ã€ŠSuper Genetics - (Book 1 Stubbing on 2/19)ã€‹


 Chapter 1: Supernova

    Part 1: Fallout

    Dirt piled upon Terry, dashing across his open mouth and eyes, clinging to his teeth and tongue as he tried to scream out in panic.

    I¡¯m being buried alive!

    Air sirens blared across the fields. Screams rang out from the nearby farmers. A wave of heat slammed into him, even as more dirt was shoveled onto his face and body. He clawed at the open grave, his tiny hands churning the soil. Something slammed into his chest, pinning him back into the hole.

    It was a hand pressing down on him. Slick, red flesh covered five spindly fingers.

    Before he could process what was happening, another wave of heat splashed across his exposed skin. He cried out in breathless pain.

    It burns! It hurts so bad! Is this it? Is this how I die? Buried and burned alive at the same time?

    The weight of his unfulfilled superhero dreams crashed down upon him, heavier than the soil he was buried under.

    Just minutes earlier, he had been holding hands with his mother as they strolled along the canal.

    ¡°I¡¯m too old to hold hands with my mom,¡± he had whined.

    To which she had replied, ¡°Just this last time?¡±

    She always said that, and he always gave in. The truth was, it made him feel better when she asked, like he was doing her a favor.

    It certainly wasn¡¯t because he enjoyed the smooth warmth of her skin. And he absolutely did not get a thrill from the subtle tingle of her power¡¯s natural expression on his palm.

    Holding hands was for babies and he was just doing her a favor.

    Thoughts of soft skin and pleasant tingles had been wiped away when the first person noticed the supers flying in low on the horizon.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± a nearby woman asked, pointing at the V-formation just cresting the distant trees.

    His mom¡¯s grip tightened on his hand and he tried to pull it away. She may not have been strength-based, but any A-ranked super had deadly strength in their body.

    ¡°Ow! Mom, you¡¯re hurting me.¡±

    She ignored him, her eyes snapping to Terry¡¯s dad across the field. He had been talking with one of the farmers until that moment. But something about his wife¡¯s gaze sent him flying into action. He began barking orders in ghoulish, then repeated them in English. His super-enhanced voice echoed across the fields.

    ¡°Alpha one and two, delay. Alpha three on me. Alpha four on the princess. Alpha five with my son.¡±

    His dad¡¯s voice had always carried a tone of command that Terry almost considered a superpower. He had heard it many times in his life, and even practiced it in the mirror when he was alone. Though he adored his mom¡¯s powers, the one thing he wanted to inherit from his dad was the power of that voice.

    But in that moment, that tone he had known for a lifetime had been tinged with something else, something he had never heard in the man¡¯s voice.

    Fear.

    ¡°What is it, mom?¡± Her eyes cast about the field, seeming to take in the entire situation in a single glance. When she looked down at Terry, there were no whites in her eyes. Instead, opaque orbs of silver stared back at him.

    When she spoke, it wasn¡¯t as his mom, but as a superhero.

    ¡°We¡¯re being attacked.¡±

    Attacked? The words were strange in his mind. But what she said next had him clutching her in a panic.

    ¡°Crunch will take you to safety while your dad and I hold them off.¡±

    ¡°No! I wanna stay with you!¡± He hated the fear in his voice. He wasn¡¯t a kid anymore.

    Then why was it that all he wanted to do was cling onto his mom¡¯s waist while she stroked his hair and told him everything would be alright?

    ¡°I know, sweetie. I¡¯m sorry, but there¡¯s no time.¡± Powerful arms wrapped around him. And they weren¡¯t his mom¡¯s. ¡°Take him out of here. Hurry!¡±

    Crunch¡¯s grating voice answered. ¡°Yes, princess.¡±

    He was ripped away from his mom, his hands clutching tightly to her clothes before she gently pulled them free.

    ¡°Mom! No, mom! I wanna stay with you!¡±

    But her back was to him now. He was hoisted onto Crunch¡¯s shoulder as the ghoul raced away at superhuman speed. The air was knocked from his chest as he bounced up and down. He tried to cry out, but his voice wouldn¡¯t come.

    Then his eyes caught on the sun glinting off the incoming supers and he gasped.

    Five shapes approached in the distance. They were flying low, swooping over the trees and down toward the fields. If Terry didn¡¯t know all of these supers by heart, he wouldn¡¯t have believed it.

    The Knights of Sol!

    Though Crunch was carrying him away faster than any normie could ever run, the Knights were still gaining on them. As they neared, Terry was able to spot out the individual supers from their costumes¡ªhe knew them all down to the smallest stitch.

    He spotted Lirian, the Siren, in the back, her sapphire-blue costume resembling the scales of a mermaid. Across from her, Tenebrous, the Shadow, broke from the formation and disappeared into the forest. In front of the Siren was Savage, the Primordial Man. He was a Duelist-class super, with burnt-orange fur covering him head-to-toe. Opposite him, the Scourge, who wore an emerald green costume embossed with insects and spiders crawling up his arms and chest.

    And finally, the glittering jewel of the formation, Sol himself. Golden chainmail covered the leader of the Knights, seeming to draw in strands of visible sunlight with a magnetic pull.

    The formation was suddenly sent into disarray as two ghouls were thrown into the air by Terry¡¯s dad like human-sized cannonballs. In the moment before impact, they unfurled from a tucked position, spreading their limbs wide, dagger-like claws extended. One ghoul bounced off Savage as the super lashed out with a powerful strike. The other was hit in the chest by a beam of golden light, smoke rising from its body as it tumbled back to the earth.

    A moment later, Sol, Siren, and Scourge turned to face Terry¡¯s dad. Savage continued onward, falling to the ground as he left Sol¡¯s aura and lost the super-given power of flight. That didn¡¯t stop the Primordial Man, who simply crouched in the dirt, then leaped into the air. A car-sized crater was left behind by the super¡¯s leap.

    Terry watched as the fur-covered man arced impossibly high into the air, before his trajectory flipped and he began falling back to the ground.

    What is he doing? Terry wondered. Why is he abandoning the fight¡ª

    His thoughts jumbled as an impossible idea began to form.

    Is he coming for me?

    He had only a half-second to dismiss the idea, reconsider it, then dismiss it once more, before all the confirmation he could possibly need landed with an explosive grunt just ten feet in front of him and Crunch.

    The impact of Savage¡¯s superhero jump shook the earth like a quake, and Crunch stumbled as the soil rocked beneath them.

    When the super rose from the newly-formed crater, he was surrounded on all sides by a five foot wall of churned dirt. A smaller, but still superpowered, jump took him over the lip of the crater to land behind Crunch and Terry.

    The ghoul slowly lowered Terry to the ground and the boy found his feet unsteady from being carried. He recovered his footing as quick as possible, afraid of looking foolish in front of one of his idols.

    Savage was even more impressive in person. He was seven feet tall, his muscles rippling as he rolled his shoulders. Dirt was matted in his orange fur, giving the super a feral look. When he spoke, his voice was deep and Terry felt it vibrate in his chest.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come for the boy. Step aside.¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Even hearing the words come from Savage¡¯s mouth, he couldn¡¯t believe it.

    ¡°M-me?¡± he stammered.

    Crunch¡¯s hand reached over and pulled Terry behind him.

    ¡°Give me the boy!¡± Savage growled.

    Terry flinched, his legs beginning to tremble.

    Crunch worked his jaw, struggling to form the words through a mouth full of jagged teeth. His voice grate like a foot stepping on broken glass. ¡°Come and take him¡­flesh bag.¡±

    Savage let out a bestial roar, while Crunch remained eerily silent. The super¡¯s legs flexed and he launched toward Crunch with superhuman speed. Terry was suddenly thrown away as Crunch sidestepped. He landed in the dirt, his head whipping against the ground.

    Crunch was standing to the side, tufts of burnt-orange fur tangled in his claws. Savage was nowhere to be seen. Terry struggled to lift his head, but it felt so heavy. He tried to force it, but the movement made him dizzy and he nearly puked.

    An ear-splitting roar came from the pile of dirt built up around the crater Savage¡¯s entry had made. A moment later, the soil was violently lifted in the air as the super burst out of the mound. It took Terry a moment to realize that Savage¡¯s attack had sent him headlong into the pile.

    The image of a world-famous super leaping out of a pile of dirt was irrationally funny to him, like one of his Saturday morning cartoons. A distant part of him realized that his life was in danger, but he couldn¡¯t help it¡ªthat was funny!

    I hurt my head, he thought. This shouldn¡¯t be funny.

    Then Savage lunged toward Crunch again and the seriousness of the situation settled in.

    He¡¯s trying to kill your bodyguard, Terry. You should really, really, be concerned. Maybe if I tell him that I have his poster on my bedroom wall, he wont want to kill me? It was worth a shot, right?

    But as he opened his mouth to say, I¡¯m a big fan, Savage! I have your poster on my wall, the absurdity of it hit him like a fist and he kept his mouth shut.

    Savage launched himself toward the ghoul¡ªmore measured this time. But Crunch managed to dodge at the last moment, his claws not doing much on the super¡¯s powerful skin except to give him strips of bald patches exposing pale flesh beneath.

    The haze obscuring his thoughts began to thin as he watched Savage launch himself at Crunch like an enraged bull. What had been funny moments earlier now had Terry¡¯s limbs trembling.

    What was I thinking? ¡®I¡¯m a big fan?¡¯ More like, I¡¯m a big idiot. He¡¯s here to kill me, or at least hold me hostage.

    Terry watched, frozen with terror, as Savage missed a lunge for the fifth time, skidding to a halt just past Crunch. Movement around the super¡¯s waist drew his eye, but the fog in his brain made his thoughts sluggish. Too late, he realized what the super was doing.

    The dense fur around Savage¡¯s waist parted as his tail unwrapped itself. As his leap took him past the ghoul, he used his prehensile tail to wrap around the undead¡¯s arm. Crunch reacted almost instantly, striking down with deadly claws. But Savage¡¯s strength and fortitude were an order of magnitude greater than a ghoul¡¯s¡ªeven an elite like Crunch.

    Stupid. So stupid! he scolded himself. Why didn¡¯t I warn Crunch about the tail?

    The ghoul¡¯s claws did nothing against the tail, and the super used the grip to launch himself once more toward the undead. With a bone-piercing roar, Savage embraced the ghoul, pinning Crunch¡¯s arms to his torso.

    Crunch struggled to free himself, but the strength disparity was too great. As the ghoul attempted to angle his claws to dig into Savage¡¯s flesh, the super opened his jaw unnaturally wide. Great, ten-inch long fangs pushed through his gums and the super chomped down on Crunch¡¯s shoulder with one powerful bite. With a twisting of his head, he separated the arm at the joint, casually throwing it away like a man finishing a chicken wing.

    The shock of seeing Crunch dismembered broke Terry from his frozen state. He climbed to his feet, stumbling for a moment as a wave of dizziness took hold. The super opened his jaw wide once more, angling to consume the ghoul¡¯s entire head.

    Resolve filled his shaking limbs and steadied his bout of dizziness. And then, he charged the super.

    ¡°Get away from my friend!¡± he shouted, ramming his shoulder into Savage¡¯s haunches.

    He bounced off the super with a cry. Pins and needles stabbed into his arm as tears formed in his eyes. His vision went white from the pain.

    It felt like an eternity passed before fur-covered feet came into view. Through the pain and disorientation, he willed his eyes to track up from the feet, to the legs, and finally, to the animal face of one of the supers he had always idolized.

    Only to see a look of absolute disgust on Savage¡¯s face.

    ¡°Weak. Stupid.¡± Savage snorted and shook his head. The wave of hot breath and damp-smelling fur cloyed inside Terry¡¯s nostrils. ¡°If you were smart, you would have honored your ghoul¡¯s sacrifice by fleeing. Instead, you watch it die, then attack a god with the body of a mortal.¡± He reached down and grabbed Terry by his injured arm, sending a fresh wave of mind-numbing pain flashing through his entire body. ¡°You Fairways are all the same. Must be the inbreeding. Makes you simple¡ª¡±

    A familiar voice sounded from behind the super. The tone was casual, but the words carried the weight of a death sentence.

    ¡°Sometimes, simple courage can be more powerful than the strongest super.¡±

    Savage¡¯s eyes went wide and his grip on Terry loosened as he whirled around. Without a word, the fur-covered man tried to leap away. But bone-white, grasping hands reached up from the ground and clutched his ankles.

    Terry¡¯s grandfather stood behind Savage, his bone mask covering everything but his eyes, which were two red flames like the embers of a dying fire. Armor of exposed rib shielded his torso, and likewise his legs. In his hands rested a scythe that echoed quietly with the cries of captured souls. Its shaft was entirely black wood, while its blade was made of shaped bone.

    The Emperor of the Long Night, Traveler of the Underworld, and ruler of the Free-City of Wichita, casually strode toward Savage as the super struggled against the spirits pinning his feet.

    With a contemptuous stroke, he reaped the world-famous superhero, the bone-blade passing through fur, flesh, and organs without catching on anything.

    When the blade emerged from the other side of Savage, the super¡¯s body was completely intact. Only his spirit had been consumed by the Emperor¡¯s scythe.

    In the distance, a cry of anger echoed impossibly over hundreds of meters. His grandfather whirled toward the sound, just as a flash of light appeared on the horizon.

    His grandfather hissed something in ghoulish even as he smashed his blackwood scythe into the dirt. A dome of blue-white spirits appeared over Terry, his grandfather, and Savage¡¯s corpse. Terry¡¯s eyes burned as the light in the distance blossomed.

    What was that? he wondered, as the sky brightened noticeably¡ªeven though it had already been a cloudless day with plenty of sun.

    Something heavy landed on top of Terry and he cried out in pain.

    He was forced to close his eyes as heat washed over him. The spreading warmth was bearable at first. But over the next few seconds, it continued to rise, until he was screaming from the scorching heat. He was hoisted into the air and tossed over a mound of dirt. He fell unnaturally far, his body not hitting the ground as expected, but rather, falling into a hole. In a distant part of his mind, he realized that it was the crater made by Savage¡¯s landing.

    The pain in his head and his shoulder were his entire world¡ªuntil that first pile of dirt fell onto his face. His chest ached as he tried to scream, but no sound came.

    He was being buried alive.

    He struggled to claw his way out of the grave, his tiny hands shoveling uselessly at the soil. His lungs felt scorched and the dirt threatened to suffocate him. But through his panic, a distant thought surfaced.

    The heat was finally bearable¡­

    He latched onto that thought, processed it through his muddled brain, until he realized that Crunch had been the one that buried him¡ªnot to kill him, but to save him from the heat.

    The heat!

    Sol had gone supernova. That was the flash of light on the horizon and the unbearable heat scorching the air.

    Was there anything left of his home above this temporary grave.

    Was this grave even temporary?

    Time passed¡ªhe didn¡¯t know how much¡ªand his thoughts continued to slow, like his brain was trudging through a muddy river bank.

    The first thing he noticed was the light searing his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them tight. For a moment, he feared another strike from Sol had gone off, that his dirt covering had been vaporized from the intense heat, exposing him to their enemy¡¯s final strike.

    But a hand gripped his arm¡ªnot a ghoul hand, with its butcher knife claws, but a human hand. He opened his eyes, blinking away the dirt and the spots of light as he looked up.

    Staring down at him were two red flames peering through an ivory mask.

    ¡°Grandfather?¡± he tried to say. But his throat was coated in dust and scorched dry.

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to speak,¡± the familiar voice rasped. He was hauled effortlessly out of the hole and sat down by its edge.

    The air was uncomfortably hot and his skin burned, but anything was better than staying in that dirt hole for another second.

    To the side, Crunch lay still, one arm missing while wisps of smoke trailed off his body. Terry forced a trickle of saliva into his mouth, then swallowed painfully to wet his throat.

    ¡°Crunch?¡±

    His grandfather peered over at the ghoul with a flick of his ember eyes.

    ¡°I told you not to speak.¡± His tone was full of command and Terry didn¡¯t dare violate his orders again.

    But he couldn¡¯t stop thinking of Crunch, whose skin seemed to smolder under an invisible heat. Crunch, who had sacrificed himself for Terry.

    His eyes were pulled away as his grandfather stood up and faced the origin of the light. The dome of spirits had been a perfect mesh of interlocking hands. But now, they churned in the heat haze, their grips visibly loosening before Terry¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°This ends now,¡± his grandfather muttered to himself. He grasped his blackwood scythe in two hands, like a wizard wielding a staff, and smashed it into the soil.

    Once. Twice. Three times.

    A pealing echo of ethereal voices rose up from all around Terry. Grasping hands emerged, and even a lifetime spent surrounded by the unliving hadn¡¯t prepared the boy for what happened next.

    He cried out as a million screaming spirits burst up into the air. They weaved through the sky and each other, a dreadful howl echoing painfully. He slammed his hands over his ears, but it did little good. As they arced high into a sky dyed white with Sol¡¯s heat, the sun began to fade.

    Terry watched in utter disbelief as the dome of spirits formed above them, echoing the smaller dome that had first protected them from the worst of Sol¡¯s supernova. But this ceiling of interwoven spirits stretched as far as he could see in every direction, dimming the sun¡¯s rays until it seemed that night had fallen in the blink of an eye.

    On the ground, a dense fog seeped from the earth, rising like the spirits that had preceded it.

    Within moments, Terry could barely see his grandfather, let alone Sol or his remaining Knights.

    The only thing he could see, was Crunch¡¯s limp body as the lingering heat on his skin burned away the nearby fog.

    ¡°Crunch?¡± he asked softly, forcing sound through his scorched throat. The ghoul opened a single eye, his other eye covered by skin that had melted like the wax of a candle. When Terry saw that small movement, his heart leapt. ¡°Crunch!¡±

    Terry reached through the dirt, using his single good arm to pull himself forward, when two arms wrapped around him and hoisted him to his feet. Before he could reach the ghoul bodyguard that had been his shadow for as long as he could remember, he was dragged away.

    ¡°Let me go!¡± he cried feebly, but the hands gripping him weren¡¯t human and no matter how hard he struggled, he¡¯d never manage to pry a ghoul¡¯s grip away.

    ¡°The Emperor sent us, my prince,¡± a harsh voice hissed in his ear. ¡°Do not resist. We¡¯ve been given a Supreme Order.¡±

    ¡°Help him!¡± Terry shouted. ¡°He¡¯s one of you. Why won¡¯t you help him?¡±

    But they ignored his pleas and Terry was forced onto the ghoul¡¯s shoulder. As the undead bounced away with leaping strides, his dislocated arm and scorched skin spiked wave after wave of fresh pain through his body. The air was forced from his lungs even as he tried to cry out.

    After what felt like an eternity, his vision went black and he passed out.

    In the distance, at the edge of the horizon, a pinprick of light flashed once more, then guttered out, like a candle snuffed by the wind.

 Chapter 2: Death of the White Rose

    When Terry came to, it was to the sound of his father¡¯s voice shouting nearby.

    He sat up in a panic, his limbs tangled in the dirt.

    They¡¯re coming for me, he thought. Why are they coming for me?

    But the realization hit him a moment later; he wasn¡¯t buried in the dirt of the farm he had been visiting with his parents, but rather, the heavy linens of a bedsheet. He looked around in a panic, then spotted the familiar posters on the wall, the action figures lined up on the windowsill, and the desk where he sketched the various supers that he admired.

    His eyes tracked over the poster of Savage in an action shot, his jaw opened unnaturally wide, revealing forearm-length fangs, just before he ripped through one of Mechlord¡¯s super-soldier robots.

    A shiver traced up his spine as the memory of those fangs tearing through Crunch¡¯s shoulder replayed in his mind.

    His dad¡¯s voice echoed through the door, drawing Terry¡¯s attention back to the reality of the situation.

    ¡°He deserves to know!¡±

    Terry realized with a start that there were two ghouls standing guard by his door. Their eyes tracked over Terry, but their bodies remained impossibly still. Not even the slightest shift of their chest to signal the intake of air.

    All his life, he¡¯d been surrounded by the unliving. He even considered a ghoul one of his closest friends. But in this moment, for the first time, he felt an unease around the elite guards of his grandfather¡¯s city.

    A commanding voice answered his father.

    ¡°Knowing will only hinder his Awakening. You will obey¡ª¡± The voice cut off and Terry strained to hear what was said next. ¡°He¡¯s awake. We¡¯ll continue this conversation later.¡±

    Terry shot back against his pillows as the door handle turned. Standing in the doorway was his father. James Fairway was a well-built man with raven-black hair tinged by gray at the temples. His piercing green eyes landed on Terry and the boy flipped back his covers, prepared to run into his arms. Then he noticed the man standing behind him.

    His grandfather shared the same physical traits as his father, his eyes, hair, and body type close enough that they could have been brothers. But where his father¡¯s hair was beginning to gray and the corners of his eyes were slightly tight with wrinkles, his grandfather had flawless black hair and skin as smooth as a teenager; the extended lifespan of a S-ranker on full display next to his older-looking son.

    Maintaining the training embedded in him from a lifetime of practice, he stood from the edge of the bed and bowed his head.

    ¡°Hello, grandfather.¡±

    His eyes studied the carpet as he waited to be acknowledged. After a moment of silence, he dared to glance up to see if he had offended the ruler of Wichita.

    The first thing he noticed when his eyes tracked up was the scowl on his father¡¯s face. Though it wasn¡¯t directed at Terry, he understood that his father was not pleased with his reaction.

    Did I bow wrong? he wondered.

    Then he stole a glance at his grandfather, who was scanning the room with a look that Terry couldn¡¯t identify.

    After a moment of tense silence, his grandfather¡¯s eyes finally landed upon Terry, and the boy quickly averted his gaze.

    ¡°How are you feeling, grandson?¡±

    Terry lifted his head, standing up straight now that he had been recognized by his grandfather. Rather than answer right away, the boy took stock of his body in a careful fashion, focusing his attention on each limb individually before replying.

    ¡°My right shoulder was dislocated, grandfather. It appears to have been set while I was unconscious. Minor burns on most of my body.¡± He hesitated, afraid of making an inaccurate assessment. ¡°I think Dr. Wong must have healed the worst of it.¡±

    He studied his grandfather¡¯s face closely, trying to pry into the Emperor¡¯s thoughts. His eyes flicked up and down Terry¡¯s body once, then rose to look past Terry, at the far wall.

    ¡°Take those down,¡± he replied tersely.

    The boy whirled around, forgetting to stand at attention in his panic. Behind him, the poster of Sol dominated the center of the wall. His glittering gold chainmail shined in the sun, giving the super a halo of light like the Jesus of before.

    Terry turned back, the words ¡®Yes, grandfather¡¯ on his lips, before he realized that all he could see of the Emperor was his trailing cape.

    His grandfather had gone.

    He turned to his father, who hadn¡¯t said a word. ¡°Di-did I do something wrong?¡±

    His father¡¯s face was set, his lips pursed tight. ¡°No, son.¡± He glanced at the ghouls flanking him on either side of the doorway, a fleeting expression passing over his face before placing his stoic mask back on.

    He played that expression back in his mind, trying to parse the emotion he had witnessed, even as his father continued, ¡°I have some news, Terry. It¡¯s¡ª¡±

    His father stammered and all thoughts of analyzing the man¡¯s expression fell away as Terry jolted in surprise. He had never seen the uncertainty or doubt in his father that he saw now.

    ¡°What is it, dad?¡±

    His father¡¯s lip quivered and the man looked away suddenly. He rushed over to the desk and leaned heavily against it, his whole body shaking.

    Terry looked on in horror, frozen in place even more so than when Savage had attacked him.

    This wasn¡¯t the Prince of Twilight, the Commander of the Unliving legions that had solidified the Free-City of Wichita over decades of war and struggle. This wasn¡¯t the man who had always maintained a quiet dignity and a commanding presence.

    This wasn¡¯t his dad¡­

    He stepped quietly toward his father, afraid to make even the slightest sound as his hand stretched out uncertainly.

    His hand never touched his father¡¯s shoulder. He stood a foot from the man, letting his arm fall to his side as he looked around for guidance.

    How did you steady the man that had always been as steady as a rock?

    The two ghouls standing at the door stared straight ahead, as if embarrassed by his father¡¯s emotional display. He wanted to reprimand them, remind them who his father was. But the air was heavy. So heavy. To break the silence felt like the ultimate sin.

    After a few more moments, his father took in a wracking breath, stood upright, and composed himself by running his hands down his shirt to smooth the wrinkles. When he turned toward Terry, his usual neutral expression was back in place.

    The only evidence that anything unusual had occurred were the streaks running down his face.

    ¡°Son¡ª¡± His voice quivered and he cleared his throat. His shoulders rolled back and his chest puffed out. His gaze rested just above Terry¡¯s head, not quite meeting his eyes. ¡°Son, I have something to tell you. It¡¯s about your mother.¡±

    Mom! He hadn¡¯t even thought to ask.

    Terry glanced at the hallway, expecting her to walk through the door any moment.

    ¡°Mom? Where is she?¡±

    His father¡¯s breathing hitched and Terry¡¯s mind went completely still. The man¡¯s jaw clenched over and over again, and Terry wondered if his father would answer him at all.

    As he opened his mouth to ask again, his father spoke up suddenly.

    ¡°Your mother is gone.¡±

    Gone? Gone where?

    ¡°Where¡¯d she go?¡±

    His father ignored him, rubbing a hand across his face. They came back wet and he stared at the moisture, his eyes unfocused.

    ¡°Dad, I¡­I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    James¡¯ gaze snapped to Terry, his eyes narrowed. ¡°Don¡¯t make this more difficult than it already is,¡± he barked. ¡°She¡¯s gone. Don¡¯t you get it? Gone!¡±

    Terry recoiled, his legs bumping against the bed. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was scared and he didn¡¯t know why.

    His father sighed, closing his eyes. Terry watched as he took three deep breaths, then looked at him.

    ¡°She¡¯s dead, Terry.¡±

    No, that wasn¡¯t right. His mother was the most powerful super in Wichita¡ªother than the Emperor. If he wasn¡¯t so scared right now, he¡¯d call his father a liar.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Instead, he settled on, ¡°How?¡± Once his father explained, he¡¯d be able to tell the man why he was wrong. Why his mother wasn¡¯t dead, but maybe¡­ missing?

    James chewed his lip a moment before replying. ¡°She struck down Siren. The feedback killed her.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth opened but he couldn¡¯t form any words. Siren? Killed?

    The words had no meaning in his mind. He said them to himself over and over again, but no matter how many times he repeated them, they remained foreign concepts in his thoughts.

    His father looked to the side, his eyes tracking over something on the wall. Terry followed his gaze and his eyes went wide. James rushed over to the wall with heavy strides, his hands gripping the poster on either side. It was a poster of his grandfather from before he formed the Free-City of Wichita, when he was a powerhouse superhero fighting against the supervillains of old. The Lord of the Long Night, Traveler of the Underworld, Lord Necroton himself, as he had been known at the time. With a growl, his father ripped the poster away, tearing it down the middle before throwing it into the lit fireplace.

    ¡°Dad¡ª¡± Terry started, but cut off as the man strode over to the next poster, tearing it down as well before tossing it in the fire beside the Necroton poster.

    Then the next and the next, until Terry¡¯s walls were barren. Heavy, black smoke filled the room and Terry wasn¡¯t sure if his tight throat was from the smoke or the deluge of tears threatening to burst forth.

    He didn¡¯t know what to say as his father followed up the posters with his action figures. He knew he needed to say something, but the connection between his brain and his tongue was severed. It was all he could do to tamp down the sob rising in his chest.

    A minute later, James stormed from the room without a word, his face streaked with black soot and tears. Terry watched him go with a tight chest before throwing himself down onto his bed.

    He finally allowed the dam to break, his still-aching shoulder sending waves of pain through his body with every wracking sob.

    One of the ghouls silently snuffed out the fire, while the other opened the window. A wave of black smoke washed out into the dark sky.

    <hr>

    Days later, Terry stood by his father¡¯s side before his mother¡¯s casket. They still hadn¡¯t spoken and though Terry desperately craved to hug his father and be hugged in turn, he refused to do so until the man apologized.

    So he stood by the open casket in stubborn silence, staring down at his mother¡¯s lifeless face.

    She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life. Full lips, high cheekbones, and a graceful jaw that had made her a superhero icon well before she was Terry¡¯s mother.

    But where her face had once been tanned and full of life, it was now pale and ghastly.

    He felt his father¡¯s presence at his side like a magnetic pull and it distracted him from his grief in a way that irritated him. He almost broke the silence between them to demand his father leave him alone by the casket. But no man¡ªliving or undead¡ªhad ever commanded James Fairway to do anything, except for the Emperor himself. And despite Terry¡¯s simmering rage toward his father and the heavy grief that sat deep in his chest, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to lash out at the man.

    So he stood there in stubborn silence and allowed himself to feel the grief he had been holding back. His throat tightened as he remembered sunbathing by the river with his mother, splashing in the water before air-drying on a rock outcropping. His eyes moistened as he thought back to the week before, when his mother had indulged him and played hero and villain with him in the courtyard.

    Her laugh echoed in his mind and the tears broke free. He bent over the casket and pressed his lips to her forehead, closing his eyes as he breathed in her hair one last time.

    When he stood back up, he gazed down at her and realized that he had smeared the makeup on her face. He reached over with his thumb and wiped away the signs of his tears and the outline of his lips, but he only made it worse. The heavy makeup came away on his thumb, revealing something beneath.

    Underneath the foundation and blush was her exposed skin, a streak of red and white lay there, like a gash cutting down to the bone. He reached out his hand once more to wipe away the makeup and take a better look, when an iron grip wrapped around his wrist.

    He looked up at his father¡¯s face. His expression was pained, streaks of tears cutting divots down his cheeks. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. Then, maintaining his grip on Terry¡¯s wrist, used his other hand to smear the makeup back into place. What had looked like a deep gash was now simple makeup once again.

    Before Terry could question his father¡ªcold shoulder or not¡ªa rush of movement erupted by the door. He turned to see two dozen ghouls file in, forming two lines leading toward the casket. Their unnaturally lithe bodies were bent at the waist, their eyes cast to the carpet.

    Following them were two hulking patchworks. They stood nearly ten feet tall and were as wide as a car. Their limbs were stitched together from various undead parts and they wore black steel masks over their faces. The smell of their half-rotten flesh invaded the viewing room, nearly gagging him. But that, Terry didn¡¯t mind. What set his teeth grinding was the aura of indifference they projected, like this was any old court appearance. Unlike the ghouls, they didn¡¯t bow or show deference to his mother. They simply strode into the throne room.

    He would have considered yelling at them to get out, if not for the man behind them.

    Standing in the doorway was his grandfather in full superhero regalia. His face was covered by his bone mask, his ember eyes blazing in the open sockets. He wore his set of bone armor, though his scythe lay strapped to his back rather than clutched in his hands.

    The memory of that scythe passing through Savage with contemptuous ease played over and over again in his mind. He wasn¡¯t comforted by that image¡ªjust the opposite, actually. It terrified him in a way he couldn¡¯t understand. The casual disregard for life, the harvesting of a soul that now languished inside that unnatural weapon. The burning embers of his eyes, lifeless and cold despite the flames. A wave of unnatural terror washed over Terry at the sight of his grandfather.

    This isn¡¯t a man. This is the reaper, whose throne rests upon the bones and trapped souls of his enemies.

    That dissociation crystallized in his thoughts and for the first time in his life, he considered the Emperor strolling down the aisle as just that¡ªthe Emperor. Not grandfather, not his father¡¯s father, but the super who ruled the city with an iron fist. The super who commanded the unliving and the living with equal parts brutality and coldness.

    As if giving life to his thoughts, five men and women came into view behind the Emperor. No, former men and women.

    The Emperor¡¯s revenants bore all the hallmarks of being human¡ªnormal hair, clothes, and wrinkles marring their flesh to signify that they had once been living. The only indications that they no longer lived and breathed like him was the pale, bloodless skin that spoke of a lack of circulation and the stillness of their chests that reminded him more of a ghoul than a person.

    He had once feared the revenants, zeroing in on all the traits that set them apart from the other supers he so admired. But over the years, some of them had become his greatest friends and frequent tutors. His eyes locked on Nick Halleck¡ªWhipvine as he was known to most¡ªand the man flashed him a sad smile, the scars on his face stretching gruesomely in a way that would have once sent him crying to his mother. Now, he felt comforted by his friend¡¯s war-torn features, longing instead to run into the man¡¯s arms now that he felt so distant from his father. But he wasn¡¯t so cruel or so grief-stricken as to embarrass his father and himself like that. Instead, he returned Whipvine¡¯s ugly smile with a nod.

    Behind the Emperor, the other revenants were in moods as eclectic as their appearances. Cillian Fletcher¡ªaka War Crimes¡ªwas in full tactical gear, a pistol on his hip and a rifle slung behind his back. He was young, blond hair cut short with piercing blue eyes that seemed to twinkle like he was in on a joke that no one else could hear. Beside him, in stark contrast, stood the Professor in stereotypical tweed, patched elbows, and twice-broken glasses hanging on for dear life on the edge of her nose. It was unclear to him if these were affectations of her costume or if the woman really dressed like this, even at funerals. He didn¡¯t know her that well and she had rigidly maintained distance and professionalism in his presence, as opposed to Whipvine¡¯s boisterous familiarity. Across from her was Sebastian Vatal¡ªaka Mesmer¡ªanother tutor of Terry¡¯s and one he considered a friend. Mesmer was much older than the other revenants, indicative of Awakening late in life¡ªwhich meant that he was even older than he appeared¡ªone of the Originals, like the Emperor. He also sent Terry a sad look, though it was lacking the exuberant charm of Whipvine¡¯s dancing scars.

    The fifth and final revenant of his grandfather¡¯s coterie was a hard-bitten woman with leathery skin and a permanent scowl. Patricia¡ªaka the Iron Maiden¡ªwas a Catalyst who could manipulate metal by touch. She was a nasty former supervillain notorious for disregarding collateral damage during her time among the living. Terry had personally watched the video of her collapsing a skyscraper in Dallas before her capture by a coalition of supers, including his grandfather. He¡¯d been forced to shut the video off midway and still dealt with nightmares for weeks. His mother had shot dark looks toward Patricia for even longer. She was affectionately known on the web and HeroWatch as the Iron Bitch and Terry had even heard his mother refer to her as such when she didn¡¯t know he was listening.

    The five revenants assembled behind the Emperor, but didn¡¯t proceed into the room. Instead, they lingered at the entrance as if expecting one more person. Mesmer glanced behind him with a worried expression, turning back to examine Terry for a moment before looking away. Whipvine¡¯s expression was less concerned and more furious.

    Terry caught the man¡¯s eye and furrowed his brow in question, but Whipvine just shook his head.

    A moment later, he understood why.

    A sixth revenant appeared behind the rest, seven feet tall and covered in burnt-orange fur.

    A fist clenched Terry¡¯s gut, twisting it inside him until he thought he might puke. His father¡¯s hand gripped his shoulder and he felt it anchor him despite everything.

    Savage took his position beside the Iron Maiden, returning Whipvine¡¯s hateful stare with a lopsided smirk. The bestial super scanned the others, then saw Terry staring at him open-mouthed. Savage¡¯s smile twisted into a snarl, exposing fangs that crept from their gum sheaths in quiet threat. James pulled Terry away, turning the boy toward his mother¡¯s peaceful face.

    The coolness of her pale skin shocked him from his instinctive terror and his anger flashed hot once more. Not toward Savage, who was now a thrall to the Emperor, but toward his father. He shrugged off the man¡¯s hand, taking a step away to create distance.

    ¡°Terry,¡± his father whispered, the pain ringing clear in his voice.

    But the pain couldn¡¯t touch him, not on his island. Nothing would touch him here.

    ¡°You should have warned me,¡± he hissed back, not even sparing his father a glance.

    That was all he would give the man. Let him seep in that, knowing that he was failing as a father¡ªjust as he had failed as a husband to protect Terry¡¯s mother.

    The Emperor strode into the throne room, killing any chance for James to react. Terry could feel the naked desire in his father to bridge the looming divide, but his mother¡¯s dead face stared back at him and he couldn¡¯t make himself care about the man¡¯s feelings. Not right now.

    When the Emperor and his revenants passed by him and climbed the dais to his throne, Terry inclined his head in respect, but felt none of the filial love he had harbored from before. It was like a switch had been flipped that he couldn¡¯t flip back. He wanted to¡ªit would be so much easier to lean on his surviving family, his father, his grandfather. He just¡­couldn¡¯t.

    The Emperor passed his scythe to one of the ghouls at his side, then turned to sit on his raised throne. His six revenants followed behind him, arraying with three on either side. Whipvine, Iron Maiden, and the Professor on one side, while War Crimes, Mesmer, and Savage took the other.

    Once he and his revenants were settled, the Emperor waved his hand imperiously.

    ¡°Begin.¡±

    The undead servants rushed to the door and began ushering in those who had been patiently waiting outside. Slowly, the trickle of human and undead filed into the throne room to get in line. Though Terry understood they were here to pay their respects to his mother, he inexplicably found himself loathing them all.

    And not just the viewers, but the man at his side and the Emperor sitting above them all on his throne.

    He let his father usher him to a nearby seat, but he felt the change as clear as day. He stood resolute on that island in his mind, the connections he had previously felt to his father and grandfather severed as if the Emperor¡¯s blackwood scythe had sliced that invisible thread forever.

    He squirmed as the sycophants and attention-seekers wept and wailed over the corpse of his mother, hating them more and more with every breath. The impotent anger inside him dominated his thoughts. He wanted to lash out, berate and scold each and every last one of them.

    And then, a moment of clarity struck him like a single, perfect chord. He made a decision in that moment, deep within his heart. One that he wouldn¡¯t violate no matter how deep his hatred went.

    They would never see his hate, or his sadness, or his anger.

    He would give them nothing.

 Chapter 3: An Unlikely Friendship

    Later that evening, his mother¡¯s body was paraded out to the masses. Night had reigned over Wichita for nearly a week and Terry wondered if he¡¯d ever see the sun again. The fog cloyed heavy to the streets and large floodlights fought to illuminate the procession.

    He considered asking his father when the sun would return, but couldn¡¯t bring himself to break the heavy silence between them.

    The Emperor¡¯s court, along with Terry and his father, observed from the palace promenade as an honor guard of living and unliving escorted the open casket down the boulevard cutting in front of the palace.

    Where those of the court had grieved extravagantly, almost theatrically, in order to garner attention and one-up their rivals with their display, the common citizens watched the procession stoically. They bowed their heads in solemn respect and tossed white roses¡ªhis mother¡¯s superhero symbol¡ªon the street and the casket as it passed.

    A loud cry suddenly went up from the crowd below, echoing up to the promenade with an ethereal quality.

    ¡°Long live the White Rose! Long live the White Rose!¡±

    The somber crowd burst to life and took up the chant.

    Only when the casket passed, turning down a corner and out of sight, did the chants falter, then finally extinguish. The crowd began to murmur restlessly, lost expressions on their faces.

    Among the distant relatives and court officials on the promenade, it was impossible for Terry not to notice the uncomfortable shifting of feet and the awkward glances cast toward the Emperor. In their efforts to win his attention, they struggled to gauge how they should react. To them, Terry¡¯s mother had always been an outsider, an interloper coming to claim their rightful dues.

    But to the common people, she had been a beacon of light, now snuffed out against the backdrop of a seemingly-eternal night.

    I will be that beacon of light, Terry promised. I will pick up the mantle my mother was forced to drop in death. Not now, maybe, but I will¡­I swear it.

    Slowly, the crowd filtered away, drawn back to their homes by the unnatural fog that whispered of death and the Underworld.

    <hr>

    The next morning, Terry woke to the sound of bells tolling through the open window. He didn¡¯t know when he had fallen asleep, only that the pealing tone echoing throughout the city signaled the morning.

    He rolled over with a groan, wrapping his pillow around his ears to drown out the noise. A sodden wet patch pressed against his neck and he threw away the wet pillow with a groan.

    When he looked out the open window, he was momentarily taken aback by how dark it was outside. The morning bells should have brought the sun¡ª

    Realization dawned on him and his stomach dropped. For a moment¡ªthe briefest moment¡ªhe had forgotten about Sol¡¯s attack and the Emperor¡¯s response. He had forgotten about his mother¡¯s death.

    How could I forget?

    He was a terrible person. What kind of son could forget their mother¡¯s death only a week later¡ªeven for a moment? He had been too annoyed that the morning bell had woken him up to remember what had happened.

    With a shout, he threw his other pillow against the wall. He wanted to hit something, throw something that would break, do damage. He eyed his computer, every ounce of his being demanding that he throw it out the window.

    What did he need video games for? His mother was dead.

    And then he thought about how she would have reacted if she saw him take out his frustration on expensive items. That disappointed pursing of her lips, the subtle arch of her brow.

    His anger evaporated in an instant, replaced with a bone-deep sadness. His chest ached with longing.

    To see her, just one more time¡­

    His eyes went wide as an idea came to him suddenly. He rushed to the computer, not bothering to sit down as he frantically typed in the search bar.

    <blockquote>

    White Rose superhero

    </blockquote>

    He left the query open-ended, not sure exactly what would come up. He hit enter and the search results populated a moment later. Video after video featuring his mother appeared on his screen and his throat tightened.

    He closed the search window with a forceful click. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to see her¡­not yet.

    Turning away from the screen, he jumped in surprise as he noticed the two ghoul bodyguards standing by his door. They were intently staring at the far wall, their eyes glued to a single spot. He vaguely recognized these particular ghouls, though their species in general tended to be difficult to differentiate to humans.

    But a lifetime among the unliving had given Terry some tricks to tell them apart. These ghouls were ones that he saw in his grandfather¡¯s court regularly¡ªelites among their caste. The one on the left had a distinct red and black marbling on his arm, and Terry had mentally identified him as Bloodstain, because of the way the coloring looked like a bleeding wound. The one on the right was unusually dark-skinned for a ghoul, the shade of its skin edging towards a purplish-red¡ªburgundy, his mother had once informed him¡ªwhereas most ghouls had a blood-red coloring.

    Terry had very originally dubbed him Burgundy.

    ¡°Did you weirdos watch me sleep?¡± he asked with crossed arms.

    The ghoul on the left¡ªBloodstain¡ªanswered with a slight bow. His tone was clipped, but he was able to enunciate much better than Crunch ever had. ¡°We were instructed by Emperor not let out of sight.¡±

    His brow furrowed. ¡°We¡¯re safe here¡­aren¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°Of course, my prince,¡± Bloodstain replied.

    He thought about arguing. If they were safe, why did he need two ghouls watching him while he slept? But there was no point. If his grandfather ordered it, then it was done.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t help but feel awkward in his own room, the two ghouls only feet away as he considered what to do with his free time. His tutoring sessions were canceled for now and normally, he might have turned on a video game or finished painting one of his superhero figures. But none of that mattered now. He felt both restless and incapable of doing anything that brought him joy from¡­before.

    As he eyed his computer distractedly, the two ghouls began whispering to each other in ghoulish. His ears perked up, but he pretended to fiddle with his computer screen while he strained to hear.

    [¡­tell¡­him¡­] Burgundy whispered.

    [We must¡­]

    [¡­will not¡­happy]

    Though he¡¯d lived among the ghouls his entire life, his ear for ghoulish was sub par. He turned to look at them, but their eyes were still glued to the far wall. They stood stock still as if they hadn¡¯t just been whispering.

    ¡°What are you two whispering about? Something you wanted to tell me?¡±

    Their eyes didn¡¯t even flicker as he addressed them. He crossed his arms and sat back against his desk.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna ignore me now?¡± he asked wryly.

    Burgundy twitched, then began whispering in ghoulish to Bloodstain. The other ghoul whirled on his partner and began speaking in a scolding tone¡ªat least, that¡¯s what Terry thought it was. Whatever it was they were saying, his patience was gone.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Spit it out,¡± he demanded.

    Bloodstain turned back to Terry and bowed deeply. Waist still bent, his grating voice filled the room.

    ¡°This one,¡± he said with a wave toward Burgundy, ¡°suggested you want know some information. While agree, not servant¡¯s place to say.¡±

    Terry sat up from the edge of the desk, his interest sparked. ¡°Information? About what? Go ahead, you can tell me.¡±

    Bloodstain was still bowed at the waist, but Terry couldn¡¯t miss the subtle flick of the ghoul¡¯s eyes toward his partner.

    ¡°It about your bonded servant¡ª¡±

    ¡°Crunch?¡± Terry rushed over to the ghouls, pulling Bloodstain up from his bow. ¡°What about him? Is he okay?¡± He felt his throat catch as he remembered the ghoul shielding him with his body.

    How had he forgotten about Crunch? That settled it, he was a terrible person.

    Bloodstain hesitated, his jagged teeth quietly grinding as Terry stared into his eyes. After a moment, the ghoul looked to his partner and Terry had the impression they were in an uncomfortable position.

    ¡°Please,¡± he said, grabbing onto Bloodstain¡¯s arm. ¡°I need to know. Is he¡ªDid he¡­?¡± The thought of his friend dying to save him was too difficult to put into words.

    I can¡¯t lose anyone else¡­

    When it was obvious Bloodstain didn¡¯t want to answer, Burgundy bowed his head. ¡°That one is¡­evolving¡­¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide, then narrowed.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°That one badly maimed,¡± Bloodstain interjected quickly. ¡°It decided he better serve¡ª¡±

    ¡°Take me there at once!¡± he demanded, using his best impersonation of his father¡¯s tone. His voice squeaked in an undignified manner and his skin flushed with doubt. But the undead were conditioned to following orders and didn¡¯t balk at his demand.

    ¡°Yes, my prince.¡±

    <hr>

    He strode through the lower depths of the catacombs filled with a fury that burned away thoughts of his mother, Sol, or the eternal night that extended over the city.

    They were going to recycle Crunch! After he saved my life!

    The living and the unliving servants alike sensed his mood as he passed them. He had rarely walked the halls of the palace without his parents, whose presence tended to overshadow his own. And he had preferred it that way; he was much more comfortable in their shadow than casting his own light.

    That wasn¡¯t his reality anymore and he was still coming to terms with it. His mother was gone and he wasn¡¯t speaking to his father. It was time to forge his own path.

    So he sped through the hallways with the expectation that anyone not named Fairway would scurry out of his way.

    Which they did.

    Not that he enjoyed the feeling of instilling fear or anxiety in those who served faithfully. But this was Crunch¡¯s life hanging in the balance. Weighing that against someone¡¯s feelings was no contest at all.

    When he arrived outside the ¡®Evolution Chamber¡¯ as it was officially called, he was met with two slabs of towering meat standing on either side of the door leading into the chamber.

    ¡°Move,¡± he said. Then, because he was uncomfortable being rude, even to undead servants who were generally oblivious to tone, he added quietly, ¡°¡­please.¡±

    The slabs of meat in question were the hulking undead known colloquially as patches. They were crafted from the discarded parts of both human and undead, and imbued with a wraith formed from the fallout of a distant war. They were twice as tall as Terry and just as wide. He remembered these undead hulks from his mother¡¯s casket viewing, but had never interacted with them personally. As far as he knew, they mostly stayed in the catacombs except for certain occasions.

    Probably because they smelled bad. Like, really bad.

    His eyes were facing forward, waiting expectantly for the patches to step aside. When it became clear that they had no intention of doing so, Terry took a handful of steps back so he could gain the appropriate leverage to look up into their eyes.

    ¡°I said, please move.¡±

    Their faces were covered in black, steel masks¡ªto shield the identity of their donor¡¯s face, perhaps¡ªso all Terry could see were their eyes. They were mismatched, as if they had been taken from four different people. The hulk on the left had one brown eye and one blue eye. The other had a hazel-green eye and a blue eye.

    Did they take a set of blue eyes and split them between the two? That seems¡­wrong. Like separating twins at birth.

    But his idle thoughts drifted away as those four mismatched eyes set upon him. They were too small for their bodies and would have been funny looking if they weren¡¯t so intimidating.

    He found himself taking a half-step back as they regarded him silently.

    At his side, he felt Bloodstain step forward.

    ¡°Your prince give order¡ª¡±

    Terry cut the ghoul off with a raised hand. Something niggled at the back of his mind¡ªsome feeling or premonition. Though his interactions with the patchwork caste of undead were limited, he could feel some subtle expression of their thoughts¡ªwas that their auras? he wondered briefly.

    Whatever it was, one thing was clear: they were not impressed.

    ¡°Listen, I¡ª¡± He faltered, unsure how to proceed. A part of him wished that he had just let Bloodstain handle the situation for him. The undead guards wouldn¡¯t have an open brawl in the palace catacombs and no matter how icy the patchworks acted, they would never harm the Emperor¡¯s grandson. They would let him through, eventually. But would it be in time? What if the liches were dismembering Crunch right now¡ªor whatever it was they did in the Evolution Chamber? ¡°That ghoul in there, the one about to be recyc¡ªuh, evolved. He¡¯s a friend. I know the unliving believe strongly in community, sacrificing themselves willingly for the larger group. And I know that a damaged ghoul would better serve the Emperor through evolution¡­but I just lost my mother and¡­¡±

    I can¡¯t lose my friend, too.

    A voice sounded from down the hall, grating on his ears like two blades scraping against each other.

    ¡°My prince? Why you here?¡±

    Terry whirled around to see Crunch standing at the end of the hall, flanked by two liches. He was missing an arm at the shoulder and his left eye was still covered by melted skin. But Terry would have recognized the ghoul just by his grating voice.

    ¡°Crunch?¡± he cried, racing past Bloodstain toward the ghoul. He closed the distance in a flash, throwing his arms around the undead¡¯s waist. Crunch seemed unsure how to react at first, then awkwardly patted him on the head.

    It wasn¡¯t exactly a hug, but it was the closest physical contact he¡¯d experienced since his mother¡¯s death.

    After a moment, Crunch delicately extracted Terry from around his waist, though the boy could tell that Crunch was happy to see him.

    ¡°This one honored, my prince,¡± the ghoul said in halting English. ¡°But should not be here.¡± He cast a reproachful look toward Bloodstain and Burgundy that made Terry furrow his brow.

    ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± He crossed his arms and scowled, mimicking his father¡¯s expression when the man was displeased with the servants.

    ¡°Evolution sad for human¡­prince lose much already.¡±

    ¡°You are not being recycled.¡± Crunch¡¯s single eye blinked at the word. ¡°You¡¯re my friend and I¡¯m not going to let you die.¡±

    The lich on the left spoke up, its voice a sibilant hiss. ¡°We are the unliving, my prince. We do not die. We only evolve into higher life forms or return to the Underworld. For us, that is not death, but a homecoming.¡±

    ¡°Even so.¡± Terry leaned in, lowering his voice despite knowing that the undead in the hall could hear his every word. ¡°I still need you, Crunch.¡±

    ¡°This Blessed has been damaged,¡± the second lich interjected. ¡°His function is compromised.¡± Crunch¡¯s teeth grated together audibly, but he said nothing to dispute the lich¡¯s words. ¡°To better serve the Bonesplinter clan and our protector, the Emperor, he must be repurposed¡ª¡±

    Terry gripped Crunch¡¯s wrist, imploring the ghoul to hear his words. ¡°I need my bodyguard, now more than ever. Your prince needs you. I need you, Crunch. ¡°

    Crunch slowly extricated his arm from Terry¡¯s grip, taking a step back. The boy¡¯s shoulders slumped and he could already hear the ghoul¡¯s polite reasoning as to why he had to be recycled. He was already preparing more reasons for Crunch to stay, but instead of arguing, the ghoul bowed deeply at the waist.

    ¡°As my prince commands.¡±

    <hr>

    With Crunch at his side, he felt a little bit lighter. Not happy¡ªhe couldn¡¯t imagine a time when he would ever be happy again, though plenty of people told him that time healed all wounds¡ªbut there was a slight loosening of his grief, that ball sitting in the center of his chest unclenching ever so subtly.

    That slight relief was shattered when he went down to the dining hall for breakfast.

    The room was bustling with activity. Human servants were coming and going through the kitchen entrance, clearing off plates or refreshing the food on the buffet table against the wall. Seated at the long table dominating the center of the room were at least a dozen of Terry¡¯s distant relatives¡ªand some not so distant.

    At the head of the table sat his Aunt Julia with her two children¡ªMaxina and Marcus¡ªnearby. She was middle-aged, the corners of her eyes just beginning to wrinkle. She possessed the trademark green eyes of the Fairways, but had light auburn hair where his father¡¯s was raven-black. That auburn hair was tied back in a severe bun, pulling the skin of her forehead taut. Supposedly, she had once been a stunning beauty. But next to his mom, she might as well have been a ghoul.

    He had always found her tight features off-putting.

    She wasn¡¯t really his aunt, as her father had been the Emperor¡¯s youngest brother before he died. That made her his father¡¯s cousin, but he had always referred to her as Aunt.

    Which made Maxina and Marcus like his cousins, though they were just young enough that Terry had never played with them growing up¡ªand had never wanted to, really. They were crybabies and were rude to the servants, which he didn¡¯t like.

    But even worse than that, the three of them had been some of the loudest grievers at his mother¡¯s casket viewing, when he knew for stone certain that Aunt Julia had always whispered nasty rumors behind his mother¡¯s back.

    Something about being unpowered had stuck a bone in Aunt Julia¡¯s teeth and she had never forgiven Terry¡¯s mother for that fact. He had even heard rumors that his father and Aunt Julia had been betrothed once upon a time¡­until she failed her Awakening.

    The thought sent shivers up his spine.

    Now, watching the distant relatives all flock around Aunt Julia made him want to throw something. They were acting as if she was replacing Terry¡¯s mother, like she was the princess-apparent. He couldn¡¯t be around them¡ªnot yet. Maybe not ever.

    He backed away, starting to turn, when he finally processed the conversation they were having.

    ¡°I always thought she was a Topeka mole sent by Sol,¡± one of the distant relatives hissed. ¡°Who would have thought she¡¯d die protecting the city?¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± another said with a sarcastic tone. ¡°The little tart got caught in the collateral. She was always leaving Wichita¡ªin the dead of night or in a body bag.¡±

    Blood rushed to Terry¡¯s face and he whirled back, frozen with indecision. A part of him wanted to charge in there and tell his family off. But another part of him recognized that those were his adult relatives. Who was he to scold adults¡ªeven if they were saying vile things?

    He was frozen in the doorway, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

    Am I a coward for not defending my mother¡¯s honor?

    He knew what his mother would say. They¡¯re ignorant and silly. Arguing with ignorance is like yelling into your pillow. It might feel good at first, but did you really accomplish anything?

    He¡¯d just back away. They hadn¡¯t noticed him yet. It wasn¡¯t worth it. Just turn and walk out. No sudden move¡ª

    ¡°Little Terry?¡± a voice called out. ¡°Is that you?¡±

 Chapter 4: The Emperors Revenant

    He was frozen in place, his body vibrating with adrenaline and anxiety. But then he remembered how they had been talking about his mother and a fire ignited in his chest. He eyed Aunt Julia and the others with a cold look.

    The expressions on their faces said it all. How much had he heard?

    He wasn¡¯t strong enough to let them feel his anger. The confrontation sounded both exhausting and terrifying. And even if he were, his promise echoed in his mind. He wouldn¡¯t give them the satisfaction.

    Forcing his lips out wide in some semblance of a smile, he replied, ¡°Hi, Aunt Julia.¡± His body felt stuck at the threshold into the dining room. Common decorum suggested he should grab breakfast from the assembled buffet and sit with his family.

    Common sense screamed at him to whip around and sprint out of the room.

    In the end, he found his feet moving forward of their own accord and he reluctantly accepted his fate. As he strode to the array of food, Crunch followed him in, only a half-step behind. Bloodstain and Burgundy trailed at the door, but had deferred to Crunch since Terry had rescued him from recycling.

    As Terry reached for a plate, a shocked gasp startled him. Turning toward the sound, he saw a half-dozen wide eyes staring toward him. His little cousins¡¯ mouths were wide like saucers, while his aunt¡¯s lip curled up in a scowl. At first, he thought their looks of disgust and shock were directed toward him¡­until he followed their stares and realized it was Crunch that had grabbed their attention.

    ¡°What is that¡­thing doing here?¡± his aunt asked with open disgust.

    Terry pointedly examined Crunch, who was scanning the corners of the room and even went over to the buffet table to glance under the tablecloth¡ªfor what, Terry wasn¡¯t quite sure. The room had no doubt been swept recently by ghouls, and they had passed by a dozen more patrolling the halls on their way up from the catacombs, but Crunch took his duties seriously.

    ¡°It looks like he¡¯s making sure the room is safe,¡± Terry answered with a shrug. He started piling potatoes topped with melted cheese onto his plate. His mouth filled with saliva at the smell and he realized that he hadn¡¯t eaten since the viewing. For some reason, it had felt wrong to eat more than the bare minimum so soon after¡­everything.

    ¡°I can see that. What I mean is: why hasn¡¯t that thing been recycled?¡± she asked, her tone icy.

    The room stilled.

    When Terry glanced up from the buffet table, everyone at the table was glancing between his aunt and him. Then, his eyes tracked over to see her clutching Maxina and Marcus to her chest¡­as if Crunch were dangerous. For some reason, that angered him even more than her tone. The mere suggestion that the ghoul who had saved his life only days prior would somehow go on a rampage in the palace and eat her stupid little brats.

    He purposefully continued piling food onto his plate, afraid that if he looked at his aunt, she¡¯d see his contempt for her.

    ¡°He¡¯s perfectly capable of serving as my bodyguard,¡± Terry replied, scooping a heaping pile of scrambled eggs onto his plate with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to¡ª¡± He stopped himself from using the term recycle, because it felt like piling even more disrespect on top of his aunt¡¯s rude question. Though he didn¡¯t agree with their sense of sacrificing their bodies to their clan, he should at least respect their traditions. ¡°¡ªevolve. I want him with me and he¡¯s agreed.¡±

    ¡°Well, that just won¡¯t do, nephew,¡± she replied with a huff. ¡°You know my uncle¡¯s stance on recycling damaged servants.¡± She snapped her fingers and waved her hand toward the door imperiously. ¡°Ghoul, report to the Evolution Chamber to be recycled.¡±

    Terry¡¯s plate clattered to the table before he could stop himself. He whirled on his aunt and took some small pleasure in the wide-eyed expression on her face.

    ¡°No.¡± His tone was flat.

    Her eyes hardened, narrowing to thin slits as the corners of her lips turned down. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®no,¡¯ young man? You¡¯re a child and I am your elder. This servant is damaged and hideous and scaring my little darlings. It must be recycled!¡± Then she leaned back in her chair, lifting her chin with a haughty expression. ¡°The Emperor¡¯s orders are very clear on the matter.¡±

    Heat rose to his face and his legs trembled. His mind was mired with adrenaline and indecision. Seeing this, his aunt¡¯s face shifted slightly. There was the smallest twitch at the corner of her lip that might have been a smirk. It was the look of someone assured that they were about to get their way.

    He had always treated adults with respect and deference¡ªhad been raised to do so by his own mother. But something about her death made him question things that had once seemed important. Even though it had been important to his mother, he had to wonder: what was the point in treating obviously terrible people with respect?

    He took a deep breath to steady his voice. ¡°I¡¯m not sending Crunch to be recycled,¡± he said with as much confidence he could muster. ¡°My father won¡¯t make me.¡± It sounded childish even to his own ears, but he meant it. If she tried to force the issue, he¡¯d ask¡ªbeg, if needed¡ªhis father to intervene. Even if it meant breaking his pact not to speak to the man until he apologized.

    He thought that would be enough to dissuade her, but her smirk only widened.

    ¡°Your father isn¡¯t in the city,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s gone to invade Topeka.¡±

    That threw Terry off and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, ¡°Father left?¡± Without telling me? he added silently.

    She nodded with obvious glee. ¡°The Emperor, as well.¡± She gently extricated herself from the children on her lap and pushed back her chair. Coming around the table, she approached Terry. Behind her, he could see all the distant relatives watching her approach with equal parts fear and fascination. They were enjoying Julia throwing around her weight, so long as it wasn¡¯t directed at them.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    As she approached, he was reminded of her towering height. She came to a stop in front of him, forcing him to look up. The divide in their adult-child relationship was suddenly vast and insurmountable.

    ¡°As the oldest Fairway left in the palace, it¡¯s my duty to guide the servants and the family.¡± She put a hand on his shoulder that felt the opposite of comforting. ¡°And with your mother gone, it falls on me to fill that role. Now, do as I say, Terry. It¡¯s what your father would want. What your mother would want.¡±

    His whole body trembled. The spot where her hand rested felt red-hot and he wanted to bat it away. More than that, he wanted to hurt his aunt for even mentioning his mother. He wanted to say, she was ten times the woman you are. But the words were stuck in his throat. Despite his rage, he was also intimidated. Who was he to argue with an adult? He may have been a prince, but he was also just a child. The living and the unliving servants would do as she said, with his father and the Emperor out on a campaign.

    Whipvine! He could find Whipvine. The old Duelist would side with him. He loved Terry¡¯s mother and despised Aunt Julia¡ªthe perfect ally. His stomach flipped as he realized the flaw in that reasoning.

    Grandfather¡¯s master-of-arms and arguably strongest revenant wouldn¡¯t stay behind while he marched to war. Father is gone, Whipvine is gone¡­mother is gone¡­

    With no parents and no allies, what could he do?

    He wrestled with these thoughts as his aunt nodded sadly. ¡°Good boy.¡± To Crunch, she waved her hand dismissively. ¡°Report to be recycled.¡±

    He wanted to shove her away. He wanted to shout out, call her all sorts of vile names, and demand that she rescind the order. But his throat tightened and he knew if he tried to speak, she¡¯d hear the cry he was just barely holding back. Breaking down into a crying fit like a baby would only prove her point. Maybe he could excuse himself and intercept Crunch for the second time. Even smuggle him out of the palace to live in the crypts.

    His aunt turned to sit, but paused halfway with narrowed eyes. ¡°I gave you an order, ghoul.¡±

    Terry spun around to see Crunch standing there unmoving. He had joined Bloodstain and Burgundy off to the side and was in the natural resting position the ghouls seemed to prefer¡ªlegs slightly bent, clawed-hands¡ªwell, hand¡ªbehind his back, and single eye forward. He had seen ghouls hold this position for hours without even the slightest twitch.

    But he had never seen one ignore a direct order!

    When he turned back to his aunt, her face was beet red and her nostrils flared. Her severe features that others considered statuesque carried an ugly cast in anger. She stormed up to the ghoul, her back to Terry. With a rough grip on Crunch¡¯s arm, she tried to drag him away. He didn¡¯t resist, but she found herself unable to budge the ghoul.

    With a frustrated noise, she let go of Crunch and ordered once more, ¡°Do as you''re told! Report to recycling!¡± Her voice took on a frantic tone as she added, ¡°You¡¯re scaring my children!¡±

    Terry glanced toward Maxina and Marcus in confusion. Though they had shocked expressions and seemed nervous about the situation, he would imagine it was equal parts Crunch¡¯s appearance and their mother¡¯s outburst that was responsible for their looks.

    Turning to Bloodstain and Burgundy, his aunt shrieked, ¡°Take this ghoul to be recycled. Now!¡±

    A voice spoke from the doorway, and both Terry and his aunt jumped at the ice-cold tone.

    ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡±

    A thin, older man with ghost-white skin stood at the dining room threshold, his wrinkled fingers interlocked in front of his waist. Wisps of gray hair were combed over a mostly-balding scalp. At first sight, it was easy to imagine the old man was weak and impotent. But one glance at the eyes betrayed the hidden power contained within. They swam with a violet light, restrained and languid for the moment.

    Terry hadn¡¯t expected to see one of the Emperor¡¯s revenants left behind as he marched to war, but if any of the undead supers were qualified to hold Wichita together in the Emperor¡¯s absence, it was Mesmer. From HeroWatch, he knew the undead super was a former villain, dabbling in elaborate cons, bank heists, and other acts of villainy. But if the criminal records didn¡¯t exist, he wouldn¡¯t have believed it. The older man was more a grandfather to Terry than the Emperor had ever been and his presence buoyed the boy.

    The former villain swept the room with a piercing intelligence, taking in everything in a single glance; the distant family members studying their plates with sudden and profound interest; the two children staring at their mother with worry; the three ghouls at rigid attention.

    And the Emperor¡¯s niece clutching angrily at Crunch¡¯s arm while Terry stood frozen behind her.

    Aunt Julia was as startled as the rest of them, but recovered the fastest. She released Crunch and turned toward the newcomer.

    ¡°Ah, Mesmer. Just in time. We need the voice of the Emperor.¡± She waved toward Crunch imperiously. ¡°This ghoul¡¯s function has obviously been compromised. He burst into the dining hall, giving everyone a fright. Then he disobeyed a direct¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡± Terry shouted. His pulse hammered in his temple and it took all of his self control not to physically lash out at his aunt. ¡°He was just doing his job¡ª¡±

    ¡°Quiet, boy!¡± she hissed. ¡°Your elders are speaking¡ª¡±

    She cut off instantly as the revenant raised a hand in the air.

    Without saying another word to Terry or his aunt, the revenant turned to the three ghouls and began conversing in rapid fire ghoulish. The ghouls immediately bowed low, while Crunch addressed the revenant¡¯s question.

    He couldn¡¯t follow the response, but he thought he heard the words, ¡®prince¡¯ and ¡®request.¡¯

    When Crunch was done, the revenant turned back to them.

    ¡°I ordered this ghoul to the Evolution Chamber this morning,¡± the revenant said.

    Terry immediately felt his stomach flip. No, I can¡¯t lose Crunch again. I¡¯ll call dad¡ªvia Wraithglass, if needed.

    He prepared to say as much, but something about Mesmer¡¯s expression stayed the argument he had been brewing.

    ¡°He may remain as your guard, young prince.¡± What? He can stay? Terry wanted to pump his fist, but every eye in the room was on him and the revenant¡¯s next words tempered his rising excitement. ¡°For now, anyway. Once the Emperor returns, the decision will lie with him. Understood?¡±

    Terry looked around for a moment before realizing the question was for him.

    ¡°Oh, um, yes¡­uh, thank you, Mesmer.¡±

    The man nodded before turning toward Aunt Julia. ¡°As for you, young lady.¡± Young lady? Terry thought. ¡°Should you have any further issues with our undead friends, you are to come to me first. Are we clear?¡±

    Terry was slightly behind his aunt, so he couldn¡¯t see her expression. But if the tightness in her voice and the trembling in her legs was any indication, she was raging mad. ¡°Yes, Mesmer.¡±

    ¡°Then you may go. Breakfast is finished.¡±

    The scrape of chairs being pushed back filled the room as the family members who had been frozen at the table finally saw their escape. Aunt Julia whipped around to stare at Terry, her eyes wide with unbridled rage. He had to resist taking a step back under that wild stare and a moment later, she stormed away. Gripping her children by the arms, she nearly dragged them out of the room.

    Terry watched everyone filter out of the dining hall until it was just him, the three ghouls, and the revenant. The old man watched the others leave, then turned to Terry.

    After a moment that stretched forever, the revenant inclined his head and spoke. ¡°Apologies for not finding you sooner, Terry. My duties have taken priority since the attack. But know that you can always come find me if you need an ear to bend.¡± He turned to leave, pausing at the door. His voice was whisper quiet. ¡°Your mother will be missed.¡±

    Then he was gone, leaving Terry in frozen silence.

    His mind churned, not quite believing what had just happened. Though he hadn¡¯t been able to stand up to his aunt, a feeling of triumph blossomed in his chest all the same. Crunch was here to stay!

    At least, until the Emperor returned, that was.

 Chapter 5: Learning Ghoulish

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 55:7:3 14:09 local time)

    Solomon Rosenthal (Sol)

    Summary

    Solomon Rosenthal (chosen super moniker: Sol), is an S-ranked Elementalist (confirmed) with an emphasis on electromagnetic radiation. He is a part of the designated (Originals) that first accepted (the Call) in Year 0 (1982 in the pre-super era calendar). He is believed to have been born roughly around Year -30 (1952) though the exact date is unknown (needs citation), making him approximately 88 years of age.

    After returning from his (Capstone Quest) in Year 19, he formed the superhero group, (the Knights of Sol), and is localized around the Free-City of Topeka.

    Powerset

    As an S-ranked Elementalist, Sol exhibits superlative control over his specific element¡ªin this case, electromagnetic radiation, colloquially known as light. In particular, he has been known to condense and absorb light with the capability to express it in both tight beams and powerful explosions.

    It is hypothesized that he transitioned during his (Midmark Quest) from Infuser to Elementalist, which would explain his ability to draw his element into himself before expressing it externally (needs citation).

    + Infuser (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    + Elementalist (C to S)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Leader of (the Knights of Sol) and only officially recognized S-ranked super of Topeka. Maintains a cordial relationship with (the Council) of Kansas City. Openly hostile with the nearby Free-City of Wichita, ruled by (Terrence Fairway/Emperor Necroton).

    Publicly claims to serve as Topeka¡¯s protector against (the Swarm), rogue supers, and the neighboring Free-City of Wichita. When questioned, he has vehemently opposed the suggestion that he is a dictator using his powers to hold sway over the city of Topeka. However, critics have suggested that a more democratic approach, such as that taken by (the Council) of Kansas City would be a more appropriate system of governance.

    Personal Life

    (click to expand)

    Notable Exploits

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    Plate piled high with breakfast potatoes, ham, a second form of potato in hash browns, and a generous serving of scrambled egg, Terry made his way back upstairs to his room. The altercation with his aunt thankfully hadn¡¯t done anything to curb his appetite. If anything, he was hungrier than ever.

    ¡°Can I carry that for you, my prince?¡± Bloodstain offered.

    Terry stopped in place, turned to regard the ghoul with raised eyebrows, then shook his head with a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly capable of carrying my own breakfast plate.¡± He turned to continue walking, then paused. Looking back over his shoulder, he added with a chagrined look, ¡°Thanks anyway.¡±

    Bloodstain nodded and they continued on.

    When they arrived at his room, he paused in the doorway, a bit shocked by the state of his bedroom.

    Soot stains climbed the mantle leading from the fireplace and the remnant smell of burnt plastic lingered in the air, stinging his nostrils. But that wasn¡¯t what had drawn his attention.

