《The Land of Flames》


 A New World Part 1

    Why did I do this to myself? Was the Question that went through my head as my stomach dropped with the sudden descent, a feeling I never quite got used to despite the number of times I¡¯d been on one of these shuttles. The reinforced hull around me creaked under the pressure, but I wasn¡¯t sure if it was the ship or just my nerves making it seem worse.


    I gripped the armrest as tightly as possible, trying to push away the nagging thought that one day, one of these rides might be my last. Space travel is always a gamble, and I¡¯m not the luckiest guy out there.


    I''ve heard that many people like this part of the space travel the most. The rapid plummet toward the ground, the flames licking the ship¡¯s exterior as it fights to keep itself together. Me? I find it nauseating.


    It was totally a foreign concept to me how people found this fun but I suppose the bloody adrenaline junkies wanted to reach a new high.


    The idea that I¡¯m thousands of feet above a planet with nothing but some metal and a prayer between me and certain death doesn¡¯t sit well. Of course a it thousands of times better then floating in the void of space waiting for some Deus ex machina to happen.


    We continued to plumet at extreme speeds and I could feel the heat rising even through the insulated walls. I cursed under my breath, wishing I¡¯d thought to reinforce the rune on my clothes before this trip. This dam thing was supposed to keep me cold but seriously it barely gave a cold breeze.


    I seriously had to question why I had to take this job? I already knew the god damn answer and it made me even more annoyed at myself for it.


    The only good thing that came out of this was that I wasn''t the only one. Glancing around the shuttle¡¯s cabin. The other passengers were just as miserable as I was, their faces slick with sweat, their eyes dull with resignation.


    The seat itself was small that it had barely any room for myself. I sighed, resigned to the fact that comfort was a luxury I wouldn¡¯t be enjoying any time soon.


    Space travel used to be the stuff of dreams¡ªvisions of sleek ships gliding through the cosmos, carrying explorers to new frontiers, new worlds. But the reality was far less glamorous.


    The big ships belonged to the rich and the poor or average couldn''t afford it if course I couldn''t complain since my upbringing was probably better then most. But it didn''t mean I couldn''t complain.


    The shuttle I was on was old, a relic from a time when people still cared about aesthetics and comfort, but now it was just a hunk of metal barely held together by hope and duct tape. I¡¯d heard stories of ships like this falling apart mid-flight, their passengers sucked out into the void, but I tried not to dwell on that. It wasn¡¯t like I had many other options. Besides, if it came down to it, I¡¯d rather die quickly in a crash than slowly in the scorching heat of Muspell.


    My stomach did another summersault as we broke the into the atmosphere as the ship tried to adapt to the gravity of the planet which was already harder for most people.


    I wondered if CC was feeling any of this¡ªif he was sweating somewhere on this godforsaken planet, knowing that someone was coming after him. Probably not. He was probably enjoying a nice, cool drink in some shady bar, laughing at the poor suckers like me who were chasing him down.


    The shuttle landed with a jarring thud that rattled my teeth. The pilot¡¯s voice crackled over the intercom, but I wasn¡¯t really listening. Something about safety protocols, or maybe a half-hearted apology for the rough ride. Whatever it was, it didn¡¯t matter. We were here, and that was the only thing that mattered. I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been holding, trying to calm the hammering in my chest.


    When the shuttle doors finally opened, a wave of blistering heat surged inside, hitting me like a punch to the gut. I squinted against the brightness of Muspell¡¯s twin suns, each one burning down with a ferocity that made me feel like an ant under a magnifying glass.


    As I stepped out of the shuttle, the heat seemed to wrap around me, sinking into my skin and making me feel like I was standing in the middle of an oven. I adjusted my hat, a wide-brimmed thing I¡¯d picked up at a market on Earth. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was better than nothing.


    The spaceport was a dusty, chaotic affair, filled with a mix of traders, travelers, and more than a few shady characters. The kind of place where you keep your head down and your belongings close, just in case someone decides to relieve you of them.


    Of course since Muspell was one of the farthest planets from the I.G.A they weren''t as prominent on it so very few ships arrived here.


    I weaved through the crowd as fast as possible since the noise, smell and everything else was so overwhelming that I thought i woulf faint it I stayed a minute longer. I wasn¡¯t here to make friends or cause trouble; I just needed to get to my apartment, regroup, and figure out my next move.


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    I was so focused on navigating the crowd that I didn¡¯t see the person in front of me until I collided with them. We bumped shoulders hard enough to jolt me, but I managed to stay on my feet. ¡°Sorry,¡± I muttered out of instinct, not even looking up to see who I¡¯d run into. It didn¡¯t matter, really. I just wanted to keep moving, to get out of the heat and the noise as quickly as possible.


    Whoever it was didn''t respond and walked away. It did annoy me since that was common courtesy to atleast acknowledge the person of you did something wrong but I took a breath and moved on.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity of pushing through the throng of people, I reached the city¡¯s housing district. The noise of the spaceport began to fade behind me, replaced by the quieter hum of the city. The buildings here were different¡ªless industrial, more residential. They were constructed from a mix of metal and a strange, glassy material that seemed to absorb the heat and radiate it back in soft waves.


    It made everything look a little blurry, like the whole city was shimmering in the heat. I could see large, cylindrical devices spaced along the streets, humming quietly as they pumped cool air into the surrounding area.


    From what I read up on Muspell these cooling units were a lifeline in a place like Muspell, though they only offered temporary relief from the relentless heat.


    The housing district was quieter, the crowd thinning as I ventured deeper into the city. Here, the streets were narrower, lined with small shops and cafes, their windows fogged with condensation from the cooling units inside. I could see people sitting inside, sipping drinks and trying to escape the heat, but I had no interest in joining them. I just wanted to find my apartment and collapse onto a bed.


    It was a bloody 20 hour trip from earth to here like seriously I hadn''t gotten a lick of sleep in a day or so.


    The building I was staying in wasn¡¯t anything special¡ªthree stories tall, with a dull metallic exterior that blended in with the rest of the city. It looked like it had seen better days, but it would do. I wasn¡¯t here for luxury; I just needed a place to crash while I tracked down CC. I walked up to the main door and pressed the bell, letting the landlord know I was here.


    After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open to reveal a small creature with beady eyes and twitching antennae. A Roxian, I remembered. The landlord was a Roxian. They were a long-lived species, well-suited to environments like this one. I¡¯d heard they thrived in extreme conditions.


    The Roxian eyed me with a mix of suspicion and indifference, its beady eyes narrowing as it looked me over. It was barely half my height, with a wiry frame and skin that shimmered slightly in the faint light. Its antennae twitched as it glanced at my dusty clothes and the wide-brimmed hat I was clutching.


    ¡°You the tenant for the month?¡± the Roxian rasped, its voice sounding like sandpaper on metal. It didn¡¯t wait for an answer, its gaze already shifting to the identification card I was pulling from my pocket.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me. Saturn Crowley,¡± I said, handing over the card. The Roxian snatched it with a speed that caught me off guard, scrutinizing the details before handing it back with a curt nod.


    ¡°Third floor, last door on the right,¡± the landlord instructed, its voice as dry as the heat outside. It gestured toward a narrow staircase that wound its way up the side of the building. ¡°No visitors after dark, and keep the noise down. The walls aren¡¯t as thick as they look.¡±


    I nodded, taking the key the Roxian offered with a clawed hand. There was no point in making small talk¡ªthe creature clearly wasn¡¯t interested. With a final glance around the dimly lit lobby, I headed toward the stairs, each step creaking under my weight as I climbed.


    The third floor was similar to the other two that it was basically impossible to determine which floor you were on unless you were on the stairs.


    The air inside was slightly cooler, but the heat still clung to me like a second skin. I found my room at the end of the corridor, the door marked with a faded number that barely stood out against the dull metal. Sliding the key into the lock, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.


    The apartment was about as exciting as I expected: small, functional, and utterly devoid of character. A single bed was tucked into one corner, the sheets a plain, nondescript grey. A kitchenette with a few basic appliances occupied the opposite wall, and a tiny window offered a view of the neighboring buildings.


    The dome¡¯s shimmering haze made it hard to see much beyond the immediate surroundings, which was probably for the best. The place had a feel like it had been around for decades, with no one caring much about aesthetics.


    I dropped my bag onto the bed and let out a long breath, trying to shake off the tension that had been building up since the shuttle ride. The walls were thin, like the Roxian had warned, and I could hear the faint sounds of Person from the next room. It was a bit annoying that I was able to hear them walking but it didn''t really matter.


    Laying on the floor I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. The journey had been long, and the heat had sapped whatever energy I had left.


    But there was no time to rest. I needed to get my bearings, figure out where CC might be hiding, and come up with a plan to catch him. I¡¯d dealt with scumbags like him before, and while I wasn¡¯t the most confident bounty hunter, I knew enough to be careful.


    Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a small datapad and powered it on. The screen flickered to life, and I began scrolling through the files I had on CC. His image appeared on the screen¡ªa man of medium height and curly crown hair with sky blue eyes. He had some markings on his hands and arms but other then that nothing was off about him.


    He looked like the kind of guy who enjoyed causing trouble, and from what I¡¯d heard, he was good at it. Human trafficking, drug smuggling, extortion¡ªCC had his hands in all of it. And now he was here, on Muspell, hiding out like the rat he was. The bounty on his head was substantial, enough to make this trip worth the risk, but that didn¡¯t make the prospect of facing him any less daunting.


    I stared at the image for a moment, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. This was my job, and I had a reputation to uphold, even if it wasn¡¯t exactly a stellar one. Sure, I might not be the best, but I wasn¡¯t the worst, either. I was just¡­ average. And that was okay. Most days.


    Yet something about Always made my stomach churn but was never able to figure it out why. Why did it make me feel bitter?


    After a while, I set the datapad aside and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The sounds of the city were muted, distant, as if the oppressive heat had sapped the energy from everything around me. The bed creaked under my weight, but it was surprisingly comfortable, or maybe I was just too tired to care.


    Closing my eyes my thoughts drifted my younger siblings they would probably be starting high school right about now. It really was amazing that time would go away so quickly but huh they would probably have ruff years ahead of them.


    Maybe it was just the stress of the trip, or maybe it was the fact that I¡¯d spent so long worrying about this job that my brain was latching onto anything but for a brief moment my mind went into the cliche about being a character of my favourite book which made me embarrassed and emotional again.


    This was a sort of problrm with me I was a bit of a emotional person that would probably fall easily.


    I sighed and rolled onto my side, willing myself to relax. The last thing I needed was to start second-guessing everything. I¡¯d figure it out. I always did, eventually. And if I didn¡¯t¡­ well, that was just part of the job. Not every hunt ended in success, but I had to believe that this one would. If only because I couldn¡¯t afford for it not to.


    As my thoughts began to blur and drift, the last thing that crossed my mind was a line from an old Earth novel I¡¯d read as a kid. Something about how sleep was the brother of death, but less final. I couldn¡¯t remember who had said it or why, but it seemed fitting, in a strange way. The idea of drifting off into the unknown, of surrendering to something beyond your control, was both comforting and terrifying. But right now, comfort won out, and before I knew it, I was sinking into the darkness, my mind finally at rest, if only for a little while.

 New World Part 2

    The applause echoed through the grand hall, a sound so thunderous it almost shook the marble beneath my feet. I stood there, staring out at the crowd. Hundreds of faces were beaming, nodding in approval, their hands coming together in a symphony of congratulations. In my hand was the diploma, the culmination of everything I worked for at the Academy. I was smiling¡ªno, grinning¡ªlike an idiot.


    I could hear the headmaster''s voice announcing my name, praising my achievements. "Mr. Crowley, you''ve proven yourself among the finest." Me? The finest? I could barely pass half the exams. But there it was, an official statement, a validation of all those sleepless nights, all the mistakes, the near-failures. They were clapping for me.


    The applause swelled. I felt a strange warmth in my chest, a glow that I hadn¡¯t felt in a long time. This was it. This was¡ª


    *Knock, knock, knock.*


    I blinked. The applause faded, the hall melting away into shadows. The diploma turned to smoke in my hand. I was in my apartment on Muspell, not at the Academy. I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and someone was knocking at the door. The warmth from the dream evaporated, replaced by the familiar heaviness in my chest.


    "Damn it," I muttered, rubbing my face. "Why do I keep dreaming about that?"


    I shoved the covers off, the cold reality of the room sinking into my bones. My mood sank with it, weighed down by the reminder of what could¡¯ve been. What should¡¯ve been. But that was years ago. That ceremony? It never happened. I barely flunked, and they didn¡¯t clap for that.


    The knocking started again, more insistent this time. I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. "Alright, alright, I¡¯m coming." But the feeling from the dream stuck with me, like an itch I couldn¡¯t scratch.


    I shuffled to the door, my mind still lingering on the fading dream. What would it have felt like, to stand there in that hall, to be acknowledged? But those thoughts dissolved as soon as I turned the handle and pulled the door open.


    Standing there, crouched slightly to fit under the doorway, was a Formorian. The person was about four meters tall, with two vertical, slit-like eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light. His dark red skin seemed to drink in the shadows of the room, making him look like he had been carved out of molten rock that had cooled too quickly. He wore a sleeveless vest that showed off massive, bulging muscles, and a pair of brown trousers that were slightly too short for his long legs.


    "Hey, new neighbor!" His voice was a deep rumble, like rocks grinding together, but his tone was surprisingly friendly. "Just wanted to drop by, say hi, y''know? Name¡¯s Orvox. Figured we should get acquainted since we''re livin'' so close an'' all."


    I blinked, trying to keep my jaw from dropping. Orvox? The Formorian with the deep voice and casual smile? I¡¯d read about Formorians¡ªusually in the context of ¡®Things You Don¡¯t Want to Run Into in a Dark Alley¡¯¡ªbut this was a new one. He leaned against the doorframe, as if this was the most natural thing in the world, grinning down at me like we were old friends.


    "Uh, hi," I managed, fighting the urge to step back. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Saturn.¡±


    ¡°Saturn, huh? Cool name, man. Nice to meet ya!" He extended a massive hand that I hesitated to shake. His palm alone could probably crush mine if he wasn¡¯t careful. "I saw you movin'' in and thought, ''Hey, why not drop by? Make the guy feel welcome.'' So, here I am!"


    The way he spoke¡ªso informal, so relaxed¡ªwas jarring. I wasn¡¯t used to it. Where I grew up, people didn''t talk like that, especially not to strangers. Politeness, formality, those were ingrained in me. But Orvox¡­ he didn¡¯t seem to care about any of that. He just smiled, waiting for me to say something.


    "Uh, thanks," I said, shaking his hand cautiously. His grip was firm, but not crushing. ¡°I appreciate the, uh, welcome.¡±


    ¡°No problem, buddy!" He let go of my hand and clapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, if you ever need somethin'', don¡¯t be a stranger. I¡¯m just a few doors down. We Formorians, we stick together, y''know?¡±


    I nodded, though I didn¡¯t really know. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±


    "Great! Well, I won¡¯t keep ya. Just thought I''d be neighborly. You take care, Saturn!" With that, Orvox gave me a thumbs-up, then turned and ducked back down the hallway, his enormous frame somehow moving with surprising grace.


    I stood there for a moment, watching him go, trying to process what had just happened. A Formorian¡­ being friendly. Welcoming me to the neighborhood. What kind of place had I moved into?


    Shaking my head, I closed the door and leaned against it.


    ¡°Welcome to Muspell,¡± I muttered to myself, rubbing my face again. ¡°Now to find something to eat. I haven''t eaten in a good while."


    I took my toothbrush and paste to the bathroom and cleaned myself. It was something of a habit now since no matter where I was I tried to keep my cleanliness up to standard although I wasn''t really someone obsessed with it but it was just a habit.


    Tossing the brush back into the cup, I splashed some water onto my face to force the tiredness away and took a moment to stare at myself in the mirror.


    I wasn''t really someone who stood out that much. It was like looking at a photo of yourself rather than reflection due to how unmoving my face was.


    But there was no time to dwell on that. My stomach growled, reminding me that it had been too long since my last meal. I shuffled back to the main room, glancing through my suitcase I checked how much I had.


    "Hmmm, about 20,000 credits. Good enough." I muttered to myself although not a huge amount this was still enough to buy meals for a whole month and I had already trained myself to be ready for that.


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    Grabbing my jacket, I decided to head out and see what Muspell had to offer in terms of food. The streets outside were just as sweltering as they were yesterday, the heat of the planet pressing down like a thick blanket. The twin suns-or whatever Muspell called a sun¡ªwas a relentless ball of fire in the sky, baking everything in sight.


    Walking around the streets were crowded. Which didn''t surprise me since this was the capital of Muspell, Logi, which would have about 3.6 million people or atleast offical citizens.


    Traders hawking their wares, miners on their way to the shifts, and a few off-worlders like me trying to navigate the chaos.


    My stomach growled again, louder this time, demanding attention. I turned down an alley that led to a row of food stalls I¡¯d passed earlier. The smell of sizzling meat and spices hit me, making my mouth water. Muspell cuisine was rough, hearty, and spicy enough to make your eyes water, but right now, that sounded perfect.


    I approached a stall run by a short, stocky alien with four arms who was expertly grilling skewers of meat. The heat didn¡¯t seem to bother him as he worked over the flames, flipping skewers with two hands while tossing spices with the other two. His small eyes glanced up at me as I approached.


    ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡± he asked in a gruff voice.


    "Good morning, I will have some," I began to order my food while taking a quick glance to remember everything on the menu. "Two grilled Chips."


    He grunted, grabbed a couple of skewers from the grill, and handed them to me. ¡°Eight credits.¡±


    I fished around in my pocket and handed over the money. The alien didn¡¯t say anything else, just nodded and went back to his grilling. I stepped aside, sinking my teeth into the first skewer. The meat was spicy, tender, and had a kick that burned all the way down. But it was good. It was real. The kind of thing that grounded you in the moment, no matter what was going on in your head.


    As I ate, I found a quiet corner to lean against the wall, watching the crowd move past. Since this was a hotspot of people right now I could gather information from gossiping that would happen and I wouldn''t have to walk around this wretched city.


    I slowly allowed mana to enhance my hearing, chewing on the last bit of skewer as the noise of the market flowed around me. The conversations blended together into a low hum, but I started picking out distinct voices.


    ¡°Prices are ridiculous this year,¡± grumbled a merchant a few stalls over. ¡°I had to pay double for my ingredients! You think people are gonna shell out for festival food at these rates? It''s a joke!¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± another replied. ¡°I¡¯m barely breaking even on the supplies for my stand. And now they want us to chip in for the lighting setup? Where¡¯s that money even going?¡±


    A couple of miners were passing by, their voices rough from the day¡¯s work.


    ¡°Can¡¯t believe they cut our shift pay again. That¡¯s the third time this month.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and for what? So they can fund more security? Just means more patrols breathing down our necks while we¡¯re trying to do our jobs. No one¡¯s smuggling anything worth the trouble now.¡±


    Nearby, a group of kids chattered excitedly as they skipped through the crowd.


    ¡°Did you hear? They¡¯re gonna have a big holo-show at the festival this year!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and dancers from off-world too! I wanna see the fire-breathers. My dad says they¡¯re the best.¡±


    ¡°Whatever. I just wanna eat all the fried stuff.¡±


    As they darted off, I overheard a couple of traders arguing over a deal.


    ¡°You¡¯re out of your mind if you think I¡¯m paying that. I¡¯ll just find another route.¡±


    ¡°Good luck with that, friend. Heard the local patrols have been stepping up checks lately. You want your goods to make it through, you¡¯ll need my connections.¡±


    There was a low chuckle. ¡°Connections like yours? You¡¯d better hope those checks don¡¯t tighten further. Might be harder to grease the right palms.¡±


    In the distance, someone was talking about the festival preparations.


    ¡°Think they¡¯ll finish the decorations in time? Last year was a mess¡ªhalf the lights didn¡¯t even work.¡±


    ¡°Not my problem, but they¡¯d be better. I¡¯m counting on the crowds to make up for these crap sales.¡±


    There wasn''t anything important it seemed but it allowed me to find something useful. From what I had found about CC was that he had arrived recently but couldn''t figure out a reason but it must be connected to the Festival somewhat.


    After finishing my skewers, licking the last bit of spice off my fingers, and let my thoughts drift back to CC. From what I¡¯d managed to piece together, it was pretty basic stuff like seriously I could probably guess at what he wanted.


    CC¡ªor Cedric Cale, as he used to be known¡ªcame from an above-average family. His father was a mid-level bureaucrat, nothing flashy but solid. The kind of job that kept food on the table and credits in the account, but never enough to stand out. His mother was a stay-at-home type, although she was known for organizing school events, the type of woman who probably made friends with all the neighbors.


    Cedric followed the path laid out for him. Good grades, decent at sports, popular enough to blend in but not enough to draw attention. I remember hearing that he was always the guy with potential. Not the best, not the brightest, but solid. Reliable. He went to a decent academy, studied commerce or something equally boring, and by all accounts, he was heading towards a nice, steady career.


    He got married and had a daughter for a while it was an average family but after that everything was hidden or obscured so I didn''t find anything else.


    My mind circled back to that mystery like a fly that wouldn¡¯t leave me alone. What had happened to Cedric to turn him into CC? People didn¡¯t just flip like that for no reason. It wasn¡¯t like some switch got turned off and suddenly he was in the trafficking business, dealing in whatever illegal crap he was peddling now.


    I finished my last skewer, tossing the stick into a nearby bin. The smell of charred spices lingered, mixing with the humid air, but I was already too deep in thought to notice.


    It was fucking hard to figure out why he would even come here or become a trafficer. Like that man was to old to become a Magician so he couldn''t be trying to do something like but maybe he joined a Cult?


    Ah, but those would be just baseless guessing since I had no solid lead right now.


    I sighed, pushing off the wall and shoving my hands into my pockets. It didn¡¯t matter why CC had changed or what his motivations were¡ªnot really. My job wasn¡¯t to understand him, it was to catch him. Still, I couldn¡¯t help but feel that understanding might give me an edge. It wasn¡¯t like I had much else to go on.


    The crowd shifted around me, alive with the buzz of a city on the move. Muspell was nothing like what I was used to. The heat, the noise, the constant flow of people¡ªit was overwhelming. I was already gaining too much information from this.


    As I turned a corner, lost in thought, something¡ªor rather, someone¡ªbarreled into me with the force of a freight train.


    I hit the ground hard, the impact rattling me down to the bones. My breath left in a sharp gasp as I blinked to see the evening sky, confused at what had happened.


    A shuffling sound came from right next to me making me turn my head to see a person who was getting up on his feet in a rather quick jump.


    The guy was dressed like your average thug¡ªragged clothes, dirty boots, a crude knife strapped to his belt. He didn''t look like a Formorian as he lacked the height but still his skin gave away that he was probably a hybrid.


    Slowly I pushed myself to stand up while dusting the dirt of my clothes. The impact still hurt a bit since I wasn''t used to getting hit quite often.


    Looking at the way the thug ran towards it seemed that there was a slight fight going on. The sounds of fists connecting, grunts of pain, and a few choice curses echoed down the narrow path. Normally, I''d keep walking. I wasn¡¯t interested in getting involved in whatever street brawl was going on in this part of town.


    But just as I turned to leave, I caught a snippet of conversation over the noise.


    "You think your tuff? Nobody crosses Ciel and lives."


    The sentence made me pause for a moment. My mind raced even if this person wasn''t CC he may work for him, with him or at least knew about him. So maybe getting involved would be better?


    I moved toward the sounds of the scuffle, slipping through the narrow alley, careful not to draw attention. As I got closer, the scene became clearer. The thug I''d bumped into had joined a small group of his buddies, circling around a figure. It was¡ªOrvox, the Formorian I had just met. But he looked different now. Instead of his casual sleeveless vest, he was wearing a long, dark robe, almost like a priest¡¯s garment, though the markings on it were unfamiliar to me


    Orvox laughed, his deep voice echoing through the alley. "Come on, boys! You really wanna do this? Just walk away now"


    The thugs exchanged uneasy glances, clearly not expecting their prey to be this formidable. But one of them, probably the leader, spat on the ground and brandished a jagged knife. "You don''t scare us priests, move aside."


    I crouched slightly, placing my hands on the rough ground of the alley. Beneath the surface, I could feel the familiar texture of compacted earth and bits of discarded concrete. My fingers twitched as I focused, mentally pulling apart the molecular bonds in the earth, turning solid ground into something else entirely.


    "Slipstream transmutation," I muttered under my breath. "Break down the silicates, reconfigure into a low-friction lattice."


    I sent a pulse of mana into the ground. It rippled beneath my fingertips, spreading out in a wave that stretched to where the thugs were standing. The rough surface of the ground shifted subtly, the particles within rearranging themselves into a smooth, almost glassy surface.


    The thugs didn''t notice at first, too focused on Orvox. But when the leader took a step forward, his boot slipped out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. He let out a yelp of surprise as he scrambled for balance, his knife clattering to the floor.


    ¡°What the¡ª!¡± another thug exclaimed as he, too, lost his footing. The entire group staggered, trying to stay upright, but the now frictionless ground betrayed them. They slipped and slid, arms flailing as they struggled to regain control.


    After they fell I silently watched what they would do next as each everyone flailed around like headless chicken. It was a pretty funny scene.

 A New World Part 3

    Orvox glanced down at the scrambling thugs, a slow grin spreading across his face. His vertical eyes gleamed with amusement as he stood tall, unaffected by the chaos underfoot. He casually bent down and picked up the knife that had slipped from the leader¡¯s grasp, examining it with mild curiosity before tossing it aside like a useless toy.


    I stepped out from the shadows, brushing my hands off and taking a few steps closer. Orvox¡¯s eyes flicked toward me, his grin widening as he recognized me.


    ¡°Well, well, look who¡¯s here. Saturn, right?¡± His tone was light, but there was an underlying tension in his posture, like a coiled spring waiting to snap. ¡°Fancy meeting you in a place like this.¡±


    ¡°Orvox,¡± I replied, keeping my distance as I eyed the struggling thugs. They were still trying to get their bearings, slipping and sliding in the alleyway. ¡°Looked like you could use a hand.¡±


    ¡°Ah, these clowns?¡± He waved a massive hand dismissively. ¡°Just a bit of local trouble. Nothing I can¡¯t handle.¡± His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. ¡°But I appreciate the assist, neighbor.¡±


    There was a moment of silence but after a few seconds I talked. "So, if you don''t mind I have a few questions I want to ask these gentlemen?"


    Orvox chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "Questions, huh? Be my guest. They¡¯re not much for conversation, though. You¡¯ll be lucky if they know how to count past ten."


    He stepped aside, giving me a clear path to the thugs who were now groaning and clutching at various bruises. One of them, the leader I assumed, was trying to drag himself upright, his eyes darting between Orvox and me like a trapped animal. I crouched down in front of him, keeping my tone calm.