    The walls are so bare¡­

    He couldn¡¯t remember a time when he didn¡¯t have his posters on the walls and his action figures lining the desk and windowsill. Necroton, Sol, Siren¡ªeven his mother¡ªhad lined his walls only last week. He had always been proud of his family, the supers who had carved out their own kingdom. And his mom had been a universally loved superhero and one of his idols. The Siren poster, he had put up for boyish reasons that now felt silly. No, worse than that, it now felt treasonous to the memory of his mother that he had ever had a crush on Siren.

    He sighed at the thought, plopping his plate onto his desk with an indifferent attitude. Though his stomach ached from hunger, it was what he deserved. Why should he get to stuff his belly when his mom was dead? When his dad was at war? If he couldn¡¯t join them in death or battle, then he¡¯d suffer to himself.

    He swiveled his computer chair out and sank into it, staring blankly at the scorch mark above the fireplace.

    Crunch made a noise, sort of like clearing his throat¡ªif his throat had pieces of glass crunching together from the movement.

    ¡°You eat, my prince.¡±

    Terry sank deeper into his chair, his head craning back to rest against the top as he stared at the ceiling.

    ¡°How can I?¡± he asked. ¡°How can I enjoy a meal with my mom dead? With my grandfather and my father on their way to risk their lives? Invading my mom¡¯s childhood home?¡±

    A grating snap of teeth intermingled with guttural sounds sounded in the room. Terry perked up to see Crunch talking to Bloodstain and Burgundy in their native tongue. He strained his ears, his brain slow to translate the bizarre language.

    Stand outside? No, not stand¡­attend, maybe?

    Bloodstain flicked his eyes over to Terry, then replied in the same tongue, his teeth snapping against each other as he spoke. He pitched his voice low so Terry couldn¡¯t decipher his words.

    After a few back and forths, Terry¡¯s self loathing was replaced by annoyance.

    ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± he demanded.

    Bloodstain took a step back and stood at attention while Crunch turned to Terry. He opened his mouth to reply, then growled softly with frustration. To Bloodstain, he said, [Translate please.]

    Crunch¡¯s English had always been a bit lacking.

    Bloodstain stepped forward and bowed before speaking in decent, if accented, English.

    ¡°This one,¡± Bloodstain started with a wave toward Crunch, ¡°suggested prince¡¯s two servants attend outside so can be alone. Your servant informed Emperor¡¯s orders no let out of sight. This one said too¡­¡± He turned to Burgundy, saying a ghoulish term Terry didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°Stiff? No. Rigid?¡± Burgundy added.

    ¡°Literal?¡± Terry supplied.

    ¡°Yes. Literal. Your servant agreed possible. Asked capable to protect prince alone. No arm, see? Prince ask translation.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Terry said with a slight chuckle. ¡°Crunch is perfectly capable of protecting me in the confines of my own room. Please stand guard outside my door.¡± They seemed to hesitate, the tips of their claws extending and retracting. Terry understood it as a nervous tic and not the threat it might appear to be. ¡°If anything happens, I¡¯ll scream for help. You said we were safe inside the palace¡­right?¡±

    They seemed to mull his words over for a moment, then came to some silent agreement. The two ghouls bowed and left the room without so much as a word.

    ¡°Crunch?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my prince?¡±

    ¡°Will you help me with ghoulish? Your people are the backbone of my grandfather¡¯s military. I should at least be able to converse with you in your own language.¡±

    Crunch inclined his head. ¡°The language difficult for [human tongue].¡± He peeled back his lips, revealing rows of jagged teeth. ¡°Not enough.¡±

    Terry¡¯s brow furrowed, then relaxed as a smile formed. ¡°Not enough teeth? My father and Mesmer seem to manage.¡±

    ¡°Tens of years practice.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°You mean decades. Decades of practice.¡± He snapped, then held up a finger. ¡°I have an idea. I¡¯ll help you with English and you help me with ghoulish. How¡¯s that sound?¡±

    The ghoul¡¯s teeth ground together. Terry knew it was a sign of thoughtfulness, rather than annoyance.

    ¡°Suggestion.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    ¡°Yes, teach Eng-Engli-[human] language. Crunch teach aura first. Ghoulish [advanced].¡±

    ¡°Aura? Why?¡± Of course, Terry had some basic understanding of auras. But it wasn¡¯t something typically taught until after an Awakening. Most couldn¡¯t even feel auras except as vague sensations nearly indistinguishable from gut feelings.

    Crunch¡¯s lips peeled back in a ghoulish smile. ¡°Auras everything. Speak with auras.¡±

    He perked up in his chair.  Like a secret language?  He found his curiosity sparked, an excitement filling his body that he hadn¡¯t felt in what seemed like years.

    ¡°Does the Emperor know how to?¡± he asked. ¡°Speak with auras, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Obvious.¡±

    He raised his eyebrows at Crunch¡¯s sarcastic tone. ¡°You mean, ¡®obviously.¡¯¡±

    Crunch inclined his head. ¡°Emperor know¡­obviously.¡±

    Terry chuckled, then leaned forward, his body vibrating with excitement.

    ¡°Teach me everything.¡±

    <hr>

    Turned out that sensing auras for a normie was incredibly difficult. Terry hadn¡¯t even been able to sense Crunch¡¯s aura, let alone read the subtle shifts that were meant to be interpreted. He had asked to jump straight to ghoulish, since  that  he had already made some headway learning. But according to Crunch, the spoken component was only a piece; mastery of the undead languages originated from aura manipulation.

    In Crunch¡¯s words: ¡°Ghoulish before aura, like write before speak.¡±

    Apparently, all the nuance of emotion and meaning was layered through an undead¡¯s aura.

    After an hour of instruction, his brain felt muddled and he couldn¡¯t confidently say he had taken even a single step forward. But he wasn¡¯t discouraged. Aura control was inherently an undead and super phenomenon; there would be plenty of hurdles for a normie like him. But to be able to communicate natively with the creatures responsible for his safety, and the safety of the royal family¡ªthe entire city, really¡ªwas worth it.

    If only it wasn¡¯t so dang hard!

    When Crunch suggested they take a break for the day, Terry was relieved. There had been something in the back of his mind distracting him, and the ghoul had picked up on it.

    ¡°Your thoughts heavy,¡± Crunch said. ¡°Talk to servant?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Terry replied with a smile. Crunch nodded, turning to retreat to the door, when Terry quickly added, ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t mind complaining to a friend.¡±

    The ghoul paused mid-step, his expression inscrutable. From his hesitation, Terry felt that Crunch needed him to be less subtle.

    ¡°I mean you, Crunch. You¡¯re my friend, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The ghoul turned back and bowed deeply. ¡°I am what prince needs.¡±

    Terry snorted and shook his head. ¡°Fine, Crunch. I need a friend¡­¡± It felt pathetic leaving his mouth, but it was true. With his mother dead, his father gone, and no kids his age in the palace, he felt stranded on his island surrounded in a sea of grief.

    ¡°I serve. Your friend listens.¡± Crunch stood at attention, his eyes boring into Terry with an uncanny stillness.

    He mulled over his next words. Declaring his friendship was one thing, but Terry was no fool. Crunch¡¯s loyalty was to his grandfather first and foremost. Still, he had to get this off his chest.

    ¡°Why did my grandfather go? Why did my father¡­¡± He trailed off, his chest tightening. He had been about to say:  why did my father leave me?  like he was some child¡ªwhich he was, but that didn¡¯t make the words feel any less pathetic. ¡°Why did my father go?¡±

    Crunch¡¯s single eye blinked slowly and he didn¡¯t reply for a moment. Then, ¡°You think best to stay? Sol dead. Topeka weak.¡±

    Terry was taken aback by the ghoul¡¯s frank tone. ¡°I-well¡­I guess not¡­¡±

    ¡°Then father stay? When Emperor go war?¡±

    Terry turned away, the heat rushing to his face. ¡°Well, no. But he could have at least said goodbye.¡± He hated the whine in his voice.

    ¡°Maybe hard?¡± Crunch suggested, his gravelly voice contrasting with the gentleness of his tone. ¡°Maybe grieve mother by fight?¡±

    Terry whirled back to face the ghoul. ¡°And what about me? I¡¯m grieving, too! And my only company isn¡¯t even human!¡± He cringed as the words left his mouth and he spoke quickly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Crunch. I didn¡¯t mean that.¡±

    Crunch waved his only hand toward the bed across from Terry. ¡°Sit?¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. He¡¯d never seen one of the undead guards sitting¡ªdidn¡¯t think they enjoyed the activity, to be honest. But it felt like an olive branch, a breaking down of a wall between the two of them.

    ¡°Please!¡± he said, a touch too eagerly.

    Crunch sat on the corner, his posture upright, even tense, to Terry¡¯s eyes. Though, he had also never seen a ghoul relax, now that he thought about it.

    ¡°Friend, right?¡± Crunch asked.

    Terry smiled. ¡°Obvious.¡±

    ¡°Friend tell story. Yes?¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open for a split second, before he realized how ridiculous he must have looked and he quickly shut it. He nodded, leaning in to better understand the ghoul¡¯s grating voice.

    ¡°When young, fresh from pits, Bonesplinter clan almost gone. But me no thoughts. Only hunger.¡±

    Terry chewed his lip, running the words through his mind. ¡°When you were born, your clan was almost extinct? But you didn¡¯t care? You were just hungry?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± He glanced out the window, a distant look in his lone eye. ¡°Grandfather come. Promise free. Promise food. Save Bonesplinter. Protect Bonesplinter. Bonesplinter never forget.¡±

    Terry leaned back. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s why you call him the Protector. Because he saved your clan and brought you to Earth?¡±

    ¡°Never forget,¡± Crunch repeated. ¡°Even when all become ash.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind churned those words over, like a plow cutting through soil.  Ash?  What did he mean by that?

    ¡°I¡¯m not following,¡± he replied after a moment.

    Crunch¡¯s teeth gnashed together as he considered his words.

    ¡°New spawn not like Crunch. No hunger. No loss. No flee home. No understand.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Crunch. I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but¡­what does this have to do with my grandfather invading Topeka?¡±

    The ghoul nodded as if it was expected for Terry to be confused.

    ¡°Emperor understand thing all leader know.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡°Hunger bigger than loyalty. Food everything¡ªundead or no.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Terry was wondering if he was an idiot, or if Crunch was being deliberately vague. ¡°I¡¯m still not seeing the connection.¡±

    ¡°You see farm? Soil dead from Sol.¡± Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°No life for tens¡ªfor decades. Even yes, no sun. No sun, no food.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯ll dispel the darkness¡­right? I mean, he summoned it, so he can remove it.¡±

    Crunch shook his head. ¡°Think¡­no. Smell of Underworld. Smell of home.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t imagine living in night¡­forever. No sun. No day-night cycle. He¡¯d go insane! But that wasn¡¯t the point Crunch had been angling toward, he knew.

    ¡°Our fields are scorched and our land has no sun¡­but Topeka has fields and they have sun.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s why my father and the Emperor are rushing to take over Sol¡¯s land. Without it, the living and unliving will go hungry. And you think they¡¯ll rebel against the Emperor¡¯s rule?¡±

    Crunch tilted his head, his single eye regarding Terry calmly.

    ¡°Obvious.¡±

 Chapter 6: Necrotalk Forums

    Despite Crunch¡¯s near-constant presence, loneliness still managed to creep its way in. He and his father had left things¡­well, not great before he¡¯d gone off to invade Topeka. And even if Terry was still miffed the man had left without a word, he couldn¡¯t deny it, he missed him.

    He woke up with a bug in his brain, a buzzing need to see his father¡ªeven just digitally. He knew it wouldn¡¯t hurt as bad as seeing his mother and maybe it would scratch the itch of loneliness infecting his thoughts. Throwing his covers off, he glanced over to see Burgundy standing just inside his door, the ghoul¡¯s attention pointedly fixated on the wall.

    ¡°Morning, Burg,¡± Terry called over as he went to his computer. He had started openly referring to his regular ghoul bodyguards by the nicknames he had picked out. He had given learning their native names a fair effort, but had only managed to butcher them entirely. Crunch had let him know that they didn¡¯t mind the nicknames, anyway.

    ¡°Good morning, my prince.¡±

    ¡°Did I do anything interesting while I slept?¡± he asked casually as his computer booted up.

    ¡°You have nightmares,¡± Burgundy replied, his eyes still glued to the far wall.

    Nightmares? He didn¡¯t recall having any nightmares. Granted, he didn¡¯t exactly feel well rested, but he assumed that was just natural tiredness.

    ¡°Huh, weird,¡± he said. Turning his attention to his computer, he opened a search page and typed in his father¡¯s name. The search results populated with a series of news articles about the Free-City of Wichita¡¯s counter-invasion of Sol¡¯s Topeka. The first article showed a picture of the Emperor, with Terry¡¯s father at his side.

    Unfortunately, his father was in full super armor¡ªa set of personally crafted bone armor similar to the Emperor¡¯s. Even his face was covered with a bone mask that blocked everything except his eyes. Unlike the Emperor, his father¡¯s eyes were not two glowing red embers, but simply his father¡¯s eyes. Still, it didn¡¯t exactly fill the hole in his chest, so he continued searching.

    It turned out that his father had almost no images on the web. Unlike his mom, who had had an entire superhero career before marrying his father, the Commander of the Unliving Legions had always been the Emperor¡¯s subordinate and was mostly pictured in full regalia¡ªmask and all.

    But he did find one picture of his father unmasked. It was an engagement announcement between the prince of Wichita and the superhero icon, the White Rose herself. His father¡ªmuch younger¡ªwas standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his mom in her superhero costume. In the picture, he was staring at Terry¡¯s mom, a clear longing in his eyes. His mom, in contrast, looked unhappy to be there.

    He studied the picture for minutes, trying to read between the lines of her guarded expression. For as long as he could remember, his parents had been madly in love. Sickeningly so, in fact. To see her distant expression at their engagement announcement made him wonder if what he knew of his parents was simply what they had allowed him to see. Had there been fissures in their relationship that they kept from him?

    But a memory flashed in his mind. A memory of his father a few days ago, leaning heavily against Terry¡¯s desk, sobs wracking his body. There was no mistaking his father¡¯s love for his mom. He scolded himself for the thought.

    Returning to the search bar, he typed in ¡®White Rose.¡¯ More articles populated, along with a dozen images of his mom¡ªboth in costume and in regular clothes. Her smiling face seemed to be looking right at him and he felt his throat tighten.

    One of the top results was an article about Sol¡¯s attack, Emperor Necroton¡¯s response, and the death of the White Rose. Though his heart physically hurt, he clicked on the link.

    The article was basic, running through the sequence of events, but glossing over the death of his mom. All it said was that Siren and the White Rose had killed each other.

    What interested Terry were the comments at the bottom of the article.

    <blockquote>

    [NecroKid27]: long live the white rose!

    [DillonK]: the princess was a saint

    [anon12345]: She never belonged here. Bet she was a mole sent by Sol.

    [DillonK]: then whys she dead, dummy

    [anon12345]: the emperor found out, duh! Tied off a loose end.

    [alfie_rose]: theres zero chance siren took out the white rose. She was a middling B-grade. The rose was a powerhouse A-grade.

    [necroton-fan-69]: exactly! Everyone knows siren was only a knight because she was sol¡¯s side piece

    [throwaway9032]: then who killed the rose?

    </blockquote>

    Terry read that question over and over again.

    <blockquote>

    Then who killed the rose?

    </blockquote>

    He found himself wondering the exact same thing.

    Clicking on the add comment button, he was redirected to create an account for the news site. He filled in fake information with a temporary email he made in a few minutes. For his username, he used RoseBud. Though he realized it was stupid to use any identifying names or pieces of information, he thought the name was ubiquitous enough and wouldn¡¯t tie back to him in any way.

    Replying to the commenter who had asked the question, he typed in:

    <blockquote>

    Any theories?

    </blockquote>

    And pressed enter. He switched tabs and began searching for any info on the invasion¡¯s progress when his speakers dinged. At first, he couldn¡¯t figure out what had prompted the notification sound. He didn¡¯t have any messengers open or any alarms set. But then he noticed the bouncing tab he had just left. He flipped back over and saw that the commenter had already replied to his question.

    ¡°That was fast,¡± he muttered to himself.

    But as he read the response, his eyes narrowed. Instead of a normal reply, there was a hyperlink over the words: try here. Nothing else.

    He hovered over the link, examining the preview URL to make sure it didn¡¯t open some virus or lead to something dirty. But his confusion only increased as he examined the URL.

    ¡°Necrotalk forums?¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    He hadn¡¯t heard of the site, but it seemed harmless enough. Opening the link, he saw that it led to an online forum discussing all sorts of things happening within the Free-City of Wichita. But, at least recently, all the threads were understandably related to Sol¡¯s attack, his mom¡¯s death, or the invasion of Topeka.

    As he combed through the dozens of active threads, it became apparent that this forum was a hotbed of conspiracy theories and half-brained conjectures. He even passed over a thread authored by an anonymous poster suggesting that the White Rose had had an affair with Savage, with Terry as the result. That was why the Emperor had personally reaped the super and added him to his revenants.

    Despite the ridiculous nature of the theories and discussions in most of the threads, he couldn¡¯t pull himself away. He had too many questions and these threads¡ªthough ridiculous¡ªserved as a sort of lifeline to his burning curiosity.

    And they weren¡¯t all inane ramblings. There was one user named IBelieve that he saw commenting across multiple threads that Terry found had some intriguing questions. Questions Terry wondered as well.

    Creating an account for Necrotalk, he used the RoseBud alias once more. As soon as he received the confirmation, he sent a private message to IBelieve.

    <blockquote>

    Hey, saw some of your comments. I feel like you¡¯ve got some really interesting ideas. Up to chat?

    </blockquote>

    He waited a few seconds, half expecting IBelieve to respond instantly like the user on the news article had. But after a few moments, he shook his head with a wry smile.

    ¡°Not everyone is a thirteen-year-old boy with all day to troll forums,¡± he muttered to himself.

    He idly combed the Necrotalk forums for anything else interesting and found a thread discussing the fallout from Sol¡¯s attack. The thread starter claimed that the blast radius had been much larger than reported and that the farmlands had been completely scorched.

    Others responded asking for proof or simply calling the poster out for lying. One person had typed:

    <blockquote>

    Don¡¯t you think it would be tough to hide the fact that all our food was poisoned?

    </blockquote>

    The area surrounding the Knights of Sol¡¯s attack had been cordoned off, the poster claimed, so they couldn¡¯t get photos or video. In fact, the entirety of Wichita¡¯s farms had been restricted to essential personnel only.

    Good thing Terry was a prince.

    It was time for Terry to get out of the palace and do something other than mope about or troll the web. It was time for him to visit the place his mother had been killed. It was time to visit the farms.

    <hr>

    Turned out, it was one thing being the prince, and entirely another getting your well-meaning bodyguards to take you into known danger.

    Crunch, Bloodstain, and Burgundy had¡ªvery politely¡ªargued with him for twenty minutes. And they had made great points. The fallout from Sol¡¯s attack still lingered, the air might be toxic, the bulk of the army was occupied over a hundred miles away, and so on.

    But what had finally settled the debate was a single question from Terry.

    ¡°Did the Emperor expressly forbid me from going there?¡±

    That had given them pause and the three ghouls had a quick¡ªbut lively¡ªprivate discussion in ghoulish. Though Terry¡¯s lessons were going well, they spoke so fluently and didn¡¯t slow the tempo like they usually did for his human ears. And of course, their auras were inscrutable.

    After a few moments, Crunch turned to him and though half his face was melted from Sol¡¯s attack, his pained expression was unmistakable.

    ¡°We take prince to survey fields,¡± Crunch said wearily. Terry¡¯s face lit up, but the ghoul held out his hand in a very paternal gesture that indicated he wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°On few conditions.¡±

    Terry was too excited to consider what that could possibly mean. ¡°Fine, fine,¡± he replied hurriedly. ¡°Whatever you say.¡±

    Two hours of preparation later, Terry was hot, sweaty, and extremely annoyed.

    He and Crunch were bouncing around the cabin of an armored attack vehicle. Outside, Blood and Burg¡ªalong with a dozen other ghouls Terry had seen around but hadn¡¯t named¡ªwere following on foot with loping strides. Inside the vehicle, Terry was wrapped head-to-toe in a hazmat suit, his air supplied by a tank clipped to his back. Underneath the suit, he had on a bulletproof vest. The combination of the two, plus the heavy tank on his back, made it impossible to get anywhere close to comfortable. The sweat was dripping into his eyes now, and it took all his self-control not to rip off the helmet.

    In front and behind of the vehicle were two pickup trucks. The beds of each had .50 caliber machine guns with human guards manning the weapons. Strong enough to penetrate the skin of any super below A-grade that didn¡¯t have a power specifically centered around toughness.

    Terry thought it was overkill. The Knights of Sol had been routed. Savage and Siren were dead and no one had seen or heard from Scourge or the Shadow. As far as other supers were concerned, Sol had initiated the attack and though most considered Necroton a villain and a dictator, Sol¡¯s optics weren¡¯t much better. None in the supers community seemed inclined to do anything about it.

    And the idea that normies could assault his team of ghouls was laughable. Even an average ghoul could tank low caliber gunfire and move faster than the fastest human. The only real threat to Terry were lurking supers¡ªand the claustrophobic layers of the hazmat suit and bulletproof vest threatening to drown him in sweat!

    To distract himself from the annoyance, he glanced out of the narrow window to examine the city. Other than his mother¡¯s funeral parade, he hadn¡¯t been out of the palace since the attack. Not that the promenade really counted as out of the palace, but it sort of counted in that it led out into open air.

    But actually being out in the city proper was a completely different experience. Though it was midday by the clock, the sun had yet to return since the Emperor¡¯s working. A heavy darkness reminiscent of the after-midnight hours oppressed the city. And even if the sun hadn¡¯t been obscured, the fog bank seemed to cloy eerily to the ground, creating a head-height wall that was impenetrable to the human eye. The streetlamps were tiny pinpricks of light against the sea of fog and the headlights of the caravan didn¡¯t fare much better.

    During a time when there should have been hundreds of people on this very street going about their business, Terry hadn¡¯t seen a single one. And he didn¡¯t blame them. The midday darkness and the unnatural fog created an environment that was not welcoming to the living; Wichita was finally a place where only the undead could thrive. It made Terry wonder about the future of the city and brought to mind Crunch¡¯s words from the day before.

    Hunger bigger than loyalty.

    And what about safety? Sunlight? A freedom from fog that smelled of death? He was surprised a mass exodus hadn¡¯t occurred already.

    He pushed those thoughts away rather than face the reality of what the future held for Wichita. He knew that one day he¡¯d be strong enough to make a difference for his people, but that day wasn¡¯t this day.

    The vehicle jerked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. The ride had been bumpy, to say the least, and he felt like the driver kept tapping his brakes. And when Terry peered through the front windshield, he noticed the brake lights of the pickup truck ahead flashing erratically as well.

    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± He had to yell to be heard through the suit.

    His human driver glanced back, then cursed as he was forced to slam on the brakes again to avoid rear ending the lead truck.

    ¡°My apologies, my prince!¡± the driver called back. ¡°The fog makes it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.¡± Then, under his breath, he added, ¡°I think this damn fool is lost¡­¡±

    ¡°Lost?¡± Terry asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t it nearly a straight shot?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t remember the exact route he¡¯d taken the dozen or so times he¡¯d left the city, but he hadn¡¯t remembered this many turns.

    ¡°Pardon, my prince. There was an accident at one of the junctions and we had to divert.¡±

    ¡°An accident? Was anyone hurt?¡±

    The driver hesitated, glancing back at Terry before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m not sure, my prince.¡±

    ¡°I check when return, my prince,¡± Crunch added from beside him on the hard bench.

    The boy nodded. ¡°Please, Crunch.¡± To the driver, he added, ¡°If you see another accident, pull over, will you? We have a first aid kit here and I¡¯m sure the emergency services have their hands full with the darkness and the fog.¡±

    He noticed the driver¡¯s eyes flick up to meet his in the rear-view mirror, then flit away just as fast.

    Did I say something wrong? he wondered.

    ¡°My prince,¡± Crunch said. ¡°I request not stop. Dangerous already.¡±

    Terry turned to face the ghoul, his brow knitted in confusion. ¡°You want to drive by people that could need our help?¡±

    ¡°Honorable, my prince. But no visible. Easy be hit when out of car.¡±

    Terry understood his point. The fog lay so heavy that the only safe place was inside a vehicle¡ªespecially one as heavy and armored as this one. But how could he sleep at night if he passed by an injured person when he could have helped?

    ¡°These are my people, Crunch. What kind of leader would I be if I left them to suffer in the dark, wondering if help was coming? That¡¯s not what a superhero would do and it¡¯s not what an Emperor would do.¡±

    ¡°What are your orders, my prince?¡± the driver called back.

    Terry glanced toward Crunch and the ghoul nodded once. Though Terry was in charge, it still filled him with pride that the ghoul had come on board.

    ¡°Radio the lead truck. If they spot another accident, cordon off the area with the flares in the back. Position the trucks on either side so if another driver does come in too fast, they hit vehicles and not people.¡±

    The driver¡¯s eyes met his once more in the rear-view mirror, and though Terry couldn¡¯t be certain, he felt the expression on the man¡¯s face was one of approval. He tried not to let that balloon up his head too much, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of pride deep inside his chest.

    With renewed focus, he scanned the passing streets, his eyes peeled for any people in need.

 Chapter 7: Driver Dalton

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 55:7:5 08:32 local time)

    Terrence Fairway (Emperor Necroton)

    Summary

    Terrence Fairway (chosen super moniker: Emperor Necroton (formerly Lord Necroton)), is an S-ranked Summoner (confirmed) with emphasis on spectral control and the use of summons ((Familiars), (Thralls), (Revenants)). He is a part of the designated (Originals) that first accepted (the Call) in Year 0 (1982 in the pre-super era calendar). He is believed to have been born roughly around Year -22 (1960) though the exact date is unknown (needs citation), making him approximately 80 years of age.

    After returning from his (Capstone Quest) in Year 23, he changed his super name from Lord Necroton to Emperor Necroton, and asserted control over the Free-City of Wichita.

    Powerset

    Believed to be a single-class super, evidence suggests that Emperor Necroton has remained a Summoner since answering (the Call). Earliest accounts of his powers indicate an affinity to bone as an F-, E-, and D-ranked super. Upon returning from his (Midmark Quest), he was seen in the presence of (Familiars) (also see (Thralls) and (Revenants))  of an undead variety. As he has progressed up the ranks, the number of (Familiars) surrounding Emperor Necroton have only increased. His confirmed revenant count stands at five former supers (see Section: Summoner (C to S) for a full list) and his non-revenant (Familiars) are believed to be in the hundreds, if not thousands (needs citation).

    + Summoner (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    + Summoner (C to S)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Upon returning from his (Capstone Quest) in Year 23, the super known as Lord Necroton established control over the Free-City of Wichita, adopting the title of Emperor. Unlike his rival, (Solomon Rosenthal/Sol), Emperor Necroton has always acknowledged and encouraged the idea that Wichita is his kingdom. The super community at large first condemned Emperor Necroton as a supervillain in hero clothing. However, other than his ongoing dispute with the Free-City of Topeka, no coalition of supers has made any public effort to remove Emperor Necroton from power. Some have even suggested that he has the tacit approval of his peers, regardless of the public criticism levied his way (needs citation).

    Emperor Necroton and Wichita have been in a cold war with the Free-City of Topeka and (the Knights of Sol) for the past two years. (The Council) of Kansas City has spoken out against open conflict, citing the unimaginable potential for collateral damage should the two S-ranked supers unleash the extent of their powers, though they have not taken any overt action to intercede.

    Personal Life

    (click to expand)

    Notable Exploits

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    As the caravan approached the edge of the city, Terry noticed flood lights fighting against the fog ahead. They lit up the night sky, but did little to help with visibility. The lamps struggled against the dense fog for every inch, but mostly just served to illuminate their surroundings without penetrating beyond a small radius.

    ¡°What¡¯s that ahead?¡± Terry asked the driver.

    The man leaned forward, using his vantage to see further than Terry could through his hazmat suit from the backseat.

    ¡°Appears to be a checkpoint or something of the like, my prince.¡±

    Terry sat back, the sweat cooling on the back of his neck. Though Crunch and the other ghouls had accepted his leadership, he couldn¡¯t know how these undead at the city¡¯s edge would react. Would they turn them back on the Emperor¡¯s orders?

    The vehicle slammed to a halt, bucking Terry forward against his harness.

    ¡°Apologies, my prince!¡± the driver called back shakily. ¡°The lead truck slammed on its brakes.¡± The man muttered something under his breath that didn¡¯t carry through the thick material of Terry¡¯s helmet.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Not sure, my prince. The checkpoint¡¯s another hundred yards, but I see some brake lights ahead. Another accident, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Can you radio ahead and ask?¡±

    ¡°At once, my prince.¡± The driver picked up his handheld and began talking to the lead driver.

    Crunch leaned over, his single eye tracking restlessly across the windows and the encompassing fog.

    ¡°My prince,¡± the ghoul said quietly. ¡°Exposed and blocked here. Request reroute back to palace¡ª¡±

    ¡°Back?¡± Terry asked incredulously. ¡°What¡¯s the problem, Crunch? We¡¯re not even out of the city. Not only that, we didn¡¯t inform anyone of our excursion.¡± Despite what Terry considered a very logical point, the ghoul still looked noticeably uncomfortable. ¡°You can¡¯t honestly think someone staged an ambush in the middle of this fog on fifteen minutes notice?¡±

    Crunch said nothing, his eye continuously scanning outside the vehicle. After a moment, he turned to Terry. ¡°Admit difficult. But right powerset¡­difficult become possible.¡±

    Terry sat forward, his gaze turning to the impenetrable fog around them. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­¡± He lowered his voice so as to not alarm the driver. ¡°You don¡¯t think there¡¯s supers out there?¡± Waiting to kill me, he couldn¡¯t say out loud. Saying it would have made it seem too real in his mind.

    ¡°Unknown, my prince.¡±

    Terry studied the ghoul¡¯s expression, longing to see the bodyguard laugh it off or smile in a disarming way like Whipvine would have to let Terry know he wasn¡¯t worried. But, as far as he knew, ghouls didn¡¯t laugh and half of Crunch¡¯s face was so badly warped that a smile would have been less than comforting.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Still, he desperately wished Crunch had lied to him. Then he reprimanded himself for being a coward. You¡¯d rather sit in your room with your hands over your ears than face the truth? Pathetic.

    No, he had known there would be the possibility of danger and had forced his guards and drivers into this situation. He had to take responsibility for that and not pretend to be shocked if danger found them.

    Ignorance wasn¡¯t bliss; ignorance would lead him and the people following him over the cliff to crash on the rocks below.

    ¡°Are Blood and Burg out there?¡± Terry asked with a nod toward the fog.

    ¡°Yes, my prince.¡±

    ¡°Can you send one of them ahead to see what¡¯s causing the hold up?¡± Terry asked. Then, he added, ¡°And tell them to be on guard¡­for anything.¡±

    Crunch nodded once and opened the door. With his one arm, he reached up to the roof of the vehicle and propelled himself out of the cab, shutting the door behind him with the heel of his foot. It happened so fast Terry could barely follow the ghoul¡¯s movements.

    The driver had noticed Crunch¡¯s departure in the rear-view, his eyes visibly wide at the acrobatic display.

    ¡°I sure am glad they¡¯re on our side,¡± the driver muttered. Then, remembering himself, he hastily added, ¡°My prince.¡±

    Terry waved away the man¡¯s anxiety. ¡°Please, no need to be so formal in private. Call me Terry. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Dalton, my pr¡ªuh, Terry.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Dalton. How long have you been driving for the family?¡± Terry was both being polite and filling the space with small talk. It was the only way he could think of to fight the nerves. Though he knew an ambush was unlikely, Crunch¡¯s paranoia had infected him.

    ¡°Nine years,¡± Dalton responded with an obvious hint of pride. ¡°Your mother brought me on herself¡ª¡± He cut off, glancing back at Terry.

    Though he quickly masked it, the mention of his mother had brought on a flurry of emotions that must have registered on his face. A lump formed in his throat but he fought past it.

    ¡°Please, go on,¡± he said tightly.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, my prince. I didn¡¯t mean to rub at a still fresh wound.¡±

    Terry shook his head quickly, fighting to keep the tears down. ¡°Please speak. I¡­there¡¯s no one else to talk to about her¡­¡±

    A shocked look crossed the man¡¯s eyes, then realization hit him. ¡°Your father, the Commander¡­he¡¯s gone to war with the Emperor.¡±

    It was more statement than question, but Terry answered anyway. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Dalton nodded sympathetically. ¡°Forgive me for saying so, my prince, but a child shouldn¡¯t lose both parents in a single week.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t agree more, but the feeling in his throat had become an immovable object. He knew, just knew, that if he tried to speak, Dalton would hear the trembling in his voice. So he simply nodded and turned away to look out the window while he mastered himself.

    There was nothing to see other than fog, but Terry kept his eyes glued to it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

    Minutes of silence later, a tap on the opposite window made Terry jump in fright. He spun around to see Crunch¡¯s melted face staring back at him as the ghoul clung to the outside of the vehicle like a man-sized spider. Terry leaned over and opened the door. Crunch slithered in with a casual swing, pulling the door shut behind him.

    Terry slid back over to the far side and continued staring outside the window at nothing. He didn¡¯t want Crunch to see how hard he was working to keep from crying. But despite his best efforts, the ghoul was incredibly attuned to his charge¡¯s mood.

    ¡°My prince? Something happen?¡± Terry risked a glance over to see Crunch scanning the interior of the cab like he was looking for some interloper hiding under the seat cushion.

    Terry still didn¡¯t trust his voice, so he quickly shook his head and turned away. A rush of movement startled him and he turned back to see Crunch¡¯s claws poised at Dalton¡¯s neck. The driver was ghost-white, his chin pointed at the roof from the pressure of razor-sharp bone pressing against his carotid.

    Despite the threat of his actions, Crunch¡¯s voice was level as he asked, ¡°What do?¡±

    Terry saw Dalton¡¯s Adam¡¯s apple bob as the man swallowed tightly. ¡°Nothing, nothing!¡± His voice raised an octave for the second word. ¡°I swear!¡±

    ¡°Crunch!¡± Terry shouted, his melancholy all but forgotten in the face of Crunch¡¯s aggression. ¡°What are you doing? Leave Dalton alone.¡± When the ghoul didn¡¯t respond, Terry reached out and grabbed Crunch¡¯s arm with both hands. Pulling with all his weight, he was shocked to feel the iron strength in the limb. Crunch hadn¡¯t budged an inch, hadn¡¯t even registered the child hanging from his arm.

    But after a split-second, Crunch obeyed, retracting his claws and returning to the back of the cab.

    ¡°What the hell, Crunch?¡± Terry shouted. ¡°What is wrong with you?¡±

    Crunch seemed to realize what he had done¡ªnot assaulting Dalton, but his half-second of disregarding Terry¡¯s orders¡ªand he threw himself to the cab floor.

    ¡°My prince! I-I¡­¡± The ghoul trailed off and Terry felt his simmering anger dissipate in an instant. He didn¡¯t want his friends throwing themselves at his feet at every slight. But at the same time, the ghoul was a superhuman killing machine. Crunch couldn¡¯t just attack innocent people for every perceived slight.

    Terry sighed, meeting Dalton¡¯s nervous gaze in the mirror. ¡°Are you alright, Dalton?¡±

    The driver¡¯s eyes flicked to the still prostrated ghoul, then back to Terry. ¡°Yes, my prince. No-no harm done.¡±

    Terry nodded and turned back to Crunch. ¡°Get up, Crunch,¡± he ordered harshly. The ghoul rose to a single knee rather than returning to the bench seating. Terry pursed his lips, feeling like an imposter with even that simple command. Sighing, he sat back against his seat. ¡°What was that about?¡± he asked quietly.

    Crunch kept his gaze glued to the carpet of the cab floor. ¡°I disobey command. Injuries greater than thought. Request allow evolve. Serve better¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Terry interrupted, his tone measured. ¡°I¡¯ve already spoken on that.¡± He wanted to shout at the ghoul, demand to know why he had almost impaled Terry¡¯s innocent driver. But it was obvious the ghoul was beating himself up worse than Terry ever could. ¡°Just¡­¡± Terry sighed. ¡°Just tell me what happened.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my prince. When return, aura upset. Driver aura guilty. Nervous. I¡­I jump conclusion.¡± Crunch bowed his head even deeper. ¡°I apologize, my prince.¡±

    So that was what had sparked his outburst, Terry mused. It was understandable that Crunch was a bit jumpy after the incident with Sol, but what conclusion had he jumped to? Did he think Dalton had done something to him or said something egregious? To be fair, Dalton had said something that triggered Terry¡¯s grief, but that was his problem. He didn¡¯t need his undead supersoldier bodyguard killing people for being tactless.

    ¡°Thank you, Crunch. Now, I think you owe Dalton an apology, too.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t miss the wide-eyed expression on Dalton¡¯s face at the suggestion and he could see the man¡¯s objections die on his lips.

    But Crunch handled the command with a professional grace. Lifting his head, he looked toward Dalton.

    ¡°Please take apology, driver¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dalton,¡± Terry suggested lightly.

    Crunch nodded once. ¡°Please take apology, Dal-ton. No happen again.¡±

    Terry examined Dalton through the mirror and had to keep himself from laughing at the man¡¯s obvious discomfort. There was just something about mediating a dispute between the ghoul and the driver that tickled Terry¡¯s fancy and made him forget his grief for the moment.

    After a moment of horrified surprise, Dalton cleared his throat. ¡°Uh, thank you, um, Crunch?¡± he phrased it like a question, but Crunch didn¡¯t indicate one way or the other if he approved of being called that. Terry gave the driver a subtle nod to prompt him on. ¡°I, uh, accept your, um, apology.¡±

    Terry clapped his hands once as he¡¯d seen the Emperor do many times to signal the end of a dispute.

    ¡°Good, we can all be friends again,¡± Terry said with a bit of forced cheer. ¡°What did you find, Crunch?¡±

    The ghoul took that as a signal to take his seat again, his half-melted face unreadable.

    ¡°City gates blocked,¡± Crunch replied. To the unfamiliar, they might have assumed that was the end of his statement, but Terry could read the ghoul¡¯s mannerisms¡ªif not his facial expressions. At the edge of Crunch¡¯s fingertips, razor-sharp bone claws were protruding a half-inch. For a ghoul, the resting state of their bone claws would be fully retracted, while the fighting state would reveal six-inch long blades that could mar steel. Partial extraction was evidence of an agitated state, and Terry had a hunch that the ghoul¡¯s run in with Dalton had already been forgotten in Crunch¡¯s mind.

    ¡°And¡­?¡± Terry prompted.

    ¡°Some human try flee city. Draugr kill them. People fled cars. Why road blocked¡ª¡±

    ¡°The draugr what!¡± Terry shouted, exploding up from his seat to smash the top of his hazmat helmet against the vehicle roof. ¡°Ow.¡± He plopped back to the bench seating, rubbing at his head through the heavy material.

    Now Crunch¡¯s mood made sense. Terry would have never expected Crunch to attack Dalton based on simple auras. The ghoul must have had a run in with the draugr that put him on edge.

    ¡°Did you speak to the draugr?¡± Terry asked after his head stopped ringing.

    ¡°Yes. Emperor order. None leave city until His return.¡±

    It took Terry a moment to process that statement. The draugr weren¡¯t like ghouls. They were birthed from harvesting vengeful spirits and had a bloodthirsty edge to them that made them feared by all of the living. While ghouls were feared for their strength and speed, they had a reputation of honor and fairness. The draugr were creatures of instinct, only tempered by direct commands from the Emperor or the Commander.

    And hopefully, the Emperor¡¯s grandson.

    To put a draugr at the city gates with orders to prevent escape was like putting a pack of sharks around a sinking ship. Deaths were inevitable.

    ¡°How could he?¡± Terry muttered. His fists clenched, the rubber gloves of his suit squeaking quietly. ¡°Crunch, help me take off my helmet.¡±

    ¡°My prince¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to the gates to speak with this draugr,¡± Terry continued. ¡°And if I approach with my face obscured, who knows what this thing will do to me.¡±

    ¡°I never allow,¡± Crunch replied sternly.

    ¡°All the same, it will be good for the people fleeing to see their prince.¡± God knows their Emperor and the heir-apparent weren¡¯t around to give them hope.

    Terry could feel Crunch¡¯s hesitation, but to the ghoul¡¯s credit, he didn¡¯t argue. Turning Terry gently by the shoulders, he accessed the seal at the back of the helmet and released it. Terry reached up and helped pull the heavy gear off, breathing a sigh of relief once fresh air hit his lungs.

    ¡°Wait please, my prince. I inform Blessed travel on foot.¡±

    Terry nodded agreement and Crunch whipped out of the vehicle like a racing dog out of the gate.

    ¡°Dalton?¡± Terry called ahead. ¡°Would you radio the other drivers and let them know the situation?¡±

    ¡°At once, my prince.¡±

    ¡°Also, have them cordon off the street with their trucks. I don¡¯t want anyone slipping past us and running into that thing guarding the gates.¡± Terry glanced outside once more, not even able to see where the street ended and the sidewalk began. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope no one approaches the gates on foot until I can force the draugr to stand down¡­¡±

 Chapter 8: Draugr at the Gates

    Less than a minute later, the ghoul was at the vehicle door, his melted face peering eerily through the bulletproof glass. Terry slid across the bench and hesitated at the door.

    Unlike the ghouls that made up the bulk of the palace guard, the draugr caste were reclusive, only emerging from the catacombs under direct orders. Terry had only seen them at a distance, and in broad daylight. Coming face-to-face with a draugr in this supernatural fog was the stuff of horror sims.

    And yet, it was the people of his family¡¯s city being terrorized by this draugr¡ªat his grandfather¡¯s orders to boot. As much as he wanted to walk away, let someone else deal with the problem, he knew¡ªjust knew¡ªthat every innocent death from this point on would be on his head.

    Still, he was thirteen. He was allowed to take a few steadying breaths before facing an undead killing machine, wasn¡¯t he?

    His hand reached out to the door handle, resting there for a moment. Scenarios flashed in his mind.

    The draugr whipping past Crunch and the other ghouls to cut Terry down before he could announce his presence.

    Even worse, the draugr recognized him and still cut him down.

    Or maybe it ignored him as it raced after the fleeing people, bypassing Terry like he was an inconsequential pebble in the path of a bulldozer.

    He wasn¡¯t sure how long he was poised to head out into the fog. How long Crunch stared back at him through the glass. His mind was telling his hand to pull the handle, but his body wasn¡¯t listening.

    A tactful cough sounded from the side, startling Terry from his tumultuous thoughts.

    ¡°Begging your pardon, my prince, but¡­you got this.¡±

    He turned to see Dalton watching him in the rear-view mirror, a steady look in his eye. The driver gave Terry an encouraging nod, prompting him forward, and the boy couldn¡¯t help but be buoyed. Here was a man personally employed by Terry¡¯s mother, giving him encouragement only days after her death. If he didn¡¯t examine the circumstances too closely, it might even feel like fate.

    He steeled himself, letting out the breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding.

    ¡°Thank you, Dalton. I¡¯ll return shortly,¡± he replied confidently. There was a phrase his mother had repeated over and over again, to the point that he had rolled his eyes every single time he¡¯d heard the phrase.

    Fake it till you make it¡­

    Now, he understood the sentiment.

    The door opened with a click and Crunch was there with a helping hand. Climbing out of the vehicle with the hazmat suit was a chore and all of the false bluster he had been building up took a backseat to the realities of maneuvering his body out of the narrow doorway.

    Once he was out, with a heartfelt¡ªif embarrassed¡ªthank you to Crunch, he surveyed the street.

    It was deserted but for the caravan and the abandoned cars blocking their passage. The fog cloyed to the ground, making it nearly impossible to spot where the road ended and the sidewalks began. But at head height, the fog was slightly less dense, allowing him to see a bit past the lead truck in front of his vehicle.

    Around him, Crunch, Bloodstain, and Burg had formed a triangular press with their bodies, shielding him so thoroughly that he could barely move without bumping into one of them.

    ¡°Guys,¡± Terry said in exasperation. ¡°Can you give me a few feet of wiggle room? This is ridiculous, even for you lot.¡±

    Bloodstain and Burg looked to Crunch, and Terry realized that something about their recent interactions had elevated Crunch in status when it came to his guard retinue. It made sense, as Crunch had been his shadow for years. But it was also odd, in that the ghoul had been moments from being ¡®recycled¡¯ before he had intervened. As far as he knew, ghouls existed in a hierarchy of duty and strength. The two usually coincided, in that the strongest received the most important duties and were therefore highest in the hierarchy. But in Crunch¡¯s case, he was clearly physically impaired, yet Terry¡¯s attachment had elevated the ghoul in his peer¡¯s eyes.

    He had no doubt the other ghouls in the caravan would similarly defer to Bloodstain and Burg if Crunch were not nearby.

    Speaking of the other ghouls, they materialized from the fog, forming a second, wider ring around Terry and his three shadows. Their shapes were mostly obscured, bare silhouettes appearing and disappearing in the fog as Terry scanned around him. He counted ten, maybe twelve, ghouls, realizing that he actually didn¡¯t know how many guards had joined their caravan. He¡¯d been so consumed¡ªand annoyed¡ªwith getting fitted into his hazmat suit, he hadn¡¯t even considered how many of the undead creatures were required for this expedition.

    He also realized that he was using this line of thought to stall¡ªagain.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said out loud, though it was more to force his own feet than announce anything to the nearby ghouls.

    As he started down the street, the two concentric circles of ghouls shifted with him, like the outer lines of a bullseye with him at the center. The imagery didn¡¯t help his already anxious state, so he focused on scanning the nearby road.

    A hundred feet passed and he didn¡¯t see a single soul. The nearby sidewalk had street lights every twenty feet, but they were fighting a losing battle against the fog. Past the sidewalks stood businesses, though Terry noted closed signs and even boarded up windows during what should have been a bustling time. The only sounds of a once vibrant city were the rushing water of the Arkansas River a few blocks over¡ªand his own ragged breathing.

    A city that had been thriving only a week earlier now felt like a literal ghost town.

    ¡°How could my grandfather leave the city in this condition?¡± he muttered.

    Though he knew the ghouls'' supernatural hearing would have picked up the question, their aura recognition would have made the rhetorical nature of the question apparent.

    Even still, Terry wished someone¡ªanyone¡ªwould speak, if only to break the unnatural silence of the sound-dampening fog.

    After a few moments, the shape of the outer wall became vaguely visible through the pools of white cast by the flood lights. The cars abandoned in the middle of the street were no longer politely parked in a straight line, but rather, were crashed into other cars, into the facades of the buildings, or simply left to idle on the sidewalks.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    As they neared the wall, a mound began to materialize in the street. Then another. And another, until there were dozens of ankle-height mounds protruding from the heavy fog like the moguls of a ski run. Terry squinted, struggling to identify what he was seeing as he neared the gates.

    Something snagged his foot, causing him to stumble. With an undignified yelp, he whipped his head down to see what had grabbed him. Buried in the heavy fog was the clear outline of a person. Crunch responded instantly, kicking the person away so hard they they slid fifteen feet along the ground before rolling to a stop.

    ¡°Crunch!¡± Terry cried. ¡°That¡¯s a person.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my prince.¡± He replied with no inflection, his head swiveling about as if expecting Savage to come leaping out of the fog any moment.

    ¡°They need help. See if they¡¯re okay. Please!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all dead, my prince,¡± Burg replied softly.

    Terry turned to look at the ghoul. ¡°All? What do you¡­¡± He trailed off as horror dawned on him.

    With new eyes, he examined the mounds dotting the street. His heart clenched as he counted ten, fifteen, nearly twenty bodies dotting the road. And that was only what he could see.

    ¡°It has to be stopped,¡± he whispered, afraid that it was listening.

    The frontline of his ghoul entourage suddenly rippled, their stances lowering as they sounded a warning in their native tongue.

    Crunch was at his side in an instant, his body slightly forward and in front so as to intercept an attack.

    Terry tensed, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. A cold sweat dripped down his shirt and he hunched in, as if expecting something to fly out of the night fog straight for his head.

    Instead, a silhouette appeared ahead. It was large, as wide as three ghouls, and was shaped like figure wearing a flowing cloak. The edges of its silhouette were frayed, defying reality as the shadows warped and shifted to his eye.

    It marched forward¡ªnot fast, but with an aura of inexorability, as if it would not be stopped. When it reached the outer ring of ghouls, they parted with halting, reluctant steps. Whether a result of social strata or metaphysical power, the draugr would not be impeded by the lower rung of ghouls.

    The same could not be said for Crunch and his trio. They met the draugr halfway, bodily blocking it as it neared.

    Terry hardly noticed what happened next. An aura of rime began to coat his clothes, filling his blood with ice. The tingling at the back of his neck from before had escalated into full-blown needles stabbing into his skin. A wave of rot-smell drifted toward him, evoking an image of a beast splayed open and decaying in a frozen tundra. It didn¡¯t matter that an icy landscape would preserve a dead animal¡ªlogic had no place in the face of this being.

    It wasn¡¯t rational, he realized. The feeling creeping up his back and filling his nose with the smell of death wasn¡¯t real. It was the creature¡¯s aura, lashing out like a vengeful viper, infecting the living and unliving with its hate and fear and loneliness¡ªso, so lonely¡­

    He was snapped out of its aura¡¯s hold by the hissing sibilance of its voice.

    ¡°No¡­passage¡­¡±

    Though the draugr was twenty feet away, blocked by his three ghoul bodyguards, and surrounded by another dozen on high alert, Terry felt like he was one wrong word¡ªone wrong movement¡ªfrom death¡¯s cold embrace.

    But he was a Fairway! His family were the masters of the unliving, not the other way around. They bowed to him. They feared him.

    Okay, maybe they didn¡¯t fear me. But there was no reason for me to be afraid.

    And yet, he had to fight down the shiver that tried to worm its way up his back.

    ¡°Honored draugr¡ª¡± he started, but immediately cut off as the vague shape whirled toward him. The intensity of its aura tripled and the breath was sucked from his lungs. He tried to force air in through his nose, but the effect was crippling. His lungs were being squeezed. His legs trembled. Hopelessness and self-loathing speared his mind.

    Images flashed across his eyes. Savage, Scourge, Sol, Siren¡­his mother.

    They died because of you.

    With a force of will, he broke the aura¡¯s hold over him, sucking in a heaving gasp of air. He took in three more steadying breaths before forcing himself upright.

    ¡°I am the grandson of Terrence Fairway, Emperor of the Long Night, and ruler of this land. I demand that you stand down.¡±

    The words were all right, but his voice was thin, and his tone was weak and questioning rather than commanding.

    The draugr seemed to agree, because its aura redoubled. A gut-punch hit him and he collapsed to one knee. It drifted forward, closing the gap. Terry glanced up to see the hunched silhouettes of his ghoul entourage. They had been cowed by the overwhelming might of the creature before them.

    All but Crunch.

    With shaking limbs, Terry¡¯s lifelong shadow latched one powerful limb onto the approaching draugr. It did nothing to stop the creature¡¯s approach, but it did snap the other ghouls out of their daze. They lifted their heads and looked around as if waking from a dream, only to spot themselves in the midst of a battle. Burg was the first to follow Crunch¡¯s lead, launching himself like an undead missile at the draugr. Bloodstain followed a heartbeat later, wrapping his body around the thing¡¯s legs.

    Terry¡¯s limbs were jelly and he was on the verge of hyperventilating. But he forced himself through the thick cloud of terror projecting from the draugr. His friends throwing themselves bodily at his attacker gave his legs the strength to stand.

    More ghouls leaped atop the creature, landing on their brothers in an attempt to weigh the thing down. It tried to march through the hundreds of pounds of undead digging their bone-claws into its body, but was eventually slowed to a stop.

    Terry could see the shift in its attention, like the ponderous weight of its regard required huge mental effort to redirect from its predestined target. Casually, it lifted one shrouded arm and shook it up and down, dislodging the attached ghouls with ballistic force. Then the other arm.

    A handful of ghouls were launched across the road with bone-smashing impacts, ripping through the facades of the surrounding buildings or tearing up the asphalt with their passage. Some of them clambered to their feet and rejoined the fight.

    Some did not.

    Terry¡¯s feet were glued in place, his thoughts boiled down to simple, digestible components that unfortunately did not involve a plan out of this slaughterhouse. But even if he did have the capacity to understand that he should be running for his life, he did not have the capacity to leave his friends to certain death.

    So he did the only thing his aura-addled brain could picture in the face of an unyielding enemy.

    He went on the attack.

    Before his thoughts could catch up to his body, he was standing before the draugr. Five ghouls were tenaciously latched onto its limbs like wolves trying to take down a moose. But right in front of him, free of ghouls or any sort of impediment, was the draugr¡¯s chest.

    He reared his tiny fist back and threw a sloppy haymaker¡ªthe one he¡¯d seen Kill-Punch throw in his Saturday morning cartoons¡ªright at that open spot.

    His wrist buckled on impact, his thumb¡ªnot clenched properly¡ªwas pulled from the glancing blow, bending backwards. Fire burned along his knuckles¡ªa cold fire, like a brain freeze across his skin.

    There was a term for that, he knew. What was that¡ª

    He was suddenly airborne, the wind blowing through his hair like he was one of the flying supers he had so idolized. He wished he could fly. This sort of counted, he supposed.

    Then, his back smashed into something hard, sucking the air from his lungs for what felt like the millionth time. Sharp pain stabbed¡­everywhere. The sounds of the struggle suddenly became crystal clear¡ªsomething he hadn¡¯t realized had been dampened before. Bone on bone, the crunching of ghoul teeth as they coordinated their attacks, and the eerie howling of the draugr as it fought off his entire bodyguard unit.

    Despite the mind-numbing pain, all he could think was: they sound like alley cats fighting off a possum.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± a voice said somewhere nearby. ¡°Not every day you see that!¡±

    Terry¡¯s head wouldn¡¯t turn, but the speaker came into view a moment later. He was tall, with long, straight silver hair pulled back into a bun. A thick beard covered his jaw, while a small mask covered his upper face.

    And he was hovering off the ground, his boots three feet from the road.

    Why was he floating?

    The masked man glanced over at Terry with wide eyes. He let out an appreciative whistle that Terry thought didn¡¯t quite match the urgency or tone of the moment. ¡°You¡¯re still alive? That¡¯s impressive. Let me go deal with whatever that is and if you¡¯re still breathing when I get back, I promise to call¡­¡± He glanced around, obviously noting the heavy, obscuring fog. ¡°Well, someone,¡± he eventually said with a shrug.

    Before Terry¡¯s mind could process his anger or hope or surprise, the man floated toward the battle, cracking his knuckles as if he was considering a brawl with the supernatural creature.

    Although, I guess that¡¯s what I just did. Let¡¯s hope this guy¡¯s a bit more durable than a thirteen-year-old normie.

 Chapter 9: Geekin Out

    Terry watched with bated breath¡ªnot because his chest was tight from some rib injury, though it was, but because he was completely enthralled¡ªas the unknown super casually floated toward the battle between the draugr and the ghouls.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna need all the rotting things to step away from the spirit thing,¡± the super called out. The howling of the draugr and the constant, grating communication between the ghouls drowned out his request for the most part.

    Still, he watched the battle expectantly, like a man used to being heard and obeyed. When it became clear the undead had no intention of separating like two kids at a schoolyard brawl scolded by a teacher, he sighed.

    The draugr was suddenly flipped onto its back, pinned to the ground by a mundane boot. The clutching ghouls were thrown to the street like discarded accessories. The draugr¡¯s wailing had magnified under the super¡¯s casual assault, stabbing into Terry¡¯s ears like an ice pick. The ghouls stirred in the fog bank, disoriented but uninjured, except for what the draugr had already inflicted.

    ¡°Will you¡ªhey, stop screami¡ªokay, stop that!¡± The super pressed his foot down, turning the high-pitched wailing into more of a squeal. Then, the strength of the draugr¡¯s body seemed to hit its limit and the boot passed through its chest like he had stepped through a rotten corpse. ¡°Oh, shit! Oops¡­¡± The super glanced around as if caught in the act of something he shouldn¡¯t be doing.

    Terry just watched dumbfounded. Had he¡­accidentally killed the draugr?

    The man extracted his foot with a disgusted look. Shaking it vigorously, he dislodged dead flesh and ichor that went spraying through the fog.

    ¡°Back for two minutes,¡± the man muttered. ¡°And I¡¯ve already ruined my favorite boots.¡±

    A distant part of Terry recognized that this super could kill him with an errant touch. If the man even blew air out of his lungs too hard, Terry¡¯s skin would probably be peeled back like rice paper. But the much nearer part of him¡ªthe part screaming the loudest inside of him right now¡ªwas the die-hard supers geek that he¡¯d been since he could remember.

    And that geek inside of him knew every single S-grade powerhouse in the world.

    Except this one.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Terry called from his splayed position on the hood of a car. The fire running through his entire body was second to the dying curiosity burning inside his mind.

    The super looked at Terry in surprise. ¡°Oh, sorry kid. Forgot you were there.¡± He delicately shook his boot once more, then stepped away from the draugr corpse to approach Terry.

    Crunch limped into Terry¡¯s vision, stepping in front of the super.

    ¡°Do not¡­approach¡­¡±

    The man paused, snorting humorously. Leaning around the ghoul, he looked at Terry. ¡°I¡¯ll give ¡®em that, they¡¯re loyal. Like a dog,¡± he added with a wry smile.

    Though Terry didn¡¯t like the comparison, he felt a welling up of pride¡ªand a fair bit of concern. Even Crunch at full strength wouldn¡¯t slow this super¡ªeven if he sold his life in the effort. This man wasn¡¯t on Savage¡¯s level.

    He was light-years ahead of a super like Savage.

    ¡°Crunch, it¡¯s okay. Let him pass,¡± Terry ordered gently.

    The ghoul hesitated, then backed away, coming to stand next to where Terry lay on the hood of a car. He examined Terry with a single wide eye.

    ¡°My prince, need medical help!¡±

    Terry chuckled, then cut off as a wracking cough took him. When he had his breath back, he said, ¡°I¡¯ll live. Check on Burg, Blood, and the others.¡±

    Crunch glanced at his fallen brothers, a concern lighting in his eye. With a clacking of jagged teeth, he gave orders to the few standing ghouls. One ghoul ran off into the fog, while the others went to check on the downed ghouls.

    The super had watched the entire affair with a bored disinterest, but waited for Crunch to relay his orders before approaching.

    Terry forced in a breath through aching ribs in order to calm his excitement. This was a real-life S-ranked super, standing right in front of me! Not his grandfather. Not an action figure. Not a poster. An unknown S-ranker in the flesh!

    ¡°Are you a new S-ranked?¡± Terry asked. ¡°I thought I knew all the higher tiered A¡¯s, but¡­¡± He trailed off, not wanting to say anything rude.

    The man shrugged. ¡°New? You could say that,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°You can call me Silver.¡±

    Terry wracked his brain. Silver¡­Silver¡­

    ¡°No offense, but I¡¯ve never heard of you,¡± he replied coyly. ¡°And I pretty much know every super¡ª¡± He had almost said, ¡®worth knowing¡¯ and had just stopped himself. ¡°Every powerful super,¡± he quickly amended.

    The man shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t surprise me. Left for my Capstone before your daddy¡¯s balls dropped, I reckon.¡±

    Terry gasped, his jaw hanging open. The man¡¯s wry expression snapped the boy out of his idolization.

    ¡°You-you¡¯re an Original?¡±

    Silver lifted his chin in a haughty manner, as if he were posing for a photo op. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you tell?¡±

    Now that the man mentioned it, his costume was several decades out of style. For one thing, there were two colors¡ªred and blue¡ªand they weren¡¯t subtle or stylish by any stretch of the imagination. The shorts were red and more short-shorts than of a practical length, eschewing the modern aesthetic and trending more toward¡­pre-Call workout clothes. Beneath them were blue tights that were tucked into red leather boots. There was a blue cape attached at his shoulders that Terry hadn¡¯t noticed before and that was the real give away.

    Everyone knows that you don¡¯t wear capes.

    But all that did was solidify in his mind that this super¡¯s story added up. This man was from an era well before Terry¡¯s time. His thoughts raced at a thousand miles a second. Who were the Originals that hadn¡¯t been seen in a few decades but weren¡¯t confirmed dead? Let¡¯s see¡­there was Shatterspear, A-Bomb, Wrecker, Teargas, Gunmetal¡­This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    He cycled through all of the names from memory, but none of them matched this super¡¯s powerset. Although, decades in whatever realm he had been might have drastically altered his appearance and powers.

    ¡°What name did you go by before your Capstone?¡± he asked.

    Silver¡¯s face dropped and he looked off into the fog. ¡°That¡¯s¡­a bit personal.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­uh, sorry?¡±

    The man shook his head with a frown. Then he snapped his fingers, the shockwave of the displaced air actually pinning Terry to the car hood for a moment and flaring up the pain he had been ignoring. His eyebrows lifted in surprise and he had a look of chagrin.

    ¡°Oops, sorry bout that kid. Still acclimating.¡±

    Terry was too starstruck¡ªand too busy combing through his memory of the Originals¡ªto notice. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± he replied quickly.

    Silver looked up into the night sky, his brow knitting together. ¡°Help me out here, kid. Think my System¡¯s fried.¡± He slapped the side of his head like it was an old TV throwing salt and pepper static. ¡°This should be Kansas¡­but this sure ain¡¯t look like Kansas. And this fog ain¡¯t natural for a joo-lai afternoon.¡±

    Joo-lai¡­? Did he mean July! As in the old calendar?

    Oblivious to Terry¡¯s shock, the man casually glanced at his wrist, then seemed to realize there was nothing there. ¡°What time you got? Says it¡¯s barely past noon but¡ª¡± He waved his hand as if to indicate the obvious darkness. ¡°You can see my confusion.¡±

    Terry barely heard the question, he was so focused on that semi-familiar word.

    July wasn¡¯t a thing anymore.

    ¡°Uh, well, it is past noon. And we¡¯re not in Kansas.¡±

    Silver looked at him with a wry smile. ¡°Okay, Dorothy, if we¡¯re not in Kansas, where are we?¡±

    Dorothy¡­?

    ¡°Well, first of all, I¡¯m Terry, not Dorothy. Second of all, we¡¯re in the Free-City of Wichita, ruled by the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Boy, don¡¯t play with me. I ain¡¯t in the mood.¡±

    Terry was taken aback at his tone, unconsciously leaning away. Crunch growled in response, but the super didn¡¯t even register the ghoul¡¯s presence.

    ¡°Wichita¡¯s part of Kansas, kid, so don¡¯t get cute.¡±

    Terry shook his head fervently. ¡°No, really. Kansas City is hours away and is run by the Council. Topeka¡¯s nearby and is ruled by the Knights¡ª¡± He cut off, suddenly realizing that no, Topeka was not in fact ruled by Sol and his Knights¡­not anymore.

    Silver closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple.

    ¡°The state, kid. Kansas state. Jesus H., you got me thinking I was in Canada or something. Was bout to burn down some maple trees outta spite.¡±

    He chuckled dryly, but Terry¡¯s eyes had gone wide.

    ¡°I was only kidding¡­sorta.¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°State? You meant Kansas state? Like the United States?¡±

    Silver sighed, looking up toward the sky. When he brought his eyes back down, there was an edge to them that scared Terry.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Terry said quickly. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to be smart. It¡¯s just¡­I didn¡¯t realize you meant the state, like the old state¡­from before.¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyes narrowed, a hard look that made Terry glance around for an escape route. But there was none, so the man¡¯s eyes pinned him to the hood like a butterfly on exhibit.

    ¡°Whatchu mean, old state, huh? You tryin¡¯ tell me Kansas ain¡¯t exist no more?¡±

    The man¡¯s slurring drawl had become exaggerated as his mood soured and Terry had to take a moment to process the words through his fear.

    ¡°I-uh, well¡­yeah. The United States collapsed a couple decades after the Call and¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re shitting me?¡± Silver exclaimed. ¡°How long back?¡±

    Terry scoured his memory, afraid to give the super a non-answer. But for as long as he had been alive, the United States had been a relic of history.

    ¡°Um, maybe thirty years?¡± Terry suggested. Seeing the darkening look on the man¡¯s face, he gulped. ¡°Uh¡­sorry?¡±

    The man turned away and started pacing, muttering under his breath in clear agitation.

    ¡°Thirty years¡­been gone for¡­idiots¡­collapsed¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, he whirled on Terry, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. ¡°The zombie called you prince. This your family¡¯s territory, then?¡± His tone was even, but there was something dangerous in the glint in his eyes.

    Terry¡¯s instinct was to lie, deflect, say anything to not get pasted against the hood of this car by a strange super. But he knew he didn¡¯t have it in him to tell a convincing lie¡ªnot under these conditions.

    So, he resigned himself to the super¡¯s will.

    ¡°Yes, my family rules this city,¡± he admitted. Crunch seemed to sense the mood from the super, because he angled his body in just a little tighter.

    Silver pursed his lips. ¡°Did your family bring down the U.S.?¡± The question had the weight of a guillotine hanging over a condemned man¡¯s head.

    Thankfully, Terry knew the answer to this one and didn¡¯t have to lie.

    ¡°No! No, it wasn¡¯t grandfather. He came back from his Capstone to a world in chaos, picked up the pieces of his home after the war. The world was in turmoil and nowhere was safe for normies. He created a little pocket of order in his neighborhood and all of Wichita begged to join.¡±

    That was mostly true¡ªtrue enough for Terry to say it convincingly, at least. Terry¡¯s grandfather might have carved out a little extra with a bit of force, taking advantage of the chaos after the Splintering.

    ¡°Hmph, well, I¡¯ll get to the bottom of your story,¡± Silver said with the cool surety of a proclamation. ¡°What¡¯d you say his name was?¡±

    For the second time, he considered lying. If he could direct this obviously deranged S-ranker toward some actual supervillain, he¡¯d have time to warn his grandfather. But the Emperor¡¯s identity wasn¡¯t a secret¡ªeven a cursory investigation would reveal Terry¡¯s lie and then who knew what this super would do.

    So he pulled his shoulders back, puffed up his chest¡ªpainfully¡ªand projected his voice. ¡°Emperor Necroton, Lord of the Long Night, Protector of the Living and the Unliv¡ª¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    Terry faltered at the interruption, suddenly feeling silly. ¡°Uh, well, Lord Necroton was his superhero name.¡± Silver squinted, looking off as if trying to wrack his brain. ¡°Terrence Fairway?¡± he supplied helpfully.

    ¡°Terrence¡­Terrence.¡± He tapped his chin and pursed his lips. Then his eyes went wide and he stared at Terry in shock. ¡°Terry Fairway? T-Bone? You gotta be shitting me?¡±

    T-Bone? He had never heard that name for his grandfather. And he doubted the Emperor would be pleased to hear it either. ¡°Emperor Necroton,¡± Terry said, emphasizing the honorific. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of anyone named¡­T-Bone.¡±

    ¡°Kid that throws around bones?¡± Silver flung his hand out sideways like he was chucking a frisbee. ¡°Little pissant was barely a B-ranker when I was called for my Capstone.¡±

    Crunch bristled, though thankfully didn¡¯t launch himself at the arrogant powerhouse. Terry got the impression the man wasn¡¯t exactly¡­meticulous, in his use of force. He might level a city block dealing with an attack from Crunch¡ªand Terry with it.

    Though he didn¡¯t care to see Crunch throw his life away at the insult, it was still an insult and Terry felt his hackles rise in defense of his grandfather.

    ¡°The Emperor is an S-ranked powerhouse¡ªand one of the strongest. And if I were you, I wouldn¡¯t be here when he returns from¡ª¡± Terry suddenly realized his mistake and clamped his mouth shut. He had just been about to admit the Emperor wasn¡¯t in the city. He scrambled to think of a convincing lie. ¡°¡ªfrom his survey of the fields. In fact, Crunch, could you send someone ahead to inform the Emperor of Silver¡¯s arrival. I bet he¡¯d like to know that a rogue, unregistered S-ranker is questioning his¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, give it a rest, kid. Your bluster is exhausting.¡± Silver shook his head with a chuckle. ¡°Never woulda pegged little T-Bone as a supervillain in the making.¡± He tilted his head as if acknowledging the other side of his one-sided debate. ¡°Although, looking back, kid was wound tighter than a clock. Took himself way too seriously, now that I think about it.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not a supervillain,¡± Terry protested. For some reason, he had latched onto those words, ignoring the rest of the man¡¯s statement. ¡°He¡¯s the Protector of the Living and Unliving, Emperor of¡ª¡±

    ¡°The Long Night, yeah, I heard ya kid.¡± Silver glanced around, surveying the street and surrounding fog. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m kinda getting supervillain energy here. Dead bodies, population trapped inside the city, an unending night¡ª¡± He waved his hand in front of his face. ¡°¡ªand a fog that smells like roadkill left out in the sun.¡± He nodded to himself. ¡°Yep, definite supervillain energy.¡±

    Before Terry could rebut, the man shrugged. ¡°Anyway, no point arguing with a baby. Lots of things to kill, people to avenge, and so on.¡±

    The man¡¯s knees bent and the fog rushed away. The asphalt rippled, then cracked, and a rush of wind assaulted Terry as the super launched himself into the night sky. The fog swirled where he¡¯d jumped, then filled the space back in, hiding the torn up street below.

    Terry watched the man disappear into the dark, a torrent of thoughts raging inside of him.

    But the loudest thought, the loudest voice in his head, was shouting out the same thing, over and over again.

    That was so freakin¡¯ cool!

 Chapter 10: Survivor

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 55:7:14 18:27 local time)

    (Note: This entry has been edit restricted due to vandalism and anti-super rhetoric)

    Capstone Quest

    Summary

    Very little information is available concerning Capstone Quests and most of what is known has been extrapolated by <u>those of us left behind</u> (marked controversial, consider revising). What we do know, is¡ªunlike the (Midmark Quest)¡ªa Capstone Quest always results in a summons to another place. Whether that place is another world, realm, or a different time is unclear (needs citation).

    The Capstone Quest is the final hurdle before a super reaches the pinnacle of the power ranking ladder, the vaunted S-rank (edit suggestion: unconfirmed that S-rank is highest ranking, needs citation). While supers seem unable or unwilling to discuss the specifics of any of their system-provided Quests, it is confirmed that returning supers always demonstrate a significant increase in powerset scope and strength. The most famous examples are the first (Originals) to return from their Capstone Quest: (Dancer, formerly Disco) and (Tempest), sparking the (Second American Civil War) that resulted in (The Splintering).

    Returning Heroes (in order of confirmed return date)

    <ul>

    <li>(Disco, see: Dancer) (Started Year 12, Returned Year 13)</li>

    <li>(Tempest (Deceased)) (Started Year 11, Returned Year 13)</li>

    <li>(Polaris) (Started Year 13, Returned Year 15)</li>

    <li>(Bug Boy (Deceased)) (Started Year 11, Returned Year 17)</li>

    <li>(Tectonic) (Started Year 10, Returned Year 18)</li>

    </ul>

    (231 entries¡ªclick to expand)

    Heroes Currently Engaged in their Capstone Quest

    <ul>

    <li>(Whitefeather Moon) (Started Year 48)</li>

    <li>(Merlin (see: Merlin ¡ª disambiguation)) (Started Year 51)</li>

    <li>(The Paragon) (Started Year 51) </li>

    <li>(Freedom Fighter) (Started Year 52)</li>

    <li>(Boy Genius) (Started Year 52)</li>

    </ul>

    (37 entries¡ªclick to expand)

    Presumed Dead (missing 10 years or more)

    <ul>

    <li>(Shatterspear) (Started Year 12)</li>

    <li>(A-Bomb) (Started Year 12)</li>

    <li>(Wrecker) (Started Year 13)</li>

    <li>(Teargas) (Started Year 13)</li>

    <li>(Gunmetal) (Started Year 13)</li>

    </ul>

    (178 entries¡ªclick to expand)

    Confirmed Dead

    <ul>

    <li>(Wild Card) (Started Year 16, Confirmed Dead Year 33)</li>

    <li>(El Gato Negro) (Started Year 21, Confirmed Dead Year 23)</li>

    <li>(Apex) (Started Year 26, Confirmed Dead Year 48)</li>

    <li>(Flying Crane) (Started Year 34, Confirmed Dead Year 36)</li>

    <li>(Cryptonix) (Started Year 42, Confirmed Dead Year 42)</li>

    </ul>

    (12 entries¡ªclick to expand)

    <hr>

    The super known as Silver lightly touched down on the rooftop¡¯s edge, his feet whisper soft on the rough brick. Through the dense fog¡ªand exactly seven buildings¡ªhe studied the boy hundreds of feet in the distance. Not with his eyes, but with his other senses. He could hear the blood pumping through veins, the grinding sound of bone shifting on bone, the harsh intake of breath in response.

    And not just the sounds, but the smells, too.

    Fear oozed out in the form of a chemical smell Silver had come to recognize well. There was adrenaline, cortisol, and a dizzying array of other pheromones that painted a picture in his mind.

    The boy was brave¡ªno denying that. Or maybe stupid. Either way, that didn¡¯t explain Silver¡¯s presence here now.

    ¡°Why here, System?¡± He spoke to the air, his voice echoing around him in the fog.

    No one replied.

    At least, not audibly.

    After a few moments, Silver snapped out, his tone tight and clipped.

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ªno, that¡¯s not¡ªNO! Are you kidd¡ª¡± He cut off, his eyes narrowing. His foot ground into the roof, snapping a piece of the brick off. It flew over the edge, disappearing in the fog for a moment before hitting the road below with a crack.

    A minute passed in silence. Finally, his clenching muscles relaxed, his narrowed eyes loosening.

    Softly, he spoke. ¡°I know what I said.¡± A pause. ¡°Fine. That¡¯s how it¡¯s gonna be?¡± He focused his senses on the boy once more, then scanned the surrounding city blocks. ¡°Unless one of his zombies guts him, he¡¯ll live. Now, spill it.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    His voice lowered an octave, his fists clenched tightly.

    ¡°Tell me where Penelope is.¡±

    <hr>

    With Silver¡¯s departure, the reality of the situation hit Terry like a¡ªwell, like a series of cracked ribs. But more than his own personal discomfort, the mounds of bodies, both human and undead, weighed on him like a heavy shroud. Though he knew the draugr had been out of control, knew that if nothing had been done, more innocent civilians would have been cut down, he still felt that each one of those mounds protruding from the fog were on him.

    If only I¡¯d sent for back up, one of the higher-caste undead left behind, maybe¡­

    But there was no one. There were no higher-caste to leash a wild draugr. At least, none that could have made it here fast enough to prevent further bloodshed. Terry didn¡¯t know how a patchwork or two would stack up against a draugr. But then he remembered that Mesmer was still in the city. Maybe he could have stopped the draugr? Or maybe, he would have stopped Terry from even leaving the palace, resulting in even more deaths.

    Still, if he had been smart, if he had been strategic, he could have lured the draugr into a trap. Or led it away from the gates.

    And into the heart of the city, you dummy.

    He pushed those unproductive thoughts away, focusing on the situation in front of him. It had only been a week since Sol¡¯s attack. Only a week since his dislocated shoulder and minor burns. And somehow, he¡¯d found himself in the thick of another battle. The sharp pinching in his chest spoke of broken or fractured ribs, while the band of fire wrapped around his wrist put paid to any idea that he hadn¡¯t shattered it.

    Yet, he was alive. More than he could say for those laying immobile on the street before him.

    Sirens materialized in the distance, sounding distant and muted through the heavy fog. Blue and red lights flashed in his periphery a minute later, signaling the first responders that had finally made it past the pile of abandoned cars.

    Not that it would do any good. Everyone present that wasn¡¯t Terry or undead was a corpse. As for the ghouls¡ªwho, despite the name undead, could very much die¡ªthey had their own system for dealing with their dead.

    A paramedic came into view carrying a medical bag. He was young, barely twenty if Terry had to guess, with pimples dotting his face and patchwork stubble like weeds fighting up through sidewalk. His eyes were wide, the whites uncomfortably visible as he approached Terry and Crunch. When he was only a few feet away, Crunch interposed himself, his teeth grating together in warning.

    To the paramedic¡¯s credit, he wavered but didn¡¯t retreat.

    ¡°He¡¯s injured. I can help,¡± the older boy said with only the slightest quaver in his voice.

    Before Crunch could intimidate the paramedic further, Terry tried to speak. Tried to, because the dust and heavy fog were drying his throat out, and his words turned into a hacking cough.

    That was enough for Crunch to step aside in concern as the paramedic rushed over. He started by checking Terry¡¯s pulse, then moved on to check his eyes with a small flashlight. After a few simple commands, such as follow my finger and take a deep breath¡ªwhich he couldn¡¯t¡ªthe paramedic turned to see Crunch inches from his face. Terry knew the ghoul wasn¡¯t trying to be intimidating, but was staying close enough to strike in case the paramedic turned out to be something other than what he appeared.

    ¡°Crunch,¡± Terry said with a raspy voice. ¡°He¡¯s just a paramedic. Let him work.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my prince. But aura erratic¡ª¡±

    ¡°Prince?¡± the older boy gaped, the small flashlight slipping from his grip. The clatter of the device on the street startled him and he rushed to pick it up. When he stood back up, he was eyeing Terry with both fear and amazement. ¡°So-sorry, my prince.¡±

    Terry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had to remind himself that he had been just as starstruck five minutes earlier with Silver¡¯s display of effortless power. Though, he felt justified in saying that an S-ranker accidentally curb-stomping a powerful undead creature was a bit more impressive than just being a prince by happenstance of birth.

    ¡°Please, it¡¯s fine,¡± Terry said as calmly as he could with his aching chest. ¡°Just do what you need to.¡±

    The older boy nodded, though Terry noted his hands shook just a smidge more than before.

    A hovering, undead killing machine with a mouthful of jagged teeth was less intimidating of a prospect than administering first aid to the prince, Terry mused wryly. In his own mind, there was nothing special about a prince¡ªespecially one that had almost no chance of becoming anything more than that. His father was next in line, and by all accounts, the Emperor would outlive them all as an S-ranker anyway.

    Still, Terry couldn¡¯t fault the older boy. There was a difference between growing up in a palace and being on the outside looking in. Other than the unusual fog and unending night, this was probably the weirdest thing to happen to the paramedic in his entire life.

    Actually, this was the weirdest thing that¡¯s ever happened to me, too! And I was just almost kidnapped by one of my idols only last week.

    He shook his head with a chuckle, then had to wave away the boy¡¯s unasked question when he stopped bandaging Terry¡¯s wrist.

    A few moments later, Crunch¡¯s head shot up and Terry¡¯s heart skipped a beat.

    ¡°What is it, Crunch?¡± He hated the slight tremor in his voice. But the thought of another rogue draugr¡ªor worse, an unregistered S-ranker popping in¡ªwas enough to send his heart racing.

    Then Terry heard it and his entire body flushed with heat. It was a wailing cry echoing in the fog, eerily similar to the sound the draugr had made just before it died.

    ¡°There¡¯s two?¡± he whispered to Crunch.

    But the ghoul didn¡¯t answer, tilting his head. After a tense moment that dragged on for an eternity, the ghoul shook his head.

    ¡°A survivor.¡±

    Now that spurred Terry into action. Before he could even register the fire flaring in his chest, he was off the hood of the car and past the paramedic.

    ¡°Show me.¡± Crunch began to lead him toward the city walls, but Terry stopped him with his good hand. Turning back to the paramedic, he nodded toward the wall. ¡°You coming?¡±

    The older boy¡¯s eyes went wide in surprise, then he hurriedly picked up his bag and jogged after them.

    After only a few steps, it became apparent that Terry was in no shape to lead the search. He waved for Crunch to direct the paramedic while he followed behind. The ghoul agreed, but called out into the fog in his language. A second later, Burg was at their side, supporting Terry¡¯s weight with an arm around his waist.

    Crunch and the paramedic took off at a much quicker pace once Burg had arrived and he didn¡¯t mind following at a more comfortable speed. As he limped through the fog, the sound of screaming grew louder and he was surprised to realize that it wasn¡¯t anything like the draugr¡¯s pitiful mewling.

    Instead, it was the sound of impotent rage¡ªa blood-curdling scream that raised goosebumps along his arms.

    The screams stopped at some point and he was forced to follow Burg¡¯s lead now that he couldn¡¯t echo-locate through the fog. When Crunch and the paramedic came into view, Terry stopped involuntarily, his heart aching at the sight.

    A young girl was pushing the paramedic away, her hair drooped over her face as she clung to the two mounds in front of her. He didn¡¯t need to approach to know that those were her parents¡ªit was written plain as day in the pain in her voice.

    The paramedic tried one more time to check on her and she whirled on him like a feral dog, scratching at him as she screamed incoherently. He flinched away, holding his hands up in surrender. She snarled at him one more time before turning back to her parents¡¯ bodies.

    That spurred Terry forward and he kept his voice low as he approached.

    ¡°Hi there. My name¡¯s Terry and th-this is my fault. I¡­I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    The girl whipped her head around, her nose furled in a snarl. But when she saw Terry limping toward her, the cloud in her eyes cleared.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t you.¡± Her voice was high but full of fire. ¡°Was that damned rotting motherfu¡ª¡± She broke down, her head resting against what appeared to be her mother¡¯s corpse.

    He didn¡¯t know what to say. He didn¡¯t know how to console the girl. No, he knew from experience, there was nothing anyone could say. All he had ever wanted since he¡¯d learned of his mother¡¯s death was to be held. That was all¡­

    ¡°I lost my mother, too. Last¡ª¡± His voice broke and he cleared his throat. She glanced up at him through stringy hair. ¡°Last week, actually. Can I¡­can I give you a hug?¡±

    It sounded so foolish leaving his mouth. A hug? Right here in front of her dead parents? But to his surprise, she nodded¡ªquick, nearly missed.

    Reaching down, he lightly brushed her shoulder. She flinched, but didn¡¯t attack like she had the paramedic. Slowly¡ªand with a lot of pain¡ªhe crouched down and put one arm around her shoulders. He didn¡¯t pull her in but just gave her that little bit of pressure to let her know he was there.

    Suddenly, she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. He gasped as a fire hotter than Sol¡¯s supernova ignited in his chest. His arms went weak and he fell back with a cry.

    ¡°My prince!¡± Crunch cried.

    ¡°You¡¯re hurt,¡± the girl said at the same time, pulling her weight off to stare down at him with accusation in her eyes.

    The paramedic bent down, reaching around her to get at Terry. He cut away Terry¡¯s shirt with scissors from his bag.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­nothing¡­¡± Terry said through gritted teeth. ¡°Just¡­got¡­in a¡­fight¡­draugr.¡± His lungs were squeezed tight and he gasped.

    ¡°You fought it,¡± the girl whispered. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at him.

    He smiled weakly, then realized that the air wouldn¡¯t come. He clutched at his chest with his good hand, but his lungs had iron bands around them. Above him, Crunch was shouting something, but his brain wasn¡¯t working. All he could think was: air, I need air!

    Hands touched his chest, spiking pain that felt far away. He tried to grab those hands, but something powerful grabbed him instead, pinning him down.

    His eyes locked on the paramedic, then tracked down to what he was holding. In his hand was a far-too-large needle¡­and he was holding it above Terry¡¯s chest.

    No, that doesn¡¯t go there, his brain thought weakly.

    Before he could tell the paramedic he was mistaken, his vision tunneled in and everything went black.

 Chapter 11: Two Orphans, a Ghoul, and a Paramedic

    Something jostled Terry and he flinched awake. Fire immediately flared across his entire body and he groaned.

    A voice spoke over him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move.¡±

    Couldn¡¯t if I wanted to¡­

    His chest hurt worse than any pain he¡¯d ever felt in his life. Every breath met resistance and triggered stabbing pain at the same time. His arm from the elbow down felt encased in molten lava. His head swam and he wondered if he¡¯d gotten another concussion from the draugr launching him into the car.

    Those were like, super bad for you and I¡¯ve gotten two in a single week¡­

    Dr. Wong¡¯s powers may have been miraculous, but Terry didn¡¯t think even he could heal head injuries.

    Bright light filtered in behind his lids and he strained to open them. Whatever he was laying on jostled him again and a flash of annoyance came, then went.

    Who keeps knocking into me? he wondered.

    Then he managed to peel his eyelids back and saw a familiar, pimply face looking down at him, his chin covered in peach fuzz.

    ¡°You should shave that.¡±

    The words left his mouth of their own accord and he tried desperately to claw them back. He felt mortified as the paramedic¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡ª¡±

    He was jostled a third time, pain in his chest knifing into him, and he nearly lost it.

    ¡°Who keeps¡ª¡±

    Then his mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing and he clamped his mouth shut.

    You¡¯re in an ambulance, dummy.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he repeated. ¡°I think I have a concussion.¡±

    The older boy snorted. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d say.¡± His eyes tracked down to Terry¡¯s chest, where a tube literally stuck out of it.

    ¡°That¡­that¡¯s not right.¡±

    ¡°You shoulda seen him stick that syringe in you. I nearly threw up.¡±

    Terry tried to whip his head around, not realizing there was someone on the other side of him. The attempt sent his head spinning and he moaned.

    After what felt like an hour, but was probably only a minute, the spinning slowed enough for him to glance over from the side of his eye.

    The girl that had been crying over her parents was sitting there, an IV hanging out of her arm. She was munching on a bar of granola, tearing it away with her teeth unceremoniously as she eyed him.

    For some reason, it felt wrong that she was eating so soon after her parents¡¯ death. But then he realized that was stupid. It was his own hangup that kept him from eating and not something he should force on others who¡¯d lost family.

    ¡°You¡¯re here.¡±

    She waved her bar toward the paramedic.

    ¡°He insisted. Gonna take me to the hospital for some reason.¡± She took another monstrous bite, speaking past the granola. ¡°Ayfta we dwap yew off.¡±

    He scrunched up his face.

    ¡°Sorry?¡±

    She held out a finger and took a big swallow¡ªthere was no way she chewed that enough¡ªthen repeated the words, but in English this time.

    ¡°After we drop you off, I said.¡±

    ¡°Drop me off?¡±

    The paramedic filled in the details.

    ¡°He¡­it¡­I don¡¯t know, your bodyguard, said you have a healer supe back at the palace. I wanted to take you to the hospital, but he was¡­insistent.¡±

    ¡°Crunch?¡± Terry asked, realizing what they were dancing around. ¡°Where is he?¡±

    Before either could answer, a clacking sound echoed on the roof of the vehicle. The back door swung open, causing all three of them to jump in surprise. The girl choked on her bar, Terry clutched at his chest with his good hand, and the paramedic cursed the ghoul quietly before letting out a deep breath.

    ¡°My prince?¡± Crunch asked, hanging from the roof by one hand as the doors banged lightly against him from the movement of the van.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay, Crunch.¡± He looked between the three of them, fielding the question for them all. ¡°What happened?¡±

    The girl was the first to speak.

    ¡°It¡¯s my fault.¡± She went to raise the bar back to her mouth, then let it drop. ¡°I broke your rib and it stabbed your lung or something.¡±

    He narrowed his eyes at that explanation. He very much doubted she had broken his rib¡ªshe looked to be barely eighty pounds.

    ¡°You must have had a cracked or already broken rib,¡± the paramedic added. ¡°When she hugged you, it probably pushed it into your lung and it collapsed.¡±

    ¡°I give really good hugs,¡± she joked, but the smile didn¡¯t touch her eyes.

    Terry recognized the pain there, the way she was hiding it by filling the silence, making those jokes. He¡¯d felt that pain¡ªwas still feeling it. He just dealt with it differently.

    Crunch took that moment to swing all the way into the van, pulling the doors shut behind him.

    Seeing the ghoul brought him back to the fight and he realized he didn¡¯t know the cost they¡¯d paid to bring the draugr down.

    ¡°Crunch, how many¡ª¡± A painful cough wracked his body.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be talking.¡± The paramedic shook his head. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re still conscious.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Good genetics,¡± Terry croaked. He looked toward Crunch, feeling the weight of that question on his mind. ¡°How many?¡±

    How many ghouls and humans did we lose¡­

    ¡°Forty-seven humans¡ª¡± The paramedic gasped. The girl flinched out of the corner of his eye. He regretted that¡­but he needed to know.

    ¡°Your brothers?¡± Terry asked softly.

    The ghoul had no visible reaction but he knew that didn¡¯t mean Crunch wasn¡¯t feeling the hurt, only that he¡¯d express it in his own way.

    ¡°Seven brothers.¡±

    Pain that wasn¡¯t due to his ribs stabbed at his chest. Seven ghouls, dead because of him, because he¡¯d wanted to go explore the farms, even though he knew he shouldn¡¯t.

    But worse than that was the debt now on his family for those forty-seven people¡ªincluding this girl¡¯s parents.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­your loss.¡± Talking was so hard, but the words he wanted to say¡ªneeded to say¡ªwere even harder. ¡°This is my¡­family¡¯s fault and I will¡­¡± He trailed off. He had been about to say, ¡®make this right.¡¯ There was no making it right. He shook his head lightly, the simple motion causing another round of dizziness.

    The girl didn¡¯t say anything, her eyes boring into the far wall of the ambulance. The bar moved mechanically to her mouth and she took a far-too-large bite out of it.

    A somber mood settled over the occupants and Terry scanned for a distraction. His eyes locked on the paramedic¡¯s name tag, faltering a moment. It reminded him that his father wasn¡¯t in the city¡ªmight even be in the thick of the fighting right now.

    ¡°Thank you¡­James. For saving me.¡±

    He seemed taken aback by that, his eyebrows rising.

    ¡°Least I could do, my prince.¡±

    ¡°Terry. Please.¡±

    He turned to the girl, but his lungs felt tight and he couldn¡¯t pull in the air he needed to ask her name. She eyed him, her jaw working to knead the tough granola. After a minute, she swallowed with an audible gulp.

    ¡°Titania.¡±

    Her eyes scanned the three of them, a fire burning there like she was ready to pounce. James cleared his throat.

    ¡°Beautiful name.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

    He held up his hands. ¡°No, really. I, uh¡­Shakespeare, right?¡±

    She pursed her lips, her posture relaxing. Terry got the impression she was letting him off the hook. He didn¡¯t know exactly what the girl had intended if they had laughed, but he wasn¡¯t in a state to find out.

    She sighed wearily. ¡°Yes, a Midsummer¡¯s Night Dream. My mom is a¡ª¡± She looked away, sniffing to hide the hitch in her voice. ¡°She was a big fan.¡± Looking back at us, she frowned. ¡°Stupid name, I know. People call me Tania.¡±

    ¡°Pleasure to meet you, Tania,¡± James said. ¡°Call me Jimmy.¡±

    She pursed her lips and nodded. ¡°Jimmy''s much better. James is so stiff. Like you¡¯re a banker or something.¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s my dad¡¯s name.¡±

    Terry snorted at that. ¡°Mine, too.¡± He looked over at Tania¡ªslowly. ¡°Terry, please.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Ain¡¯t callin¡¯ you prince anyhow.¡± A wry smile touched her lips. ¡°Terry¡¯s a nice name, though.¡±

    ¡°Crunch.¡±

    The sound filled the ambulance, shocking them all silent. Jimmy¡¯s eyes were wide, while Tania¡¯s mouth gaped open, letting bits of granola slip out. She hastily wiped at the crumbs that fell onto her shirt, then turned back to Crunch.

    ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± Jimmy added. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you lot had human names.¡± His mouth dropped open in surprise and he spoke quickly. ¡°Sorry, no offense or anything.¡±

    Crunch didn¡¯t express any reaction to his words.

    ¡°Prince give. Crunch like.¡±

    He let those words hang in the air, as if that were explanation enough.

    Tania nodded, rocking back and forth. ¡°Ain''t we the sight. Two orphans, a ghoul, and a paramedic.¡± A wry smile touched her lips but stopped there. He recognized the pain in her eyes¡ªit reminded him of his own reflection the few times he¡¯d managed to look in the mirror.

    Terry admired her strength, the ability to pretend to be normal even if her world was collapsing all around her. He wasn¡¯t that strong¡ªnot yet¡ªbut it gave him a goal, an example to follow.

    I never thought I¡¯d admire a teenage girl, he thought with an inward chuckle.

    The divider separating the cab from the back slid open, causing Terry and Tania to flinch. Jimmy looked up expectantly.

    ¡°Palace is up ahead,¡± a voice called from the front.

    ¡°Roger, thanks Liam.¡±

    The divider slid shut with a click.

    ¡°Alright, my prin¡ªI mean, Terry. Liam and I are gonna take you out on the gurney once we¡¯ve confirmed there¡¯s a healer nearby.¡±

    The thought of being wheeled into the palace made his skin flush.

    ¡°I can walk, really!¡± A wracking cough took him and he felt lightheaded by the end of it.

    Jimmy tilted his head, his eyebrows rising in doubt. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend it. In fact, I really doubt you even cou¡ª¡±

    His voice was desperate. ¡°Please! I¡­I need to.¡±

    He didn¡¯t know why, but there was something inside of him that urged him to get up. As if letting himself be wheeled in would cheapen the real injuries the others had sustained. Yes, his chest hurt. Yes, his entire forearm ached worse than when Sol had burned him. But none of those injuries would keep him from standing. If he wanted to be a superhero that inspired hope and pride like his mother had, he couldn¡¯t start that journey on a gurney. There would be much worse injuries in his future¡ªinjuries he¡¯d have to fight through to save innocents. Would he give up and ask for a gurney then?

    He locked eyes with Crunch, and though he didn¡¯t have the aura control to know if it was working, he projected his need as powerfully as he could.

    Whether or not it worked, Crunch seemed to understand how important this was to him.

    ¡°Prince walk.¡±

    Jimmy seemed torn, looking toward Tania as his only ally. Unfortunately for him, she seemed crazier than the three of them combined.

    ¡°He¡¯s got a damn super healer on call. I think he can make it a couple of feet to the stairs.¡±

    Jimmy frowned, then seeing he was outvoted, he shrugged.

    ¡°Okay¡­but I¡¯d really appreciate it if this didn¡¯t come back on me,¡± he said as he unbuckled the straps holding Terry in place.

    Terry tried to speak to let him know he would never allow that. But the pain in his chest flared white hot when the strap came loose. He moved his hand to prop himself up, then hissed as he realized it was his broken wrist he had moved.

    He held out his good hand toward Crunch and the ghoul obliged, helping him slowly to his feet. Jimmy came in behind and supported his torso until he was at a full stand. A wave of dizziness took him and he was forced to lean on Crunch while he caught his breath.

    ¡°You sure?¡± Jimmy asked.

    Terry nodded but couldn¡¯t speak. It was taking everything inside of him not to cry out in pain. When he finally caught his breath, Crunch helped him down the ambulance step and onto the familiar road that formed a roundabout in front of the palace¡¯s main entrance.

    Terry was immediately struck by the noise and movement around him as he emerged from the ambulance. The confines of the van had been like a cocoon, shielding him from the outside world. Now that he was in front of the palace, the sounds of a hundred soldiers, ghouls, and other personnel filled his ears.

    Jimmy came down from the back and held his good arm by the elbow.

    ¡°I have to at least see you to the healer. It¡¯s my medical obligation.¡± He glanced back at Tania and his partner, Liam. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t have the air in his lungs to argue. They started forward, moving into the bustle that filled the palace steps.

    A soldier jostled into Jimmy, which bumped the paramedic into him. He cried out, his legs losing strength as bone ground together inside his chest. Crunch whipped around, growling at the soldier who mumbled apologies before hurrying away.

    As they continued up the steps, the press grew heavier and Crunch was openly intimidating anyone that got within arm¡¯s reach. Burg and Bloodstain hurried over at his call, but the palace was a hive of activity, everyone moving at a near run.

    ¡°My prince!¡±

    A voice called out from the entrance, but Terry didn¡¯t have the height to see over the crowd. The voice echoed out again, but it was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other.

    A wave of¡­something, passed over the crowd. Terry knew instinctively that it was a super¡¯s power. For a moment, he feared another attack had come. He found he couldn¡¯t muster the energy to care.

    Whoever it is, they can have me.

    ¡°Eyes on me,¡± a powerful voice called out.

    The murmurs and shouted orders of the surrounding personnel instantly died out and the chaos became unusually orderly. Terry glanced up from his feet, where he had been willing them forward, one in front of the other. Surprise managed to break through his exhaustion.

    Every man and woman were standing in rigid straight lines, their eyes wide as they looked up toward the palace entrance, away from Terry.

    Standing there with a look of fury, was Dr. Wong.

    He should be mad, Terry thought. I clearly overtaxed my body. I made more work for him¡­

    Next to Dr. Wong, stood a familiar figure. His hands were steepled in front of him, but his eyes were tight in concentration. It took Terry a moment to realize what he was seeing.

    Mesmer was projecting a working, bringing the crowd under his sway. A path was cleared up the stairs as everyone in sight stood in rapt attention.

    The revenant¡¯s eyes relaxed, shifting to Terry. But his lips pursed tight.

    ¡°Come forward now, my prince. They will not impede you.¡±

 Chapter 12: Sent to the Revenants Office

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 52:1:90 03:56 local time)

    Cillian Fletcher (War Crimes)

    Summary

    Cillian Fletcher (chosen super moniker: War Crimes), is an A-ranked Duelist (confirmed) and an expert marksman, weapon specialist, and demolitionist. He has served as a super mercenary, gun-for-hire, and in his last years of activity, was condemned as a terrorist for his actions in (The Ugandan Massacre) and (The Dallas Fort Worth Hostage Incident).

    In Year 37, he was cornered by a joint task force of independent supers, including (Sol), (The Council), (Team Dallas), and (Emperor Necroton). He held Dallas Fort Worth International hostage with high-grade explosives, but was eventually apprehended by (Rocket) from (Team Dallas) and (Emperor Necroton) of Wichita, the latter turning War Crimes into one of his revenants.

    The super community initially condemned Emperor Necroton for taking War Crimes as his revenant, claiming that the man was avoiding punishment for his atrocities. (Team Dallas) and (The Council) requested that (Dancer) intervene. A special Tribunal was held in Dallas to determine the fate of War Crimes. However, at the Tribunal (The White Rose) argued that eternity as a revenant was a punishment worse than death. (Dancer) ultimately ruled in (Emperor Necroton)¡¯s favor.

    Powerset

    War Crimes employs his advanced physical stats to perform feats of marksmanship that appear to defy the laws of physics (edit suggestion: restate, needs citation). Chemical analysis of retrieved bullets indicate a unique alloy which suggests homemade bullets. In addition, the undetonated explosives in (The Dallas Fort Worth Hostage Incident) showed signs of chemical modification, increasing the stability and yield. This led to speculation that War Crimes was a Catalyst class super before transitioning to Duelist during his (Midmark Quest). This would mark War Crimes as one of the few known supers to experience a (Triple-Jump Class Shift) from a (Midmark Quest) (needs citation).

    + Catalyst (F to C) ¡ª Unconfirmed

    (click to expand)

    + Duelist (C to A)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    He served as an independent contractor for most of his super career. After his capture, he was turned into a revenant by (Emperor Necroton) of Wichita.

    Personal Life

    (no data)

    Notable Exploits

    (The Ugandan Massacre)

    (click to expand)

    (The Dallas Fort Worth Hostage Incident)

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    Fifteen steps separated Terry and Dr. Wong.

    Turned out, he didn¡¯t have fifteen steps in him. He went down to a knee, Jimmy losing his grip on Terry¡¯s elbow in surprise. Crunch steadied him, but Terry didn¡¯t have the strength to stand anymore.

    Stand up, Terry. Stand. Up!

    A cooling balm entered his body, a sensation like a fan directed at sweat-soaked skin. First, the iron band around his chest eased. Then, the burning fire in his wrist faded. And finally, the wave of nausea from his dizziness began to relax its grip on his stomach.

    A voice cut through the fog in Terry¡¯s brain, full of heat.

    ¡°Why is he walking?¡± the voice demanded. ¡°Don¡¯t you have a gurney or a backboard!¡±

    ¡°Ye-yes! He in-insisted.¡± That was Jimmy speaking. Why did he sound so terrif¡ªoh¡­

    Terry lifted his head to see Dr. Wong staring down the young paramedic, his face contorted in ugly rage.

    ¡°Since when do we let patients dictate the needs of care?¡± He loomed over the boy, the magical green fire in his eyes giving him a dangerous air. ¡°Especially thirteen-year-old boys!¡±

    Terry raised a hand feebly.

    ¡°Dr. Wong, please¡ª¡±

    ¡°I want your name and your supervisor¡¯s name. When I¡¯m done with you, you won¡¯t even be allowed to volunteer at a dog shelter!¡±

    Terry put one leg under him, desperate to get the doctor¡¯s attention. He reached his bad hand toward Crunch¡ªhis good one still held by Jimmy¡ªand levered himself to a stand.

    ¡°Pl-please, I wa-was just doi¡ª¡±

    ¡°Doing what? Nearly killing the Emperor¡¯s grandson on the palace steps?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±

    The third voice cut across whatever reply Jimmy was forming and Dr. Wong looked over his shoulder at Mesmer.

    The former villain took the steps deliberately, not rushing in his approach. He kept his hands clasped in front of his waist as his cold eyes regarded the scene.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hear the young man¡¯s story.¡± He turned to regard the doctor, a sharp focus that seemed to lock onto its target. ¡°Inside, where every maid, soldier, and undead can¡¯t hear the tale. The servant¡¯s quarters and the barracks will already be abuzz with this scene. Let¡¯s not compound the mistake such that the Emperor hears of it, hm?¡±

    Dr. Wong¡¯s eyes went wide and he hastily nodded.

    Jimmy leaned back, as if entering the palace were a death sentence.

    ¡°Ple-please! I¡¯ll send in m-my resignation. Just let me¡ª¡±

    The revenant¡¯s gaze turned on Jimmy like a lion spotting prey.

    ¡°In¡­side.¡±

    Terry had been reeling from the sudden healing and the doctor¡¯s heated exchange with Jimmy, but he finally felt his wits¡ªand breath¡ªreturning.

    ¡°There¡¯s someone else that needs medical attention in the ambulance.¡± Three sets of eyes whipped toward him and he suddenly felt pinned in place as if the draugr had returned and flared its aura. But now that he had recovered a bit, he felt indignant at the way his new friend was being treated and the prospect of Tania being stuck out in the ambulance for who knew how long. ¡°They were going to take her to the hospital, but now that you¡¯re here, you can check her, right Dr. Wong?¡±

    The doctor sighed. Despite his nasty mood, he was at his core, a healer. Terry knew without a speck of doubt that if the man came across a dying rat, he¡¯d heal the thing and send it on its little vermin way.

    Still, he turned to the revenant for confirmation.

    ¡°Fine,¡± the revenant responded with a nod. ¡°Crunch, if you please?¡±

    Terry¡¯s shadow loped off and returned a moment later with an annoyed looking Tania and Jimmy¡¯s terrified partner, Liam.

    The revenant looked around once and closed his eyes. A wave of power washed over them, relaxing the hold on the servants and soldiers. His voice boomed out for all to hear.

    ¡°It would be wise of you all to remember: the Emperor hears and sees everything within the purview of his domain. But our enemies also have eyes and ears. Gossip and conjecture are acceptable pastimes¡­when we are at peace.¡± His gaze seemed to take in everyone at once, a heavy weight that shrouded the entire palace steps. ¡°Go. Return to your tasks.¡±

    With that, the soldiers saluted, the servants bowed, and the undead set off.

    Turning back to Terry, Jimmy, Crunch, Tania, and Liam, he pursed his lips.

    ¡°Follow me inside.¡±

    He turned on his heels and took the steps at a leisurely pace, switching his clasping hands behind him as he walked.

    Terry and Dr. Wong shared a look, and the healer simply shrugged his shoulders and turned to follow.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± he asked as Terry fell into step beside him.

    How am I feeling? Terry wondered. Thirty seconds ago, he was sure he was one gasp away from passing out again. His right wrist had felt like it was doused in Sol¡¯s flame and his chest stabbed with every slight intake of breath.

    But now¡­?

    ¡°I feel pretty good,¡± he replied. ¡°A little groggy, but my wrist¡¯s numb now and¡ª¡± He took an experimental breath, feeling a tightness, but no sharp pain. ¡°¡ªI can breathe, so that¡¯s a plus.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Dr. Wong nodded, then looked over his shoulder down the stairs. He paused and turned back around.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to stay there, if you like. But the revenant speaks with the Emperor¡¯s voice.¡± He shrugged, turning back around. ¡°I would suggest you listen, for your own sakes.¡±

    Terry looked back to see Jimmy and Liam glancing furtively at their ambulance. Judging from their half-turned bodies, they had been considering making a break for the vehicle. In between them, Tania scowled, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

    He felt responsible for the three of them being pulled into this situation and didn¡¯t want to see them tracked down in a day or two to be dragged back to the palace. There was nothing to fear from Mesmer¡ªhe was fair, if stern. Now, if it were War Crimes holding down the fort, Terry would have been concerned. But Mes was his friend. He¡¯d understand just how much they owed Jimmy once Terry explained.

    He leaned on Crunch and took a couple steps down to be out of earshot of Dr. Wong.

    ¡°I won¡¯t let anything happen to you three.¡± He glanced back to see the doctor waiting with an impatient set to his lips at the top of the stairs before the man turned and went inside. ¡°I promise.¡±

    Jimmy and Liam shared one more furtive glance, then Jimmy nodded toward Terry.

    ¡°I trust him.¡±

    Liam craned his head up, closing his eyes.

    ¡°How did I get here?¡± he muttered. When he looked back down, he nodded once. ¡°Fine, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Tania scoffed, casting Liam a dismissive look. ¡°Like you got a choice, dummy.¡±

    Liam¡¯s face darkened, but before he could fire back, the girl was practically stomping up the stairs, her arms crossed the entire way.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give her a pass because of¡­you know,¡± Liam said. ¡°But if she keeps this up, I¡¯m leaving her ass here.¡± Then he was following the girl, his head whipping left and right like he was expecting someone to spring up out of nowhere and arrest him.

    Terry gave Jimmy an apologetic look. The paramedic shrugged, a half-smile touching his lips.

    ¡°Not your fault, Terry. Come on, I really don¡¯t wanna leave that guy waiting.¡±

    With Crunch¡¯s help, Terry followed Jimmy up the steps at a quick walk. When they entered the palace proper, the foot traffic of soldiers, servants, and undead seemed to double. It was like a kicked beehive and the four of them loitered around the entry way as they tried to find Tania, Dr. Wong, and Mesmer. At his stature, Terry found that he was useless in the search, seeing as every adult in sight towered over him.

    ¡°Crunch, do you see them?¡±

    ¡°We should just go, man.¡±

    ¡°Are you mental? What, so the rotters can come kick down my parents'' door in a few hours?¡±

    Jimmy and Liam were arguing in muted tones, but not so muted that Terry and Crunch couldn¡¯t hear.

    ¡°You run, I chase.¡±

    Crunch hadn¡¯t even turned to look at them as he spoke. But both boys flinched at his grating words, hunkering down between their shoulders like they wanted to melt into the ground.

    ¡°Fuck, he heard us?¡± Liam muttered.

    ¡°The entire room can hear you,¡± Terry fired back, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. ¡°Will you two just trust me? You¡¯re gonna be fine. But not if you try and flee.¡± He watched them a moment longer, hoping the reality of the situation would finally penetrate through the thick wave of terror enveloping them. ¡°You haven¡¯t done anything wrong, so just¡­relax.¡±

    Before they could respond, Crunch lightly tapped his shoulder.

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°Lead the way, Crunch.¡±

    He didn¡¯t bother to check if Liam and Jimmy were following¡ªhe had done as much as he could to convince them. They¡¯d either follow or they wouldn¡¯t.

    But a small smile formed on his face when he heard their quiet muttering behind him as they walked a few steps back. He owed Jimmy for saving his life and would have been sad if the boy had gotten on Mesmer¡¯s bad side¡ªnot to mention the doctor already calling for his head.

    As Crunch led the way through the entrance hall, Terry finally spotted a fuming Tania sitting on one of the red and gold velvet chairs that lined the far wall. Somehow, her arms seemed crossed even harder and she was making no attempts to hide the daggers she was shooting at the revenant¡¯s back. The older supe was whispering in low tones with a robed lich and a giant ghoul who wore a golden torc around his neck. Terry knew this to be a marker of leadership and was only aware of three ghouls given the honor. Which surprised him, because he would have assumed the higher ups among the undead would all be fighting in Topeka right now.

    Dr. Wong saw them approaching and waved them over.

    ¡°The undead leadership are discussing damage control,¡± he whispered to Terry. Tania subtly leaned closer to eavesdrop, but the doctor didn¡¯t seem to mind. ¡°No one seems to understand how a draugr could have openly attacked a Fairway, let alone you, my prince.¡±

    Tania shot up from her chair, sending it back into the wall with a clatter. ¡°And what about the fifty other humans that piece of shit murdered?¡± she growled.

    Mesmer glanced over, a single brow arched, and the fire dimmed ever so slightly. But she continued to stand there defiantly, her eyes narrowed at the doctor.

    Dr. Wong seemed about to reply, but Mesmer dismissed the two undead with a nod and approached them.

    ¡°Let¡¯s step into my office for a debrief.¡±

    Dr. Wong¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°All of us?¡± He seemed to be indicating the paramedics and Tania with that question.

    His cold gaze cut across each of them, before he turned and started walking.

    ¡°All of you.¡±

    Jimmy and Liam seemed to think that was somehow worst-case scenario for them and Terry felt like he could practically hear their legs trembling. But this far into the palace, they were committed and to their credit, followed Dr. Wong and the revenant.

    Leaving Terry to suffer under Tania¡¯s glare.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just leave me in that ambulance, huh?¡±

    Before he could answer, she was storming off, her tiny feet echoing far louder than they had any right to.

    ¡°I was trying to be considerate,¡± he muttered to himself. He looked toward Crunch for support, but the ghoul¡¯s expression was always unreadable. With a sigh, he took off after the girl, not wanting to be the reason they had to wait.

    Behind Terry, Crunch lingered a half-second. The ghoul felt eyes on him and a powerful aura very purposefully exposed in his direction. The message was clear: a failure in duty had consequences. He turned his head to regard his Elder, nodding in tacit understanding before he moved to follow his charge.

    <hr>

    Terry, Tania, and Crunch soon caught up to the others as they followed the hallways deeper into the palace. The soldiers and servants ran or fast walked to either side of the group, recognizing the revenant and giving way.

    Even at a leisurely pace as dictated by Mesmer, they arrived outside a plain door in only a couple of minutes. Despite its nondescript nature, the two ghouls standing on either side marked this particular door as important. There were no plaques or markers that this was the revenant¡¯s office, but ghouls weren¡¯t in such high supply that they guarded just any door¡ªespecially with the bulk of the army marching on Topeka.

    Without a word, one of the ghouls opened the door as they arrived and Terry wondered if Mesmer was using aura. He recommitted himself to really investing in learning the skill, now that he realized just how vital it truly was. And it wasn¡¯t solely from interest in protecting himself from rogue undead like the draugr¡ªlearning to communicate silently was like discovering a secret language and secret languages were awesome.

    As soon as I¡¯m out of this mess, I need to setup a schedule with Crunch to really dive into aura control.

    Although, with the way Jimmy and Liam were acting and Mesmer¡¯s cold demeanor, he was beginning to feel like they were all in for the scolding of a lifetime.

    He could hear it now.

    How could you be so irresponsible as to sneak out of the palace? And then, instead of running for help, you engaged with the draugr?

    It sounded pretty stupid now that he thought back on it. But in the moment, he hadn¡¯t seen any other way. People were dying. In hindsight, though, he understood that he should have gone for help¡ªhe¡¯d only been condemning his ghoul bodyguards to death by confronting the draugr.

    If Silver hadn¡¯t shown up¡­we¡¯d all be dead.

    That somber reminder amped his nerves, augmenting the already shaky sensation imparted by the healing magic still coursing through his limbs.

    When he followed Mesmer into the room, his self-recrimination was briefly short circuited as he took in the room. They¡¯d always done their lessons in the library, so he¡¯d never seen the revenant¡¯s office.

    It was a large circular space with two-story tall bookshelves lining the walls. Two sets of attached ladders hung on tracks so that they could be slid into position to retrieve any book in the collection.

    And it was quite the collection. Equal parts leatherbound tomes and contemporary books lined the shelves, though they were quite clearly separated from each other. He scanned around in a circle, taking in the books, marveling at the sight. He was quite certain no one could have consumed every book in the room, and yet, the revenant didn¡¯t seem to be a man too focused on vanity.

    In fact, the room itself seemed designed for personal comfort rather than for hosting important people.

    A lounge couch was nestled underneath broad windows where a pile of books stood off-kilter, looking out on what must have once been a magnificent sight of the city, before the darkness and heavy fog ruined the view. A half-finished cup of something rested on the nearby side table, while an open book was propped over the couch, open but facedown to save the page.

    The sight told a story of someone mid beverage, enjoying a good book before suddenly being summoned due to a certain prince¡¯s misadventures. He hoped Mesmer wouldn¡¯t hold it against him¡­

    The revenant waved a hand casually as he leaned back against his desk.

    ¡°Take a seat wherever you like. Please excuse the mess.¡±

    Terry, Tania, and the two paramedics hesitated at the pleasant tone. Liam and Jimmy¡¯s theatrics had almost convinced him that Mesmer was on the verge of sending them all to the dungeon. Most of the adults in his life possessed a fiery disposition and were quick to anger, so he had been ready for Mesmer to rip into them. If the Emperor were here now, Terry could very easily imagine the man addressing them all in full superhero regalia, simply for the effect. But Mesmer¡¯s suddenly pleasant disposition was like a salve after the frenetic energy of the past hour.

    Wait...Was he using his powers on us or am I just being paranoid? Not that I mind if it''ll calm the others down, but still...

    Dr. Wong was first to sit, taking one of the two leather chairs facing the desk and settling back with a weary sigh. Liam and Jimmy regarded the last remaining chair with open-eyed terror. Liam nudged Jimmy forward, clearly not eager to place himself within arm¡¯s reach of the revenant. Jimmy discreetly elbowed the boy back, growling something quietly.

    Terry let them both off the hook and sunk into the chair, directly under the revenant¡¯s gaze. The two boys let out audible sighs of relief, moving to a nearby couch instead.

    Tania, on the other hand, crossed her arms and stood stock-still, her obvious annoyance at being dragged into the situation clear as day in the set of her lips.

    Crunch remained by the door, as he so often did.

    After everyone was settled, Terry turned back to see Mesmer¡¯s lips turned up in a wry smile.

    Was he¡­amused?

    ¡°Thank you all, for giving me your time.¡±

    Thank you? Okay, now I¡¯m really confused.

    ¡°I promise not to take any more of it than necessary.¡±

    Behind him, Tania grumbled. ¡°Too late.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide at the clear and blatant disrespect, but the revenant took it in stride.

    ¡°I¡¯ll address the young lady first, since she has suffered the greatest tragedy of the night.¡±

    The girl huffed, the dam finally breaking under the pressure of the night.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t no lady. And you ain¡¯t wasting my time, cause your freak killed my parents!¡± She shouted the last part, causing Jimmy and Liam to flinch as one.

    Terry purposefully kept his eyes forward, feeling his adrenaline spike from the secondhand confrontation. She had every right to be angry. Every right to yell or cry or demand recompense in some form.

    It was what Terry wished he had been able to do when his father had brought that news.

    Dr. Wong apparently didn¡¯t agree that losing your parents was a hall pass for insolence. He turned around in his chair, flecks of green magic flaring in his eyes.

    ¡°You are in the palace, Tania. Not your own house. Show some respect!¡±

    A snarl formed on her face and she took two steps toward the doctor, her arms flinging out defiantly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a home, doctor!¡± She wielded his title like an insult. ¡°Like I said, your undead freak took that from me!¡±

    Terry saw Dr. Wong start to rise¡ªhe didn¡¯t know what for, to yell back, hit the girl, or worse¡ªbut Mesmer reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. The man glanced over in surprise, noticed the revenant¡¯s placid expression, then settled back into his chair with a heavy sigh.

    ¡°Apologies, Seb. It was not my place to speak.¡±

    ¡°I think it is Tania who we owe an apology to,¡± Mesmer replied, his eyes settling on the girl. Terry felt his own eyes magnetically drawn to follow the man¡¯s gaze. Her chest was heaving, her eyes wild, an unspent energy gathering just beneath the surface. ¡°You have my deepest apologies, Tania. We cannot ever replace what was taken from you.¡±

    Then, the revenant bowed deeply, eliciting a look of surprise from the doctor. But Terry suddenly understood how right Mesmer was. They owed Tania an unpayable debt for the loss of her parents. And she was clearly feeling alone, angry, and maybe even scared¡ªthough he doubted the girl was one to admit it.

    So he stood with shaky legs, pushing back his chair weakly. He turned to look at Tania, who had angry tears dripping down her cheeks.

    His voice was a whisper as he fought to hold back his own tears.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry for your lo¡ª¡± Was all he managed to get out before his voice broke. He bowed quickly, hiding his face so that she wouldn¡¯t see his tears.

    He held the bow, seeing Dr. Wong¡¯s weight shift as he too pushed back his chair and stood up.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking straight, Tania. Please accept my apology.¡±

    A voice like a foot crunching on broken glass filled the room.

    ¡°Apologies. For draugr.¡±

    Terry glanced up to see Crunch bowing, so taken aback by the display that his tears were forgotten. The four of them were bent at the waist, facing Tania, whose expression of absolute fury had melted into open-mouthed shock. To the side, the two paramedics were also wide-eyed, and Jimmy elbowed Liam before starting to rise.

    Tania¡¯s head whipped around at them with a look that froze the boy mid stand. Liam reached up blindly and gripped Jimmy¡¯s arm, pulling him back into the embrace of the couch.

    Terry felt like they were bowed before the girl for minutes, though he knew it was really less than a handful of seconds. He used those seconds to fight down the lump in his throat, but could do nothing for the tears traitorously dripping down his cheeks to the carpet below.

    After a moment, the girl cry-snorted and Terry saw her shake away her own tears with a whip of her head.

    ¡°Will you all stand up. You look ridiculous.¡±

    Terry felt Mesmer rise behind him and followed suit. The doctor and Crunch stood upright as well and an awkward silence filled the room.

    Tania chewed her lip, looking around before rolling her eyes, a choked laugh fighting through the tears.

    ¡°Emperor help me, somebody say something.¡±

    In a move that surprised Terry, Jimmy cleared his throat.

    ¡°Uh, sorry for your loss,¡± he said quietly.

    Her expression stiffened, then she nodded thanks toward the paramedic.

    ¡°Doctor,¡± Mesmer said suddenly. ¡°If you please, the girl needs your special attention. Her aura is in tatters and I¡¯m sure the adrenaline of the night is masking other injuries.¡±

    The doctor nodded and approached Tania, holding a hand above her head. She eyed it with distrust, like it was a snake poised to lunge. A moment later, the man gasped, causing her to flinch.

    ¡°Oh, dear. Your clavicle is fractured. And your aura is scraped raw.¡± He shifted his hand directly over where her neck and shoulder met. ¡°How are you still standing?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know nothing about auras,¡± she said with a shrug, though she winced at the movement. ¡°But don¡¯t need a clavi-thingy to stand.¡±

    Dr. Wong turned back to the revenant with a harried expression.

    ¡°Seb, I¡¯d like to run a full diagnostic on both Tania and the prince back in the medical wing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she huffed.

    The revenant gave her a wry look before addressing the doctor.

    ¡°By all means, but just the girl for now.¡± His violet-tinged eyes cut toward Terry. ¡°I need to speak with the prince first.¡±

 Chapter 13: Guiding Compass

    The doctor gently escorted Tania out of the office. She huffed and protested, but didn¡¯t resist as he led her away.

    ¡°Uh, maybe we should go too, uh, Lord Mesmer?¡± Liam asked hesitantly.

    Terry had to admire the bravery, but also wondered if it was perhaps, stupidity.

    ¡°Just Mesmer is fine. And not quite yet, young man. First, we need to discuss what you¡¯ve seen tonight.¡±

    The older boy audibly gulped, nodding quickly.

    ¡°Oh, uh, sure.¡±

    The revenant moved around the chairs, seeming to glide as he approached the two paramedics. Jimmy was wringing his hands together in front of him, while Liam white-knuckled the couch¡¯s armrest.

    Mesmer lingered over them a moment, causing the two boys to grow increasingly tense. Liam seemed to think the revenant was waiting for them to say something.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t see anything!¡± he suddenly burst out. ¡°We swear!¡±

    Liam¡¯s panic appeared to infect Jimmy, who nodded along fervently.

    Terry, on the other hand, felt they were misreading the situation. But if Mesmer tried to punish the boys simply for doing their job, he would do whatever was in his power to countermand that order.

    Meaning, he¡¯d swallow his pride and beg his father to intervene. His personal grudge against the man wasn¡¯t important enough to prevent him from helping his new friends.

    But the smile on Mesmer¡¯s face wasn¡¯t villainous, at least, not to Terry¡¯s eyes. There was a thoughtful tilt to his head and the slightest twinkle in his eye as he regarded the two.

    ¡°Did you think I would throw you in the dungeons for the crime of saving the prince¡¯s life?¡±

    Liam¡¯s mouth flopped open and Jimmy glanced toward Terry as if forgetting the boy was even in the room.

    His look seemed to say, Oh, right¡­I did do that, didn¡¯t I?

    Terry chuckled lightly, now that he knew Mesmer would treat them with a fair disposition.

    ¡°But the doctor¡ª¡± Jimmy started.

    Mesmer cut him off. ¡°In fact, I think the kingdom owes you a great thanks. The Emperor understands that the fog has made the job of first responders quite difficult. As recompense, he has decreed that you shall receive hazard pay. Double your wages for the remainder of the month.¡±

    Both boys¡¯ eyes went wide and they shared a look.

    ¡°And for saving the prince¡¯s life, another six months pay.¡±

    A smile stretched across Liam¡¯s face and he slapped Jimmy¡¯s arm.

    Terry nodded, feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders. Ever since they¡¯d returned to the palace, he¡¯d been getting a sinking feeling that he¡¯d dragged the two paramedics into a sticky situation. He felt put at ease knowing they were getting justly compensated for their troubles.

    ¡°Th-thank you, Mesmer,¡± Jimmy said. Unlike Liam, his expression was somber, as if he were waiting for the catch.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Liam added much more enthusiastically. ¡°Thank you, Mesmer!¡±

    The revenant returned a simple nod, then held up a finger. Jimmy¡¯s face sunk and Terry wondered if the boy had the right of it.

    ¡°However¡ª¡± He leaned over them, his smile shifting into a frown. The two boys withered under that stare, trying to sink into the couch. Terry himself felt a shiver down his neck and realized that aura was at play here. ¡°¡ªyou are never, ever, to discuss the prince¡¯s injuries or what may have caused them. Are we clear?¡±

    Now it was both boys who gulped and they couldn¡¯t nod their heads fast enough.

    ¡°Whatever you say, sir!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yep, um, yes, Mesmer, sir!¡±

    Terry narrowed his eyes at the strong-arm tactic but ultimately couldn¡¯t fault the revenant. He understood that his grandfather wouldn¡¯t want word of the draugr attacking Terry to get out. But why hadn¡¯t he forbidden them from discussing the dead civilians?

    He¡¯d only sworn them to secrecy about me¡­

    Mesmer¡¯s frown was massaged away in an instant, a beaming smile replacing it so thoroughly that it was as if it had never been. But there was something more than that, a ripple of¡­something that put Terry at ease.

    More aura, Terry realized.

    ¡°Excellent! I do appreciate your understanding, boys. Your service to the Emperor and the city is duly noted. Please do take the rest of the week off¡ªI¡¯ll clear it with your supervisor. Pleasure meeting you both.¡±

    He eyed them expectantly and they took the hint, rushing to their feet as they bowed themselves out of the door.

    ¡°Thank you, Mesmer,¡± they echoed.

    Crunch pulled the door shut behind them and Terry followed the revenant with his eyes as the man moved to sit behind his desk.

    ¡°Did you have to use your powers on them?¡± he asked, crossing his arms. A spike of adrenaline renewed as he confronted Mesmer, but a sliver of anger fueled him. ¡°They would have been happy just to get out of this with the extra money.¡±

    The revenant eyed him with an arched brow.

    ¡°Ah, you felt that, did you? Impressive.¡± He leaned over to look past Terry toward Crunch. ¡°Your teacher, I presume.¡±

    Terry glanced back at Crunch, who remained impassively by the door, neither reacting or acknowledging the revenant¡¯s question.

    ¡°Yes, but I couldn¡¯t really feel what you were doing. I just felt¡­something. Plus, the draugr blasted me with its aura, so I¡¯m a bit sensitive right now.¡±

    Mesmer clicked his tongue in interest. ¡°Yes, I can see the signs writ across your spectrum. The draugr wasn¡¯t aiming to subdue or frighten you, was it?¡±

    He thought back to the feeling of its aura, wielded like a heavy mallet slamming down upon his flesh. Ice seemed to crawl up his back at the mere memory.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think it was,¡± he replied. ¡°Even before I punched it, it was trying to kill me.¡±

    The revenant¡¯s eyebrows climbed his forehead and he pursed his lips.

    ¡°Excuse me? You¡­punched the draugr?¡±

    His tone was laced with doubt, which annoyed Terry.

    ¡°Ask Crunch if you don¡¯t believe me,¡± he said with a wave to the ghoul. ¡°That¡¯s how I broke my wrist.¡±

    Mesmer tilted his head and chuckled.

    ¡°Oh, no, if you say it, I believe it, my prince.¡±

    The revenant leaned forward, steepling his hands in front of his face, a wry smile on his lips.

    ¡°I guess the part I¡¯m confused about is¡­why?¡±

    Terry felt heat rush up the back of his neck at the question. He glanced over his shoulder at Crunch, but the ghoul was as impassive as ever. Still, he was more than a little embarrassed at the revenant¡¯s question.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he admitted reluctantly. ¡°That thing was trying to kill my friends and I¡­¡± A pain stabbed his chest and he couldn¡¯t blame it on his injured ribs. ¡°I was powerless. I did whatever I could to slow it down, even for half a second.¡±

    The revenant¡¯s wry smile slipped off his face, replaced by a thoughtful pinch of his lips. His eyes tracked to the side, lingering on the bookshelf. Terry thought he was lost in thought, but Mesmer¡¯s gaze was focused on something out of sight. Before he could turn to see what the revenant was staring at, his eyes cut back with an intensity that made the boy shiver.

    ¡°I understand the feeling all too well. That desperate animal instinct that strikes when one faces a foe they cannot possibly match. As I understand it, this incident signals twice in a week where you¡¯ve pitted your mortal body against superpowered foes.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow for a moment, then realized what the revenant was referring to.

    ¡°When I charged Savage, you mean?¡± Mesmer nodded acknowledgment. ¡°You heard about that?¡±

    He spread his hands. ¡°As the Emperor¡¯s revenant, how could I not? But that brings me to the reason I asked you to stay back.¡±

    Terry felt his heart skip a beat. Was he in trouble? He didn¡¯t know what the revenant could do to him? Banish him to his room? What did he care? Take away his games and net access? He had no intention of wasting his time playing games¡ªnot with everything that had happened¡ªbut he would miss the net access, if only to continue his investigation into his mother¡¯s death and the mysterious Silver who had killed the draugr.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Then a terrible thought hit him and his stomach flipped.

    What if he punished Crunch? Mesmer had just this morning given me leave to keep the ghoul around and within hours, I¡¯d risked my life and the lives of a dozen ghouls to leave the palace.

    His fists clenched tight, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his pounding heart in check.

    Mesmer seemed to sense his piqued state and tilted his head in question.

    My aura, he realized. It must be like reading an open book to the revenant.

    ¡°Please, you¡¯re not in trouble. I simply want to remind you that you have responsibilities greater than the servants at your side.¡± Mesmer leaned over to spot Crunch directly. ¡°And I mean no offense. Crunch and his people are essential to this city and the royal family.¡±

    He glanced back to see Crunch incline his head slightly. But Terry wasn¡¯t as easily mollified.

    ¡°If you¡¯re saying I should have run and sacrificed Crunch¡­then excuse me, but screw you. I¡¯d rather Savage have ripped my arm off then have to live with that.¡±

    Mesmer sighed and began massaging his temple with a single finger. Terry crossed his arms with a defiant look and the revenant snorted humorously.

    ¡°I see I¡¯ve underestimated your resolve. In that case, may I simply suggest that you avoid further encounters with powerful entities intent upon your death?¡± He leaned forward, the violent light dancing in his eyes. ¡°And I must insist you convince me, otherwise I¡¯ll be forced to use my powers.¡±

    He tensed at the bare threat, but relaxed a moment later. This was Mesmer, one of his friends. Though their relationship wasn¡¯t as familiar as him and Whipvine, he had never had cause to fear the revenant.

    And his mother had trusted the super explicitly. That he could rely on, if nothing else.

    ¡°Not exactly been searching them out, have I? I mean, I still don¡¯t know why Sol and his Knights were trying to kidnap me!¡±

    Mesmer pursed his lips a moment, then clicked his tongue. ¡°Let¡¯s just say, you would have served as a powerful hostage in the war between Wichita and Topeka.¡±

    That didn¡¯t quite satisfy his curiosity, but he was willing to let those questions wait for his father. There was another question looming that he was not willing to hold off on.

    ¡°And the draugr? I mean, what in the Underworld was that?¡± A shiver traced up his spine at the memory of the thing¡¯s aura slamming into him like a frozen slab of rotting flesh. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just protecting the gates. It was aggressive. You¡¯ve heard how many people it killed I¡¯m guessing.¡±

    Mesmer stared down at his desk deep in thought as he steepled his hands in front of his mouth. After a few tense moments, the revenant looked up.

    ¡°I¡­do not have a good answer for you.¡± Terry felt his anger rise and he started to interject, but the revenant held his hand up to forestall the boy. ¡°I have an answer. It is just not a good one.¡± He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, and for the first time, Terry could see the weight of this incident hanging over the revenant¡¯s shoulders. ¡°The truth is: we failed you.¡±

    Terry narrowed his eyes, looking back at Crunch in confusion. Finding no help in the impassive gaze of his ghoul companion, he whipped back toward the revenant.

    ¡°Huh? How does that answer¡ª¡±

    ¡°We failed you,¡± Mesmer said. ¡°Because you should have never been allowed out of the palace.¡±

    A lead weight sat in his stomach as he began to realize where the revenant was going with this.

    ¡°We never thought you would find occasion to head for the gates. A grave oversight on our part. Of course you would be compelled to return to the site of your mother¡¯s death.¡± He shook his head sadly, as if he was making any type of sense. ¡°I was preoccupied with other matters and did not keep a close enough watch over you.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Terry leaned forward in his chair, both afraid of the answer yet needing it as well. ¡°What about the other people it¡­¡± He trailed off, feeling that he had the answer he needed, yet praying he was misunderstanding the revenant.

    Mesmer nodded, confirming the terrible truth.

    ¡°Those people were always going to die tonight. A message from the Emperor to the citizens of Wichita.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes grew wide, his throat clenching.

    ¡°No one exits the city without the Emperor¡¯s leave.¡± The revenant leaned forward, his lips pressed tight. ¡°No one.¡±

    Those words hung heavy in the air between them and Terry felt himself frozen as if the draugr were in the room right now, flexing its aura. Slowly, he regained control of his thoughts and pulled his knees to his chest. He felt so small, so out of place.

    Who is my grandfather, that he could make that order knowing he was killing innocent people? Who was Mesmer that he could so coolly enforce it?

    Then, an even more terrible thought hit him.

    ¡°Did my father know?¡± he whispered.

    He was afraid of the answer, but he had to hear it. He studied the carpeted floor, almost wishing the revenant wouldn¡¯t answer. He tried not to hold his breath and failed. He didn¡¯t think he could bear to hear the truth.

    The desk creaked, drawing his eyes up. Mesmer had risen and was stepping around it. For the briefest moments, he thought the revenant was coming for him. He didn¡¯t know why¡ªhe had nothing to fear from his friend¡ªbut all the same, a flash of terror washed over him.

    Is that aura? Or is the revenant flexing his Hypnotist powers? Or am I¡­just a coward?

    But the revenant wasn¡¯t coming around the desk for Terry, instead heading over to the nearby bookshelf. He stopped with his back to Terry and the boy squinted in confusion.

    ¡°Your mother did far more for this city than even I realized.¡±

    Terry reared back as if struck. Why is he bringing up my mother now? Is he trying to hurt me?

    Mesmer continued speaking with his back to Terry.

    ¡°She was your father¡¯s guiding compass. His true north. To the council, she was the voice of temperance, the mediator between the two factions.¡± Two factions? Terry wondered. ¡°Even her influence on the Emperor was second to none.¡± Mesmer turned around, his hands delicately cupping something familiar.

    Terry gasped.

    ¡°Is that¡ª?¡± His throat caught on the words.

    Held lightly in Mesmer¡¯s hands was a fully-bloomed white rose, the stem a rich green, the petals as white as fresh snow.

    The revenant nodded softly, grasping the rose by the stem. Wicked thorns covered nearly every inch of the stem so that Mesmer was forced to clutch it with two carefully placed fingers.

    ¡°She gave this to me when my service under the Emperor began. My own guiding compass.¡±

    The revenant stared at the white petals, his eyes out of focus like he was recalling some distant memory.

    Terry¡¯s throat was dry, his voice cracking as he asked, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Mesmer¡¯s gaze snapped back into focus, his eyebrows rising in surprise as if he had forgot Terry was there. Without answering, he turned and delicately placed the white rose back on the shelf. As he walked back to his desk, Terry could see the white rose held a place of honor on a middle shelf, a glass covering enshrining it against errant touches. He wanted to get up and examine it more than anything. But by the way Mesmer had handled it, he suspected that would not be received well.

    ¡°Why do you have that?¡± he asked, unable to pull his eyes away from the white rose. ¡°I don¡¯t even have one.¡± He tried not to sound like he was complaining¡­and failed.

    The revenant settled behind his desk, sinking into his chair. He said nothing for a moment that stretched into multiple moments and Terry managed to pull his eyes away from the rose in its display.

    Mesmer was eyeing him thoughtfully, a slight sag to his posture.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you a bit of an open secret, if you promise not to repeat it.¡±

    Terry dropped his feet to the floor, sitting up straight. That was not what he had been expecting the revenant to say.

    ¡°Uh, okay.¡± He realized how insincere that sounded and added some conviction to his voice. ¡°I won¡¯t say anything. Promise.¡±

    ¡°You understand that us revenants are bound to the Emperor, yes?¡±

    Oh. Oh! His parents had never openly discussed the extent of his grandfather¡¯s control over the undead.

    ¡°In a vague sense,¡± Terry replied.

    Mesmer nodded. ¡°Well, the truth is, we aren¡¯t slaves. I have my own wants and desires, just as the other four¡ªnow, five¡ªrevenants on the council. But our loyalties are bound to the Emperor. We cannot act against him or his interests. But we can interpret what that means within the lens of our own personalities and experiences.¡±

    Terry leaned forward in his chair, his full attention on the revenant.

    Mesmer looked away, shifting uncomfortably.

    ¡°I¡­I was not a good man when the Emperor turned me. Even before I Awakened, I had done things I¡¯m not proud of.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide at the admission.

    ¡°The turning process gives one a sort of¡­distance from their memories. Like watching someone else¡¯s life through their eyes. But it¡¯s imperfect. The things I had done haunted me, coloring my actions and perceptions irrevocably. Your mother¡­offered to help.¡±

    Terry glanced to the bookshelf.

    ¡°The white rose?¡± he asked.

    Mesmer nodded, his face tight.

    ¡°She extracted all my deepest secrets, my darkest moments, preserving them in that rose there. Whenever I begin to doubt myself, my intentions, I relive those moments as a litmus test. And when I feel the shame and the self-hate, it reminds me that my humanity still lives. In that way, the memories in that rose are my lighthouse. The moment I stop hating myself is when I¡¯ll know I¡¯ve crashed against the rocks.¡±

    Terry¡¯s thoughts churned, trying to understand what the revenant was telling him, and failing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. What does that have to do with my father and the draugr?¡±

    Mesmer leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk.

    ¡°Your mother served as that lighthouse for many. The Emperor and your father included. The idea to send a message with the draugr was not the Emperor¡¯s. But I firmly believe he wouldn¡¯t have agreed if your mother was present.¡±

    A terrible thought shook Terry and his eyes widened.

    ¡°Not¡­not my father?¡± he whispered.

    ¡°No,¡± the revenant replied quickly. ¡°It was Fletcher¡¯s idea and without your mother to lead us, the Emperor¡­gave in to his persuasiveness.¡±

    His brow furrowed.

    ¡°Fletcher? Oh! You mean War Crimes?¡± Everything suddenly clicked into place. War Crime¡¯s reputation was even worse than the Iron Maiden¡¯s. The name wasn¡¯t a given moniker like the Iron Bitch¡ªhe had chosen it. A super¡¯s chosen name was an integral part of their identity, practically mystical in nature. By choosing War Crimes, he had signaled to the world what kind of super he planned to be. And judging by the entries on HeroWatch, he had lived up to the name and then some.

    Plus, his mother had hated the man, and that was indictment enough.

    ¡°I can see that,¡± Terry said after a moment. ¡°But you¡¯re saying it was his idea to put a deranged undead at the gates knowing it would kill innocent civilians? And my father went along with it?¡±

    Mesmer shook his head and Terry felt his clenched fist relax. Being angry with his father was one thing, but endorsing murder¡­that was an unbridgeable divide.

    ¡°No, he argued against it. All of us who supported your mother did. But your father was grieving and not at his most persuasive. Anyways, your mother was always the one best able to steer the Emperor.¡±

    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±

    The revenant chuckled and shook his head.

    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s my way of telling you that your mother will be missed. And to suggest that you not think too unkindly of your father.¡±

    He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. ¡°You mean, for leaving me without so much as a goodbye a couple of days after losing mom? Or for tacitly agreeing to the premeditated murder of our own citizens?¡±

    ¡°Both.¡±

    Terry scoffed at the blunt honesty, looking over at his mother¡¯s white rose.

    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± he said tersely, having absolutely zero intention of doing so.

    Mesmer stood from his chair, drawing Terry¡¯s attention. He had a sad smile on his lips and was nodding softly.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ve taken up enough of your time. Even though the doctor gave you a once over, your aura is still in tatters and I doubt that wrist is fully healed.¡± He looked over Terry¡¯s head toward the door. ¡°Crunch, please take the prince to the medical wing.¡±

    I¡¯m fine, he thought. But he kept it to himself, happy for the excuse to leave. Whatever the Emperor¡¯s revenant had been trying to do, he was very much not put at ease.

    If anything, he was more mad at his father than ever.

    He got up to leave, then remembered he¡¯d forgotten to tell Mesmer about the S-ranker that had saved him.

    Terry regarded Mesmer skeptically.  ¡°You know, you never asked how I survived the draugr.¡±

    The revenant¡¯s eyebrows rose at that. ¡°Silver, was it?¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you know that?¡± Terry asked with a frown.

    ¡°Crunch sent back one of your ghoul entourage and he filled me in. The Emperor was none too pleased hearing an unknown super killed a draugr, but it¡¯s nothing for you to worry about. We¡¯re just glad you¡¯re okay.¡±

    Terry regarded him silently for a moment, his thoughts confused. From the sound of it, my grandfather was more concerned about the unregistered super than he was about the draugr attack.

    After hearing that his grandfather had intended the draugr to kill innocent civilians, he shouldn¡¯t be surprised. He had so many questions, so many doubts. But the revenant¡¯s office suddenly felt stuffy, constricting.

    ¡°Okay, well if he¡¯s not concerned¡­¡± Terry trailed off, the sentiment sounding ridiculous even as he said it.

    Mesmer nodded as if everything was just fine. ¡°Go heal up, my prince. We¡¯ll talk soon.¡±

    Terry hesitated at the door, looking back as if there were more to be said. But Mesmer had already turned his back, moving with purpose toward his desk.