    "Relax," I said. "I¡¯m not here to hurt you any more than you¡¯ve already been. I just need information. You talk, and you walk out of here. Simple as that."


    The leader swallowed hard, sweat dripping down his brow. "What...what do you want to know?"


    I glanced over my shoulder at Orvox, who was now leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching with casual interest. "I want to know how to talk with your boss? And if you know anyone known as CC?"


    The leader hesitated, glancing nervously at his companions. One of them muttered something under his breath, but the leader silenced him with a glare. He looked back at me, his voice low and shaky.


    "Uh, we could take you to our boss but I don''t think she would like that. And we don''t know anything about CC."


    "Open" I muttered as immediately my vision changed a bit as instead of the physical body of the thug I saw a more white outline of his body that had many different colours inside of the man.


    This was called Soul sight. It revealed the thug''s essence¡ªbright, swirling colors marking his emotions and truthfulness. Most of his body was tainted with fear, a pulsating red that clouded his form. Yet deeper within, faint traces of green, barely noticeable, suggested hesitation. Lies, maybe? Or half-truths.


    Maybe this idiot didn''t want me to meet his boss? Or he didn''t have one. The CC part for obvious this idiot didn''t know of CC so I shouldn''t waste my time but this guy was my only lead to the underworld of this world.


    I stood up slowly, letting my Soul Sight fade as the colors and shapes melted back into the normal view of the grimy alley. The leader¡¯s eyes followed my movements nervously, but I could tell he was trying to mask his fear with bravado.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think your boss would like that, huh?¡± I echoed his words as I paced in a slow circle around him. ¡°That tells me something interesting. Either your boss is not as in control as they want people to think, or you¡¯re not as loyal as you should be.¡±


    The thug shifted uncomfortably, his hands clenching into fists. He glanced at his companions, but none of them met his gaze. It was clear they were just as scared as he was.


    ¡°Look,¡± he started, his voice hoarse, ¡°it¡¯s not like that. We¡¯re just small-time, alright? Our boss¡ªshe.... She won''t have Information about what you want. And CC? I swear I don¡¯t know anything about that.¡±


    I paused, considering his words. My gut told me he was telling some form of truth. Small-time operations rarely had access to the real players in the underworld, but they were still useful. Foot soldiers always had scraps of information, and scraps could be pieced together.


    Orvox let out a low chuckle, interrupting my thoughts. ¡°They won''t tell you anything about their boss. So give up man."


    I shot Orvox a look but didn¡¯t respond. Instead, I crouched down again, meeting the leader¡¯s eyes with a piercing stare. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal. You take me to your boss. Or, I leave you here with the priest and he will probably send you to jail or something."


    The thug¡¯s face paled. He looked at Orvox, then back at me, and I could see the gears turning in his head. He was weighing his options, and neither of them looked good. Finally, he let out a shaky breath.


    "Okay," he muttered with every bit of courage he had. "I will take you to our boss. But she won''t be happy."


    Jumping to my feet I immediately let go of my spell and smiled. "Thank you my good friend."


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The thugs slowly stood up in a manor that they still didn''t believe that the ground was solid once more and would hold them this time.


    "Lead the way," I said to the thug. His shoulders slumped, and with a resigned sigh, he motioned for us to follow. The other thugs were still too shaken to do anything but watch as we made our way out of the alley.


    The thug walked a few paces ahead, his steps heavy with reluctance, but he was leading us¡ªhe hadn¡¯t tried to run, which was a good sign. Orvox walked beside me, his hands casually resting in his coat pockets, though I could feel the energy in him, like a storm waiting to break.


    It was still hard to get used to a person that long and with this much mass but then again Formorians were the main race of musspell.


    I was still curious if this man knew that I was a magician? Since if he was like the priest I knew then this man wasn''t normal and would have easily figured out about me. But at the moment I had no proof.


    Even at night the planet was considerably hotter then what I was used.


    The walk itself was quiet with some glances being thrown at our direction from the passerby. I made sure to keep my head down as I was too embarrassed at attracting such attention towards me.


    Walking through the streets I kept my eyes on the thug ahead, his body language betraying his discomfort. He wasn¡¯t leading us to the center of operations¡ªthat much was obvious. This was likely just an outpost, a place where the small-time players gathered to avoid the larger, more dangerous parts of the underworld.


    Orvox, still towering beside me, seemed at ease. His vertical eyes scanned the surroundings with an almost lazy curiosity, but I figured that he was ready at all times since while he was bigger than most humans his posture betrayed that he was trained in combat at least since his walking betrayed it.


    The thug led us to a narrow door hidden between two derelict buildings. He hesitated before knocking twice, then paused, knocking three more times in a specific rhythm. The door creaked open, and a pair of suspicious eyes peeked out from the shadows before the door swung open fully.


    ¡°Inside,¡± the thug muttered, stepping aside to let us through. I glanced at Orvox, who shrugged and ducked through the doorway, his massive frame barely fitting through the entrance. I followed, my senses on high alert.


    The room we entered was dimly lit, a small, claustrophobic space filled with mismatched furniture and the stench of stale smoke.


    I immediately used my sight to confirm that none of these people were Magicians. My hunch was correct although a few did seem to have sickness in their lungs or liver.


    One of them was a woman who had a gruesome scar that marred her face, stood up, crossing her arms over her chest.


    "And who is this you bought here Rai?" she said,Her voice is low and dangerous. ¡°an escort?"


    Rai, the thug who had led us here, shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to explain. ¡°They¡­ uh, they wanted to talk to the boss.¡±


    Her eyes flickered to me, then to Orvox, before she let out a snort. "You bought a priest here Rai, do you have any idea what you''re doing?"


    I stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension. ¡°We¡¯re not here to cause trouble. I just need to speak with your boss. It¡¯s important. and I ain''t with him." I continued with pointing to Orvox.


    The woman studied me for a moment before nodding toward a door at the back of the room. ¡°Boss is in there. But don¡¯t expect a warm welcome. but that guy stays here."


    I nodded showing that I accepted the terms and conditions. I didn''t really care if Orvox was allowed in or not.


    The woman with the scar narrowed her eyes at me but said nothing more as I walked toward the door at the back.


    Pushing it open, I stepped inside. The room was even darker, lit only by a single dim lamp on a cluttered desk. Behind the desk sat was a humanoid owl like being, it''s features being hard to see in the dim light. Feathers covered its form, sleek and dark, giving it an aura of eerie grace. Its beak clicked softly as it regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.


    "So," the owl-like being said in a voice that was surprisingly smooth, almost melodic, "you¡¯re the one causing all this fuss."


    Those words confused me, since I hadn''t been on this planet long enough to cause trouble and this was the first time I was interacting with someone.


    "Sorry but I haven''t really done anything I haven''t even been on this planet for a day." I spoke in a respectful tone not wanting to offend someone who was my only lead.


    The creature tilted its head to one side, an oddly birdlike gesture that sent a shiver down my spine. "Hmm, your a bounty hunter? Interesting and what is that you want from me? You must have something specific in mind to come all this way and trouble my people."


    "I need information," I said simply. "I am only here to find if people have gone missing recently in high amounts or if you have seen this person."


    I immediately pulled out my data pad and showed the picture of CC.


    The owl-like creature''s eyes narrowed as it studied the image on my data pad. It leaned back slightly, feathers rustling as it considered my words. "Interesting," it murmured, voice still smooth and melodic. "I haven''t seen this man personally. However, there are whispers, that I might have heard."


    My pulse quickened at the possibility of a lead, but I kept my expression neutral. "And what would it take for you to share that information?"


    The owl tilted its head again, its beak clicking softly. "Ah, straight to the point, are we? Good. I appreciate that in a visitor. You see I am a being that likes to collect items of value, I deal in favors, and I expect something in return for my... assistance."


    My expression didn''t change I was already expecting something like this but there was a limit to what I would do. "I see but sorry I don''t go around killing for fun."


    "Ah, but you haven''t even heard of my offer yet. There''s a certain item in the possession of a rival gang¡ªan artifact, to be precise. They call it the "Silver tear". It¡¯s said to have magical properties, though I doubt they understand its true value. I want it. Bring it to me, and I¡¯ll tell you everything I know about CC."


    "Silver Tear, huh?" I mused, filing the name away in my mind. "Where can I find this gang? And how long?"


    The owl smiled, if such a thing was possible for a beaked creature. "Not far from here. The gang operates on the outskirts of Logi near the south end. And I give you a week since you see the festival is around the corner and I am a busy man."


    I nodded slowly, already formulating a plan in my mind. "Consider it done. I''ll get you the Silver Tear."


    The owl made a soft, approving noise, leaning back into the shadows. "Good. I''ll be waiting. And when you return with the artifact, we''ll see just how much you''re willing to pay for the information you seek."


    I looked at the owl and asked. "And what should I call you?"


    The owl like being looked at me with an almost expression less face. "Zeed."


    This job was going to be dangerous, but I had no choice. If I was going to find CC and put an end to whatever he was involved in, I needed that information. Then again for someone like me it wouldn''t be hard to get in and out of a simple building.


    As I stepped back into the main room, I saw Orvox still standing there, his arms crossed as he watched the thugs warily. The woman with the scar narrowed her eyes at me but said nothing.


    Without a word I left and Orvox followed behind me I was still on edge about him since I barely knew the guy.


    Walking a good amount of distance from the location and near to our apartment I suddenly stopped and gave him a bow.


    "Then this is our goodbye I go my way and you go yours."


    As I straightened up from my bow, Orvox¡¯s vertical eyes bore into mine with an unreadable expression. He let out a short chuckle, the kind that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes.


    "Good night," he said with a low rumble. "May the flames bless you."


    With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the night, his massive form melting into the shadows of the narrow streets. I watched him go, a strange mix of relief and unease settling in my chest. Something told me this wouldn¡¯t be the last time our paths crossed.


    I exhaled slowly and began walking again, my steps echoing off the cracked pavement. The streets were quieter now, the city¡¯s noise fading into the background as I approached the apartment building where I was staying.


    I walked through the apartment silently making my way to the third floor. As I passed by the half-open door of my landlord¡¯s apartment-it peaked out with twitching antennae and shiny black eyes. It stared at me for a moment, its mandibles clicking softly, but it said nothing. I hurried past, feeling a shiver run down my spine.


    As I reached my door, I could still feel his eyes on me. I fumbled with the keys for a moment, eager to get inside. Finally, the lock clicked, and I slipped into the apartment, closing the door behind me with a sigh of relief.


    The small space was exactly how I¡¯d left it¡ªbare, functional, and impersonal. The bed was neatly made, the small kitchen untouched. I tossed my coat onto the back of a chair and made my way to the window, pulling back the thin curtain to peer outside. The city stretched out below me, a maze of lights and shadows. Somewhere out there was CC, and I was getting closer. But first, I had a job to do¡ªa dangerous one that could easily go south if I wasn¡¯t careful.


    I closed the curtain and sank down onto the bed, exhaustion finally catching up to me. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and I¡¯d need every bit of rest I could get. But for now, I allowed myself a moment of peace, closing my eyes and letting the weight of the day fade away.

 Chapter 2 The Hunt begins 1

    The next few days were dull. Yes dull was the only word that I could say to describe them. Since I had a week to get this mob boss the item all I had to do was go through to find more about it.


    I had to at least go around collecting information about this "Silver tear" thing before I did the shitty heist. The first was mostly spent inside the apartment from mostly digging through the mail, internet to gather information.


    Artifacts themselves were particularly common so it shouldn''t have been hard to find information on something like this but the damn internet was so shit that it took goddamn 5 minutes to load something that shouldn''t have taken even a second.


    But that wasn''t the only shitty thing about the next was that I found about 30 different items named silver tear that had a connection to Musspell at least and hundreds more that were known at least.


    It would take me about a whole day to go through all of these articles or so called information about this item.


    Like I was seriously stupid I really didn''t ask much about this Silver tear from that owl that I could even conduct the heist.


    I seriously wished at times like these to be able to turn back time so I would be able fix stuff like this but it wasn''t meant to be.


    Taking a deep breath I focused on what I could do to correct the mistake I had made. I couldn''t contact them since I didn''t know their contacts or something and I couldn''t be sure that they wouldn''t have moved their base by now or even would be there.


    "Should I use a familiar?" I questioned myself. It was a valid question since a familiar would probably be better and would get to the location faster and could ask about the general look and ability of the artifact from Mr. Zeed.


    Of course it might make my location obvious. Ahhhhhh, why couldn''t magic be more convenient like seriously one spell could ruin everything.


    The decision weighed heavily on me. Sending a familiar was risky, but so was going in blind. I had to make a choice soon, or else I''d be stuck here sorting through this mountain of useless information for days. Every hour wasted was one step closer to Zeed sending his goons after me if I didn¡¯t deliver.


    "Alright," I muttered to myself standing up from the table I had been sitting on. "Let''s consider the pros and cons."


    Sending the familiar meant potentially tipping off Zeed or worse, one of his enemies. But it also meant getting the details I desperately needed. I couldn¡¯t exactly do this job without knowing what the Silver Tear looked like or what it could do. Knowing Zeed, he wouldn¡¯t be forgiving if I brought him the wrong artifact. That would likely mean a bullet in the head ¡ª or something worse, knowing the circles he ran in.


    On the other hand, I could just brute force this research. Keep grinding through these articles until something useful showed up. But that was dangerous too. Time was running out, and the longer I spent here, the more likely it was that I¡¯d miss my chance to pull off the heist smoothly. Or worse, someone else might beat me to it.


    I stared at the cluttered table where I¡¯d spread out my notes and opened tabs. The flickering laptop screen taunted me with its agonizingly slow progress. I slammed it shut in frustration.


    "Screw this."


    I immediately unbuckled my cuff and pulled it down to show the intricate tattoo-like design in my forearm.


    For some reason this brought a smile to my face since it brought nostalgia. I could still remember mom screaming at me for getting a tattoo since my family wasn''t big on getting tattoos and for that reason didn''t like it to allow getting familiar.


    "Der Geist, der durch die Unterwelt wandert, das Gesch?pf, mit dem man sich anfreunden kann, ich nenne dich Amon, meinen ewig gebundenen Diener."


    A chilling filled the room as soon as I uttered the last syllable. Shadows danced and twisted in the corners, converging to form a dark mass that slowly took shape. Emerging from the gloom, a creature that could only be described as part dog, padded forward, its eyes gleaming with a sharp intelligence.


    Amon. My familiar.


    "You called?" Amon spoke in a quiet whisper that would have been impossible to hear yet I heard it clearly.


    I took a deep breath. ¡°I need your help,¡± I said, the words feeling heavier than they should. ¡°I need to locate someone. Mr. Zeed. He¡¯s got information about an artifact called the Silver Tear. Can you find him and ask him for details? Just tell him I sent you."


    Amon tilted his head clearly annoyed by my request. "Tch, fine I will help but you should know the price?"


    "Yeah, one medium rare steak."


    Amon gave a small chuckle that made himself seem like a cute pup rather than a hellhound he should be still seeing the face just made me sad.


    "Good. Don''t forget the garlic butter this time," he spoke in jest before dissolving into the shadows.


    The room returned to its usual dim light, and the chill left with him. I rubbed my arm absentmindedly, the tattoo still faintly glowing from the summoning.


    While it would be seen as lazy to not go back myself but I just didn''t want to walk around too much and sending Amon would be less taxing.


    As I waited for my familiar, I walked to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee that I could drink and pass the time reading on the new research on the mechanics of a basic shield spell.


    The coffee was hot not preferable for drinking on such a planet but addiction wouldn''t allow me to leave it alone.


    I sipped my coffee and felt the warmth spread through me. It calmed my nerves, at least a little. I glanced at the clock. Amon would need time, but not too much. He was efficient, even when he took his sweet time about it.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    As there wasn''t much I could do except wait for Amon I decided it was better to busy myself otherwise I would be too stressed. That was when I saw the notes on a spell that I was working on peaked out from my suitcase and had a bright idea to review them.


    Magic, was interesting to say the least. I couldn''t say I was amazing at it but I was good enough to get the job done.


    The entire system was based on the idea of knowledge. Essentially, magic is the act of bringing about phenomena¡ªthat either exist naturally or can be created by drawing upon knowledge.


    One could call Magician Scientists that wanted to improve on the world around them, manipulating the very fabric of reality by understanding its underlying principles. The more one knew about something, the more powerful their magic became.


    Magic as whole could be powered by Mana or many would call Soul or Life force that everyone naturally produced.


    I could feel my mind wandering as I stared at the notes. Theories and formulas on enhancing shield spells swirled in my head, mixing with thoughts of the Silver Tear. Was it worth risking my life for some artifact? Then again, there wasn''t much choice when someone like Zeed gave you a deadline.


    I took another sip of coffee, allowing myself to relax a bit. Just as I was starting to focus again, I heard a sharp noise behind me¡ªa low growl, followed by a cold breath on the back of my neck.


    "AHHH!"


    I nearly jumped out of my skin, my heart racing. I spun around to find Amon sitting calmly on the counter, his head tilted to the side with an amused expression.


    "Did you enjoy your little break?" Amon asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.


    I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. "Do you have to do that every time?" I muttered, rubbing my chest to calm my erratic heartbeat.


    Amon only smirked, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "You should expect it by now. Keeps you on your toes."


    "Yeah, yeah. So, what did you find?"


    The amusement faded from his expression as he spoke. "I found Mr. Zeed. He wasn''t pleased, but he gave me the information. The Silver Tear is rumored to be an artifact created by Corazon."


    I froze, my mind racing. Corazon? The Corazon? The name alone sent shivers down my spine. He was one of the most famous¡ªand dangerous¡ªartifact creators in history. If the Silver Tear was truly made by him, then this wasn''t just another heist. This was something far more significant, and dangerous.


    "Corazon, huh?" I said slowly, letting the name roll off my tongue. "You sure?"


    Amon nodded, his expression serious. "That''s what Zeed believes."


    I leaned against the counter, my mind trying to process the information. Corazon''s name had been attached to dozens of artifacts over the years, but very few were ever confirmed to be his. If the Silver Tear really was one of his creations, it meant this job was far more dangerous than I''d anticipated.


    "Great," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Just what I needed. A famous artifact with a deadly backstory."


    Amon chuckled softly, his form shimmering slightly as if he could vanish at any moment. "You always do get yourself into the most interesting situations, don''t you?"


    I couldn''t help but laugh at that. He wasn''t wrong. My life had never been simple, and this heist was shaping up to be one of the more complicated ones. But at least now, I had a lead.


    "Thanks, Amon," I said, reaching for my notes again. "I owe you that steak."


    "Damn right you do," he said with a toothy grin before fading back into the shadows.


    As the room returned to its normal state, I stood there for a moment, collecting my thoughts. Corazon¡­ What had I gotten myself into?


    Maybe I needed a fresh perspective. The area where the Silver tear is located should be in the southern district about a kilometre from here.


    Picking up the coat and checking my Rune to see it was working and I still felt the slight breeze, after which I walked out into the blazing streets of Logi.


    The streets of Logi were unforgiving as ever, with air so dry it physically hurt to breath and a smell of burnt tar and flesh in the air.


    Only Formorians were out in the streets although that wasn''t too unbelievable since this was their planet they would have adapted to the heat a long time ago.


    My first order of business was to head to the Southern part of Logi since the silver tear was located there.


    From my research or more correctly listening into conversations that part belonged to the Ricmod family and at least the current most famous person from that was someone named Goda.


    A long breath escaped my lips as my head still spun from what I had now known about Corazon. This life never cut me any breaks but this was just stupid. Yet, there was nothing to bitch about. Life was life, and I''d better play the hand I''d been dealt.


    With every step closer to the Southern district, it felt heavier, as if I was walking towards my grave. I couldn''t help but feel this wasn''t going to end well. But then again, did anything ever? Life has an ironic way of showing you no matter how hard you try, you''re just another speck in the universe, bound to be forgotten.


    Eventually I reached the Southern part of Logi yet the sudden change hit me as even though Musspell wasn''t the most advanced planet in the galaxy but the southern part was a new low.


    The Southern District of Logi felt like a different world entirely. Crumbling buildings leaned into narrow alleyways, The air here was even worse, thick with the stench of decay. I pulled my collar up, trying to block out the smell, but it was useless. The scent clung to everything like a second skin.


    As I made my way through the district, I kept my eyes open for any signs of the Ricmod family. Their influence would be huge in this part at least and it didn''t take me long to find something that at least I thought would be exactly that.


    The streets were filled with people yet these ones had one major difference from the normal citizens that I had met before and it was the clothing which was more like random pieces that barely fit were just worn to protect themselves.


    The people here, ragged and weary, moved without purpose it was a familiar feeling. Something like nothing mattered and no matter what you did everything will remain as it is.


    Looking around made me feel nauseous and to avoid it I kept my head down.


    "Focus." I began to mutter like a mantra.


    I continued deeper into the district, glancing at the crumbling buildings that lined the streets. Graffiti adorned the walls, most of its symbols and markings I couldn¡¯t understand, but one symbol kept repeating¡ªa jagged crescent moon crossed by a sword. The Ricmod family¡¯s crest, no doubt.


    From what zeed had sent over the past day was that the item would be in the main building that was in the middle of the district and that it was protected by armed guards other than that nothing should be there that the items would be kept in the wall.


    As I turned a corner, I spotted a small bar tucked between two dilapidated buildings. The sign above the door was barely readable, but the neon lights flickering in the windows told me it was still open for business.


    Maybe they could point me in the right direction.


    Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The smell of stale alcohol and sweat hit me immediately, and the dim lighting did little to mask the grime that coated every surface. A few patrons sat at the bar, nursing their drinks, while a couple of others played cards at a table in the corner. They all looked up as I entered, sizing me up before quickly losing interest. Good.


    I walked up to the bar and nodded at the bartender, a burly Formorian with sharp, black eyes and grey skin. He barely glanced at me as he wiped down a glass with a dirty rag.


    ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡± he grunted without looking up


    "Information," I replied keeping my voice as monotone as possible. "Specifically about the location where I can find the center mostly building. I want to take pictures as a tourist."


    I immediately showed him my phone.


    The bartender''s eyes flickered towards the phone for a split second before narrowing. He wasn''t buying my tourist act, but that didn''t surprise me. Still, I needed to play it cool. I forced a smile, trying not to let my unease show.


    ¡°Tourist, huh?¡± he muttered, setting the glass down. He leaned in closer, the smell of cheap booze and something far worse hitting me full force. ¡°Tourists don''t usually come to this part of Logi. Especially not lookin'' for the Ricmod family.¡±


    He knew exactly what I was after. The question was, how much was he willing to share?


    Before I could say anything an arm came up behind me and stopped on my shoulder.


    "Well, I can show you where you want to go." A voice came from behind me specifically two steps from our positions I could kick him.


    The grip on my shoulder wasn¡¯t firm but sloppy, the kind that came from someone who was more drunk than dangerous. I turned slowly, ready for anything, but what I saw wasn¡¯t the threat I expected.


    The man behind me was not a Formorian, but a Bregmian¡ªone of the amphibious races that lived on the water planets. His skin was a sickly blue-green, mottled with patches of dryness, and his eyes, large and watery, struggled to focus on me. He was clearly drunk, swaying slightly as he tried to keep his balance. His clothes were soaked in a mix of alcohol and something that smelled like brine.


    "Hey¡­you lookin'' for¡­what was it?" He squinted, trying to remember his own words. "Ah, yeah, centre place. Big buildin¡¯.¡± His speech slurred badly as he hiccuped. "I can show ya¡­yeah¡­know every¡­where."


    I could hear the bartender sigh from behind me. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him,¡± the bartender growled. ¡°He¡¯s three sheets to the wind and always is. Leave my customers alone, Revek.¡±


    Revek, the Bregmian, blinked sluggishly and then turned to glare at the bartender. "Hey! I ain¡¯t¡­ ain¡¯t causin¡¯ no trouble! Jus¡¯¡­helpin'' a tourist." He gave me a sloppy grin, showing off sharp, yellowed teeth. ¡°We¡¯re all frien¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°Sure we are,¡± I muttered, trying to gently remove his hand from my shoulder. But he clung on, stubbornly refusing to let go. I glanced back at the bartender, hoping for some help.


    The bartender rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯d recommend getting away from him before he pukes all over you. Happens at least once a week.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Revek protested weakly, clearly offended. ¡°I only puke on people who deserve it!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and last week that was my best customer. So, either help this guy out or get lost, Revek.¡±


    Revek blinked at me again, his alcohol-fogged brain trying to process the situation. ¡°Right, right¡­helpin¡¯ out,¡± he muttered to himself, finally letting go of my shoulder. He swayed on his feet for a moment before pointing a wobbly finger in the direction of the door. ¡°You follow me¡­I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll show you where¡­where the Ricmods are. I know ¡®em, y¡¯know. Know ''em real well. They''ll listen to me¡­"


    ¡°Fantastic,¡± I muttered, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.


    Before I could decide whether to actually follow this drunkard, the bartender gave me a sympathetic look. ¡°Look, if you¡¯re desperate enough to follow this guy, you¡¯re probably desperate enough for a drink first. On the house.¡± He poured a shot of something strong and pushed it towards me. ¡°You¡¯ll need it.¡±


    "Sorry I don''t drink." I immediately replied and walked behind Revek.

 The Hunt begins 2

    Following Revek out into the streets the smell of decay, layered over with the sharp tang of burnt metal, a hint of sulphur, and a faint undercurrent of something foul, rotting beneath the surface hit me in my face so hard that for a moment I had to stop.


    "You alright?" Revek slurred as he stopped and swayed left to right yet didn''t fall.


    "Yes." I immediately replied and waved him off and straightened my back.


    Revek stumbled ahead, swaying like he might fall over at any moment. His gait was uneven, but there was a peculiar rhythm to it, almost as if he¡¯d memorized the cracks and uneven stones beneath his feet. Despite his drunkenness, he wasn¡¯t tripping over anything. It made me wonder if he was as drunk as he seemed, or if he¡¯d been in this state so often that his body just naturally compensated for it.


    I followed Revek closely, my gaze drifting over his hunched form. His movements might have fooled anyone else into believing he was just another drunk wandering through the ruined streets. But something about him was off. I slowed my pace and let my Soul Sight slip into place, allowing me to see past the physical and glimpse the outermost layer of his soul.


    At first, the world dimmed, the edges of reality becoming softer, less defined. Then, gradually, I could see it¡ªthe aura around him. It was muted, almost dull, like the dying embers of a once-bright flame. The colors swirling around him were a mix of deep gray and tarnished gold, frayed at the edges. But it was the feeling beneath the colors that gripped me: a heavy, persistent sense of guilt. It wasn¡¯t the fresh, sharp pang of regret that accompanies a recent mistake. No, this was something older, worn down by time, yet still present¡ªa guilt that had settled into him, accepted but never quite forgotten.