    With a sigh, he pulled the door open and left.

 Chapter 14: What Lurks in the Shadows

    As they left Mesmer¡¯s office, Terry hesitated just past the threshold.

    He knew he should head straight to Dr. Wong. But for some reason, the thought held no appeal.

    He stood there in silence, mired with indecision, when Crunch¡¯s teeth began gnashing together. It was a sound like nails down a chalkboard married with the clinking of a metal spoon on teeth. Though it didn¡¯t send shivers down his spine like it once would, it still short circuited his thoughts for a moment.

    He turned toward Crunch, knowing it was the ghoulish way of getting someone¡¯s attention, like clearing their throat or a gentle cough.

    ¡°Yes, Crunch?¡±

    ¡°Aura no good. Medical?¡±

    He considered the ghoul¡¯s words. What about his aura wasn¡¯t good? Mesmer had said something similar, but Terry didn¡¯t feel different, just¡­disappointed. Disappointed in the adults he had always admired. His father, for handling his mother¡¯s death the way he had. His grandfather, for condemning his own people to a terrifying death. Mesmer, for defending them both.

    Maybe he didn¡¯t want his aura adjusted. Maybe he just needed to seep in this feeling for a while.

    He turned the wrong way, heading in the opposite direction of Dr. Wong¡¯s office.

    ¡°My prince?¡± Crunch called at his back.

    Terry didn¡¯t miss a step, looking over his shoulder as he strode down the hall.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to Medical. I¡¯ll see Dr. Wong later.¡±

    Crunch¡¯s loping steps were silent as he caught up to Terry. He was thankful that the ghoul didn¡¯t try to convince him to go anyway; he really didn¡¯t feel like arguing right now.

    ¡°Back to room?¡± Crunch asked quietly.

    Where am I going? he wondered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Crunch. I¡­I just need to clear my head.¡±

    They walked in silence for another minute, before the ghoul grate his teeth together once more.

    ¡°Suggestion,¡± Crunch said mysteriously.

    They stopped and Terry turned toward him expectantly.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Possible not¡­[appropriate].¡±

    He wanted to say, spit it out, but forced himself instead to take in a deep breath. Maybe his aura was affecting his mood, making him more irritable.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Crunch. What¡¯s your suggestion?¡±

    The ghoul¡¯s eye stopped tracking up and down the hallway for a moment to turn down toward Terry. Ghoul eyes were predatory, meant for hunting prey on the frozen tundras of the Underworld. And Crunch¡¯s melted over eye amplified the intensity of his gaze. Despite being one of his closest friends, that look sent a shiver up his spine.

    ¡°See evolution. Crunch fallen brothers.¡±

    Then his eye was back up, scanning the hallways now that his suggestion had been delivered.

    Evolution? Then it hit him.

    ¡°You¡¯re inviting me into the Evolution Chamber?¡±

    Crunch turned to stare down at him.

    ¡°Obvious.¡±

    Terry chuckled, feeling his mood lighten. Of course, he was being invited to the undead equivalent of a funeral, but he couldn¡¯t help it, he felt incredibly honored.

    ¡°I would love to, Crunch. Thank you for inviting me.¡±

    The ghoul didn¡¯t reply, simply leading the way toward the catacombs.

    Terry followed in companionable silence, his mind churning over what he could expect.

    Did they bury their dead? Burn them? No, dummy, then how could they evolve. Maybe they sent them back to the Underworld and¡ª

    He cut off as a maid turned the corner they were rounding, nearly colliding with Terry.

    ¡°Oh, excuse me,¡± he said, skipping to the side.

    Her eyes were uncomfortably wide, shifting between Terry and Crunch erratically. A flush of scarlet red suffused her face and were those tear tracks cutting across her cheeks?

    ¡°So-sorry, I, uh, didn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    She seemed on the verge of a hysterical breakdown and Terry felt his heart clench. He never wanted to be responsible for the pure terror he saw now in her eyes. It sickened him to think that this might be the culture among the servants.

    He held out a hand to steady her, but she flinched away.

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay, really¡ª¡±

    He cut off as she turned to leave, practically fleeing from the two of them. Terry looked to Crunch, who seemed just as surprised as him.

    ¡°That was odd¡ª¡±

    Snap.

    A sound like a foot stepping on a dry twig came from behind, followed by a thud. Crunch¡¯s head twisted sideways, his eyes locking on something over Terry¡¯s shoulder. Before he could look, an arm made of coiled muscle wrapped around his throat, wrenching him backward. Crunch lunged toward Terry as a voice called out.

    ¡°Stop or I kill the boy!¡±

    The ghoul froze mid-lunge, his jagged teeth bared silently. Terry instinctively tried to pull the forearm away from his throat, but he might as well have been trying to bend steel. He tried to spot his attacker from his peripherals, but the man had his head locked in place with his grip.

    But as Terry looked down at the arm holding him tight, he recognized the detailing on the man¡¯s armored forearm.

    ¡°Tenebrous!¡± Terry croaked, the aforementioned forearm pressing tight across his esophagus.

    ¡°Hush now, little prince,¡± the man whispered into his ear. The hairs on Terry¡¯s neck stood up. ¡°If you do what I say, you¡¯ll live to see another sun.¡± A harsh chuckle tickled his ear. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know about seeing the sun again, what with this damned fog. But the point stands. Do what I say or I''ll snap your neck.¡±

    As if to punctuate the point, the pressure on his throat tightened hard enough to gag him. A moment later, it relented, and he coughed painfully. The super¡¯s grip never slackened as his whole body shook with wracking hacks.

    ¡°Now, here¡¯s the deal,¡± Tenebrous hissed. ¡°Take me to the dungeons and you walk.¡± There was a flash of black metal and a tiny prick of pain at his neck. ¡°Fuck around and I¡¯ll bleed you. Rotter, grab the body and shove it into that room.¡±

    His mind raced. How had the Shadow infiltrated the palace? Was he kidnapping Terry? And why did he want to go to the dungeons of all places? Then, his thoughts tripped up as he parsed the man¡¯s words.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Wait, body?

    Terry¡¯s stomach clenched as the man shifted him around. The panicked maid lay in a limp heap, her head twisted at an unnatural angle. Bile burned the back of his throat.

    The knife suddenly pricked his neck, pulling him from the sight.

    ¡°Tell the rotter to do what I say!¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Terry squeaked through the painful pressure on his throat. ¡°Whatever you want. Crunch, do what he says.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right, boy. Good attitude.¡±

    Crunch¡¯s single eye seemed to stab into the man, but he didn¡¯t hesitate to move the body. He picked her up weightlessly, her limbs limp as he deposited her into the nearby room.

    ¡°Now tell the dead thing to walk two paces in front of you. No more, no less.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead, Crunch.¡±

    How do I get out of this? How do I get out of this! We were bound to come across someone. Had to! There was no way we would make it to the dungeons without crossing some guards.

    The arm across his neck squeezed, the blade moving down to press against his lower back. He took the hint, turning toward the hall that would lead them down into the catacombs where he knew the dungeons were, even if he¡¯d never seen them himself.

    As they walked, his thoughts felt battered, like leaves in a storm.

    What if we did come across someone? Tenebrous would just kill them. How many ghouls would it take to beat the A-ranker? Maybe Mesmer could take him, but they were heading the wrong way! If we could loop back around somehow¡ª

    They turned a corner and Terry froze, the knife pressing harder into his back.

    At the end of the hall, another maid was walking toward them, a basket of laundry on her hip. The knife prompted him forward and he gulped painfully past the pressure on his throat.

    ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± he hissed at the Shadow.

    ¡°Just keep walking, little prince.¡± His voice was laced with acidic humor. ¡°Just act¡­casual.¡±

    Please don¡¯t kill her. Please don¡¯t kill her.

    He would have bucked against Tenebrous¡¯ hold if he thought it would save the woman. But the Shadow was an A-ranker¡ªhe had more strength in his pinky finger than Terry had in his whole body. Doing anything other than exactly what the Shadow wanted would just be killing the woman.

    He stepped forward, prompting Crunch to continue down the hall. The laundry woman noticed the ghoul first, thinking nothing of him, then did a double-take as she spotted Terry.

    He waited for her to cry out in surprise, raise the alarm, do¡­anything. Instead, her eyes went wide and she immediately bent into a curtsy, gluing her gaze to the floor.

    It couldn¡¯t be that easy¡­How had she missed the full-grown man with his forearm wrapped around my throat?

    He wracked his brain, trying to recall Tenebrous¡¯ powerset. He knew everything there was to know about the Knights of Sol, but that was only the publicly available info on HeroWatch and similar sites. But from what was available on the Shadow, he shouldn¡¯t be able to turn invisible in plain sight.

    Not to say an Elementalist class couldn¡¯t turn invisible¡ªusually through the bending of light¡ªbut Tenebrous¡¯ powers were shadow based. He could hide in shadows of course, but the hallway was well-lit without a shadow in sight. Everything he remembered from HeroWatch suggested that he needed actual shadows to work his powers.

    As they passed by the woman, she risked a glance up and Terry carefully schooled his expression so that the terror he felt for her wasn¡¯t plain on his face. He tried for a casual nod, but it felt stilted with the pressure of Tenebrous¡¯ arm around his neck.

    She quickly bowed her head again, then they were past. As they walked down the hall, he glanced back once more to see only her back as she carried her laundry away.

    How¡­

    He risked a question, partially out of his own curiosity as a die-hard super fan, but mostly because if he wanted to escape, he needed to know everything he could about the super¡¯s powers.

    ¡°You have invisibility? Last I checked, that wasn¡¯t in your powerset.¡±

    A quiet chuckle came from the man.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re a fan?¡±

    Terry affected a casual shrug, doing his best to keep the man off-guard, even though all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wipe this entire week from his mind.

    ¡°I had posters of all the Knights up on my wall. Though, that was before they kidnapped me¡­twice.¡±

    The man snorted.

    ¡°I like you, kid. Keep¡ª¡±

    The grip around his throat pulled him up short and he coughed at the sudden pressure on his esophagus.

    Tenebrous¡¯ tone flipped instantly, his cold voice dripping with violent promise.

    ¡°That healer is coming¡ª¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. Dr. Wong would recognize the danger and save him. No, idiot. Dr. Wong is no match for the Shadow.

    ¡°¡ªplay it cool or I¡¯ll gut him. Clear?¡±

    Before Terry could respond, Dr. Wong turned the corner¡ªwith Tania in tow! He had been sure he could keep his composure but something about the girl heightened the panic in his mind. An image of her head twisted unnaturally flashed in his mind.

    ¡°My prince!¡± Dr. Wong called out. ¡°Just the person I was coming to see.¡±

    Terry raised a hand in greeting but his words caught on a dry throat. He attempted a dry swallow, forcing the words out with what he hoped was a natural tone.

    ¡°Hey, doctor. Hey, Tania.¡± She narrowed her eyes at him and his heart skipped a beat. Please, don¡¯t say anything. Please, don¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°Tania¡¯s all patched up,¡± the doctor said cheerily. ¡°Let¡¯s take a look at you¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± He flinched at the panic in his own voice. The point pressing into his back increased in pressure. He coughed into his hand to give him time to recover. ¡°Not yet, I mean.¡± Crunch stood to the side at rigid attention, but he could feel the wave of anger rolling off the ghoul like a heatwave. Distantly, he realized he could sense Crunch¡¯s aura, before he snapped himself back to the reality of the imminent danger. ¡°Crunch invited me t-to the Evolution Chamber,¡± he stammered. Come on, get yourself together! ¡°I-I want to do that first. Please.¡±

    Dr. Wong¡¯s eyebrows rose and he bit his lip in thought. Then he shrugged, and Terry could barely mask the relieved sigh that left his body. The doctor held up a finger like a stern teacher.

    ¡°Report to my office right afterward. Prince or no, if you die on my watch, the Emperor will flay me alive.¡±

    Terry chuckled nervously, eliciting a small smile from the doctor. Beside him though, Tania still had a quizzical look on her face.

    ¡°Why¡¯re ya acting weird?¡±

    Shutupshutupshutup!

    The knife at his back broke skin and Terry bit his cheek to keep from reacting.

    Tania turned to Dr. Wong and waved her hand toward Terry.

    ¡°He¡¯s acting weird, innit he?¡±

    The knife dug deeper, the arm around his throat tighter. It was all he could do to keep his mind from blanking in the panic. Then, a thought came to him, and he knew what to do¡ªeven though it would hurt the girl.

    ¡°We can¡¯t all just lose a parent and go about our day.¡± He injected as much venom as he could muster into his voice. ¡°Some of us are still grieving.¡±

    Her mouth hung open, her eyes bugging out. Then, she arced her fist back and Terry braced.

    ¡°You son of a¡ª¡±

    Dr. Wong¡¯s hand snaked forward, catching her wrist effortlessly. She bucked against his grip, then reached out to kick at Terry when it proved hopeless. The doctor pulled her back and held her tight.

    ¡°That, young lady, is unacceptable. Striking the prince? In his own palace.¡± He shook his head in reproach. He cast a glance toward Terry, who on any other occasion, would have wanted to shrivel up and die.

    Take her out of here, he tried to say with his eyes. Take her and go!

    ¡°I don¡¯t care whose palace it is!¡± Tania shrieked, her eyes wild. ¡°Screw you, you pompous brat.¡±

    Dr. Wong began dragging her away, an unreadable expression on his face.

    ¡°Come away now, Tania. Don¡¯t dig yourself into an even deeper hole.¡±

    In response, the girl spat toward Terry, who didn¡¯t even flinch.

    I deserved that. That and more.

    He tried to think how he would react if someone had said those words to him. At least that bad.

    ¡°I¡¯ll come straight to Medical afterward,¡± Terry said as calmly as his pounding heart would allow.

    Dr. Wong nodded. ¡°See that you do.¡±

    Then, he dragged a spitting, kicking Tania away. The moment they went around a corner and out of sight, Terry sagged.

    A harsh chuckle in his ear made him flinch.

    ¡°Cold, my prince. Ice cold.¡±

    Everything in him wanted to whirl around and punch Tenebrous in the face. He wasn¡¯t afraid anymore¡ªonly angry. But he knew that would get him nothing but a beat down. The super might even hurt Crunch to send a message. So he shoved down the bile surging up his chest and said nothing as he started walking forward. Crunch eyed him once, giving a slight nod before turning to lead the way.

    ¡°You should be proud,¡± the Shadow continued, his grip loosening casually. ¡°You saved both of their lives. A true¡­hero. Just like your mother¡ª¡±

    Now, Terry did spin around, coming face-to-face with Tenebrous for the first time. He was gearing up to tell the super off, but was too stunned to speak.

    The edges of the man¡¯s silhouette shimmered, invisible at first, then materializing before his eyes. The invisibility slid off the man like water, until he was completely exposed before Terry. The super looked nothing like his poster. Week-old stubble shadowed his face and dark circles ringed his eyes. His hair was oily and disheveled and the smell appeared out of nowhere, hitting Terry¡¯s nostrils like a one-two punch.

    The super¡¯s own surprise registered on his face, his eyes widening briefly before narrowing in anger. He roughly gripped Terry¡¯s shoulders and spun him back around. The knife swapping positions from his back to his throat.

    ¡°Do that again and I¡¯ll ram this up your ass,¡± he hissed. ¡°Then chase down your girlfriend and do the same to her. You got it?¡±

    Terry was too distracted in his own thoughts to be intimidated.

    It¡¯s my shadow. He¡¯s invisible in my shadow!

    The knife pressed tighter to his throat.

    ¡°Got it?¡± he growled, punctuating the question by pressing the knife hard enough to draw blood.

    ¡°I got it,¡± Terry replied. ¡°And you don¡¯t talk about my mom. You got that?¡±

    He felt energized at the realization, one step closer to getting out of this mess. It filled his chest with courage and though he was afraid, it wasn¡¯t for himself, but for Crunch, Tania, Dr. Wong, and the other innocents that might get in Tenebrous¡¯ way.

    ¡°Boy, you better watch your mouth. I¡¯m tempted just to gut you and be done.¡±

    ¡°Please, we both know you can¡¯t. The moment you kill me, Crunch will eviscerate you.¡± As if to punctuate the statement, the ghoul¡¯s teeth clacked audibly. ¡°And even if you did beat him, without my shadow, you¡¯re screwed.¡±

    It was a guess, but one he was almost certain about. And judging by the super¡¯s silence, he had nailed it. A tense moment passed, where Terry wondered if the Shadow might not just gut him anyway and find a new victim. That moment turned into three, then five.

    Finally, Tenebrous switched the knife to his lower back and used it to push Terry forward.

    ¡°Shut your mouth and move it.¡±

 Thanks and Patreon Announcement

    Okay...so that time in every author''s career has come where we are forced to embarrass ourselves in the pursuit of a dream.

    I''ll try to keep this short and sweet.

    The last two months for me have been kind of dark. I lost my job at the beginning of the year and had only two things that brought me joy in life: my family and this story.

    I...agonized over this story for a long time, wanting to get it just right, inject the feelings in a way that resonated. It seems like it has for many of you and I''ve literally smiled ear to ear to myself reading some of the comments and the reviews, so thank you, sincerely.

    Now, for the Patreon part. I didn''t start this story with a Patreon in mind--didn''t have a lot of confidence it would do well, to be honest. And I think if it had petered out around a hundred followers or been bombed with bad ratings and negative comments, I probably would have pulled it down and slunk back into a pit of despair--which is why I didn''t launch with a Patreon. To me, a Patreon is a contract between reader and writer, a commitment that in exchange for hard-earned money, I will bring a story consistently and with good faith.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    I wanted to feel that internally before I felt comfortable asking for money.

    With that said, I feel that I''ve crossed that divide emotionally and I''m committing to this story that I truly love. To start, I''ll be offering five advanced chapters, which is lower than I''d prefer. But I will work my butt off to push that to at least ten and hopefully more. I know it''s not a lot, but if you decide to support me, know that it means a lot to me.

    <blockquote>

    I''ll try to keep this short and sweet.

    </blockquote>

    Wow, I really failed there...

    Anyway, without further ado, here''s the link:

    Super Genetics | Patreon</a>

    Cheers,

    White Rose

 Chapter 15: Never Corner a Wild Animal

    Despite his earlier bravado, Terry¡¯s heart pounded like he¡¯d just sprinted a mile. Sweat cloyed to his back and underarms, the fear-smell infecting his nostrils, creating a feedback loop. There was no one around, so he spoke to distract his mind.

    ¡°Why do you want to go in to the dungeons?¡±

    The knife point pricked his lower back in warning, but Tenebrous clicked his tongue as if in thought. A moment passed, then his gravely voice spoke out softly.

    ¡°In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.¡±

    Terry squinted, the words echoing in his mind, triggering a distant memory.

    ¡°Sun Tzu?¡± he asked.

    The arm around his neck loosened.

    ¡°You know the Art of War?¡± Tenebrous asked with a quiet chuckle.

    Terry shrugged casually, though his mind was racing. Keep him talking. Keep him talking and he¡¯ll make a mistake.

    ¡°My Duelist teacher is a big fan. Well, obsessed would be the word, I think.¡±

    Tenebrous scoffed. ¡°Oh, Whipvine? Why am I not surprised. Bastard¡¯s a god of war¡ªeven I''ll admit it.¡± His breath whispered against Terry''s ear. ¡°Too bad he ain''t here. Maybe I woulda just fled. Then that maid would be alive.¡±

    Terry was unable to hide his flinch.

    Tenebrous laughed cruelly. ¡°Ho ho, that pinged a nerve, didn''t it?¡± Terry gulped painfully past the man¡¯s arm. ¡°I saw your daddy leave with the army, too. Left all alone with a useless doctor, a washed-up supervillain, and a crippled rotbag. Must sting.¡±

    His chest was heaving, his molars grinding. A tempting thought entered his mind. Just flip around like before, get him out of my shadow. I¡¯ll probably die, but at least Tenebrous won¡¯t get whatever it is he wants.

    The thought rattled around in his brain, bouncing off but inevitably returning like a boomerang.

    I¡¯m probably dead no matter what I do, he admitted. Tenebrous isn¡¯t letting me go after we reach the dungeons and that¡¯s a fact.

    Before he could muster the courage to act, they rounded a corner and came into sight of two human guards manning the stairs leading down to the Catacombs. As soon as they saw him, they stood straighter, their eyes glued to the far wall.

    The moment passed and he felt a sliver of relief. If he exposed the Shadow now, these guards would surely die.

    Coward, his mind whispered. Shut up! he screamed back.

    As they approached, both guards inclined their heads as Crunch, Terry, and the Shadow passed by.

    His footsteps echoed on the stairs, the only other sound besides his heaving breaths. Crunch loped downward silently, and Terry wouldn¡¯t have even known Tenebrous was with them except for the arm wrapped around his neck and the needle-sharp point pricking his back.

    The lighting was dimmer down in the Catacombs, amplifying the unsettling effect of descending underground where the dead things lived. Only a lifetime among the undead had inoculated Terry against the terror. But he felt the tension in the arm around his throat, the knife pressing slightly harder than before against his lower back.

    The Shadow was scared.

    That knowledge emboldened him, filling his limbs with a restless need to act. But the time wasn¡¯t right; the stairs offered no cover. But deeper¡­deeper in the Catacombs was another story.

    As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the narrow passage opened into a large cavern bustling with activity. Towering walls of red rock cast broad shadows from the fluorescent lights anchored to the ceiling. Human servants scurried through the cavern, entering or exiting from the dozens of tunnels and stairs that led into this central area. This was only one of half a dozen landings, each as broad and open as this one. The stairs they had taken down were from the human servants'' quarters and less traveled then most.

    While the human servants and guards hurried through the cavern like they were eager to finish their duties and return to the surface, the undead were at home. Liches and ghouls made up the majority of the undead that he could see, but he spotted a handful of wraiths passing through the air high above.

    Despite the bustle, this was less than a third of the usual traffic and Terry realized just how much of the Fairway force his Emperor had pulled to the north in a bid for Topeka.

    A painful prick at his back spurred him forward.

    ¡°To the dungeons, kid,¡± the man whispered in his ear. ¡°And if you try anything, you¡¯re the first to die.¡±

    He considered those words. Did he really care about that? He¡¯d almost died twice in the past week. Shouldn¡¯t he be coming to terms with the idea by this point?

    No, he realized. I very much want to live still. The pain of the loss of his mother had tricked him into thinking otherwise for a day or two, but the truth was, he didn¡¯t want to martyr himself to stop Tenebrous. He felt selfish. Childish. But also, honest.

    Besides, if he escaped now, Tenebrous had a hundred people¡¯s shadows to hide in. Terry would probably die and the Shadow would escape.

    Decision made, he started for the tunnels that led toward the dungeons. He had never been himself, but he knew the way mostly. There were no signs or markings like the other tunnels, which was indication enough. It was also the only tunnel he had never been allowed to follow, so by process of elimination, it had to be the one.

    A few curious glances were cast his way as he beelined for the tunnel, followed shortly by bows and respectful nods as they realized their prince was among them. But he walked with a false confidence and Crunch cleared the way with a stiff arm.

    Once they entered the tunnel, the traffic faded entirely. After a hundred steps, they were alone again.

    ¡°Smart boy,¡± Tenebrous whispered. ¡°I half expected you to try and make a scene. I¡¯d have slaughtered a dozen of them, then flit away in the chaos.¡±

    It took everything in him not to flinch as the hot breath splashed against his skin. He wouldn¡¯t give the Shadow an inch, no matter what happened. When he didn¡¯t respond, Tenebrous grunted.

    They walked in silence, delving deeper underground. The lighting was dimmer the further they traveled, the stark white fluorescent lighting replaced with soft yellow pot lights embedded into the walls. Though the floor was smooth enough to be carved by an Earth Elementalist, he had to squint to see his footing.

    After another hundred paces, they came to a four-way junction and he paused uncertainly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t know the way,¡± the man growled.

    Terry was about to tell him that very thing, when his eye caught on something in the dim light. A sigil carved into the stone above the passage two from the left. His heart quickened at the familiar sight.

    ¡°No, this way.¡± His voice trembled and he fought to steady himself.

    Whether or not the Shadow heard something off in his voice, he didn¡¯t react. With a grunt, he spurred Terry onward.

    They came to two more junctions and each time, Terry knew exactly which tunnel to take. At some point, the silence had broken and sad cries echoed down from the other tunnels. Cries for help. Cries of pain. And crazed cries that spoke of broken minds.

    Shock paralyzed his thoughts as he slowly realized the sounds he heard weren¡¯t the wraiths of his grandfather, but the desperate pleas of his prisoners. For some reason, Terry had assumed the dungeons beneath the Catacombs lie empty. A precaution in times of unrest¡ªnot filled with the terrible wails he heard now.

    ¡°Your grandfather¡¯s been busy.¡± Tenebrous chuckled, breaking the minutes-long silence.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Terry wanted to argue, but the evidence of his ears was irrefutable. So he stayed silent, continuing his march ever deeper.

    They came to another junction and Terry¡¯s eyes scanned for that familiar sigil. His stomach flipped and his feet faltered.

    Have I been following a false trail? Reading something in the cave wall that wasn¡¯t there?

    No, he had definitely recognized that sigil. Maybe he had taken the wrong tunnel in the last junction.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you stop?¡± Tenebrous¡¯ arm tightened around his throat.

    He tried to speak a lie, but his words froze in his throat. Snaking along the cavern floor were wrist-thick wires he hadn¡¯t noticed before. Before he could connect the dots, deep thuds sounded all around them at once. Impossibly bright lights flashed into existence, completely blinding Terry. The arm around his neck loosened by the barest margin and he grasped for his escape like an adrift man coming across a raft.

    With a panicked cry, he twirled around¡ªstill blind¡ªand threw himself to the ground. The knife at his back grazed across his hip, the arm wildly grasping for him in the white blindness¡ªand missing. As soon as he felt his back hit the stone, he rolled away out of reach of the flailing super. The sound of Crunch¡¯s grating teeth echoed in the cavern, following by the sound of flesh thudding against flesh.

    He blinked away the white spots, shielding his eyes with both hands. The scene before him slowly resolved in his vision.

    Crunch was on one knee in the center of the cavern, seeming to rise from where he had fallen. A flicker of movement and a glimpse of a back fleeing down a tunnel were his only signs of Tenebrous. Of the five tunnels leading from the cavern, four were doused in blinding white light, illuminating the throngs of ghouls blocking the passages. Only the tunnel they had come from was unlit and unguarded.

    ¡°Crunch?¡± Terry called weakly, his throat aching from the memory of Tenebrous¡¯ forearm.

    The ghoul shot over, his wicked claws retracing as he reached down to help Terry to his feet.

    ¡°My prince? Hurt?¡±

    He touched his throat gingerly and found it painful to swallow. Other than that, and the flesh wound on his hip, he was completely fine.

    ¡°All good, Crunch. You?¡±

    The ghoul nodded, his long, spindly hand running over Terry as if not trusting his diagnosis.

    A moment later, movement erupted in the cavern as nearly two dozen ghouls filtered in from the adjacent tunnels and chased after Tenebrous. A handful remained, including a familiar face.

    Standing out from the sea of undead was Dr. Wong, rushing past the ghouls to fuss over Terry.

    ¡°My prince!¡± he cried. ¡°Are you injured?¡± Then his eyes locked on Terry¡¯s neck and went wide. ¡°That son of a¡ªOh, the Emperor will have his head on a pike.¡±

    Before Terry could ease the man¡¯s worries, he held out a hand, his eyes turning bright green as he accessed his powers. A cool wash numbed the tightness in his throat and he felt the skin over his hip knitting together with a feeling like ants crawling over him.

    ¡°Thank the Emperor you saw my sign! The wait down here was driving me mad.¡±

    Terry glanced at the ring on Dr. Wong¡¯s hand, noting the exact same sigil as the one he had spotted over the tunnels.

    ¡°How?¡± Terry shook his head. ¡°What¡­how?¡±

    A pleased smile spread across the man¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m very in tune with your energy, my prince. I knew straight away something was off, but I chalked it up to your recent encounter with the draugr. But when you were so crass with the girl¡­¡± He grimaced.

    ¡°Tania!¡± Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Oh, my God, she must be so mad with me. I was scared!¡± he blurted out. ¡°Scared Tenebrous would kill her. Kill you! I-I¡ª¡±

    Dr. Wong put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°I know, my prince. I know. As soon as we left you, I told her the danger and raced off to beat you to the Catacombs.¡±

    Terry breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Was she¡­was she really mad?¡±

    The doctor shrugged. ¡°To be honest, I didn¡¯t stick around to see. My powerset is far from physical, so the run down here took me longer than I would have liked.¡±

    Something wasn¡¯t adding up now that the adrenaline of the moment was fading.

    ¡°How did you know we were coming here, though?¡± He glanced around, his brow furrowing. ¡°And how did you get all these lights setup in time?¡±

    Dr. Wong glanced around and waved idly. ¡°Oh, these? They¡¯ve been there for a week. The Emperor suspected Tenebrous would come for the dungeons sooner or late¡ª¡± He clammed up, his teeth clicking shut suddenly. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re safe¡ª¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped as he came to the only possible conclusion.

    ¡°He was on a rescue mission,¡± he breathed. But who was it? The Scourge? Terry had never heard what happened with the super. Or was it Sol himself? He had assumed the leader of the Knights was dead, but why? No one had told him that and he had fallen unconscious during the fight. ¡°Sol¡­?¡± he dared to whisper.

    Dr. Wong wasn¡¯t the worst actor among Terry¡¯s teachers, but he was certainly not the best either.

    ¡°No, of course not,¡± he said a touch too quickly. ¡°Don¡¯t you think the Emperor would have turned him or¡­¡± The man trailed off at Terry¡¯s skeptical look. With a hint of panic, he glanced around before leaning in. ¡°Okay, fine! But if anyone asks, I didn¡¯t say a word!¡±

    Terry sat back on his heels, floored by the revelation.

    Sol, one of my idols, is sitting somewhere in my grandfather¡¯s dungeon.

    ¡°What is the Emperor planning to do with him?¡±

    ¡°Shhh, keep your voice down, my prince.¡± He glanced around fitfully, but there were only a handful of ghouls nearby and they were dutifully minding their own business. Dr. Wong cringed, realizing that the undead could hear everything in the echoing cavern. ¡°I-uh, can¡¯t discuss those matters.¡±

    Terry arched a brow, but the doctor¡¯s face hardened and he crossed his arms.

    Seeing that the man wouldn¡¯t be swayed to give more info, he changed topics to the more immediate concern.

    ¡°What about Tenebrous? He got away. Aren¡¯t you¡­¡± He squinted as a sly smile crossed the doctor¡¯s face. ¡°¡­concerned?¡± There was a twinkle in the super¡¯s eye and he shrugged far too casually. Terry turned to study the chamber where they¡¯d sprung their trap. Four tunnels glowed stark white, with only the fifth¡ªthe tunnel they¡¯d come from¡ªshadowed and dim.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a mistake leaving that tunnel dark, was it?¡±

    ¡°Of all your grandfather¡¯s revenants, Whipvine stands as the best fighter, the Professor the most knowledgeable, War Crimes¡ª¡± He grimaced at the super¡¯s nickname. ¡°¡ªthe most bloodthirsty. But among the six, none are as cunning or as studied in psychology as Mesmer.¡±

    If it was intentional, then there was only one reason.

    Sound echoed from the fifth tunnel, light beginning to filter in like the coming of dawn. The corner of Dr. Wong¡¯s lip turned up in a satisfied smirk.

    ¡°You never corner a wild animal.¡±

    A team of ghouls carrying heavy industrial lamps turned the corner and came into sight. White light scoured the tunnels ahead and behind, burning away the shadows as they marched. At the center of the illuminated circle, two hulking patches shambled, their heads scraping the tunnel ceiling. Clutched between their oversized hands, was a man decked in torn black leather armor¡ªa man who had seemed larger than life, impossibly strong and violent only minutes earlier, now tiny and insignificant beside his undead captors. His feet dragged across the stone, his head hanging limp as they marched.

    The undead procession entered the larger cavern, their stark-white lights lost in the sea of lamps burning so bright that the room had become uncomfortably warm in minutes. Behind them, Mesmer followed closely, his gaze pulled tight to the unconscious prisoner. A flick of his eyes caught Terry and he called out to halt.

    ¡°Seb,¡± Dr. Wong said with a wave. ¡°I see you had no troubles.¡±

    Mesmer glanced at the doctor and shook his head briefly, his eyes searching Terry¡¯s face. He thought he might have an idea what the revenant was looking for: anger.

    Terry crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows but didn¡¯t throw a fit perhaps like the revenant expected. Dr. Wong glanced between the two, recognizing the tension, but not the source. He backed away with a nod, moving over to check on Tenebrous.

    When the doctor was out of earshot, Terry spoke.

    ¡°You used me as bait.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a question, but Mesmer answered like it was anyway.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Terry felt some of the anger drain away at his open admission.

    ¡°Did my grandfather know?¡±

    ¡°I informed him via Wraithglass twenty minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°So you knew he would take me when I left your office?¡± He knew any teenager in his position would be furious. He could just imagine Tania raging at the revenant now. That was a more appropriate reaction¡­so why wasn¡¯t he more angry?

    Because it was the right plan. Because it had saved lives.

    ¡°I knew,¡± Mesmer replied, his violet eyes studying Terry intently. ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve said this so many times today, but I apologize for the decept¡ª¡±

    Terry waved his words away, shaking his head.

    ¡°No, it was the right thing to do.¡± He hesitated, his mind flashing to the image of that maid¡¯s neck twisted unnaturally. ¡°When did you suspect Tenebrous was in the palace?¡±

    Mesmer examined him a moment longer, as if not believing he was letting the revenant off the hook so easily. After a moment, Mesmer leaned back to study the cavern still blazing with the uncomfortably hot light.

    ¡°We found a dead servant shoved into a closet yesterday,¡± he said with a frown. ¡°We decided rather than raise the alarm, we¡¯d wait and see if Tenebrous made a move for the prisoner.¡±

    Terry raised his eyebrows. ¡°Sol, you mean?¡±

    Mesmer sighed, kneading his temple with a knuckle as he glanced in Dr. Wong¡¯s direction. The royal healer saw the look and visibly cringed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be too hard on Dr. Wong,¡± Terry said with a wave toward the healer. ¡°He¡¯s a terrible actor.¡±

    Mesmer snorted and shook his head.

    ¡°Yes, we have Sol. We set up these lamps almost as soon as we brought him down here. But I promise, we never intended to use you as bait. We hoped the Shadow had fled for Topeka after Sol was captured.¡± He looked off toward where the doctor was standing over Tenebrous. ¡°But once the opportunity presented itself, the Emperor told me to take it.¡±

    Terry nodded, surprised that he wasn¡¯t surprised. If the last week had taught him anything about his grandfather, it was that the man was ruthless and cold. But he also had to admit, the plan had worked and no lives had been lost other than those two servants. It was cruel to think it, but two lives to capture a powerful A-ranker like Tenebrous¡­that was a trade any leader would take.

    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you, Mesmer. I¡¯m just happy he was caught and can''t hurt anyone else.¡±

    ¡°I do blame myself, Terry, but all the same, I appreciate your maturity.¡± He put a hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I would think that¡¯s enough excitement for today, hm? But I would like to start up our sessions again next week if you think you¡¯ll be up for it?¡±

    Terry felt distant, distracted from the adrenaline dumping for the second time of the day. He nodded absentmindedly, waving toward where the patches were holding Tenebrous.

    ¡°Sure thing. Looks like you¡¯ve got some pressing matters to deal with. Don¡¯t let me hold you.¡±

    Mesmer hesitated, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something else. After a lingering second, the revenant seemed to second guess himself and nodded. Without another word, he relieved Dr. Wong from guarding Tenebrous.

    The doctor approached, a chagrined look on his face.

    ¡°I guess Seb knows that you know¡­¡± He trailed off upon seeing Terry¡¯s distracted expression. ¡°You must be exhausted, Terry. Why don¡¯t you go lay down and I¡¯ll attend to your aura after a nap¡ª¡±

    Terry shook his head, his eyes snapping back toward the doctor.

    ¡°No.¡± He turned to Crunch, who was dutifully waiting by his side. ¡°I wasn¡¯t lying when we passed in the halls. Crunch and I are heading for the Evolution Chamber.¡±

 Chapter 16: The Evolution Chamber

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 42:9:13 18:01 local time)

    Christopher Cuellar (Cryptonix)

    Summary

    Christopher Cuellar (chosen super moniker: Cryptonix), was an A-ranked Alterant (unconfirmed) with the ability to manipulate the foundational components of cryptography and encryption algorithms. It is unconfirmed if he was able to accomplish this through brute force solutions that defy known computational limits or if his powers allowed him to alter the metaphysical structure of mathematics itself. It is highly suspected that his Awakening did not increase or alter his personal mathematic capability to a degree where he was able to circumvent or solve cryptographic algorithms manually. As an Alterant, such intellectual leaps are unlikely and have not been recorded with other supers (needs citaion).

    He is best known for founding the technology behemoth Crypto Solutions¡ªthe largest company in the world before its dissolution after his death. But Cryptonix first came into the public sphere when he signed a groundbreaking contract with the (IHeartSupers Network) to live broadcast his Awakening and reveal the inner secrets of the process to the unpowered public for the first time.

    Brain wave and heart rate patterns indicate the Awakening process took 2 minutes, 26 seconds. Upon waking, Cryptonix was immediately questioned about the process and what he had experienced. He was visibly uncomfortable and skirted around answering the questions for the next 3 minutes (needs citation). After some prompting, he admitted that he is forbidden from discussing the specifics (see (Awakened System Restrictions and Speculations)). When pressed on who exactly is forbidding him, he used his powers to hijack the feed, looping pornographic material for 17 minutes until the (IHeartSupers Network) was able to regain control.

    The fallout of Cryptonix¡¯s actions led to the most viewed television broadcast of the post-Call era, (The Cryptonix-IHSN Breach of Contract Trial) . The judge ruled in favor of the (IHeartSupers Network), citing that Cryptonix was in breach of contract and had caused billions in damage to the network.

    Cryptonix¡¯s earnings were garnished for years, until he founded Crypto Solutions and bought the majority share of the (IHeartSupers Network). After leaving for his Capstone Quest, it was revealed that his financial gain was the result of an illicit network virus calling itself (The W0rld W0rm Virus). See (Affiliation) for more information.

    He left for his Capstone Quest in Year 42, and his death was confirmed later that year.

    Powerset

    His powerset is mostly a mystery to this day. What is clear, is that he was able to bring the world¡¯s largest companies and the global web to its knees through the introduction of (The W0rld W0rm Virus). The virus was inexplicably capable of bypassing all commonly used encryption algorithms (see (The W0rld W0rm Virus) for a list of compromised algorithms). This ransomware held the entire world hostage for 53 days until Cryptonix provided the solution.

    It is suspected that he maintained the Alterant class after his (Midmark Quest), but unconfirmed.

    + Alterant (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    + Alterant (C to A) ¡ª Uncomfirmed

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Off the wake of the controversy surrounding Cryptonix¡¯s Awakening and the subsequent trial, the super formed the technology company Crypto Solutions. Crypto Solutions took the technology world by storm, forming bulkheads against (The W0rld W0rm Virus) which had infiltrated the web and dozens of private company¡¯s networks.

    Effectively neutering the threat of (The W0rld W0rm Virus), all the technology giants flocked to Crypto Solutions to harden their systems and processes. Crypto Solutions became the largest technology company practically overnight (needs citation).

    After Cryptonix¡¯s summons for his Capstone and subsequent death, internal documents surfaced that proved Cryptonix himself was the creator of (the W0rld W0rm virus) and was both the instigator and the savior of his own product. Crypto Solutions collapsed shortly after, pieced apart by litigious clients until Cryptonix¡¯s legacy was no more (needs citation).

    Personal Life

    Cryptonix never married or had any documented children. His parents live to this day in an electronically and cryptographically secure compound funded by the trillions he left behind before engaging in his Capstone Quest. Attempts to sue the trust funding his parents¡¯ compound have met legal roadblocks. Death threats come in daily and electronic attacks were frequent after news of Cryptonix''s death, but no breach has been reported.

    Notable Exploits

    (The Live Broadcast of Cryptonix¡¯s Awakening)

    (click to expand)

    (The Cryptonix-IHSN Breach of Contract Trial)

    (click to expand)

    (The W0rld W0rm Virus)

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    Terry followed Crunch out of the dungeons in a daze. His mind couldn¡¯t seem to decide on exactly what to feel about the last thirty minutes, let alone the last seven days.

    I was attacked by one of my heroes¡ªscratch that, two of my heroes. My father abandoned me only a few days after my mom¡¯s death without so much as a buck up champ. One of the Fairway¡¯s strongest undead allies nearly killed me within our own city.

    And my own grandfather used me as bait to smoke out a hostile super¡­

    A sad laugh popped out, morphing into a full-blown laughing fit in the middle of the hallway.

    Crunch paused, tilting his head.

    ¡°My prince?¡±

    He waved away the ghoul¡¯s concern, but a glance up at the confused look in Crunch¡¯s eye only fueled the laughter more.

    To a people who never laugh, I must look like a loon. Hell, even to normal people I¡¯d look like a loon right now.

    He knew there was nothing funny about the last week, but when he examined it as a whole, the absurdity of it all reached a tipping point in his mind.

    ¡°I get doctor. Head injury.¡±

    No, he tried to say, but it came out as more of a laughing wheeze. Instead, he clutched at Crunch¡¯s wrist with a desperate energy. The thought of being left alone in the dimly-lit hallway sobered him up. He met Crunch¡¯s eye, trying to appear confident and healthy, even as tears of laughter dripped down his cheeks.

    ¡°Doctor,¡± Crunch insisted.

    Terry shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­I¡¯m¡­just don¡¯t tell any jokes until after we visit the Evolution Chamber.¡± Crunch stared blankly at him. ¡°That was funny,¡± he complained. That blank stare somehow turned blanker. ¡°Cause you don¡¯t tell jokes¡­okay, nevermind.¡± The ghoul seemed less than put at ease, so Terry took a few steps back and held his hands up. ¡°See? I¡¯m fine. Plus, the doctor just looked at me. Come on, Crunch, let¡¯s go. I don¡¯t wanna miss it.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    The ghoul reluctantly took the lead and Terry was happy to keep moving. Even though he knew Tenebrous was captured, the shadows seemed particularly dense all of the sudden.

    ¡°We no miss,¡± Crunch said a moment later. ¡°They wait for Crunch.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t realize¡ª¡± He had been about to say, I didn¡¯t realize you were so important. ¡°¡ªdidn¡¯t realize that.¡±

    Crunch didn¡¯t reply and they continued their walk in silence. He was grateful for the ghoul¡¯s directions because the trip into the dungeons had completely turned him around. He was even more confused when they didn¡¯t head back out to one of the main junctions, but instead used some side tunnels. Despite living his entire life in the palace, trips into the Catacombs were typically associated with specific events¡ªand always with one or both of his parents. While he had never considered himself an expert on the layout of the underground structure, he was surprised just how turned around he was.

    Now as he followed Crunch, he studied the walls for signage but found none. Even the electric lights embedded in the stone for human convenience seemed to be spread further out the deeper they went.

    Had the air always been this stagnant? And what was that sound behind us?

    He kept on Crunch¡¯s hip, only a handspan separating the two of them.

    After a few minutes, he spotted a familiar landmark and sighed, feeling his shoulders loosen as he finally figured out where they were. Something about not being able to orient himself this far under the earth had started to become claustrophobic and a little scary.

    Okay, a lot scary.

    They arrived outside the Evolution Chamber soon after and his stomach flipped as he realized everyone was actually standing around waiting. The hallway was lined with liches, ghouls, and the same two patches that seemed to always be posted outside the chamber.

    But what drew his eye were the seven ghoul bodies stacked to the side like firewood before winter. To his human sensibilities, it felt incredibly crass. If they were human bodies, he would have been puking on the tunnel ground at the grotesque display. For some reason, the casual nature of the procession seemed to defuse the sanctity of the dead ghouls¡ªbut not necessarily in a bad way, like their deaths were cheapened. It felt more like¡­a shedding of snake¡¯s skin.

    No, he realized. Like, their lives and what they¡¯d accomplished for the clan were what was important. Their bodies were just fuel to be repurposed toward the fire that kept their people thriving.

    Or maybe I¡¯m just projecting that human need to make death meaningful.

    Whatever the case, the undead stirred at their arrival, shifting from their positions to begin picking up the seven dead ghouls. In that moment, a ripple seemed to pass through the gathered undead and Terry only recognized something was off when they turned as one to regard the figure passing from the other end of the hall. Each and every undead bowed their heads in deference¡ªexcept the patches, who hadn¡¯t even bowed for the Emperor.

    The giant golden-torc ghoul from earlier split the group of undead like a wedge hammered into wood. He towered over the others, at least as tall as Savage, with limbs just as thick and powerful. Each step seemed charged with energy and his toe-blades dug into the earth as if ready to pounce.

    Terry felt himself lean away from the ghoul, only just stopping himself from taking a step backward. Just yesterday, he would have laughed at anyone suggesting his grandfather¡¯s undead servants could possibly be a threat to him. Yet, there was something borne in the air upon the golden-torc ghoul¡¯s arrival. Almost a flavor that he could taste, though not with his tongue.

    It feels like the draugr¡­no, just as powerful, but different. Not full of raw emotion like the draugr; more nuanced, too complex for me to pull apart.

    Strangely, he was less interested in the emotions and more interested in his sudden increase in perception. Why could he feel the elder¡¯s aura so powerfully when most of the time he couldn¡¯t even register any aura? In fact, the only times he could remember recognizing it at all were when the draugr had come for him, now with the elder, and possibly the few times he had interacted with the patches.

    Was it a matter of power levels? The draugr, elder ghoul, and the patches just being so strong that they could project an aura that I could perceive?

    He was pulled from his thoughts by the looming presence of the elder as he stared first at Crunch, then at Terry. There was a human element to the elder¡¯s gaze that the other ghouls didn¡¯t share¡ªa much more natural flick of the eyes when compared to the almost mechanical regard he was used to from Crunch and the others.

    He would have thought that would put him more at ease in the elder¡¯s presence, but for some reason, a shiver traced up his spine. Like looking into a tiger¡¯s eyes and suddenly realizing that you were under the careful regard of a superlative killing machine.

    The elder spoke in ghoulish, his voice deep and graceful. His eyes seemed to pin Crunch in place, his aura brightening like a flare, then dimming once more.

    Crunch bowed deeply, replying back in his native language so fast that Terry couldn¡¯t follow any of it. But he did feel the aura brush against his senses. He tried to parse it, peel away the layers to identify the context of their conversation, but the elder turned away, drawing an end to the conversation.

    ¡°Crunch?¡± Terry whispered.

    The ghoul hesitated. ¡°Hard explain. Later, my prince.¡±

    Before he could press the issue, the patches pulled the Evolution Chamber doors open and the hallway burst into activity. At his side, Crunch moved away, approaching one of the ghouls carrying a body. He held out his arm expectantly. The ghoul in question paused, then transferred the weight to Crunch, who hoisted the limp ghoul corpse onto his shoulder with a flex of his legs.

    He wondered if there was something symbolic about carrying the dead and filed the question away for later as Crunch strode back to his side.

    The elder ghoul passed through the threshold first, followed closely by the liches in their dark robes. He tried to see what lay beyond, but the press of bodies created a wall that blocked his sight.

    When the ghouls carrying the seven bodies¡ªincluding Crunch¡ªstarted forward, Terry shifted his weight indecisively. He glanced at the other ghouls in attendance not carrying the dead and wondered if he should enter with them.

    He had just decided to wait when Crunch looked back and saw him hesitating.

    ¡°Prince follow.¡±

    He let out a sigh of relief and rushed to match pace with the ghoul. It wasn¡¯t that he felt unsafe with the other ghouls, but more so he had started to feel like an unwelcome interloper, a fraud crashing a funeral of someone he only pretended to know.

    With Crunch encouraging him forward, it felt as if he had been vouched for and his unease settled a bit.

    As they passed the threshold, his feet shifted from stone to a yielding surface that seemed to give like sand. A glance down confirmed that they were walking on what appeared to be black pebbles extending out to the left and right. The procession marched forward, spreading out to either side so that he caught his first proper glimpse of the chamber.

    A black pebble beach stretched a hundred feet to either side and another hundred in front of them, abutting against a tar like substance that sloshed against the shore in undulating waves. It was thick like molasses and pitch black, reflecting the light from the doorway without revealing anything beneath its surface. Lining the beach were evenly spaced lanterns perched atop poles. They emitted a sickly green light that cast an unearthly glow across the black pebbles. Just beneath the lanterns, thin canoes waited and Terry felt his stomach roll over.

    We¡¯re getting on those canoes and paddling into this pitch-black lake, aren¡¯t we?

    The crunch of undead feet and Terry¡¯s tennis shoes echoed in the cavern as they marched toward the canoes. To distract from his racing heart, he scanned above, straining through the dark to determine the dimensions of the chamber. The walls to either side extended up and out of sight, the dim green light of the lanterns and the thin stream of yellow light from the doorway losing the battle against the thick shadows above. It was even worse across the tar lake, the blackness of its surface seeming to mingle with the darkness to create a maw on the horizon that ate the light.

    A deep thud slammed into Terry¡¯s senses, followed by another in quick succession. The light emanating from the hallway disappeared at the same time, enveloping the procession in a near-total darkness that was alleviated solely by the green lanterns now fifty feet away. An animal instinct screamed inside him to run toward the doors. An echoing sound began filling the chamber, heavy breaths like a panicked beast running from the hunter.

    He spun to find the source of the sound, only to realize it was his own ragged breathing. None of the undead needed to breathe. The realization that he was on the verge of a panic attack only made things worse and he glanced in the direction they had come, feeling like an absolute idiot for thinking he belonged here.

    This place isn¡¯t for me. I don¡¯t belong here. Every second I stand here hyperventilating like a baby is just another humiliation piled on my shoulders. The doors are roughly that way. I¡¯ll just head back and wait¡ª

    A deep voice came from right behind him, causing him to flinch and whirl around.

    ¡°Do not be afraid, Prince Terry. This is our domain. You have our safe passage.¡±

    The ghoul elder towered over him, a soft look in his eyes reflecting in the dim green light¡ªalmost sympathetic.

    How had he moved so quietly?

    ¡°Oh, uh, I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± He stopped the lie before it could materialize. Of course he had been afraid. Still was. How could he not be afraid of the dark after Tenebrous? ¡°Thank you, I¡¯m coming.¡±

    The elder nodded, his steps light as he returned to the waiting procession. Realizing that everyone had stopped and was watching him, he hurried to follow, pulling up beside Crunch. They exchanged a glance but Terry looked away quickly, far too embarrassed and conscious of the eerie quiet to say anything.

    The ghouls carrying the seven dead deposited them into separate canoes, then each picked up a pole with a green lantern. For a moment, Terry feared they were going to leave him on the beach in the dark, but then Crunch waved him toward the canoe he was standing in front of and Terry boarded gratefully. It rocked precariously as he shuffled past the dead ghoul, but it was still mostly beached, which stabilized it.

    His relief was short lived as one of the lich followed behind him, taking a position beside him on the bench. He didn¡¯t know what he had expected, but sharing a bench with one of the undead of the enigmatic lich caste had not been it. Before he could revisit his second thoughts, Crunch used the pole lantern to push them off the beach and into the lake. On either side of them, six more canoes were shoved off, leaving a handful of ghouls on the beachhead to watch.

    As Crunch poled them forward, Terry squirmed on the bench beside the lich. They were a strange subset of the undead that he had both interacted with frequently and yet knew very little about. They always wore robes covering them head to toe, hiding everything about their appearance. Despite the secrecy, they were far and away the most eloquent of the undead and had no trouble speaking human languages¡ªexcept for their sibilant lisps. As far as Terry was aware, their role among the undead were ritual¡ªand in some cases, magical. But he had never heard of one being a physical threat.

    The lich at his side cut through the silence like a dull knife and Terry flinched, nearly capsizing the boat.

    ¡°This chamber,¡± the lich hissed, ¡°is the wealth of our clan, my prince.¡±

    Its voice was soft, solemn, and Terry¡¯s racing heart settled as he contemplated those words.

    ¡°How¡­how is that?¡± he asked, keeping his own voice barely above a whisper.

    Even in the darkness, he spotted the ghoul elder poling away on the next canoe, his golden torc flashing in the green lantern light. The giant ghoul glanced over and for a moment, Terry wondered if he was breaking the sanctity of the chamber by asking stupid questions. But even in the eerie green lighting, the elder¡¯s expression seemed curious more than anything.

    The lich leaned over the side of the boat, trailing his hand through the black sludge before holding it up for Terry to see. ¡°The lifeblood of our people.¡± His hand dipped below and came up with a tar-soaked bone long enough to be a femur. ¡°The bones of our people.¡± He gently placed the bone back into the lake, but not before Terry caught a glimpse of his delicate, skeletal hand. Leaning forward, the lich pressed that hand against the dead ghoul¡¯s head at their feet, his robe turning toward Terry. ¡°The spirit of our people.¡±

    ¡°How does it work?¡±

    ¡°Ahhh, this black substance is the blood of the mother. It binds the spirit to the flesh¡ª¡±

    The boat shuddered to a stop and Terry looked around to see that all seven were stopped in a semi-circle around a point in the lake. Unlike the placid waves he¡¯d noticed before, the spot they circled was bubbling like boiling oil.

    ¡°Another time, my prince,¡± the lich whispered.

    He nodded absentmindedly, his eyes locked on that bubbling spot. He half expected something to leap out and latch onto the canoe. The boat shifted slightly, pulling his attention from the black pool to where Crunch was anchoring the lantern pole into a slot at the back. Across each canoe, the other ghouls were doing the same, while the liches began to rise to their feet.

    He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should also stand, but decided against it. The image of tipping the canoe and Crunch reaching in to pull him out of this bubbling substance like a drowning kitten kept him seated.

    When all the lanterns were anchored and everyone but Terry were on their feet, the singing began.

 Chapter 17: Necro Fascists

    The last thing Terry expected from the stoic undead with too many teeth was for them to start singing. The sound started low, mingling with the stagnant air like the soft moan of wind through a cave formation. A minute passed and the singing grew louder, a deep bass echoing up from their throats that sent a shiver tracing up his spine.

    Then the lich at his side joined in, as well as the rest of his caste. It was less a song and more like the hissing of a pit of vipers. But the effect of the ghoul and the lich voices intermingling created a haunting dirge that echoed through the cavern.

    That was when Terry felt the aura manipulation begin. It started as a charged feeling in the air, the hairs on his arms standing tall, a thick sensation of emotion crowding around him. But it wasn¡¯t the hopelessness of the draugr or the indifference of the patches that he¡¯d come to associate with overwhelming aura expression. Rather, a tableau seemed to form in his mind. He envisioned a farmer sinking into his chair after all day in the fields, a hot cup of tea and a simple meal made extravagant by the aching hunger of a famished body.

    It was a feeling of satisfaction after the demands of a challenging day; accomplishment followed by a period of rest. He couldn¡¯t tell if the images he was seeing in his mind were his own fabrication or an idea translated by the confluence of aura, but he felt that he understood something inherently in the message being broadcast.

    Enjoy your rest now, brothers. And prepare to be reborn to fight for the clan in the future.

    Crunch shifted at the other end of the canoe, reaching down to lift the ghoul corpse. The others did the same, until all seven bodies were held by their brothers in a child¡¯s carry. The singing began to intensify, matched by the aura shifting up a degree all around him. His senses felt raw, the feeling in the air pricking his thoughts, almost infecting him with the emotions cast about by the undead.

    When the singing crescendoed, the ghouls shifted their burdens into the bubbling pit, drawing their voice and aura down a notch with each body deposited in the inky black. The roiling surface settled, as if accepting its meal, and the intensity in the air ratcheted down once more to match that now placid surface.

    Terry settled back with a shaky breath, finally wrestling back control of his senses and emotions. He had felt like a ship in a storm, forced to ride the towering waves with no agency or control, clinging to the mast with white knuckles.

    Despite the powerless nature of the aura storm, he hadn¡¯t hated it. It was scary and overwhelming. But he could also see how it could be beautiful and freeing.

    If he could just let go.

    They were halfway back to the black pebble beach when he came to.

    ¡°That was¡­not what I expected,¡± he whispered.

    The lich at his side turned his shadowed hood toward Terry.

    ¡°That was the Song of Well-Earned Rest, though the translation leaves much unsaid.¡±

    Terry nodded, though he wasn¡¯t sure he truly understood what he had been feeling.

    ¡°I saw images in my mind. But they weren¡¯t undead. Was that¡­?¡± He left the question hanging, not sure how much prying into their process they would appreciate.

    ¡°Aura, as you humans call it, is coupled to emotions,¡± the lich hissed. ¡°The Songs of our people express our sincerity, hope, and promise.¡±

    ¡°Promise?¡±

    The canoe shuddered, pulling up against the beach with a jolt. Terry flinched in surprise, lost in the lich¡¯s words.

    ¡°Promise of return,¡± the lich said simply.

    Before he could probe deeper, the ghouls on the beach and in the canoes began pulling them further onto the black pebbles. Terry hurried to disembark, feeling slightly out of place again now that the ritual was finished. The undead didn¡¯t mill about or chat idly as humans might have after a funeral procession. Instead, without a word between them, they separated, each heading for the exit on their own.

    Crunch held out a helping hand as Terry hopped off the canoe, and the lich followed closely behind him. He wanted to ask more questions, but everyone was leaving with such purpose that he didn¡¯t want to hold this particular lich back.

    As if sensing his curiosity, the lich paused.

    ¡°Should my prince ever wish to learn more of our people, he may lean upon me.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise, then his lips turned up in a smile.

    ¡°That¡¯s awes¡ª¡± He coughed into his fist. ¡°I mean, thank you, honorable lich.¡± A thought occurred to him and he quickly added, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say this, but¡­I don¡¯t know your name. How will I find you?¡±

    The lich indicated Crunch at his side. ¡°Your bonded servant knows. But I will give you my imprint¡ªfor after your Awakening.¡±

    His brow furrowed in confusion, then cleared as he felt the lich project its aura like a wave of impressions.

    A frozen tundra. A single hill. Perched atop lies a lonely tree, dying but clinging to life.

    The vision went and Terry reared back. The image had been so vivid, so particular. It reminded him of the draugr¡¯s aura, but without the malice and anger.

    He swallowed past a dry throat.

    ¡°Is it normal to¡­see things?¡± he asked. ¡°From someone¡¯s aura?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised,¡± the lich replied. ¡°Most humans only experience the emotions before their Awakening. For us undead, our aura awareness is much higher, even from the spawning pit.¡± The lich hesitated, then leaned in. Its voice had a hint of curiosity to it. ¡°What did you see, my prince?¡±

    ¡°A lone tree on a hill. It was dying but still felt¡­¡± He shook his head at the absurdity of what he was about to say. ¡°It felt¡­hopeful.¡±

    A slight hissing breath left the hood and Terry cringed, afraid he had made some faux pas.

    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡±

    ¡°No need to apologize, my prince. Your aura sense is maturing quite nicely. Among the Awakened humans of the Emperor¡¯s court, some have called me Hoping Tree.¡±

    ¡°Hoping Tree¡­¡± Terry repeated, a smile splitting his face. ¡°That¡¯s a nice name. Though it doesn¡¯t seem to capture the emotions I was feeling.¡±

    The lich nodded. ¡°Yes, the human tongue is limited. But Hoping Tree is enough.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Hoping Tree. Terry.¡± He held out his hand. ¡°Since you greeted me in the undead way, I figured we could also do the human way.¡±

    The lich turned its hood down to stare at Terry¡¯s hand. Heat rushed to his face as he realized how ridiculous it was to try to shake a lich¡¯s hand. He started to pull it back in embarrassment, when the lich shifted.

    A skeletal hand covered in exposed sinew slipped from the edge of the robe, wrapping around Terry¡¯s delicately. The bone and tendon were cold to the touch, but not painfully so.

    ¡°Nice to meet you¡­Terry.¡±

    <hr>

    The second week after his mother¡¯s death seemed to pass much faster than the first. He continued to study aura control with Crunch, though he never felt it as powerfully as he had inside the Evolution Chamber. He continued to monitor the war between his family¡¯s army and Topeka, who was putting up a desperate, if doomed, defense against the forces of Wichita, led by the Scourge, who had fled back to his city ahead of the Emperor.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Word began to circulate on the net that the Council¡ªthe super group that held sway over Kansas City¡ªwere approaching Topeka from the east. Whether that was to lend aid to the Scourge¡¯s defense or to make sure the violence didn¡¯t spill over into the nearby city, the reporters in the field were unsure. But it dialed up Terry¡¯s anxiety, imagining the Council striking at his father and grandfather.

    Despite his anger toward the two, he didn¡¯t want to see them injured or killed. Plus, his friend and teacher was at the frontline, and losing Whipvine would be like losing Crunch.

    He managed to keep his thoughts distracted with his aura study, painting his figurines that had survived his father¡¯s rampage, and had even started his sessions back up with Mesmer about the Class Adjacencies and the different super types. But the intrusive thoughts always wormed their way back into his brain.

    His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he resisted the urge to search for updates on the war between Wichita and Topeka, when one of his open tabs bounced in an attempt to grab his attention. Swapping over, he saw that he had a notification from Necrotalk Forums. He had forgotten all about the message he had sent to IBelieve asking to chat. But there was the notification right there on his screen.

    <blockquote>

    User IBelieve has requested to chat. Accept?

    Yes/No

    </blockquote>

    His heart began to pound as he hastily clicked the Yes button. A new window sprang up with a chat session between his alias RoseBud and IBelieve. He immediately started typing out a response.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: Hey, thanks for getting back to¡ª

    </blockquote>

    He stopped typing as IBelieve sent a message first.

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: What you want

    </blockquote>

    Chewing his lip, he wondered at the curt tone of the message. He didn¡¯t want to get off on the wrong foot before he¡¯d even asked the questions he had.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: Sorry to bother you. Just thought you had some interesting ideas about what happened to the White Rose.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    IBelieve is typing¡­

    </blockquote>

    Terry tried not to hold his breath as he waited for IBelieve to respond.

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: You a mole?

    </blockquote>

    Am I a mole¡­? He started to respond, then stopped. Quickly pulling open a new tab, he typed in:

    <blockquote>

    What is a mole

    </blockquote>

    Predictably, the search engine returned entry after entry on the literal definition of moles. He rolled his eyes and amended the search.

    <blockquote>

    Mole conspiracy theories

    </blockquote>

    As he read the results, a flurry of emotions kaleidoscoped through his mind. Confusion, at first, then surprise. Then, a deep hunger. Moles implied there was something to infiltrate, knowledge to be gathered. Was IBelieve saying that they had theories grounded enough to make them a target or were they just that paranoid?

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: I¡¯m not a mole. I didn¡¯t even know what that word meant until I just searched it. Why would a mole message you though?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    IBelieve is typing¡­

    </blockquote>

    Excitement filled him as he waited, only to deflate as the typing indicator disappeared. His fingers went back to the keyboard to say something else¡ªmaybe insist he wasn¡¯t a mole or try to convince the unknown user in some way.

    But then the indicator flashed again and he held back. It came and went a few more times and he wondered if IBelieve was weighing how much to say. Or maybe they were writing out a long explanation? Or even better, diving right into their takes on his mother¡¯s death.

    Instead, the message was short¡­and borderline hostile.

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: Don¡¯t believe you. You one of those necro fascists?

    </blockquote>

    Necro fascist? What did that even mean?

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: No, I¡¯m not a necro fascist. I¡¯m just a kid trying to figure out what happened to the White Rose.

    </blockquote>

    He hesitated revealing anything about himself, but IBelieve was obviously a paranoid person. Which made sense, considering Necrotalk Forums was a place for conspiracy and fringe theories. They would probably be suspect of any stranger reaching out for a chat.

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: A kid? And I¡¯m a ghoul in a tutu. Necroing this chat in 3 secs unless you say something convincing.

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide and he bit his lip. What can I say to convince them?

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: 3¡­

    </blockquote>

    There was nothing¡ªnothing short of sending them a selfie right now. And every instinct confirmed that sending your picture to borderline paranoids on the net was a no-no.

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: 2¡­

    </blockquote>

    He wracked his brain for the answer. Open up his net access so they could see his location? No, dummy, that would only confirm you were in the palace. A¡­necro fascist, as they called it.

    Then what?

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: 1¡­

    </blockquote>

    In a desperate rush, he typed the only thing he could think of to keep IBelieve on the chat.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: The White Rose was my mother!

    </blockquote>

    He immediately regretted sending it as soon as he hit enter.

    ¡°Oh, God, what did I do?¡± he muttered. ¡°Crap, crap, crap¡ª¡±

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: interesting¡­now you have my attention.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°I¡­I do?¡±

    <blockquote>

    IBelieve is typing¡­

    [IBelieve]: can¡¯t take your word for it though. Need to meet in person.

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared at those words in shock. In person? I can¡¯t do that¡­can I?

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: Where sh¡ª

    </blockquote>

    He paused, realizing what he was agreeing to. Do you remember what happened last time you left the palace? Seven ghouls died, dummy.

    He deleted the words and started again.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: Sorry, I¡¯m grounded¡ª

    </blockquote>

    No, that was stupid.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: I¡¯m not allowed to leave the palace right now.

    </blockquote>

    Yeah, that sounded better. A bit more dignified. Even if he could leave the palace, meeting with a stranger he just met on the net was¡­not something he thought his mother would have approved of. Sure, he had his supersoldier undead bodyguards to back him up, but that was its own problem. How could he possibly convince Crunch to let him out on another adventure, so soon after the last one went so poorly.

    <blockquote>

    IBelieve is typing¡­

    </blockquote>

    He held his breath, expecting the anonymous user to cut contact, accuse him of pulling some stunt, or simply make fun of him for being on house arrest. Instead, IBelieve sent him a link.

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: Check this out then

    </blockquote>

    He examined the link before confirming it wasn¡¯t anything shady. When he clicked on it, a new tab opened to a video hosting site. The thumbnail of the video in question was a long ranged still of a field¡ª

    Holy Crap!

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: Is that what I think it is!!!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: You tell me¡­

    </blockquote>

    He pressed play, his hands shaking as the video started.

    From a distance that seemed like hundreds of meters, if not further, he spotted indistinct shapes running about. Above them, five blobs flew through the sky, a bright light narrowing in toward the figures. The camera panned to follow a lone person running away¡ªno, not running, but bounding. The view zoomed in, the graininess increasing as it did so. But what he was seeing was undeniable¡ªthat was a small person bouncing on the shoulder of the loping figure.

    That¡¯s me over Crunch¡¯s shoulder!

    The camera shifted again, following Savage¡¯s arcing jump as he landed in front of them, a mountain of dirt casting into the air from the crater of his fall. The resolution wasn¡¯t great, but he could confirm the broad strokes of the fight between Crunch and the super.

    But something new¡ªsomething he hadn¡¯t noticed in the moment¡ªcaught his eye. A figure rode in on a flying spectral beast that fuzzed at the edges, leaping from the mount with his telltale scythe in hand. A thrill went up his spine at the sheer majesty of watching his grandfather swooping in to his rescue. Behind his grandfather, he spotted his dad crossing the field at a sprint, racing toward Terry.

    The camera shifted once more, pulling away from the scene to capture the larger view for a moment before suddenly zooming in to the far side of the field. The indistinct figure he had assumed was his mother was nowhere to be seen. But sitting in the dirt was a person in shining gold armor, a limp body pulled into his lap.

    Is that¡­?

    The blinding gold light made it difficult to tell, but it seemed to be the Siren clutched in Sol¡¯s hands as the man looked to the sky. The expression on his face was impossible to decipher, but the increasing intensity of sunlight being pulled from the sky spoke to what came next.

    A pinprick of light eclipsed Sol, then shot outward. A blink later, the camera went black and the video ended.

    Terry sat back in his chair, his thoughts crashing against each other.

    Siren dead.

    Sol triggered his most powerful ability, aiming to wipe out all the players on the field.

    Had my mom killed Siren?

    If not, who did?

    But if she did¡­then why wasn¡¯t she in the video near the end? Where was her body? Why wasn¡¯t she melted from Sol¡¯s supernova?

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: say something kid

    </blockquote>

    His fingers hovered over the keys, unsure what to reply. Eventually, he found the words.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: Where was the White Rose? Where was my mom¡­

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: And that, my young prince, is the million-dollar question. I have more vids, but can¡¯t share them over the net.

    [IBelieve]: need to meet in person¡­

    </blockquote>

 Chapter 18: A Dangerous Friendship

    He logged off shortly after that, feigning some excuse while he gathered his thoughts. He wasn¡¯t ready to commit to an in-person meet, not with what he¡¯d just seen boiling inside his mind.

    Had she faked her death? Had someone else faked her death? How? No, more importantly¡­why?

    His mind went to the darkest places it could imagine, sending a sick feeling through his gut.

    The Scourge or Tenebrous kidnapped her before Sol¡¯s supernova. She¡¯s back in Topeka, being tortured even as I sit here. Or what if Tenebrous kidnapped her and left her somewhere to starve and rot while he tried in vain to rescue Sol? Was she still alive right now, slowly dying of thirst and hunger?

    And what the hell was that body I¡¯d said goodbye to? Had grandfather staged her corpse? But why? And there was no doubt about it, father considered her dead. His reaction was not faked, that I¡¯m completely sure about.

    So what the hell was going on!

    The mania of not knowing infected him for the rest of the night and he didn¡¯t sleep a wink. Burgundy and Bloodstain had finally agreed to standing guard outside his door, rather than directly inside his bedroom, so he thankfully didn¡¯t have to deal with them wondering why he was white-knuckling his sheets with a combination of rage and concern.

    By the time the morning bells tolled across the city, he was numb, his anger exhausted in the face of an inscrutable question.

    What happened to the White Rose? What happened to mom¡­?

    There was nothing for it, he needed to distract himself. He threw his covers off with a bit more force than necessary and stood beside his bed aimlessly. Half-painted figurines stared back at him, a pile of crumpled sketches littered the floor, and his Necrotalk Forums tab bounced tauntingly on his computer.

    He didn¡¯t want to do any of that.