    I frowned. What could weigh on someone so heavily that it became a part of their very being, yet they carried it with such ease? It was as though he¡¯d come to terms with whatever it was long ago, but the burden had never truly left him.


    I let my Soul Sight fade, the tangible world snapping back into focus.


    Eventually we reached my destination. The rumoured home of the Ricmond family home. The moment my eyes landed it all doubts were cast aside as it was evidently a home of important people and the insignia was painted on the front door in all its glory.


    "So, here we are, admire it all you like but I ain''t going to stay here." Revek spoke in a drunken stupor.


    I nodded and flicked him some credits to make sure that he didn''t draw attention to us any more than he already had.


    "Thank you for your help." I replied and walked closer to the house while making sure Revek was in my field of view.


    I watched Revek stagger off, his uneven footsteps echoing faintly in the distance until the sound was swallowed by the oppressive silence of the ruined streets. He didn¡¯t look back, and I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been holding. My eyes followed him until he disappeared around a corner. Only then did I turn my attention to the building before me.


    The Ricmond family home.


    It was a grand structure that stood out against the other buildings in this part of Logi.


    I took a deep breath and surveyed the area, slipping into a familiar mindset. This wasn¡¯t just any building; this was a stronghold hiding behind the guise of a deteriorating home. Every detail mattered.


    The perimeter was my first focus. The high walls were made of a composite material that had weathered the planet¡¯s harsh conditions over the years, showing no signs of significant wear. The surface had a faint shimmer, an indicator of an active energy shield embedded within the structure. While it wasn¡¯t visible to the naked eye, I knew from experience that crossing the threshold without the right clearance would trigger a silent alarm.


    The front entrance was the most obvious point of entry, and therefore, the most dangerous. I paused at a distance, studying the door. It was reinforced with what appeared to be a standard alloy, but a closer look revealed micro-circuitry woven into the material. There was a subtle glow near the edges, barely perceptible unless you knew what to look for. An active scanning grid. Anyone who approached without the proper identification would be met with an electrified shock powerful enough to incapacitate. The door was solid, designed to withstand force, and the electronic lock was no simple keypad but a bio-signature scanner that would reject any unauthorized attempt.


    Moving along the side of the building, I kept to the shadows, careful not to trip any unseen motion sensors. The windows were more than just glass¡ªthey were layered with a transparent nano-weave that could withstand projectile impacts. Even the dirt and grime caked onto the surface wasn¡¯t natural; it was a deliberate coating that masked the surveillance system embedded within, giving the illusion of neglect while monitoring anyone who got too close.


    The side alley revealed a smaller, more discreet door. It lacked the overt security of the front entrance, but that only made it more suspicious. The handle had no visible lock, but an infrared scanner above the doorframe silently tracked my every movement. The door itself likely had pressure sensors, ready to alert the system if tampered with. However, there was a small blind spot in the alley¡ªjust enough space where someone could potentially bypass the sensors, but it would require precision timing and the right equipment.


    I continued my circuit of the building, cataloging the exits and scanning for any patterns in security patrols. The few visible guards blended into the environment, dressed in worn, everyday clothes. But their movements betrayed them. The way they moved¡ªslow, calculated¡ªshowed they were more than just residents. They were monitoring everything, silently communicating through discreet earpieces.


    Once I was confident I had a comprehensive understanding of the building''s defenses, I took a final glance around to make sure Revek hadn¡¯t returned. The alley was still empty, and the streets remained quiet. I was alone.


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    Now came the hard part¡ªdeciding how to breach this fortress without alerting the entire district.


    Before I could finalize a plan, a sudden weight slammed into me from behind, knocking me off balance. I hit the ground hard, feeling the air rush out of my lungs as the world tilted.


    "Of course," I muttered under my breath, pushing myself up on my elbows. "Why not?"


    Deja vu washed over me as I caught sight of Revek sprawled on the ground next to me, groaning. He''d somehow managed to stumble right back into my life within minutes of staggering off. I should''ve known better. The guy had a knack for bad timing.


    "Revek," I growled, dragging myself to my feet. "What the hell¡ª"


    Before I could finish my sentence, I was picked up by a sudden force and put against the wall.


    The pressure against my chest intensified as a rough hand pinned me against the wall, and I gasped for air. A heavy, guttural laugh echoed in the alley, and I barely had time to process what was happening before I felt a cold blade press against my throat.


    ¡°Well, well,¡± a voice sneered, dripping with malice. ¡°Look what we¡¯ve caught sneakin¡¯ around like a little rat.¡±


    I looked to see that it was a bunch of Formorian thugs wearing tattered jackets like a bunch of boy band rejects.


    The one holding me against the wall was built like a tank, his thick arms covered in scars. His breath reeked of stale alcohol, and his eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement. His companions, two others, circled around Revek, who was on his hands and knees, groaning. One of them kicked him in the ribs, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t think we¡¯d find somethin¡¯ interesting tonight, did ya?¡± the thug sneered at Revek. ¡°What¡¯re ya doin¡¯ messin¡¯ around with the Ricmonds, huh? You know better than to stick your nose where it don¡¯t belong.¡±


    "Just... just passin¡¯ through.¡± I spoke in a low voice this was something I was used to by now.


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± the third Formorian spat, stepping closer. His voice was higher-pitched, almost whiny. "You don¡¯t just ¡®pass through¡¯ a place like this, especially not with someone like them.¡± His eyes flicked to Revek, narrowing.


    I kept my breath steady despite the cold blade against my throat, my mind racing through the possibilities. Magic wasn¡¯t always the first option in a situation like this¡ªusing it could draw too much attention¡ªbut these Formorian thugs were asking for it. I quickly assessed the situation: three of them, all focused on either me or Revek, none expecting what was about to come.


    The one holding me against the wall loosened his grip just slightly, probably thinking he had me under control. That was his first mistake.


    With a subtle twist of my fingers, I let my energy flow outward, tendrils of power creeping along my skin, invisible to the naked eye. I didn¡¯t need to make a grand gesture or say a word; this kind of magic was about precision, about control. I reached out with my mind, tapping into the force around me, into the ground beneath my feet and the air that hung thick in the alley.


    A faint shimmer passed through my vision as I activated the spell. A massive of magical energy, aimed directly at the thug¡¯s center of mass.


    Bang!


    The force of the spell hit him like a battering ram. His body was flung backward, crashing into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. He crumpled to the ground, his knife clattering to the pavement. His companions barely had time to react before I was already moving.


    The one who¡¯d been sneering at Revek turned just as I flicked my wrist in his direction. A ripple of energy shot through the air, catching him square in the chest. He was lifted off his feet and thrown into a pile of debris. He groaned, but I could tell I hadn¡¯t done any lasting damage. Enough to hurt, not enough to kill.


    The last thug, the high-pitched one, tried to draw a weapon, but I was faster. A small flicker of flame danced at my fingertips, and I sent it spinning towards him. It wasn¡¯t a fireball¡ªtoo flashy¡ªbut a concentrated burst of heat. It struck his hand, and he screamed, dropping the gun he¡¯d been reaching for.


    ¡°Stay down,¡± I warned, my voice cold. He whimpered, clutching his hand, and dropped to his knees without protest.


    I took a step back, surveying the damage. All three thugs were down, groaning in pain but still conscious. I didn¡¯t enjoy this kind of work, but sometimes a little force was necessary.


    Revek was slowly getting to his feet, clutching his ribs. He looked at me with a mixture of awe and confusion, like he hadn¡¯t expected me to handle things so quickly.


    As I glanced down at the unconscious thugs and the bruised, groaning form of Revek, something in me snapped. I¡¯d had enough. Enough of this miserable planet, enough of these back-alley ambushes, and enough of all the waiting and careful planning. I didn¡¯t come this far to be tripped up by some low-life thugs and a drunken guide.


    "Fuck it," I muttered under my breath, brushing the dirt off my clothes.


    Without a word I focused and the whole world wrapped as I appeared in the sky falling down.


    The wind whipped around me as I free-fell toward the estate, the world beneath me shrinking and warping in dizzying patterns. It wasn''t the first time I''d teleported myself mid-air, but the sensation was never pleasant.


    As I neared the roof of the estate I immediately teleported again and slowed my descent just enough to land with a controlled roll across the composite tiles. I exhaled sharply, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins, but there was no time to linger on the rush of it.


    The roof was flat, with several vent systems and maintenance hatches dotting the surface. It wasn''t entirely unguarded, either. Two figures patrolled the perimeter, they wore some kind of body suit that generally looked like straight out of a comic book.


    I immediately went behind a vent to make sure I wasn''t in sight of any cameras or anything that would see me.


    My objective was clear: find Goda Ricmond and extract the information I needed. But before I could get to Goda, I had to deal with the guards, and they wouldn¡¯t go down as easily as the thugs in the alley.


    With another short Teleportation, my head felt like it was being hit by a hammer, I was immediately behind both the guards on the roof putting my hands on their necks they barely had time to react before a small, concentrated shock traveled through them, enough to knock them unconscious without making a sound. They slumped to the ground, and I caught them before they could make any noise.


    Two down.


    I carefully laid the unconscious guards down, ensuring they were out of sight. The rooftop remained silent, save for the faint hum of the estate''s internal systems.


    My whole body was sweating like I had just jumped in a river.


    Surveying the roof, I spotted a hatch that likely led to the interior. It was reinforced, but nothing compared to the defenses on the ground level. I knelt beside it, examining the locking mechanism. It was a standard electronic lock.


    "Shit." I didn''t really know how to hack stuff like this since I wasn''t really that great with tech to be honest but I knew enough to recognise it.


    I stared at the reinforced hatch, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my temple. The lock''s digital display blinked mockingly at me, as if it knew I wasn''t going to crack it.


    "Shit," I muttered under my breath again. I was good at a lot of things, but hacking wasn''t one of them. Tech had never been my strong suit. Sure, I could work my way around simple systems, but this? This was way out of my league.


    I glanced back at the unconscious guards, my mind racing. One of them was human, about my height and build. An idea started to form. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but desperate times called for desperate measures.


    "Alright," I whispered to myself, "Plan B it is."


    Moving quickly, I dragged the guard into the shadow of a nearby vent, out of sight from any cameras or patrols. As I stripped off his suit, I tried not to think too much about how ridiculous this was going to look. The suit was tight, made of some advanced material that seemed to mold itself to the body. As I slipped into it, I cursed again under my breath.


    It fit. Barely.


    "Great," I grumbled, adjusting the suit so it didn¡¯t constrict my movement too much. The helmet came next, and once I secured it, the internal HUD flickered to life, displaying a basic interface. I could see through the helmet¡¯s visor, and a small, transparent display showed me vital signs, nearby security points, and a feed of the comms chatter between guards.


    "Alright, maybe this isn''t so bad," I muttered. With the suit on, I looked just like one of them, blending in with the patrols. Now, I just had to make it through the estate without raising any alarms.


    I approached the hatch again, this time with the guard''s keycard in hand. Swiping it through the lock, the mechanism clicked open. I took a deep breath and pulled the hatch open, peering down into the dimly lit interior of the estate. A ladder descended into a maintenance corridor, likely used by staff to move around unseen.


    Quietly, I climbed down, closing the hatch behind me. The corridor was narrow, lined with pipes and cables running along the walls. It wasn¡¯t as heavily secured as the rest of the building, but I still moved cautiously, my eyes scanning for any hidden cameras or tripwires.


    The air was cooler inside, the oppressive heat from the planet¡¯s surface replaced by a more controlled, sterile atmosphere. I could hear the faint hum of machinery, and somewhere in the distance, footsteps echoed through the halls.


    I checked the map on the guard''s HUD, orienting myself. Goda Ricmond¡¯s quarters were on the upper levels, far from the maintenance areas, but the suit¡¯s access should get me closer. If I could just get to the central lift¡­


    I set off, my nerves on edge. Every step felt like it could be the one that gave me away, but there was no turning back now.


    Yet before I could walk off a pair of hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me into the room. We

 The Hunt begins 3

    A surge of panic passed through me as the hands yanked me into the dim room. My instincts kicked in and I tried to twist and turn yet the grip was surprisingly strong that I was unable to break free.


    I barely had time to process anything before I was thrown against the wall. The impact rattled my bones and left me disoriented.


    Before I could react to these events the assilent moved from one to the other end of the large room in a single blink. Her fist immediately connected with my jaw, the force of the punch sending stars exploding in my vision.


    I stumbled back, trying to regain my balance, but she didn¡¯t let up. She followed me with a series of rapid strikes, each one more precise than the last. I blocked a few, but she was relentless. A knee to my stomach knocked the wind out of me, and I doubled over in pain.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± she growled, her voice barely audible.


    I didn¡¯t answer. There was no time to talk¡ªno time to explain. I had to get control of the situation, but every move I made was countered. I tried to sweep her legs out from under her, but she anticipated it, stepping back and delivering a sharp kick to my side that sent me sprawling to the ground.


    The taste of blood entered my mouth. She wasn¡¯t just strong; she was trained, experienced. I could feel the weight of every blow she landed, and my body was already screaming in protest. I pushed myself up on my hands and knees, but she grabbed me by the collar and hauled me to my feet, slamming me against the wall again.


    "Answer me!" She growled.


    Slowly as her face came into focus, and I finally got a good look at her. She was tall, at least a head taller than me, with a presence that seemed to fill the entire room. Her bright red hair fell in sharp, angular strands, framing a face that was all edges and shadows. The red wasn¡¯t natural¡ªtoo vivid, too striking¡ªmore like fire that had been harnessed and tamed.


    Her skin was tanned, almost bronze, glistening with a faint sheen of sweat, and her features were fierce, predatory. Knife-like ears jutted out from the sides of her head, sleek and pointed, adding to the inhuman sharpness of her appearance. And then there were her eyes¡ªcold, calculating, and utterly alien. Lizard-like, with slitted pupils that seemed to pierce right through me. They were the color of molten gold, reflecting the dim light in the room like some kind of cursed treasure.


    She tightened her grip on my collar, her face close enough that I could see the scales around her eyes, barely noticeable but there, then it clicked she was a dragon born or something close to that.


    I immediately spoke a bit of annoyance and anger in my voice. "Just wait a minute I won''t be able to answer you if you keep hitting me."


    Without waiting for her reply I continued to speak since this was something I was very good at. "I don''t want a fight I just want to find Goda Ricmond and ask him a few questions."


    She narrowed her eyes, her grip on my collar loosening just slightly as she studied me. I could feel her breath, hot against my skin, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of hesitation in those molten gold eyes.


    "God''s Ricmond?" she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. "You¡¯re here for *that*?"


    I nodded, swallowing hard. My ribs ached, and my head was still spinning from the barrage of blows. But I couldn¡¯t show weakness now. Not when I had a chance to get through to her.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, forcing the words out. ¡°That¡¯s all I want. I¡¯m not here to fight you, or to take anything else. Just Ricmond.¡±


    She tilted her head slightly, a sharp smile curling on her lips. ¡°You think I¡¯ll just hand it over?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not asking for charity,¡± I shot back. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, let¡¯s talk. There¡¯s no need for this.¡±


    She released me abruptly, and I stumbled back, my hand instinctively reaching for the wall to steady myself. She moved to the other side of the room, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched me with an amused expression.


    ¡°Talk then,¡± she said, her tone laced with mockery. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my side. I had to choose my words carefully.


    Rubbing my jaw I straightened up trying to regain some of my already buried pride. Her expression was unreadable except a single sigh that she released.


    Silently I gave the room a look, it was larger then I had expected yet it was very dark since no light was open but I couldn''t see any camera hidden here yet I didn''t let my guard down since they could already know I was here.


    ¡°Listen,¡± I began, keeping my voice steady. ¡°I¡¯m just here for one thing¡ªthe Silver Tear. I don¡¯t care about whatever else is going on. I¡¯m a bounty hunter, not a crusader. You let me get what I came for, and I¡¯ll be out of here before you know it. No trouble.¡±


    From my perspective she wasn''t one of the guards here since her outfit didn''t look similar enough she looked like a knight rather than a guard.


    She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Her eyes flicked over me, weighing every word. "A bounty hunter, huh? You don''t look like much of one." She smirked.


    I ignored the jab. "I¡¯ve been doing this long enough to know when to pick my fights. And right now, I don¡¯t see any reason to fight you."


    She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Huh, well I am not I am here to kill Goda Ricmond."


    The room went deathly quiet after her words, the only sound being my own ragged breathing. I studied her carefully, trying to read the tension in her body language. She wasn''t bluffing.


    This made things easier. We could work together.


    "You want him dead," I said slowly, watching her reaction. "I want information. Maybe we can help each other out."


    She eyed me for a long time her face unreadable, which made me more anxious since I still didn''t know if the guards here figured out that the two guards above were not responding.


    Finally she gave me a slight nod. "Alright."


    I tilted my head slightly while rubbing my still sore jaw. "Good, you can call me... Kamina." I said using one of many throwaway aliases I had made.


    She was still looking at me with a blank expression before giving me her name as well. "And you can call me Ember."


    I knew this game well enough we both had given fake names, although I didn''t know if she was aware of it but I figured it might be the case.


    Now that was done both ember and I pushed of the wall and walked towards the door. If she had a plan, I needed to know what it was. Besides, staying in that room wasn¡¯t going to get me anywhere.


    Slowly both of us walked into the corridors making sure no one was near yet the 2nd floor was oddly quiet except for the occasional footsteps.


    I continued to walk behind Ember making sure to keep enough distance that I could fire a spell if she decided to betray me.


    Although the thing that kept me at the edge was that I couldn''t really see her weapon so it made me slightly nervous.


    Ahead, a faint glimmer of light filtered through the cracks of a door at the end of the hall. Ember glanced back at me, her eyes narrowing in warning. I nodded in understanding.


    She reached for the handle and paused, her head tilting as if listening for something beyond the door. I strained my ears, trying to pick up on whatever had caught her attention, but there was only the muffled hum of machinery somewhere in the building. Finally, she gave the door a gentle push, and it swung open with a soft creak.


    Inside, the room was bathed in a dim, reddish glow. The source of the light was an array of monitors lining the far wall, each displaying different feeds from security cameras scattered throughout the facility. In the center of the room sat a single guard, slouched in his chair, seemingly oblivious to our presence. His eyes were glued to one of the monitors, completely engrossed in whatever mundane task he was performing.


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    I silently closed the distance between the guard and I, outstretching my arm as invisible lines went from my hand to the head of the guard. The guard''s breathing was steady, but I could feel the magic tugging at his consciousness, pulling him toward a forced slumber.


    His head jerked slightly, a sign that he felt something was wrong. I watched as his eyes darted to the sides, trying to resist the unnatural pull of sleep. But it was too late.


    He would be feeling his mind getting slower and his body not listening to him. For a brief moment, our eyes met, and I saw the confusion, the realization that something wasn¡¯t right. His mouth opened as if to shout, but all that came out was a soft exhale. His hand twitched toward an alarm button on the desk, but his movements were sluggish, too slow to be of any use.


    "Shhh," I whispered under my breath, reinforcing the spell with a final surge of power. His eyelids drooped, and his body sagged in the chair as if the weight of the world had suddenly become too much to bear.


    Within moments, the guard¡¯s breathing deepened, his head lolling to the side. The tension in the room dissipated, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.


    Ember came in behind me as she put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a nod her face still expression less.


    The cameras showed various parts of the facility¡ªmostly empty corridors, storage rooms, and the occasional patrolling guard.


    However before I could look through the cameras Ember spoke silently. "There," she whispered pointing at a specific screen in the middle. "that''s him."


    I followed her finger to the screen and saw a man, Roxian, pacing back and forth while his antennas were moving wildly showing that he was agitated.


    Good it seemed that he hadn''t noticed us.


    Looking around I immediately pushed the guard of the chair and tried to find which floor that was.


    I found the corresponding number on the screen and traced it back to the control panel. "He''s on the first floor." I muttered.


    Ember stood by the door with her eyes darting between the hallway and the screen she asked a simple question. "Does he have guards with him?"


    "Not from the looks of it but I predict that they are hidden somewhere else." I replied glancing briefly at her before at the screen.


    She didn¡¯t argue, simply nodded and moved toward the door, her steps as silent as a shadow. I followed her out into the hallway, making sure the guard was still deep in his magically-induced slumber. The corridor was still eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint hum of machinery and the occasional soft clink of metal from Ember''s armor.


    We made our way down the winding corridors, avoiding the few patrols that passed by.


    Finally, after a few minutes we reached the stairway that led down to the first floor however it seemed that it was guarded by a few people.


    We paused at the top of the stairway, crouching low behind a concrete railing. Below, three guards stood at attention, their weapons ready, their gazes fixed on the opposite side of the room. They hadn''t noticed us yet, but that would change the moment we stepped into their line of sight.


    I glanced at Ember, unsure of what to do next. But before I could even think of a plan, she was already moving. A blur of bronze and fire-red hair, she launched herself over the railing without making a sound. For a moment, all I could do was watch as she seemed to defy gravity, her body twisting gracefully through the air as if she were born to it.


    Then, there was the rush of wind¡ªswift and precise. It passed so close to me that I instinctively ducked, even though I knew she wasn¡¯t aiming for me.


    I blinked, and Ember was already in the middle of the guards. The first man didn''t even have time to react before her fist connected with his throat, the impact so sudden that he collapsed without a sound. She moved on to the second guard with such fluidity that it was almost impossible to follow her movements. Her leg swept out, catching him in the ribs and sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.


    By the time I registered what was happening, the third guard had raised his weapon, but it was far too slow. Ember was behind him in an instant, her arm wrapping around his neck in a chokehold. His struggles were brief; within seconds, he slumped to the floor, unconscious.


    The entire thing couldn¡¯t have lasted more than five seconds, and I barely managed to catch up with what had just happened. Ember stood in the middle of the fallen guards, her breathing steady, not a hair out of place. She turned to look at me, her expression calm, as if this was just another day.


    I slowly descended the stairs, trying to keep my cool even though my heart was pounding in my chest. ¡°That was... efficient,¡± I muttered, keeping my voice low.


    She didn¡¯t respond, only gave me a small nod before gesturing for me to follow her again. I did, but now I was more cautious than ever. Whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªEmber was, she was more dangerous than I had initially thought.


    We continued down the stairway, stepping over the unconscious guards, and made our way toward the first floor.


    As we reached the bottom, Ember paused and glanced at me, her golden eyes narrowing slightly. ¡°Stay close,¡± she said, her voice a soft whisper.


    I nodded and peaked my head out the door to see about two mor guards that didn''t seem to have heard the noise probably due to the constant hum it machinery which was masking the noise we made.


    This time I was the one who moved first. Blinking behind the guards I put my hands on one each and immediately gave them a small taze enough that it would be able to knock them out.


    I paused briefly, making sure the guards were fully unconscious before signaling Ember to move forward. She gave me a slight nod, and together we approached the door at the far end of the corridor.


    My heart was hammering in my chest, I hadn''t done something like this before.


    Ember reached for the handle, but this time she didn¡¯t rush. She hesitated, her hands shook a little before she pushed the door open.


    The door swung open with a soft creak, revealing a dimly lit room. At its center stood Goda Ricmond¡ªa Roxian, just as I¡¯d seen on the monitor his form wasn''t really imposing as he would barely be as tall as my chest, his antennae twitching with an unsettling rhythm. His eyes, large and black as the void, locked onto us immediately.


    ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d arrive,¡± Ricmond said, his voice calm, almost amused. He didn¡¯t seem surprised at all to see us, which sent a cold shiver down my spine.


    I stepped forward with my hands up showing I meant no harm. "Sorry, but I need answers."


    Ricmond chuckled, a low, vibrating sound. "Answers? You barged into my home, fought your way through my guards, and now you think I¡¯m just going to hand you what you want?¡±


    His antennas flicked forward as he took a step toward us, and I instinctively raised my guard.


    ¡°Did you think I wouldn¡¯t notice you creeping through my facility?¡± Ricmond continued, his tone dripping with condescension. ¡°Every camera, every guard¡ªevery step you took was monitored.¡±


    "You wanted something from us or at least one of us?" I asked to try to buy some time to assess the situation.


    "You," he looked at me with a small smile or at least I think it was a smile. "Really have a huge sense of self importance don''t you. I don''t really care about you. You''re just some rubbish that can''t understand what he has gotten himself into. Bring him in."


    At those words a person jumped down with another person in their grasp. I immediately recognised the sea green skin and alcoholic smell.


    It was Revek my guide, he was the one who showed me around this place.


    The man was stricken with terror across his face as he tried to free himself but the clocked individual was far too strong for him.


    "Revek!" I shouted, stepping forward instinctively, but Ember''s arm shot out, blocking my path.


    "Careful," she whispered, her eyes never leaving Ricmond. "This could be a trap."


    Ricmond''s cold smile widened at the sight of my reaction. "Oh, don''t worry. Your little friend here isn''t dead¡ªyet. But he could be, with just a little more pressure." The armored figure tightened its grip on Revek, and he let out a pained gasp.


    I clenched my fists, anger boiling inside me. This guy pissed me off so much that I just wanted to get this over with.


    It wasn''t that I couldn''t do anything here it was just that anything I did would end up killing someone. That was something I didn''t like all that much.


    At that moment everything slowed down a magical energy immediately set up and designed to heighten my senses and accelerate my thought processes.


    Hundreds of outcomes played out in mere seconds, each one a potential solution, a possible escape, or a devastating failure. I could see every subtle movement in the room, from Ricmond¡¯s antennae twitching to the nearly imperceptible shift in the stance of the clocked individual.


    Option one: A quick teleport to Revek, disarming the cloaked figure with a paralysis spell. But the instant I made contact, Revek would be crushed. Although that was still hypothetical rather than a fact.


    Option two: Distract Ricmond with a burst of energy, allowing Ember to close the gap and neutralize the cloaked figure. She was fast, incredibly so but from what I could see there were at least four more individuals here with the same amount of mana as the individual in front of me.


    Option three: I could project an illusion of me and then take the guard out and leave the rest to Ember she could take them.


    I cycled through more scenarios¡ªeach one slightly different, each one bringing a different level of risk. Yet with each scenario my mind ached, my body struggling to keep up with the sheer speed of my thoughts. But in that brief eternity, a single plan crystallized. One that had the best chance of survival.


    There were no traps at least that was crucial to my plan, since nothing was interfering with magic that meant that Ricmond hadn''t really done anything to defend this place.


    I exhaled slowly, allowing the world to speed back up. Ricmond¡¯s voice was still dripping with condescension as he taunted me. I ignored him, yet I could remember a scene from a book I read years ago that brought a smile to my face.


    "Hey, Ricmond have you heard of the new railgun tank?"


    I stretched out my hand, fingers splayed wide as I visualized the charge building within the air around me. Electrons danced between my fingertips, crackling with a faint, blue-white glow.