    A thought occurred to him and he set off with a determined stride, throwing a clean shirt over his head¡ªwell, semi-clean¡ªas he left his room.

    He felt more than saw Burg and Blood follow behind him. That was happening more often. Sensing people and undead without seeing or hearing them. He imagined their presences like rocks jutting up from the riverbed; in some cases, the rocks were domineering, forcing the current around them like the draugr or the patches. In others, they were bare ripples, only noticeable if he really strained his senses.

    It was a far cry from manipulating his own aura, but some progress was better than none.

    As he passed servants or the human guards that patrolled the hallways, his sense of their auras was almost nonexistent¡ªthe small rocks whose only impact on the current was to form small swirls on the surface. But as he passed two ghouls attending a stairway leading down to the catacombs, their auras noticeably shifted in his mind, moving¡ªno, expressing themselves on that aura river.

    Behind him, he felt another shift, as if in response. He whirled around, for some reason surprised to see Burg and Blood standing there. Their eyes scanned the halls, never turning toward their brothers at the stairs. But there was no doubt about it¡ªthe four of them were communicating right in front of him and he would have never noticed, even a week ago.

    No wonder learning English is such a low priority¡ªthey have an entire unspoken language between them.

    His thirst to master that skill had never been stronger. Three of his closest friends now were ghouls and he wanted to speak to them on their terms.

    But first, he had a serious apology to make.

    Walking past the two ghouls with a nod, he entered the servant¡¯s quarters where Mesmer had his office. He definitely didn¡¯t feel a shiver down his back as he passed the hall where Shadow took him. No, definitely not¡­

    And he didn¡¯t stop as he came to Mesmer¡¯s office, continuing past to where the bulk of the servants lived. It was painful to admit, but he had never come this way before¡ªhad never had reason to, though that felt like a flimsy excuse. His whole life, he¡¯d respected and admired the undead that served the Fairways, but had given very little thought to the humans who provided a service just as necessary for the palace and the city.

    I need to fix that thinking, he realized. Make an effort to get to know the living just as well as the undead.

    He made a mental note to ask Mesmer to introduce him around as he approached the servants¡¯ dormitory. Then, all thoughts of making friends slipped from his mind as he remembered why he had made the trek here.

    A cold sweat had formed on the back of his neck without him even realizing it and he hesitated at the door for more than a few moments. Though he had never been here, he did know enough to know that he couldn¡¯t just barge in. While those with spouses and families more often than not moved out of the palace and commuted in, many of the younger servants lived here.

    And the dorms were separated by gender, meaning that pushing past this door would very likely bring him into the female quarters where, prince or no, his presence would be frowned upon. So he held a fist up, building the courage to knock and¡ª

    Thwump!

    The door swung outward, crashing into his fist, then his face. He fell to his butt with a yelp that he would have been embarrassed by if his nose didn¡¯t sting so bad. Tears formed in his eyes, his vision bleary.

    When he looked up, two red-skinned shapes held another, much smaller, shape by the arms. Terry¡¯s mind was slow to assess the situation¡ªI hope I don¡¯t have another concussion¡ªbut when he did, he shot up to his feet, wiping the tears away lest someone think he was crying like a kid.

    ¡°Burg, Blood, let her go! It was an accident!¡±

    Clutched tight in the ghouls¡¯ hands was a young woman whose clothes indicated she was a maid. Her face was flushed red and her eyes glistened as if she were on the verge of tears. His bodyguards let her go and she immediately collapsed to her knees. He thought she was weak from fright, but then she started begging and he reared back in horror.

    ¡°P-pl-lease, my prince! Fo-forgive me! I di-di¡ª¡± She cut off as the dam broke, a terrible sob erupting from her.

    He watched her for a moment, a feeling of revulsion rising from deep in his chest. Not toward her for breaking down in fear, but toward the entire system of the palace. Was this something the Emperor instilled in his servants? This abject terror? Was this the norm?

    It disgusted him to think that there existed others who would punish this poor woman for an obvious accident.

    ¡°Hey¡ª¡± His voice caught and he tried to push past the lump forming. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t cry. Please, don¡¯t cry. I¡¯m okay, really!¡± He crouched and reached out a hand to get her attention. ¡°Hey, look at me, I¡¯m fine, really.¡±

    She glanced through her bangs, eyeing Terry with an animal fear that pulled at his heart. He smiled, doing his best to affect a charming, devil-may-care attitude. But it must have translated wrong, because the maid gasped with wide eyes.

    ¡°Yo-your no-nose,¡± she stammered, throwing her head back into her hands. ¡°Oh, Emperor protect me, I broke the prince¡¯s nose!¡±

    Broke¡­? He reached up and delicately fingered the bridge of his nose, wincing as he felt things shift that really shouldn¡¯t shift.

    It was only then that the pain flared up, white-hot and blinding. But I won¡¯t cry, he told himself. Crying is for things that actually hurt, like losing mothers. This isn¡¯t pain. This is just receptors in my brain firing. I¡¯ve felt real pain¡­

    He repeated the words in his head like a mantra, not daring to let himself cry. It was a near thing, though. When he looked up, he flinched, realizing that they now had an audience.

    The women coming to see the commotion likewise flinched, though for a different reason. He could see the look in each of their eyes¡ªthe same look reflected in the door-opener¡¯s eyes.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    They were absolutely terrified down to their cores.

    Except one.

    ¡°Hey, Tania.¡± His voice came out nasally and he cringed with embarrassment.

    She stood at the front of the group of women, her arms crossed and her face a cloud of anger.

    ¡°What¡¯d ya do?¡± she asked, her tone full of accusation. ¡°Get a little handsy and she clocked ya?¡±

    He reared back, looking toward the maid who was still on her knees on the tile, crying softly to herself. The blood dripped down past his lips, splashing lightly against the floor.

    She thought I had tried to¡­touch the maid?

    His eyes went wide and he shook his head so hard he thought he might have pinched something in his neck.

    ¡°No! What? No!¡± He looked up toward his bodyguards for help, but they stood there so still, it was like they weren¡¯t even paying attention. ¡°I was coming to see you¡ªto apologize and, she, well, I, the door opened as I¡ª¡± He struggled to find a way to relay the story without casting blame on the maid. He pantomimed the door hitting his nose, but judging from the confused looks he was receiving, he was doing a poor job. He sighed and turned to the woman on the floor. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not mad. Are you okay?¡±

    She nodded through her sobs and Terry sat back on his heels, feeling completely at a loss. He looked up to the other women now forming a ring around them.

    ¡°Can you help her back to her room, please? And maybe let her take the day off¡­or something?¡±

    One of the older women shot forward, wrapping her arms around the maid. She slowly pulled her to her feet, shushing her quietly as she escorted her through the crowd.

    ¡°I¡¯m really not mad,¡± he called after them, trailing off when he realized how silly he sounded. He looked around at the crowd of women, suddenly feeling like he wanted to be anywhere else. His eyes locked on Tania, who had a skeptical expression on her face. He opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut, realizing just how many people were watching him. The anxiety hit him like the draugr¡¯s aura and he backed away from the group. ¡°I, uh, I¡¯m gonna¡­¡± He turned and started quick walking away, the heat rising to the back of his neck.

    He felt Burg and Blood at his back as he walked away as fast as he could. Walked¡­definitely not fled.

    ¡°You lot were no help,¡± he muttered.

    A voice that was not a ghoul spoke up at his side.

    ¡°What¡¯d you wanna¡ª¡±

    He whirled around with a yelp.

    ¡°Ahh! Holy crap, Tania! You scared me.¡±

    She had jumped at his undignified yelp, but was now snort-laughing into her hand.

    ¡°You¡­scream¡­like¡­a¡ª¡±

    He crossed his arms and regarded her with the deadliest look he could muster. ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡±

    ¡°¡ªgirl! And that blood¡­dripping¡­look¡­ridiculous!¡± She was bent over now, laughter stealing her breath.

    He tried to maintain his disappointed angry look, but the absurdity of it all was too much. He scoffed and shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it doesn¡¯t look ridiculous. Tough is more likely. Broken noses are cool.¡± He pictured Whipvine¡¯s gnarled, smashed-up nose that looked like it had been pounded with a hammer and reconsidered. ¡°Well, usually.¡±

    Her laughing fit died down, only to renew as she glanced up at him.

    ¡°Okay, you¡¯re starting to hurt my feelings a bit,¡± he said with a joking tone. But now he wanted to look in a mirror. It couldn¡¯t be that bad¡­right?

    She waved a hand in breathless apology, then pulled herself back under control.

    ¡°Sorry, sorry! It¡¯s been a problem lately. Have you noticed that for you?¡±

    He furrowed his brow at that. ¡°Noticed what?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s like¡­things are funny that shouldn¡¯t be. Like my funny bone is broken or something.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­why do you think that is?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, man. Ever since they died, it¡¯s just been off.¡±

    His mood sobered as he finally understood what she was getting at. He looked away so she wouldn¡¯t see the naked hurt that he couldn¡¯t hide.

    ¡°Guess it could be worse,¡± he said, trying not to ruin the mood. ¡°Laughing is better than crying, right?¡±

    Her face softened and it was her turn to look away. ¡°Done plenty a¡¯that. Not what they¡¯d want though, y¡¯know?¡±

    He turned back to her, studying her face. She wasn¡¯t laughing anymore, but there was still that shine in her eyes, like she could laugh or cry at any moment. He enjoyed her openness, he realized. So much easier to just wear what you thought and felt on your sleeve rather than weather it on an island by yourself.

    He resolved to try to do that more, even if just around her.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said. She looked confused, so he continued. ¡°What I said about¡­you know.¡±

    She tried for a casual shrug, but it looked forced. ¡°The doc told me. Guess I should thank you for trying to spare us. I was still mad after he told me¡­I don¡¯t know why. Just was.¡± A smile split her face. ¡°Not anymore, though. Seeing ya get your nose broke kinda helped. Can¡¯t explain it.¡±

    Terry chuckled dryly. ¡°All part of the plan.¡±

    Her eyebrows rose skeptically. ¡°Getting your nose broke was part of the plan?¡±

    He nodded sagely. ¡°It¡¯s sick, but our friendship seems built upon me getting hurt. First, you break my rib¡ª¡±

    ¡°It was already broken!¡±

    ¡°¡ªthen I break my nose coming to see you.¡± He tapped his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Now that I think about it, this friendship is pretty dangerous.¡±

    She shrugged, a wry smile on her face.

    ¡°Eh, who wants to live forever anyway?¡±

    They laughed together for a moment, but when the silence loomed, it loomed large. Terry looked around the empty hallway, wondering what two kids united only by the shared loss of their parents had to talk about.

    Say something, say something, say something.

    Tania broke the silence first and he tried not to sigh in relief.

    ¡°So, these guys follow you around everywhere or what?¡± she asked with a wave toward Burg and Blood.

    He glanced toward the ghouls and nodded.

    ¡°Pretty much. There were a couple days there where they literally watched me sleep.¡± He reached up and pat Burg on the arm, the muscle and bone beneath his reddish-purple skin as hard as steel. ¡°That was awkward.¡±

    She narrowed her eyes, studying the two undead. She walked around them, eyeing them up and down. Her hand went out, then paused.

    ¡°Can I touch them?¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°Ask them, they¡¯re not robots.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± she with a chagrined expression. ¡°I¡¯d always heard they¡ª¡± She turned from Terry toward Burg. ¡°¡ªI mean, you. Always heard you were summons of the Emperor. Didn¡¯t realize you guys were people. That¡¯s my bad.¡±

    ¡°What about Crunch?¡± he asked. ¡°He even introduced himself to you.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know, suppose I thought he was different s¡¯all.¡±

    As she circled, Burg and Blood basically ignored her, keeping their eyes focused on the surrounding hallways. But Terry¡­felt something. The ripples from their auras were different than what he had felt a few minutes earlier when he had last focused on them.

    His chest swelled with excitement when he realized what that meant: he was picking up on something new from the two ghouls! Maybe they were even communicating to each other in secret!

    He imagined the conversation now.

    Burg: why is this fleshbag circling me?

    Blood: should we eviscerate her?

    Burg: the prince wouldn¡¯t like that.

    Blood: now she¡¯s talking like we aren¡¯t here.

    Burg: I¡¯m gonna ask if we can eat her.

    Blood: Your funeral, dude.

    He snickered to himself at the ridiculousness of the imagined conversation and Tania looked at him in question.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± he said with a wave. ¡°Nothing. I was just imagining what they were saying to each other right now.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Whatchu talking bout?¡±

    ¡°You know about auras, right? Some think it¡¯s one of the base energies linked to supers, but we all have it, even normies¡ªthough we can¡¯t really sense it that well.¡±

    ¡°I know what auras are,¡± she said. ¡°My mom was a Traveler.¡±

    Terry rocked back in surprise and she must have noticed, because she tilted her head. ¡°What? That surprise you?¡±

    ¡°I mean, duh. A Traveler! That¡¯s so cool¡­¡± he trailed off once he remembered he was talking about her dead mother.

    But Tania didn¡¯t seem to feel sad from being reminded of her mother. A smile touched her lips and she nodded.

    ¡°Yeah, Traveler is pretty cool, huh? Got to see some crazy places, that¡¯s for sure.¡± She had a far away look, clearly dipping into reminiscent territory. After a moment, she seemed to shake herself free from the melancholy. ¡°Anyways, it was good while it lasted. Guess I¡¯m Wichita-bound until I hit my Awakening.¡±

    His curiosity was burning a hole inside his gut, but he didn¡¯t want to broach the subject of her parents and pick at that fresh wound.

    Still¡­it wasn¡¯t often he met someone that knew a Traveler¡ªthey were the rarest class and there certainly weren¡¯t many in Wichita. In fact, he would have bet there were zero until she had said that.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°You look constipated all the sudden.¡±

    ¡°Do not!¡± he blurted out, then desperately wished he could reel the words back in. ¡°No, it¡¯s just¡­I¡¯ve never met any Travelers¡ªor people that were close to a Traveler. I guess I was just wondering¡­what it¡¯s like?¡±

    ¡°Going through a portal?¡± she asked.

    He nodded.

    A smile split her face, genuine and happy, unlike the sarcastic smile he had come to associate her with.

    ¡°It¡¯s the most amazing, freeing thing in the whole world. Anywhere you wanna go¡ª¡± She snapped her fingers. ¡°¡ªboom, you¡¯re there. Top of the pyramids? Easy. Australia for the winter? In a blink. Top of Mt. Fuji for a skiing session? Just gotta get the gear and whoosh, there you are.¡±

    ¡°Thought you needed visas and stuff like that?¡± He knew it was an amazing class, but she was making it sound a bit too amazing.

    She dismissed his question with a wave.

    ¡°Only dweebs ask about visas.¡± She hesitated a moment, she shrugged. ¡°But yeah, generally we had to get visas.¡± She frowned at him, like it was his fault red tape existed. ¡°Anyways, point is, it¡¯s amazing! I¡¯m gonna be a Traveler when I Awaken. Bet on it.¡±

    He didn¡¯t think it quite worked like that. As far as he knew, class selection was a black box, but most folks agreed that Traveler was rare, even for legacies.

    Still, he didn¡¯t want to take the wind out of her sails.

    ¡°That¡¯ll be so cool. Will you take me somewhere fun? I¡­I¡¯ve never left Wichita.¡± The admission was embarrassing, but it helped that she didn¡¯t make fun of him.

    ¡°Absolutely! Anywhere you wanna go! Screw the permits and visas and all that bull! And screw Wichita¡ªno offense. But there¡¯s so much more out there, Terry.¡± She waved her hand to encompass the halls. ¡°Here, you and your family are the big fish in the small pond. But out there¡­oh, God, it¡¯s worth it. The food, the sights, the nature. The sun! When the hell are we gonna get the sun back!¡± She waved a fist up toward the ceiling, as if she were blaming it for hiding behind his grandfather¡¯s working.

    But he had to agree, seeing the world sounded pretty amazing. One thing she had said, though, caught his attention.

    ¡°Food? Isn¡¯t it all pretty much the same wherever you go?¡±

    Her eyes bugged out, her mouth gaping open in horror.

    ¡°Terry, Terry, Terry, you poor, sheltered soul. Actually, speaking of food, pretty hungry myself. Let¡¯s get some breakfast and I¡¯ll explain just what you¡¯re missing out on.¡±

    Then she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and started walking them away from the dorms.

    ¡°Let me tell you all about¡­sushi.¡±

 Chapter 19: A Super Showdown

    The two of them made a quick visit to Dr. Wong, who was none too pleased that Terry had injured himself...again. But the doctor had let him go with only a light scolding after he had explained that it was a simple accident.

    Nose set, the two of them now sat at the very edge of the dining room table. When they¡¯d arrived, some familiar relatives had already been here, casting them dark looks as they grabbed their breakfast. Not his Aunt Julia thankfully, but he definitely recognized at least one of his father¡¯s distant cousins who had been gossiping about his mother the last time. So he steered Tania away and pulled out the chairs on the end for them.

    ¡°Bad blood?¡± the girl asked with a mouthful of smoked brisket slathered in barbecue sauce on top of a ciabatta roll.

    He shrugged, taking a slightly more manageable bite. ¡°They said some things about my mom. Rather just avoid them really.¡±

    She cast the other side of the table a cold look, holding deep eye contact as she shoved another way-too-large bite into her mouth.

    ¡°Skew um,¡± she mumbled through her food.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    She held up a finger, working the food a moment longer before swallowing.

    ¡°Screw ¡®em. You¡¯re the prince, who cares what they think?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess,¡± he replied noncommittally.

    She plopped her sandwich to her plate with a splash of sauce.

    ¡°No, not I guess.¡± She emphasized the last two words in a sarcastic imitation. ¡°Say it with me: I¡¯m the prince.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna¡ª¡±

    ¡°Say it!¡±

    He rolled his eyes. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m the prince.¡±

    ¡°Oh, in the name of¡ªsay it like your balls done dropped already.¡±

    He snorted at that, then noticed that her loud discussion of his balls had drawn more open stares. Which was actually annoying. He was emboldened as he felt those stares on him.

    ¡°I¡¯m the prince,¡± he said with a bit more volume.

    ¡°Pssh, no, not buying it. You ain¡¯t no prince.¡±

    He arched an eyebrow at that. ¡°I know what you¡¯re doing.¡±

    She adopted an innocent expression and shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know what you mean.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to embarrass me, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    She pursed her lips and shook her head. ¡°Embarrass you? No, Terry, I¡¯m trying to free you.¡± She waved a hand around her, indicating the table, the buffet, and the room. ¡°This is your grandfather¡¯s palace, not theirs. Take it back! You¡¯re only a prisoner if you let yourself be.¡±

    He sat back in his chair, a smile forming on his face.

    ¡°Wow, that was so cringe.¡±

    She snorted into her food, but recovered quickly.

    ¡°Yeah, maybe,¡± she agreed. ¡°But I wasn¡¯t kidding. Saying the words will help. Even if it¡¯s just to convince yourself.¡±

    He eyed the distant cousins at the other end of the table, noticing that they were now talking in low tones and occasionally glancing over at the two of them.

    Inspiration took him and he shot to his feet, knocking his chair backward.

    ¡°I¡¯m the prince.¡± It still sounded hollow to his ears.

    Tania faked a yawn.

    ¡°I¡¯m the prince,¡± he said a bit more forcefully. The relatives at the table were all staring at him now.

    ¡°Not buying it,¡± she said, ignoring the open stares.

    ¡°This is my palace and I¡¯m the goddamn prince!¡±

    She reared back in her chair, looking around the room as if embarrassed.

    ¡°Whoa, dude. Settle down. We all know you¡¯re the prince, okay?¡± she looked at his relatives and waved toward Terry with a shake of her head. ¡°Believe the ego on this kid?¡±

    To a person, they ignored her and turned back to their whispered conversations. Tania shook her head and picked up her sandwich, taking another colossal bite.

    Terry picked up his chair and sat down, his face beet red as she giggled to herself.

    ¡°I hate you,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Oh, come on. That was inspiring!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m never listening to you again.¡±

    ¡°But I have so many good ideas!¡± she complained.

    ¡°Somehow, I doubt that¡ª¡± Her eyes cut to the space above him, as if tracking someone approaching from behind. It felt like one of those made you look things, but then Crunch appeared at his side and leaned down toward his ear.

    ¡°My prince. News from war.¡±

    His stomach flipped, his knuckles turning white around his fork.

    ¡°Father?¡± he asked, both dreading and needing the answer.

    ¡°Father safe. Lord Mesmer requests presence,¡± the ghoul continued. ¡°War over.¡±

    <hr>

    The two of them treaded familiar ground back to Mesmer¡¯s office. Crunch went straight through and Terry was too distracted in his thoughts to catch if the ghoul had used aura to signal their arrival or not.

    Right away, Terry noticed the revenant¡¯s office was much tidier than last time, but his eyes glossed over that fact to lock onto the white rose encased in the right hand bookshelf. He had the sudden urge to reach out and¡ª

    ¡°Prince Terry! Oh, and Tania. Welcome.¡± Mesmer came around his desk, a black disc-shaped remote held in his hand. ¡°Good news! I sent Crunch to fetch you as soon as I heard.¡±

    ¡°What is it, Mes?¡± Terry asked. Good news, he said. Good news. So why did I feel so anxious?This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Halleck took out the Scourge, with assists from Savage and your father.¡± His heart rate picked up at the mention of his father fighting the Scourge. ¡°The Emperor and the Council circled each other the entire time, but the fighting stayed among the A-rankers.¡± Mesmer shared a look of relief with Terry. ¡°System knows what would have happened if the Council tried to intervene.¡±

    He tried to imagine his grandfather, father, Whipvine¡ªeven Savage¡ªholding off one of the strongest superhero groups of the region and then echoed Mesmer¡¯s sentiment. That battle would have sent shockwaves rippling through the Midwest¡¯s super community and possibly even further.

    Mesmer gripped the remote, flicking his thumb across its surface. A blue-white spirit projected from a smooth pane of glass as wide as his palm, shifting into an image ten feet long in every dimension.

    The wraith-glass projected a scene so crisp, it was like they were there.

    His breath caught when he recognized his friend on a rooftop in the distance. The man was small, unimposing against the backdrop of Topeka¡¯s sky, but then Whipvine moved, demonstrating a speed and grace that not even wraith-glass could capture. In a blink, the old super had crossed the gap between rooftops, angling toward where the wraith observed the scene.

    Behind him, a figure soared into the sky, seeming almost to fly before landing on an adjacent rooftop near Whipvine. Terry immediately recognized the burnt-orange fur of Savage and his palms began to sweat from the deja vu of seeing him leaping through the air.

    But then a third, more comforting, figure appeared in the feed, racing below on the streets. Terry¡¯s father was flanked on either side by his two, nearly horse sized dire wolves, Skol and Hati, that he had bonded during his Midmark Quest. He knew his father could only draw the two dire wolves to Earth for short spurts of time¡ªat least until he became S-ranked¡ªso he must have expected the fight to end soon.

    Sure enough, a fourth figure appeared from behind a building, buoyed into the air by a swarm of insects that were far too large to be natural bugs. The wraith-glass feed was so good, he felt like he could pick out each individual insect making up the Scourge¡¯s swarm¡ªand they were each nearly as big as his fist.

    From HeroWatch, he knew that the Scourge had never bonded large, powerful summons like the Fairways in favor of many, many smaller summons. The estimates on HeroWatch ranged from the thousands to the hundreds of thousands and seeing it now, he leaned toward the higher end of the range.

    The massive swarm split into three, one group holding the Scourge in the air, while the other two spread to cover the space between him and the three chasing Wichitan heroes, creating a wall of insects that shielded the last free member of the Knights of Sol.

    Savage was the first to make a move, leaping so powerfully that the building he had launched from collapsed behind him. The fur-covered super seemed to float in the air as he hit his apex and the wraith shifted its perception somehow to focus on Terry¡¯s father.

    ¡°Savage! Hold!¡± The sound of James¡¯ voice carried like the wraith was right beside him and he wondered if that was an effect of the wraith or of the powerful carrying nature of the man¡¯s voice.

    Either way, Savage was committed now¡ªor didn¡¯t care to obey¡ªangling his body to collide with the Scourge. The two separated swarms of insects rushed to intercept him and the super¡¯s face knotted in a grimace as he braced for impact. The momentum of his fall seemed like it would be enough to take him past the swarms, but they followed him, absorbing his inertia until he was held aloft in the air. He swiped around him with his A-ranked strength, but the insects seemed limitless.

    ¡°Whipvine!¡± That powerful voice cut through the air again. ¡°Take him!¡±

    A crack rang out, so sharp through the wraith-glass that Terry and Tania covered their ears in pain. Unlike Savage¡¯s leap, he couldn¡¯t track Whipvine¡¯s movements as the super shot across the buildings separating him from the Scourge. Mesmer held up the remote and the feed slowed down, playing the scene at quarter speed so he could actually see Whipvine move.

    ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± Tania asked.

    Terry squinted, studying the quarter speed Whipvine and still struggling to process what he was seeing. It seemed almost like the super was swimming through the air toward the Scourge, but that wasn¡¯t right. Whipvine was a Duelist, not a¡ª

    His breath caught once he realized what the super was doing.

    ¡°No way¡­¡± he breathed.

    In either of Whipvine¡¯s hands, he held his namesake whips that he¡¯d carried ever since his Midmark Quest. And he was twisting his wrist, cracking the air behind him¡­to propel himself forward.

    ¡°He¡¯s using the whips to fly!¡± Terry turned to Mesmer with wide eyes. ¡°Is that even possible?¡±

    Mesmer rolled his eyes but didn¡¯t reply.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Tania double-taked between Terry and the wraith-glass. ¡°That¡¯s so fuckin¡¯ awesome!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s bootlegged flight using his System weapons!¡± Terry exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯m adding that to his HeroWatch wiki when I get back to my room!¡±

    Mesmer coughed into his fist. ¡°Ahem, I suppose that cat¡¯s out of the bag. But in the future, try not to reveal family powers to the world unless they¡¯re already common knowledge.¡±

    He cringed. ¡°Oh, uh, yeah, that makes sense.¡±

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Tania shouted, pointing at the wraith-glass as if Whipvine could hear her through the feed.

    The swarm containing Savage threw the flailing revenant away and rushed to intercept Whipvine from the side as he charged in like a missile. As Savage fell to the earth, Terry noted that the revenant¡¯s characteristic orange fur was churned up and tinted red. Seemed the super had gotten worse than he¡¯d given. As the swarm was poised to collide with Whipvine, Savage crashed behind a building and out of sight.

    ¡°He okay?¡± Terry asked.

    ¡°Why you care?¡± Tania shot back. ¡°Didn¡¯t he try and kidnap you or something?¡±

    He gave a chagrined shrug. ¡°Good point.¡±

    ¡°Savage is fine,¡± Mesmer replied.

    Before Terry could respond, the swarm met Whipvine in mid-air.

    Or¡­it should have met Whipvine. Somehow, the super had cracked a whip to the side, propelling him at a perpendicular angle right before the wave of insects hit him. Without missing a beat, he cracked his other whip behind him and continued his trajectory toward the Scourge.

    The Topekan super¡¯s back was to the wraith, but it was easy to imagine panic had begun to set in. He let himself drop the twenty feet to the roof below, launching his last swarm toward Whipvine.

    Terry gasped as the cloud of mutant insects moved to intercept the older super. With the two swarms behind rushing to close off his movement, Whipvine was trapped.

    A resounding series of cracks split through the wraith-glass and he slapped his hands over his ears, instinctively clutching his eyes tight as he flinched. A moment later, he opened his eyes to see the aftermath.

    The Scourge lay on the rooftop¡ªno, that was only his torso there¡­his entire lower half and head were missing.

    ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± Tania whispered.

    ¡°W-what happened?¡± Terry asked, looking between the girl and Mesmer. ¡°Wha-how?¡±

    She just shook her head, mouth still hanging wide.

    ¡°I¡¯ll mute it and rewind,¡± Mesmer said, manipulating the disc remote. The feed skipped back ten seconds, frozen on Whipvine¡¯s snarling face; his crisscrossing scars contorted into deep valleys that made the super look like a demon. He seemed to float through the air in the quarter-speed feed, his whips dangling loosely at his side. The two swarms he had dodged rushed toward his back, while the third rose to meet him mid-air.

    Then, his wrists seemed to pirouette, his whips swirling too fast to see, even at quarter speed. A section of the swarm coming for him exploded outward, then another, and another. In half a second in feed time¡ªso, really more like a tenth of a second¡ªthe entire ball of insects was destabilized. Whipvine smashed through the disoriented swarm, both whips poised over his shoulders, his teeth bared like one of James¡¯ dire wolves on the hunt. The two whips sliced down, crossing over each other to strike at the Scourge. One struck through the super at his hip line, while the other cleaved at his neck. In a blink, the last A-ranked super of Topeka was trisected as Whipvine tucked into a roll and leaped to his feet beside the Scourge¡¯s decapitated head.

    The feed resumed to full speed with a flick of the remote, showing a bloodied Savage leaping back toward the fight. He landed on a nearby building, completely caving in the roof with his impact. Without missing a beat, he leaped into sight again, alighting onto Whipvine¡¯s building with a bit more grace. Mesmer turned up the sound, the groans of the still-collapsing building echoing in the background.

    ¡°Missed the fight.¡± Whipvine¡¯s voice was amplified by the wraith, full of condescension. ¡°But here¡¯s a snack.¡± One of his whips snapped out, wrapping around the Scourge¡¯s head, before delicately tossing it toward Savage.

    The bloodied super unhinged his jaw and caught the head fully in his mouth. With a terrible crunching sound, he gnashed the dead super¡¯s skull until it was splinters, then swallowed it. His eyes never left Whipvine¡¯s, a deep fire burning there. Whipvine snorted in response, turning away as Terry¡¯s father pulled himself up over the roof lip with an acrobatic flip. It wasn¡¯t as dramatic as Savage¡¯s bounding leaps or Whipvine¡¯s unorthodox way of whipping himself through the air, but James¡¯ strengths weren¡¯t in the power of his body, but his summons. The two, towering dire wolves did make a dramatic leap, arcing from the ground below to land silently beside their master.

    James whirled on Savage, pulling his bone mask away to reveal a green fire burning in his eyes.

    ¡°You disobeyed a direct order¡ª¡±

    Mesmer lifted the remote and the sound cut off.

    ¡°Sorry, kids, the rest is need-to-know. I just thought you¡¯d want to see that your father and Whipvine were fine.¡±

    He clicked the feed off with a button and turned toward Terry with a confusing expression.

    ¡°Now, for the bad news¡­¡±

 Chapter 20: The...Plan?

    Terry felt his skin flush, a heavy weight settling in his stomach. ¡°Bad news? What bad news?¡± He almost didn¡¯t want to know. Just leave me on the high of knowing everyone was safe!

    Mesmer held up a calming hand. ¡°Everyone is fine. The Emperor and the Council had a meeting in the skies above Topeka shortly after Whipvine killed the Scourge.¡± He shifted his weight uncomfortably. ¡°It seems that the Council is not thrilled about the idea of your grandfather having control over territory that is practically a suburb of Kansas City.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°They didn¡¯t¡­fight, did they?¡±

    The Council had three registered S-rankers and though none of them were Originals, they were still S-rankers. And the last time S-rankers had fought, Wichita had been cast into eternal night¡­

    Mesmer shook his head, taking some of the weight off Terry¡¯s shoulders.

    ¡°No, thank God. Your grandfather¡¯s still got some tricks up his sleeves, but that would have been¡­¡± Mesmer looked off into the distance, as if seeing the fallout in his mind, then turned back to Tania and Terry. ¡°Well, let¡¯s just be thankful it didn¡¯t come to that.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the bad news?¡± Tania asked impatiently, crossing her arms with a scowl. ¡°Why you dancin¡¯ round it?¡±

    Terry thought that was being a bit uncharitable, but then Mesmer cleared throat and he realized that the revenant was dancing around something.

    ¡°What is it, Mes? You¡¯re making it worse by not saying it.¡±

    Mesmer pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. ¡°Well, the Emperor and the Council agreed to split Topeka down the middle.¡±

    Tania furrowed her brow at his side. ¡°You can¡¯t just split a city.¡±

    Mesmer¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Oh, yes you can. Jerusalem and Berlin, after World War II. Singapore after the Call.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not only been done before, but quite often. It¡­usually doesn¡¯t work well for either side though.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind was racing, trying to get to the crux of Mesmer¡¯s point. ¡°So, the bad news is the people of Topeka will suffer? It doesn¡¯t have to be that way though, right? We can¡ª¡± He cut off as the revenant shook his head.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the bad news¡ªthough it¡¯s certainly bad.¡± His eyes swirled violet, seeming to lock onto Terry with a deep-set melancholy. ¡°The bad news, is that someone the Emperor trusts needs to remain behind, to hold West Topeka and to govern¡­¡±

    Terry squinted, not understanding the implication at first. Whipvine? Definitely not Savage. Then the obvious truth hit him like a slap in the face. His expression dropped, his head feeling light, dizzy.

    ¡°My father?¡± he whispered. ¡°Dad¡¯s staying in Topeka.¡±

    Mesmer¡¯s face tightened, but he said nothing.

    ¡°The fuck?¡± Tania said at his side. ¡°No way he is, right?¡± She turned back and forth between the two of them. ¡°That would be¡­¡±

    ¡°Cruel?¡± Terry supplied, his eyes homing in on the white rose encased in Mesmer¡¯s bookshelf.

    Tania deflated, waving her hand around as if trying to find the words.

    ¡°I was gonna say fucked up.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± He felt a draw toward that white rose¡ªalmost a compulsion to reach out and remove its case, stroke its petals. Would he feel closer to his mom? Or would it just remind him of what he had lost?

    A weight settled on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Terry. It¡¯s not fair, but it¡¯s necessary.¡±

    He felt numb, disconnected. The sounds were entering his ears, the words processed by his brain. But the emotions that should have come felt distant, separated by a chasm he couldn¡¯t bridge.

    Tania¡¯s furious voice cut through it all.

    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit!¡±

    Mesmer¡¯s gaze lingered a moment, then twisted on the girl.

    ¡°You¡¯re not helping¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, screw that!¡± He noticed her indicate him with a finger in his peripherals. ¡°He just lost his mother. And fine, his father had to go off fighting for reasons. But now, he¡¯s staying in Topeka? That¡¯s some grade-A, pasture-raised, chicken-shit¡ª¡±

    Mesmer turned on her with a protest on his lips, but Terry beat him to it.

    ¡°Tania, it-I¡¯m¡­¡± He searched for the words but found them fleeting. ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m¡­not fine. But getting mad at Mes won¡¯t change anything.¡± She opened her mouth to respond, but he held up a hand in frustration. ¡°Just¡­just leave it¡­please. I-I need to be alone for a bit.¡± He looked away, his eyes finding his mother¡¯s rose again. ¡°I¡¯ll come find you¡­later.¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer at first, so he looked back to see if he¡¯d pissed her off. But she was chewing her lip nervously, a searching look in her eyes. After a moment, she nodded.

    ¡°Okay, Terry. Yeah, come find me later.¡±

    He nodded and started for the door, then paused. Turning back, he waved toward Mesmer.

    ¡°See ya, Mes.¡±

    He didn¡¯t wait for a response, leaving the revenant¡¯s office with quick steps, Crunch at his side while Burg and Blood joined the two of them from where they had been waiting. He felt one of the ghouls flare their aura and Crunch¡¯s own aura shifted in reply. But for the first time, he wasn¡¯t excited about his improving aura sense, wasn¡¯t interested in trying to parse the information silently passing between the undead.

    There was only one thing on his mind.

    He left the ghouls outside his bedroom and marched to his desk, powering on the screen. A dormant chat window stared back at him and he pressed a button to reconnect.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: changed my mind, when and where can we meet?

    </blockquote>

    He leaned back, staring at his ceiling as he replayed the wraith-glass scenes in his mind. Whipvine decapitating the Scourge, Savage chewing through his skull and swallowing it practically whole, and his father¡­

    A ping startled him and he turned back to the computer in surprise.

    <blockquote>

    [IBelieve]: can you ditch the rotters?

    </blockquote>

    Terry hesitated at the question. Could he? No, more importantly¡­should he?

    Then he remembered, father wasn¡¯t coming back to Wichita anytime soon. The memory suddenly stabbed through him, burning his thoughts into a white-hot fire. What did he care about the rules, about staying in the palace? This IBelieve person had information about his mother and that was more important than anything else.

    Of course, the last time he¡¯d left the palace had been disastrous, leaving seven ghouls dead. Which just meant, he¡¯d have to go on his own. He¡¯d have to sneak out of the palace¡­Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    He typed back a response.

    <blockquote>

    [RoseBud]: yeah, but give me some time to come up with a plan. I¡¯ll msg you later

    </blockquote>

    Rising from his chair, he pulled open the door and leaned out. Crunch and Burg were there, Bloodstain nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°My prince?¡± Crunch asked.

    ¡°I changed my mind, could one of you please ask Tania to come see me?¡±

    Crunch and Burg didn¡¯t share a look like humans might have, but Terry felt their auras mingle for the briefest second before Crunch nodded.

    ¡°I go. Tania listen Crunch.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Crunch.¡±

    He went back into his room and waited impatiently on his bed.

    This is a crap plan, he thought. I¡¯m wasting Tania¡¯s time. She¡¯s gonna laugh at me.

    No, this will work. It has to work. IBelieve knows things, things I want to know. Need to know.

    You¡¯re gonna get someone else hurt. How could you forget those seven dead ghouls so easily?

    I didn¡¯t forget! That¡¯s why I¡¯ll leave them behind. I¡¯ll only be putting myself at risk.

    And Tania¡­

    No, she has the safest role in the plan.

    If she even agrees. What if she doesn¡¯t? What if she rats on you?

    She won¡¯t¡­

    Cause you know her so well?

    She won¡¯t!

    He growled in frustration, knowing that the objections he was throwing about were valid, knowing that he was being obstinate. But he had to do something. Another week in this room taking no steps toward solving his mother¡¯s death would drive him crazy.

    I have to do something!

    A knock on his door a few minutes later rescued him from his spiraling thoughts. He rushed to pull it open, a beaming smile on his face as he saw Tania standing there.

    ¡°Hey, thanks for coming so quickly.¡±

    She shrugged, stepping past him into his room. He suddenly realized that he could have at least picked up a bit before inviting the girl in.

    ¡°Not like I had other plans.¡± She looked back at him after turning a quick circle to take in the room. ¡°Though I thought you needed some alone time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, about that¡­¡± He turned to Crunch who waited expectantly at the door. ¡°Can you, uh, give us some privacy?¡± The ghoul¡¯s aura shifted at that, but he didn¡¯t argue. Terry watched as the two ghouls split, each taking a position fifty feet down either side of the hall. When he closed the door and turned back, Tania¡¯s eyebrows were nearly in her hairline.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you think this is,¡± she started. ¡°But I thought you needed a friend to talk to, not¡­¡± She waved her hand as if to indicate something else entirely.

    With a horrified gasp, he realized what she was implying.

    ¡°Oh my God, nononono, that wasn¡¯t, that isn¡¯t, I did¡ª¡±

    He cut off, the smirk stretching across her face letting him know she wasn¡¯t mad. But he still felt mortified that he¡¯d been giving her that impression.

    ¡°Just checking,¡± she said wryly. ¡°Dad always told me boys only want one thing, but I think he was just trying to scare me.¡±

    I mean, if I¡¯m being honest, she is really pretty¡­when she¡¯s not snarling or breaking my ribs or¡ª

    NO, focus!

    ¡°I-uh.¡± Why was the back of his neck so hot! ¡°Ahem, well, I, uh, asked Crunch to get you because I¡¯ve been talking with someone interesting online.¡±

    Her smile dropped at that and she tilted her head in confusion.

    ¡°Ooookay¡­¡±

    ¡°Not like that,¡± he said quickly. ¡°It¡¯s an adult.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Crap, no, I mean, they know something about my mom. How she died, or maybe even what happened¡­I think. They''re a bit coy actually, but I think¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh! This is about your mom? You were freaking me out for a minute. Thought you were chatting with an online predator or something.¡± She frowned. ¡°Actually, you still could be. Thought about that?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­no¡­¡±

    She nodded knowingly, then out of nowhere, threw herself onto his bed. Then she shot up and cast him an angry glare. ¡°Are you kidding me!¡±

    ¡°What? What!¡±

    She lounged back on his bed with a deep sigh. ¡°This is the most comfortable bed I¡¯ve laid on in¡­my entire life, actually.¡±

    Terry chuckled, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see about getting you one.¡±

    She shook her head with a snort. ¡°So the other girls can hate me more than they already do? No, I¡¯m used to cheap beds.¡± She fluffed one of his pillows up behind her head and settled in. ¡°Okay, tell me everything.¡±

    There¡¯s a girl on my bed! was his first thought. His second thought was the relief that he finally had someone to talk to about all of this.

    Sitting on the corner of the bed, far enough away so it wouldn¡¯t be awkward, he started explaining how he¡¯d met IBelieve.

    ¡°So, there¡¯s this website called Necrotalk forums¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Tania was surprisingly amenable to his plan. Frighteningly so, in fact. Like the drama of sneaking Terry out of the palace was a fun game. Or maybe, it simply served as a distraction from the loss she must have been feeling.

    Either way, he had to remind himself that this wasn¡¯t a game. As innocuous as this might seem, he couldn¡¯t let himself forget what had happened the last time he¡¯d left the palace. He had to be serious. He had to be focused. He had to be¡ª

    ¡°Why the hell¡¯s your face scrunched up like that?¡± Tania blurted, cutting across his thoughts like an air horn.

    ¡°Like what?¡± he asked indignantly. ¡°This is just my face.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯ve got it all mashed together, like this¡ª¡± She contorted her expression, squinting her eyes and furling her nose, like she¡¯d got a bad whiff of something. ¡°You constipated or something?¡±

    ¡°What! No, I¡¯m not constipated, Tania. I¡¯m focused. This is my focused face.¡±

    She relaxed her expression, shrugging as she plopped back onto his pillow and picked up the magazine she¡¯d discarded. ¡°Looks constipated to me.¡±

    He bit back his response, tugging a knot tight on the rope he¡¯d made out of spare sheets. Despite Tania¡¯s enthusiasm for the plan, she had proved remarkably unhelpful when it came to actually crafting the length of jerry-rigged rope he would need to descend from his window.

    In fact, she¡¯d mostly just combed through his books and magazines while she popped some gum she¡¯d found in his desk drawer.

    To be fair, the plan wasn¡¯t exactly complex. He just needed her in the room running interference while he snuck out. The truth was, he didn¡¯t know the range on his ghoul bodyguards¡¯ aura sense, nor was he sure that they wouldn¡¯t pop their head in to check on him. But with the girl there, there would at least be one aura in the room to throw them off.

    Plus, he had implied that him and Tania were¡­doing things. He didn¡¯t think a ghoul could be embarrassed, but he hoped they had the good sense not to barge in at a bare minimum.

    Which brought him to now¡­standing by his window, clutching a sheet-rope, wondering if he was out of his mind.

    He pushed the doubts out of his mind, tugging on the rope so that it snapped taut where it was anchored beneath the leg of his bed.

    It¡¯ll hold¡­I think¡­

    As satisfied as he could be without actually throwing himself out the window, he moved over to his computer and turned on some music from the net¡ªa popular band that intermingled throat singing and heavy metal. It kind of reminded him of the undead singing in the Evolution Chamber¡­except for the heavy metal part. Dialing up the volume, he spotted Tania cringing on the bed and maliciously ticked it up a few more notches.

    ¡°Does it have to be so loud!¡± she shouted, her voice practically lost against the background music. ¡°And so obnoxious!¡±

    He turned his head to the side and held up a hand like he couldn¡¯t hear her.

    ¡°What!¡± he shouted back.

    She clamped her mouth shut and flipped him the finger. ¡°I¡¯m changing it the second you leave.¡±

    He ignored her, turning toward the window. If he was being honest with himself, he¡¯d been dragging his feet a bit, rechecking the knots, triple-inventorying the things in his bag, and so on. All of that, to avoid this next part.

    He indicated the window with his thumb. ¡°Here I go.¡±

    She held a hand to her ear, mocking his motion from a moment before. He returned the favor by echoing her middle finger. Her body convulsed in a snort, drowned out by the music.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± she called, her face turning serious.

    He nodded, stepping to the window to hide what he was sure was a terrified expression.

    This is a crap plan, isn¡¯t it? Why do I need to meet this guy in person again? What if he kidnaps me, holds me for ransom? Or worse, what if he¡¯s a Topeka spy? A Knights sympathizer?

    The doubts had been tumbling around in his head, chipping away at his resolve like salt spray against the cliffs. But every time, he came back to a single thought.

    He knows something about my mom¡¯s death¡­

    That was all the motivation he needed, and he eased the window open. With a shaking breath, he climbed atop the windowsill and got a grip on the sheet-rope. As he tried to turn and climb down backwards, his backpack caught on the edge of the window frame. The wind took that moment to pick up, rattling the window against the wall. His head felt light, dizzy. The wind powerful, grabbing at him. He focused on his mom, dropped to a knee, angled his backpack through the gap, then dangled his feet over the edge.

    Below, the city was shrouded in fog, hiding the ground below. The fog looked eerily like clouds and he had to push down the irrational thought that he was much higher than he actually was.

    Don¡¯t look down, don¡¯t look down.

    He repeated the words to himself as he reached his feet to grip a knot. One hand moved down, found purchase, then another. Sweat slicked his palms and he cursed himself for not wiping them on his pants before descending.

    He looked up¡ªmostly to keep from looking down¡ªand spotted Tania staring down at him. She had an easy-going smile splitting her face and flashed him a thumbs up. He nodded in return, feigning a confidence he didn¡¯t feel.

    Turning his full attention to the task of inching down the rope, he made slow but steady pace. Hand, hand, slide his feet down. Hand, hand, feet. Hand, hand, feet.

    Before he knew it, he was among the fog and he felt a desperate need to reach with his toes to find solid ground. But he continued the course, sliding down one handgrip at a time, until he finally touched pavement.

    He let go of the sheets with a pained gasp, his hands stuck clenched, his forearms burning with lactic heat. Shaking them out, he glanced up but found the fog obscuring his view of his window. He was disappointed he couldn¡¯t signal Tania that he¡¯d made it, but she¡¯d figure it out soon enough.

    With nothing else for it, he shifted the weight of his backpack on his shoulders and took off toward the arranged meeting spot at a jog.

    It was almost time to meet up with IBelieve.

 Chapter 21: The Keeper of the Plains

    The Keeper of the Plains was one of the most stunning landmarks in the city and one of the few still standing after the Splintering. At over 40 feet tall, on top of a 30-foot-high rock pedestal, the Native American monument dominates the horizon for hundreds of feet in every direction. At night, flames are lit around its base, creating an effect which can¡¯t be beat in all of Wichita.

    But tonight, as Terry approached the landmark on foot, all he could see was the fog. He felt a pang as he approached the monument, reminded painfully that the city had lost all of its beauty with his grandfather¡¯s working. His mother had brought him here frequently for the nighttime lighting and she would have been devastated to know that it was lost to the fog.

    That didn¡¯t matter right now. Tonight was a night for answers and clandestine meetings. His palms were slick as he followed the trail along the Arkansas River, careful not to step off the side and end up taking a bath. He wiped his hands on his pants for the hundredth time, then fingered the pocketknife in his jeans. He had no intention of actually using the thing in self-defense, but he hoped it would serve as some sort of deterrent if IBelieve turned out to be¡­well, he didn¡¯t know what, exactly, but not what they claimed to be, at least.

    There was no denying it though, IBelieve definitely had video footage that corroborated their intentions. And it was a stretch of the imagination to think an enemy of Wichita could possibly be trolling Necrotalk Forums on the off chance that they could snag the prince. How would you even set something like that up? Anyways, Terry had reached out to IBelieve, not the other way around. Worst-case scenario, they were probably just a kook with too much time on their hands and a camera pointed at the Wichitan farms¡­for whatever reason.

    Still, the tiny knife was a comforting weight in his pocket as he fast walked toward the meeting spot.

    It was a brisk night, much colder than it had any right to be, presumably because the sun was obscured. A shiver traced up his back and he hunched into his windbreaker, pulling the zipper up tight and covering the lower half of his face with the high neckline. He had packed a few essentials¡ªa flashlight, a pen and notebook to take notes, a protein bar, and a whistle loud enough to cut through the fog¡ªbut no extra jacket or change of clothes.

    Note to self, pack for the weather¡­

    As he passed over the bridge that led to the plaza housing the Keeper of the Plains, he checked his watch and saw he was six minutes early. Movement at the plaza caught his eye and his stomach flipped. Was that IBelieve? A figure resolved in the fog, then another. They were holding hands, strolling casually across the plaza toward the statue.

    He chuckled to himself, the knot in his chest relaxing. He found his hand was clutched tight around the pocketknife and he let it go with a snort.

    What are you gonna do with that, Terry? You¡¯re not stabbing anyone, even if they did attack you.

    No, his best defense were the running shoes laced up tight on his feet. At the first sign of anything weird, he¡¯d just bolt.

    I¡¯m definitely not punching, charging, or otherwise engaging with anything supernatural or villainous. Definitely not.

    Now that he was in the plaza proper, he spotted a few people milling about or sitting on the nearby benches. The breeze from the intersecting Arkansas and Little Arkansas rivers wasn¡¯t strong enough to clear the fog, but it did fight back, providing slightly better visibility.

    Passing through the plaza, he saw at least a dozen people and it put a smile on his face. Despite everything, despite the cloying fog, the rotting smell, and the oppressive night, people were gathering, laughing, waiting to see the Keeper of the Plains light up in a few minutes.

    IBelieve had mentioned meeting in public, but Terry had never imagined there would actually be people here. It filled him with an irrational hope, as if things could get better, with time. Maybe one day, he¡¯d even get over the loss of his mom. Maybe he¡¯d be able to laugh and enjoy life the way these people were. It didn¡¯t feel like it would be today, or tomorrow, or even weeks from now. But one day, the edge to his pain would be gone, a dull ache replacing the sharp hurt.

    The clock was about to hit seven and the small crowd of people gathered in tight, like a herd sheltering together for warmth and safety and companionship. He felt himself drawn to these strangers, a moth to the flame.

    A whoosh filled the air, yellow-red fire coming to life in the first brazier perched above the water. Heat and light bloomed, burning through the fog, illuminating the people around him. A cheer went up, soft, but pure. He smiled at that, forgetting his purpose for being here, reveling in the unadulterated happiness that he could practically feel.

    With a start, he realized he could feel the joy. The aura of the bystanders played around him, conjoining into an amorphous wave that carried the feel-good energy. He basked in it as another brazier lit, then another. In a moment, all five burned bright, the heat palpable from the viewing area.

    ¡°It¡¯s really something, innit?¡±

    Terry turned to see a mousy man, barely taller than him, standing a few feet to his left. He had thick glasses reflecting the flames, hiding his eyes as Terry glanced over. Short stubble marred his cheeks and chin, doing a poor job of concealing the man¡¯s gaunt features.

    Terry¡¯s pulse quickened and he turned to face the small man. Instinct almost caused him to blurt out, ask if the man was IBelieve. But good sense intervened at the last moment.

    ¡°Sure is,¡± he replied hesitantly. ¡°Was my mother¡¯s favorite part of Wichita.¡±

    The man turned to face Terry, scanning left and right to observe the other bystanders before speaking.

    ¡°I know,¡± he replied. ¡°My drones tracked the princess coming here nearly every week.¡±

    Terry gasped, though he didn¡¯t know why. He had strongly suspected the man was IBelieve. But some part of him had still felt like none of this was real, that IBelieve was trolling him or would have cold feet¡ªor a million other reasons why he wouldn¡¯t show up.

    But seeing the man in person suddenly made this all real, brought his purpose into focus.

    ¡°IBelieve?¡± he asked, inching forward. ¡°You said you had more¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not here,¡± the man hissed, his head nearly doing a full circle as eyed the small crowd. He waved for Terry to follow and made for a bench on the edge of the plaza.

    Despite everything, he was nervous to leave the safety of the people and the light from the braziers. But this was actually IBelieve! The man who claimed to have more videos of his mother.

    Terry followed him, perching on the edge of the bench, his feet firmly beneath him, ready to spring up and make a run for it at the first sign of anything weird. But as he sat down, IBelieve looked away, as if he were having trouble holding eye contact. A waver in the air caught Terry¡¯s attention¡ªthe man¡¯s aura pushing out, hesitating, drawing back.

    He¡¯s nervous¡­and not in the, I¡¯m setting you up for a double-cross type of way. He¡¯s just¡­a nervous person.

    And his aura, though hesitant, felt slightly stronger, more robust than a single person usually felt like.

    Then it hit him.

    ¡°You¡¯re a super!¡± Terry gasped.

    The man¡¯s eyes bugged out behind his thick glasses, locking on Terry before flitting away to check their surroundings for the third time.

    ¡°Am not,¡± he protested, but the words were weak, the lie bald before Terry¡¯s burgeoning aura sense.

    He¡¯s unregistered, Terry realized.

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not trying to out you or anything,¡± he said quickly, holding his hands up. ¡°I just¡­it hit me, is all.¡± The man looked tense, as if he were about to get up and bolt off. ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re unregistered¡ª¡± He flinched at that. ¡°¡ªreally! I just want to know what happened to my mom¡­¡±

    The man chewed his lip, his eyes studying Terry with a sudden intensity. Now, Terry was the one squirming.

    After a far too long pause, IBelieve seemed to come to a decision.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m unregistered,¡± he finally said. The nervousness seemed to leak out of the man with the admission. ¡°I have my reasons, let¡¯s leave it at that.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Terry replied as earnestly as he could. ¡°Really, I don¡¯t care about that. You said you had more videos of that day. And of¡­my mom.¡±

    IBelieve nodded, glancing around them distractedly.

    ¡°I always follow the royal family with my drones¡ªat a distance, of course,¡± he added with an embarrassed look. ¡°I¡¯m not creepy about it.¡±

    Terry very carefully kept his expression blank.

    ¡°So, you were following me and my family when we visited the farms?¡± A shiver of excitement passed through him. ¡°You caught the whole thing, then! You know what happened to my mom!¡±

    He looked off sheepishly. ¡°Um, well¡­I did catch the whole thing, but I don¡¯t know what happened to the princess.¡±

    Terry stared blankly at the man, not quite comprehending his words. The silence stretched and IBelieve turned back, his lips peeled back in a cringe.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°You know, uh, how about I just show you?¡±

    He pulled a tablet from the bag perched between his feet and Terry¡¯s heart began to pound.

    This was it, this was the video that had been haunting my dreams. I¡¯d finally get to see the entire fight, figure out what had happened to mom. But why did IBelieve say he didn¡¯t know what happened?

    Terry shifted over to look at the screen.

    Guess I¡¯m about to find out.

    The angle of the video was different than the one IBelieve had sent him over Necrotalk Forums. It was crisper, too, the resolution sharp enough for Terry to make out the details he had missed before.

    He saw Savage leap to follow Crunch and Terry, but ignored that to home in on his father, mother, and the rest of the Knights.

    A team of ghouls distracted the Scourge as Terry¡¯s father summoned Skol and Hati. The two dire wolves slipped through a portal cutting across the air and immediately charged to assist the ghouls. His mother angled a hand toward Sol and the light threading into his body from the sun dimmed noticeably.

    Pride toward his mother¡¯s strength filled his chest.

    The Siren angled behind Sol, out of sight as she approached James from his blindside. Knowing that his father would ultimately be unscathed, he kept his eyes on Sol and his mother.

    But the two weren¡¯t fighting. Instead, Sol floated above her, and it seemed as if he were saying something.

    ¡°Can you magnify that?¡± he asked IBelieve. ¡°Maybe we can read his lips or¡ª¡±

    ¡°Already done.¡±

    A caption appeared at the bottom of the feed as the view narrowed in to show Sol, the Siren, and his parents.

    [I didn¡¯t come to fight you! I¡¯m here to rescue you!]

    Terry¡¯s thoughts faltered and he missed the next part as he tried to understand Sol¡¯s words.

    ¡°Hold on, can you pause.¡± The feed froze without the man hitting a button. Neural integration? he wondered for a moment before shifting back on topic. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s right? What¡­why did Sol say he didn¡¯t want to fight?¡± He looked up to study IBelieve¡¯s face. ¡°Savage was literally kidnapping me!¡±

    IBelieve¡¯s eyes were glued to the tablet, his jaw clenching over and over again.

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep watching before I say anything else.¡± Now, he did glance up at Terry, a nervous expression on his face.

    He wanted to protest, demand answers, shake the man until he explained. But he had no right to interrogate IBelieve¡ªhe was grateful just for the chance at an explanation.

    ¡°Okay, can you go back, I missed some of it.¡±

    The feed skipped back of its own accord.

    [I didn¡¯t come to fight you! I¡¯m here to rescue you!]

    His mother¡¯s back was turned to the camera, but she was obviously responding.

    Sol held up his hands and backed away. Was he¡­scared?

    [I promised your father I¡¯d¡ªno, don¡¯t do this.]

    His mother pushed a wave of power toward Sol. The camera couldn¡¯t quite track the energy, but Sol¡¯s reaction was enough. The powerful super dodged away, his flight turning erratic, like he¡¯d hit turbulence. Another wave of power emitted from his mother, and Sol did his best to dodge.

    ¡°Look at the Siren,¡± IBelieve suggested softly. Terry dragged his gaze away from his mother¡¯s battle with Sol, telling himself he could rewatch the feed to catch what he missed. But he found it difficult to pull his thoughts away.

    Did Sol kill mom? Why was he refusing to fight? And he¡¯d mentioned mom¡¯s father. She had never brought up her father¡­ever.

    His thoughts cut off, his chest clenching. The Siren had maneuvered behind his father, mere feet away from the man. Irrationally, Terry wanted to shout watch out. His father would sense her, right? He¡¯d turn around in time.

    But he didn¡¯t. Her hand clasped his shoulder and a shudder arced through his body. A moment later, she fell back, collapsing from the strain.

    She was only a B-ranker, what was she thinking¡ª

    James whirled around and even zoomed out as the feed was, Terry could see the unbridled rage in his father¡¯s eyes. Siren noticed too, and started crawling away, her body seeming to be taxed beyond the brink.

    His father regarded her with murderous intent, then turned toward his mother. Terry also shifted his attention, having lost track of her fight with Sol, only to gasp as he saw her curled up on the ground, her body spasming.

    She was still alive!

    He expected his father to race across the field, defend his exposed mother from Sol¡¯s retaliation while she was helpless. Instead, his father turned back to the Siren, strolling over to kick her onto her back.

    A wild shout echoed out of the tablet¡ªSol¡¯s voice, Terry realized, powerful enough to reach the camera from hundreds of meters away. His father looked up, met Sol¡¯s eyes across the field, then stomped his foot down on the Siren¡¯s neck.

    ¡°No¡­¡± Terry gasped, reeling away from the bench. His legs trembled, his stomach twisting. What had he just seen, what had his father¡ª

    His dinner splashed out onto the pavement and he collapsed to his knees. Bile burned his throat, vomit caked his pants. He didn¡¯t care. None of it mattered.

    His father had executed the Siren rather than save his mother.

    ¡°Why?¡± he gasped to himself.

    He reached a hand up to the bench to steady him. He half expected IBelieve to have gone, but the man stared back at him, biting his lip as he regarded Terry.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± he muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he forced himself to his feet. IBelieve watched him stand with obvious trepidation, but Terry took a steadying breath and returned to the bench.

    ¡°Keep playing, please. Go back to right before¡ª¡± Before dad executed the Siren. The words wouldn¡¯t come, but IBelieve understood and the feed skipped back.

    This time, he kept his eyes on his mother as the Siren touched his father with her powers. Mother had been mid attack, sending a wave of power toward Sol, when she suddenly froze. Then, she seemed to cry out, collapsing to the ground as Sol hovered in the distance.

    Terry squinted, his entire focus turned on the details of the battle. It hadn¡¯t been Sol, he realized. The powerful S-ranker hadn¡¯t so much as lifted a finger against his mother.

    ¡°Go back, please.¡±

    The feed cut back once more.

    Terry¡¯s eyes skipped between his father and mother, watching for the moment. And then¡ª

    ¡°It happened at the exact same time,¡± he whispered. He looked to IBelieve with wide eyes. ¡°The exact same second.¡±

    The man hesitated, then nodded.

    ¡°One more time, please.¡±

    The Siren reached out, his mother prepared an attack, and then, the Siren¡¯s powers affected his father and in the exact same moment, the White Rose faltered, then collapsed.

    There was a connection, feedback¡­

    ¡°My father¡­¡± Terry thought back to that moment in his bedroom, his father giving him the news of his mother¡¯s death. ¡°He said the feedback from Siren killed my mother. But this¡­¡±

    Terry forced himself to watch as his father executed Siren once more, though he kept his attention on his mother¡¯s convulsing body as much as he could. She would stop seizing any minute now, slipping into death caused by¡­what?

    And she did stop seizing. But instead of lying there, still and quiet, she moved. Terry¡¯s eyes widened as she rolled to all fours, then stood up with a confused expression visible even from a distance.

    Sol had also moved, yelling with rage as he raced toward where Terry¡¯s father loomed over the Siren¡¯s corpse. His father yelled something to his mother, cupping his hands over his mouth so that there were no captions. But Sol was coming in fast and his father was obviously only moments away from being torn apart by the powerful S-ranker.

    Instead of replying to his father or coming to his aid, his mother turned and¡­

    ¡°She ran away¡­¡± Terry looked up at IBelieve. ¡°She ran away! She¡¯s alive!¡± Then, the confusing realization hit him. ¡°She¡¯s alive? But why didn¡¯t she come home? And whose body was that in the casket?¡±

    IBelieve didn¡¯t respond, so Terry turned back to the feed to see if there were any answers to be had.

    Sol was nearly upon James, so the prince turned and ran. Sol was blocking the path to Terry¡¯s mother, so he watched as his father fled across the field toward where Savage was fighting Crunch. His two dire wolves appeared at his side as the Scourge fled on one of his swarms.

    Sol arrived at the Siren¡¯s body and lifted her into his lap, stroking her hair delicately as he openly wept. A few moments later, the telltale gathering of light signaled what Terry already knew would come.

    He turned away from the feed and regarded the cool night and the slowly emptying plaza. He wasn¡¯t sure how long he stared out blankly, wasn¡¯t even sure if IBelieve was still at his side on the bench. His mind felt doused in kerosene, like a single thought would set it aflame.

    An involuntary chill traced up his spine from the dropping temperature, shaking him from his fugue state.

    He turned, half expecting to be alone, and was surprised to see the mousy man regarding him with a plain sadness in his eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­sorry,¡± he said. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have shown you that.¡±

    Terry shook his head, his thoughts confused about everything except one thing: he was happy IBelieve had shown him what had really happened.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m glad you did. Thank you, really. I¡­don¡¯t know exactly what to think about all of this, but it¡¯s given me hope.¡± He felt the resolve solidify inside his mind, a purpose and an understanding mingling to form a foundation for him to examine his emotions¡ªalone. ¡°This proves that my mother¡¯s alive.¡± And that my instincts about my father were right. The realization that he had idolized the wrong man stung, but he would push past that on his own time. ¡°I better get back before my bodyguards start to wonder. Will you¡­can we stay in touch? Please.¡±

    IBelieve bit his lip nervously, seeming to consider, then finally nodded.

    ¡°Yeah, it would be nice to have someone to talk to about these things.¡± Then he held out his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Arthur, but you can call me Art.¡±

    Terry smiled, though he still felt an ache in his heart that made the expression feel hollow, distant.

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Art. I¡¯m Terry.¡±

    <hr>

    He walked back along the trail, his thoughts confusing and painful. He wanted nothing else but to linger out of the palace, work through the pain and confusion he was feeling. But he¡¯d been gone long enough and he didn¡¯t want Tania to worry.

    With a start, he realized he was outside the palace, right below his window. He had been so distracted, he didn¡¯t even know how he had made it back. But the cold was starting to become biting and he was glad for the opportunity to collapse onto his bed and forget this night, even if for just a few hours as he slept.

    The sheet-rope was pulled up out of sight, but that was expected. It would have been pretty suspicious leaving it dangling outside the window all night.

    ¡°Tania,¡± he called up, keeping his voice tight. But his window was six stories up and the fog obscured his view. He raised his voice a bit, wincing as he called out again. ¡°Tania! It¡¯s Terry, can you hear me?¡±

    He was about to call up again when the rope slipped through the fog in front of him.

    With a sigh of relief, he gripped the knots. His muscles felt numb from the cold and the spent emotions, but he shook his hands out and started climbing.

    The climb felt like it took forever and he gasped in relief when he finally reached the top. He practically rolled over the windowsill, flopping to the ground in an exhausted heap.

    ¡°Tania, you won¡¯t believe it. I don¡¯t even really believe it¡ª¡±

    Two long, red legs came into view, powerful and inhuman. Toe-blades dug into the carpet and the sound of jagged teeth filled the room.

    Terry looked up to see Crunch, his single eye boring into him, though his face was expressionless beneath the melted skin.

    ¡°No Tania, only Crunch.¡±

    Terry¡¯s stomach clenched and he grasped at his bed weakly as he pulled himself to his feet.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Crunch,¡± he started. ¡°I¡­you didn¡¯t punish Tania, did you? It was my idea and¡­¡± He trailed off, too emotionally drained to say more.

    Crunch was silent for a moment and Terry squirmed under his gaze. Then, the ghoul reached up a hand and Terry had the irrational fear that his friend was going to strike him. But his hand simply wrapped around the backpack strap over his shoulder, easing it off. Hefting the bag, he set it on the nearby desk, then turned back to Terry.

    ¡°Where go?¡± Crunch finally asked.

    Terry hesitated a moment, knowing he had disappointed his friend. He didn¡¯t even consider a lie, the shame burning away the thought.

    ¡°I met someone online,¡± he admitted. ¡°He had videos of the Knights'' attack and¡­I went to see him.¡±

    ¡°No tell Crunch? Meet stranger? Why?¡±

    Terry flinched at those words, hearing the hurt behind them.

    ¡°I¡­I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d understand.¡±

    He looked away, unable to meet the ghoul¡¯s eye. A pause filled the air, sucking in the silence like it was about to burst.

    Then, Crunch put a hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Crunch understand.¡±

    The silence exploded inside of him, the wall he¡¯d been trying to build against his emotions cracking, tumbling away. A sob burst from him, tears that he couldn¡¯t fight cresting his eyes. He threw himself against Crunch¡¯s sturdy body, wrapping his arms around his friend.

    ¡°C-crunch, it wa-was horrible.¡± An ugly cry-hiccup took him and he could barely squeeze the words out. ¡°M-my father¡­¡± No, he couldn¡¯t squeeze the words out. ¡°And m-my mom mi-might be a-alive.¡±

    Crunch wrapped his arm around Terry, squeezing him tight.

    ¡°Crunch friend. Tell Crunch everything.¡±

    End of Part One: Fallout

 Chapter 22: Legacy

    Part Two: The Awakening

    6 Months Later¡­

    ¡°The difference between Catalyst Class powers and Alterant Class powers are subtle, but significant.¡±

    Terry¡¯s head leaned back against the desk chair, his eyes counting tiles on the ceiling for the hundredth time. He was pretty sure he¡¯d heard this exact same lecture¡ªor some variant of it¡ªfrom the Professor just as many times.

    He let his mind drift off, losing track of the tiles at one-hundred-and-seventy-three. He already knew there were one-thousand-two-hundred-and-twenty-six¡ªnot counting the thirty-seven broken and chipped ones.

    Catalyst and Alterant were fine as far as classes went¡ªobjectively, they could be really powerful actually. But Terry wanted to be a Distorter, just like mom. Or if not that, at least a Visionary or Amplifier¡ªthey were both considered top tier Classes and could still swap to Distorter via the Midmark Quest.

    When he was younger, he¡¯d have preferred Duelist or Summoner, like Whipvine or his father. But now, there was no appeal to being a physical-type super, not when there was so much he still didn¡¯t know.

    Something sharp jabbed into his rib and he yelped, shooting up in his chair to spot the aggressor grinning at him evilly in the adjacent desk.

    ¡°If I have to sit through this,¡± Tania whispered, ¡°you do, too.¡±

    He snarled and went to swat at the pen she had poked him with, but she pulled her hand back too fast.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been listening to the Professor rotate through the same lectures for six years,¡± he hissed. ¡°You¡¯ve only been at it for six months.¡±

    ¡°Six months of this is like six years,¡± she whispered back. ¡°It¡¯s like dog years, I¡¯m basically a grizzled old vet when it comes to lectures on superpowers.¡± She tilted her head with a smile. ¡°Guess that makes you the old fart.¡±

    ¡°It makes me your elder,¡± he replied haughtily. ¡°Show some respect to your elder young lady.¡±

    She rolled her eyes, then blew a raspberry¡ªa bit too loud. The two of them froze, whipping their heads toward the Professor who was writing on the board with her stylus. She finished her sentence with a flourish, then turned to regard the two of them.

    ¡°Boring you, am I?¡± The question was delivered with a bland expression, no malice in her tone. All the same, neither of them felt like sticking their neck out to reply. After a moment, she sighed. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s to be expected, with your Awakening tomorrow, Prince Terry.¡± She set her stylus down and perched on the edge of her desk. ¡°Fine, how about we discuss that, then?¡±

    That got both of them double-taking. The Professor never talked about super Awakenings¡ªno one did. Not on the net, not in Terry¡¯s classes¡ªnot even in hushed whispers. It was the only thing he had never been able to find more information about, other than System-given Quests. The Taboo Duo, the secrets only the Awakened were initiated into.

    ¡°I thought supers couldn¡¯t talk about the Awakening?¡± Tania asked, echoing Terry¡¯s own thoughts.

    ¡°Oh, no, I can¡¯t discuss the specifics of the process,¡± the Professor replied, dashing his hopes.

    Well, he had waited fourteen years to finally learn what the Awakening entailed, what was another fourteen hours? Still, he was desperate for any little tidbit.

    ¡°Then what we talking bout here?¡± Tania asked with a shrug.