    The temperature around my palm dropped slightly as I drew in the static energy from the room, every particle aligning like soldiers ready for battle. I could feel the air ionizing, creating that sharp, metallic scent just before a storm. The charge grew stronger, condensed, until the current hummed with lethal potential.


    In a split second, I shaped it into a single, jagged line of electricity, and with a flick of my wrist, I unleashed it. The bolt snapped forward, faster than sound, a blinding arc that tore through the air like nature''s purest weapon. It didn¡¯t just move¡ªit ripped the space between me and Ricmond, sizzling with the heat of a thousand suns.


    The cloaked figure was fast, but not fast enough. The lightning hit its mark, and the figure convulsed violently, releasing Revek as the shock traveled through its body. Revek crumpled to the floor, gasping for air but alive, and that was all I needed to see.


    Ember moved in the same moment I fired the bolt, a blur of motion that was almost too fast to track. She closed the distance between us and the remaining guards in a heartbeat, her blade which I hadn''t noticed before already in mid swing, but was stopped by the other guards.


    However she didn''t hesitate for a single second as she twisted her body in mid air using the wind itself as a platform to perform a flip, In one fluid motion, she took down the first of the cloaked figures, her fist connecting with his throat before spinning around to knock another unconscious with the hilt of her blade.


    The room erupted into chaos as the remaining figures rushed us, but I was already prepared. The world around me glitched and I had been teleported near Revek and Ricmond.


    I picked Revek in one arm and stole the silver tear from Richmond by the other, Ricmond hadn''t even processed what was going on since everything had happened in less than five seconds.


    The chaos was deafening. I watched as Ember moved through the guards like a storm, her blade dancing in her hands, slicing through their defenses with precision and power.


    But my attention was drawn to the figure I had hit with the lightning bolt.


    It was still twitching on the floor, but its movements were unnervingly mechanical. I crouched beside it, inspecting the damage. The black cloak had been partially burned away, revealing a sleek, metallic frame beneath. Its limbs were not flesh and bone but high-quality alloys, a blend of cutting-edge robotics and synthetic skin. There was no blood. No organic matter at all.


    Fascinating.


    This wasn¡¯t just any machine. Whoever had built these things had access to some incredibly advanced tech. The lightning bolt should have fried any normal circuitry, but this¡­ this thing had survived. I leaned in closer, curiosity overriding my caution. And then I saw it¡ªa small, flashing screen embedded in its chest.


    A timer.


    My blood ran cold. The numbers were counting down¡ªtoo fast for comfort. Twenty seconds. Nineteen. Eighteen.


    ¡°Shit!¡± I scrambled back, shouting, ¡°It¡¯s a bomb!¡±


    Without wasting another second, I blinked. One moment I was next to the machine; the next, I stood beside Revek, pulling him up with one arm while snatching the silver tear from Ricmond with the other. Ricmond barely had time to register what was happening before Ember¡¯s blade found him.


    She didn¡¯t hesitate. Her blade pierced his chest with surgical precision. Ricmond¡¯s eyes widened in shock, blood trickling from his mouth as he collapsed to the floor.


    "Get out!" Ember''s voice cut through the chaos, her tone sharp and commanding. She turned toward me, her face set in a grim expression. I could hear the building groaning, metal supports beginning to give under the strain. The explosion was imminent.


    With one last glance at Ricmond''s lifeless body, she bolted, moving faster than I thought possible. I didn¡¯t wait around to find out what would happen next. Another blink, and I was at the exit, dragging Revek along with me.


    We barely made it out before the explosion ripped through the building. The ground trembled, the force of the blast sending debris flying in every direction. I shielded Revek


    The force hit me like a freight train, and despite my best efforts, we were launched into the air. The ground disappeared beneath my feet, and for a split second, all I could see was sky and chaos.


    Revek¡¯s limp body slipped from my grasp, and I reached for him, but the shockwave carried us both away. Pain shot through me as I slammed into something solid¡ªhard enough to rattle my skull. My vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges of my sight. I was losing consciousness.


    But just before I faded completely, a pair of arms caught me, breaking my fall. The scent was familiar¡ªlike ozone and cold metal, sharp and unmistakable. I struggled to open my eyes, but I knew who it was before I even saw the face.


    "You''re a sorry sight to see Saturn." a calm, steady voice said.


    It was Orvox. The Formorian was still in his priest attire and was showing his teeth In a wide manner that would be horrific at any other moment.


    The last thing I heard before everything went dark was his voice, low and reassuring.


    "Rest now." Yet for some reason this voice was different from before something terrifying.

 Deception 1

    Regret. I said I wouldn¡¯t let myself feel it again. I promised myself. Yet here I am, standing in this mess I created, and it¡¯s all I can feel. It¡¯s gnawing at me. I hate it. I hate me for it.


    This wasn¡¯t just some dumb mistake¡ªit was worse. So much worse. I had a thousand chances to do the right thing, to think, to stop myself. But I didn¡¯t. And now I¡¯m stuck here, staring at the aftermath, wishing I could rewind, do anything to take it back.


    My throat tightens, and I feel numb. My hands are shaking, my chest feels heavy. It¡¯s stupid, it¡¯s pathetic. I want to slap myself. How did I let it get this bad? How could I have been so caught up in the moment, forgetting something so obvious?


    I can¡¯t even look up, my head¡¯s buried in my hands. My mind¡¯s racing, replaying it all, over and over. Each time, I see where I could¡¯ve stopped, where I could¡¯ve made a different choice. But I didn¡¯t. And that makes it hurt more.


    Out of nowhere, a voice breaks through the haze. Soft, but loud enough to startle me. "Are you going to be like that from now on?"


    I freeze. The words cut through the spiral of regret, yanking me back to the present. I blink, trying to process what I just heard.


    "What?" I ask genuinely confused.


    Looking at the source of the voice it was Orvox the Formorian priest standing in the doorway. His face was neutral showing some sympathy.


    Which made me annoyed yet I buried that feeling since at this moment it would be even more moronic to feel that.


    Orvox steps further into the room, his towering form casting a long shadow across the floor. His voice is measured, calm as always, but there¡¯s a weight to it. "Are you going to be like that from now on?" he repeats, this time with a hint of firmness.


    I stare at him, unable to answer right away. His neutral expression, while laced with a flicker of sympathy, feels out of place. I almost want him to scold me, to tell me how I messed up. Instead, he just stands there, watching.


    "Of course I am," I finally mutter, my voice hoarse. "I caused someone¡¯s death because of my own stupidity, so yeah, I¡¯m a bit mad at myself."


    Orvox raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. I can feel my anger rising, not at him but at myself, at the situation. "You don¡¯t get it," I continue, my words spilling out faster now. "It wasn¡¯t some random accident. I had so many chances to do the right thing, to stop before it got this bad. But I didn¡¯t. And now Revek is dead because I was too damn caught up in my own¡ª"


    "You can stop there," Orvox interrupts, raising a hand. His tone is still steady, almost infuriatingly so. "I understand more than you think. But wallowing in your own mistakes isn¡¯t going to bring him back."


    I want to snap at him, to tell him that he doesn¡¯t understand, that he wasn¡¯t there. But I don¡¯t. Instead, I let the silence stretch between us.


    I sigh, the weight of it escaping me before I can stop it. I don¡¯t want to keep going with this¡ªdon¡¯t want to keep drowning in it, reliving every mistake, every failure. I know I¡¯m running away, but I can¡¯t deal with it right now. Not with Orvox standing there, waiting for me to break down or something.


    I shift my stance, forcing my voice to steady. "How did you even figure out I¡¯d be at Goda Ricmond? Stealing the artifact?"


    Orvox doesn¡¯t hesitate. "I¡¯ve been keeping an eye on you."


    The words hit me, and I feel the frustration rising again. "Stupid," I mutter under my breath, dragging a hand through my hair. "Should¡¯ve known better. Should¡¯ve put up some barriers or something."


    I don¡¯t even look at him as I say it. The truth is, I¡¯d been too careless, too reckless, thinking I could pull it off without anyone noticing. And now, I was paying for it¡ªmore than I could¡¯ve imagined.


    Orvox''s question lingers in the air, but his eyes soften slightly. "What I''m here for?" He pauses for a moment, as if weighing his words. "Since Revek had no family left, and you... were the one to take care of the burial arrangements, I¡¯m here to finalize the finances."


    I flinch at the mention of the grave. It feels like a gut punch, a reminder of what I¡¯ve done, how my choices led to this. I barely manage to nod, my throat dry. "Right," I mumble. "The money."


    Orvox steps closer, still looming over me with his towering frame. "It was thoughtful of you to handle it. Revek... he didn¡¯t have many people left."


    "Yeah," I mutter, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me. "Guess someone had to."


    It¡¯s not like Revek had a big family, or any at all. Most of the people who cared about him were long gone. His life was a string of close calls and bad decisions, much like mine. Maybe that¡¯s why we clicked¡ªtwo screw-ups trying to survive in a world that didn¡¯t want us.


    But still, the fact that I had to dip into my parents¡¯ money for this¡ªit stings. I¡¯m not a kid anymore. I should¡¯ve had enough to cover something like this myself. The thought gnaws at me, another reminder of how far I¡¯ve fallen.


    Orvox watches me for a beat, but he doesn¡¯t say anything. He¡¯s giving me space, or maybe he¡¯s waiting for me to make a move. Either way, I feel the pressure to respond.


    "It¡¯s fine," I finally say, clearing my throat. "I¡¯ll sort it out."


    He nods, and for a moment, the room falls silent again, save for the low hum of the building¡¯s outdated ventilation system. My mind starts to wander, thinking back to Revek, to the mess I created, to the life I¡¯m barely holding onto.


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    But Orvox isn¡¯t here to talk about that. He¡¯s here for the money, for the closure, for all the stuff I don¡¯t want to deal with. I swallow hard and force myself to focus.


    "Look," I say, forcing the words out before I lose my nerve. "I didn¡¯t want it to come to this. I didn¡¯t want¡ª"


    "You don¡¯t have to explain it to me," Orvox cuts in gently, his voice soft but firm. "What¡¯s done is done. You did what you could."


    I bite my tongue, the words I want to say stuck in my throat. Did I really do what I could? Or did I just make things worse?


    I don¡¯t know anymore.


    "Just make sure everything¡¯s settled," I murmur. "I don¡¯t want any more loose ends."


    Orvox gives a small nod, and with that, the conversation ends as abruptly as it began.


    However before he could leave my apartment another familiar face showed up behind him. While she was significantly shorter than Orvox, to be honest the man was around 4 meters tall.


    I clear my throat, more out of reflex than anything, my mind scrambling for an explanation. ¡°Miss Ember?¡± I say, confused about why she is here.


    She glances at me, her expression neutral but with a hint of something unreadable in her eyes. "Still here?" I ask, trying to keep the confusion out of my voice. ¡°I thought you¡¯d have left the planet by now. Your job¡¯s done.¡±


    Before she can answer Orvox speaks. "The reason for that is the mane festival. Due to such the flights outside have increased in price." His eyes filled with nostalgia.


    I nod remembering the conversation that I had heard a few days ago about the festival. I should have probably read up on it since such festivals are always important in magic.


    Orvox steps aside as Ember cautiously enters, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room. It¡¯s instinctual for her, I can tell¡ªlike a hunter assessing a potential threat. She doesn¡¯t trust easily, and I don¡¯t blame her. Especially not in a place like this. I can¡¯t help but notice the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her hand is gathering little bits of mana.


    A tell. Most people have them if you pay attention long enough. Orvox, despite his calm demeanor, always tilts his head slightly when he¡¯s about to deliver bad news. It¡¯s subtle, but once you catch it, you never miss it again. Ember¡¯s tell is more obvious. When she¡¯s uncomfortable, her eyes dart around, calculating, as if she¡¯s preparing for an escape.


    I shift my stance, pretending not to notice, but it¡¯s a habit of mine¡ªobserving people, reading their ticks.


    Still, the way I¡¯ve been watching them both is starting to make things weird. I can see Orvox¡¯s brow furrow slightly, though he says nothing. Ember, on the other hand, stiffens as if she feels my gaze on her. I immediately shift my focus elsewhere, like a kid caught staring too long at something he shouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°You always do that?¡± Ember asks, breaking the silence, her tone almost accusatory. Her amber eyes narrow at me, and for a second, I wonder if I¡¯ve crossed some invisible line.


    ¡°Do what?¡± I reply, keeping my voice casual, but inside I¡¯m bracing for whatever judgment she¡¯s about to throw at me.


    ¡°You know, staring. Like you¡¯re dissecting everyone in the room.¡±


    Orvox gives a low chuckle, the first sign of amusement he¡¯s shown since he arrived. "I noticed as well lad. It''s unnerving."


    I feel my face flush, a wave of embarrassment I haven¡¯t felt in a long time. ¡°It¡¯s not¡ª¡± I start, then stop, realizing I don¡¯t have a good defense. ¡°It¡¯s just... a habit.¡±


    ¡°A creepy one,¡± Ember mutters, though there¡¯s no real malice in her voice. ¡°Makes you look like you¡¯re imagining something creepy."


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I say, maybe too quickly. ¡°It¡¯s just... you learn a lot by paying attention to people¡¯s tells.¡±


    Orvox raises an eyebrow at that, looking mildly curious. Ember crosses her arms, her expression skeptical.


    ¡°And what exactly have you learned from watching us?¡± she asks, tilting her head slightly, almost daring me to answer.


    For a moment, I hesitate. This was a precious situation since many while ask such questions aren''t happy if they receive one.


    Lying would be better. Or at least not something important.


    I clear my throat, glancing between them both before answering. "Sorry, I haven''t learnt a thing about you guys."


    Orvox grunts, unimpressed by the dodge. Ember, on the other hand, doesn¡¯t seem to buy it either. Her eyes narrow even further, but then she shrugs and lets it drop.


    "Fine. Keep your little secrets." she mutters as the mana in her hand disperses.


    I nod, relieved that she didn¡¯t push any further. The truth is, I¡¯ve learned a lot from watching them¡ªmaybe more than I should have. But some things are better left unsaid.


    Orvox then spoke sitting down in of the chairs in the apartment, although he seemed to be a bit annoyed probably because this was the only normal sized furniture in this building and other were larger due to the size of the average Formorian.


    "So, Saturn got anything from Zeed?"


    "Hmm, I don''t know why you may have an interest in such a matter Orvox but yes I did." I replied to Orvox I didn''t fully trust either of these people since I had only known them for a few days.


    As I replied to Orvox my left hand took the letter in my pocket. Zeed had given it to me since from his sources a person by the name of CC was attending.


    The letter was crumpled a bit due to being in my pocket all day. The letter was an invitation to an auction, not surprising that someone like CC would be at an auction the man was already very rich from his birth.


    As the conversation lingers in the air, I find myself growing more restless. Orvox¡¯s gaze flickers towards me again, but it¡¯s clear that he¡¯s not here for any long-winded discussions about regrets. Ember stands near the window, arms still crossed, her eyes darting from me to Orvox as if deciding whether to stick around or not.


    I take a deep breath, trying to clear the tension in my chest. "Look," I start, my voice more tired than I expected, "I¡¯ve got things to handle. Personal stuff."


    Orvox¡¯s massive frame shifts in his chair, a slight creak escaping under his weight. ¡°I¡¯m sure you do.¡± He gives me a knowing look, not pressing the issue any further.


    Ember glances between us, and for a moment, I think she¡¯s going to say something snarky, but instead, she just shrugs. "Okay," she says, turning towards the door. "Then I will be off then."


    Without another word, she brushes past Orvox and exits the room, her presence fading like a passing storm. Orvox follows suit, rising to his full height.


    ¡°Take care, Saturn,¡± Orvox says, and though his tone is neutral, there¡¯s something in it¡ªan unspoken understanding. ¡°And don¡¯t forget to eat."


    I force a small, tired smile. ¡°Yeah, I won¡¯t forget.¡±


    With that, Orvox steps out, the door clicking shut behind him. The apartment is silent again, save for the hum of the ventilation. I let out a long sigh and glance around. The emptiness feels suffocating, yet somehow, I¡¯m relieved to be alone.


    I turn towards the kitchen, remembering the steak I¡¯d promised Amon. I pull it out of the fridge and put it in the plate.


    ¡°Amon!¡± I call out, my voice echoing slightly. ¡°Your food¡¯s ready.¡±


    From my shadow a paw reaches out and Amon jumps out. He is still the same dog although if one looked closely they could see that he wasn''t a shadow but more had very dark fur and markings on its body.


    Looking at him caused me more pain since his form was a constant reminder of my dead dog.


    He eyes the steak in my hand, his tail swishing with impatience. "Here you go, buddy," I say, tossing the steak toward him.


    "About damn time Saturn." He replies while he chews the meat.


    I don''t reply, I''m not in the mood to have a back and forth.


    Amon glances up, licking the last of the steak juices from the plate. "You¡¯re still brooding, aren¡¯t you?"


    I don¡¯t answer right away. I don¡¯t know what to say. Am I brooding? Maybe. But it¡¯s not because I feel this overwhelming sadness for Revek. I don¡¯t. It¡¯s just... something about a life ending like that¡ªit feels wrong. A waste. I hate that I couldn¡¯t stop it, hate that my choices led to it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m feeling,¡± I admit quietly, staring at the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t feel... sad, exactly. Just... I dunno. Guilty? Angry? It¡¯s all mixed up.¡±


    Amon tilts his head, studying me with those sharp, almost too-intelligent eyes of his. ¡°You¡¯re not upset that Revek¡¯s gone. You¡¯re upset because it makes you feel like a failure. Because you think you should¡¯ve done more.¡±


    He isn''t wrong since I hadn''t known Revek for more than a day to come to care for him but even then I never liked a life that just ended.


    "You could say that but to be honest I have to focus on CC now since he is the goal of the hunt." I say while looking through my suitcase for formal attire.


    Amon watches me with a knowing expression, his tail swishing lazily. "So, what¡¯s the plan for CC?" he asks, his voice still muffled from chewing the last bits of steak. "Are you going to go in all stealthy again, or just crash the place?"


    I pull out a suit that I always keep with me for these events. "Can''t crash this place since this is more of a legal side than the Goda Ricmond. To be honest i just want to keep it clean. I will probably put him to sleep and from there to just take him back to the intergalactic association since he has a bounty around 30,000 credit."


    With that I lay the suit on the table and since the auction is in a few days I could probably prepare this time. Probably set up some potions and talismans.


    The air in the apartment feels hotter than usual as I think on my job. This was the first time I was doing something like this, my heart was beating like a drum against my chest.


    I stare into the empty space with a faint hum of the ventilation system filling the space. Thoughts of the auction filled my mind and doubts were being filled.


    "You overthink things, you know that?" Amon spoke as he had finished his steak. With that he sinks back into my body.


    I don¡¯t respond. My eyes are still glued to the empty wall in front of me. This job was important since after this I could finally promote to a C rank Magician.


    I have to get this right.


    But as I stand there I take a deep breath and continue my preparation.

 Deception 2

    The hot air brushes against my face as I looked at the entrance of the building where the auction was to be held.


    The building is ostentatious, the wall are thick and are made of some sort of metal that is unfamiliar to me. Probably something that is native to this Musspell.


    I could feel the the thick layer of mana shimmering around the building, meaning that this place has quite a number of wards. Which should not have been surprising but nonetheless it was the first one I have seen on this planet.


    I glance down at myself, adjusting the cuffs of my suit. The formal attire is uncomfortable, i never could understand how Alex could be comfortable in something like this all the time.


    Blending isn''t really as hard since I don''t stand out as much I do in the normal streets since many other humans are also here although still this place is filled with Formorian or Roxian people.


    The invitation from Zeed is tucked inside my pocket, a pass to get me through the doors without question. Zeed had been able to get me in my actual name still don''t know how but he got it quick although it was a basic pass.


    As I approach the entrance, I spot the guards¡ªtwo massive figures dressed in sleek black uniforms, eyes sharp and watchful. They¡¯re Formorian, like Orvox, and they scan the crowd with a practiced ease. One of them locks eyes with me for a brief moment, and I force myself to remain calm.


    The Formorian guard breaks eye contact and motions me forward with a subtle tilt of his chin. I step up to the entrance, my heart steady but my senses sharp, aware of every lingering glance and whispered conversation around me. Passing through the wards causes me to feel a tingling sense like static electricity.


    I pull the invitation from my pocket and hand it over to the second guard, who scrutinizes it for a moment before waving a glowing device over the parchment. After a tense second, the light flashes green, and she gestures for me to move ahead.


    "Welcome, Mr. Crowley." She spoke as she pointed to me to the right way.


    I nod at the guard as I step through the second ward point and feel it brush pass me like a bunch of Invisible pins hundreds of them. Although a normal person that hadn''t trained as a mage wouldn''t have noticed any half decent one would have.


    It¡¯s clear they¡¯re probing me, subtly searching for something. I don¡¯t flinch, though; my own magical energy simmers beneath the surface, responding instinctively to the sensation, but I keep it suppressed. No need to set off alarms just yet.


    The corridor are similarly pompous looking as the outdoor decor. Filled with paintings of Random mountains and one or two armours. To be honest I was already occupied by the wards since It was novel at how different yet similar it was to the one''s I was familiar with.


    While these wards aren''t hidden as they would be on earth, these ones are more harder to actually to break since unlike the earth ones musspell ones aren''t as fragile.


    Eventually I reached the destination as the hallway opened up into a grand atrium, illuminated by a soft, artificial light that bathed everything in a reddish hue. The room was filled with conversation so much one wouldn''t be able to even hear themselves in it.


    At the center of the atrium, a towering, glass-like structure hovered in place, rotating slowly. Inside it, was beautiful two handed sword easily longer then my arm. It''s blade shined bright filled with a kaleidoscope of colours and it''s handle made of fine leather.


    People were gathered around the the blade Watching with the same fascination as I was, this was one of those swords that would be considered pay to win yet I would totally buy it in any RPG.


    The glimmering sword held my attention for a few moments longer, but I had more pressing matters to deal with. This auction was my best shot at catching him off guard, and I had no intention of wasting it.


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    I scanned the room, subtly keeping an eye out for anything unusual. The crowd was a mix of Musspell''s elite, influential figures from both Formorian and Roxian societies, but no sign of CC yet.


    He would stand out in such an environment since he was a human just like me. To be honest there was much I was unsure about things relating to CC such as the reason for his sudden change and why he arrived here or exactly when since no one changed that quickly unless they were being controlled or something.


    At that moment a sudden tremor rippled through the floor, subtle at first but unmistakable. I froze, my instincts sharpening, and for a brief moment, my mind raced with possibilities. Was this an attack? A malfunction in the wards?


    Since the sheer magnitude was enough to warrant that everyone would be panicking yet from a simple glance around no one paid the shaking any mind. Neither did anything break or show signs of breaking. For moment I thought I was under illusion but a simple check made sure I wasn''t and neither had by defences been tampered with.


    Before I could react further, a calm voice cut through the surrounding noise.


    ¡°You¡¯re not from around here, are you?¡±


    I turned to see a man standing beside me, my heart stopped for a moment, he was someone I easily recognised curly brown hair and sky blue eyes. The man I was hunting. CC or Cedric Cale.


    ¡°Musspell gets these tremors often,¡± he continued, offering me a slight smile as he swirled the drink in his hand. ¡°Nothing to worry about.¡±


    I forced myself to relax, exhaling a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. ¡°interesting,¡± I replied, trying to keep my voice casual. "I did my research but didn''t get such information."


    Cedric chuckled softly yet laughing sounded inhuman. "Happens to all off-worlders their first time. Since the council doesn''t want to decrease the number of tourists and since Muspell is on the literal edge of the area where the I.G.A can use their authority so not much is known about this little corner."


    I raised an eyebrow but kept silent. He was feeding me information, but I knew better than to trust him too quickly. Instead, I stayed focused, every nerve on high alert for any sudden moves.


    Cedric took a sip from his glass and glanced sideways at me, his gaze sharper than before. ¡°You¡¯re a magician, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    The question caught me off guard, but I kept my face impassive. ¡°How did you know?¡±


    He smiled again, this time wider, as if pleased by my response. ¡°You just... look like what one would imagine a magician to be. Like seriously one can''t get more nerdy then you of course not counting glasses."


    I didn¡¯t react outwardly, but internally, I was analyzing every word. There was something off about him this wasn''t how I imagined a normal person turned criminal to act nor did his file have anything mentioning something like this confidence.


    Cedric shifted his attention to the hovering glass-like structure at the center of the atrium, the sword inside shimmering in the reddish light. ¡°Dainsleif,¡± he said, his voice quieter now, almost like hate itself was present. "The cursed sword of legends. They say that Suet used the blade to banish the Abyss itself into another realm."


    I followed his gaze to the blade. It was stunning, the complexity of the formula it had. I wanted to steal it and study it yet the only thing holding me back was the law.


    Cedric took another sip of his drink, his eyes still fixated on Dainsleif. "It¡¯s strange, isn¡¯t it? Something so dangerous that has killed many is being placed here to be admired."


    I shrugged, keeping my tone neutral. ¡°People love dangerous things¡ªmakes them feel alive.¡±


    For the first time Cedric didn''t have a smile on his face and he was filled with venom. "Hmm, true but imagine those who have lost something to something like this how do they feel?"


    "I don''t know." I replied forcing myself to calm even though I was on the edge my heart would burst any moment.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer, ¡°how long have you been here?¡±


    Cedric looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head slightly. ¡°A lot longer the you may think young man."


    Before I could respond, he straightened up, swirling the last of his drink and downing it in one smooth motion.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s been... enlightening.¡± He flashed a smile, though this time there was something colder behind it. ¡°But I have other matters to attend to.¡±


    He turned on his heel and began to walk away, but not before throwing one last glance over his shoulder. ¡°Good luck with the auction, Mr. Crowley. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find something... interesting.¡±


    As Cedric disappeared into the crowd, I exhaled, tension draining from my shoulders. The conversation had felt like a subtle game of cat and mouse, but I still wasn¡¯t sure who was who. He had revealed enough to make me curious, but not enough to act on.


    Before I could think further, a familiar voice broke through my thoughts.


    ¡°So, you met your target, then.¡±


    I turned and almost burst out laughing. Zeed stood there in all his bizarre glory, a humanoid owl wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo. His large, expressive eyes blinked once, and he tilted his head, clearly unbothered by my amusement.


    ¡°Nice suit,¡± I managed to say, biting back a grin.


    Zeed fluffed his feathers and straightened his bowtie with a wing. ¡°I aim to please. Now, about your little encounter with Cedric... anything useful?¡±


    "Nothing I would tell a Mafia boss."


    Zeed''s eyes gleamed mischievously, unfazed by my jab. "You wound me, Mr. Crowley. Information is a currency, and I''d pay well for anything useful." His voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "Besides, I''m sure our mutual interests align in more ways than one."


    I shook my head, more to clear my thoughts than anything else. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know if I come across anything... interesting.¡±


    Zeed hummed approvingly. ¡°Good. Keep that sharp mind of yours alert. The auction is about to start, and this place...¡± He trailed off looking around the room.


    Before I could reply, the lights in the grand atrium dimmed, and the conversations around us quieted down. A stage, previously obscured by the crowd, illuminated at the far end of the room. A figure dressed in a richly embroidered robe stepped into view, raising his hands to call for silence.


    ¡°The auction is about to begin,¡± the announcer said in a voice that carried easily over the room. ¡°Prepare your bids.¡±


    Zeed glanced at me one last time before stepping back into the shadows, leaving me to focus on the stage. I straightened my posture, mind racing as I prepared myself for what was to come. Cedric was still out there, watching, and I couldn''t afford to lose sight of him or my goal.


    As the first item¡ªa rare gem with a swirling, otherworldly glow¡ªwas paraded onto the stage, I felt the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders.


    The real game was about to begin.

 Deception 3

    Slowly everyone sat on the assigned seats that were given to them when they had received the invitation. A quick glance around the room told me that there were around 200 people attending the auction.


    Sitting down it seemed that Zeed would be close around as he sat in the row right in front of me. That made me feel uncomfortable, I was already on edge with him being a criminal but after what happened with Revek and that it was because of a very basic healing artifact made me even more apprehensive with dealing with him.


    The first item was a glowing gemstone, swirling with otherworldly energy. It seemed to draw in the gazes of everyone in the room, but it barely registered with me.


    Although I did give it a quick glance to see if it would be special but other than being able to store Magical energy inside it, the stone wasn''t all that special.


    Then again I doubted I could make a bid for it, I didn''t bring enough money. The announcer droned on, listing the details of the gem¡ª yet I kept my attention on Cedric who was sitting in the front row on the right.


    As the auction continued, items passed by in a blur. Ornate weapons, ancient relics, and rare potions, each one fetching a price I could barely fathom. The bidders, some of whom looked like they had no shortage of wealth or power, raised their paddles with little hesitation. Still, my focus remained sharp, fixed on Cedric.


    He sat comfortably, seemingly uninterested in most of the auction''s offerings as well. Every so often, his gaze would flick to the stage, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his chair. He was waiting for something.


    To be honest as mage I could guess what he might want. Like Dainslif would be the only thing worth to buy since the sheer magnitude of research that could be done on it would probably allow me to reach some sort of enlightenment on my magic.


    Zeed, however, was more animated. He shifted forward in his seat when certain items were displayed, a gleam in his eye as he whispered to the person beside him. Every now and then, he would turn, as if sensing my gaze, but I¡¯d look away just in time.


    The auction carried on, the room growing more electric with each new item that was brought to the stage. My thoughts, however, were divided between thirty different thoughts. Cedrics presence made me more alert than I¡¯d like to admit, and as an Arcanist the sword Dainslif made me wanna study it.


    As another relic was auctioned off, a hush suddenly fell over the room. The lights dimmed slightly, and the announcer paused for dramatic effect. My heart rate picked up, my pulse quickening as I saw the next item wheeled out onto the stage¡ªa large, ornate box covered with symbols, that seemed to be for protection.


    I knew it. Dainslif.


    The announcer¡¯s voice rang out, cutting through the silence like a blade.


    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is no ordinary artifact. This is Dainslif, an ancient weapon rumored to have been forged in the dying embers of a collapsing star.¡±


    My fingers itched to hold it, to examine it, to understand it.


    The announcer¡¯s voice pulled me back into the present.


    ¡°We believe Dainslif¡¯s abilities relate to space and time manipulation, though the specifics remain unclear.¡±


    Space and time? I nearly jolted upright in my seat. The raw implications of that were staggering. If the weapon could indeed alter or even affect those forces, the research potential would be astronomical.


    As I leaned forward, my gaze locked on the intricate symbols engraved on the box containing Dainslif, my mind raced with possibilities. These were for protection probably to only allow access to a select few. Although a bit complex I could hack something like this in 10 minutes to allow me access as well.


    I barely noticed my surroundings anymore. My attention was swallowed by the artifact before me, my thoughts so engrossed in the possibilities that I missed the subtle signs around me¡ªthe air around me shimmering faintly, the wards were breaking down one by one.


    Could I steal it? The thought slid into my mind, unbidden. The sword¡¯s potential¡ªit would be wasted in the hands of anyone else. Cedric, Zeed, even those wealthy bidders¡ªthey wouldn¡¯t know what to do with it. But I did. The urge to take it, to study it, surged, and for a moment, I could almost imagine reaching out, using my magic to snatch it away in a blink, bending space itself to claim it before anyone even knew what happened.


    But then¡­no. The rational part of my mind held me back. There were rules, order, and breaking them here would be reckless. I couldn¡¯t just¡ª


    A sudden stillness in the air snapped me out of my thoughts. It wasn''t just stillness but it was Hot, unnaturally so.


    It had seemed that the natural heat of Musspell was leaking into the building but weren''t the wards supposed to protect against something like this, that was when I noticed that some of the wards had been turned off.


    Panic rippled through the auction hall, though subtle at first, as those sensitive to magic realized something was wrong. The ambient heat was increasing, far more than it should have inside a protected space like this. My eyes flicked to Cedric, he was my target after all.


    Cedric''s fingers had stopped their rhythmic tapping. His eyes were no longer half-lidded in boredom; they were sharp, alert. He didn''t seem all that bothered by what was happening.


    "Ah, fuck." I spoke out loud. I should have expected something like this. Like this was predictable, someone like Cedric would only come here to steal something important.


    I just had to figure out what.


    That was when gun fire started. I immediately used a spell and teleported the small group around me to one of the corners that had a exit.


    Although it took me a few seconds as the wards that were still up did stop my efforts and the headache after the spell was no joke.


    The sudden barrage of gunfire echoed through the auction hall, People screamed and ducked behind their seats, while the wealthy bidders scrambled to flee.


    I barely had time to catch my breath after the teleportation spell. The wards had made it difficult to complete, and the sharp pain that stabbed behind my eyes was a reminder of how much energy I''d just burned through. My group, dazed but safe for the moment, looked at me with a mixture of fear and confusion.


    "Stay here," I ordered, my voice more forceful than I intended. They nodded, too shocked to argue. I scanned the room, my eyes darting between Zeed and Cedric.


    Zeed was on his feat now, his feathery face filled with an expression of excitement and pure joy. Had this fucker betrayed me?


    Cedric on the other hand, remained calm amidst the turmoil, but his posture had shifted. He stood from his seat, slowly and deliberately, as if he had all the time in the world. He glanced in my direction, his gaze cold and unreadable. Then, without hesitation, he began moving toward the stage too, his intent unmistakable.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I cursed under my breath. I had to act, and fast.


    But immediately after a group of people of all varying heights in military attire ran in the hall guns blazing..


    My mind raced. Dainslif was still secured in its box on the stage, but Cedric was heading straight for it, completely unfazed by the chaos.


    To be honest I had begun to think that Cedric was under some kind of mind control no person who had lived a normal life a year prior could be as calm and commanding as the man was.


    I ducked low, using a nearby column as cover while I assessed my options. Zeed, still near the front, was laughing now¡ªa sound that grated on my nerves. His enjoyment of the situation confirmed my suspicions: he had to be in on this. Whether he had planned to double-cross me from the start or simply saw an opportunity in the madness, it didn¡¯t matter. He was a problem now.


    Silently I put a sort of weak compulsion spell that the armed guards wouldn''t notice the civilians near me although it wouldn''t work if the civilians actively brought attention to themselves.


    I took another sigh as the pain in my head intensified. It was like a knife was constantly stabbing me. I was burning magical energy far too inefficiently.


    I took a deep breath, pushing the pain aside, and made my move. Cedric was too close to Dainslif now¡ªthere wasn¡¯t any more time for caution. My legs propelled me forward before I could fully plan, my only goal to intercept him before he could reach the weapon.


    But just as I broke into a sprint, Cedric turned. His eyes locked onto mine, and in that moment, something changed. A weight, far more than just his gaze, crashed down on me.


    It was like the world had tilted, the air itself thickening and warping. My legs faltered, and I stumbled, barely managing to catch myself. Sweat beaded on my forehead, my heart pounding against my chest as if trying to escape.


    Fear¡ªpure, overwhelming fear¡ªwashed over me, drowning out every other thought. Cedric¡¯s gaze seemed to pierce right through me, reaching into my very core. It wasn¡¯t just that he saw me. It felt as though something far darker, far more ancient, was staring back. The abyss itself, cold and infinite, was gazing at me through his eyes.


    I froze. My body refused to move. My lungs felt as if they were being crushed under an immense pressure, and each breath was shallow, ragged. My vision blurred, and for a brief, terrible moment, I wasn¡¯t sure if I was about to pass out or if something far worse was about to happen.


    Cedric¡¯s expression hadn¡¯t changed, but there was something in his eyes now¡ªan intensity, a force that stripped away any pretense of humanity. Whatever power he had gained in the last year, it wasn¡¯t just strength. It was something unnatural, something wrong.


    I tried to break free from the grip of his gaze, but my body was unresponsive. My limbs trembled, and my knees buckled as if I were a puppet whose strings had been cut. I collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, my heart racing out of control.


    It felt Insignificant, like a small ant Infront of an unending abyss. A void that erased everything in its path.


    A sharp kick to my stomach ripped me out of the frozen state I was in, pain exploding across my torso as I doubled over, gasping. Before I could even gather my breath, a pair of strong hands grabbed me by the collar, yanking me upright. My vision swam as I tried to focus, but the next thing I knew, I was being dragged across the auction hall floor, my feet barely touching the ground.


    My body was still recovering from the shock of Cedric¡¯s gaze, and the pain in my head made it difficult to think straight. I struggled weakly against the guard¡¯s grip, but it was useless. He was dragging me toward Cedric.


    Cedric didn¡¯t even look at me at first. His attention was still fixed on Dainslif, the artifact glowing faintly in its protected box on the stage. The guard shoved me roughly to my knees in front of him, and I winced as my body hit the hard floor.


    Then Cedric spoke, his voice cold and detached, as if I were nothing more than an afterthought.


    ¡°Well, well, Saturn Crowley,¡± he said without turning to face me. ¡°A bounty hunter, here for me? Well to be honest I expected more."


    I blinked, trying to clear the fog in my mind. He knew who I was¡ªno surprise there, it was his voice he spoke nothing like the recording I had heard of Cedric.


    "You see a mutual friend told me all about you." He continued.


    "Mutual friend?" I asked even though I had already figured out an answer.


    Cedric finally turned his head, glancing at me with that same unnerving calm. His eyes were cold, empty of the warmth they once might have held.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he continued, almost casually, ¡°Zeed, of course. It seems he wasn¡¯t entirely truthful with you, was he?¡± His gaze flickered to where Zeed had been moments ago, but the bird-faced bastard had vanished, probably slinking away in the chaos. ¡°I learned quite a bit about you. A hunter of men. Skilled in tracking your targets, no matter where they hide.¡±


    He stepped closer, his presence bearing down on me again, though not as overwhelming as before. ¡°But, it seems you were reckless in your borderline childish attempt really."


    Cedric''s hand reached out toward Dainslif, and I could only watch as he forced the box open. The symbols meant for protection flared brightly, burning the flesh of his fingers, but Cedric didn¡¯t flinch. His hand, now glowing with raw heat and power, closed around the hilt of the sword, and I saw smoke rising from his charred skin. He should have been screaming in agony, but he remained eerily calm, as if the pain didn¡¯t register.


    As the weapon wasn''t in the box anymore, I finally felt the sheer power of the sword. The amount of magical energy it was radiating was equal to a high class weapon.


    Now that was scary, like In my life I had seen only one such weapon and that was in the academy.


    Cedric raised the sword high, his voice car to calm for a man whose hand was burning. "While I have loved this talk, I am afraid that I am far too busy."


    He gripped the sword with both hands, the heat intensifying, and I could see his skin blistering under the force of whatever magic he was channeling. Yet he remained unfazed, as though the pain was beneath him.


    My heart pounded in my chest as Cedric swung Dainslif, the very seemed to warp under its power, and I braced myself for what was about to happen. His movements were fluid, graceful even, but the weight of what he wielded was undeniable.


    Before the blade could meet its mark, though, something changed. An overwhelming presence descended upon the room, a force that was almost suffocating in its intensity. It wasn¡¯t like the fear I had felt from Cedric¡¯s gaze earlier¡ªthis was different. If Cedric was an unending abyss then this presence was filled with life, energy and fire.


    Cedric faltered, his swing interrupted as he leapt back instinctively. His calm fa?ade wavered for the first time. The guard holding me wasn¡¯t so lucky. The force of Cedric¡¯s initial swing collided with him, sending the man flying across the room, crashing into a wall with a sickening thud. His lifeless body slumped to the ground, but I barely had time to process it.


    I staggered to my feet, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of what was happening. That presence¡ªit felt familiar like I had felt it before.


    Cedric straightened, his grip on Dainslif tightening. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, searching for the source of the presence that had just challenged him.


    "I know you''re here, Gringol. Come out and I shall finish what we started all those years ago." Screamed Cedric for the first time it was filled with emotion.


    "Sorry, my God has no time for thugs such as you." A very familiar voice spoke as a man of about 4 meters tall entered the room. He wore a weird Priest-like outfit that was yellow.


    It was someone I recognised easily, it was Orvox. He held no weapons yet the very air around him burnt like it was on fire. With him was another person I recognised Ember.


    She was also in her armour, the armour showed art of a horned individual. That felt familiar but at the moment it wasn''t all that special to me.


    Cedric¡¯s eyes narrowed, a flash of disappointment evident before his lips curled into a sneer. "So it¡¯s not Gringol, but one of his lackeys. How utterly predictable." He looked Orvox up and down, his grip tightening on Dainslif. "No matter. I¡¯ll send your corpse as a message to your God, just the same."


    Orvox chuckled, his deep voice reverberating through the hall. "Bold words for someone who can barely hold his own weapon without burning alive. I¡¯ll give you credit you seem to have the attention of my god however you aren''t worth his time."


    Cedric¡¯s sneer twisted into something darker, his anger flaring like the heat still radiating from Dainslif. "I don¡¯t need your approval, priest. I¡¯ll end you here and now."


    Before the tension could snap, a familiar hand grabbed my arm, pulling me upright. I turned to see Ember, her gaze sharp but filled with concern as she looked me over.


    ¡°You alright?¡± she asked, her voice low but steady, the undercurrent of urgency unmistakable.


    I nodded, though my head still pounded and my limbs felt like lead. "Although if you can get some headache medication that would be great."


    Ember glanced toward the towering figure of Orvox, then back to me. Her lips quirked in a brief smile. "Okay."


    I cast a glance toward Orvox, who stood confidently between us and Cedric, his mere presence radiating enough heat to make the air shimmer. "Tell your friend to cool off a bit though, it¡¯s hot enough here already."


    She smirked. "I''ll pass the message."


    I shifted my attention back to Cedric, who was eyeing Orvox with murderous intent. The tension between them was palpable, but it was clear Cedric wasn¡¯t going to make the first move¡ªhe was waiting for an opening, biding his time.


    ¡°By the way,¡± I said, turning back to Ember with a teasing grin, ¡°you can let Orvox know I¡¯m flattered, but I don¡¯t swing that way. He can stalk someone else.¡±


    Ember snorted, clearly suppressing a laugh. "I¡¯ll be sure to tell him. But don¡¯t worry, Crowley."


    She really seemed to pause at my last name. So she heard my real name then, I did wonder how long they had been here. Guess that answers my question.


    Cedric stood still for a moment, his expression darkening as the distant wail of sirens cut through the chaos of the auction hall. His eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted into an irritated snarl.


    ¡°Tch¡­ Seems the forces are arriving sooner than expected.¡± His voice was low, almost disappointed, but he didn¡¯t waste time. With a casual flick of his wrist, he raised Dainslif, the air around him warping under the sword¡¯s influence.


    I felt it¡ªa surge of raw, dangerous energy building at the tip of the blade. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what was about to happen.


    He¡¯s going to attack.


    Without thinking, I grabbed Ember and Orvox by the arms, channeling the last bit of magical energy I had left. The wards still resisted my efforts, but I fought through the pain. There was no time to hesitate.


    The instant I activated the teleportation spell, I felt the crushing weight of the energy Cedric had released. We vanished from the spot just in time.


    When we reappeared, it was on the other side of the hall, near an emergency exit. My head pounded, the teleportation spell having taken its toll, but I forced myself to stay conscious. Gasping for air, I glanced back to where we had stood moments ago.


    A gash, impossibly deep, cleaved the ground in two where we had just been. The sheer power of the attack made my stomach lurch. If I hadn¡¯t acted¡­ we¡¯d all be dead.


    Cedric¡¯s attack had carved a path of destruction straight through the auction hall, but now, he and his guards were nowhere to be seen. The stage was empty, and the eerie silence that followed was unnerving.


    ¡°Dammit¡­¡± I muttered under my breath, trying to regain my composure.


    Orvox¡¯s voice rumbled beside me, calm but tinged with amusement. ¡°Nice save, Crowley.¡±


    Ember, though clearly shaken, was quick to refocus. ¡°They¡¯re gone,¡± she said, her eyes scanning the room. ¡°He¡¯s not sticking around to face the authorities.¡±


    I cursed again. Cedric had made his move and vanished before I could act. The sword¡ªDainslif¡ªwas gone too. He¡¯d gotten what he wanted, and we were left standing in the aftermath.


    ¡°We need to follow him,¡± I said, pushing myself upright. But even as I spoke, I could feel my energy draining. My vision blurred for a moment, the strain of using so much magic catching up to me.


    Orvox put a steadying hand on my shoulder. ¡°Not like this. You¡¯re spent.¡±


    ¡°Saturn¡¯s right,¡± Ember added, her tone more urgent. ¡°We need to regroup. If Cedric has Dainslif, things are about to get


    a lot worse.¡±


    I nodded reluctantly, frustration building in my chest. Cedric had slipped through my fingers, and worse¡ªhe had one of the most powerful artifacts I¡¯d ever seen.


    ¡°i will get him.¡± I muttered

 The Plan

    Fear.


    It was a sobering feeling that made you question what you were doing. I could still feel the unending abyss, the sheer insignificance of my being.


    What was the quote? If you gaze into the abyss the abyss will gaze back into you. Right I just got what that feels like.


    Absolutely demoralising.


    "Sit still," a voice called out to me waking me from my thoughts. "You keep shaking this will take longer."


    It was the Formorian man, his scarred face twisting with impatience. His yellow coat made him look almost official, though I doubted he was part of the city¡¯s law enforcement.


    Probably from a nearby medical centre.


    I took a breath and tried to comply, but even sitting still was a challenge. My body trembled, slight but noticeable. I wasn¡¯t injured, though¡ªI¡¯d checked. Scanning the body was a basic spell for an Arcanist, and I¡¯d been doing that since I was a novice. No, this wasn¡¯t about injuries.


    They were looking for something else. The inside man, maybe. The one who helped orchestrate the attack on the auction.


    It was futile, though. They wouldn¡¯t find what they were looking for. Since the man they wanted, Cedric, was probably in a different city by now.


    I almost chuckled to myself, but the thought of Cedric was quickly overshadowed by something even more annoying¡ªmy confiscated gear. All my stuff, taken by law enforcement. The thought made my stomach twist in frustration. It was going to be a nightmare getting it all back, assuming they didn¡¯t try to pin something on me in the meantime. I¡¯d have to argue my case, file claims, go through a mountain of paperwork¡­ It would take forever.


    And the materials. That was the real headache. The talismans I made were no simple trinkets. The components I used were rare, and worse, expensive. Tracking them down had taken months.


    I could already picture some clueless officer stuffing them into a plastic bag like they were nothing.


    "All clear. You can go."


    The Formorian doctor finally let me up, waving me off like a bad memory. I stretched my legs, numb from sitting still for too long, and stepped out of the tent into the scorching streets of Logi.


    It was chaos. Vehicles¡ªif you could call them that¡ªbuzzed and hovered around the city square, their shapes jagged and metallic, like something cobbled together from a dozen failed prototypes. Engines hissed and thrummed, hot air rippling as if the machines were alive, just barely contained in their frames. Logi was as far from Earth as you could get, but its heat could give a desert city a run for its money.


    Law enforcement officers were scattered around, dressed in yellow and gray uniforms, taking notes and speaking with guests from the auction.


    I scanned the scene, looking for someone in charge. I needed to get my gear back, and fast. Without it, I was as good as a sitting duck.


    Before I could make any progress, a familiar voice cut through the noise. ¡°Hey! Catch!¡±


    I turned, startled, just in time to see a bag flying towards me. Instinct kicked in, and I snatched it out of the air.


    It was my bag. My stuff.


    I looked up to see Orvox, His towering frame and weathered face were unmistakable, but there was a glint in his eyes.


    "Figured you''d be needing that," he said, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.


    I opened the bag to make sure everything was still inside. The talismans, the vials, the arcane tools. All there, somehow untouched by the chaos of the auction. Relief flooded through me.


    "You¡¯ve no idea how much of a lifesaver this is," I muttered, zipping the bag shut. "How did you¡ª?"


    Orvox shrugged, his eyes flicking back to the bustling streets. "Saw it before the officers took it. Figured I''d do you a favor."


    "Thanks I guess." I replied rubbing the back of my head in confusion.


    Orvox nudged me on the shoulder, tilting his head toward a narrow alley. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    I clutched my bag tighter, taking one last look at the chaotic scene outside before trailing behind him. I was a bit skeptical since I wasn''t really sure that I could trust someone like Orvox right now since I hadn''t known him longer than 10 days.


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    However if I wanted to get anywhere with the case of credric then maybe the church could help me.


    Soon, we arrived at a bar tucked between two tall buildings, its sign half-lit, grime coating the windows.


    Orvox pushed the door open, and the cool, dimly lit interior was a welcome change from the scorching heat outside. I spotted her immediately¡ªsitting in the far corner of the bar, her armor catching the dim light just enough to highlight the familiar insignia. Ember.


    It took me a moment since, the last time I saw her was an hour ago so it was a bit disorienting but I shook my head and calmed myself.


    However something about Ember always felt off. It wasn¡¯t her combat skill or her dedication¡ªit was something deeper. Like I wasn¡¯t seeing the whole picture. It annoyed me like an annoying bee that I couldn''t swat away.


    ¡°Sit,¡± Orvox grumbled, gesturing to the booth across from Ember.


    I slid into the seat, my bag beside me, while Orvox settled next to her. The bartender barely acknowledged us, and no one else seemed interested in what we were up to. A perfect place for quiet conversation.


    Orvox waved down the server and ordered a drink. ¡°Whiskey,¡± he muttered, then looked at me. ¡°You?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t drink,¡± I replied, shaking my head.


    Orvox didn¡¯t seem surprised. He just shrugged, leaning back as an awkward silence hung between us. I shifted, the tension gnawing at me. What were they doing together?


    They weren''t from the same organisation from what I knew.


    ¡°So¡­ what are you two doing together? Didn¡¯t think a knight and a priest would be working side by side these days.¡±


    Orvox raised an eyebrow. ¡°Times change. The Church of Gringol¡¯s been expanding its reach. You¡¯d be surprised what we¡¯ve got our hands in these days.¡±


    That made me more uneasy. "Yeah, but the Knights of Reed?" I glanced at Ember. Her golden eyes met mine, but her face was unreadable. "I thought your lot was... independent."


    Ember straightened, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. ¡°We are. But justice doesn¡¯t happen in a vacuum, Saturn. Sometimes you need alliances.¡± Her expression turned serious, pride clear in her voice. ¡°I¡¯m a Knight of Reed. We enforce justice and benevolence because we believe in it. Not because we¡¯re told to, but because we choose to.¡±


    The Knights of Reed¡ªI¡¯d heard the stories. They were a voluntary group, traveling the cosmos, fighting for justice where others wouldn¡¯t. Their leader, Reed, was more of a myth than a real figure¡ªno one knew if Reed even existed, but that didn¡¯t stop the Knights from gaining a reputation for doing the impossible.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ with them,¡± I muttered, trying to wrap my head around it. ¡°What¡¯s a Knight of Reed doing all the way out here on Musspell?¡±


    Ember¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver. ¡°The same thing you¡¯re doing, Crowley. We wish to stop the plans of Cedric."


    I frowned, leaning forward in my seat. ¡°So what¡¯s all this got to do with me?¡± I asked, gesturing vaguely between them. There had to be a reason they dragged me out here, right?


    Ember¡¯s eyes flicked to Orvox before settling back on me. Her smile was almost dismissive. ¡°Nothing, really,¡± she said, shrugging. ¡°You¡¯re not important enough for any of this. But since you¡¯re already tangled in the mess, might as well clean it up.¡±


    The words stung. She didn¡¯t even try to sugarcoat it¡ªjust straight to the point. I wasn¡¯t important. I clenched my fists under the table, trying to keep my composure. ¡°Clean it up?¡± I repeated, my voice tighter than I wanted it to be.


    Ember leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. ¡°You¡¯re reckless, Crowley. You¡¯ve been reckless from the start. What happened with Revek¡ª"


    I stiffened at the name. I didn¡¯t want to think about it, but hearing his name threw me off balance. Ember wasn¡¯t letting it go.


    "He died because of you," she continued, her voice colder now. "You rushed in without thinking, and now Revek¡¯s gone."


    I felt my jaw tighten. My heartbeat picked up, and I could feel the frustration bubbling up inside me. ¡°That wasn¡¯t my fault,¡± I shot back, though even I could hear the defensiveness in my voice. "I didn¡¯t mean for¡ª"


    But something else caught my attention, mid-sentence. A faint buzz, a pressure against my mind that felt¡­ off. It was subtle, but I¡¯d been around enough magic to recognize when someone was trying to mess with me. Instinctively, I activated my mental defenses, snapping them into place with a familiar spell. The pressure eased off, but the realization hit me hard.


    I turned sharply, glaring at Orvox. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I growled, narrowing my eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t mess with my mind.¡±


    Orvox didn¡¯t flinch, but he raised his hands slightly in mock surrender. ¡°Calm down, Crowley. It¡¯s just a small spell to ease your tension.¡±


    ¡°Ease my tension?¡± I snapped, barely holding back my anger. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that. I know a mind-calming spell when I feel one. Don¡¯t ever try that again.¡±


    I could see Orvox¡¯s magic now that I was actively defending against it¡ªcalming spells, designed to soothe and lower aggression. I analyzed the spell quickly. It was well-crafted, subtle enough to work on most people without them even noticing. But any self respecting Arcanist can defend against it.


    Orvox¡¯s lips curled into a wry smile. ¡°You¡¯re sharper than I gave you credit for,¡± he said, but there was no apology in his tone. "Just trying to help. No need to get all paranoid.¡±


    I took a breath, trying to calm myself without his help. My mind was my own, and no one¡ªnot even Orvox¡ªwas going to take that from me.