    The Professor pushed her glasses up her nose, her eyes blinking slow, like she had just woken up. She had always possessed a dreamy quality to her, like the part that was addressing you was a distant, small part of her focus. He knew that was a Savant peculiarity, that they could partition their minds to create distinct threads of thought, which led to them sometimes seeming distracted. But the Professor seemed to take it to an entirely new level, like she was barely present in the physical realm.

    ¡°Well, Tania, I thought we¡¯d discuss your expectations. Your own Awakening isn¡¯t far off and it can be useful to visualize yourself receiving each Class individually.¡± She paused, her eyes blinking three times as her gaze went out of focus. Terry and Tania exchanged a knowing look before the Professor¡¯s mind came back to the room. She continued her line of thought as if she hadn¡¯t just stared blankly at the wall for five long seconds. ¡°That way, you won¡¯t be disappointed, no matter what you receive.¡±

    Tania scoffed. ¡°Already know what I¡¯m getting.¡±

    Terry bit his cheek but didn¡¯t respond. She was touchy about this subject, but the Professor had all the tact of a bull in a china shop.

    ¡°Impossible.¡±

    The girl sniffed in irritation, crossing her arms defiantly.

    ¡°Getting Traveler, like my mom.¡±

    The Professor picked up her stylus and tapped it to her lips. ¡°Unlikely. In fact, pop quiz. What percentage of Awakened receive the Traveler class?¡± She looked between the two of them expectantly.

    Terry slinked into his chair, already sensing the trap. The Professor seemed not to recognize the danger, nor his reluctance. She flipped her stylus in the air and Terry watched with wide-eyed horror as it pirouetted through the air, angling toward him like a falling knife. With a thud, it embedded in his desk, landing in the space between his index and middle finger. Belatedly, he yanked his hand back with a soft yelp.

    ¡°Prince Terry! The stylus has chosen. Care to answer?¡±

    He felt Tania¡¯s glare and tried to slide even deeper into his chair.

    ¡°I, uh¡­not exactly sure,¡± he muttered.

    The Professor regarded him stoically, no expression of disappointment or annoyance in her face. But he could feel Tania¡¯s anger rising in the unconscious flex of her aura.

    ¡°Come on, Terry,¡± Tania said with an acid tone. ¡°Tell us.¡±

    ¡°Have you forgotten, Prince Terry? I can recall seven different instances wherein you demonstrated specific quantifiable data related to the percentages of each Awakened class.¡± A quizzical expression crossed her face. ¡°Perhaps there was damage from your repeated head injuries? I shall recommend to the Emperor that we hold off on your Awakening until we can eliminate¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± he burst out, sitting up in his desk. His eyes flicked to Tania and she regarded him expectantly. With a sigh, he answered. ¡°Three percent roughly.¡±

    The Professor waffled her head back and forth. ¡°Two point six percent, to be more exact. And for legacies?¡±

    Tania¡¯s eyes were aflame, her jaw clenching repeatedly. Damn you, Professor.

    ¡°About fifteen percent of legacies receive Traveler,¡± he replied with a sigh.

    She nodded and thankfully didn¡¯t correct his rounding up.

    ¡°Of course, our sample size is statistically insignificant, but suffice it to say, we can safely assume the odds are against you receiving Traveler. In fact, considering your father was an Infuser, the highest likelihood is that you receive Duelis¡ª¡±

    Tania stood up with a huff, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

    Terry and the Professor watched her go, him with trepidation, her with surprise.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Oh, perhaps she had an urgent bathroom need. Well, we¡¯re almost out of time, anyway. We can end today¡¯s session here. Have a pleasant Awakening, Prince Terry.¡±

    He rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment.

    ¡°Uh, thanks Professor. See you next week.¡±

    But she was already lost to the world, her eyes unfocused as she delved into her inner thoughts.

    With a sigh and a shake of his head, he left the room, half-hoping Tania had stormed off to her dorm so he didn¡¯t have to face the aftershock of the Professor¡¯s lack of tact.

    Whatever I get, please don¡¯t let it be Savant.

    As he left the room, he spotted Tania pacing back and forth a ways down the hall. He hesitated, wondering if it would be worse if he slipped away now or just listened to the tirade and got it over with.

    Or, a distraction.

    Before Tania spotted him, he spoke.

    ¡°Tonight¡¯s the night! I couldn¡¯t sleep a wink last night thinking about it.¡±

    She whirled around at his voice, a look of confusion replacing the thundercloud that was her face.

    ¡°Oh, right.¡± She hesitated. ¡°You¡¯re still doing that?¡±

    They¡¯d had this argument before and now he was second-guessing his choice of distraction. If discussion of Tania¡¯s eventual super Class was her hot button, he supposed this was his.

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re still doing that,¡± he said with a bit of exasperation. ¡°I already know you¡¯ve got nothing going on tonight, so don¡¯t try to weasel out of it.¡±

    She squinted at that. ¡°No one¡¯s weaseling outta anything. Just not sure it¡¯s a good idea¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to say you¡¯re scared¡ª¡±

    He knew he was lobbing the grenade into the foxhole with that one, but her reluctance to commit had started to wear at him.

    Her eyebrows climbed her forehead and she took a step into his space like she was gonna take a swing.

    ¡°Scared?¡± Her voice was low, promising violence.

    He poked the bear some more, affecting a casual shrug.

    ¡°Just sayin¡¯, you can keep watch or something¡ª¡±

    He very neatly dodged the arm swat that came in low, then skipped away as she half-heartedly chased him.

    ¡°When I get Traveler, you won¡¯t get away so easy anymore!¡±

    Terry scoffed. ¡°Please, Distorter hard counters Traveler. You¡¯ll basically be a normie when you come at me.¡±

    She looked off thoughtfully. ¡°Then I better get you before then!¡± She was suddenly lunging after him and he let out a little yelp as she charged.

    ¡°Oh, shit.¡±

    She chased him down the halls for a minute before her footsteps faltered and she was breathing heavy.

    Terry turned around, his lungs conditioned from his daily sessions with Whipvine. He put his hands on his hips and gave her a taunting look.

    ¡°You should really be exercising. Even if you get Traveler¡ª¡± She shot him a cold stare from where she was resting with hands on knees. He held up his hands defensively. ¡°¡ªI¡¯m just saying, regardless of what Class you get, everyone agrees that being in shape eases the process.¡±

    She waved away his comment, finally catching her breath enough to respond.

    ¡°You can only outrun me because you grew six inches over winter. Bet I¡¯m still stronger than you.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°What does strength matter if you can¡¯t catch me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she said, finally rising and walking over to him.

    He side-eyed her, on guard in case she decided for a sneak attack, but the mood had passed, a pensive look on her face now.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± he asked, sensing the shift in her aura, even as she visibly chewed the inside of her cheek.

    ¡°What if the space cadet¡¯s right?¡± she asked quietly.

    ¡°Who? The Professor?¡± She gave the slightest nod in response. He sighed, wondering how to delicately approach the tense subject. ¡°I know you want Traveler, and I know why you want Traveler. You looked up to your mom. Trust me, if anyone understands you, I do.¡±

    She shook her head, looking away as they walked. ¡°It¡¯s not just that, Ter.¡± Her voice dropped to a whisper, so soft he could barely hear her. ¡°You were right, I am scared.¡± She turned back to him, a sheen in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m so scared all the time.¡±

    He stopped and she turned to face him.

    ¡°Scared about what, Tania?¡±

    She bit her lip, looking around to make sure they were alone before closing the gap between them.

    ¡°I¡­I have nightmares. Of it.¡±

    He rocked back on his heels at the admission.

    ¡°The draugr,¡± he supplied. She nodded, looking down with embarrassment. He sighed, finally understanding what it was about her Class prospects that was bothering her. ¡°You feel like you could have escaped, saved your mom and dad, if you were a Traveler.¡±

    She whipped her head away with an angry snort. ¡°It¡¯s stupid! I know that! It didn¡¯t save my mom, but that was because she used it on me, wasted her charge. If I was a Traveler, we could have all ported away together.¡±

    ¡°But Tania, if you get Duelist, you¡¯d have stomped the draugr like Silver! A Summoner like¡­like my dad could have held it off without even lifting a finger. There¡¯re so many powerful classes out there!¡± She was looking off, not seeming convinced. He elbowed her gently, pulling her attention back. ¡°Let¡¯s just agree on one thing.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she asked hesitantly.

    ¡°Neither of us are getting Savant!¡±

    Tania snorted, and they were both laughing, more from the snort than anything else. After they both settled, she gave him a somber look.

    ¡°So, we¡¯re digging up your mom¡¯s casket tonight, huh? How you feelin¡¯ bout that?¡±

    It was his turn to look off, his thoughts conflicted.

    ¡°I¡¯m nervous. Scared.¡± He turned back to her. ¡°What if she¡¯s not there, what then?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ve seen Art¡¯s footage, she probably isn¡¯t there. You know that.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­I think that¡¯s even scarier.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked, her brow knitting in confusion.

    He sighed. ¡°Because it means she¡¯s still out there¡­and she¡¯s choosing not to come back for me.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that¡­¡±

    He cast her a dubious look and she bit her lip. He could see the doubt in her own thoughts.

    ¡°If your mother had got separated from you during the draugr attack, is there any world where she didn¡¯t move heaven and earth to get back to you? Six months, Tania. Six months.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡­would almost be easier if she were in that casket tonight.¡±

    They stood there in silence for a minute, both lost in their thoughts. Then, Tania lightly smacked his arm.

    ¡°Come on, we¡¯re so lame with our feelings and junk. Let¡¯s go find Crunch and get some dinner. I¡¯m starving.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, okay.¡±

    <hr>

    Later that evening, well after midnight, Terry opened the door of his bedroom to see Crunch standing casually in the hallway, his single eye scanning diligently.

    ¡°Find any bad guys?¡± Terry asked with a smile.

    ¡°Nothing. Only shadows,¡± Crunch replied, his tone deadly serious. But there was a flare in the aura, a shape to it that Terry could finally read after months of agonizingly slow progress, almost like an inflection in the voice¡ªa ghoulish joke.

    ¡°Funny guy,¡± Terry replied, lightly punching Crunch¡¯s arm. ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of shadows.¡± Anymore, he didn¡¯t say. His run in with Tenebrous had left its scars, but Mesmer had helped him through that with some light hypnosis and had even led him down into the dungeons to look in on where Tenebrous was being held. Seeing a famous super, one he had looked up to just as much as Savage or Sol, sitting morosely on his cot, his beard long and tangled, his clothes hanging on a thin frame¡­to be honest, it had been depressing and humbling.

    And a bit cathartic.

    No, he wasn¡¯t afraid of shadows anymore, but he had come across a draugr down in the Catacombs last month. Now that had nearly sent him into a panic. But the draugr hadn¡¯t flared its aura, hadn¡¯t even acknowledged Terry¡¯s presence. He had been surrounded by nearly the entire court of the Emperor as they did a tour of the Catacombs, including his grandfather himself, so there had been nothing to fear.

    Yet, his vision had tunneled in, his heart trying to leap out of his chest. Only Crunch¡¯s steadying presence and Whipvine¡¯s powerful grip on his shoulder had got him through that encounter.

    One day, draugr¡¯s will fear me, not the other way around.

    The two of them walked in companionable silence while Terry worked on some minor aura control exercises Crunch had taught him. Aura responded naturally to emotions and thoughts, but that was raw, unfocused aura. Communicating like the undead and some supers were able to required fine control, like flaring a pinky finger as you kept the other fingers still.

    Except way harder, because it wasn¡¯t a muscle, but more like an internal force you had to tame and corral into shape.

    It only took them fifteen minutes to reach Tania¡¯s dorm and she was already waiting outside. Terry waved and she greeted the two of them in a whisper, not wanting to wake any of the servants she lived with.

    Once they were down the hall from her dorms, Terry bumped her with his backpack.

    ¡°Anyone spot you?¡±

    She bumped him back harder.

    ¡°Course not. I can be stealthy when I need to be.¡±

    He snorted. ¡°Riiiight.¡±

    ¡°I can be!¡± she said, her voice rising in volume.

    He stopped, regarding her with raised eyebrows. She at least had the grace to look abashed.

    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± she said much quieter. ¡°No one saw me.¡±

    Crunch led them in silence to the carport rather than the palace entrance. This was a clandestine mission and even at this hour, there would have to pass a dozen people if they went that way. But as they approached the rear of the palace where the garage was, they only passed ghouls who operated on a strict hierarchy. None they passed were of a status to question Crunch.

    As they entered the carport, a sedan was parked near the door, its engine idling. Crunch slipped into the front seat without a word, leaving Tania and Terry to slide into the back.

    Dalton sat in the driver seat, shifting to look back at them. ¡°Evening, Terry.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Dalton. Thanks for doing this.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it, anything for you, kid.¡± He turned to Tania. ¡°Evening, dear.¡±

    Tania leaned forward to give Dalton a quick hug.

    ¡°Alright, Dalton?¡±

    ¡°Peachy, hon, peachy.¡± He turned back, putting the car into gear. ¡°Buckle up, kids. Crunch¡­you can do whatever you want.¡±

    The car took off, meandering through the garage and up the ramp through the back entrance. Six ghouls stopped them at a checkpoint, but Crunch flared his aura and they were let right through.

    ¡°You have his address?¡± Terry asked Dalton.

    ¡°Got it right here,¡± he said, tapping his temple.

    ¡°Address?¡± Tania asked, narrowing her eyes. ¡°Arthur gave you his address?¡±

    ¡°No, Jimmy. We¡¯re grabbing him first.¡±

    ¡°What? Jimmy? Why?¡±

    ¡°I told you this,¡± Terry said, his tone exasperated. ¡°Jimmy¡¯s coming. And I already explained why.¡±

    ¡°You did not tell me this.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I did. I said, ¡®we should invite Jimmy¡¯ and you rolled your eyes and said, ¡®he¡¯s like twenty, that¡¯s weird¡¯ and I said ¡®he¡¯s my friend¡¯ and you changed the subject.¡± He waved his hand to indicate the car. ¡°And here we are.¡±

    She crinkled her nose. ¡°It¡¯s weird for fourteen-year-olds to be hanging out with a twenty-year-old.¡±

    ¡°Dalton¡¯s like forty¡ªno offense, Dalton.¡±

    ¡°None taken, Terry. Though, I tend to agree with the lady, the more people that know about this, the more likely we get found out.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Terry replied dismissively. ¡°Jimmy knows the deal. He¡¯s cool.¡±

    As they pulled up outside Jimmy¡¯s house though, they realized immediately, it was not fine.

 Chapter 23: Exhumation

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 55:8:12 20:15 local time)

    Nick Halleck (Whipvine)

    Summary

    Nick Halleck (chosen super moniker: Whipvine), is an A-ranked Duelist (confirmed) known for his namesake dual whips. Recovered records show that Whipvine served in the (United States (former)) Marines during (World War II). Like most pre-Splintering records, these records are incomplete. His age is unknown, but correlating his service with his partial records would indicate that he was at least 60 years of age when he received (The Call) and joined the super community as an (Original), marking him as one of the oldest humans to be given the opportunity. His current age would be in excess of 100, though he was turned into a revenant by (Emperor Necroton) sometime around Year 25.

    Though Whipvine is an A-ranked super, he has demonstrated power that would indicate he resides at the top of the A-rank (needs citation). His latest feat in the (Wichita-Topeka Conflict) gave clear evidence that his speed and power are approaching that of documented S-ranked Duelists.

    Powerset

    Whipvine possesses two matching whips that are assumed to be System rewards for his (Midmark Quest). He has used these System weapons to devastating effect in multiple instances, including the (Swarm Surge of 32), the defeat of (Mechlord), and most recently, the (Wichita-Topeka Conflict).

    His strength is unknown, but recent Artificer videos place his speed at least at the upper echelon of the A-ranks, if not within the S-ranks (needs citation). In his battle with (The Scourge) of the (Knights of Sol), Whipvine demonstrated the ability to utilize his whips to generate enough force to maintain elevation during travel (see: (Power-Based Unconventional Flight)).

    It is strongly suspected that Whipvine is a single-Class super, remaining a Duelist since his Awakening (needs citation).

    + Duelist (F to C) ¡ª Unconfirmed

    (click to expand)

    + Duelist (C to A)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    He has served as a revenant for (Emperor Necroton) for the past 30 years. His loyalties before that period are unclear.

    Personal Life

    (no data)

    Notable Exploits

    (Contributions in the Swarm Surge of 32)

    (click to expand)

    (Contributions in the Defeat of Mechlord)

    (click to expand)

    (Contributions in the Wichita-Topeka Conflict)

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    ¡°Jimmy, what the hell!¡± Terry complained, his head stuck out the rolled down window.

    The older boy cringed, subtly taking a step away from Liam, who looked just as embarrassed but for different reasons.

    Tania leaned across Terry, forcibly shoving his head out of the way to take his spot.

    ¡°What¡¯s he doing here?¡± she asked, indicating Liam with a nod. The older boy scowled at her but had the good sense not to fire back.

    Tania¡¯s elbow was digging into Terry, so he slid to the other side and opened her door, coming around the car to face the two older boys.

    ¡°Can I talk to you?¡± Terry asked Jimmy. ¡°Alone?¡±

    Jimmy nodded and they walked a few feet off.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Jimmy started. ¡°I just wanted someone to know what I was doing, in case¡­¡±

    ¡°In case what, dude? Did you think Crunch was gonna eat you or something?¡±

    ¡°No, of course not. It¡¯s just¡­I¡¯ve heard some stories about people going missing and the thought of my parents having no idea what happened to me¡ªI couldn¡¯t sleep thinking about that.¡±

    Terry sighed. Jimmy wasn¡¯t completely off base with his fears, though he had to know he was safe with Crunch here.

    ¡°The sanguine aren¡¯t kidnapping people off the streets, Jimmy. That¡¯s just alarmist propaganda.¡±

    ¡°But there are vampires running around Wichita!¡± He said it like he¡¯d caught Terry in a lie.

    He waffled his head back and forth. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say running around¡­¡± Jimmy¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Okay, yes, there are vampires visiting from the Underworld.¡± He held up his finger. ¡°But they are not draining random citizens for food. Their presence is part of the bargain my grandfather made in exchange for the working that stopped Sol. But they¡¯re more like ambassadors, not food tourists.¡± He brought the discussion back on topic. ¡°And none of that explains why Liam is here. You should have left him at home.¡±

    Now, Jimmy did look embarrassed.

    ¡°Okay, yeah, that¡¯s my fault. After I told him what we were doing, he insisted on coming.¡±

    ¡°Look at that car, Jimmy,¡± Terry said with a wave. ¡°That seats five. You know what, okay, I¡¯ll talk to him.¡±

    Terry walked over to Liam, who was standing alone with his arms crossed, his shoulders hunched in tight.

    ¡°Hey, Liam,¡± he said as companionably as he could muster. The boy relaxed, his hardened expression turning embarrassed in an instant.

    ¡°Terry, I mean, Prince Terry, I¡¯m really sorry. I wasn¡¯t thinking, I just thought¡­¡± he trailed off, his lower lip trembling with obvious adrenaline. ¡°I just wanted to be included,¡± he finally said, his voice cast low so Tania wouldn¡¯t hear him from where she was perched out of the car window.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    A pang hit Terry and he sighed. Liam was more Jimmy¡¯s friend than Terry¡¯s, which was why he hadn¡¯t been included before¡ªTerry wasn¡¯t really sure if he could trust the older boy. But the thought of excluding him now felt cruel, made him feel like a bully.

    ¡°I get it, Liam. But the car only fits five. So unless you want to ride in the trunk¡­¡±

    His face dropped, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

    ¡°Oh¡­yeah, that makes sense. Okay, sorry to make a fuss.¡±

    Man, this guy better not be pulling out the puppy dog eyes on purpose, because if I find out he¡¯s playing me¡­

    ¡°Hold on,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°Let me talk to Crunch.¡±

    The older boy¡¯s head shot up, his eyes hopeful.

    Terry jogged over to the car and leaned in through Dalton¡¯s window.

    ¡°Crunch, would you be willing to ride the roof?¡±

    ¡°Terry!¡± Tania exclaimed. ¡°Are you for real right now?¡±

    He ignored her, waiting for Crunch to respond. He shaped his aura, filtering the thought through into a shape that he knew resembled the form earnest request. Crunch didn¡¯t speak, but his own aura projected out, an inquisitive thread that asked a question, something akin to: are you sure?

    Releasing his other shape, he fought to mold the aura into the affirmative feeling, but there was too much nuance, beyond his ability to craft quickly.

    He let it go with a frustrated noise and spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Crunch nodded, then stepped out of the car.

    Terry turned back and walked over to where Jimmy had joined Liam.

    ¡°You can come¡ª¡± A pure smile spread across the older boy¡¯s face, his eyes lighting up. Terry held out his hand. ¡°¡ªon some conditions.¡±

    ¡°Anything¡ª¡± He cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. ¡°Ahem, yes, my prince. Whatever you need.¡±

    Terry ticked up one finger.

    ¡°First, you are not to speak about this little excursion to anyone. Not your mom, not your therapist. Not even your dog. Good?¡±

    Liam nodded excitedly.

    ¡°Two,¡± he said, ticking up another finger. ¡°Crunch is in charge. If he tells you to do something or I tell you to do something through him, you don¡¯t argue, you just act.¡±

    Liam¡¯s eyes widened at that, casting a furtive glance over to where Crunch was climbing onto the car roof. After a quick second of hesitation, he nodded again.

    ¡°And three¡­¡± Terry let a friendly smile touch his lips. ¡°If you wanted to be included, you shoulda asked. No more strong-arming your friend, okay?¡±

    The older boy bit his lip at that, glancing at Jimmy with an embarrassed look.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, turning to Jimmy. ¡°Hey¡­I¡¯m sorry I put you in that spot. Cool?¡± He held out his hand in a conciliatory gesture.

    Jimmy didn¡¯t hesitate, shaking his hand and pulling his friend into a hug.

    ¡°Cool.¡±

    From the car, Tania groaned.

    ¡°Emperor¡¯s balls, are you two done broing out? We¡¯ve got things to do.¡±

    The two friends separated, Jimmy chuckling while Liam leaned in close to Terry.

    ¡°Does she ever chill out, or is she gonna be busting my balls the whole night?¡±

    Terry looked at Tania with a wry smile before turning back to Liam.

    ¡°She¡¯s an acquired taste, I¡¯ll give ya that. And yes, expect this for pretty much the rest of the evening¡­¡± He looked off in thought. ¡°And probably for a couple more weeks, if we¡¯re being honest with each other.¡±

    Liam groaned and Jimmy slapped him on the back before heading toward the car.

    ¡°Shotgun,¡± Jimmy called out and now it was Terry¡¯s turn to groan.

    ¡°I¡¯m your prince!¡± he joked. ¡°I should get shotgun by default!¡±

    Jimmy looked back with a wry smile. ¡°Sorry, my prince, but shotgun rules are sacred.¡±

    Terry stared after the older boy with narrowed eyes. ¡°I¡¯m gonna remember this, Jimmy.¡±

    He approached the back seat where Tania had slid over to the far side. Liam was lingering at the door, obviously expecting Terry to sit in the center seat.

    ¡°Sorry, I-uh, I get carsick if I¡¯m not at the window,¡± Liam said with an embarrassed flush.

    Terry looked up with a sigh.

    ¡°Of course you do¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Terry¡¯s anxiety didn¡¯t really hit him until the car¡¯s headlights illuminated the cemetery gates. He realized after the fact that he¡¯d been filling the silence with jokes and chatter to keep from thinking too hard about what they were on their way to do.

    But now¡­there was no sidestepping reality; they were here to dig up his mom¡¯s grave.

    He still didn¡¯t know what he expected, what he was hoping for. Arthur had shown him multiple feeds from different angles, but they had never been able to answer that question: what had happened to his mom?

    They had watched Sol taken prisoner by the Emperor, watched as the Siren¡¯s body was carted away indecorously, even watched as James raced into the nearby woods in an obvious attempt to track down his mom¡ªonly to return empty handed ten minutes later.

    Which was to say, he expected the casket to be empty. Expected to dig up his mother¡¯s grave and find bare wood and soil. Perhaps there would be a corpse in there or a ghoul shaped to look like his mother, but not her, not the White Rose.

    Meaning she was either alive¡­or dead in some dungeon in Topeka or elsewhere, forgotten or abandoned by her captors in the wake of the war between the two cities.

    He¡¯d come to terms with that, worked through the grief in either case.

    She¡¯s either dead or left me alone on purpose. Either way, she¡¯s gone¡­just as his father had said all those months ago.

    He pushed that reality away, returning to the moment as Dalton shut the car off. Tania cracked the door and slid out, Terry quickly following behind her. Crunch slithered off the roof without a sound, while the trunk popped with a click.

    Arthur peeled away from behind a nearby tree, startling Liam who hadn¡¯t expected the mousy man.

    ¡°Whoa, hey, there¡¯s someone there!¡± he practically shouted, pointing at Arthur as he angled for safety behind the car.

    ¡°Shhh, keep your voice down,¡± Terry hissed. ¡°We know!¡± He waved toward Arthur, who eyed Liam with skepticism behind his thick glasses. ¡°Hey, Art, thanks for meeting us.¡±

    ¡°You brought him?¡± the man asked, ignoring Terry¡¯s greeting¡ªthough he knew it wasn¡¯t that Arthur was trying to be rude; he just wasn¡¯t very good with people.

    Terry flushed, casting an embarrassed look at Liam.

    ¡°He¡­kinda invited himself.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Liam said, recovering from his fear with an accusatory glare. ¡°You know me?¡±

    Arthur didn¡¯t even acknowledge the boy, but immediately started listing details of his life.

    ¡°Liam Webber. Age: 20. Mother: Maria. Father: Daniel. Licensed paramedic. Favorite musical genre: reggae. Most visited website¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tha-that¡¯s good! Okay, yep, got it,¡± Liam blurted out in a panic.

    Tania snorted, reaching into the trunk and pulling out a shovel. With a bit of force, she shoved it into Liam¡¯s hands.

    ¡°One guess what website that was,¡± she said with an evil grin as Liam looked with confusion at the shovel in his hands.

    ¡°What¡¯s this f¡ªoh, are you serious? I¡¯m on digging duty!¡±

    Terry turned toward the boy and raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°When you invite yourself to the secret grave digging meeting¡­yeah, you¡¯re on digging duty.¡±

    He looked up for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Yeah, I guess that¡¯s fair.¡±

    Terry nodded and pulled out the second shovel, turning in a circle as he raised it high.

    ¡°And guess who gets the honor of joining Liam?¡± he asked the group with a smug smile, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

    ¡°God dammit¡­¡± Jimmy muttered.

    Terry handed it over with a wink. ¡°Hey, at least you got to sit shotgun.¡±

    <hr>

    It took the two older boys a couple hours of hard work, even with Terry spelling them occasionally, to dig the six feet of packed soil away. Crunch perhaps could have done it faster, even with one arm, but the ghoul was on high alert, ranging around the cemetery as if he expected someone to be lurking around, waiting to attack.

    With each pile of dirt cast out of the grave, Terry¡¯s anxiety grew sharper. He¡¯d eventually found himself taking digging shifts just to distract his mind with the painful burn of tired muscles and fresh blisters. But as the hole grew deeper, there was no avoiding the fact that he was about to see for himself the truth of the situation.

    His back was soaked with sweat, his palms starting to bleed, when Liam¡¯s shovel cracked against solid wood. The two of them stopped, sharing a shocked look before Liam smiled.

    ¡°Finally!¡± he exclaimed, turning back to dig out the rest of the dirt even faster.

    Terry, on the other hand, found his limbs full of lead.

    Was it too late to back out? He¡¯d wasted everyone¡¯s time, sure. But they¡¯d understand if he got cold feet at the eleventh hour¡­right?

    No, don¡¯t be ridiculous. You¡¯re here and she¡¯s right there. Or not, whatever the case is. Just do it, coward.

    He willed his arms to move, directing the shovel to shift the soil away, his heart pounding so hard he thought he¡¯d faint.

    ¡°I think we can get it open,¡± Liam said, throwing his shovel out of the hole. ¡°You lever the shovel into the gap and I¡¯ll pull here.¡±

    Terry mechanically obeyed, the adrenaline making his fingers clumsy as he shifted the sharp edge of the shovel into the seam. Leaning back on it, he felt the wood beginning to give, creaking in protest as Liam tried to slide his fingers in the gap.

    With a snap, a piece of the wood broke, dislodging the shovel without opening the casket. Liam fell back in surprise, then hopped back to his feet.

    ¡°Can you ask the ghoul? He can rip it open in a second, right?¡±

    Terry nodded, his mind feeling distant from his body. Of course Crunch could open this with ease. I should have thought about that.

    ¡°Crunch?¡± he called up. ¡°Can you lend us a hand?¡±

    At the top of the grave, Tania, Dalton, Jimmy, and Arthur were watching them work. Dalton had begged off the digging, citing a bad back from years of driving with poor posture. Arthur wasn¡¯t a physical person, weighing almost less than Tania. And Tania hadn¡¯t even fielded the suggestion that she help and not even Terry had felt like fighting that battle.

    The four of them parted as Crunch came into sight and leaped down without a word. Terry and Liam climbed out to give him room to work, receiving helping hands from Jimmy as they did so.

    Crunch leaned over the casket, his finger-blades extending out and digging under the edge of the lid. With a snap, the whole thing popped open and the ghoul stepped back.

    Terry craned his neck to stare down, his mouth slack with shock.

    ¡°Is that a¡­?¡± Tania started.

    ¡°Yeah, but what¡¯s it doing there?¡± Jimmy asked.

    ¡°Is it magical or¡­?¡± Liam looked to Terry in question.

    He just shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡±

    Resting there on a velvet pillow, covered in soil, but still as fresh as if it had just been plucked, lay a pristine white rose.

    There was no body to be found.

    ¡°Who do you think put it there?¡± Liam asked.

    ¡°Your dad, maybe?¡± Jimmy suggested.

    ¡°What if¡ª¡±

    Tania cut across the two boys with a growl. ¡°Will you two shut up and let him process things for two seconds? Emperor save me.¡±

    They cringed at the rebuke, turning to regard Terry like he was some delicate piece of porcelain teetering on the edge of a table, about to fall.

    He waved away their concern, but was distracted all the same.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­I just¡­Crunch, can you bring it up?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t tell from this height if it was really one of his mother¡¯s or just a simple white rose. Crunch reached down and delicately retrieved the rose. With a flex of his legs, his leap took him out of the grave and he landed beside Terry. Slowly, he held it out for Terry to grab.

    His hand reached, but paused right before he made contact.

    It is one of hers, he realized. There was an aura to the rose that was unmissable this close up. It had her touch to it, almost like a scent but for his aura sense.

    He thread his fingers past the thorns, taking it from Crunch¡¯s hand.

    ¡°It¡¯s one of hers,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°What does that mean¡ª¡±

    A harsh voice barked out, cutting through the air, causing all of them to cry out in surprise.

    ¡°WHAT IN THE UNDERWORLD IS GOING ON HERE!¡±

 Chapter 24: A Black-Hearted Baby Killer

    Terry whipped around, the rose in his hand forgotten as he faced the person who had sneaked up on them. He didn¡¯t know who he had expected¡ªmaybe the Emperor¡ªbut for once, he wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled to see his old friend.

    Whipvine¡¯s scars danced as he scowled, the yellow magic flaring in his eyes as he slowly raked his gaze across them.

    ¡°I asked you a question,¡± he snarled. The words cut at them, deepening the silence.

    Terry stepped forward to explain, but Crunch held him back with a hand.

    Whipvine¡¯s gaze snapped to the ghoul in surprise.

    ¡°You, too, Crunch? I would think you would know better than to sneak the prince out of the palace.¡±

    ¡°Necessary,¡± the ghoul replied. ¡°For prince.¡±

    Whipvine scowled, pinning each of them in place with his gaze before locking back on Crunch.

    ¡°And what if it had been Fletcher that found you instead of me?¡± he asked quietly, his tone full of hidden meaning.

    Crunch¡¯s teeth gnashed thoughtfully, then he nodded.

    ¡°Crunch dead then.¡±

    Terry spun on him in surprise.

    ¡°Wait, what!¡±

    Whipvine sighed, the coiled energy sapping out of him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain on the way back.¡± He eyed the rose in Terry¡¯s hand. ¡°Guessin¡¯ you got what you came for.¡±

    Terry glanced down at the white rose, held forgotten between his two fingers. Looking back at Whipvine, he nodded.

    ¡°Right, then. In the car, Terry.¡± He waved a hand. ¡°You, too, Tania. And you¡­¡± He regarded Arthur with nose furled like he¡¯d caught a bad smell. ¡°Don¡¯t know you.¡±

    Terry interceded, the super¡¯s tone worrying him.

    ¡°He¡¯s a friend! He¡¯s been helping me work through things¡­with my mom.¡±

    Whipvine indicated the open grave with a scoff.

    ¡°Yeah, can see that.¡± The yellow danced in his eyes as he regarded Arthur for another moment. Arthur withered under his stare, his thick glasses pointed at the ground. Whipvine sniffed dismissively, then spoke. ¡°Got a car?¡±

    Arthur looked up in surprise, then nodded. ¡°Ye-yes.¡±

    ¡°Good. You and these boys put this grave back in place.¡± His hand trailed down to a whip, the threat electrifying the air between them all. ¡°Don¡¯t want even a piece of grass outta place when I come back. Clear?¡±

    Arthur nodded quickly and Whipvine turned his gaze on Liam and Jimmy. Both boys fell over themselves in agreement, each rushing to grab a shovel.

    Whipvine seemed satisfied by their response, turning finally to their driver.

    ¡°Dalton,¡± he said simply.

    ¡°Yes, Whipvine, sir,¡± the driver answered, his tone nervous though his posture remained dignified.

    ¡°Pull the car around.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    No one said a word as Jimmy and Liam shoveled dirt back into the grave while Tania and Terry shifted uncomfortably beside Whipvine. When Dalton flashed the high beams on the car, they set off after Whipvine.

    The A-ranker sat in the front seat¡ªwithout calling shotgun¡ªwhile Terry and Tania slid into the back. Crunch clambered onto the roof and Dalton set off a moment later.

    The air inside the car was charged. Tania and Terry kept glancing at each other, both afraid to break the silence. After a minute that felt more like ten, Whipvine turned to face them. Both kids froze under his disappointed gaze.

    ¡°Well?¡± he asked quietly, his eyes locked on Terry. ¡°What in the Underworld were you thinking?¡±

    Terry bit his lip, his palms slicking against his jeans, his heart trying to pound its way through his neck. He tried to make his thoughts translate into words, but it was like trying to cup water with an open palm. To his surprise, Tania spoke first.

    ¡°We were thinking that there¡¯s still so damn much we don¡¯t know about his mom! So much you and the others are¡ª¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you!¡± Whipvine barked, causing the girl to flinch. ¡°When I talk to you, you¡¯ll know it! Until then, stay quiet!¡±

    Tania glared at the man, a shine forming in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, obviously trying to keep the tears down, though her face made it clear they were angry tears.

    Whipvine seemed not to care, watching her a moment longer before turning to Terry. His voice was quieter, but still edged.

    ¡°Well? Do you understand how stupid that was? How risky?¡±

    Terry did cry, unable to keep the tears from slipping down his cheeks. But he was proud that his voice remained steady as he answered.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Then why? Why sneak out of the palace like that?¡±

    He looked out the window, unable to keep his friend¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°Because I had to know,¡± he whispered. His eyes flicked back. ¡°I had to know, Whip. No one will tell me anything, answer any questions. And the things I¡¯ve seen¡­maybe you don¡¯t even know.¡±

    Whipvine sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. His voice lost its edge, a friend now, more than a disappointed guardian.

    ¡°I know¡­I know it must have been hard for you, not getting the answers you need¡ª¡±

    ¡°Agonizing, Whip.¡±

    ¡°I get it, son. I really do¡­but you could have come to me¡ª¡±

    Terry¡¯s head whipped around, a new fire in his eyes.

    ¡°Could I? Could I really?¡±

    The unspoken words hung heavy between them. Could I really come to the Emperor¡¯s revenant¡­about this?

    Whipvine looked off, clearly uncomfortable. After a moment, he turned back.

    ¡°Okay, I admit you¡¯re right. But Terry, do you understand what would have happened if Fletcher was the one out on patrol tonight?¡±

    Terry hadn¡¯t understood earlier. Crunch had said he¡¯d be dead, but why? Whipvine¡¯s eyes were sharp, boring into him.

    What did he mean? Why would Crunch be dead if War Crimes had found them? Because he¡¯d report them to the Emperor? Unless, he had meant something else¡­

    ¡°You can¡¯t mean¡ª¡± He cut off as Whipvine confirmed his line of thought with a nod. Terry¡¯s mouth gaped in horror. ¡°War Crimes would have killed Crunch for failing his duties, wouldn¡¯t he?¡±

    Whipvine was shaking his head, the yellow magic spiking in his eyes.

    ¡°No, Terry. He would have killed all of them.¡± He indicated Tania with a head nod. ¡°Her, too.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Tania¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°Wh-what? Why?¡±

    ¡°Cause he¡¯s a black-hearted baby killer, Tania. And finding the lot of you out of the palace when Terry¡¯s not allowed out woulda given him the loophole he needed, spin it like y¡¯all were kidnapping him.¡± He scowled, the light playing against his scars. ¡°He ain¡¯t like me or Mes. He loathes the Emperor, Wichita, and most of all, he loathed your mom. Hurting you by killing your friends would be his way of sticking it to her¡­even in death.¡±

    I almost got them all killed. Then he processed those last words.

    ¡°Even in death? But that¡¯s just it, Whip, she might not be dead!¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s face dropped, a frown turning his lips down.

    ¡°What are you saying, son?¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes lit up as he realized Whipvine didn¡¯t know nearly as much as he had thought the revenant would.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the videos! She runs off after the fight. I don¡¯t know why, but she does. And she wasn¡¯t in the coffin and when I stood over her at the viewing, I accidentally smeared some make up and underneath was this red skin and my dad was acting weird when¡ª¡±

    ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°What do you mean she wasn¡¯t in the coffin?¡±

    <hr>

    After Terry and Tania explained everything¡ªArthur¡¯s videos, the strange body at the viewing, the way James had killed the Siren and Terry¡¯s mother had run away¡ªWhipvine had sat back in his chair for a moment, silent as he considered it all.

    Terry and Tania exchanged apprehensive looks while they waited for the old super to process, and Dalton very carefully kept his eyes forward as they drove. When Whipvine did turn around, he had a thoughtful look on his face.

    ¡°You considered that feeds can be doctored? This Arthur guy¡¯s definitely a supe from what you told me. Probably an Artificer or an Alterant. With the right powerset, it¡¯d be trivial.¡±

    Terry shared a look with Tania before nodding. ¡°We considered it. That¡¯s why we wanted to dig up her grave. If she had been there¡­¡± He trailed off with a shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But if anything, this confirms what he showed us.¡±

    Whipvine sniffed, tilting his head in thought. ¡°Maybe, or maybe he changed it just enough to show you what he wanted you to see, without changing the broad strokes. Won¡¯t know unless we could get those vids to the Professor.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°No, Whip, please! If you tell the Professor, she¡¯ll definitely tell grandfather.¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°What makes you think I won¡¯t?¡±

    Terry bit his lip, his stomach flipping. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Because I¡¯m asking you not to?¡±

    The older supe turned around, staring out the front windshield for a moment. Terry felt like they were dangling over the precipice of a cliff, Whipvine¡¯s next words either pulling them back from the brink¡­or shoving them over.

    Whipvine turned back around, a scowl on his face.

    ¡°Not feeling a compulsion to say anything¡ª¡± Terry¡¯s face lit up, casting Tania a hopeful look. Whipvine held up a stern finger. ¡°¡ªain¡¯t gonna lie bout nothing either. If the Emperor asks, I¡¯m obligated to tell him¡ªand I will tell him everything.¡±

    If the Emperor asks¡­

    ¡°So we just don¡¯t give him a reason to, right?¡± Tania suggested. ¡°Just play this off like nothing happened and¡­¡± She trailed off as Whipvine shook his head.

    ¡°Can¡¯t play nothing off,¡± he replied. ¡°I am compelled to inform him of this little excursion. But if I keep the details scarce, he probably won¡¯t probe.¡± A twisted smile touched his lips. ¡°It¡¯s my duty to inform the Emperor that the prince and his girlfriend went out for a little nighttime stroll¡ª¡±

    Tania and Terry protested at the same time.

    ¡°She¡¯s not my girlfriend!¡±

    ¡°Oh, hell no!¡±

    Whipvine cut across their words with a swipe of his hand.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say anything more! As far as I¡¯m aware¡ªand as far as the Emperor needs to know¡ªyou two are lovebirds bucking against the restrictions of the palace. Clear?¡± His eyes bore into them, flecks of yellow magic flaring with the intensity of his gaze.

    Terry sighed, while Tania scowled.

    ¡°Clear,¡± they both replied.

    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll suggest that your looming Awakening was a factor and that¡¯ll be that.¡± He pursed his lips, the scars twisting. ¡°Speaking of, how you feeling?¡±

    ¡°About my Awakening? Little nervous, to be honest.¡±

    Whipvine shifted his head. ¡°That, too. But I meant more about your father visiting. Know you two been having some issues.¡±

    Terry tensed, his body going cold.

    ¡°Ooo,¡± Tania said, shifting back into her seat. ¡°We don¡¯t talk about his dad.¡±

    Terry ignored her, keeping his eyes on Whipvine.

    ¡°I have no thoughts on that man,¡± he replied, his tone icy. ¡°He knew about mom this whole time and let me think she was dead. As far as I¡¯m concerned, I have no father.¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s eyes searched his face, no doubt looking for some chip in his armor, a flicker of doubt or false bravado flashing past a facade. But there was no facade¡ªTerry hadn¡¯t seen his father this whole time except for twice on wraith-glass. The man was just another of the Emperor¡¯s servants to the boy and that was that.

    ¡°I see,¡± Whipvine eventually replied.

    ¡°You¡¯re not gonna tell me to cut him some slack, are you?¡± Terry¡¯s tone was full of acid. Mesmer had tried to mediate their relationship a few times and it had only created a distance between the two of them. If Whipvine tried the same, he didn¡¯t know how he¡¯d react.

    ¡°No, son. I¡­no. Prince James has grieved your mother¡¯s¡ª¡± He hesitated, clearly about to say ¡®death¡¯. ¡°¡ªyour mother¡¯s loss in his own way. But that doesn¡¯t excuse how he¡¯s treated you. As much as I admire him as a man and a soldier, being a good father takes a different sort of substance. He¡¯s¡­still working on that, I reckon.¡±

    Terry leaned back in his seat, looking out the car window as he thought on those words. Whipvine thankfully didn¡¯t press the issue and they traveled the rest of the way in silence, pulling into the garage where Dalton deposited the four of them.

    After Dalton drove off, Whipvine turned to Crunch.

    ¡°See the young lady back to her room, will you?¡± he asked the ghoul. ¡°I¡¯ll escort the prince.¡±

    Terry nodded good night to Tania, following Whipvine through the palace back to his room. When he entered, he turned to close the door, but the old supe was blocking the way.

    ¡°Listen, son. I¡­¡± Whipvine looked to the side, biting his lip in a rare show of discomfort. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened to the Rose. Maybe she is out there still¡­or maybe not.¡± Terry shifted at that. Whipvine¡¯s eyes cut back to him, a passion emphasized by the yellow flecks shifting in his pupils and the aura flaring to Terry¡¯s senses. ¡°But whatever happened, dead or missing or¡­just gone, know one thing: you are loved¡ª¡± His voice hitched and Terry¡¯s mind short circuited at his friend¡¯s open show of emotion. Whipvine cleared his throat. ¡°You are loved¡ª¡±

    Terry cut him off, throwing himself into the man¡¯s surprised arms. Whipvine returned the hug, wrapping his arms around the boy.

    ¡°I know, Whip,¡± he whispered. ¡°I know.¡±

    The older supe cleared his throat again, then separated from Terry. He held the boy by his shoulders, looking into his eyes.

    ¡°Get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life. Tomorrow, you become Awakened.¡±

    That filled Terry with excitement and he knew right then and there that sleep was out of the question. But he nodded, and Whipvine let his arms fall.

    ¡°Alright, Whip. Good night.¡±

    ¡°Night, son.¡±

    After Whipvine left, Terry threw himself onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Hearing those words from his friend had filled him with joy for a moment, but it wasn¡¯t enough to cut through the pain of his father¡¯s casual indifference or the mystery surrounding his mother.

    His thoughts churned all night and when the morning bells tolled, the excitement of the day had been dulled by hours of second guessing and the aching pain of the unknown.

    The only thing that had got him through it, was the white rose clutched between his fingers.

    Now, that white rose was zipped up in the breast pocket of his jacket, its thorns digging into his chest through the fabric. But the pain comforted him, reminding him of its presence as he marched for the throne room with Whipvine and Crunch at his side. He wanted it with him when he Awakened, a totem of remembrance, as well as an indicator of which class he hoped for. It would probably make no difference, but he kept it there all the same.

    ¡°Your father arrived only thirty minutes ago,¡± Whipvine was saying at his side. ¡°And the others are gathering now to wish you luck.¡±

    By others, he knew the supe meant the other revenants, distant relatives, and high-ranking undead. Thankfully, Savage had been sent north to cover for Terry¡¯s father and he wouldn¡¯t have to suffer the former Knight¡¯s presence. Despite the distance that loomed between him and his father, Savage was worse by a mile.

    When the throne room doors opened, Terry felt his willful defiance wither on the vine under the assembled group. Mesmer, the Professor, War Crimes, the Iron Maiden, and two of the three ghoul elders all stood behind the throne, arrayed facing the door. The Emperor himself was seated in the throne itself in casual wear, lacking his bone mask or scythe. Seeing his grandfather plain-clothed unnerved him¡ªfor some reason, he preferred the man in superhero regalia. Maybe it helped foster the idea in Terry¡¯s head that the Emperor was more vengeful demon than actual flesh and blood.

    But even his grandfather¡¯s piercing green eyes weren¡¯t what froze him at the door.

    Kneeling on the stone floor in the center of the room facing the Emperor, was Terry¡¯s father. He was wearing his superhero attire, bone-lined leather clacking together as he shifted to face his son. A bone mask hid his face, but not his eyes. Those eyes turned to him, lingered for a half-second, then shifted away. Whatever Terry had expected, his father could barely acknowledge his presence.

    Feeling the heat rise to his face, he strode forward, fighting past the pain and embarrassment. It was only in this moment that he realized he had been willing to begin forgiving his father. If the man had rushed toward him and embraced, or said his name in a certain way, he would have let his flinty facade crumble just to feel his father¡¯s powerful arms around him once more.

    Instead, the man acted like he didn¡¯t even know his son had just entered the room.

    He leashed his aura, didn¡¯t let any of those feelings slip through, as he stepped next to his father and knelt to the Emperor. Whipvine strode past quickly and ascended the steps to stand beside his fellow revenants. Crunch remained behind at the door, bowed at the waist.

    ¡°Grandson, the time has come for you to Awaken. Are you prepared?¡±

    Terry took a moment to compose himself physically and ensure his hold on his aura was tight before he answered. ¡°I am, my Emperor.¡±

    ¡°And you, Commander? Are you prepared to guide your son, my grandson, as he Awakens, for the good of the Fairways and the Wichita-Topeka Protectorate?¡±

    The aura at his side shifted and Terry nearly gasped. Emotions broiled off his father¡ªopen disgust, furious rage, practically a killing intent. He glanced over to see his father trembling on one knee.

    ¡°I am,¡± the man replied, his tone clipped. Terry noted the lack of honorific and studied the two of them¡ªhis father and grandfather¡ªin a new light. The obvious tension between the two Fairways was throwing him off.

    I thought I was annoyed with them. But if I¡¯m reading this right, they actively hate each other¡­

    The Emperor nodded once and waved his hand. ¡°Prepare him.¡±

    James stood up quickly, turning to face Terry. He looked up at his father through his bone mask, willing himself to remain stoic despite the torrent of emotions churning within him.

    His father¡¯s voice echoed through the mask.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

 Chapter 25: Buried Alive...Again

    He ignored his father at first, glancing behind him to see a dozen or so relatives milling about to the side of the throne room, their voices hushed and their gazes shadowed. He spotted Aunt Julia staring daggers at him while she clutched Maxina and Marcus to her hip and he sent her back a smile.

    His aunt¡¯s presence brought his mind back to the rose pricking into his chest through his jacket and he put a hand to it as he looked back at his father.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    The gesture must have looked strange, as if he were placing his hand over his heart as he answered. But he didn¡¯t care and James didn¡¯t question him. He simply nodded and started walking. Terry turned back, his eyes tracking over Whipvine¡¯s steady gaze, Mesmer¡¯s encouraging nod, and the Emperor¡¯s piercing green eyes. Then he looked at War Crimes and the man¡¯s sickly charming smile twisted, like he knew something Terry didn¡¯t. The memory of Whipvine¡¯s statement from the night before played in his mind.

    He¡¯s a black-hearted baby killer.

    Seeing his twisted smile now, he believed it. Underneath that charming facade, Terry caught a glimpse of the man who had once held an entire airport hostage with explosives. He understood now why his mother had always kept him away from the super.

    He forced himself to lock eyes with the man for another beat, then turned away. This was the kind of man he had pledged to stop. This was the purpose he wanted to re-solidify as he went into his Awakening.

    Please, System, give me the power to fight evil like that¡­

    When he turned to leave, his father was there, watching the two of them with narrowed eyes behind his mask. Terry walked past the man, not interested in explaining the enmity. A moment later, he heard his father¡¯s footsteps behind him.

    They walked in silence for a minute before James cleared his throat. Terry glanced over to see his father casting him hesitant glances, obviously struggling with something, but he didn¡¯t feel the need to ease the man¡¯s trepidation. So he waited for his father to break the heavy silence between them. A moment later, he did.

    ¡°How¡­how have you been?¡±

    How have I been? Really?

    ¡°Fine.¡± His tone was sharp, not caring if he cut the man. He felt his father falter behind him, but he continued walking.

    ¡°Terry?¡± his father called after him. ¡°Terry!¡±

    He stopped, steeling himself, forcing his heart rate down. His aura tried to buck out of his grip, but he held the leash firm, tamping it down viciously.

    ¡°Yes?¡± he called back, not daring to turn.

    ¡°I¡¯m just asking you a simple question.¡±

    His eyelid twitched as he stared forward, his gaze lasered into the empty hallway before him.

    ¡°And I¡¯ve given you an answer. I¡¯m fine.¡±

    The silence reigned once more and Terry had had enough. He started walking again, heading for the nearest Catacomb entrance, when a rush of movement sounded at his back and an iron grip latched onto his shoulder, spinning him around. He now stood face-to-face with his father, his most recent growth spurt putting him at a similar height. The man¡¯s green eyes burned as he stared at Terry.

    ¡°Don¡¯t walk away from me when I¡¯m talking to you.¡±

    The strength disparity between them was a great chasm. If his father wanted to bend Terry over his knee and spank him right there in the hallway, there wasn¡¯t a thing he could do about it. All the same, he brushed his father¡¯s hand off his shoulder with a vicious swipe.

    James stared in open fury and Terry wondered if the man might strike him. But he found he didn¡¯t care¡ªsix months of resentment finally found their outlet.

    ¡°You asked a question and I answered. If you wanted more from me, you should have been there¡ª¡±

    ¡°I had my duties¡ª¡±

    ¡°NO!¡± He was shouting now. ¡°DON¡¯T!¡± His father¡¯s eyes widened beneath his bone mask. ¡°You don¡¯t get to blame duty or your father or the Topekan war. Screw that! You left me. You cut me off. It was you who couldn¡¯t even give me a hug after mother¡¯s death. You who fled the city to drown your grief in blood and violence. I¡¯ve been here, putting my life back together, dealing with the pain of losing two parents in a single week.¡± He could see the shock and pain in the man¡¯s eyes, but his face was completely hidden. ¡°Look at you. You can¡¯t even face me without your mask. You¡¯re a coward¡ª¡±

    ¡°Careful,¡± James growled.

    Terry spoke over him, letting out all the words that had run through his mind during months of sleepless nights. All the things he wished he could say to his father that he hadn¡¯t been able to.

    ¡°You ran away when mom died and you never came back.¡± He indicated the mask with a wave. ¡°You¡¯re still not back, still hiding. I don¡¯t know from what¡­¡± No, I do know from what. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ve been hiding from the fact that mom¡¯s still alive¡ª¡± James¡¯ eyes bugged out beneath his bone mask and Terry felt a thrill knowing he¡¯d hit a nerve. ¡°¡ªknowing that she¡¯s still alive and you failed her!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what the fuck you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    His voice was low, dangerous. It would have scared Terry at any other time, but he wouldn¡¯t let himself feel the fear, not in this moment, not from his father.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the feeds, Commander.¡± He spat the word, pleased when the man flinched. ¡°You stomped on the Siren¡¯s neck rather than save mom from Sol. I don¡¯t blame her for fleeing. She must have finally recognized what a monster you¡ª¡±

    ¡°ENOUGH!¡±

    Aura slammed into him, shredding his control, warping his emotions and thoughts, killing the fire raging inside of him. He staggered back, his legs going to jelly from the sheer force of the attack. Because that¡¯s what it was, an attack. Only sheer willpower and obstinance kept him on his feet.

    James pulled his mask off, desummoning it. His expression was tight, his eyes wild as he stared at Terry. Heaving breaths shook the man and Terry wondered if he would continue pressing his aura. But a moment later, it recoiled in on itself, leaving him shaken but unharmed.

    The animal look in his father¡¯s eyes dimmed, the man seeming to come to from a fugue state. Regret played across his face and he held out a hand.

    ¡°Terry, I¡¯m so¡ª¡±

    He cut off as Terry turned away. He didn¡¯t want his father to see how much that had affected him. A quick swipe at his eyes to wipe the tears was all Terry allowed himself before he kept walking.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he said over his shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s not keep everyone waiting.¡±

    They walked in silence, Terry¡¯s aura pulled in tight, bruised, vulnerable. James'' aura flickered in his senses, but he didn¡¯t try to read it¡ªcouldn¡¯t, not without opening himself up. It had been a mistake to do that, to engage with the man. That wasn¡¯t his father; hadn¡¯t been for six months now.

    Why did I think things would be different in person?

    When they reached the Catacombs, Terry let James lead, too frazzled to try to find his way. Before he knew it, they were pulling up to two ornate doors where two liches waited. The doors were made of shaped bone, painted images depicted the Emperor arriving in the Underworld, leading the Bonesplinter clan to Earth. In the Emperor¡¯s hands were his now-familiar bone mask and his blackwood scythe¡ªrewards for his Midmark and Capstone Quests respectively.

    As they approached the doors, the liches¡¯ hoods turned toward each other, the disrupted auras impossible for creatures so attuned to miss. Terry thought he recognized the lich on the right and allowed his aura to seep out, tight, guarded, reaching gingerly toward the lich. The aura was familiar and he was pleased to have been correct.

    ¡°Hello, Hoping Tree,¡± Terry said.

    ¡°Welcome to the Awakening Chamber, Prince Terry.¡± He turned to James. ¡°And welcome home, Commander.¡±

    James inclined his head, but didn¡¯t reply, his eyes flicking to Terry before turning back to the doors. He moved past the liches, pulling the large doors open and stepping to the side. Beyond them, a simple chamber stood, dug out from dirt rather than stone. It was circular and not overly large, barely fifty feet in diameter. Against one wall was an array of medical equipment on battery power and against the other wall, an innocuous wooden cabinet that seemed to contain some curios.

    But as soon as Terry entered the chamber, he felt the power roiling off the items inside the cabinet like a wave. The combined aura of its contents were at least as powerful as the draugr, but had no harmony¡ªlike walking into an orchestra performance where everyone was reading different music.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    He regarded the cabinet for a moment, then found his eyes drawn to the center of the room. There, a large pile of dirt stood poised next to a hole. The hole was dug longer in one direction than the other.

    The perfect size to fit a coffin.

    This is the second grave I¡¯m to climb inside in under a day.

    The thought amused him and he felt his sour mood improving. He approached the grave and stared down into its depths. Lying at the bottom was a coffin made entirely of blackwood, matching the texture and coloring of his grandfather¡¯s scythe. He could feel an aura emanating from the coffin that spoke of death and he was forced to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth.

    This was it. The moment he had been dreaming of for most of his life.

    But first, he felt Hoping Tree approaching and he turned to look. The lich drew his attention toward the cabinet with a bony hand.

    His sibilant voice hissed from the depths of his cowl. ¡°Prince Terry, will you come to the cabinet please?¡±

    Terry turned to regard the coffin for a moment longer, then followed the lich.

    ¡°Extend your aura,¡± Hoping Tree instructed. ¡°Find the object of power that best attunes to you.¡±

    As he approached the cabinets, he did as the lich instructed, opening himself to the surrounding aura of the room. He felt Hoping Tree at his side, a calming energy being pushed through his aura. The second lich standing over the grave, his skeletal hands held up as his aura extended down into the hole. His father standing by the pile of dirt, his eyes unfocused, his aura erratic.

    Finally, he turned his attention to the cabinet and the objects of power began resonating.

    The cabinet was separated into quadrants, each section marked with a rune denoting the four elements of the Underworld¡ªBlood, Bone, Ice, and Spirit. The first rune was Ice and he examined the objects before him¡ªboth visually and with his aura. First, he reached out to a necklace that seemed to be made of frozen pearls and¡ª

    Razor-ice sheared his skin. Rime forming around his eyes, blinding him. His limbs growing heavy. The draugr coming for¡ª

    He instantly recoiled, taking three involuntary steps back.

    ¡°My prince!¡± Hoping Tree hissed. ¡°Are you well?¡±

    His chest heaved and he glanced around, realizing that he wasn¡¯t in the frozen depths of the Underworld. No draugr approached with its aura flared bright and evil. He was safe¡­

    ¡°Terry?¡± a voice asked from behind him, questing and soft.

    That snapped him out of his terror more than anything.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­it just¡­reminded me of¡ª¡± He shook his head, suppressing the memory. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Not the ice-attuned items, it would appear,¡± the second lich suggested.

    Terry nodded, sliding over to the second quadrant marked with a rune depicting a blood-red drop. This rune was the sigil of the sanguine¡ªvampires, as they were called colloquially. Unlike the other undead of Wichita, the sanguine weren¡¯t the Emperor¡¯s thralls. Instead, they were more like business partners. Mesmer had explained it to him after the first of them arrived.

    ¡°The Emperor of the Long Night is a title your grandfather earned in the Underworld. A bargain he struck decades ago. By summoning the night that defeated Sol, he has also given the sanguine passage to our world.¡±

    Which is why he can¡¯t bring back the sun. Mesmer hadn¡¯t said the words, but the implication was clear. Night was here to stay in Wichita.

    He flicked his aura out once more, delicate, hesitant, expecting another backlash to sear his mind. A knife stood propped on a pedestal, flaking specks of rust-colored blood marred its blade. Its edge was chipped as if it had been smashed against stone or armor over and over again. His aura made contact and the smell of ferric blood invaded his nostrils. A woman¡¯s scream sounded from behind him and he clenched his teeth to keep from whirling around. He withdrew his aura, the scream echoing in his mind as he moved along the cabinet.

    The next quadrant had the Bone rune and he knew from previous coaching that this was the element they expected him to resonate with. Another knife was displayed here, longer and thinner than the blood object. It seemed to be made entirely of bone and red, stringy sinew was wrapped around the base to form a crude grip. The texture of the blade itself was pockmarked, as if bugs had burrowed all along its surface. Despite its appearance, as Terry¡¯s aura wrapped around the blade, he knew instinctively that it was sturdier even than modern steel blades and could cut both flesh or spirit depending on the user¡¯s intention.

    And unlike the necklace or blood-caked blade, he didn¡¯t immediately recoil from this object. Images formed in his mind, a ghoul holding a piece of bone as long as a forearm. He propped it against a large stone and began shaving it down, crafting the blade from the rough shape. He felt the entire process unwind in his mind in an instant, the shaping, the delicate wrapping of the hilt, and finally, the weathering as it lay abandoned after the wielder¡¯s death. Centuries passed, imbuing the bone blade with the energy of its environment. He felt it resonate, the familiarity with the ghoulish creator, the medium that was the bone, and the place where it had laid discarded for so long.

    Hoping Tree hissed at his side, his aura shifting into a pleased shape.

    ¡°Excellent, my prince. Excellent! The Emperor will approve.¡±

    Terry bit his lip, his thoughts conflicted. He didn¡¯t want to be a Summoner¡ªnot anymore. Would finding this perfect match bias the Awakening toward the same Class as his family? He released the blade from his aura and wrapped it around the rose pricking into his flesh through his jacket. Hoping Tree had been talking and he¡¯d missed it.

    ¡°Hm?¡± he asked, turning toward the lich. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°I said you should try the Spirit objects, just in case there is a stronger attunement.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right,¡± he replied absentmindedly, turning to the final quadrant of the cabinet.

    There were three objects here but they were smaller and he could tell their energies were less saturated. Lying next to each other were a brooch, a comb, and a whistle. He played his aura across each of the items, catching glimpses of their owners, but never that same connection he had felt with the bone blade. The brooch and comb were a set, both belonging to a creature who had been given the items by a spirit. The whistle had belonged to a humanoid thing that Terry couldn¡¯t quite call human. It had red skin and warped horns, the whistle clutched between its fingers. As it blew the whistle, a spirit climbed from the earth, waiting to be given instructions.

    He pulled back his aura, not caring to witness the rest. Hoping Tree was already reaching into the cabinet, drawing forth the blade of bone.

    ¡°Resonate on this powerful object as you Awaken, my prince,¡± Hoping Tree said. ¡°It will help shape your intent and guide your choices.¡±

    Terry reached for the relic reluctantly, holding the sinew-wrapped hilt with the tips of his fingers. He could feel the aura leaking from the blade but kept his own aura pulled in tight.

    ¡°A very poignant choice, my prince,¡± the other lich said. ¡°Would you please climb into the grave and we will begin.¡±

    Terry followed the two liches to the edge of the grave, peering down at the blackwood coffin waiting below. He hadn¡¯t noticed before, but there were wires snaking from the medical devices down into holes cut out of the side of the coffin, along with a thick plastic tube connected to tanks against the wall. He felt his heart rate spike as reality became unavoidable.

    I¡¯m about to be buried alive¡­again.

    ¡°When the prince is settled, please attach the diodes and pulse oximeter,¡± Hoping Tree said at his side.

    Terry nodded, feeling his father approach from the other side. James put his hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder and though he might have shook it off any other time, his thoughts were too fixated on that coffin to bother.

    ¡°Terry, I¡­¡± the man hesitated and Terry glanced up to see his father¡¯s face¡ªunmasked, open worry naked in his eyes. He seemed to want to say a million things, his eyes searching his son¡¯s face as if looking for the words he needed to mend the divide between them. Two words could bridge that chasm. Three words could begin the healing.

    But I¡¯m sorry and I love you were not what James said. Instead, he looked away, his jaw visibly clenching.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± he said, his voice tight.

    Terry wasn¡¯t disappointed¡ªhe had known the man didn¡¯t have it in him to say the things he knew had to be said. He simply nodded as he climbed down, a small cascade of soil followed him into the hole, raining upon the blackwood casket and onto his head. His feet landed upon the wood with a thud and he gave his head a shake to dislodge the dirt from his hair. When he looked up, James was standing near the pile of dirt, a shovel in his hands.

    Terry looked away, opening his jacket and lifting his shirt to attach the sensors Hoping Tree had indicated. When that was done, he took a deep breathe and lay down in the coffin. The breathing tube poked through a hole by his head, the sensor wires beside it.

    With a final look up at his father, he reached his hand up and pulled the coffin lid closed. Darkness enveloped him, but he shut that out of his mind, focusing on steadying his breaths.

    When he felt like he had a grip on his emotions, that the terror wouldn¡¯t slip its reins and take charge, he hefted the bone blade in his hand¡­and flung it to the other end of the coffin. It clattered at his feet and he finally felt his aura sense relax. His hand went to the rose at his chest, fumbling over the zipper as he tried to extract it.

    There was no warning to signal the first pile of dirt¡ªjust a thud making him jump as it collided with the lid. He pulled the zipper down, his fingers reaching into the breast pocket of his windbreaker. He pricked himself against a thorn, finding the safe spot to grip through touch. The smell of his own blood invaded his senses and he had to force himself not to think of the blood relic and that woman¡¯s scream.

    The rose snagged against the pocket edge and he reached his other hand up to slowly free it. He couldn¡¯t see the rose, but he prayed he hadn¡¯t smashed it in his pocket. He reached his aura outward and was relieved to feel the rose¡¯s was strong as ever. It reminded him of his mother and that eased his anxiety a bit.

    ¡°What next?¡± he wondered to himself.

    The dirt had been piling on the whole time, the sound of it thudding against wood now lost as his father worked quickly to bury him fully.

    ¡°What a ridiculous ritual,¡± he muttered, his eyes casting about blankly in the dark. He focused his attention on the white rose and its aura, desperately hoping he could receive some images like he had from the relics of the Underworld. But just as he¡¯d discovered the night before, no images came. There was a definite sensation to the rose¡¯s aura, almost like a fingerprint that he recognized as his mother¡¯s, but no visions.

    His mind flashed to the memory of the throne room minutes earlier. His Aunt Julia¡¯s hate; the Emperor¡¯s cold indifference; War Crime¡¯s smug surety.

    He used the image of that man¡¯s face to anchor his thoughts. Men like him were the enemy, true villains. Black-hearted baby killers, as Whipvine had said.

    He remembered the thought that had resonated so powerfully as he left the throne room:

    Please, System, give me the power to fight evil like that¡­

    As he repeated that phrase over and over, he focused his aura on the rose clutched in his hands. Time passed, seconds or minutes, he couldn¡¯t tell. But then his mantra was broken as he noticed the air seemed to grow stagnant. He leaned toward the hose that was near his head. With a start, he realized that even when he put his skin right next to it, there was no soft breeze, no brush of fresh air entering the coffin.

    Then, the realization hit him and his heart flipped. There was only one tube! You can¡¯t circulate air with one tube! There¡¯s nothing to draw the bad air out!

    It was right around that moment that he started asphyxiating.

    His head felt light, his lungs straining. He started hyperventilating, the pitch black of the coffin only amplifying the fear and panic.

    He slammed his fist against the lid, screamed for help with what little air he did have. The pulse oximeter should have alerted them that something was wrong. Was his father pulling the dirt off to get to his son? Or was he still piling it on top, burying him further as he suffocated to death?

    There was no air to scream with now. Surrounded on all sides, he kicked and punched until his limbs went heavy, his brain drowning in the carbon dioxide.

    Strangely enough, the blackness of his vision receded. White slipped in from the edges. A sound whispered in his ear¡ªthe rushing of blood?

    No, he realized, it¡¯s a voice.

    ¡°Hello, Terry.¡±

    ¡°¡­mom?¡±

 Chapter 26: "Hello, Terry."

    His vision filled in from the edges, color shifting like developing film. He wasn¡¯t in the pitch black of the coffin anymore. Air filtered in on command and he had never been so happy for anything in his entire life.

    With the immediate issue of his impending asphyxiation appearing to be tabled for the moment, he finally turned his attention back to his surroundings. Had he been hallucinating in death? Was he dead now?

    If this was the afterlife, he was about to be really annoyed, because it looked just like his bedroom¡ªbefore his father had ripped down all his posters and burned his figurines.

    Then his eye caught on the poster of his mother, hanging directly over his fireplace, and his mind short circuited.

    I heard her voice! Was that real or just wishful thinking?

    He cast about, looking for her, but there wasn¡¯t anywhere to hide, where could she be¡ª

    ¡°Hello, Terry.¡±

    He spun around, his eyes tracking to his computer chair where she leaned back casually.

    ¡°Mom¡­it is you!¡± He rushed to slide off the bed, but her hand raised, stopping him dead. There was something off about the gesture, something that didn¡¯t ring true.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not your mother.¡± It was her voice, her face, her eyes¡­but the mannerisms were gone. Where she had been vibrant in her expressions, her eyes brimming with laughter just waiting for an excuse to jump out, now, she looked cold, clinical.

    He sat back, examining her closer, testing with his aura as well as his other senses.

    As soon as his aura touched the corona surrounding her, he immediately recoiled, shuffling backward on his bed and falling off the edge in his haste.

    He bound to his feet, eyeing the thing inhabiting his mother¡¯s body with both fear and awe.

    The feeling of its aura had been unlike any other aura he had ever experienced. Vast, towering, incomprehensible¡­cold, powerful, beautiful. Gossamer webs of energy trailing away into the distance, a million visions of life, death, power, hopelessness, and so much more.

    But the sensations were fleeting, slipping away from his memory like sand in an hourglass. He tried to examine them before they disappeared, but the more he regarded them, the faster they drained away.

    The horror and beauty of the thing before him was magnified by the fact that it inhabited his mother¡¯s appearance. He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that¡­

    Then, it shifted, his mother¡¯s features expanding, darkening. Thick, valley-like scars appeared like molded clay, her body turning masculine, skin weathered and muscular.

    In a single breath, Whipvine now sat before him, the scars dancing on his face as he smiled.

    ¡°I do my best to choose the most comforting appearance for my Awakened, but sometimes the shock overrides the senses.¡±

    It was Whipvine¡¯s voice speaking, but there was that same alien texture to it and Terry¡¯s mind finally snapped into place.

    ¡°You¡¯re the System,¡± he finally said.

    ¡°Some call me that, yes. In other realms, I am called the Weaver. In others, the Mother. Others, the Bringer of Life, Power, and so on. Many names to reflect many cultures.¡± Whipvine, the System, whatever this thing was, shrugged¡ªsuch a human gesture after such inhuman words. ¡°You may call me System. The clinical detachment of that title seems to help some of my Awakened reconcile my nature.¡±

    My Awakened? The possessive nature of that term was less than comforting.

    ¡°You preferred your mother, then?¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s features began to soften.

    ¡°No!¡± he said instinctively. He didn¡¯t know why¡ªall he¡¯d wanted in the past six months had been to see his mother again, in the flesh. But this¡­this was a perversion.