    The tension and irritation had nearly caused me to walk away, but I couldn¡¯t deny it¡ªtheir knowledge, especially Orvox''s ties to the Church and Ember''s background with the Knights, might be invaluable.


    Musspell wasn¡¯t a place i fully understood, and if Cedric was part of a larger scheme, I would need allies. As uneasy as it felt, they were my best shot.


    ¡°Alright,¡± i finally said, exhaling sharply and keeping my voice level. ¡°I can work with you. But if we''re going to do this, I need something more than a promise. Trust goes both ways.¡±


    Orvox raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what, exactly, do you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°A geas,¡± I replied firmly. "It''s an oath, a contract, an agreement that enforces trust in the harshest way possible. Both of you should know of it?"


    ¡°If one of us breaks the geas,¡± I continued, ¡°it will take something that you are giving up here but it will be equal value to others."


    ¡°What do you propose, then?¡± Orvox asked, his expression unreadable but his voice carrying an edge of curiosity.


    ¡°For me,¡± I said, my voice was steady, though the words felt like I was sealing my own fate, ¡°If I break this agreement, I¡¯ll lose the ability to step forth in the rank of Advanced mage."


    Orvox folded his arms, his gaze sharp. After a moment, he spoke. ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll put forth my ability to have children."


    Ember nodded slowly, considering her own stake. "I will stake half of my blessing from Reed." she said finally.


    As Orvox considered my proposal, his gaze hardened. ¡°Alright, but tell me¡ªhow exactly are we supposed to sign this agreement here?¡±


    I felt a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. I reached into my bag, digging out an old crayon, worn down but functional. Not the fanciest magical tool, but it would do the job.


    ¡°Right here,¡± I replied, laying the crayon on the table. I began drawing a crude circle, adding intricate symbols with practiced ease. Magic hummed faintly under my fingers as I muttered an incantation, focusing the energy into the circle until it pulsed with a faint glow. ¡°This will bind us, for as long as each of us keeps our word. None can break it without consequence.¡±


    Orvox and Ember leaned in, watching intently as I finished the symbols. Orvox¡¯s expression was unreadable, and Ember¡¯s face remained stoic. I could see them both processing the gravity of what I was proposing. It was true¡ªthis spell wouldn¡¯t be easy to break. I hadn¡¯t lied about that, but I had left out a small detail: it was possible. Difficult, complex, and time-consuming, but possible. I just wasn¡¯t about to tell them that.


    Once I was finished, I pressed my hand to the center of the circle, letting the spell seal us into the contract. A faint shimmer rose from the symbols before sinking into the table, and the circle faded, leaving only a faint outline behind.


    The geas was complete.


    Orvox leaned back, a satisfied expression on his face. ¡°We¡¯ll meet tomorrow at your place, then. We¡¯ll iron out the details and go over any leads on Cedric.¡±


    Ember gave a nod, her gaze distant. ¡°Until tomorrow.¡±


    Without another word, they stood and left, leaving me alone in the dimly lit bar. I watched them go, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion wash over me. This was a risky alliance, and I knew it, but if Cedric was as big a threat as they made him out to be, I needed every advantage I could get.


    I took a slow, measured sip of water, letting my mind drift as the tension from the day finally began to fade. My fingers traced the faint outline of the contract on the table, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of it all¡ªthe choices I¡¯d made, the price I¡¯d agreed to pay.


    If only I could turn back time. How much easier things would be.


    But that was a fool¡¯s dream. I pushed the thought aside, finishing my water in silence.

 The Plan 2

    The morning sun hadn¡¯t fully crested over the horizon when a sharp knock rattled my apartment door. The relentless tapping thudded in my skull, dragging me from the last threads of sleep. I groaned, rolling over and pulling the thick blanket over my head, willing the noise away. But it came again¡ªpersistent and insistent.


    "Fine, fine," I muttered, my voice rough with fatigue. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, squinting at the dimly lit room. From the window the sun was barely in the sky but to be honest the brightness of the large ball of fire easily equaled the light of earth''s sun even this early.


    The knocking continued, punctuated by a muffled voice. ¡°Crowly! Open up, we don¡¯t have all day.¡± It was Ember.


    I still didn''t know her name. Which bugged me off. Since she already knew mine but I didn''t know her''s which made me feel she had an advantage on me.


    Slowly I shuffled out of bed, feet dragging across the cold floor as I made my way to the door. My hair was a disheveled mess, and I was still in the clothes I¡¯d passed out in the suit. I hated them, too restrictive.


    I pulled the door open, and there they were. Orvox looks as composed as ever, while Ember leaned against the doorframe, her face had a slight scar on the neck.


    Now that she wasn''t wearing any armour I could say that her arms were rough. Signaling that she was a very physical type of person.


    Her dress sense wasn''t really one I could call native to Musspell or Earth yet they were familiar I just couldn''t remember right now.


    ¡°You look like death,¡± Orvox said, a smirk tugging at his lips.


    ¡°Good morning to you too,¡± I shot back, stepping aside to let them in. They moved past me without another word, Ember¡¯s boots echoing against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the small dining table that doubled as my workspace.


    I shut the door and took a deep breath. This was it¡ªthe start of whatever plan they had in mind. I hoped it was worth the sleep deprivation.


    ¡°Coffee?¡± I offered, already heading toward the kitchen nook. I needed something to jolt me awake, and I¡¯d bet my last talisman that they¡¯d been up for hours.


    Orvox nodded curtly, eyes scanning the scattered maps and notes that littered the table from my late-night brainstorming session. Ember just grunted in what I assumed was an affirmative. I set the kettle on the stove and leaned against the counter, arms crossed.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, trying to sound more awake than I felt, ¡°what¡¯s the plan? You show up at the crack of dawn, so I assume you¡¯ve got something important.¡±


    Orvox glanced up from the notes, his face impassive. ¡°The mafia boss who helped you last month? He¡¯s gone. Vanished without a trace.¡±


    I didn¡¯t react immediately, just let the words hang in the air as I pushed away the building wave of fatigue. It wasn¡¯t unexpected. The moment the deal had soured, and the boss decided to sell me out, I knew his days were numbered.


    ¡°Not surprised?¡± Ember tilted her head, the roughened skin around her eyes narrowing as she studied me. Her tone carried a note of curiosity, but I could tell she was gauging my reaction.


    I exhaled, eyes fixed on the dark liquid boiling in the kettle. ¡°No. When you betray people who play dirtier than you, disappearing isn¡¯t just an option¡ªit¡¯s the inevitable conclusion.¡±


    Orvox placed a hand on the table, leaning forward slightly. ¡°And yet, this disappearance isn¡¯t quite so simple. Since the place we visited last time was littered with bodies of his lackeys."


    I nodded slowly, processing Orvox¡¯s words. The idea of a crime scene littered with corpses didn¡¯t shock me anymore. It was just part of Musspell¡¯s brutal landscape, a place where power shifted with the tides of blood and betrayal.


    Orvox reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask, unscrewing the cap and pouring its contents into the coffee I¡¯d just handed him. I raised an eyebrow as he casually dropped an ice cube into the dark, steaming liquid. The cold hissed as it met the heat, a strange quirk I hadn¡¯t expected from the stoic priest.


    ¡°Since we¡¯re working together, I suppose it¡¯s about time we discussed our capabilities,¡± I said, breaking the tense silence. My words were deliberate, my gaze shifting between Orvox and Ember. This wasn¡¯t just about survival anymore; it was about knowing what cards we each had to play. ¡°I¡¯ll start. I¡¯m an Apprentice-level Arcanist. The beginner¡¯s rank for any mage worth their salt.¡±


    Ember¡¯s eyebrows shot up, but she said nothing, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair. The dim light caught the scar on her neck, making it appear like a jagged mark of some forgotten battle.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to manifest my Soul yet,¡± I continued, my tone careful. Admitting this weakness left a bitter taste, but there was no point hiding it. ¡°Failed to do so during my exams and haven¡¯t had any success since.¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Orvox placed his mug down, eyes settling on me with a look that was part sympathy, part calculation. ¡°A Soul manifestation is no small feat,¡± he said, his deep voice carrying the gravity of his priestly training. ¡°But knowledge alone can carry you far.¡± He straightened, his robes shifting around him like shadowy waves. ¡°As for me, I¡¯m a priest of Gringol. I¡¯ve received His boon.¡±


    A faint tremor ran down my spine. Divine blessings were rare and powerful, bestowed only on those with unwavering dedication to their deity. I¡¯d read once that while arcane magic allowed for versatility, a divine blessing could reshape reality in ways even seasoned Arcanists envied.


    ¡°A divine blessing,¡± I echoed, letting the words linger in the room. Ember¡¯s gaze sharpened as she studied my reaction, a flicker of recognition crossing her features.


    ¡°Your turn, Ember,¡± I said, tilting my head toward her. ¡°Since we¡¯re laying our cards on the table, I¡¯d say it¡¯s fair you share as well.¡±


    She shifted, arms unfolding as she placed her palms flat on the table. The strength in them was clear, veins like cords beneath scarred skin. ¡°I¡¯m a Knight of Reed. You should already know that I am faster than most cars and stronger than most people."


    A thick silence settled over the room, the only sound the faint bubbling of the kettle as it reached a low boil. Ember''s words hung in the air like an unspoken challenge, their weight pressing down on the small space. Orvox sipped his spiked coffee with an unreadable expression, but his eyes shifted to me, waiting to see what I¡¯d do next.


    I leaned back against the counter, my arms still crossed, feeling the prickling irritation rise again. The fatigue did nothing to blunt the edge of my frustration; it only sharpened it, fueling the need to tear through the ambiguity that had wrapped itself around this uneasy partnership.


    I clenched my jaw and took a deep breath before speaking. ¡°Alright, this has been bugging me for too long,¡± I said, my voice breaking the silence like a crack of thunder. My eyes found Ember¡¯s, sharp and unyielding. ¡°We¡¯re all sharing here, laying it out so we know what we¡¯re working with. So, I think it¡¯s only fair that I know your name. You know mine, and I¡¯m tired of dancing around that.¡±


    Ember¡¯s gaze hardened, the faintest twitch in her jawline giving away her initial reaction. For a second, the air seemed to grow colder, as if the room itself braced for impact. Orvox¡¯s eyes flicked between us, a curious glint in their depths, but he didn¡¯t intervene. He wouldn¡¯t, since he was a neutral person.


    Silence stretched before Ember¡¯s posture shifted. She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, palms still pressed against the table, her lips turned upwards into a mocking smile.


    ¡°Names are powerful,¡± she said, her voice low but clear, carrying an edge that felt as sharp as the blades she surely wielded. ¡°They can give others leverage, especially to people like you even if you are an arguably bad Arcanist."


    I didn¡¯t flinch, matching her stare with my own. ¡°And yet, here we are, you already know mine yet I don''t know yours so you already have leverage over me. I can''t trust someone like you then."


    Ember¡¯s eyes narrowed, the smirk slipping as seriousness replaced it. She tilted her head slightly, studying me as if weighing something unseen. Finally, she pushed off the table and straightened, a hand brushing back a loose strand of red hair.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said, the word dropping like a stone in water. ¡°You want to know? It¡¯s Antras. Ember is my title, not my name. Call me Antras if it¡¯ll help you sleep at night, Crowley.¡±


    The tension in the room eased slightly, but only just. The truth sat between us, raw and exposed. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Orvox¡¯s lips curled into a half-smile, as though amused by the exchange.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, the edge in my voice softening but not disappearing entirely. I pushed away from the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee, the bitter aroma already working to lift the haze of fatigue.


    Ember¡ªno, Antras¡ªwatched me, her expression unreadable now, as though weighing whether or not she¡¯d made the right choice.


    Orvox¡¯s half-smile widened as he tilted his head, a note of genuine amusement playing in his usually stoic eyes. ¡°Not going to ask me my true name, Crowley? Seems like fair play if we¡¯re being transparent.¡±


    I met his gaze, feeling the heat of the coffee cup seeping into my palm. The bitter liquid sloshed as I took a sip, savoring its sharpness. ¡°No need,¡± I replied evenly, letting the quiet confidence of my words hang between us. ¡°You told the truth.¡±


    Orvox raised an eyebrow, intrigue lighting his dark eyes. ¡°And how, pray tell, do you know that?¡±


    I shrugged, a touch more nonchalant than I felt. ¡°I have my ways.¡±


    The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken meaning, but Orvox¡¯s amusement deepened, turning into a low chuckle that resonated in the quiet room. Antras glanced between us, eyes narrowing slightly, her gaze searching my face for any sign of deception. I kept my expression neutral, meeting her scrutiny without flinching.


    Inwardly, I considered the subtle flicker of power I had felt earlier when Orvox spoke. The Soul Sight was an asset every Arcanist possessed. It allowed me to see the outer layer of someone¡¯s soul¡ªa luminous, shifting veil that mirrored their emotions. While it didn¡¯t grant the ability to read thoughts or pierce to the core of a person, it was enough to tell when someone was lying or when their words held true conviction. Orvox¡¯s soul had been steady, a rippling calm that betrayed no deceit.


    Antras, on the other hand, were harder to read. Her soul was really weird, a Soul always looked like one paint or colour or at least looked like a being but her soul was just writhing mass of colours. But in that moment when she revealed her true name, the storm had stilled, if only briefly, confirming her sincerity.


    I leaned back against the kitchen counter, the caffeine finally coursing through my veins, chasing away the fog of exhaustion. I set my mug down, meeting Orvox¡¯s unwavering gaze before glancing at Antras. They were watching me, waiting for more. It was time to lay out why I had a personal stake in this tangled mess.


    ¡°I¡¯m here because of Cedric,¡± I began, my voice steadying as the weight of my own words sank in. ¡°He was supposed to be an easy mark, just another small-time trafficker who bit off more than he could chew. The bounty on him was decent, nothing that would make waves but enough to give my career a much-needed jump start to it."


    Orvox¡¯s eyes shifted, that calculating glint I was growing familiar with sharpening. ¡°And you didn¡¯t know about his recent... acquisitions?¡± he asked, a note of curiosity threading through his deep voice.


    I shook my head. ¡°Not until recently, no. From what I had researched about him, he isn''t someone that could have accomplished this much with his own mediocre skills that he had. Other then that not much is actually known about him."


    Orvox¡¯s lips tightened into a thin smile, his eyes drifting to the window, where the morning light had started to seep into the room. ¡°The Church heard the same whispers,¡± he said. ¡°Cedric was beneath our notice, just another rat scuttling in the shadows. But things changed when he stole a relic of considerable power."


    "To be honest I don''t even know where to begin really, this is literally my first job with this much stakes." I said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve barely been on Musspell for ten days,¡± I admitted, a note of frustration bleeding into my voice. The room seemed to close in on me as I glanced around, seeking some anchor in this whirlwind. ¡°Finding reliable information on this place has been impossible. Half the people I asked didn¡¯t trust an outsider, and the other half just whispered cryptic nonsense. I didn¡¯t even know about the quakes or this Festival


    Orvox leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening as he crossed his arms. ¡°Musspell isn¡¯t an easy place for newcomers, Crowley. To be honest most citizens don''t really have a good relationship with otherworlders and our history doesn''t show it too. So yeah I can believe that."


    He glanced at Antras, who remained silent, the set of her jaw unchanging as she listened. Then he began.


    ¡°The Festival of Gringol is very important festival for the people that happens every year for us. It¡¯s the one time in the year when the three major powers¡ªthe Church of Gringol, the King¡¯s Court, and the Outer Guards¡ªcome together under a fragile truce. For a month, people celebrate and sing praises to our God."


    I frowned, trying to piece together how this connected to the recent upheaval. ¡°And the quakes?¡± I asked.


    Orvox¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°They are natural and have been here since anyone can remember."


    Antras shifted, the leather of her coat creaking as she adjusted her stance. ¡°And with the Festival so close, anyone in the position of power is worried that this might affect the relationship between the three powers leading to war in what is already very shaky relationships at best."


    ¡°So, what does he want? Cedric I mean he shouldn''t really have anything to do with this place right?" I asked.


    "Now that is the question and what we are here to discuss." Orvox replies.

 The plan 3

    The coffee tasted bitter as the words left Orvox''s mouth. If these people weren''t here I would have probably started cursing to god on why he made something that was supposed to be simple into more complicated.


    ¡°So, now that has been done do you have any idea on what our target is going to appear next?" I said and instantly cringed at the word target, why was I acting like some sort of spy?


    Orvox nodded slowly, setting his coffee cup down with a soft clink. ¡°Yes. From what the higher ups suspect it seems the man is after the 4 famous artifacts of Gringol."


    I leaned back in my chair, swirling the dregs of my coffee and watching the bitter liquid coat the sides of the mug. Artifacts. Of course. It was always about some holy relics or mystical trinkets with these fanatics.


    To be honest what bugged me even now was that I couldn''t figure out the reason for why Cedric was going through all this. If he had wanted to bring his daughter and wife back there were much easier ways than this.


    "About the artifacts are all like Dainslif related to Spatial manipulation or do they have different abilities." Antreas asked her cup empty as she had drunken the bitter coffee in a single sip not showing any difference to her expression.


    Orvox gave Antreas a sidelong glance, his expression as calm as ever, though I could see a hint of discomfort in his eyes. He wasn¡¯t too fond of her presence here, but hadn''t he been the one to invite her?


    "Yes, well," he began, choosing his words carefully, "the artifacts in question are not as straightforward as Dainslif, which, as you noted, deals with spatial manipulation. The remaining three are far more ambiguous in their abilities¡ªdeliberately so, I''d imagine."


    Antreas leaned forward slightly, her interest piqued despite her stoic demeanor. ¡°So, they¡¯re intentionally kept under wraps,¡± she stated rather than asked.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Orvox confirmed, nodding. ¡°The King holds the Armor of Solitude, an impenetrable suit said to protect against any form of attack. It¡¯s rumored to be indestructible, although no one outside the royal circles has seen it in use.¡±


    I immediately began jotting everything down into my tablet. This undoubtedly comes in handy at some point.


    Orvox¡¯s gaze flickered over to me before continuing, ¡°The Church possesses the Ring of Enkindling. Its exact power is shrouded in mystery, but it is said to grant its wearer a form of divine insight or perhaps a blessing of sorts. Again, conjecture at best¡ªno one outside the higher up truly knows.¡±


    ¡°And the last one?¡± I prompted.


    ¡°The City Guard controls the Book of binding,¡± Orvox said, almost with a sigh. ¡°A tome believed to possess the ability to seal or bind anything, whether it be physical entities or concepts themselves. A rather terrifying weapon, if the rumors hold any truth.¡±


    Orvox leaned back, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup absentmindedly. ¡°And in two days,¡± he began, ¡°the Church plans to put the Ring of Enkindling on public display.¡±


    I shot him a skeptical glance. ¡°Isn''t that just inviting trouble? If Cedric¡¯s after these artifacts, putting one out in the open seems like a disaster waiting to happen.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Orvox¡¯s thin smile didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Indeed, that''s precisely the point. The Church is counting on it.¡±


    Antreas frowned, her eyes narrowing. ¡°A trap, then,¡± she murmured, piecing it together.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Orvox nodded. ¡°Despite our best efforts, Cedric has proven... elusive. The Church believes that luring him out with the Ring will be the best opportunity to capture him once and for all. The defenses surrounding the Ring are extensive¡ªat least on the surface. They want him to think it¡¯s an opportunity he can¡¯t pass up.¡±


    I shook my head slowly, staring down at my now cold coffee. It was a risky play, one that relied on Cedric''s desperation or arrogance. But if there was one thing I¡¯d learned about people who were driven by some hidden pain or obsession, it was that they tended to walk into traps with their eyes wide open, hoping for something beyond what was being offered.


    ¡°That¡¯s why they brought you on board,¡± Orvox continued, his gaze shifting between Antreas and me. ¡°The Knights of Reed and... well, someone with your unique skills, Crowley. They need individuals who can adapt, who aren''t bogged down by the Church''s rigid protocols."


    I leaned back, crossing my arms. ¡°So that¡¯s it then? We¡¯re here to play the Church¡¯s watchdogs?¡±


    Orvox¡¯s eyes hardened slightly, a rare crack in his otherwise placid demeanor. ¡°If you¡¯re feeling particularly ungrateful for the opportunity, Crowley, you¡¯re free to leave. Your contract was never ironclad. You can walk out that door now, if you so choose.¡±


    The air in the room seemed to thicken with tension as his words settled. For a moment, I considered it. Walk away, find some other job on Musspell that didn¡¯t involve chasing after crazed men with a penchant for dangerous relics. The pay was good, but was it worth the headache?


    I glanced at Antreas, who sat unmoving, her steely gaze fixed on Orvox. If she was fazed by his challenge, she didn''t show it. The Knight of Reed had already made up her mind to see this through, it seemed.


    With a sigh, I pushed my chair back and stood up. ¡°I¡¯ll stay,¡± I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. ¡°But let''s be clear¡ªif Cedric makes a move, I¡¯m not interested in playing hero. I just want to finish this job and get out.¡±


    Orvox¡¯s stern expression softened, just a touch. ¡°Fair enough, Crowley. That¡¯s all we ask.¡±


    He reached for a stack of folders on the table, sliding one over to me. ¡°Inside is all the intel we¡¯ve gathered on Cedric and his movements. Study it carefully. If we¡¯re going to have any chance of stopping him, we need to know him better than he knows himself.¡±


    I took the folder, flipping through the pages briefly. ¡°And what about you?¡± I asked, nodding toward Antreas. ¡°What¡¯s your angle in all this?¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer immediately, instead locking eyes with Orvox, as if silently asking for permission. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and even. ¡°I¡¯m here to see justice done, no matter what form it takes.¡±


    Her words were like a cold gust of wind, and I felt an uncomfortable shiver crawl up my spine. The Knights of Reed had a reputation for their relentless pursuit of their version of ¡®justice,¡¯ no matter who or what got in the way.


    ¡°Well then,¡± I said, snapping the folder shut. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll see just how this game of cat and mouse plays out. But don''t expect me to dive headfirst into a trap for the sake of your holy relics. I¡¯m here to get paid and get out.¡±


    Orvox smiled faintly, as if he¡¯d expected that answer all along. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of asking anything more, Crowley. In two days, the Ring of Enkindling will be displayed at the Cathedral of Illumination. We¡¯ll move out tomorrow night to get into position. Rest up and prepare yourself.¡±


    As the meeting adjourned, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that we were heading straight into the jaws of something much bigger than any of us realized. Holy artifacts, Cedric¡¯s cryptic motivations, and the shadows lurking behind the Church¡¯s desperate gambit¡ªit was all starting to feel like the kind of mess I¡¯d spent years trying to avoid.


    But here I was, once again diving into the thick of it.

 Information 1

    The door clicked shut behind Antreas, the sound echoing through the stillness of my apartment. Orvox and I stayed in silence for a moment longer, the only noise being the discussion of two people below my apartment.


    To be honest a part of me couldn''t help but feel relieved when she left. It had nothing to do with her personality or her looks but her soul just felt weird or wrong.


    ¡°An odd one, that Antreas,¡± Orvox mused, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost contemplative, as if he was considering a puzzle with no clear solution.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered, leaning back against the counter and rubbing my tired eyes. ¡°Odd¡¯s one way to put it.¡±


    He gave a small, knowing smile but let the subject drop. The air between us settled into that familiar tension that was always there when we were alone. He was probably going to leave too, I figured, head back to wherever it was he stayed when he wasn¡¯t meddling in the affairs of desperate people like me.


    But instead, he stayed seated, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. I turned my back to him, busying myself with clearing the remnants of our coffee meeting, hoping he¡¯d get the hint.


    ¡°So,¡± Orvox began, almost casually, ¡°earlier you mentioned being an Apprentice-level Arcanist and unable to manifest your soul.¡±


    I stiffened at his words, the dish I was drying slipping from my grip and clattering into the sink. Of course he wouldn¡¯t let that go. Nosy bastard. I didn¡¯t turn to face him right away, giving myself a moment to gather my thoughts¡ªor at least pretend I was still interested in cleaning up.


    ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡± I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.


    Orvox¡¯s chair creaked as he leaned forward. I could practically feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. ¡°I¡¯m curious, Crowley,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Given the nature of our mission¡ªand the enemies we¡¯re likely to face¡ªI¡¯d like to understand the capabilities of those I''m working with.¡±


    I finally turned around to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. ¡°My capabilities?¡± I let out a dry chuckle. ¡°Well, nothing special I specialise in spatial displacement or to be more board Spatial magic."


    Orvox tilted his head slightly, genuinely curious now, not a hint of judgment in his gaze. It almost made me want to explain, which was strange.


    I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pushing away the sudden anxiety gnawing at my chest. ¡°look it isn''t as useful as you are thinking. When I say manifesting my soul what it means is that I can''t properly detect it"


    "It isn''t anything special A lot of people are unable to do this however I am closer to it. Probably give me a week or two and I will be able to manifest it." I said as a matter of fact.


    To be honest it was more my own fault because I just didn''t train hard enough during my time at the academy. But it was still a shameful part of my life.


    Orvox didn''t respond immediately. He simply watched me with that steady, contemplative gaze, the kind that made it feel like he was peeling back layers, one by one, to see what lay beneath.


    I turned back to the sink, staring down at my reflection in the soapy water, hoping he would drop the subject. The silence stretched out between us, filled only by the faint hum of conversations from below. But Orvox, persistent as always, didn¡¯t let it go.


    ¡°You say that like it¡¯s a minor inconvenience,¡± he said, his voice low, almost gentle. ¡°Yet it seems to bother you more than you¡¯re willing to admit.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I tensed, gripping the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. ¡°So what if it does?¡± I muttered. ¡°We all have our regrets.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to pry, Crowley,¡± Orvox continued, and for once, he almost sounded sincere.


    I leaned back against the counter, letting out a breath as I tried to gather my thoughts. Orvox watched me with that infuriatingly patient expression, like he was trying to dissect every word before I even said it.


    "Manifesting your soul is... different. See, when you work with Arcana, you¡¯re pulling on the threads of magic that exist all around you, the ambient energy in the air, the ground, in the ether. It¡¯s like... like accessing an open network. But when you can manifest your soul, that changes everything."


    I paused, searching for the right analogy. "It¡¯s like having your own, private server," I said finally. "Instead of relying on external energy that can be unstable or unreliable, you can tap directly into your own internal reserves. You¡¯re not just borrowing power¡ªyou¡¯re generating it. It¡¯s more efficient, more reliable. In combat, it¡¯s the difference between waiting for the Wi-Fi to load and having a direct, unbreakable line."


    Orvox nodded slowly, absorbing my explanation. He stayed quiet for a moment longer, like he was turning over each word in his mind. ¡°I see. But I still don''t understand why is it that important to manifest your soul then?"


    I shrugged. "I don''t know man, it isn''t important for the Arcanist. I suppose it''s more important for a physical fighter than me." I lied.


    While technically correct using external mana was poisonous for the body and could result in multiple degradation of the body ultimately to death.


    I decided to shift the conversation before he could pick at the sore spot any longer. ¡°You know, Orvox,¡± I said, forcing a casual tone into my voice, ¡°for someone so interested in other people''s capabilities, you¡¯ve been pretty tight-lipped about your own. I¡¯ve been working with you for a while now, and yet... I still don¡¯t really know what you can do.¡±


    Orvox leaned back in his chair, watching me with a newfound intensity, like he¡¯d been waiting for this moment. ¡°You want to know about my Blessing, Crowley? Fine,¡± he said with a tone that was almost daring me to regret asking.


    I arched an eyebrow, genuinely curious now. It was rare for him to drop his usually guarded demeanor. ¡°Yeah, I do. You¡¯ve been dancing around it for long enough.¡±


    A grin spread across his face¡ªnot the mild, polite smile he usually wore, but something fiercer, more triumphant. ¡°Alright, then,¡± he said, almost with a sense of pride. He stood up slowly, as if to make a point, and began to speak in a tone that was both reverent and forceful, like a preacher delivering a sermon.


    For a moment, I thought he was going to explode into a long lecture however the voice he began in was small and controlled yet filled with joy.


    The air around his hand began to shimmer, distorting like heat waves rising off scorching asphalt. A faint scent of burning ozone filled the room, and then, almost imperceptibly, a small flame appeared above his open palm.


    The flame appeared instantly and without a single use of mana was detected from it.


    ¡°This,¡± he said, his tone almost reverent, ¡°is my Blessing¡ªPyrokinesis.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but stare. For someone like me, who had to wrestle and coax magic from the ether with incantations and mental strain, seeing someone manifest power so effortlessly was both awe-inspiring and, admittedly, infuriating.


    ¡°Pyrokinesis,¡± I repeated, my voice softer now, almost more to myself. ¡°So, you¡¯re a Pyromancer?¡±


    "Yes." He answered instantly.


    ¡°Impressive,¡± I said flatly, hoping my tone was neutral enough. ¡°Thanks for the demonstration, Orvox. But I¡¯ve got a bit of research to get back to. Need to figure out a few things before the big mission.¡±


    Orvox¡¯s grin faded slightly, but he took the hint. ¡°Of course,¡± he replied, his tone shifting back to that smooth, polite cadence he always wore like armor. ¡°I¡¯ll see myself out. Do try to get some rest, Crowley. We¡¯ll need everyone at their best.¡±


    I gave a noncommittal grunt as he turned and walked out of my apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. This time, there was no echo¡ªjust a suffocating silence that fell over the room like a thick fog. I waited, counting to ten under my breath to make sure he was truly gone.


    When I was confident he wouldn¡¯t come back, I let out a long breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. I glanced around the room, my eyes observing if they had left something that could record me.


    However nothing was out of the ordinary.


    I rubbed my temples, trying to recall everything the Academy had drilled into us.


    A Blessing, they had taught, was not like Arcana. It didn''t use formulation and knowledge to bring about its desired effect but a single thought. It wasn¡¯t the result of training or natural talent. No, a Blessing was bestowed by something¡ªor someone. And therein lies its danger.


    The Academy¡¯s warning echoed in my mind: ¡°A Blessing is as much a curse as it is a gift. To wield it is to invite the weight of its origin."


    I pushed away from the counter and wandered over to the small, cluttered desk in the corner of the room. Stacks of notes, scribbled diagrams, and half-finished theories were scattered across the surface, remnants of my desperate attempts to solve my own shortcomings.


    I reached for a well-worn notebook and flipped it open to a familiar page. At the top, scrawled in my own handwriting, were the words:


    ¡°Soul Manifestation and its science"


    Below it, an intricate diagram showed the flow of energy through the body¡ªthe intersection of mana. The soul. I traced a finger along the lines, following the theoretical path that should allow a person to access their inner reservoir. It looked so simple on paper, but in practice... I let out a frustrated sigh and slammed the notebook shut.


    The diagrams and theories were all well and good, but they weren¡¯t enough nor important at the moment. Currently I have to familiarize myself with the local traditions and gain more critical information.


    Gringol


    The God that the people of Musspell believed in. I realized with no small amount of irritation, I knew next to nothing about it.


    I leaned back in my chair, staring at the peeling paint on the ceiling. Since I wasn''t from here I wouldn''t be allowed in a good one however any library or book shop would really do.


    A place less concerned with rules and more likely to have the kind of obscure, unfiltered knowledge I was after. The kind of knowledge that could be dangerous in the wrong hands... or in mine.


    I grabbed my coat and slung it over my shoulders, making sure to pocket a small notebook and pen.

 Chapter 5 part 2

    The tablet flickered on as I slipped it inside me small bag. I made a quick sweep of the room, double-checking for anything I might need. My eyes lingered on a battered notebook near the edge of the desk, its pages filled with my research on Arcana I was researching. It wasn¡¯t crucial for now, but I tossed it into my bag anyway¡ªold habits died hard.


    A low, rumbling growl broke the stillness.


    ¡°You planning to leave me behind?¡± Amon¡¯s voice, smooth and laced with a hint of amusement, echoed from the corner of the room.


    I turned to see him lounging on the couch, his dark fur blending into the shadows. His amber eyes glinted in the dim light, alive with intelligence.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t realize you cared so much,¡± I shot back, shrugging into my coat.


    ¡°Care? Hardly,¡± he replied, stretching lazily before hopping to the floor. ¡°But someone¡¯s gotta keep you alive. You¡¯re hopeless on your own.¡±


    The air in the room seemed to shift, a faint tremor vibrating through the floorboards. I paused, glancing at Amon, who had stopped mid-stretch, his ears swiveling.


    So that was the usual tremors. Nothing new I suppose.


    We stepped into the hallway, the faint scent of burning ozone lingering in the air. The tremors seemed to have subsided, but the heat remained, it was the usual with this damn planet.


    I made my way down the creaking stairs, Amon padding silently beside me.


    Outside, the city of Musspell was alive with its usual chaos. The streets were crowded with merchants hawking wares, street performers drawing small crowds, and the ever-present hum of conversation blending into a cacophony of life.


    However the people were mostly engrossed with the start of their festival.


    Sweat beaded on my forehead as I pushed through the crowd, the heat pressing down like a suffocating blanket. Amon padded ahead, his sharp amber eyes scanning for threats¡ªor perhaps just a clear path. His tail swished irritably as a pair of children stumbled too close, nearly tripping over him in their excitement.


    ¡°You¡¯re attracting attention,¡± Amon muttered without turning back, his voice barely audible over the festival¡¯s din.


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to get through this mess,¡± I replied, brushing past a merchant shouting about his rare gemstones.


    After what felt like an eternity of weaving through the throng, I finally spotted the small, unassuming sign hanging above a narrow doorway.


    The writing was something that I couldn''t understand. Probably Risese, I didn''t know how to read it but could make do with a dictionary and a few hours.


    I stepped inside, the noise of the festival fading into a muffled buzz behind me. The interior of the shop was dimly lit, the air thick with the musty scent of old paper and leather bindings. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, each packed tightly with books, scrolls, and other artifacts. It was an oasis of calm compared to the chaos outside.


    The clerk behind the counter was hard to miss. She stood at the same height as Orvox although her form was more leaner a byproduct of his physical training perhaps, her Formorian heritage evident in her broad shoulders and striking reddish skin. Her elongated features were both intimidating and elegant, and her sharp eyes flicked toward me as I entered.


    "You here to browse or buy?" Her voice was deep and steady, tinged with a faint accent I couldn¡¯t place.


    I gave her a small nod of acknowledgment, trying not to be overly obvious as I took in her towering form. "I¡¯m looking for a couple of things¡ªhistory books, particularly about the early days of this planet, and a copy of the holy book of Gringol."


    Her eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Gringol, and I tensed, wondering if I¡¯d said something wrong. But she simply reached beneath the counter and retrieved a thick, weathered tome, setting it down with a heavy thud.


    "Everyone wants this lately," she muttered, brushing off some imaginary dust from the cover. "Religion of the people, so it¡¯s always in stock. As for history..." She paused, gesturing to the far corner of the shop. "Second shelf, bottom row. Plenty to choose from. Anything specific?"


    "Just the basics for now," I replied, adjusting the strap of my bag. "Something to get me up to speed."Stolen story; please report.


    She nodded and turned her attention back to the large ledger on the counter, apparently deeming me no longer worth her focus.


    I moved toward the indicated shelf, Amon padding silently beside me. His nose twitched, and I caught a faint whiff of something¡ªspices, maybe, or incense. The shop was full of subtle distractions. Still, I found the section she¡¯d mentioned, crouching down to examine the titles.


    Most of the books were dense and uninviting, their titles written in Risese script. My fingers traced the spines, lingering on one that looked particularly ancient. The edges of the leather cover were worn, but the gilded lettering glinted faintly in the dim light.


    "That one¡¯s a good place to start," Amon said, startling me. His voice was low, his ears flicking toward the shopkeeper as if he didn¡¯t want her to overhear. "It¡¯s got the early stuff you¡¯re looking for¡ªfounding myths, old treaties, that kind of thing."


    "How do you know?" I asked, pulling the book free and holding it up.


    He didn¡¯t answer, just gave me a sharp look that said, Trust me. I sighed and added it to my growing list of mysteries about him.


    By the time I returned to the counter, I had the holy book and two history texts under my arm. The Formorian clerk glanced at my haul and raised a ridged brow.


    "Light reading, huh?"


    "Something like that," I replied, sliding the books toward her. She rang them up efficiently, her long fingers moving with surprising delicacy over the worn spines.


    "That¡¯ll be thirty-two aurs," she said.


    I fished a handful of coins from my pocket and set them on the counter, hoping I wasn¡¯t short. She counted them quickly, nodded, and handed me a small slip of parchment as a receipt.


    "Good luck," she said, her tone neutral but her gaze lingering. "You¡¯ll need it."


    I didn¡¯t ask what she meant. Instead, I slipped the books into my bag, adjusted the strap, and headed for the door.


    Outside, the heat and noise hit me like a wall. Amon followed close behind, his tail swishing irritably as we re-entered the throng.


    "So, what¡¯s next?" he asked, his amber eyes gleaming with curiosity.


    (Cut)


    The sun had started to dip below the jagged skyline of Musspell by the time I found a quieter corner of the city¡ªa small plaza shaded by a canopy of scraggly trees.


    I sank onto a worn bench, pulling the ancient history book from my bag.


    Amon leapt up beside me, lounging in his usual way but keeping his eyes on the passing crowd. "You¡¯re really going to read that here?" he asked, sounding more amused than annoyed.


    "Best time," I muttered, flipping open the cover. The pages smelled of age and dust, the Risese script flowing in intricate patterns across the yellowed parchment. Thankfully, the book came with a translation guide, although it was clunky and added an extra layer of effort to the process.


    I skimmed the first few sections, which focused on the planet¡¯s founding.


    Musspell was a planet who''s surface, largely covered in toxic wastelands and jagged terrain, had been colonized millennia ago by settlers desperate enough¡ªor perhaps ambitious enough¡ªto tame its dangers.


    Three powers had emerged to rule the planet, each holding sway over a different aspect of life.


    The first belonging to the King or more correctly the Royal Family of the Planet and the Empire. The Ferysac Empire stretched across the habitable zones of Musspell, its ruler known as trelzur.


    His line had ruled for centuries. The book described the monarchy as both a stabilizing force and a repressive regime, depending on who was asked.


    The King¡¯s reach extended into nearly every aspect of daily life, from the bustling trade hubs to the tightly controlled agricultural zones that fed the population. His power was enforced by an elite guard known as the Ferysian Legion.


    The second was the Church of Gringol was the only officially recognized religion on Musspell, its teachings deeply intertwined with the planet¡¯s history. As the church was one of the first and oldest organisation on the planet it had the highest authority and fame. Their God was Gringol the God of Life and many other things. Although the history books didn''t really go in much detail.


    Festivals, like the one happening now, were as much religious observances as they were public celebrations. According to the book, questioning the Church¡¯s authority was tantamount to heresy, a crime punishable by exile¡ªor worse.


    The third power was the outer guard. Honestly nothing much was written about them. The Outer Guard was tasked with patrolling these regions, ensuring that the toxins didn¡¯t encroach on the cities and that nothing¡ªor no one¡ªemerged from the Wastes unaccounted for.


    --


    I paused, letting the weight of the information settle.


    ¡°Not exactly light reading.¡± Amon said, his amber eyes scanning the crowd.


    "It''s not much the academy had much more reading for the first semester." I replied absent mindedly. Even now looking at Amon was hard.


    Looking at him reminded me of many memories I didn''t want to relive and a sense of regret overwhelmed me every time.


    I shook my head, banishing the creeping sense of regret before it took root. No time for that now. Closing the history book with a quiet thud, I slipped it back into my bag and pulled out the holy book of Gringol. Its cover was thick and ornate, embossed with symbols I didn¡¯t recognize.


    Amon watched me, his amber eyes flicking between the book and the bustling plaza. "You¡¯re actually going to try reading that thing? Bold move.¡±


    I didn¡¯t dignify his comment with a response, instead flipping open to the first page. The text inside was dense and archaic, written in Risese script far more elaborate than the history book¡¯s translation guide could easily handle. I squinted at the looping letters, trying to make sense of them, but they danced mockingly across the page, refusing to yield their meaning.


    The translation guide was worse than useless. Its clunky, literal explanations left me more confused than when I started. After several minutes of struggling, I closed the book with a sigh and rubbed at my temples. ¡°This is impossible. How does anyone understand this?¡±


    I tossed the translation guide back into my bag with a frustrated huff. The holy book of Gringol lay unopened on my lap, its ornate cover mocking me with its intricate symbols. It felt less like a sacred text and more like a cruel puzzle designed to waste my time.


    "This is impossible," I muttered, leaning back against the bench and glaring at the sky as if it were to blame. "How does anyone understand this drivel? No wonder they make it a religion¡ªyou¡¯d have to pray for a miracle just to get through a page."


    Amon chuckled softly beside me, the sound low and almost taunting. "Maybe you¡¯re just not enlightened enough. Want me to take a crack at it?"


    "Very funny," I shot back, closing the book with a decisive thud. "I don¡¯t see you helping with anything except commentary."


    "I¡¯m moral support," he replied with a lazy swish of his tail. "Not my fault if you¡¯re hopeless."


    Before I could fire back, I felt the weight of someone sitting down beside me on the bench. The sudden intrusion jolted me, and I turned sharply to confront whoever thought it was a good idea to join us uninvited.


    The words froze in my throat as I took in the figure beside me.


    He was slender but solid, with a wiry frame draped in a worn, patchy coat. His face, gaunt and pale, was illuminated by a wide, manic grin that didn¡¯t quite reach his sharp, hollow eyes. His hair was an unruly mess, sticking out at odd angles as though he¡¯d been caught in a storm¡ªor maybe caused one himself.


    ¡°Move, and I¡¯ll blow us all to hell,¡± he said cheerfully, his voice lilting with unsettling enthusiasm.


    The grin didn¡¯t falter. Neither did the small, intricate device cradled in his lap, wires sparking faintly as his fingers toyed with it.


    For a moment, the world seemed to go still. Even the heat of Musspell¡¯s oppressive air seemed to recede, replaced by the cold, sharp edge of danger.


    Amon stiffened beside me, his amber eyes locked on the man with an intensity I¡¯d rarely seen. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, but I forced myself to stay still, swallowing the rising panic clawing at my throat.


    The man¡¯s grin widened further, impossibly. "Let¡¯s have a little chat, shall we?"

 Chapter 5 part 3

    The stranger¡¯s appearance was like something pulled from the depths of a fever dream. His wiry frame was hunched slightly forward, giving him the air of a predator poised to strike. The coat he wore, patched with mismatched scraps of fabric, seemed more like an afterthought than an article of clothing. It hung off his frame in tattered layers, frayed edges swaying gently in the faint breeze.


    But it was his face that demanded attention.


    Hollow, sunken cheeks accentuated the sharp lines of his jaw, and his skin was pallid, almost translucent under the dim glow of the plaza¡¯s flickering lights. His grin was wide, unsettlingly so, stretching his thin lips into something more akin to a snarl. His teeth were jagged and uneven, yellowed by time and neglect, and his eyes¡ªGods, his eyes¡ªwere pits of barely contained madness. They gleamed with a feral light, sharp and calculating, like those of a cornered animal deciding whether to flee or fight.


    As I sat frozen, I couldn¡¯t help but notice the faint twitch in his left eye, a sporadic, almost imperceptible movement that betrayed a mind on the brink of shattering. His hair, dark and wiry, stood in wild tufts as though electrified, framing his face in a chaotic halo.


    The device in his lap was no less unnerving. It was a jumbled mass of wires, gears, and glowing conduits, crudely soldered together but humming with a sinister energy. Sparks danced along its exposed edges, crackling faintly in the oppressive silence. His fingers moved over it with an unsettling familiarity, caressing its surface like a beloved pet.


    Amon growled low, the sound a rumble in the back of his throat, his fur bristling as he crouched, ready to pounce. The man¡¯s eyes flicked to the creature, his grin widening impossibly, stretching to a grotesque degree.


    ¡°Ah, the beast has teeth,¡± he said, voice lilting with mock delight. ¡°Good. I like a challenge.¡±


    Every muscle in my body screamed at me to run, to act, to do something. But the weight of his presence¡ªof that impossible grin and the humming device¡ªkept me rooted to the spot. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was fear or fascination. Perhaps both.


    A cold wave of fear washed over me, freezing me in place. My hands trembled, fingers brushing against the coarse leather of my bag as I gripped it tightly. The grin on the stranger¡¯s face¡ªit wasn¡¯t just unsettling. It was wrong. Deeply, profoundly wrong.


    It struck a chord, pulling me back to a memory I didn¡¯t want to relive. Just a few days ago, I had faced Cedric, his unrelenting gaze filled with a similar, suffocating presence. The way his words coiled around me like invisible chains, squeezing until I could barely breathe. This was the same feeling¡ªa helpless, sinking terror that made my chest ache with every shallow breath.


    ¡°Stay calm,¡± I whispered to myself, the words barely audible over the sound of my pounding heart. Amon¡¯s growl grew louder, a low rumble that matched the tremor in my hand. I clenched my fist, forcing it still, but the effort felt monumental, as though the fear itself had seeped into my bones.


    The stranger didn¡¯t move. His grin remained fixed, his eyes locked on mine with that manic intensity. Yet something about his stillness began to feel¡­ off. Too perfect, too unchanging. My breathing slowed as I focused on him, my instincts overriding my panic. I leaned in slightly, trying to read the minute details I had overlooked in my terror.


    And then I saw it.


    The faint, almost imperceptible sheen of sweat that coated his gaunt skin. Not fresh but dried, cracked at the edges. His chest didn¡¯t rise or fall; his body didn¡¯t twitch, save for that left eye. His skin was too pale, the wrong shade for someone alive.


    My fear twisted into something sharper, colder¡ªan edge of realization cutting through the haze.


    He was dead.


    At that moment I felt a subtle change in the air as the magical energy fluctuated and enters the corpse. At that moment I understood that this was nothing but a....


    ¡°A puppet,¡± I breathed, my voice shaking.


    Amon¡¯s growl stopped abruptly, his head snapping toward me with wide, alert eyes. He had realized it too.


    This wasn¡¯t the work of just anyone. It was an Arcanist¡ªa skilled manipulator who had repurposed this corpse into a vessel, a grotesque marionette to deliver their message or perhaps their trap.


    I sat frozen, fear replaced by a sharp sense of danger. Somewhere nearby, the puppeteer was watching.


    A nervous laugh bubbled up in my throat, the absurdity of the situation crashing over me like a wave. ¡°Didn¡¯t know you were on to Cedric,¡± I said, my voice trembling slightly but managing to carry a thin veneer of calm.


    The corpse didn¡¯t respond immediately. Its grin remained frozen for a heartbeat longer, and then, to my mounting unease, it shifted. The edges of its smile faltered, pulling into a small, unnatural frown. The expression lingered for the briefest of moments before snapping back to that grotesque, too-wide grin.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Ah, Cedric,¡± the corpse said, its voice an eerie mimicry of life. Hollow and lilting, but with just enough inflection to feel disturbingly real. ¡°Yes, I dabble here and there. However¡­¡± The words were punctuated by a faint crackle of energy from the device in its lap. ¡°Not something I¡¯m great at.¡±


    The cadence of the words, the deliberate pauses¡ªit wasn¡¯t the corpse speaking. It was the Arcanist behind the curtain, pulling the strings, shaping the words to fit their mockery of life.


    I let out another strained laugh, more to calm myself than to respond. ¡°Yeah, well, you¡¯re selling yourself short,¡± I muttered, my fingers brushing against the edge of my bag as I calculated my options. ¡°This whole puppet routine? Pretty convincing. Almost had me fooled.¡±


    The corpse tilted its head slightly, the motion jerky and inhuman, like a marionette being manipulated by an unskilled hand. ¡°Flattery,¡± it replied, its hollow voice almost playful, ¡°will get you nowhere.¡±


    My heart thudded painfully in my chest, but I kept my breathing steady. Whoever was behind this wasn¡¯t here for idle conversation. They wanted something¡ªand I needed to figure out what that was before they decided to make their next move.


    The corpse cocked its head again, the gesture sharp and unnatural. Its wide, unsettling grin didn¡¯t waver as it spoke. ¡°You¡¯re an odd one, Saturn Crowley. A peculiar enigma wrapped in the most mundane of cloaks.¡±


    My breath caught at the mention of my name, my grip tightening on the strap of my bag. Amon bristled, his tail lashing behind him, sensing my tension.


    ¡°You¡¯re surprised,¡± the voice continued, the tone dripping with condescension. ¡°Don¡¯t be. I know plenty about you. More than you might think. But that wasn¡¯t always the case.¡± The corpse shifted slightly, its bony fingers twitching over the strange device in its lap, sending another small surge of energy crackling through the air.


    ¡°For a time, you were... elusive,¡± it added, almost musing to itself. ¡°Not because you¡¯re particularly clever, mind you. No, no. It¡¯s the opposite, really. You¡¯re... how should I put this?¡± The corpse¡¯s head tilted as though in thought. ¡°Mundane. Unremarkable. Like a dull star lost in the night sky.¡±


    My jaw clenched, anger bubbling beneath the surface. The corpse¡ªor Cedric, through his grotesque puppet¡ªcontinued without pause. ¡°Your teammates, though? Oh, they were fun. So much to uncover. The arrogant woman, always eager to leave a trail. The priest, constantly leaving breadcrumbs for anyone with half a brain to follow. But you, Saturn¡­¡±


    The corpse leaned forward, its grin widening¡ªif that was even possible. ¡°You were difficult. Not because of some great skill at hiding, but because there was so little to find. So little of note. It was almost as if you didn¡¯t matter. A footnote in someone else¡¯s story.¡±


    I swallowed hard, refusing to let the jab sink in. ¡°And yet, here you are,¡± I said, forcing an edge of defiance into my voice. ¡°Talking to me.¡±


    The corpse laughed¡ªa hollow, tinny sound that echoed unnervingly in the empty plaza. ¡°Oh, yes. Here I am. But that¡¯s more of a testament to my tenacity than your worth, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    I felt a flush of heat rise to my cheeks, but I kept my composure. Cedric wasn¡¯t going to rattle me¡ªnot if I could help it.


    ¡°Saturn Crowley,¡± the corpse said, leaning back again. ¡°The eldest of three. Born to an upper-middle-class family of Arcanists. A disappointment, I hear, though I suppose failing the final exam to the Round table Academy of Arcanists will do that to a person.¡± The words were cruel, precise, and calculated to hit where it hurt most.


    ¡°You¡ª¡± I started, but the corpse raised a bony hand, silencing me.


    ¡°Let me finish,¡± it said with mock courtesy. ¡°You¡¯ve spent the last few years scraping by. A failed student turned¡­ bounty hunter, was it? Oh, and from Earth, yes? Southeast Asia, if I¡¯m not mistaken. Lovely place, though I doubt you¡¯ve seen much of it lately.¡±


    I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste grounding me. Amon growled low, his stance tense as he prepared to strike. The corpse¡¯s grin flickered, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough to remind me¡ªthis was a puppet, not the man himself.


    ¡°And yet,¡± Cedric continued, his voice softening, almost mockingly sympathetic, ¡°here you are. The mundane Saturn Crowley, tangled in a game far beyond your station. It¡¯s almost poetic, really.¡±


    I forced a smirk, though it felt hollow. ¡°And yet, here I am, Cedric. I suppose we¡¯re both tangled in games far beyond our stations. But tell me, how does a single son of wealthy parents, Cedric Cale, end up here? Married to Gilgan Marick, blessed with a daughter, only to lose them both?¡±


    The grin on the puppet faltered. Just for a moment¡ªa flicker of hesitation, or perhaps surprise. Then it returned, wider, more unnerving than before. ¡°Ah,¡± the voice said, soft and sharp like a blade sliding from its sheath. ¡°You¡¯ve been doing your homework, I see. I didn¡¯t think anyone remembered that name.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I remember it,¡± I pressed, keeping my tone steady even as my heart raced. ¡°Cedric Cale. Born to an average family. Mid-level bureaucrat for a father, doting homemaker for a mother. You followed the script perfectly, didn¡¯t you? The good son with good grades and just enough charisma to be liked but not envied. A steady rise to mediocrity. Nothing remarkable, not even your little family.¡±


    Amon growled softly, pacing behind me, and I could feel his tension mirrored in my own body. But I didn¡¯t stop. ¡°Gilgan Marick, your wife. A daughter whose name is conspicuously absent from every record I could find. What happened, Cedric?¡± My voice dropped, the question sharp and cutting. ¡°why do all this?"


    The corpse stood rigid for a moment, its head cocking sharply to one side. Then, with an almost casual motion, it hurled the device to the ground. The wires and gears inside whirred with a high-pitched keening, and a sickly green light pulsed from its core.


    ¡°A bomb!¡± I shouted, my voice strained with urgency.


    Amon growled sharply in acknowledgment, darting toward me just as the connection between Cedric and the corpse severed. The puppet¡¯s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless and still. Cedric¡¯s sinister laughter echoed faintly as it faded, leaving a hollow silence in its wake.


    The device¡¯s pulse quickened, the glow intensifying. Without hesitation, I called to Amon. ¡°Now!¡±


    Amon¡¯s form shifted mid-stride, his sleek fur dissolving into tendrils of shadow. In an instant, he enveloped me, forming a dense, protective barrier just as the device detonated.


    The explosion was deafening. A wave of force and green energy slammed into the shadowy shield, its power barely contained. Sparks and shrapnel ricocheted off Amon¡¯s protection, but the sheer magnitude of the blast still sent us hurtling backward.