    The shifting stopped, Whipvine¡¯s face snapping back into place.

    ¡°Very well. Are you prepared to accept your duty?¡±

    What had been that word it used? Detachment¡­

    He understood now, the System wasn¡¯t human¡ªwasn¡¯t even human-like. It was an existence that dwarfed his own. He felt so small, so inconsequential.

    It can¡¯t be like this, this can¡¯t be the truth. We are ants before this thing.

    ¡°I sense your dread, Terry.¡±

    His head shot up at that. Is it reading my thoughts?

    ¡°You¡¯re wondering if I¡¯m reading your mind. No. But your Presence is open, your existential terror rippling across my senses like the horror-scream of a gazelle locked in the lion¡¯s jaws.¡±

    Pretty much, he thought.

    ¡°This is very common, Terry. But inaccurate; the metaphor incomplete. I am not the lion.¡± Whipvine¡ªno, the System¡¯s avatar¡ªtilted its head in thought. ¡°I am the teacher. I am the mother training you on the etiquette of survival. Which watering hole is safe. Which sounds are the wind and which are approaching death. But more than that, I unlock the power you cannot realize on your own; guide you through its uses and application. I will help you become strong, so that you are not the gazelle, but the lion. Only the lions survive in this universe, Terry. For it is vast and full of horror. You have not seen this horror, yet. But it exists. And I will train you to fight it.¡±

    He reeled away, his back touching the wall. The physical sensation comforted him and he pressed his hand tight to it, clinging to it like a totem.

    ¡°This was not-I don¡¯t¡ª¡± He scanned the room, looking for an exit, an escape. Maybe this was a bad dream? The hallucinations of an oxygen-deprived mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to calm you now, Terry¡ª¡± Those are the least calming words I¡¯ve ever heard. ¡°¡ªDo not resist, because that will feel unpleasant.¡±

    No thank you, I¡¯m good, don¡¯t calm me down¡ª

    That towering monolith crept toward him, enveloping him so completely and suddenly that he couldn¡¯t have resisted if he wanted to. Pure, unfiltered emotion was injected into his aura, like a supercharged Mesmer tricking him into a state of calm.

    Images and feelings shifted together, like paint splashed into a pool of water. A calm and sense of surety overlaid across his thoughts and he had to wonder why he had been so panicked a moment ago.

    Sure, it¡¯s a bit scary that this unknowable creature just compared me to a gazelle. It¡¯s also pretty terrifying that whatever is out there is bad enough that this towering presence has to train us to fight it. And I¡¯m definitely confused on why something so strong needs us humans at all¡­

    But at the same time, I¡¯ve always known that supers were called by the System to fight in other places. Every Capstone involved a summoning¡ªand many Midmark Quests, too.

    I guess I just expected it to be more¡­human.

    ¡°I¡¯m feeling, well, not great¡­but better.¡±

    The Whipvine avatar nodded. ¡°I am sorry for alarming you. I¡¯ve tried sheltering my Awakened in the past and have had poor results. One of your people refers to this as the ripping the band-aid off approach. But I assure you, I will not summon you for many years.

    ¡°However, that is not to say there will be no requests. On your world, we call them Quests. Some are crafted to help your Skills advance, while others are to meet a specific need. These Quests are non-negotiable. Failure to complete them has consequences.

    ¡°Which is why I always give my Awakened a choice.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind felt heavy, his aura sluggish. He was hearing the words fine, but it was like he was forced to process them in slow motion. Probably to keep him from overreacting, having a gut instinct that would push him back into a spiraling anxiety.

    ¡°What choice?¡± he asked after what felt like a full minute.

    Whipvine¡ªthe System¡ªstood from the chair and approached the fireplace, its back to Terry.

    ¡°Accept both the power and responsibility of becoming my Awakened.¡± He turned, and for a moment, all Terry saw was his mentor in those eyes. His thoughts moved so slow that he was able to shove down the revulsion of this doppelg?nger and think of him as just Whipvine, just his old friend. ¡°Or, refuse. I will hold nothing against you, nor will I punish you for your decision. But I will never offer this again. And you will never learn what happened to your mother¡­¡±

    It was multiple seconds before the shock of those words filtered through whatever forced calm the System was imposing on his mind. But when they did, even that weighted blanket that was its aura couldn¡¯t completely stifle his shock and outrage.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°What¡­you¡¯re holding that knowledge hostage?¡±

    Whipvine shook his head. ¡°No, not hostage. I am bound from revealing that information.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Bound by who?¡± Terry asked.

    ¡°By myself, by my peers, by the agreement I make with all my Awakened.¡± The avatar moved to the bed, sitting on the corner as it regarded Terry. ¡°Which brings me to the next topic of discussion. The Rules.¡±

    ¡°Rules?¡± He felt his mind bucking against the aura blanket and took a moment to process. As much as he might not like what amounted to an emotional drugging, he also didn¡¯t want to be curled up in a ball in the corner during the most important moment of his life.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the System replied. ¡°The Rules are simple, but absolute.¡± It ticked up a finger. ¡°One, you are never to discuss the details of a Quest except when explicitly stated. Two, you may only discuss the specifics of your Skills with other Awakened. You may reveal your Class with non-Awakened without issue. Three, you are never¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sorry, hold on.¡± Terry¡¯s brain was finally catching up to the System¡¯s words. ¡°I can¡¯t discuss Quests even with other supers? How would we work together? What¡¯s the point of that, anyway?¡±

    The System avatar nodded as if the question was expected.

    ¡°That is where Rule Five comes into play. Let me move in order and then I¡¯ll come back to your question.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡±

    ¡°Rule Three, you are never to force, coerce, or invade the mind of another Awakened in order to reveal the details of a Quest or their Awakening. Any information that you arrive at of your own volition, either through trickery or happenstance are acceptable. You will receive warnings when I perceive you are operating outside the bounds of that restriction.¡±

    Wait, what? I have so many questions about that.

    ¡°Rule Four, there are no restrictions when it comes to conflicts between Awakened. Violence, imprisonment, and mental manipulation are all acceptable, insomuch as you do not violate Rule Three. Which brings me to Rule Five.¡±

    The Whipvine avatar took on a pensive look, staring into the unlit fireplace for a moment before answering¡ªa starkly human expression after the alien nature of the last few minutes.

    ¡°Rule Five is this: never reveal anything about this meeting or our discussions. This is the most important Rule and one that, if broken, will seal your fate and force you from my protection.¡±

    Terry frowned at that, both confused by that last statement and how this tied in with his earlier question.

    ¡°Okay, the part about not revealing our discussion makes sense. But why would it force me out of your protection? And what does that have to do with not being able to discuss Quests with other supers?¡±

    The avatar¡¯s expression shifted, the eyes cutting back to Terry with an intensity that would have unnerved him except for the aura drugging wrapped around him.

    ¡°There was a time when we kept this a secret¡ª¡± There was that we again. ¡°¡ªthought it better to keep younger beings in the dark until we felt they could handle the truth. That led to¡­many unfortunate mistakes. With your world and other newly Awakened worlds, we have shifted to a more open policy.¡±

    This is open?

    ¡°To that end, I will reveal to you now the purpose of Rule Five.¡± Terry felt his emotions push against the aura blanketing him, then recoil back into placidity. ¡°I am not a singular existence. Others of my kind¡­and some not of my kind, are engaged with your world and others.¡±

    ¡°Others¡­¡± Terry whispered. ¡°You mean you¡¯re not the System for every super?¡±

    The avatar shook its head. ¡°I am not. Nor am I aware of which Awakened are pledged to which existence. I only know which are not mine. Even if we were to become aware, we are bound not to divulge such information. We may, however, assign Quests that directly pit you against other Awakened. Do you understand the implications of what I am telling you?¡±

    ¡°Not even remotely,¡± he answered after a moment.

    ¡°This is why Rule Four and Five exist. For better or worse, you are our proxies. Conflict and some measure of fighting is expected, which is why Rule Four does not restrict you from doing so. But Rule Five¡­that is for your own benefit. Were you to discuss the details of this meeting, it would become apparent which Waker you serve. My opposites would utilize their Awakened to crush you before your power could bloom.¡±

    Terry shambled over to the bed, his legs weak. He nearly missed the edge as they gave out.

    ¡°You¡¯re saying¡­other supers would be sent to kill me¡­if I revealed my System is the Weaver, the Mother, or whatever your name is.¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s features contorted, the avatar¡¯s scars twisting into a frown. ¡°Most assuredly. When a super reveals their Waker, they put a target on their back. My allies would be your allies, but my enemies would be your enemies. This is why we give you a choice. You¡¯re being conscripted into a war that has existed since before your species discovered fire and will continue to exist well after your sun burns out. Some are not meant for war and we understand this. However, I would not offer you this opportunity if I didn¡¯t think you were a good candidate.¡±

    This was too much. His thoughts felt heavy, unable to navigate all the threads this System was dangling before him. ¡°I guess I understand why you put this calming blanket over us. That¡¯s a lot to digest, but¡­I think I¡¯d rather have this conversation without feeling like I¡¯m drugged.¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± the avatar replied. ¡°Brace yourself.¡±

    A moment later, the weight of the world left his shoulders, replaced by the weight of what the System had told him.

    Other Systems, fighting each other through the superheroes of Earth. That, I can wrap my head around. But not knowing which are the good guys and which are the bad guys puts me on edge. And for the first time, he considered the implication of multiple Systems with regards to his family, their conflict with the Knights of Sol, and his mother.

    ¡°Was the Knights of Sol attack another System directing them at us?¡±

    The Whipvine avatar shook its head. ¡°I cannot say.¡±

    ¡°And my mother? Was she the same System as my father and grandfather? Was she yours or¡­?¡±

    ¡°I cannot say.¡±

    The frustration boiled over now that the aura blanket was gone. ¡°Dammit, what¡¯s the point of these stupid rules? You can¡¯t even tell me who my allies are in this proxy war? What if I end up killing one of yours or¡­they end up killing me? It doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±

    The avatar spread its hands. ¡°You are still new to this, so I don¡¯t expect you to fully understand. We Wakers have our own agreed upon restrictions as well. Were we to employ our Awakened in unrestricted open conflict, your world would become uninhabitable within weeks. It¡¯s happened before and we learned our lesson. This is a shadow war for your world, Terry, and we each have our agents which we employ as fits their specific capabilities. As for why I will not tell you who my Awakened are, well¡­in time, I might reveal such details to you as required. But every covert operation relies upon the compartmentalization of information. We operate in cells, Terry, not armies.¡±

    He growled, shooting to his feet to pace the room. A part of him almost longed for that aura drugging, but that was only weakness. No, he needed his full senses to process this madness.

    ¡°You said so yourself, none of us can coerce the others into revealing information. So why the secrecy? If you said to me right now, your father is one of mine, how could I mess that up? It would only increase our cooperation!¡±

    It would be so much simpler if he knew his father was one of the good guys. His mind caught on that thought. Are we even the good guys? Is this System even capable of such distinction?

    ¡°It is not so simple, Terry,¡± the avatar replied. ¡°The absence of information is revealing in and of itself. Perhaps I did not tell you your father is one of mine. What then? Is he necessarily your enemy? Perhaps he is an ally today, an enemy tomorrow?¡± He shook his head. ¡°You will come to understand in time. That is all the assurance I am able to give you.¡±

    He didn¡¯t like it, but that did make a sort of sense. A very paranoid sort of sense. But then he remembered the possibility of other supers being given Quests to kill him and he could at least appreciate the strict secrecy was partially to save him from that fate.

    But even if he acknowledged that the System knew what it was doing, he still had a thought niggling at the back of his mind.

    ¡°Are we the good guys?¡± he whispered. He was so afraid of the answer, he almost pulled the question back. Did I want to know?

    Yes, he realized. I want to know¡ªhave to know. Those words he had been repeating in the coffin echoed in his mind now.

    Please, System, give me the power to fight evil like that¡­

    The avatar regarded him for a moment, Whipvine¡¯s eyes sharp, piercing.

    ¡°Good and evil are subjective, Terry. Every creature is the hero of their own story. Very few are cruel for cruelty¡¯s sake¡ª¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    The avatar stopped, Whipvine¡¯s eyebrows rising.

    Terry shook his head.

    ¡°Sorry, but you¡¯re wrong. Maybe you¡¯ve seen things I couldn¡¯t possibly imagine, but have you considered your vastness has altered your perspective? Skewed it so much that from your tower of power, everything is grey?¡±

    The avatar smiled. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what I said? It¡¯s subjective. A matter of perspective. Good, evil, indifference, hate¡ªthey all only exist within the lens of the individual.¡±

    Terry chewed his lip, mulling over those words. He could see what the System was saying¡ªeven agree with it on an intellectual level. But there was something inside him that wouldn¡¯t accept that; something that clung so powerfully to this possibly childish assurance.

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right,¡± he admitted, his eyes trailing to the fireplace, lost in the dancing flames. ¡°Maybe good and evil are just my childish projections of a limited point of view.¡± His gaze cut to the avatar, his conviction settling in with the weight of dried concrete. ¡°But I know what good and evil mean to me. And I¡¯m not willing to compromise on that.¡±

    The avatar smiled¡ªugly and violent on Whipvine¡¯s face. But he could sense something in that expression, a smug satisfaction, like he¡¯d walked right into a rhetorical trap. But whatever it was he was seeing in the avatar¡¯s face, its tone wasn¡¯t gloating.

    ¡°Yes, Terry. I already know this about you. It¡¯s why I¡¯ve crafted your paths the way I have.¡±

    He frowned at that. ¡°Paths? Is that what you call Classes? Or maybe Quests?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a composite of that, and more. Simply put, it represents what type of Awakened you will be. Through that choice, I select your Class, craft your Skills, design your Quests, and so on.¡±

    He perked up at the mention of Classes and Skills. But none of that answered the question from before.

    ¡°And my mother? You said if I refused I¡¯d never find out what happened to my mother. But if I accept, you won¡¯t tell me, will you?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Frustration boiled beneath the surface and he paced over toward the fireplace, staring into its depths as his mind raced.

    ¡°Then what¡¯s the point? Why would I choose to become your Awakened? Join a fight that isn¡¯t mine. Put my life at risk for¡­what?¡±

    ¡°For an opportunity, Terry.¡±

    He whirled on the avatar, that boiling frustration simmering over.

    ¡°An opportunity for what! To live in secrecy? The threat of imminent death from other supers always hanging over my head?¡±

    The avatar stared back impassively, Whipvine¡¯s eyes relaxed and patient.

    ¡°An opportunity to become powerful; do good; do evil. Become famous¡ªor not. The choice is yours. Make it now and I will facilitate your path.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about power or fame. I¡¯m just a kid who misses his mother!¡±

    The avatar nodded, a sad look crossing his mentor¡¯s face for a brief moment. He wondered if that was calculated or a genuine expression.

    ¡°I will present you with three paths, Terry. Paths which I have extrapolated would suit you.¡± The avatar leaned forward, the light from the fire dancing across Whipvine¡¯s eyes. ¡°If you accept one of these paths, I promise to guide you toward the answers you seek.¡±

    ¡°And if I don¡¯t¡­I¡¯ll never know what happened to my mother?¡±

    ¡°It is possible you will learn more, in time. But it will be out of my hands. I cannot promise one way or the other.¡±

    He sagged against the fireplace mantle, feeling trapped. This wasn¡¯t the exciting empowerment he had expected. He had imagined himself Awakening to a brand new world of exploration and power. Instead, he was faced with a heaping pile of danger and more questions than answers.

    ¡°So my options are remain powerless and possibly never know what happened to mom. Or accept both power and the responsibility of a war that I literally just learned about five minutes ago?¡± He turned to the avatar. ¡°Am I getting that right?¡±

    The avatar nodded. ¡°A fair assessment. How about I present your paths and you may choose¡­or reject my offer and return as you were. Would you like to hear more?¡±

    He hated how manipulated he felt, how this Weaver, this System¡ªwhatever the hell¡ªwas backing him into a corner and making him feel like it was a choice. But more than that, he hated how desperately he wanted it all the same. He felt like a fish who knew it was hooked but didn¡¯t care to squirm off the line.

    It was impossible to deny, he wanted superpowers and he wanted answers. If he had to agree to vague rules and the threat of death from other supers¡­well, no one had ever said being a super was a peaceful life.

    And the mystery of his mother ate at him like acid¡ªit would burn him up if he never discovered the truth.

    ¡°Yes, I want to hear what my choices are.¡±

 Chapter 27: Welcome to the Fight

    The avatar nodded and stood up, approaching where he stood at the fireplace. It indicated the bed with a wave and Terry reluctantly sat on the edge. With its other hand, it pointed toward the poster of his grandfather, Emperor Necroton. The poster lit up, a corona of light surrounding it like an indicator.

    ¡°Your first choice. Follow in the Emperor¡¯s footsteps, claiming power and conquest. If you choose this option, you will eventually eclipse his strength, forcing him to step down or die as you ascend to Emperor. Prince James will resent you and his father, but will never reach the S-rank or be able to challenge you. I can see no more than that.¡±

    Terry gaped at the lit up poster, then at the Whipvine avatar.

    ¡°How can you know that!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Can you¡­see the future?¡±

    It turned back, its expression blank. ¡°Sometimes, but this, I can extrapolate. The possibility of death or failure is always present, but I am describing the highest probability outcome.¡± It turned back to the wall of posters. ¡°If I may continue, I will answer what questions I can after the paths are presented.¡±

    Terry settled back, his heart thumping. ¡°Okay,¡± he replied reluctantly, but so many questions were clawing at his thoughts.

    What about mom? And eclipsing my grandfather¡¯s strength? Forcing him to abdicate? It sounded preposterous. And my father resenting me¡­well, too late.

    The thought hurt, but he turned his attention back to the avatar as it highlighted a second poster. He gasped as he realized it was his mom¡¯s.

    That one! he almost shouted. I pick that one!

    ¡°Your second path,¡± the avatar continued, acting oblivious to his obvious excitement, ¡°is your mother¡¯s path. You will become both powerful and well regarded among your peers. Strength and Presence, hand in hand. You will leave your home behind and the Emperor¡¯s reign will continue on its current trajectory. War and famine will consume Wichita and the region, but not by your hand. The world will move on and no one will blame you for the region¡¯s decline¡­except yourself. I see some regret, but you are able to counterbalance it by achieving much with your power and fame.¡±

    What the¡­is it trying to guilt me into making the first selection? What other reason could it have for saying it like that?

    It moved on, the poster of his mother losing its luster as a third poster was highlighted. He double taked as he looked at the poster that he could have sworn wasn¡¯t there a second earlier.

    It showed him, but not him. It was Terry, but as an adult¡ªmid-twenties, if he had to guess. He stood on a field of white roses, sky dark and the city of Wichita shadowed in the background. Older Terry¡¯s expression looked haunted, wounds covering the exposed skin on his arms and neck, blood seeping through his clothes. But despite that, there was a presence seeping from the poster, a dignity and strength. A sense of purpose that was physically palpable. The poster of his grandfather and mother felt flat in comparison.

    ¡°This is the Resonance, Terry. The choice that most conforms to my conceptualization of you. This is your path¡ªor, as well as I can determine it. But just because it¡¯s yours, does not mean you must select it.¡±

    ¡°Nothing you say makes any sense,¡± Terry finally said, power and presence from the poster of him filling him with an urge to speak. ¡°My mother¡¯s path involves me abandoning Wichita in the pursuit of power? Fame? That wasn¡¯t who she was. And now you¡¯re showing me an image of myself and saying this is my path, but it¡¯s fine if I don¡¯t pick it for reasons you probably won¡¯t explain?¡± He stood up, pacing around the bed as his mind stormed. ¡°I don¡¯t care about power! I don¡¯t care about ruling Wichita!¡± He whirled on the avatar. ¡°I just want to know what happened to my mother!¡±

    The Whipvine simulacrum stared back at him impassively in stark contrast to the real Whipvine¡¯s usual expression. The alienness of it made Terry want to scream. You¡¯re not comforting me, fake Whipvine! You¡¯re just freaking me out!

    ¡°That¡¯s not all you want, is it Terry? If that were the case, I wouldn¡¯t be showing you this path. I heard your plea when I began your Awakening. You want power, asked for it¡ª¡±

    ¡°To do good! To fight evil supers like War Crimes! Not to overthrow my grandfather! And not at the expense of finding out what happened to my mother!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Terry, I understand. And rest assured, I will help you uncover the truth of your mother no matter which of the three paths you take,¡± the avatar reminded him. He felt some of his annoyance begin to settle. ¡°But I make no promises¡ªyou must discover some things on your own. What I will tell you, is this: your Resonance is fraught with danger and clouds my extrapolations more so than the other two paths. However, I am certain you will accomplish your goals with this choice.¡±

    Terry scoffed, waving toward the image of him bloodied and ragged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Kinda looks like I¡¯m getting my ass kicked. You didn¡¯t make it look very appealing.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t make it look appealing or unappealing¡ªit just is. What makes me certain is what I¡¯ve seen. If you choose this path, it will be the most difficult, but will also result in what you perceive as the most just, accomplishing the most good. We call it the Resonance because it is the path of self-actualization. The alignment of your perspective, powers, and my own goals.¡±

    Terry shook his head, fire burning in his gut. ¡°And there it is. Your goals, huh? And what, exactly, are those?¡± The avatar didn¡¯t answer, its expression blank. ¡°This is such bullshit, you know that, right? How can you even know what I want? Is this you seeing the future, or backing me into a corner? What if I make the selfish choice and choose power? Does that bring me out of alignment, hm? My Resonance? My self-actualization? That¡¯s so freakin¡¯ manipulative, it¡¯s ridiculous.¡± He pointed at the avatar, his voice laced with venom. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re not the best judge of what¡¯s right or wrong for me, did you think of that? Maybe the best path is me telling you to go screw yourself.¡±

    The avatar was stoic before his assault, Whipvine¡¯s face a mask of patience.

    ¡°That¡¯s certainly an option,¡± it replied.

    ¡°And then I¡¯ll never know what happened to mom? Yeah, great option there.¡± He whirled away, moving to the window which looked out on a perfect simulation of the Wichitan night before the Emperor¡¯s working. He missed this view so much. Missed walking along the Arkansas river with his mom. Missed living a simple life with no supers trying to kill or kidnap him. Missed a world that made sense.

    That fourth choice loomed before him and he seriously considered it.

    So what if I failed my Awakening? The Emperor would be furious, my father probably as well. Wonder what he would think if he knew one of my choices ended up with me his biggest rival.

    Life could return to what it had always been. I¡¯d be just a boy, maybe not a prince anymore, but that wasn¡¯t necessarily a bad thing.

    But he¡¯d never know what happened to mom¡­no, that wasn¡¯t what stopped him, though that longing ached inside him. The truth hit him in that moment, large and unavoidable.

    I¡¯d never have power¡ªpower to help others, power to help myself. I¡¯d be weak and impotent like I¡¯ve always been.

    He thought back to the System¡¯s words: the Resonance is your path¡­

    Was that bullshit? But why would it say that? Was it trying to turn me away from my family¡¯s paths, whatever the hell that meant?

    He turned back to the avatar, his lips turned down in a frown.

    ¡°Why did you say my Resonance is the most just? What aren¡¯t you saying about this path? Does just mean good or are we still pretending good and evil don¡¯t exist?¡±

    The avatar shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t lie to my Awakened, Terry. The subjectivity we discussed earlier dictate that I present your paths within your own lens of understanding. There is a risk to being too specific, but I will say this about your Resonance: you will help heal a region that would otherwise fall into chaos.¡±

    It waved toward the poster, drawing his eye back to the older version of himself.

    ¡°You become powerful, but not for glory or recognition. You will work from behind the scenes, bringing light and hope to others without asking for anything in return.¡± It turned back to him, an intensity in the eyes that Terry hadn¡¯t spotted before. ¡°Your Resonance is good and even a being as distant as I can agree on that.¡± There was a twinkle in Whipvine¡¯s eye at those words. ¡°I see the Class, the Skills, the Quests to give you that will lead you toward your Resonance.¡± It shrugged, indicating the other two posters with a wave. ¡°But if you choose the recognition of ruling¡ª¡± The poster of Necroton lit up. ¡°¡ªor you choose power and fame¡ª¡± The poster of his mother lit up. ¡°¡ªI will think no less of you and you may yet accomplish much that you and I would both agree is good. My aim is to bring your choice in alignment with both my goals and your own. This, I can accomplish regardless of what path you select.¡±

    He sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to put his thoughts into order.

    ¡°What Class would I be?¡± he asked, indicating the three posters. ¡°Can I know that, at least?¡±Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Summoner, to follow the Emperor¡¯s path. Visionary, your mother¡¯s.¡± That didn¡¯t entirely surprise him¡ªVisionary was adjacent to both Hypnotist and Distorter, his mother¡¯s original and post-Midmark Classes. ¡°And your own Resonance, I see Alterant as the best fit.¡±

    That did surprise him.

    ¡°Alterant? What?¡± Alterant was similar to Catalyst in utility, but was adjacent to Artificer and Amplifier. It wasn¡¯t completely out of left field, as he could possibly transition to Distorter after his Midmark like his mom. But Alterant wasn¡¯t known as one of the powerful Classes. If anything, it generally was middling, on par with Catalyst and Artificer, but less useful than Amplifier or Distorter. Certainly nowhere near as strong as Duelist, Summoner, or Visionary, no matter what Skills he started with.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked. ¡°Alterant is kind of weak for me to be this supposed force of good.¡±

    ¡°Every Awakened starts out weak. But yes, I am sure,¡± the avatar replied. ¡°This is your Resonance.¡±

    You keep saying that¡­

    ¡°Can you tell me what Skills I¡¯ll get? What Quests?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    He thought about pressing the issue, but the System didn¡¯t strike him as one to negotiate.

    ¡°Visionary is really strong,¡± he muttered. ¡°I could pick that, but stay in Wichita and¡ª¡± The avatar shook its head. ¡°What? Why are you shaking your head.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about the Class, but the choice you make. If you choose to follow your mother¡¯s path, I will craft my Quests such that you do not remain in Wichita. The Class isn¡¯t the choice, but the path.¡±

    Terry sighed in defeat. ¡°So you¡¯re not saying I¡¯ll become an asshole by picking Visionary or Summoner. You¡¯re saying that you¡¯ll guide me toward becoming an asshole if I pick those Classes.¡±

    ¡°The Quests I give you will change, but as I¡¯ve said, I¡¯ve extrapolated those futures¡ª¡±

    ¡°Extrapolated that I¡¯ll become an asshole, got it.¡± He scoffed, glancing out the window to look out over Wichita one more time. ¡°Fine. You backed me into a corner, but fine.¡± He looked back, his expression tight. ¡°I make the choice that allows me to do the most good. I want hope to live in Wichita again. I want to help as many people as I can, even if they never know it was me.¡± He stepped toward the avatar. ¡°I think you¡¯re wrong about so many things. I think you¡¯re an alien thing that doesn¡¯t understand humans half as well as you think. But that doesn¡¯t matter. Give me the means to help people. Guide me toward the truth of what happened to my mom. I pick the Resonance.¡±

    Now, the avatar smiled and a shock traced up Terry¡¯s body.

    ¡°Well picked. Talk soon, Terry.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡ª¡±

    He was sucked out of his bedroom, his vision warping inward until it was pitch black once more. A rush of air sounded at his side and he turned his head to gasp in the oxygen gushing from the tube beside him.

    But the sweet feeling of crisp, fresh air only lasted a moment. In his eyes, loomed a series of words. Words that filled him with both fear and hope.

    Welcome to the fight, Awakened. System information can be accessed via mental or verbal command.

    Class Received: Alterant (F)

    Subtype: Genetic-Metaphysical

    -

    New Skill: Metaphysical Analysis (F)

    Use aura to analyze and catalog metaphysical components

    -

    New Skill: Genetic Analysis (F)

    Use aura to analyze and catalog genetic data related to metaphysical components

    -

    New Skill: Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (F)

    Alter genetic and metaphysical components to emulate and affix a previously cataloged power

    Free Affixation Slots: 1 (F)

    -

    Quest Given: [Feed Wichita]

    Grow enough food to supplement Topeka¡¯s inflows.

    Deadline: 276 days remaining until famine riots

    Reward: Variable

    -

    Quest Given: [Assimilate Powers]

    Catalog and assimilate an E-grade or higher Skill

    Reward: E-rank

    -

    Quest Given: [The White Rose]

    Retrieve and decode all extant White Roses.

    Retrieved: [1 of 4]

    Decoded: [0 of 4]

    Reward: Variable

    -

    Attribute Ranks calculating¡­

    -

    Metaphysical component detected¡­

    Metaphysical analysis automatically commenced¡­

    ERROR¡ª

    Metaphysical component exceeds F-rank. User input required¡­

    -

    A stream of information filled his mind, bizarre and incomprehensible. Without even understanding how or why, he knew that his new Metaphysical Analysis Skill was responsible for those last messages. More than that, he knew exactly what metaphysical component the new Skill was attempting to analyze.

    His aura had warped of its own accord, encompassing the aura of the rose still clutched tight between his fingers. The Skill shifted his aura automatically, pushing it out until it had blanketed the rose like a thin film. He could feel it trying to shift the rose¡¯s aura, seep into the leverage points as it attempted to decipher the power-based components. But that last message was clear enough; the Skill was F-rank while the rose was created by his A-ranked mother. Even if she had created it earlier in the rankings, it was clearly after the F-rank.

    A mental prompting was flickering in his mind, inviting him to regard the Skill as it waited for him to guide the analyzing process. Without realizing how, he knew that he could abort the Skill, let it go or redirect it toward a new metaphysical target. He released it now, turning his attention to the other Skills he had acquired.

    With a thought, he activated the Genetic Analysis Skill and felt his aura shift of its own accord. But instead of wrapping around the rose like Metaphysical Analysis had, he instead felt a sort of mental block. The Skill released, his aura retreating as a new message appeared in his vision.

    Analysis blocked by metaphysical cipher. Continue Metaphysical Analysis?

    -

    He released the Skill with a frown. If I¡¯m understanding this right, I need to break or decode the metaphysical cipher¡ªthe rose¡¯s aura, I think¡ªbefore I can begin analyzing the genetic data. But what would that accomplish?

    Whatever the case, the Quest he had received was clear: there was something to decode within the roses. The memories his mother had locked away seemed the most likely candidate.

    He found his mind drawn away from that mystery, the very first Quest he received looming large in his vision.

    Feed Wichita¡­now that, I wasn¡¯t expecting.

    But what was even more concerning was the deadline below. 276 days until famine riots. This must have been what the System was referring to when they said I would be doing good; feeding Wichita. The question was: how?

    What could I do that my father or the Emperor couldn¡¯t? I couldn¡¯t tell the Emperor about the impending famine riots because of Rule One.

    The frustration of all the Rules loomed in the back of his mind, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of giddiness, too.

    I¡¯m a super now!

    He regarded his new Skills one more time, fixating specifically on the Affixation one. If he was understanding the description correctly, he¡¯d be able to replicate powers that he successfully analyzed! He had never even considered the possibility. That wasn¡¯t something Alterant was known for. But the possible powersets, even within the same Class, were vast and poorly categorized for non-Awakened.

    Which he wasn¡¯t anymore. He was Awakened! He was a super!

    What¡¯s the first power I¡¯m going to catalog? Judging from the prompt I just received, I should be able to catalog powers even above the F-grade. But will I be able to use them?

    The first thing his mind snapped to was the rose still clutched blindly in his fingers. It had his mother¡¯s imprint! Could he both decode the contents of the rose and learn to emulate her abilities?

    That single possibility filled him with such hope and longing that he didn¡¯t dwell on the bleak nature of his Feed Wichita Quest. He had time to unpack that and draft up a plan of approach.

    He turned his Metaphysical Analysis Skill back on with a thought and accepted the prompting to provide his input to the Skill. Immediately, he discovered that this wasn¡¯t a simple task by any means. The imprint of his mother¡¯s aura was both vast and complicated, like the folds of an origami but with a metaphysical weight that he had to strain to unpack.

    Sounds outside the pitch-black coffin drew his attention away, bringing him back to the terrifying realization that he had been suffocated to trigger his Awakening. More than that, he would now have to face his father and grandfather knowing what he knew.

    How was your Awakening, grandson?

    Oh¡­good. The System offered me the opportunity to overthrow you and take your throne¡­

    He just hoped this wouldn¡¯t be too awkward. At least he could fall back on Rule Five as explanation for not going into detail. For the first time, he appreciated the merit of these ridiculous Rules.

    The thud of boots hitting the coffin¡¯s wooden lid drew him back, the harsh light of the chamber filtering in through the seams. A moment later, the lid was hauled back, spilling dirt into his face and eyes. He held up a hand to shield his face, then suddenly remembered the rose he had been clutching so tightly. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, the thorns tearing at his skin.

    Standing above him was his father, his eyes searching, an obvious question on his lips. His eyes tracked down to Terry¡¯s feet, noting the bone blade he had discarded as soon as the lid had been shut. They flicked back, and Terry wondered if his father would scold him for his obvious defiance.

    But then Terry¡¯s eyes adjusted to the light and he saw the System reticule at the same time as he saw the smile touch his father¡¯s lips.

    A corona encased his father, information appearing next to him like a nameplate in a sim.

    Awakened recognized. Filling in data from previous interactions¡­

    Information categorized¡­

    -

    Name: James Fairway

    Class: Summoner

    Overall Rank: A (Unconfirmed)

    Individual Attribute Ranks: No Data

    Combat Capabilities: Compiling¡­

    Relevant Data: Compiling¡­

    -

    Whatever he had expected, it hadn¡¯t been that. Having a nameplate hovering over his father with his Class, Rank, and all that was fascinating and distracting. He wondered what his father saw hovering over him.

    But more than that, he was taken aback by that pure look of joy on his father¡¯s face. It was rare, incongruous with his expectations. It looked almost like¡­pride.

    ¡°Congratulations, Terry. Welcome to the fight.¡±

 Chapter 28: Pawns on the Board

    Welcome to the fight¡­Those had been the words the System had said after he¡¯d chosen his path. That had to be a common phrase among the Awakened.

    ¡°Uh, thanks?¡± Terry replied, pushing up to a sit. ¡°That was insane¡ª¡±

    Warning! Revealing information about your Awakening will result in consequences.

    He cut off, staring at those words. The shock was immediately replaced with annoyance.

    His father scoffed. ¡°Let me guess? Got a warning message?¡±

    Terry looked up in surprise. ¡°Yeah, how¡¯d you know?¡±

    ¡°Everyone gets them while they¡¯re acclimating. Best not to talk about the Awakening until you¡¯ve had some time to process.¡±

    The warning continued to flash in his vision, so he thought about dismissing it and it flashed once more before disappearing.

    ¡°Here, take my hand. My legs were shaky after my Awakening.¡± His father reached down, his hand extended before Terry.

    The man was being so casual, his tone friendly and encouraging. It almost lulled Terry into forgetting the anger and pain of the last six months. No, even the last six minutes before he¡¯d climbed into the coffin had been terrible. He couldn¡¯t let himself forget that his own father had blasted him with his aura right before his own Awakening.

    I almost let my guard slip down. That won¡¯t happen again.

    He accepted his father¡¯s hand, his mind shielded once more.

    Metaphysical component detected¡­

    Metaphysical analysis automatically commenced¡­

    ERROR¡ª

    Metaphysical component exceeds F-rank. User input required¡­

    He froze halfway to a stand, his father¡¯s hand still clenched tight. James himself seemed to notice his Skill¡¯s activation as well, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

    ¡°Hmmm, well I see you didn¡¯t get Summoner,¡± the man said with a hint of disappointment. ¡°Let me guess, Distorter? I feel your aura trying to hijack mine.¡±

    For a second, his instinct had been not to reveal his Class. All his life, supers had maintained a sense of secrecy and reluctance in discussing details of their powers. Even among family, he had never been allowed to hear about the actual Skill names¡ªonly see them in practice. He understood now why that had been the case; the System put these restrictions on the Awakened, made it impossible for them to discuss the specifics with normies.

    But he wasn¡¯t a normie, not anymore.

    ¡°Well, actually, no.¡± James¡¯ eyes narrowed. ¡°I received Alterant.¡±

    ¡°Alt¡­you¡¯re joking?¡±

    He bristled at that, pulling his hand away as he stood up in the coffin. ¡°Why would I be joking?¡±

    James¡¯ lips set, his aura shifting. ¡°Don¡¯t get defensive, Terry. I¡¯m just¡ª¡±

    He cut across his father¡¯s words, the anger from before the Awakening rekindling.

    ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t I be defensive? Do you remember attacking me right before my Awakening?¡± His father¡¯s face dropped and he felt emboldened. ¡°How about the part where you forgot I existed for six months. Remember that? Maybe if I¡¯d gotten Summoner, you¡¯d still love me.¡±

    ¡°Terry¡ª¡±

    ¡°But sorry dad, I¡¯m just a useless Alterant. You should be celebrating! Maybe if I¡¯d gotten Summoner, your father would forget you existed¡ª¡±

    Warning! Revealing information about your Awakening will result in consequences.

    He clamped his mouth shut, his chest heaving as he faced his father. James¡¯ face was tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he regarded Terry. After a moment of tense silence, he spoke.

    ¡°Is it my turn?¡±

    Terry shrugged indifferently, his eyes tracking down to the bone blade laying at the foot of the coffin. He reached down and tossed it out of the hole as his father spoke.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to be rude about your Class, Terry. I was surprised because it¡¯s not adjacent to Summoner or Hypnotist. And yes, I am concerned about your grandfather¡¯s reaction.¡± He reached out, putting a hand on Terry¡¯s arm, startling the boy enough to make him look back at his father¡¯s face. ¡°But if you received Alterant, it¡¯s for a reason. I understand that. Will you tell me about your Skills while we walk back to the throne room?¡±

    His emotions warred inside him, but he kept his aura reeled in tight. It galled him that his father¡¯s entire demeanor had shifted post-Awakening; made him feel like he hadn¡¯t mattered until he mattered. But he also couldn¡¯t deny that he had missed the man¡ªwho he used to be, at least. Had missed that stalwart presence, that feeling of safety and assurance whenever he was around.

    But there was still so much to be said first.

    His voice was tight, barely a whisper.

    ¡°Tell me why. Why did you leave me? Why¡ª¡± He cut off, the old emotions he had thought he¡¯d buried clawing their way to the surface.

    I¡¯m not a kid anymore, dammit! Supers don¡¯t cry. Lock it down and face him like an adult. No, face him like the hero you¡¯re going to be.

    He felt buoyed by that thought, standing taller, turning his eyes to lock onto the man he had once idolized.

    Only to falter as he noticed the glistening in his father¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Terry, I¡ª¡± His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    He felt his mind tremble, his thoughts whiplashed by those words. Six months he had waited.

    The wait had been worth it.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± his father repeated. ¡°Your mother¡¯s death broke me, son.¡± The tears finally fell, cutting down his cheeks. ¡°It broke me and I couldn¡¯t face you. You look so much like her, I couldn¡¯t¡ª¡± He turned his back to Terry, his hand propped against the grave wall.

    The sense of deja vu hit him so powerfully, he nearly froze. Just as he had frozen the last time his father had been so open. He felt the inflection point now, like a charged feeling in the air. Terry had made mistakes too. Hadn¡¯t understood that his father was just a man. Beneath all the dignity and power, beneath the bone mask, was just a man.

    He reached out, his hand clasping his father¡¯s shoulder. James flinched and Terry almost pulled his hand back. But a moment later, his father reached up and grabbed it, turning to face him. Without realizing it, Terry¡¯s own tears had started flowing. Instinct and need took over and he threw himself into his father¡¯s arms. They wrapped around him, holding him tight and for a single moment, he was able to forgive the man for everything.

    But moments were transitory and eventually, this one, too, passed. There were too many open questions for him to forgive and forget. He pulled away, feeling a fire in his own eyes that he¡¯d never experienced before.

    ¡°What happened to mom?¡± His voice carried a cold steel, his aura shaped into the unyielding demand the way Crunch had taught him¡ªcompressed into sharp point, jabbed forward in a way that couldn¡¯t be ignored. It was just short of an attack, the most fervent aura shape he could muster.

    His father reeled back, from the aura shape or the question, he couldn¡¯t say. But James recovered a moment later, his lips pursed.

    ¡°Your aura command is amazing for your age.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t deflect.¡±

    James looked off, seeming to study the blackwood coffin at their feet. When he looked back, there was an anger in his eyes¡ªnot directed at Terry, but there all the same.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you.¡±

    Terry felt his own anger rising, but his father raised a hand.

    ¡°No, Terry. I mean I literally can¡¯t tell you. That should be telling in and of itself¡­¡±

    His anger drained away, his mouth slack as the realization hit him.

    ¡°It¡¯s a Quest!¡± The realization caused him to reel away, his thoughts in turmoil. ¡°That¡¯s the reason,¡± he muttered. ¡°It¡¯s a goddamn System restriction!¡± His voice rose at the end, the anger redirected toward those enigmatic Wakers. ¡°It¡¯s always been the System, hasn¡¯t it? This is how they control us? By siloing us, isolating us from each other so we don¡¯t know who to trust, who¡¯s the¡ª¡±

    Warning! Revealing information about your Awakening will result in consequences.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    He looked up toward the sky¡ªhe didn¡¯t know why, but he needed a direction to vent his anger.

    ¡°Fuck you!¡± he shouted. ¡°Fuck your consequences!¡±

    ¡°Terry.¡± His father rushed to him, both hands gripping his arms. ¡°Don¡¯t! I mean it. Don¡¯t. These beings are not to be tested.¡± There was steel in his father¡¯s voice, ripping him out of his burgeoning tantrum. ¡°I know this from experience. If you ever trusted me, trust me about this.¡± The green of his father¡¯s eyes flickered like ethereal flame as he stared into Terry¡¯s own eyes. ¡°Do not press the System on this. I¡¯m begging you.¡± The worry slipped into his father¡¯s voice, a desperation that shocked him silent for a moment.

    When he recovered, his voice felt weak, the strength and elation of his new powers drained from him. ¡°It can¡¯t be like this,¡± he muttered, searching his father¡¯s eyes. ¡°This can¡¯t be the truth of it all.¡±

    James nodded, the sadness in his face echoing Terry¡¯s own. ¡°It is¡­and it isn¡¯t. The burden of these secrets are a lot to bear. Sometimes, they tear friends and families apart. But sometimes, those bonds only appear broken.¡± He put his arm around Terry¡¯s shoulders, giving him a squeeze. ¡°Healing those bonds takes time and effort, but they will heal.¡± He gave Terry a playful shove. ¡°And the power is nice, too. I know you¡¯ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time. Try not to simmer in the hard parts right now. Enjoy the new strength. Experiment with your powers. I envy you, actually. Getting to experience your powers for the first time is better than s¡ª¡± He cut off, clearing his throat suddenly. ¡°We, um, we should get going. The Emperor will be waiting.¡±

    Terry gave his father a wry smile, his tone playful. ¡°Better than what?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± James replied, his tone coy. ¡°Nothing, Terry.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fourteen, dad. I know what sex is.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what¡ª¡± He cut off, realizing how unconvincing he sounded. With a chuckle he nodded. ¡°Sorry, sometimes I forget you¡¯re not a kid anymore. You¡¯re an Awakened, son.¡± The pride boomed in his voice. ¡°You¡¯re an Awakened! So what if Alterant isn¡¯t nearly as cool as Summoner¡ª¡±

    Terry punched his father¡¯s shoulder with a grin and James laughed.

    ¡°I¡¯m kidding, I¡¯m kidding.¡± His face turned serious, and Terry felt his own wry grin drop. ¡°No, seriously Terry. I¡¯m proud of you. Whatever your Skills are, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll use them to accomplish amazing things.¡±

    Thinking about his Skills brought his mind back to his Quests. The playfulness was sapped away by the realization that he couldn¡¯t tell his father about them; couldn¡¯t seek his help or advice. He needed to figure out how to feed Wichita on his own. Which was daunting enough. But somehow, he also needed to find the four white roses his mother had created¡ªwithout telling anyone the reason why!

    His father seemed to sense the shift in his mood. He tapped Terry¡¯s arm to get his attention, then flexed his legs and leaped out of the hole in a single motion. When he turned back, he had a childlike grin on his face.

    ¡°Come on, Terry. You¡¯re never gonna be able to do that someday if you spend the rest of your life simmering down there.¡± He crouched, holding his hand out for Terry. ¡°This is the last time you¡¯ll need help climbing out of a hole.¡±

    His father knew Alterant wasn¡¯t a physical Class¡ªthat was common knowledge, even to normies. But even the non-physical Classes vastly outstripped regular humans at a breakneck pace. The thought of being able to leap six feet in the air with the casualness his father had just demonstrated filled him with longing.

    He reached up and clasped hands, feeling the strength in the man¡¯s hand as he hauled Terry up. That same Skill message filled his vision as they touched, but he dismissed it with a thought.

    Out of the hole, he spotted Hoping Tree and the other unnamed lich. Their auras lit up in his eyes, coronas of light that possessed a metaphysical weight that he could actually feel.

    ¡°Welcome back, Prince Terry,¡± Hoping Tree said. ¡°Your aura is strong. Am I correct in saying that you received an aura-based Class?¡±

    He nodded, opening his own aura as he approached Hoping Tree. ¡°Sort of. I¡¯m an Alterant. I¡¯m still figuring things out.¡±

    Hoping Tree¡¯s aura reached to meet his and he reached back, shaping his aura into the greeting gesture¡ªone of the earliest shapes Crunch had taught him. Before his Awakening, he had considered it like a U-shape, the other participant¡¯s aura matching as they slotted together¡ªalmost like a handshake. He had performed the greeting shape with Crunch so many times, thinking he had understood the bones of the gesture well enough.

    But as one of the prongs of Hoping Tree¡¯s U slotted into the empty space of his aura, and likewise his with the lich¡¯s own shape, he realized just how dull his senses had been.

    Images and emotions filtered in through the contact points, like open pores releasing pheromones from Hoping Tree¡¯s aura into his own. He felt the lich¡¯s pride in his people, the loyalty to the Emperor, and his happiness for Terry¡¯s Awakening. Beneath those surface thoughts, he saw that same tree, standing hopefully on that single hill, alone and unbent¡ªthe lich¡¯s namesake. Though the information coming through was nearly overwhelming, it wasn¡¯t unfiltered; Terry realized that Hoping Tree was directing which thoughts and feelings slipped through the contact. But he could tell that lying would be difficult through this aura touch, require a meticulous care to craft very specific thoughts and emotions.

    It was almost too open and it scared Terry. He pulled back, having kept his own aura tight so that nothing accidental filtered through.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said suddenly. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t expect that.¡±

    ¡°Do not apologize, young prince. The greeting shape can be startlingly intimate for newly Awakened. It is not always such.¡±

    He nodded, feeling overwhelmed with all the new experiences of the last few minutes. His father stepped to his side, pulling his attention from Hoping Tree.

    ¡°We better get going. The others will be waiting for us.¡±

    Sudden anxiety spiked, a heavy feeling in his stomach. He¡¯d have to face the Emperor, knowing what he knew about Wichita, the paths the System had offered him, and more. He¡¯d have to explain his new Class and Skills, even though he barely understood them himself.

    His skin flushed at the thought, his heart pounding in his chest.

    A hand gripped his shoulder, anchoring him.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, Terry. Tell me about your Skills while we walk.¡±

    My Skills¡­The thought thrilled him. It had finally happened, he was finally a superhero.

    Or, at least, he had powers. Becoming a hero would happen in time.

    ¡°They¡¯re not what I expected,¡± he said as they left the chamber. He gave a wave as the two liches stayed behind. ¡°I received a subtype for my Class¡ª¡± He turned to his father. ¡°Is that normal?¡±

    James¡¯ lip turned up in a smile. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s normal. You can think of that as a specialization track. It¡¯s chosen for you by the System at first. But when we rank up, we¡¯re usually given choices.¡± He stopped, noting the frown on Terry¡¯s face. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°That word,¡± Terry replied. ¡°Choices.¡± He half-expected a System warning to pop up, but when it didn¡¯t he continued¡ªmaking sure he stayed circumspect. ¡°I know I can¡¯t talk about it, but¡­¡± He cut off, shaking his head as he tried to find the words. ¡°It feels like¡­I¡¯m a piece on the board. And not a powerful piece.¡± He turned to look at his father as they walked. ¡°Does that feeling of powerlessness ever go away?¡±

    James¡¯ chewed his lip, a pensive look on his face. After a moment of silence, Terry snorted.

    ¡°I think your silence is answer enough.¡±

    His father shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not that¡­I¡¯m just wondering how to phrase this. I won¡¯t lie to you, Terry, there¡¯s a heavy weight we all bear when we join this fight. And sometimes, it does feel like we¡¯re pawns being sacrificed to the broader game. But¡­¡± He hesitated, looking off as they walked.

    ¡°But what?¡± Terry prompted.

    When James cut his gaze back toward Terry, there was a sharpness to his eyes, a youthful exuberance that Terry had never seen before.

    ¡°But sometimes, Terry¡­sometimes you¡¯re the piece that puts the opponent¡¯s king into check. Sometimes, you see the entire game laid out before you and your role comes into perspective. There can be a¡­beauty in being an integral part of something greater than yourself.¡± James¡¯ shrugged, an embarrassed smile on his face. ¡°It sounds silly, I know¡ª¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°No. It doesn¡¯t sound silly.¡±

    They walked in silence for a few moments, then his dad chuckled.

    ¡°We were talking about your Skills. Alterant, huh? What exactly are you altering, then?¡±

    Terry was happy to change the subject back to something less heady. With a thought, he found himself able to pull up the description of his Skills. ¡°The descriptions aren¡¯t very explicit. It seems like I have two analysis Skills that help feed the third Skill.¡±

    His father nodded. ¡°That sounds right. Tell me about the primary Skill, then.¡±

    Terry read the description once more.

    Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (F)

    Alter genetic and metaphysical components to emulate and affix a previously cataloged power

    Free Affixation Slots: 1 (F)

    ¡°It¡¯s called Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation,¡± he said, his eyes trailing over the space before him as he read. ¡°It says: alter genetic and metaphysical components to emul¡ª¡±

    His father gasped and Terry turned in surprise. James¡¯ eyes were wide, though he recovered quickly, clearing his throat.

    ¡°What?¡± Terry asked. ¡°Is that bad¡­?¡±

    James snorted, shaking his head. ¡°No, son. Affixations are incredibly powerful. They¡¯re not as powerful as mutation-based powers, but are more versatile. From the sounds of it, you¡¯ll be able to affix certain powers. Read the rest to me, will you.¡±

    Terry did, reading each of the Skills verbatim as his father listened raptly. When he was done, James walked in silence for a moment, and Terry resisted the urge to prompt the man.

    When James did break the silence, it was with a bit of awe in his voice.

    ¡°Terry, I¡¯m not gonna lie, I was hoping you¡¯d get Summoner. For selfish reasons, sure, but also because I knew you¡¯d have the best teacher in the world in your grandfather. And yes, Alterant has a bit of an underpowered reputation. But son¡­¡± He stopped and turned to Terry. ¡°I think you just received one of the most flexible powersets I¡¯ve ever heard of.¡±

    The revelation rocked him back on his heels. He had been feeling insecure after his father¡¯s gut reaction. But hearing the man validate his Alterant Skills finally put him at ease.

    ¡°You really think so?¡± Terry asked.

    James nodded, his eyebrows raised. ¡°Very much so. You remember Null? He¡¯s the closest comparison I can think of to your powerset.¡±

    Of course Terry knew about Null¡ªhe had been considered one of the strongest supers in the world until his death.

    ¡°Sure, but he was a Visionary¡ª¡± James tilted his head in doubt. ¡°¡ªwasn¡¯t he¡­?¡±

    ¡°That was his Capstone Class. He Awakened as an Alterant, then transitioned to Distorter post-Midmark.¡±

    Terry reeled at the revelation. Everyone had always thought Null was a single-Class super. HeroWatch had lied to him! But the comparison didn¡¯t track¡ªNull hadn¡¯t done anything remotely close to replicating powers.

    ¡°Why is he the closest comparison?¡± Terry asked. ¡°I thought he could negate powers, not replicate them.¡±

    ¡°That was what he let us think. He understood how dangerous it would be to reveal his actual powerset.¡±

    ¡°What was his actual powerset?¡±

    ¡°He could negate powers, but that was just a symptom. It came out later that he was able to alter a super¡¯s aura. No one likes their powers being affected, but this went one step further.¡± The steel in his father¡¯s eyes was unnerving, that green fire burning bright as they bored into him. ¡°He was able to alter a super¡¯s aura permanently, strip them of their powers forever¡­an affixation. As soon as that came to light, a coalition of S-rankers hunted him down.¡±

    ¡°I thought he died during a Summons!¡±

    James tilted his head, a skeptical look on his face.

    ¡°He was¡­assassinated?¡±

    ¡°Sure was.¡±

    He felt his pulse pounding in his throat. ¡°Bu-but that¡¯s not what my power does at all! Mine just seems to replicate!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying this to scare you, Terry.¡± Too late, he thought. ¡°It¡¯s just that that word, affixation, has connotations within the super community that you want to avoid. In fact, I think it¡¯s best if you¡­¡± James bit his lip in thought for a moment. ¡°Omit some details.¡±

    ¡°Omit? From who?¡± The seriousness in James¡¯ eyes told Terry exactly from who he was implying. He opened his mouth to protest, but his father held out a hand.

    ¡°One second, don¡¯t say anything.¡±

    He froze in surprise as his father¡¯s eyes went unfocused. A moment later, a notification popped in view.

    James Fairway of Wichita has requested a private channel. Accept?

    ¡°Wha-what¡¯s that?¡± Terry asked.

    ¡°The System provides conveniences for us. One of those being private chats. No one can see what you say in these chats¡ªnot even the Emperor. But keep in mind, the restrictions given by the System still apply.¡±

    Terry regarded that notification for another second, then mentally accepted.

    Words began scrolling across his eyes, blocking his vision. With a thought, he found he was able to move their location off to the side so they were less obtrusive.

    <blockquote>

    [James]: We can talk here. You can indicate the chat window with a thought, then think the words you want to say. Another mental command will send them to the recipient.

    [Terrence Fairway II]: You don¡¯t really think it would be unsafe to tell grandfather about my affixation Skill, do you?

    [Terrence Fairway II]: And how do I change this name!? Terrence Fairway II?

    [James]: I¡¯ll show you how after your Status Sheet finishes compiling. Usually only take an hour or so.

    [James]: And to answer your other question¡­I¡¯m not sure how the Emperor will react¡­He¡¯s been increasingly erratic since he left me in Topeka. I¡­I wouldn¡¯t take the risk.

    We can alter the details slightly to make it less threatening.

    </blockquote>

    Terry turned away from the chat and focused his eyes back on his father. The worry was impossible to miss in the furtive shift of his eyes.

    ¡°What¡¯d you have in mind?¡± he asked out loud.

    <blockquote>

    [James]: Don¡¯t say anything about affixation. Here¡¯s what we say instead¡­

    </blockquote>

 Chapter 29: The Third White Rose

    The Emperor reclined in his throne, plain-clothed and unmasked. All the non-Awakened relatives and undead had left after the initial congratulations. Now, only the revenants and Terry¡¯s father were in attendance. Behind the Emperor, Whipvine had an ear-to-ear grin as they conversed back and forth via System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Whipvine]: I¡¯m proud of you, kiddo! Even if you did get a pansy-ass Class like Alterant!

    [Terrence Fairway II]: Hah, thanks old man!

    </blockquote>

    Mesmer had also sent him a private chat request, though his congratulations were more subdued. Terry was feeling the distance that had begun to grow after his father had remained in Topeka.

    <blockquote>

    [Mesmer]: Welcome to the fight, Terry. I can¡¯t wait to hear more about your Skills.

    [Terrence Fairway II]: Thanks, Mes.

    </blockquote>

    He pulled his attention from the series of chats to focus on his grandfather. The Emperor had seemed less than impressed with his Class, his lips pursed in disappointment that he didn¡¯t care to hide. He had shown some slight interest toward Terry¡¯s third Skill, but only to clarify the usecase.

    ¡°So you think you¡¯ll be able to alter your DNA to do what, exactly?¡± The Emperor¡¯s tone was skeptical.

    Terry shrugged, keeping his expression tight so his grandfather wouldn¡¯t notice just how nervous he was. It was one thing to game plan this conversation with his father beforehand, and entirely another to blatantly lie to not only the Emperor, but all the powerful revenants that regarded him with a mix of pride, interest, and boredom.

    The only revenant whose reaction he hadn¡¯t anticipated, was War Crimes. The man¡¯s usual arrogant smirk was gone, replaced with a piercing look that seemed to see through his subterfuge. Fletcher was a Duelist, so his aura sense shouldn¡¯t have been heightened enough to perceive emotional fluctuations from across the throne room, but Terry kept his aura in tight and controlled regardless.

    If he¡¯d learned anything in the past five minutes, it was that you never knew a super¡¯s true powerset¡ªonly what they wanted you to know.

    He turned his focus away from War Crimes and back to the Emperor.

    ¡°I believe I¡¯ll be able to alter my body to enhance its strength, toughness, and possibly even its shape.¡± He purposefully didn¡¯t mention the metaphysical component of his Skill or the Affixation aspect. Let them think he was a physical mutation type super. Harmless to them, the opposite of a threat. ¡°I might even be able to achieve Duelist level Attribute rankings eventually. Maybe I can learn to grow gills and breathe underwater? Increase the density of my organs to survive the ocean depths? Or maybe I can learn how to survive in a vacuum for short periods of time? Who knows?¡±

    I might even be able to do all those things, he thought. Eventually¡­

    ¡°I see,¡± the Emperor replied with a practically disinterested tone. As soon as Terry had mentioned Alterant, he¡¯d seen the light go out of his grandfather¡¯s eyes. The man had wanted Summoner¡ªthat much was obvious. If only he knew what choosing that path would have led to. ¡°It¡¯s a shame you didn¡¯t follow in your family¡¯s footsteps. Though I do acknowledge the potential utility of such a powerset. I¡¯ll reserve judgment for now.¡± He turned to his left, facing Whipvine, the Professor, and the Iron Maiden. ¡°Patricia, as a Catalyst, you¡¯ll oversee my grandson¡¯s power education.¡± Terry flinched at the declaration, while the Iron Maiden bristled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. ¡°Set up a schedule and send me weekly updates.¡± His grandfather turned back to Terry, but the Iron Maiden stepped forward, drawing his gaze back.

    Her voice was husky, like a lifetime of booze and smoke had eroded her throat. It was a sound that Terry couldn¡¯t recall ever hearing, now that he thought about it. ¡°My Emperor, I am a poor teacher. The Professor knows just as much as¡ª¡±

    His voice cut across her, and for the first time, Terry could actually sense his grandfather¡¯s aura flare. It stretched out like a viper, engulfing the Iron Maiden¡¯s aura like a clenched fist. She flinched at the touch, her nose furling in a snarl.

    ¡°Practical experience trumps academic understanding, Patricia.¡± The aura touch shifted to Terry¡¯s senses, a tendril of something passing through to invade the Iron Maiden¡¯s aura.

    Metaphysical component detect¡ª

    He flicked away the notification and dismissed the Skill. If he let it run its course, his own aura would reach out and try to analyze his grandfather¡¯s¡ªthere¡¯d be no hiding that. But he couldn¡¯t deny it, he felt a thrill of excitement at the realization that he could analyze his grandfather¡¯s power, even from a distance. Not only could he analyze it, he could detect it. Meaning that he¡¯d be able to detect other super¡¯s powers as they activated! The revelation opened up a whole new aspect of his powers and aura sense.

    His grandfather had continued talking, but Terry had missed it in his excitement.

    ¡°As you command, my Emperor,¡± the Iron Maiden ground out, her jaw visibly clenching. Then, her gaze turned to Terry with a burning fire, silver specks of magic swirling in her eyes. He flinched under that stare, feeling the anger and hate like a force.

    He realized that it wasn¡¯t him that she hated, but his grandfather. And he could finally understand why.

    The man had flexed his power over her to force her compliance. That would make anyone furious. Which makes me wonder, why do Mesmer, Whipvine, and the Professor seem content in their service to grandfather, while War Crimes, the Iron Maiden, and Savage clearly hate the man?

    Is it the nature of how they were turned? Or does he flex his power more over some than others? He supposed it made sense; his grandfather had turned War Crimes and the Iron Maiden after they went on supervillain rampages. And Savage had obviously been taken whilst trying to kidnap Terry.

    Now that he thought about it, he didn¡¯t know the circumstances of how Whipvine, Mesmer, or the Professor had been turned. Maybe it had been amicable¡ªwhich sounded bizarre, but he could see it in very specific circumstances. Or maybe they just didn¡¯t buck against the Emperor¡¯s control and so didn¡¯t invite reprisals like he had just seen the Iron Maiden endure?

    He tabled the thought, turning his attention back to his grandfather as the man rose from his throne.

    ¡°Congratulations, grandson. Now that you¡¯ve Awakened, we can confirm the details of your Awakening celebration. The parade will occur tomorrow at noon, followed by a more intimate party in the evening.¡± Terry felt his stomach flip as he realized what a parade meant. They were going to march him through the city in this fog? Would people even come? ¡°The Council has already RSVP¡¯d, as well as Team Dallas.¡± Now Terry¡¯s anxiety really spiked. The Council! Team Dallas! ¡°Dancer has marked himself as tentative¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dancer!¡± Terry blurted out, then withered in on himself as he realized he¡¯d just interrupted his grandfather in front of everyone.

    ¡°Tentative,¡± his grandfather repeated, passing over the interruption with only a slight frown. ¡°This shouldn¡¯t require saying, but freshly Awakened sometimes grow careless in their excitement.¡± The Emperor strode down the dais, approaching Terry with an aura that dwarfed his own. The man wasn¡¯t flexing it or extending it to intimidate Terry¡ªit was just that much more, even placid and inert. Terry instinctively inclined his head as his grandfather approached, but not before noticing the dismissive glance he sent toward Terry¡¯s father who had stood silently at his side. ¡°Though we are inviting foreign powers into our home, they are not your friends. When you discuss your Awakening, you are only to offer your Class. The specifics of your Skills are family secrets, understood?¡±

    ¡°Yes, grandfather.¡±

    ¡°Good. With that said, congratulations again, Terry.¡± He strode up to Terry, his eyes burning green as they came face-to-face. A small smile touched his grandfather¡¯s lips, surprising Terry for how out of place it seemed. He extended a hand and Terry glanced at it in shock, not immediately registering it for what it was. When his brain finally cleared through the fog of shock, he clasped hands with his grandfather for the first time in his life. His grandfather¡¯s grip was tight as he leaned in close, his voice low. ¡°And welcome to the fight.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    He flicked away the Skill notification one more time as his grandfather departed.

    That¡¯s getting really annoying¡­

    After his grandfather left the throne room, the other revenants approached to offer their congratulations¡ªwith varying levels of excitement or borderline hostility, depending on the person.

    Patricia¡ªthe Iron Maiden¡ªwas the first to approach, her face clenched tight, her aura opaque and withdrawn.

    His stomach fluttered as she approached and she held out her hand with obvious reticence.

    Metaphysical component detected¡­

    He dismissed the notification and released the Skill on instinct.

    ¡°Congratulations, Prince Terry,¡± she ground out, her eyes flicking to James briefly. ¡°We¡¯ll begin our sessions next Monday at dawn. I¡¯ll come to you.¡± She brushed past him before he could respond.

    Dawn¡­? Now that was just cruel. He was more of a night person, though now that he thought about it, it was pretty much night all the time¡­

    He was chuckling to himself at the realization, when War Crimes approached.

    The doubtful look from earlier was replaced with his usual arrogant smile as he regarded both Terry and James.

    ¡°Alterant, huh? What a strange first Class for the son of a Summoner and a Distorter. Wouldn¡¯t you say, Prince James?¡± The whites of his teeth were bared as he regarded Terry¡¯s father.

    What was he driving at? Terry wondered. Was he implying that I received a crappy Class when I should have been something immediately useful?

    ¡°Fletcher,¡± his father growled. ¡°What use is a powerful Class when you¡¯re dead? Move along now, little revenant. We¡¯ve no time for your games.¡±

    War Crimes¡¯ smug smile didn¡¯t waver in the slightest and Terry tentatively opened his aura sense to see if he could parse the revenant¡¯s mood via his aura. With a shock, he realized that War Crimes¡¯ aura was barely visible, a thin veneer wrapped around most of his body, whereas everyone else he¡¯d examined wore it like a thick cloak. But then a flicker of the man¡¯s hands drew his eye and he couldn¡¯t help but lean in curiously.

    The aura around War Crimes¡¯ hands was condensed, thick and powerful in stark contrast to the rest of his body. The revenant seemed to notice his attention and held his hands up at eye level.

    ¡°Admiring my tools?¡± He chuckled. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to show the prince how to shoot if he were interested.¡±

    Before Terry could respond, his father stepped forward, his voice low.

    ¡°I told you to move along.¡±

    War Crimes spared another half-second to smile at Terry before he stepped back and bowed low¡ªhis face a mask of mockery.

    ¡°As you wish, my prince.¡±

    Then the man was past and Terry glanced back to watch him go.

    What had that been about?

    Before he could ask his father, the Professor approached, her eyes focused for once.

    ¡°Congratulations, Prince Terry! Alterant is a fascinating Class with much unexplored potential!¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Professor.¡± He opened his senses once more, examining the Professor in a new light. On a hunch, he directed his attention to her head and was pleased to see his speculation was correct.

    A corona of power encased what he assumed was her brain, concentrated there while the rest of her aura was weak in comparison. He had a desperate urge to reach out and activate his Skill, but restrained himself. She moved past and Whipvine and Mesmer approached together.

    Whipvine slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder and that familiar notification appeared.

    Metaphysical component detected¡­

    He released it once more, but not before noting that Whipvine had a similar aura concentration in his hands that extended past his wrists and stopped right before his elbow. Terry had a suspicion now of what he was seeing, but it was a question he could ask his father when they were alone.

    ¡°Welcome to the fight, Terry!¡± Whipvine¡¯s voice was boisterous and full of open joy. He chuckled, lightly punching James with a familiarity that spoke of decades of friendship. ¡°Told you he wouldn¡¯t get Summoner. Pay up!¡±

    Terry whirled on his father, whose expression was tight and humorless. ¡°You bet on what Class I¡¯d get?¡±

    The man looked down at him with raised eyebrows. ¡°No, Terry, Whipvine¡¯s just messing with us.¡± He turned back and lightly returned the punch. ¡°He¡¯s just bitter cause he thought you¡¯d be a Duelist. The System spared you that fate, knowing you had no good teachers present.¡±

    Whipvine barked out a laugh, tilting his head in acknowledgment as he stepped back to make room for Mesmer.

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit,¡± Mesmer added. ¡°I had hoped for Hypnotist. You have an impressive knack for aura control. But Alterant is certainly interesting. And it leaves the avenue open for a transition to Distorter.¡± Mesmer¡¯s aura danced around his head, similar to the Professor, but looser, less concentrated internally. ¡°I know you had hoped to eventually follow in your mother¡¯s footsteps.¡±

    Terry shrugged, distracted as he examined the revenant¡¯s specific aura configuration.

    ¡°Would have been happy with Summoner, too,¡± he replied, throwing his father a concession to reinforce the bond they had been repairing. ¡°But Alterant does seem to have some interesting implications. Need to dig into it some more and see where I can take it.¡±

    Mesmer nodded, giving Terry a quick handshake. He dismissed the Skill instinctively by this point.

    ¡°Well, Nick and I will leave you to it. I¡¯m sure your father¡¯s eager to teach you about the System interface.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± Whipvine complained. ¡°I wanna see him use his powe¡ª¡± He cut off as Mesmer wrapped an arm around his shoulder and started directing him away. ¡°Fine, fine, no need to manhandle me, Seb.¡±

    They left the throne room trading barbs back and forth as Terry turned to his father.

    ¡°I have a question.¡±

    ¡°Just one?¡± his father asked with an arched eyebrow.

    Terry chuckled. ¡°No, a million. But my first question is: can I turn this Skill off? It keeps trying to activate every time someone touches me or uses their power. And it¡¯s really intrusive.¡±

    James nodded. ¡°Ah, yeah, I¡¯ve heard the analyzing Skills can be persistent. Let¡¯s find somewhere private to chat and I¡¯ll help you unpack all this new information.¡±

    <hr>

    They made their way to the living quarters, heading for his father¡¯s room. It had been months since he¡¯d seen his parents¡¯ room and he felt a flutter of nervousness that he might see his mother¡¯s things and get hit with a wave of melancholy.

    But when they entered the suite, he was surprised to see it mostly cleared out, the furniture covered in sheets against the dust. His father cringed in embarrassment, moving about hurriedly to peel off the covers to make space for them to sit.

    ¡°Sorry about the mess¡­it¡¯s been a while as you know.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Terry replied absentmindedly, moving further into the entry way. His eyes cast about, peering past the doorway leading into the bedroom. He hadn¡¯t planned it, but he found himself looking for a white rose. The tense reunion with his father and the attention of the Emperor and his revenants had distracted Terry from the Quest to find his mother¡¯s roses. But now that he was in his father¡¯s suite, it seemed the most likely place if the man did have one.

    He considered keeping the question to himself, doing some sleuthing on his own later. But the need burned inside his chest, too powerful to keep bottled up.

    ¡°Dad¡­¡±

    James turned back from where he was depositing the dusty sheets, concern in his eyes as he heard Terry¡¯s tone.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± He looked about, as if expecting something to have triggered Terry¡¯s worry. ¡°Is it this room? We can find somewhere else to¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± Terry said quickly. ¡°I¡­had a question.¡±

    James stood up, his brow knitted in confusion.

    ¡°Okay?¡±

    Terry cleared his throat, steeling himself for possible disappointment, maybe even anger. But he needed to ask.

    ¡°Do you have one of mom¡¯s roses?¡±

    His legs felt weak and he had to force himself to keep his eyes on his father rather than cast about nervously. James¡¯ face smoothed, his expression turning carefully neutral as he regarded Terry. But the man¡¯s aura was shifting, mirroring his obvious discomfort.

    After a full three seconds, James pursed his lips and nodded.