    I collided hard with the jagged metal wall of a nearby shop, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Amon dissolved from his protective form, reforming beside me as his usual self. His fur bristled, his eyes scanning for danger even as he let out a low, worried whine.


    I groaned, pushing myself up with shaking arms. My back throbbed from the impact, and my ears rang from the explosion. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡±


    I took a moment to catch my breath, the air burning in my lungs as I straightened up with a wince. Amon stood beside me, his sharp gaze flicking from the smoldering remnants of the bomb to the surrounding plaza. His growl rumbled low, a sound that mirrored the frustration bubbling in my chest.


    ¡°Damn it,¡± I muttered, my voice hoarse.

 Chapter 6 Part 1

    Musspell¡¯s hospitals weren¡¯t like those on Earth. The room I sat in was more organic than one would find on earth.


    That wasn''t surprising as culturally while supporting science the citizens of Musspell were not that high on using Artificial intelligence as it took autonomy from them.


    The smell in the air was a mix of an unrecognisable substance and a nature however the smell was fake.


    Even on a planet so far the I.G.A''s power couldn''t be underestimated as this felt similar to earth. The smell that was mandatory on every I.G.A hospital. Musspell even though a capital was still heavily influenced by it.


    I shifted, testing my limbs. My body ached all over, but nothing felt broken. Amon had returned into the world of spirits to heal. I reached up, touching the side of my head, and winced as my fingers brushed a tender spot just above my ear.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡±


    The voice was deep, calm, and laced with authority. I turned my head to see Orvox standing at the door.


    His hulking frame seemed even larger in the confined space.


    ¡°Orvox,¡± I croaked, my voice rough. I cleared my throat. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect you to show up so soon.¡±


    ¡°Given the circumstances, I thought it best to prioritize this... debriefing,¡± he said, stepping closer. His presence was as imposing as ever, but there was a subtle undercurrent of concern in his tone. ¡°The blast could have killed you. It¡¯s fortunate your familiar acted quickly.¡±


    ¡°Amon,¡± I corrected automatically, though my voice lacked its usual edge. ¡°He¡¯s not a beast.¡±


    Orvox gave a slight incline of his head, acknowledging the correction.


    ¡°Cedric,¡± I murmured, my fists clenching at the memory. ¡°Did you catch him?¡±


    Orvox shook his head. ¡°The trail was cold by the time our agents arrived. However, we retrieved fragments of the device and the remains of the puppet. Our analysts are working to uncover anything useful.¡± He leaned forward slightly, his lower eyes narrowing. ¡°What did he tell you, Crowley?¡±


    "Nothing." I replied. My head still rang with sound.


    Orvox¡¯s gaze sharpened, his upper pair of eyes narrowing alongside the lower. He studied me for a moment, as though sifting through my words for half-truths. ¡°Nothing,¡± he repeated, the word laced with skepticism.


    I let out a slow breath, leaning back against the pliant, unnervingly warm wall behind me. ¡°Not in the literal sense. He didn¡¯t say much, but I learned enough.¡± My voice still sounded foreign to me¡ªstrained and hoarse. ¡°He¡¯s corrupted, Orvox. Not the greed kind but in a literal sense I mean his mind has been corrupted by another entity."


    Orvox straightened, his expression darkening, though he kept his composure. ¡°You¡¯re certain of this?¡±


    ¡°As certain as I am that you¡¯re standing there.¡± I rubbed my temple, the tenderness above my ear flaring up again. ¡°Whatever happened to Cedric, it¡¯s not natural."


    Orvox¡¯s mouth pulled into a grim line. ¡°That¡¯s a bold claim, Crowley.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a Hypothesis of mine." I spoke standing up.


    ¡°A hypothesis,¡± Orvox repeated, his tone flat, though I could sense the wheels turning behind his gaze. ¡°You know how dangerous speculation can be, especially when it involves... outside influences.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don''t believe me then. I don''t really care."


    Orvox stared at me for a moment longer, his expression inscrutable, before exhaling a short, measured breath. ¡°Believe you or not, I need more than hypotheses to act on."


    "Well can''t confirm it now I will have to wait for the next time I meet him." I replied.


    He handed me the neatly folded bundle of robes. ¡°Here. Try not to wrinkle it. Priests are supposed to look dignified.¡±


    I stared at the dark cloth in my hands, brow furrowing. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m very serious,¡± Orvox replied, his tone far too amused for someone supposedly on official business. "The higher ups wanted this to be done secretly and didn''t want others to know that they received help from outside especially from another planet."


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    "You¡¯re going to play dress-up as one of their priests.¡±


    I snorted, unable to stop the incredulous laugh that escaped me. ¡°And you¡¯re expecting me to blend in? You think they won¡¯t notice how much I stick out?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll notice less if you don¡¯t complain so loudly,¡± Orvox shot back, smirking just enough to make me want to punch him. ¡°Besides, you already know what¡¯s at stake. You were at the debrief. The artifacts being displayed tonight aren¡¯t just shiny relics¡ªthey¡¯re dangerous. And given recent events, the church doesn''t want more chaos."


    I sighed, knowing resistance was pointless. Orvox wasn¡¯t the type to argue for the sake of it, and if the higher-ups were involved, then my complaints would only fall on deaf ears. I stared at the bundle of robes in my hands, their deep crimson hue a stark contrast to my usual attire.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I muttered, pulling myself upright. ¡°But if I start itching, I¡¯m blaming you.¡±


    Orvox¡¯s smirk deepened. ¡°Duly noted.¡±


    With a slight wince, I removed the loose hospital garment and began tugging the robes over my sore limbs. The fabric felt strange against my skin¡ªsmooth yet stiff, like it was woven from some synthetic material masquerading as something organic. It clung awkwardly in places, and despite the loose fit, the collar scratched against my neck. I tugged at it irritably.


    ¡°Uncomfortable?¡± Orvox asked, clearly enjoying himself.


    ¡°Like wearing sandpaper,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Who makes this stuff? Certainly not anyone with comfort in mind.¡±


    Orvox chuckled, stepping back to give me room as I adjusted the layers. When I finally stood straight, he gave me a critical once-over, his upper pair of eyes narrowing slightly in what I could only guess was approval.


    ¡°You¡¯ll pass,¡± he said, though his tone still carried a hint of doubt. ¡°As long as no one gets too close.¡±


    ¡°Reassuring,¡± I muttered, glaring at him. ¡°What do they call these priests again?¡±


    ¡°Vornites,¡± he answered. ¡°You¡¯ll be impersonating a minor acolyte. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut unless absolutely necessary.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°That¡¯s asking a lot.¡±


    Orvox ignored the jab and gestured toward the door. ¡°Let¡¯s move. The car is waiting.¡±


    I followed him out of the room, the walls of the hospital seeming to ripple slightly as we passed, like the place itself was breathing. It was unsettling, and I was relieved to step into the hallway, where the strange organic design gave way to something more structured¡ªthough still uniquely Musspellian.


    The exit led us to a landing pad, where a massive vehicle awaited. It resembled a car in the loosest sense, though it was far too large to navigate anything resembling Earth¡¯s streets. Its sleek, segmented frame hummed faintly, and the tinted windows pulsed with faint, red light. A driver¡ªor pilot, perhaps¡ªstood nearby, clad in a simple uniform and avoiding eye contact.


    Orvox stepped forward and opened the passenger hatch, motioning for me to get in. ¡°After you.¡±


    With a resigned sigh, I climbed in, immediately sinking into the plush, oversized seat. The interior was far more luxurious than I¡¯d expected¡ªdark, cushioned, and eerily quiet. Orvox followed, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss.


    ¡°Comfortable?¡± he asked, settling into the seat across from me.


    ¡°More comfortable than these robes,¡± I shot back, tugging at the collar again.


    Orvox didn¡¯t respond, his expression growing serious as the car began to move. The hum of the engine deepened, and through the windows, I caught glimpses of Musspell¡¯s skyline.


    The skyline of Musspell stretched upward like jagged teeth, spires of bio-organic architecture twisting toward the glass dome that shielded the city. Outside, the haze of toxic gases swirled like a perpetual storm, tinged with iridescent shades of green and purple.


    The vehicle remained silent within, although I preferred silence the sheer tension on Orvox made it very uncomfortable to sit with him.


    "So," I broke the silence. "Any one of your higher up from the church I shouldn''t piss off or stay clear of?"


    Orvox¡¯s gaze shifted to me, his lower eyes narrowing slightly while the upper ones remained fixed on the skyline outside. ¡°There¡¯s a lot you shouldn¡¯t say, Crowley. The Vornites are a prickly bunch, but a few of them can¡¯t be underestimated.¡±


    He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and began listing them off with the kind of precision I¡¯d come to expect from him.


    ¡°First, there¡¯s Lord Tensen the current Arch. He¡¯s the one you¡¯ll most likely encounter during the ceremony. He oversees the reliquary¡ªthe one handling the artifacts¡ªand he¡¯s meticulous. Extremely perceptive, too, so don¡¯t get too close and keep your answers short. Avoid unnecessary eye contact. He doesn¡¯t like outsiders, and while he¡¯s loyal to the church, he¡¯s also not blind. If he catches even a hint of inconsistency, we¡¯ll have problems.¡±


    "Okay." I immediately filed in my mind.


    ¡°Stick to platitudes. Praise the church¡¯s work, the importance of the artifacts, and act humble. Acolytes don¡¯t speak unless spoken to, so don¡¯t volunteer information.¡±


    ¡°Got it."


    ¡°Then there¡¯s Deacon Resha. She¡¯s younger than most of the clergy¡ªambitious, sharp, and with more influence than you¡¯d think for her rank. The higher-ups trust her the most. She is the youngest Paladin of the current generation. She likes to test people¡ªsubtle questions that seem innocent but dig for truths you don¡¯t want to reveal. If she addresses you, defer to her authority, keep your answers vague, and don¡¯t try to be clever.¡±


    ¡°Sounds charming,¡± I said dryly. ¡°What about the rest of them?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s one more you should watch for: Seer Barith.¡±


    The way Orvox spoke was almost respect not the kind you said when speaking of a celebrity kind but more someone you trusted.


    "He¡¯s old, Crowley. Really old. No one knows how long he¡¯s served the Vornites, and the current highest authority of the church after our God of course."


    "Barith," I repeated, the name sitting heavy on my tongue. "Sounds like the kind of guy I should steer clear of entirely."


    Orvox nodded solemnly. "He¡¯s sharp¡ªfar too sharp for someone who¡¯s spent so much time in spiritual communion. He¡¯s seen enough to spot an outsider just from the way they breathe. If you¡¯re forced into his presence, don¡¯t lie. Don¡¯t volunteer information, but don¡¯t try to trick him. He¡¯s been guiding the Vornites for centuries. Some say he even glimpses the threads of fate.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re telling me he can see the future?¡±


    Orvox tilted his head slightly, considering his words. ¡°Not exactly. But he knows more than he should, and he always seems to know the right questions to ask.¡± His expression darkened. ¡°If he looks at you, Crowley¡ªreally looks¡ªyou¡¯ll feel it. Like he¡¯s peering into the marrow of your bones.¡±


    I shifted uneasily in my seat, staring out the tinted window. ¡°Great. Just the kind of guy I want judging my acting skills.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll manage,¡± Orvox said, though it didn¡¯t sound like reassurance. ¡°Just remember: humility, deference, and silence. You¡¯re an acolyte¡ªnothing more.¡±


    The car¡¯s hum shifted, a subtle change in pitch as we descended. Outside, the skyline gave way to a massive structure that seemed to grow out of the earth itself. It loomed in the hazy light, its spires spiraling upward like the twisted trunks of ancient trees. Organic ridges ran along its surface, pulsing faintly with a crimson light, as though the building itself had a heartbeat.


    The Cathedral.

 Chapter 6 Part 2

    ¡°You ready?¡± Orvox asked, breaking the silence.


    ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± I muttered, though my gut twisted with unease. The closer we got, the more suffocating the air felt, like the Cathedral¡¯s sheer presence was pressing down on me. It was irrational, but I couldn¡¯t shake the sensation.


    Orvox opened the door, and I followed him out onto the landing pad. The air here was heavy, carrying an odd dampness that clung to my skin and robes. I tugged at the stiff collar again, wishing it didn¡¯t feel like it was trying to strangle me.


    The Cathedral¡¯s entrance loomed ahead¡ªa towering archway guarded by two massive statues. Each one was a humanoid figure draped in flowing robes, faces obscured beneath deep hoods. Their hands were outstretched, palms upturned as if offering something unseen.


    ¡°Remember what I told you,¡± Orvox said in a low voice as we approached the entrance. ¡°Head down, don¡¯t speak unless spoken to. You¡¯re nothing but an acolyte.¡±


    "Yes." I whispered back.


    Beyond the entrance, the interior of the Cathedral opened up into a vast, cavernous hall. The architecture was a geometric nightmare.


    Rows of figures in crimson and black robes moved silently through the space, their footsteps muffled by the thick, fleshy carpet that covered the floor. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep my gaze lowered as Orvox led the way


    We passed several groups of Vornites¡ªpriests, acolytes, and paladins alike. Some carried ornate staffs or reliquaries, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods. Others moved with purpose, their hands clasped before them in silent prayer. A few glanced in our direction, but none lingered long enough to seem suspicious.


    Orvox stopped near a side corridor, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. ¡°This is where we part for now,¡± he murmured. ¡°I need to speak with the church¡¯s officials before the ceremony begins. You¡¯ll blend in with the other acolytes in the preparation hall. Just follow their lead.¡±


    I glanced at him, incredulous. ¡°You¡¯re leaving me alone here?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± he replied, though his tone lacked the conviction I wanted to hear. ¡°Just don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±


    I gave Orvox a stiff nod, swallowing the bitter taste of apprehension as he disappeared down the dim corridor, his heavy footfalls soon lost to the muted hum of the Cathedral. Left alone, I scanned the sprawling hall through quick, cautious glances. Every inch of the space seemed designed to overwhelm: the soaring arches, the oppressive shadows, the faint, rhythmic chanting that seemed to bleed from the very walls.


    I fell into step behind a small group of robed figures shuffling toward one of the preparation chambers, mimicking their deliberate movements. It wasn¡¯t difficult to blend in¡ªeveryone here seemed more focused on their own tasks, their heads bowed in silent reverence. Still, the air prickled with an unseen weight, as though a thousand unseen eyes were scrutinizing every step I took.


    The preparation hall was an antechamber bathed in a dim, crimson light, the only source of illumination spilling from sconces shaped like clawed hands. Acolytes gathered here in small clusters, whispering prayers or inspecting ceremonial implements. I lingered near the edge of the room, avoiding eye contact and breathing shallowly, as though doing anything more might draw unwanted attention.


    It wasn¡¯t long before a chime¡ªlow, resonant, and unsettling¡ªrippled through the Cathedral, silencing the murmurs. One by one, the acolytes filed into the main hall. I followed, slipping into the flow of robed figures.


    The Cathedral¡¯s main hall was far grander than the entryway, though no less unnerving. The geometric designs stretched impossibly high, angles meeting at unnatural intersections, the architecture defying sense. Massive tapestries hung from unseen hooks, depicting scenes of cosmic battles, shrouded figures, and celestial rings that burned like suns.


    At the center of the hall lay the focus of the ceremony: a wide, circular dais of dark stone, ringed by raised platforms. Arrayed upon these platforms were artifacts¡ªrelics of reverence and dread¡ªeach displayed upon velvet cushions or within crystalline cases. Gilded placards marked each item, though the script was strange and shifting, never quite settling into something I could understand.


    My eyes wandered until they landed on it: the Ring of Enkindling.


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    It sat in the center of its platform, ensconced within a glass reliquary that pulsed faintly with energy. The ring was deceptively simple¡ªsilver with a dark, opalescent stone set in its heart. But even from this distance, I could feel it: a presence, faint yet inescapable, like a flicker of divine fire dancing at the edge of perception.


    Gringol¡¯s ring, I thought. The divine ring worn by the god himself in ancient days¡ªso the texts said.


    It was smaller than I¡¯d imagined. Unassuming, almost. And yet the air around it seemed thick, charged with an energy that made my skin tingle and my fingertips itch.


    I couldn¡¯t help but drift closer, though I kept to the periphery. From here, I could watch it, study it, without drawing undue attention. Acolytes and priests milled about, some kneeling in quiet prayer, others arranging the offerings placed at the base of the dais. All the while, the ring remained at the center of it all, unmoving yet alive.


    I shifted my weight, planting myself where I had a clear line of sight. If something was going to happen here¡ªand I could feel it in my bones¡ªit would start with the Ring of Enkindling.


    And I intended to see it coming.


    The quiet murmur of prayer and shuffling robes filled the vast hall, but I could sense her approach before I saw her. A ripple of movement¡ªan almost imperceptible shift in the air¡ªheralded her arrival. My pulse quickened, but I kept my gaze lowered, feigning the nervous stillness of an untested acolyte.


    When she stopped in front of me, her presence became inescapable. Decon Resha.


    Even among the crimson and black garb of the paladins, her robes stood apart. They were darker, stitched with silver threads that caught the faint crimson light and twisted it into strange patterns. Over her shoulders rested pauldrons of polished obsidian, carved with symbols that seemed to breathe in and out of recognition. And beneath the shadow of her hood, two pale eyes¡ªalmost white¡ªstudied me with predatory interest.


    ¡°Are you new?¡± Her voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to it, like a blade hidden in silk. She folded her arms, her gloved fingers tapping an idle rhythm against her elbow.


    I swallowed hard, bowing my head deeper. ¡°Y-yes, Decon. This is my first time assisting the ceremony.¡± I injected a stammer into my voice, praying it sounded earnest. My hands twitched at my sides, but I stilled them quickly. A nervous acolyte. Nothing more.


    She tilted her head slightly, her gaze cutting through my lowered posture. ¡°Your name?¡±


    ¡°Korven, Decon,¡± I replied, using the name Orvox had given me for this charade. ¡°Acolyte Korven.¡±


    ¡°Acolyte Korven,¡± she repeated, as though testing how it sounded on her tongue. Silence hung between us for an unbearable moment before she took a step closer. ¡°You¡¯ve been staring quite intently at the Ring of Enkindling.¡±


    I froze, though only for the barest second. It was long enough.


    ¡°I¡ªI didn¡¯t mean any disrespect, Decon,¡± I stammered quickly, lowering my voice to a meek whisper. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s beautiful. I¡¯ve read of it in texts, but seeing it¡­¡± I let my voice trail off as though I were overcome with awe. ¡°It feels¡­ holy.¡±


    Her pale eyes narrowed faintly, and for an instant, I thought I saw the corner of her mouth twitch¡ªwhether in a frown or a smirk, I couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°It is holy,¡± she said, her voice a low murmur, though the words carried the weight of admonition. ¡°To look upon it is a privilege granted only to the faithful.¡±


    ¡°I am faithful,¡± I said quickly, perhaps too quickly. I cursed myself inwardly and ducked my head lower, clutching at my robes as if ashamed. ¡°Forgive me, Decon. I was overawed, nothing more.¡±


    Resha let the silence drag, studying me like one might study a rat caught in a trap. I could feel her probing for cracks, for anything that might betray me. Her presence loomed¡ªshe was taller than most, and even still, her bearing made her seem larger. The air around her felt heavy, like standing at the edge of a deep abyss.


    ¡°What texts?¡± she asked suddenly.


    I blinked. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°The texts you claim to have read,¡± she clarified, her tone deceptively smooth. ¡°You said you¡¯ve read of the Ring. Which texts? Or are you simply parroting what others have told you?¡±


    Panic flashed through me, cold and sharp. I searched for something¡ªanything¡ªthat wouldn¡¯t betray my ignorance. ¡°The Catechism of Vorn, Decon,¡± I said after a beat, keeping my voice low and submissive. ¡°It mentions the Ring¡¯s creation by Gringol, and how it carried the fires of the divine in its stone. I¡­ I wanted to see if it was true.¡±


    She didn¡¯t respond immediately. Instead, she circled me, slow and deliberate. Her boots barely made a sound against the fleshy carpet, yet I could feel the weight of her presence behind me, above me, all around me. A chill traced its way down my spine as she stopped at my side.


    ¡°You are too curious for an acolyte,¡± Resha said at last, though her tone was unreadable. ¡°Curiosity can lead to¡­ ruin.¡±


    I nodded vigorously, as though chastened. ¡°Yes, Decon. You¡¯re right. I¡¯ll keep my head down. I promise.¡±


    Another unbearable silence passed, and then Resha sighed¡ªa sound far too soft to be comforting. ¡°See that you do,¡± she murmured. ¡°The ceremony begins soon. Do not stray.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Decon,¡± I whispered.


    Without another word, she turned and strode away, her robes whispering against the air as she moved. I allowed myself to release a slow, careful breath. My heart thundered in my chest, my nerves alive with the sensation of narrowly avoiding disaster.


    From across the hall, Resha paused, glancing back once more¡ªher pale eyes lingering on me for a fraction of a second longer than I liked. Then, with a small turn of her head, she was gone, melding into the procession of priests and paladins.


    I stared at the Ring of Enkindling once more, its opalescent stone flickering with faint light. Whatever¡¯s about to happen¡­ she¡¯ll be watching. And I¡¯ll need to be ready.


    Just as that thought passed through my head the roof shook violently.

 Chapter 6 Part 3

    The air split with a deafening crack, and the world turned to chaos.


    The roof above trembled violently, sending cascades of dust and fragments of stone raining down. A moment later, the lights flickered momentarily but eventually the crimson glow vanished, leaving only the afterimage of their eerie light seared into my vision.


    I staggered, instinctively dropping to a crouch behind one of the cases that showed a painting of a war.


    A thick, acrid smell invaded my lungs, burning my throat and making my eyes water. I immediately used a spell to filter the contents of what I inhaled making sure nothing was damaging me.


    A pain rushed through my head, a confirmation of the spell being used.


    Screams erupted around me.


    The visitors and Acolytes stumbled blindly, their solemn procession shattered. Some clawed at their throats, collapsing to the ground as the gas enveloped them. Others fled in disarray however the priest had immediately started to counter the smoke that had begun to pile up.


    I forced myself to move, keeping low as I darted toward the edge of the hall. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat a reminder of how exposed I was. The gas was spreading fast, rolling through the space like a living thing, consuming everything in its path.


    Somewhere nearby, I heard a voice bellowing commands¡ªsharp, authoritative, cutting through the chaos like a blade. ¡°Secure the relics!" It was Resha.


    However those words made me pause? They knew that there was a chance to be attacked? The church hired my services. Yet why weren''t their important people told? Why did Orvox not inform them about me? Why did they display the ring which is so important if they knew of the attack.


    Dread coiled in my stomach as my mind raced through the implications. None of this added up. The church was meticulous, secretive, and paranoid to a fault. If Resha knew there was a chance of an attack, then why was the security so... performative? Why weren¡¯t the Acolytes better prepared? And why was I¡ªtheir so-called contingency¡ªkept in the dark?


    I clenched my jaw, shoving those questions aside for the moment. Answers wouldn¡¯t mean much if I was dead.


    The edges of the hall were clearer, the gas less concentrated here, but I could still hear the coughs and choking sounds from the others.


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    I pressed myself against one of the cold stone pillars, straining my ears for more. Resha¡¯s voice was distant now, drowned out by the growing roar of panic. A faint vibration in the air prickled against my skin, familiar and ominous. Someone was casting¡ªno, multiple people were casting.


    Seriously why was Cedric going so overkill in his attack. This was a sure fire way that he would get officials truly on his case. Damn it.


    I forced myself to stand and run towards the center. My senses were high on alert as screams sounded around me.


    A man in tactical gear lunged at me, his spell forming mid-air, but I countered swiftly, "Yield to slumber." muttering the incantation to put him to sleep. He crumpled to the ground, and I pressed on, my focus narrowing as I neared the altar.


    My heart pounded as I leaped over a fallen statue and slid to cover behind a broken column. Another pair of attackers ran towards me saying something in a foreign language.


    The air shimmered as a bolt of lightning sizzled toward me. I raised my hand and shouted, "Bastion!" A translucent shield shimmered into existence just in time to absorb the strike, but the effort sent a spike of pain lancing through my skull. I gritted my teeth, forcing the dizziness to subside as my shield flickered out.


    Without waiting for them to reply I instantly sent a arc of lightning shit towards both attackers


    The arc of lightning crackled through the air, splitting into two jagged tendrils as it reached the attackers. They barely had time to react. One screamed, convulsing as the surge struck him, while the other managed to erect a hasty barrier. The lightning shattered the shield, though, and sent him staggering back, smoke rising from his armor.


    I didn¡¯t wait to see if they were down for good. The momentary reprieve gave me enough time to dash forward, weaving between fallen debris and still-writhing bodies.


    Finally, I reached the altar, panting as I crouched low. My fingers extended cautiously toward the glowing ring, and the moment they passed through it, I knew.


    Nothing. No weight, no texture¡ªjust light and air.


    A hologram.


    The realization clicked into place with stunning clarity, and I nearly laughed at the sheer audacity of it all. The church had never put the ring here. Of course, they wouldn¡¯t. No one was foolish enough to display something so valuable and dangerous so openly.


    But then why the spectacle?


    The answer came as a second wave of clarity, this one sharp and almost painful. This wasn¡¯t just a trap for Cedric¡ªit was a game of misdirection, designed to fool him and everyone else. The church had made it public knowledge that the ring was here, but in truth, it had to be locked away in the deeper vaults beneath their main sanctum. And Cedric, clever as ever, had seen through the charade¡ªor at least part of it.


    This attack wasn¡¯t about the ring in the hall. It was a distraction. A smokescreen.


    Cedric¡¯s real target was the vaults. He would try to lead the main force here and take his powerful warriors with him.


    I leaned back against the altar, catching my breath as the implications settled over me. Tricked. Played. Thoroughly outmaneuvered by both sides.


    For a brief moment, I considered leaving¡ªwashing my hands of this mess entirely. But no. The thought ignited a spark of anger in my chest. They wanted to use me as a pawn? Fine. But I¡¯d be the one flipping the board.


    The vaults. That¡¯s where I needed to be.

 Author Note.

    Hello, dear readers.


    First, I want to thank each and every one of you for your time given for this story.


    Unfortunately, due to personal circumstances, I regret to inform you that this story is going on hiatus. Life has thrown a few unexpected challenges my way, and right now, I need to prioritize addressing them before I can return to writing. While I am passionate about this project and eager to see it through, it¡¯s important to me that I give it the time and care it deserves, something I currently cannot do.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    At this moment, I do not have a set date for when updates will resume. I understand this may be disappointing, and for that, I deeply apologize. Please know that this is not a decision I made lightly.


    Thank you for your patience, understanding, and continued support. I hope to return as soon as I am able.