    ¡°I do. Why do you ask?¡±

    Because it¡¯s a Quest and it¡¯ll unlock the answer of what happened to mom and I need to know so give it to me!

    ¡°I saw Mes had one and it made me feel closer to mom. But he was pretty protective of it and I don¡¯t think he¡¯d let me take a closer look.¡± He very carefully kept the desperation out of his voice, doing his best to affect a casual tone. ¡°Would it be okay¡­if I looked at yours?¡±

    His father¡¯s face was difficult to read, but his aura was another story. Unfortunately, Terry didn¡¯t have the expertise to parse what he was seeing. But there was something there in the way James¡¯ aura was dancing about.

    ¡°Uh, okay, Terry.¡±

    He reeled back, unable to keep the surprise off his face. Okay? Was it really that simple? That would give him two roses out of four. With Mesmer¡¯s, that made three that he knew the location of. As for decoding, well, he had the one in his jacket that he could experiment with. Once he was more confident in the process, he hoped decoding the others could be done under the guise of just taking a quick look.

    ¡°But I don¡¯t have it with me,¡± his father continued, deflating Terry¡¯s burgeoning excitement. ¡°I left it back in my room in Topeka.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡±

    James coughed into his fist, looking off uncomfortably. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to bring it back with me next time, okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± he replied, keeping his voice light to hide the disappointment.

    James seemed to sense it regardless and spoke quickly to ease the mood.

    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Seb, how bout that? If it¡¯ll give you some comfort¡­¡± He trailed off, noting Terry¡¯s expression.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, dad. I can ask him myself.¡±

    James nodded, shifting uncomfortably before snapping his fingers as if a thought had just occurred to him.

    ¡°Should we turn off your Skill¡¯s automatic activation? I can imagine that¡¯s getting pretty frustrating.¡±

    Terry nodded, forcing a smile on his face.

    ¡°Sure!¡± he replied, affecting a false cheer.

    James noted the hollow nature of the reply, a light frown touching his face.

    ¡°Well, you should be able to modify it with a thought. Pull up the Skill and think about it with intention. There¡¯ll be a notification to make activation manual.¡±

    Terry sat down on the nearest couch, doing as his father had said.

    Toggle Metaphysical Analysis to manual?

    He indicated yes with a thought.

    Manual activation confirmed.

    ¡°It worked,¡± he said, feeling a bit of excitement return as he considered his new powers.

    ¡°Great. Let me show you some of the other System perks while we wait for your Attribute Ranking to update. Should be any minute now.¡±

    ¡°What is that, by the way? I noticed something about that in the first messages I received. And every Awakened I looked at had a field for Attribute Ranks, but they all said no data.¡±

    His father nodded, taking the seat across from him.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s dive in.¡± James leaned forward, a light of excitement in his eyes. ¡°Here¡¯s how Attributes work¡­¡±

 Chapter 30: Metaphysical Component Cataloged

    ¡°So Attribute Rankings are the measuring stick, not the actual thing improving our strength or speed?¡±

    James sipped from a drink he¡¯d poured himself¡ªa whiskey, Terry guessed¡ªthe ice clinking against the glass.

    ¡°Exactly. We don¡¯t receive automatic boosts to our Attributes; we have to work for them.¡± He leaned forward, his eyes alight with excitement. ¡°Imagine you¡¯re a Duelist¡ªpure physical Class, right?¡±

    Terry nodded, leaning in himself. He hadn¡¯t seen his father this animated since mom¡¯s death and he was infected by the man¡¯s good mood.

    ¡°Sure, though the System gives them weapons sometimes. Not sure how that comes into play.¡±

    James waved that away. ¡°Forget those for a minute, those are Quest rewards. Think about someone like Whipvine. You¡¯ve seen how fast he can move¡ªwell, maybe not his top speed¡ªbut damn fast, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Terry replied. ¡°Mes showed us the wraith-glass recording of you, Savage, and Whip taking out the Scourge¡ª¡±

    James¡¯ eyes bugged out, choking on his whiskey with a cough.

    ¡°He what!¡±

    Terry shrugged. ¡°Yeah, thought it was pretty badass, actually.¡± The memory of Whipvine lashing his weapons behind him to jerry-rig flight had been the kind of thing he wouldn¡¯t believe if he hadn¡¯t seen it. ¡°The way Whipvine flurried through the Scourge¡¯s bug waves¡­¡± He trailed off at the dark look in his father¡¯s eyes. ¡°Wh-what¡¯s wrong?¡±

    James¡¯ lips pursed tight for a moment before answering. ¡°Did he show you the¡­conclusion of the fight?¡±

    Terry leaned back, trying to parse where the sudden mood shift had come from. Was he not supposed to have seen that?

    ¡°Well, yeah. You mean when Whipvine killed the Scourge?¡±

    James¡¯ nostrils flared and his drink hit the table with a loud clink.

    ¡°You¡¯re too young to see those things.¡± The fire in his father¡¯s voice pulled him back to the argument they¡¯d had before his Awakening and he had to force the memory away. ¡°Seb shouldn¡¯t have shown you that.¡±

    ¡°Dad, it¡¯s fine¡ª¡± James¡¯ head whipped back, his expression tight.

    ¡°Terry, you¡¯re fourteen! Whip cut off his head and fed it to Savage! You¡¯re telling me that didn¡¯t affect you in the slightest?¡±

    Terry thought back to that moment in Mesmer¡¯s office, watching his father on the wraith-glass, Whipvine swimming through the air with cracks of his whips, Savage launching himself into the air with reckless abandon.

    ¡°No,¡± he replied with confidence. ¡°Watching the Scourge get what was coming to him didn¡¯t bother me in the least. I was worried about you and Whipvine. That¡¯s it.¡±

    His father¡¯s eyes burned with green magic, unblinking as they examined Terry. He was chewing his inner lip, clearly agitated, though he remained silent.

    ¡°What, dad? I have the internet you know? It¡¯s hardly worse than a Saturday morning sim¡ª¡±

    He cut off as his father abruptly stood, pacing with his back to Terry.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t a damn sim, Terry,¡± his father growled. ¡°That was a human being we cut down. That was a¡­¡± He muttered under his voice and Terry leaned forward to try and catch his words.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, dad. Am I supposed to feel bad about you killing the man that tried to kidnap me?¡± Terry¡¯s voice rose, the annoyance with it. ¡°You forget, I saw the feed of your fight with the Knights of Sol. Don¡¯t pretend like you¡¯re some saint.¡±

    His father¡¯s shoulders slumped and he stopped in place, his back still to Terry.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Terry. You¡¯re right. I¡­Allen was my friend.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide, his mouth gaping.

    ¡°Allen¡­you mean the Scourge! The Scourge was your friend!¡± The shock brought Terry¡¯s voice up an octave. ¡°Why¡­why the hell was your friend trying to kidnap me? Wait! I saw you fighting him. You sent Skol and Hati after him when the Knights attacked.¡±

    James turned, a defeated expression on his face.

    ¡°Allen and I hadn¡¯t spoken in years, but we grew up together.¡± He sighed, plopping back into the couch and scooping up his drink. It hung there in his hand as he regarded the caramel liquid. ¡°We were pulling our punches.¡±

    ¡°Pulling¡­? Dad, they were trying to kidnap me!¡±

    James eyes flicked up at his tone. ¡°Terry, I would never have let that happen. Your grandfather and I were in constant communication during the fight. I knew you were safe, I swear it.¡±

    ¡°And the Siren?¡± Terry demanded. ¡°Was that you pulling your punches?¡±

    James propped his glass against his forehead, his eyes staring at the carpet, haunted. Terry held his tongue, resisting the urge to demand answers. The frustration warred with the longing not to rock the boat; they¡¯d only just begun repairing their relationship. But at the same time, there was clearly so much he didn¡¯t understand, so much his father was keeping from him.

    When James finally broke the silence, his voice was barely above a whisper.

    ¡°Lirian was a¡­friend, too. Once upon a time. We dated for a year even¡ª¡± He glanced up, his expression harried. ¡°¡ªbefore I met your mother, I mean.¡±

    Terry reared back, horrified.

    ¡°You¡­dated? How could¡ªyou stomped on her neck, dad! Snapped it with your damn boot!¡±

    James nodded, accepting the accusatory tone without complaint.

    ¡°I did,¡± he whispered. Then, he looked up, his eyes still lit green, his aura full and confident. ¡°I did and I¡¯d do it again.¡± He must have noticed the look of horror in Terry¡¯s eyes, because he shook his head. ¡°Not because I¡¯m a sadist, Terry or some malicious bastard.¡± He sighed, sipping from his glass before continuing. ¡°Do you know how a Distorter¡¯s powers work?¡±

    Terry frowned at the oblique line of questioning.

    ¡°What does that have to do with the Siren?¡± he asked, crossing his arms. He knew the Siren was a Distorter, but he was on guard against his father deflecting from the broader discussion.

    James nodded. ¡°Let me explain. A Distorter infects an aura, reducing the target¡¯s powers or even distorting them to cause harm. But unlike Null, a Distorter¡¯s powers aren¡¯t permanent.¡± His father¡¯s eyes softened, a sadness playing across his face. ¡°The best way to stop a Distorter¡­is to kill them. If I hadn¡¯t she might have broken my bond with Skol and Hati. For me, it would be like Null himself affixing a negation forever. That was the choice I had to make. She gave me no other option.¡±

    Terry turned away, moving to the window to pull the drapes back. The eternal darkness of Wichita stared back at him, stealing the comfort he had been hoping to find in her skyline, the graceful power of her twin rivers.

    A part of him¡ªa petulant part¡ªwanted to condemn his father¡¯s actions anyway. They¡¯re only wolves, he might have said, the words on the tip of his tongue. But he knew differently. Skol and Hati had been his father¡¯s bonded familiars for longer than Terry had been alive. They were family, even if they couldn¡¯t be on this plane all the time.

    But he couldn¡¯t absolve the man, not just yet. Something about the powerful anger in his father¡¯s eyes when he had stomped on her thin neck stuck with him far more than Whipvine¡¯s disposal of the Scourge. He didn¡¯t know why, but for some reason, one had felt necessary, while the other¡­vindictive.

    He turned away from the inky black of the city to see a weariness set deep in his father¡¯s eyes. His own anger softened and he walked over to kneel before him. His father looked away, but Terry grabbed his hand, feeling the rough warmth for the first time in months. In the back of his mind, he realized that he could sense his Skills waiting to be activated, eager, almost alive. He pushed them away, focusing on his father¡¯s face until the man finally met his gaze.

    ¡°Tell me the truth, dad. Please. I saw the hate in your eyes, the rage. I want to understand. I really do.¡±

    James placed his other hand on top of Terry¡¯s, giving it a desperate squeeze. He finally understood what had prompted the man to leave Wichita without so much as a word; the months of silence.

    His father was a man drowning in grief and a drowning man always pulls down others around them. He had been trying to protect Terry with his distance, he could see that now. But sometimes, even adults needed a life vest thrown their way.

    James latched onto Terry, finally accepting the help he thought he could survive without.

    ¡°I¡­did hate her,¡± James whispered. ¡°In that moment, I wanted to kill her. She was trying to rip something away from me, the only thing I¡¯d ever wanted.¡± He looked away, his eyes glistening, his voice weak. ¡°I killed her, Terry. I killed her¡­¡±

    Terry¡¯s heart thrummed in his throat, his body locked in place. He feared the deluge that might erupt from his father, the raw emotion and self-hate that would infect Terry with sympathetic pain. He waited for his father to break, holding his hand tight, doing his best to brace himself for the eventuality.

    But James didn¡¯t break. He cleared his throat, gave Terry¡¯s hand a squeeze, blinked away the sheen that had threatened to materialize into something greater, and gave a sad smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Terry. I¡¯ve been an emotional wreck, haven¡¯t I?¡±

    Terry snorted, shaking his head as he stood. ¡°We both have. But I¡¯m over it. I¡¯m ready to embrace Awakened life. I¡¯m ready to learn how to do some cool shit.¡±

    His father chuckled, leaning back and eyeing him with a cryptic expression. Terry folded his arms unconsciously under the attention.

    ¡°What? Why are you looking at me like that?¡±

    James shrugged, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m just proud of you, son. And I can¡¯t wait to see what cool shit you get up to.¡±

    Terry shifted, looking away with a grin he tried to hide but couldn¡¯t. After a moment, he looked back as he settled into the couch.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get back to Attributes,¡± he said, thankful to return to a less heavy topic. ¡°You were saying something about Whipvine¡¯s speed.¡±

    James¡¯ eyes searched him for a moment, perhaps looking for more unsaid between them that needed to be addressed. But Terry knew that not everything had to be said at once; there would be time to heal¡ªeven from a distance.

    Seeming satisfied, James leaned back and sipped his drink before diving in.

    ¡°Duelist,¡± he began, ¡°is the physical-type Class, right? Superhuman feats of strength and speed come easy to even a D-ranked Duelist. But the System doesn¡¯t give them physical Attributes.¡± He swirled his drink, the ice clinking against the glass. ¡°So¡­how do Duelists get stronger and faster?¡±

    Terry frowned, thinking of the obvious answer but not feeling satisfied with it.

    Skills, he thought. But that didn¡¯t explain why Whipvine was fast, Savage was strong, War Crimes had hand-eye coordination and finesse. Unless the Skills were literally just super strength or speed or the like. But dad had said the System didn¡¯t give those Attributes¡­Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± he eventually replied.

    James scrunched his face up into a scowl, affecting a cadence that was the spitting image of Whipvine.

    ¡°Admitting you don¡¯t know shit is the first step to unfucking yourself,¡± he mocked. Terry snort-laughed while his father¡¯s Whipvine facade cracked with a smile. ¡°Whip¡¯s always had a way with words, hasn¡¯t he.¡±

    Terry scoffed. ¡°Putting it lightly.¡±

    ¡°As you¡¯ve probably seen, the System Skills can work on a sort of autopilot¡ªwith generally inferior results. But if you engage with the Skill, let the System help guide you as you put in the effort, the true potential unlocks.¡±

    ¡°And how does that relate to Duelists?¡±

    James leaned forward, his expression curious. ¡°I¡¯d wager your aura sense is in the low to mid Es¡ª¡± Terry¡¯s eyes went wide at that. ¡°¡ªso you must have noticed Whipvine¡¯s aura.¡±

    He was still reeling at that estimation¡ªlow to mid Es¡ªwhen he registered the second part of that statement.

    ¡°Actually, yeah. I noticed his aura didn¡¯t really extend out like you or me. It was condensed around his lower arms, now that I think about it.¡±

    James was nodding, a pleased smile on his face. ¡°Very good. Definitely low Es at a minimum. You might be surprised to know that not everyone can read the minutiae of another¡¯s aura like that.¡± That did surprise him, but he was hanging too tightly on his father¡¯s next words to let the pride settle in. ¡°Whipvine¡ªand all Duelists¡ªget Skills to guide body tempering and enhancement. It could be a Skill increasing the strength in their legs or the dexterity of their fingers. Hell, even the acuity and range of their vision or hearing.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said the System doesn¡¯t give them those Attributes? Isn¡¯t giving them a Skill to do that basically the same?¡±

    James shook his head and pointed his finger. ¡°No, and I¡¯ll tell you why. First of all, it¡¯s agonizing. Like fire ants crawling under your skin¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve done it?¡± Terry gasped. ¡°Is that why you¡¯re stronger and faster than a normie?¡±

    He nodded, taking another sip, his cheeks beginning to flush. ¡°I have support Skills to guide a full-body enhancement all the way through the Ds. As a result, my Physical Attributes average around a mid-D¡ª¡±

    A notification flickered across his vision, flashing open his father¡¯s System nameplate from where he had minimized it earlier with a thought.

    Individual Attribute Ranks: No Data -> Attribute Data Updated

    Strength: D4 (Estimated)

    Speed: D4 (Estimated)

    Toughness: D4 (Estimated)

    Perception: D4 (Estimated)

    Terry blinked in surprise as the list of estimated Attribute rankings appeared before him.

    ¡°Did your Attribute Ranking compile?¡± James asked.

    He shook his head. ¡°No. Yours did. It filled in your Strength, Speed, and Endurance with D4s for some reason.¡±

    James leaned back with a nod. ¡°Ah, yeah, it does that. A person¡¯s estimated stats can change a lot as you talk to them¡ªor fight them,¡± he added with a chuckle. ¡°It homes in on other¡¯s ranking but I¡¯ve found it can vary pretty wildly until the data really piles on.¡±

    Terry scanned the estimated Attribute Rankings, feeling a bit¡­unimpressed by the System¡¯s methods.

    ¡°All you did was say your Physical Attributes are mid-D. What if you were lying? Seems kind of¡­inexact.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it can be. It¡¯s giving me the benefit of the doubt until I prove otherwise. If you watched me leap across Wichita right now, the System would recompile and put my Physical Attributes somewhere in the As. But since it doesn¡¯t have any contradictory data, it¡¯ll just give a rough guess for now.¡±

    ¡°Okay, makes sense, I guess. So how do the body enhancement or tempering Skills work, exactly?¡± Terry asked.

    A smile lit up across James face. ¡°Why don¡¯t I show you while you activate your Skills?¡±

    Terry¡¯s face split into a matching grin and he considered his Skills with a thought.

    ¡°Hell yeah! Okay, ready.¡±

    James nodded and his aura began fluctuating. Metaphysical Analysis was triggered almost immediately, those familiar notifications appearing.

    Metaphysical component detected¡­

    Before it could prompt him for his input, he was already reaching his thoughts into his aura, feeling the shift as it quested forward toward his father. In his aura sense, he could feel the man¡¯s aura retracting, pulling in tight, nearly sinking beneath the skin.

    His own Skill guided his aura, wrapping around his father like glove around a fist. James¡¯ eyebrows rose in surprise as Terry¡¯s aura encompassed his own.

    ¡°Oh, wow. I half-expected it to feel like a Distorter¡¯s invasion. But it¡¯s more like an Amplifier¡¯s touch.¡±

    Terry frowned. ¡°Is that good¡­?¡±

    ¡°Actually, yes. It¡¯s less likely to alarm someone if you use your Skill on them. This is really good, actually,¡± James continued, a smile on his face. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna need to focus while I use the body Skill. Ready?¡±

    Terry nodded, turning his attention back to his aura. He felt his father¡¯s aura in its entirety, his senses alight with the sensation. There was a texture to it, grainy, like he was running his hand along the surface of unfinished wood. His aura attempted to seep into those micro divots, forcing itself in tighter to his father¡¯s aura surface. He realized then what exactly the Metaphysical Analysis Skill was doing.

    It¡¯s creating a mold!

    The realization unlocked something in his mind and he began directing the aura with purpose. He could tell instinctively that his father¡¯s Skill was far too nuanced for him to capture its entire surface at once. Instead, he had to help force his aura into the tight nooks of his father¡¯s aura, one small area at a time. It was painstaking work, requiring his complete focus in order to meticulously cover every square inch of surface aura.

    Time drifted away as he worked, his vision tunneled as his mind traced over his father¡¯s aura, double-checking the mold he¡¯d already made. Once he had covered the entire surface twice over and felt satisfied with his work, he eased his senses back, letting the Skill go with a weary sigh.

    The first thing he noticed when his vision returned, was the notification blinking in front of him.

    Metaphysical component cataloged¡­

    Partial Skill acquired¡ªFull-Body Tempering (F)

    Genetic Analysis required before Affixation is available.

    Attribute calculation updated¡­

    See Status Sheet for more information.

    He blinked a few times to clear away the fog. Beyond the looming notifications, he spotted his father watching him curiously.

    ¡°Well, that was certainly interesting,¡± James said. ¡°Did it work?¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind felt heavy, his thoughts thick. The attention to detail, the sheer focus, the weight of holding his father¡¯s entire aura in his mind while he cataloged it¡­he felt like he¡¯d been studying for 15 hours straight.

    He nodded wearily, stretching his stiff back. ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s only half of the equation. I need to do the Genetic Analysis now before I can Affix it.¡±

    James eyebrows rose. ¡°So it¡¯ll actually let you Affix my Skill?¡±

    ¡°It seems so,¡± Terry said with a shrug.

    James whistled as he sat back. ¡°Wow, Terry. Just¡­wow.¡± He shook his head with a snort. ¡°That¡¯s incredibly powerful. If you can get some other Awakened to sit for three hours while you catalog their powers, you¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°Three hours!¡± Terry burst out. ¡°That was three hours!¡±

    His father chuckled. ¡°Three and a half, actually. I was going to call it after twenty minutes, but you were in the zone. After the ninety-minute mark, I felt you finish.¡± He snorted. ¡°But then you started back at the beginning, going over the entire thing a second time. I didn¡¯t realize you were so meticulous.¡±

    Terry reeled into the couch, thinking back on the analysis. It had felt like a while, he figured maybe thirty, forty minutes. Where had three hours gone?

    Then another thought hit him and he stomach dropped.

    ¡°That was only an F-rank Skill,¡± he said with a defeated tone. ¡°Cataloging an A-rank Skill would probably take weeks¡­¡±

    James canted his head, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

    ¡°Well¡­yeah. Did you think you¡¯d be Affixing A-rank Skills tomorrow?¡± he asked with a light laugh.

    Terry pursed his lips, giving a half-hearted shake of his head.

    James'' expression went neutral. ¡°Oh, you did.¡±

    Terry shifted awkwardly with embarrassment. ¡°I¡­guess I did. I expected them to downgrade to F maybe, but I was still excited about the prospect I suppose.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s understandable,¡± James replied. ¡°I would be thinking the exact same. Boy, imagine cataloging my Summon Skill and drawing Skol and Hati to you?¡± He laughed to himself. ¡°That would be incredible.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes bugged out. ¡°Do you¡­do you think that¡¯s possible?¡±

    James looked off thoughtfully, then shrugged. ¡°Terry, the only thing I know for certain is, nothing is certain. But I do know this: I want to see what happens after you do the Genetic Analysis¡­¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes lit up, his heart racing with excitement. Would he really be able to Affix the Body Tempering Skill and start ranking up his Attributes? The thought reminded him of the other notification that had flashed in his vision.

    ¡°Oh, I forgot. My Attributes updated. The System said to look at my Status Sheet for more info.¡±

    ¡°Fantastic. About time,¡± James replied. ¡°Just think Status Sheet and it should open up. You¡¯ll be able to alter your chat name and nameplate there as well.¡±

    Terry nodded, then very clearly pronounced the words in his head.

    Status Sheet!

    <u>Status Sheet</u>

    <u> </u>

    <u>Class</u>

    Alterant (F)

    <u>Skills</u>

    Metaphysical Analysis

    Genetic Analysis

    Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation

    <u>Affixation Slots</u>

    1 (F) ¡ª free

    <u>Attribute Ranks</u>

    Physical Average: F2

    Strength: F2

    Speed: F4

    Toughness: F1

    Perception: F2

    Presence Average: E4

    Aura Projection: E2

    Aura Control: E4

    Aura Perception: E7

    Mental Average: F0

    Chronoception: F0

    Visual Processing: F0

    Auditory Processing: F0

    <u>Public Information</u>

    Name: Terrence Fairway II

    Class: Alterant (Hidden)

    Overall Rank: F (Hidden)

    Attribute Ranks: (Hidden)

    The first thing he did was change his public name to Terry. With that out of the way, he regarded his Attribute Ranks. He was really pleased with his Aura Attributes all ranking in the Es; it felt rewarding after all the hard work he had done with Crunch. His Physical Attributes were a little lower than he had hoped, considering he had been working out with Whipvine nearly every day for months. But what really miffed him were his Mental Attributes.

    ¡°I¡¯m F0 in all my Mentals,¡± he complained. ¡°What gives?¡±

    His father laughed, then held up his hand when Terry narrowed his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s common, Terry. The only people I know that started out higher are Savants and world-class athletes.¡±

    ¡°Athletes?¡± Terry¡¯s brow knit. ¡°Why would athletes have higher Mental Attributes?¡±

    James shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t claim to have a deep understanding of the why, but I¡¯ve been told that elite athletes have incredibly heightened instinctive visual and auditory processing. It¡¯s not something I¡¯d be concerned about. Your Chronoception, and Processing Attributes will naturally increase with your Physical Attributes¡ªthough at a slower pace. It only makes sense. Imagine someone moving as fast as Whipvine perceiving time at an F0 rank? He¡¯d lose track of his own movements.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m more interested in your Aura rankings,¡± James said, leaning forward.

    ¡°E2 Projection, E4 Control.¡± Terry smiled looking at the last Attribute. ¡°And E7 Perception.¡±

    James mouth gaped open, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. After a moment of shock, he blurt out, ¡°E7! You¡¯re practically in the Ds!¡± He shook his head with disbelief. ¡°Terry, that¡¯s phenomenal.¡±

    His skin flushed at his father¡¯s praise and he shrugged casually. ¡°My Physical¡¯s pretty low, though. Mostly F1 or F2, with Speed at F4.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s respectable actually. Very solid starting Speed ranking. And if you can affix my Body Tempering Skill¡­¡± His head tilted suggestively. ¡°You¡¯ll be pushing the Physical E ranks in a couple weeks.¡±

    ¡°That long?¡±

    His father scoffed. ¡°Yeah, that long. And that¡¯s only if you run the Skill routinely. But I did warn you, it¡¯s painful as all get-out. Even most Duelists only temper in bursts. It took me years to get my Physical Attributes into the Ds with an upgraded version. And there were stretches months long where I avoided it like the plague.¡±

    ¡°But you just ran it for three hours!¡± Then he realized why his father had wanted to pull him out of his Skill. ¡°Dad! You should have said something! Wait, you did, didn¡¯t you? I¡¯m so sorr¡ª¡±

    ¡°Terry, please,¡± James replied with a dismissive wave. ¡°I can handle a little pain for you to get this kind of experience. Plus, this was only an F-rank version of the Body Tempering Skill and I¡¯m capped out on what it can offer. The pain was minimal compared to when I first unlocked it. The D-rank version would have been a different story.¡±

    That put Terry slightly more at ease, but he still felt terrible he hadn¡¯t even considered the pain his father was enduring for him to catalog the Skill. He had been so eager to finish the genetic component analysis so he could actually begin tempering. But now¡­

    ¡°So, what do you say?¡± his dad asked. ¡°Should we finish cataloging this Skill or what?¡±

    Terry double-taked, his eyes wide. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious? I don¡¯t want to hurt you anymore.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Terry, this is nothing.¡± A knowing smile touched his lips. ¡°In fact, I don¡¯t envy you. With F-rank Physical Attributes, running this Skill is gonna be a shock to your system. Let¡¯s see if we can finish the cataloging tonight and I can walk you through a short body tempering session.¡±

    Terry scanned his father¡¯s face for a moment, looking to see if the man was just putting on a brave front for his son. But he had to admit, he was incredibly eager to begin body tempering to boost his Attributes.

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure¡­¡±

    James aura began condensing once more and Terry knew the Skill by sight now.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. Let¡¯s do this.¡±

    Terry nodded, reaching out his hand now instead of his aura sense. When their skin touched, a new notification appeared.

    Metaphysical component cataloged¡­

    Genetic-Metaphysical component detected¡­

    Genetic Analysis commenced¡­

 Chapter 31: Pain is Temporary, Attribute Ranks are Forever

    Right away, Terry could tell Genetic Analysis was very different from its Metaphysical twin. As soon as their hands touched, Terry was able to visualize his father¡¯s genetic makeup like a 3D overlay in his vision. He didn¡¯t understand it in the slightest, but he could visualize it. More than that, he found that when he pulled his hand away, bits of residue clung to his hand, allowing him to continue the analysis without having to be in skin-on-skin contact. He scraped his father¡¯s hand to give him a larger sample to work with, then leaned back and re-activated the Skill.

    The really surprising part of it all, was that the Genetic Analysis didn¡¯t seem require power activation for Terry to run it; the metaphysically cataloged component appeared to serve that function. It was like the metaphysical component was the lock, while the genetic component was the key¡ªor maybe vice versa. He still hadn¡¯t figured out the exact mental model for the two analysis Skills. All he knew was: he was excited to analyze the genetic component and affix his first Skill!

    The genetic information visualized in his mind like a series of rolling hills. He both saw and felt the data streaming past, diving into valleys with his mind, then climbing to the peaks, before hitting more valley. It was a confusing Skill that was less intuitive than the metaphysical mold he had made of his father¡¯s aura earlier. He wasn¡¯t sure he was making any progress at all, when he hit his first landmark.

    As it appeared, he knew instantly that it was important. The landmark stood out like a sore thumb, shaped differently than the rest of the genetic information. Whereas the normal sense was of hills and valleys with a relatively uniform appearance, this particular landmark was jagged in his mind, almost like the ridges of a key¡¯s edge.

    He paused the analysis, regarding the landmark from every angle, trying to catalog it in his thoughts. As he made his third mental pass, he realized that the shape he was seeing was almost familiar. In a burst of inspiration, he canceled the Genetic Analysis Skill and swapped over to his mental model of his father¡¯s metaphysical component.

    Where was it¡­where was it¡­there!

    He¡¯d gone over the mold¡ªas he¡¯d come to think of the metaphysical component¡ªwith a fine-tooth comb twice now and he had a good sense of its intricate shape in his mind. So he¡¯d recognized the shape of that landmark as the opposite of a particular section of the mold. The key analogy suddenly grew more poignant as he realized that the genetic landmark could literally slot into place in that section of the mold.

    The success of that realization slipped away in an instant as he realized just how insignificant that section of the mold was. If he needed to find landmarks to slot into the entire surface of the metaphysical component, this was going to take a lot longer than three hours¡­

    Well, at least I know what to look for now!

    <hr>

    With his father¡¯s active participation not required and the analysis looking like it would take all night, James had begged off to take a nap¡ªapparently, he¡¯d been traveling all day and hadn¡¯t had a chance to sleep yet. Terry had reluctantly paused his analysis to say goodnight and return to his room.

    Crunch was there waiting for him and he rushed by with a quick hello, eager to reactivate the analysis while his father¡¯s metaphysical mold was still fresh in his mind.

    An indeterminate amount of time later, the notification he had been waiting for popped into view.

    Genetic-Metaphysical component cataloged¡­

    New Skill Cataloged: Full-Body Tempering (F)

    New Affixation available. Affix?

    He stared at that message in a bleary-eyed daze.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± he muttered. ¡°It worked!¡±

    With a thought, he confirmed the Affixation. Both his body and aura began to squirm against his control and in a moment of panic, he tried to cancel the process.

    Cancel Affixation process?

    He hesitated, the alien feeling of his self being shifted without his input frightening him in a visceral way. Then again, that was what he had been working toward for the entire day; he wasn¡¯t about to shy away now.

    With a thought, he dismissed the prompt and let the Skill do its work.

    He could feel it morphing his aura into a position very familiar to the aura shape he¡¯d been studying for hours. It wasn¡¯t exactly identical, but close enough for him to recognize the Skill being imprinted in his aura. At the same time, his muscles and skin seemed to move, shifting much more subtly than his aura, but enough for him to feel the changes.

    The entire process took five minutes and he knew instinctively that it was done when the Affixation Skill ended of its own accord.

    New Skill Affixed: Full-Body Tempering (F)

    Concentrates your aura into your physical makeup, increasing Strength, Speed, Toughness, and Perception. Can be run passively. Active input amplifies the speed and effect.

    His skin itched and his aura felt strange, but other than that, there didn¡¯t seem to be any negative effects of the Affixation. He rose from his bed and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Crunch in the doorway.

    ¡°Holy-¡± Terry fell back onto the bed in shock. ¡°Crunch, you scared the crap outta me!¡±

    ¡°Apologies, my prince. Aura feel different.¡± He tilted his head, his eye scanning Terry up and down. ¡°Familiar, but different.¡±

    Terry waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Nothing to worry about, Crunch. Just an Awakened thing.¡± He had realized earlier that he was restricted from telling Crunch what exactly his Skills did. But he wasn¡¯t restricted in showing him. ¡°In fact, I just finished what I needed to do. I¡¯m gonna activate one of my powers now¡­if you wanted to watch?¡±

    Crunch¡¯s single eye blinked, then he strode into the room without a word and sat in Terry¡¯s desk chair.

    A sudden pang of anxiety made his stomach churn as he realized two things. One, his father had said that body tempering was extremely painful. And two, he now had an audience, meaning he was about to be a lot more self-conscious when the pain hit.

    But he couldn¡¯t exactly change his mind and kick Crunch out, so he gritted his teeth and pulled up the Skill with a thought.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna be in some pain,¡± he added for Crunch¡¯s benefit. ¡°Don¡¯t be alarmed.¡±

    Crunch simply nodded, his gaze casual as he regarded Terry.

    Here goes nothing! He activated the Skill, turning his mind inward to provide manual input.

    White-hot agony burned his every nerve, searing him from the inside out. His back arched as the breath was sucked from his lungs. Pain worse than Sol¡¯s fire burned him from head to toe. Sheer panic eclipsed his thoughts and for a moment, he didn¡¯t know where he was, who he was, or what had happened. His thoughts fumbled for the mental switch and in a moment of desperation-induced clarity, he finally found it.

    He lay in his bed, even the simple memory of the pain nearly worse than anything he¡¯d ever experienced. His entire body was clenched, his lungs wrung dry, tears dripping down his face.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    After some time, he returned to himself¡ªslowly, tentatively¡ªbracing for the pain to return, even knowing it wouldn¡¯t. He realized distantly that Crunch was hovering over him, his sole eye scanning him up and down with worry.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he tried to say. The words were mumbled, more moan that articulation.

    Then he noticed the notifications flickering in his view, clamoring for his harried attention.

    Strength: F2

    Speed: F4

    Toughness: F1 ¡ú F2

    Perception: F2

    Physical Average: F2 ¡ú F3

    No way. No freakin¡¯ way¡­

    ¡°Crunch¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here, my prince!¡±

    He reached his hand up and Crunch clasped it, pulling him into a sit. His clothes were soaked with sweat and a rank smell hit his nose as his senses began to return.

    ¡°How long was that?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Forty-five seconds¡ª¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind came alive, his gaze snapping to Crunch. ¡°Seconds?¡± His head reeled at the revelation.

    ¡°Yes, my prince. Then lay on bed five minutes.¡±

    Forty-five seconds of pure agony. But the payoff¡­

    ¡°I have to go back in,¡± he muttered. The anxiety of that realization was offset by the gains still flickering in his vision.

    ¡°My prince!¡± The alarm in Crunch¡¯s grating tone pulled Terry away from the Skill.

    ¡°It¡¯s normal, Crunch.¡± I think. ¡°I¡¯m getting gains to compensate, don¡¯t worry.¡± Crunch¡¯s eye flitted over Terry, obvious concern on his face. ¡°I¡¯ll message my father just to be sure. Okay?¡±

    That concern remained, but Crunch nodded.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Dad, hope this doesn¡¯t wake you. But you weren¡¯t kidding¡­is the pain supposed to be so intense?

    </blockquote>

    He waited a moment, expecting his father to be asleep. But a message came in a moment later.

    <blockquote>

    [James]: It gets easier. The higher your Attributes, the less pain. But those first few ranks are some of the worst pain I¡¯ve ever experienced.

    </blockquote>

    Terry started to reply when another message came in.

    <blockquote>

    [James]: There¡¯s no shame in running it passively until your Attributes hit the peak of F. The pain is almost manageable once you hit the Es. Sorry, son, I should have been more clear.

    </blockquote>

    He considered that message for a moment, his thoughts conflicted. On one hand, it was just pain. Pain was temporary, Attribute ranks were forever. On the other hand, what was his rush? If he slowly climbed the Physical F ranks, well, no one expected him to be a Physical super anyway.

    But then his mind flashed back to his wrist crumpling against the draugr¡¯s chest. Tenebrous¡¯ forearm around his throat. Savage leaping hundreds of feet in a single bound. Whipvine swimming through the air with nothing but flicks of his wrists.

    Maybe his father¡¯s Skill wouldn¡¯t get him to that level. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t even get him past the Fs. But it was a start.

    He didn¡¯t want to be weak anymore. He refused to be weak anymore.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It¡¯s just pain. How long to hit the peak of F if I run it actively versus passively?

    [James]: Terry, you don¡¯t have to rush.

    [Terry]: How long dad?

    </blockquote>

    There was a weighty pause on his father¡¯s end, a moment dragging into ten. Then:

    <blockquote>

    [James]: If you run it passively, probably a few weeks of total time. Running it for two or three hours a day¡­it took me a few months.

    </blockquote>

    A few months? I jumped a single rank in forty-five seconds¡­

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: And if I run it actively?

    [James]: I¡¯m not entirely sure. Never ran it actively for long at the beginning. But if I had to guess, four, maybe five hours. Whip used to tell me he¡¯d run it in fifteen-minute bursts, twice a day. That¡¯s insane, though. I didn¡¯t push past five minutes until I hit the late Es.

    </blockquote>

    Terry barely read the rest of the message.

    Four to five hours¡­if I did a minute on, a minute off, I could get in a few hours before the parade.

    <blockquote>

    [James]: I can tell by your silence you¡¯re gonna run it actively, aren¡¯t you?

    [Terry]: How could I not?

    [James]: I¡¯m on my way.

    [Terry]: You should nap, don¡¯t worry about me.

    [James]: I¡¯m on my way.

    </blockquote>

    Terry smiled at that. It was nice to have someone who cared and that he could talk with about his Skills. With his Affixation Skill being a secret, his father was the only one he could really go to for help.

    What a change half a day can make, he mused.

    He psyched himself up while he waited for his father to arrive, forcing in deep breaths as he tried to prepare his mind.

    It¡¯s only pain. It¡¯s only pain.

    When his father knocked on his bedroom door, Crunch pulled it open.

    ¡°Good to see you, Crunch,¡± James said with a nod.

    ¡°Good to see you, Prince James.¡±

    His father¡¯s eyes widened at that. ¡°Hey, your English is getting pretty good.¡±

    ¡°I have good teacher,¡± Crunch said with a nod toward Terry.

    James¡¯ expression was appraising as he glanced between Crunch and Terry.

    ¡°Seems we have you to thank for his impressive Aura Attributes.¡±

    Crunch inclined his head. ¡°Prince is a natural.¡±

    James chuckled, moving to sit on the bed beside Terry. His mood sobered as they regarded each other. He turned back to Crunch. ¡°Crunch, would you attend outside? We need to discuss his Skills.¡±

    The ghoul departed with a bow, leaving father and son alone.

    ¡°I see I¡¯ve made a mistake giving you a body tempering Skill.¡± There was a glint in his father¡¯s eyes, but also a flicker of worry.

    Terry shrugged, feeling both trepidation and determination mingling inside him.

    ¡°If I was a Duelist instead of an Alterant, this would be expected, right? Just pretend I Awakened as a Duelist, then.¡±

    James scoffed. ¡°If you were a Duelist, your Physical Attributes would have started three or four ranks higher, reducing the pain significantly.¡± He sighed. ¡°But you¡¯re right. I don¡¯t mean to coddle you, Terry. I remember the pain and no father wants their child to go through this level of suffering.¡±

    Terry looked off, afraid that his resolve would chip away the longer they delayed.

    ¡°It¡¯s the only way I can become strong,¡± he whispered.

    When he looked back, his father had a thoughtful set to his lips. After a moment, he nodded.

    ¡°Okay, if you¡¯re sure, then I won¡¯t stop you.¡±

    His stomach roiled with nausea in anticipation of the pain. But he pushed the anxiety away, forcing himself to pretend like he was looking forward to it.

    Fake it till you make it, as his mother used to say.

    ¡°Ready?¡± James asked.

    Terry nodded resolutely. ¡°Ready.¡±

    <hr>

    Two hours later, he deactivated the Skill for the last time, his limbs jelly, his mind seared raw. They¡¯d run six total sessions, each five minutes long with a fifteen-minute break. He had clenched his father¡¯s hand so hard that it felt stuck that way, rigid like a cast. His sheets were soaked with sweat and grime that had somehow expelled itself from his pores and his muscles were filled with fire.

    But the notifications he had received over the two hours made the pain all worth it. He reviewed the final jump with a weary smile.

    Strength: F2 ¡ú F4

    Speed: F4 ¡ú F5

    Toughness: F2 ¡ú F4

    Perception: F2 ¡ú F3

    Physical Average: F2 ¡ú F4

    Chronoception: F0 ¡ú F1

    Visual Processing: F0 ¡ú F1

    Auditory Processing: F0 ¡ú F1

    Mental Average: F0 ¡ú F1

    ¡°F4,¡± he hissed, his lungs tight and burning like he¡¯d just run a marathon. ¡°F1 Mental.¡±

    James whistled in appreciation. ¡°That¡¯s incredible progress, Terry. Keep in mind, it¡¯s gonna slow down dramatically as it rises, and even more so at the peak.¡±

    Terry nodded mechanically from where he was sprawled out. Even that simple motion nearly made him puke.

    James reached over, a cup of water in his hands. He held it to Terry¡¯s mouth and the boy gulped it down greedily, choking for a moment before returning to finish it off. But James pulled the cup away. He turned to his father, glowering at the small betrayal.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious about what I said earlier. You¡¯re not to run the Skill without me. I¡¯ve never heard of anyone dying from body tempering, but I¡¯ve also never seen someone so desperate to find the limit.¡± Terry nodded, reaching his head up for the water, but his father pulled it back again. He glared at the man once more. ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t run it without me.¡±

    If he was being honest, he was afraid to run it actively without his father nearby. He felt as helpless as a newborn calf right now, his limbs completely drained of any energy. But he had intended to run it passively once he¡¯d recovered a bit.

    He tried to speak, but his throat was sore from the screams. He cleared it and tried again.

    ¡°Promise not to run it actively without you,¡± he whispered.

    James¡¯ eyebrows rose. ¡°Don¡¯t think I missed what you just did there, boy. You check with me before you run it passively, too. Deal?¡±

    Terry let out a feral growl, but there was no room for argument in his father¡¯s stony expression.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he ground out.

    James snorted, feeding him another sip of water. ¡°Two ranks in a single day, Terry. And yet, why do I feel like you¡¯re not satisfied with that?¡± He shook his head, rising to his feet. ¡°You¡¯ve been going all night. Sleep. Rest. You¡¯ve got five hours before the parade. And I know you don¡¯t want to miss your own Awakening party.¡± There was a humorous twinkle in his eye. ¡°Then you wouldn¡¯t get to meet Team Dallas or the Council.¡± He paused. ¡°And I have it on good authority that Dancer confirmed his attendance¡ª¡±

    That perked Terry up and the fog surrounding his brain cleared just that much more.

    ¡°Really!¡± he squeaked. He cleared his throat with embarrassment and tried again. ¡°Really? He¡¯s coming?¡±

    James nodded, the corner of his lip turned up in a wry smile. ¡°So he says. But not if the whole thing¡¯s canceled because you can¡¯t stand.¡± James grabbed the throw blanket from the end of the bed and tossed it over Terry. ¡°Sleep.¡± His voice took on that commanding tone Terry recognized from the battlefield. ¡°That¡¯s an order, soldier.¡± He softened it with a wink, turning to leave.

    ¡°Uh, dad?¡±

    James turned, his eyebrows raised in question. ¡°Yeah, Terry?¡±

    ¡°Th-thanks. Thanks for being here, I mean.¡±

    ¡°You bet, kiddo. Get some rest now. I¡¯ll wake you when it¡¯s time.¡±

    Terry was asleep before his father even closed the door.

 Chapter 32: Dressed for the Part

    He awoke to the sound of a knock on his door. He rolled over to ignore it and his entire body lit up with pain.

    ¡°Ah, ah, ah,¡± he moaned. Another knock pulled him from the discomfort and he called out. ¡°Come in.¡±

    He turned his head to see his father opening the door, his arms crossed, a pleased smile on his face.

    ¡°I told you you were pushing it too hard.¡±

    Terry went to wave dismissively, but his muscles seized and he clenched his eyes tight against the pain. Footsteps sounded¡ªwere they a bit louder than normal?¡ªand he opened his eyes to see his father and Dr. Wong hovering over him.

    ¡°What on earth?¡± the doctor exclaimed, his hand hovering over Terry. ¡°His body¡¯s been battered!¡±

    ¡°Nothing to alarm yourself with, doctor,¡± James replied coolly. ¡°Just experimenting with his new Skills. Could you ease the muscle aches¡ª¡± He held up a finger. ¡°¡ªjust a bit, now.¡± He turned back to Terry with what the boy felt was a smile bordering on sadistic pleasure. ¡°He¡¯s not gonna have a healer on hand for every little thing. Some measure of pain will remind him of the dangers of power experimentation.¡± James'' eyebrows raised¡ªclear reminder of their previous agreement.

    Terry groaned, forcing himself to a sit. His muscles felt torn; shredded flesh beneath his skin. The pain of simply sitting up made him grimace. Sweet, angelic relief suddenly filled his body and he sighed with pleasure.

    ¡°My prince!¡± Dr. Wong burst out. ¡°Your body¡­it¡¯s like you packed on two dozen pounds of muscle overnight. But the inflammation is severe. And you have a fever in the 105s.¡± He turned to James in a panic. ¡°Are you certain this is normal?¡±

    ¡°Quite, doctor. Just bring down the fever and reduce the inflammation, will you? He¡¯s got a parade to attend.¡±

    When Dr. Wong was finished, Terry felt marginally better¡ªlike his body was hanging together by glue and thread instead of just thread. And the lack of sleep compounded the effect, putting him in a surly mood.

    But he reminded himself over and over again: F4 Physical. You have an F4 Physical!

    And he could feel it, too. Through the aching joints, the burning muscles, and the brain fatigue, he could tell he was noticeably stronger than before. As he rose to take a shower, he gave an experimental hop, fighting through the pain to see what his body could accomplish. Fire licked his knees, needle points jabbing into his quads. But his gentle hop launched him to a height that he would have considered his maximum jump before the tempering.

    He couldn¡¯t wait to experiment with his new physique. And though the thought of firing up his affixed Skill filled him with anxiety, he was also incredibly impatient to reach the peak of F.

    His father chuckled at Terry¡¯s experimental hop, shaking his head wryly. ¡°I remember when I first hit the Es. I traveled exclusively by leaping across rooftops for a week, just to enjoy the sensation of that superhuman physicality.¡±

    Terry¡¯s face lit up thinking about that. Being able to go places he couldn¡¯t have before, do things physically impossible just a week ago¡ªhe was giddy with excitement.

    ¡°That wore off real quick,¡± his father continued. ¡°Got cocky and missed a step. A five-story drop can be fatal, even to the Es. Keep that in mind, hm?¡±

    Terry nodded to appease his father. I¡¯ll just have to watch my step then, won¡¯t I?

    Though he wasn¡¯t looking forward to the parade in the slightest, he viewed it as a necessary pain to endure to make it to the real event¡ªthe Awakening Party. So he stripped his soiled clothes off in the bathroom, easing himself into the running water.

    ¡°Do cold water, son,¡± his father called through the door. ¡°Trust me.¡±

    Terry scowled, flipping the handle from scalding hot to lukewarm. He didn¡¯t have the mental fortitude to plunge into ice water right now, not after the agonizing walk from the bed.

    But as he stepped into what he expected to be water bordering on cold, he actually found it relatively pleasant. Must be some inflammation and a fever still in my system.

    With a sigh, he turned the temp down a notch. He waited for it to adjust, then turned it down another notch.

    Only when it was at the very coldest setting did he actually start to shiver. But now that he was here, he found it mildly comforting and nowhere near the pain and discomfort he¡¯d endured last night¡ªwell, early this morning.

    After he had sloughed off all the gunk and grime and sweat, he reluctantly stepped out into the brisk air and toweled off. A glance in the mirror showed sunken eyes¡ªblue like his mother¡¯s. He leaned in, wondering if he was showing any flecks of magical color like the high ranking supers. What color would it be? Silver like his mother¡¯s? Green like his father¡¯s? But there was no magic there yet; all he saw was the mundane blue of his pupils staring back at him and the bloodshot red surrounding it. His hair was tousled from the towel, overly long as he hadn¡¯t bothered to get it cut in six months.

    ¡°I look like crap,¡± he muttered.

    He scrounged up some eye drops from the medicine cabinet and ran a comb through his hair, but it still managed to look mangy. After trying several different hair configurations, he eventually found a hair tie and pulled it back in a pony tail. It was a new look, befitting the new Terry.

    I need to work on a superhero name, he realized.

    A knock broke him from his reverie and he quickly pulled the towel tight around his waist before opening it. His father stood there, his eyebrows rising as he took in Terry.

    ¡°Damn, son. The doc wasn¡¯t kidding. You look like you packed on some muscle.¡± His eyes trailed to the ponytail, tilting his head in a appraising look. A cryptic expression shifted onto his face and Terry suddenly felt very self-conscious.

    ¡°It looks dumb, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    His father quickly shook his head, indicating the hair style with a wave. ¡°Not at all. No, it looks great. It just¡­¡± He hesitated, obvious discomfort on his face.

    Terry squinted. ¡°What? Tell me if it¡¯s dumb, please. I won¡¯t be mad.¡±

    James snorted. ¡°No, Terry. It looks great. You¡­remind me of your mother, is all.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too girly, I knew it.¡± He reached up to pull the hair tie out. I¡¯ll slick it back or something. But his father¡¯s hand snaked out, stopping him.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not girly at all. Leave it, please.¡±

    Terry hesitated with his hand wrapped around the hair tie, conflicted on whether his father was the best judge of what was cool or not. The man had been wearing the same hair cut for Terry¡¯s entire life¡ªa military fade that was utilitarian, tinged with grey he didn¡¯t care to dye.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll leave it. But I¡¯m gonna check with Tania¡ªno offense. If she laughs me out of the room, it¡¯s coming out.¡±

    James smirked at that, a sly twinkle in his eye. ¡°Okay, son.¡±

    Terry was tempted to let it lie, but there was something in his father¡¯s look he couldn¡¯t ignore. ¡°What¡¯s that look mean?¡± he asked, crossing his arms.

    James shrugged casually, matching his posture with crossed arms. ¡°What look?¡±

    Terry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ¡°That look!¡±

    ¡°Oh, this look? Nothing really, I¡¯ve just being hearing from Mesmer about this girl you¡¯ve been following around like a lost puppy¡ª¡±

    His eyes bugged out. ¡°Have not! She¡¯s just a friend!¡±

    James nodded knowingly. ¡°Uh-huh, I had some just friends when I was fourteen, too. Just friends becomes just dating quick once the hormones start flyi¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nope. Nuh-uh. Not having this conversation. No thank you.¡±

    ¡°Course, your grandfather won¡¯t approve. No political value in you getting with this Tania. But screw ¡®em. Half the girls I dated were to spite the old man¡ª¡±

    Terry used all of his new speed to snag a pair of underwear before retreating behind the bathroom door. Why is my skin so red? He wondered, catching his reflection in the mirror. Obviously the inflammation from the body tempering¡­obviously.

    His father¡¯s voice echoed through the door. ¡°Nothing to be ashamed about, son. Hormones are a hell of a drug. Throw in the pure euphoria of your new powers.¡± He whistled. ¡°Man, I miss my teenage years. The angst, the power exploration, the sex¡ª¡±

    Terry threw the bathroom door open, his mouth gaping.

    ¡°Please, for the love of the Underworld, stop! I beg you!¡±

    His father was biting his lip, clearly to stop himself from bursting out in laughter.

    Terry gave him a deadpan look. ¡°You¡¯re messing with me, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The dam broke and James guffawed into his hand, a deep, bass-filled laugh that Terry felt in his chest. He watched his father with as stoic an expression as he could muster, waiting expectantly for the laughter to die down so he could properly scold the man. But just as it was waning, James looked up through teary eyes and a whole new round of laughter started up.

    Eventually, Terry couldn¡¯t even force himself to pretend to be annoyed. Seeing his father so happy broke the mask, filling his chest with warmth that he couldn¡¯t attribute to any fever. His own¡ªmore subdued¡ªlaugh broke free and the two of them shared that moment for another few beats before it died down naturally.

    Suddenly, James snapped his fingers. ¡°Oh! I almost forgot.¡± He rushed out of the bedroom, leaving Terry staring after him in bewildered surprise. He returned a moment later with a black garment bag held up high to keep from dragging.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Terry asked.

    ¡°Your outfit for the festivities.¡± James reached for the zipper.

    ¡°I was just gonna wear a t-shirt and jeans,¡± he replied numbly.

    James'' hand faltered, his eyes whipping back in surprise. ¡°T-shirt and¡ªare you kidding me? Terry, all of Wichita is gonna see you in the parade. All your favorite supers at the party. You want me to introduce you to Dancer wearing a t-shirt and jeans?¡± He suddenly shrugged, dropping his hand from the zipper. ¡°Sure, what do I know about teenagers¡¯ fashion, anyway. You¡¯re right, let¡¯s go with the t-shirt and jeans.¡± He called out to the hallway. ¡°Crunch! Could you come grab this. Donate it to some youth founda¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hold on a second,¡± Terry said with a bit of panic. ¡°Let me see it.¡± His father gave him a wry look, so he affected a casual tone. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not totally terrible. But don¡¯t get your feelings hurt if it doesn¡¯t match up to my t-shirt and jeans.¡±

    James put a hand to his heart in mock pain. ¡°When did I give you the impression I was that sensitive?¡± Dropping the act, he reached up to the zipper once again. ¡°You¡¯ll probably hate it.¡± Then he unzipped the bag and pulled out what had been hidden inside.

    Terry had been prepared to keep the game going, feign reluctance and claim the outfit was gauche or hideous or uncool. But when his father pulled the bag back, Terry¡¯s eyes went wide of their own accord.

    Oblivious to his reaction, James turned toward the bed and laid the outfit down, his back to Terry.

    ¡°I know, I know, totally out of style. Crunch, the prince doesn¡¯t like it¡ª¡± He turned back to see Terry¡¯s gob-smacked expression, a wry smile touching his face. ¡°Ohh, you do like it.¡±

    He had trouble finding the words as he approached, holding his hand out to caress the material.

    The outfit that held him enraptured was mostly black with silver stitching. The top was a buttoned up shirt with a collarless neck, silver buttons lining the front. The silver stitching ringed the hem, creating a contrast to the midnight black material. Embossed in the shirt were images that shifted as he changed his angle. At first, he spotted a boy¡ªme, he realized. But at the boy¡¯s side was a long-limbed ghoul and the two of them were staring across at a towering, two-legged beast.

    ¡°Is that me and Crunch facing Savage?¡± he gasped.

    James nodded. ¡°Keep looking.¡±

    Terry approached, the images shifting as if by magic, clear as a picture despite the black-on-black material. It was like a charcoal image relayed in the texture of the cloth.

    It¡¯s Artificed clothing!

    The next image was of a vast silhouette, and the back of that same boy as he faced the creature down.

    ¡°Me and the draugr,¡± he whispered. His father nodded, turning the shirt around to show charcoaled Terry staring on stoically as two patches dragged an unconscious person. ¡°Tenebrous!¡±

    The image on the back shifted once more, showing Terry rising from the Awakening Chamber grave, a smile on his face as his father helped him out.

    ¡°I had that image stitched in last night¡ªwell, this morning,¡± James admitted guiltily. ¡°I lied about being tired so I could get away to see it finished, but then you were so stubborn about the tempering, I¡ª¡±

    He cut off with a choked cry as Terry threw his arms around his neck. After a moment of shock, he chuckled. ¡°So, it¡¯ll do, then? I could still see if some kid¡¯s foundation could find it a home.¡±

    Terry pulled away with a snort.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± His eyes trailed back to the shirt, admiring the silver stitching, the magically embossed imagery, the buttons that he just noticed had little roses punched into their surface. His throat tightened at that last detail and he went back in for a softer hug. ¡°It¡¯ll do.¡±

    <hr>

    When James, Terry, and Crunch approached the palace entry way, Tania, Whipvine, and Mesmer were waiting to see him off. He moved down the stairs with a bit of trepidation, not sure what to expect from their reactions. Tania and Whipvine were laughing about something while Mesmer was conversing with a servant who ran off as they finished.

    Whipvine had his back to Terry, but his hearing would be a hundredfold better than Tania¡¯s and he turned as Terry¡¯s boot scuffed against the carpeted stair. His scars stretched as his eyebrows rose and Terry found the expression difficult to read.

    Tania¡¯s¡­less so.

    ¡°Holy shit!¡± Her voice echoed through the entryway, drawing Mesmer¡¯s attention. The older revenant gave Terry an appraising up and down look, a smile on his face.

    ¡°Prince James, who¡¯s this man?¡± Whipvine¡¯s voice boomed out. ¡°And what have you done with little Terry?¡±

    James chuckled at his side, waving in Terry¡¯s direction. ¡°Allow me to introduce my newly-Awakened son, Prince Terrence Fairway the Second, second in line for the throne and a registered Alterant-Class super.¡±

    ¡°Hot¡ª¡± Tania choked, her eyes suddenly going wide. She looked between Terry and Whipvine in a panic. ¡°Is-is it hot in here?¡± Her cheeks visibly turned red as the four of them stared at her¡ªTerry, in shock, the others with amusement. ¡°Anyone?¡± she continued desperately. ¡°I¡¯m hot. I¡¯m gonna¡ª¡± She indicated the front door with a thumb, then rushed away.

    As she fled, Terry noticed her own outfit¡ªa white sun-dress with honest-to-god high heels. Instead of flowers or some other feminine design, small black skulls adorned the dress. And he couldn¡¯t deny it¡­he really enjoyed watching her storm out, her high heels clacking on the stone, her legs flashing subtly as the hem of her dress twirled. Suddenly, he was eternally grateful to his father for making him a proper outfit. The idea of arriving in a t-shirt and jeans while Tania looked like that was possibly the most embarrassing thing he could imagine in this moment.

    His father sighed at his side, watching him wistfully. ¡°Ah, to be a teenager again.¡±

    Terry spun on his father. ¡°I will literally kill you,¡± he muttered under his breath.

    James laughed at that, patting him on the back as he continued down the stairs to clasp hands with Whipvine.

    ¡°By the Underworld, you¡¯re looking suave, young Terry.¡± Whipvine studied the imagery on the Artificed clothing, doing a complete circuit as he took it all in. Terry held up his hands so the man could get a proper view. ¡°Powerful, yet sophisticated.¡± He nodded toward James. ¡°Well done, Prince James. Didn¡¯t know you had the fashion sense to pull it off, being honest.¡±

    James chuckled, nodding in agreement. ¡°I took some consultations, but even I was surprised how well it came out. And Terry¡¯s frame is filling it out nicely, as the girl obviously noticed.¡±

    Whip and his father laughed at that as Terry tried to sink into himself.

    Mesmer shook his head like a disappointed parent watching two kids laughing at a crass joke.

    ¡°You look like a prince, Terry,¡± Mesmer said. ¡°And I can¡¯t help but see your mother when I look in your eyes.¡± He turned to Whipvine and James. ¡°It¡¯s striking, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    They both sobered at that, nodding agreement. ¡°Uncanny, really,¡± Whipvine replied.

    James remained silent, but Terry could see the pride in his eyes.

    After a moment of building awkwardness, James slapped an arm around Terry¡¯s shoulders.

    ¡°Come on, son. Wichita awaits.¡±

 Chapter 33: Panic at the Disco

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 57:2:8 16:07 local time)

    Maxwell Porter (Dancer)

    Summary

    Maxwell Porter (chosen super moniker: Dancer (formerly Disco)), is an S-ranked Visionary (confirmed). He is a part of the designated (Originals) that first accepted (the Call) in Year 0 (1982 in the pre-super era calendar) and is considered by many to be the first S-ranked super. His age is uncertain, but estimates suggest he was born around the Year -77 (1905) though the exact date is unknown, making him the oldest living human on record (needs citation).

    After returning from his (Capstone Quest) in Year 13, he changed his super name from Disco to Dancer. Shortly after his return, (Tempest) announced her return and tensions began to rise between the supporters of each S-ranked super. After (Tempest) used her powers to destroy Washington D.C. in Year 18, the (Second American Civil War) officially began.

    The death of (Tempest) led to the dissolution of the (United States) into individual regions ruled locally by resident S- and A-rank supers, deemed (The Splintering). Dancer currently resides over the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion) as President and has often served as mediator when other super groups have clashed (needs citation).

    Powerset

    Believed to be a single-class super, evidence suggests that Dancer has remained a Visionary since answering (the Call). He is the first S-ranked super and considered by many in the super community to be the most powerful super in the western hemisphere, if not the world (needs citation).

    Despite his modern popularity and critical role as leader of the anti-Tempest coalition during the (Second American Civil War), very little is known about his powerset. Like other Visionary-Class supers, it is suspected that his powers center around influencing his surroundings. More than that is pure speculation.

    + Visionary (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    + Visionary (C to S)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Upon returning from his (Capstone Quest) in Year 13, Dancer remained relatively under the radar, despite his popularity as the first recognized S-ranker. It was only after (Tempest) proclaimed that the American west coast was seceding from the (United States) did Dancer take the public stage.

    He formed the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion) which united most of the American east coast, as well as formed an alliance with the super communities of the Midwest, extending as far as the former state of Texas. Only the former state of Florida maintains no ties with the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion) as of Year 57, remaining under the control of (The Swarm).

    With the death of (Tempest), it was expected for Dancer and the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion) to assert dominion of the west and re-establish the United States of America. To the surprise of many, he stayed true to his claims that the SPC was not an expansionist organization and would only accept other communities of their own free will.

    Many isolated cities spread throughout North America have pledged allegiance or alliance to the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion), enjoying the protection of the continent¡¯s largest super group and most powerful super (needs citation), despite hundreds or even thousands of miles separating them from the SPC¡¯s home base on the east coast.

    Speculation among the super community suggests that Dancer and the existence of the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion) are the sole reasons the other large super blocs of the world haven¡¯t invaded North America (needs citation).

    Supers for Peaceful Cohesion Members

    <ul>

    <li>New York City</li>

    <li>Philadelphia</li>

    <li>Washington D.C.</li>

    <li>Boston</li>

    <li>Richmond</li>

    </ul>

    (29 entries. Click to expand)

    In Media

    <ul>

    <li>Dancer Saves America ¡ª Documentary</li>

    <li>Disco: the story of Dancer¡¯s Rise to Fame ¡ª Mini-Series (1 Season)</li>

    <li>Heroes Never Lose ¡ª Ongoing Series (6 Seasons ¡ª 26 appearances)</li>

    <li>Dancing in a Tempest: the Splintering of America ¡ª Documentary</li>

    <li>My Greatest Triumphs: the Dancer Story ¡ª Documentary</li>

    </ul>

    (13 Entries. Click to expand)

    Humanitarian Efforts and Contributions

    (click to expand)

    Personal Life

    (click to expand)

    Notable Exploits

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    The last time Terry had seen this many people together at one time had been for his mother¡¯s funeral procession. Despite what should have been a more festive occasion, the crowd seemed wilted, almost more morose than that day six months back.

    He stood on a parade float stylized to look like grasping skeletal hands held him propped up above the ground. His grandfather¡¯s spectral mount pulled the float¡ªa blue-white spirit that fuzzed in his vision when he looked directly at it. This appeared to be the same spirit beast he¡¯d seen in the feeds of his grandfather rescuing him from Savage, but he had no memory of seeing the spirit before then or since. He supposed it was a great honor to be escorted by what was probably a limited time Summons of the Emperor.

    Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t let himself feel any gravitas in the moment due to the melancholic crowd lining the boulevard. When his mother¡¯s casket had been carried down this same street, the crowd had thrown white roses and chanted her name. Now, they watched his passage with gloomy expressions, their eyes sunken, their postures defeated.

    A hundred ghouls roamed with the float, forming a ring around him as if they expected the crowd to swarm any moment. Terry had begged his father to call them off when he¡¯d first noticed them, but now¡­

    Now, he wasn¡¯t so sure they wouldn¡¯t be needed.

    As the float moved to the front of the palace, the promenade came into view high above. The exact same promenade he¡¯d watched from as his mother¡¯s funeral procession passed. When he came into view, a cheer went up from there, filling him with a bit of hope that this entire event wouldn¡¯t pass in awkward silence.

    He looked up to see Tania at the balcony railing, hollering encouragement. Next to her, Whipvine put his fingers to his lips and let out a series of whistles to cheer him on. His father was beside him, clapping and offering him a thumbs up in support.

    Terry waved back awkwardly, feeling the restless energy from the crowd on the other side of him.

    A shout rang out from the crowd, pulling his attention away from the promenade.

    ¡°Prince Terry! Prince Terry!¡± He turned back, scanning the mass of people but not spotting the person. He waved in response, then faltered at the man¡¯s next words. ¡°Where¡¯s the food! We¡¯re hungry!¡± A small chorus of agreement rang out from the nearby people. ¡°Where¡¯s the food, Prince Terry?¡±

    His hand dropped and he cast a furtive look toward the promenade. He opened his mouth to reply, but what could he say?

    ¡°I¡­¡±

    Another voice cried out. ¡°My daughter¡¯s been missing for three weeks! Who¡¯s gonna stop those bloodsuckers from stealing our babies!¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging in shock.

    More shouts called out, anger, frustration, desperation all mingled into a melting pot of noise. The people in the back pushed forward, shoving those in the front forward. Panicked expressions formed as those trapped in the middle were squeezed between the bodies.

    ¡°Don¡¯t push!¡± Terry called out, raising his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture. ¡°Don¡¯t push!¡±

    His voice was lost against the crowd as cries of panic joined the cries of anger.

    When the first people were shoved off the sidewalk and into the boulevard, Terry noticed the ghouls¡¯ auras flare as they began to communicate silently with each other. Those nearest to the crowd approached and began shoving back, their superhuman strength sending bodies stumbling back into the wall of people.

    Terry felt his stomach flip, bile rising in his throat. Without thinking, he leaped from the float, landing from the ten foot jump with incredible ease. But there was no time to marvel in his newfound body¡ªthe crowd was beginning to turn into a stampede, fueled by their fear of the encroaching undead.

    He pushed past the ghouls, flaring his aura as wide as he could, demanding their attention. He couldn¡¯t remember the aura shape for stand down, but his lungs were working fine.

    ¡°Stand down! Stand down! Don¡¯t create a pani¡ª¡±

    Something shoved into his back and he stumbled forward into a ghoul¡¯s arms. Clacking ghoulish rang out, filled with violent purpose. Terry felt his heart thrumming in his throat as he whirled around to stop them.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    A sound cut through the panic and mayhem like a knife, accompanied by a blast of aura that rolled over Terry, the ghouls, and the people, freezing everyone in place like a tableau.

    ¡°ENOUGH!¡±

    He recovered a moment later, feeling his own aura fight against the hold on his body. When he turned toward the origin of the sound, he spotted the Emperor at the promenade railing, his blackwood scythe in his hand, his burning ivory-mask covering his face.

    Below the promenade, his father was running toward him¡ªclearly having jumped off to the street below. Whipvine appeared from nowhere as if by magic, the wind of his arrival ruffling Terry¡¯s hair.

    He looked at the crowd, seeing the panic and terror in their frozen expressions as they stood helpless. Some of them began to blink and come out of the daze, while others were slower to recover.

    ¡°Is this how you treat your prince!¡± Whipvine barked, his voice cutting across the crowd like one of his whips, snapping everyone out of their aura daze at the same time.

    James appeared at his side a moment later, gripping him by his shoulders.

    ¡°You okay, son?¡±

    Terry nodded, his own daze lingering¡ªnot from the Emperor, but from the adrenaline dump.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get you inside,¡± his father said. He turned his eyes up to the crowd, fire burning in his gaze. But Terry pulled him back.

    ¡°It¡¯s not their fault,¡± he said softly. ¡°They¡¯re just scared and hungry.¡±

    The fire in his father¡¯s eyes softened, the anger smoothing out as he pursed his lips.

    ¡°Disperse now,¡± James called out, his voice echoing. ¡°Parade¡¯s over.¡±

    The crowd was slow to react, lost, aimless. They ambled about, trying to find their bearings as they filtered away. Whipvine stayed with the ghouls as James led him toward the palace.

    His Quest loomed in his mind and he pulled it up with a thought.

    Quest Given: [Feed Wichita]

    Grow enough food to supplement Topeka¡¯s inflows.

    Deadline: 275 days remaining until famine riots

    Reward: Variable

    275 days, nearly an entire year¡­yet, they¡¯re already shouting out that they¡¯re hungry. Which means things are are only going to get worse in the coming months. And that woman said her daughter was missing. There was no way the sanguine were actually stealing Wichitan citizens¡­right?

    But then Terry remembered that his own grandfather had placed that deranged draugr at the gates knowing¡ªexpecting¡ªthere would be a body toll. Inviting blood-hungry vampires and letting them range among the citizens wasn¡¯t completely unrealistic.

    As his father escorted him back to the palace, his mind reeled from the near-violence and the foreboding Quest hovering in his vision.

    ¡°Dad?¡±

    James cast him a quick glance, a harried expression in his eyes. ¡°You okay, Terry?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He hesitated, unable to reveal the details of his Quest, but also, longing for answers. ¡°The situation with the food seems to be getting worse¡­¡±

    James pursed his lips, his brow furrowed. It was a moment before he responded.

    ¡°It¡¯s not great, I¡¯ll admit. Topeka is supplementing as much as it can but¡­¡± He trailed off with a shrug.

    ¡°What¡¯s the Emperor doing about it?¡± Terry feared his father¡¯s reaction at the mention of his own father¡ªthe memory of the hate rolling off his aura before Terry¡¯s Awakening stood fresh in his mind. But James didn¡¯t lash out or curse his father. Instead, he sighed wearily.

    ¡°Invading Topeka was his one and only move, Terry. There¡¯s nothing else to be done.¡±

    Terry stopped and his father turned to regard him with raised eyebrows.

    ¡°He could¡­let people leave,¡± he ventured. ¡°Reduce the strain on the food supply.¡±

    James closed his eyes, rubbing a hand across his face. Despite being freshly shaved and dressed for the party, his father had never looked more tired.

    ¡°You¡¯ve probably noticed, but your grandfather and I haven¡¯t been on the same page for a while now. It¡¯s only been exacerbated by the¡­death of your mother and the invasion of Topeka.¡±

    Terry bit his lip, wondering how much to say. After a moment, he decided just to dive in.

    ¡°I felt your aura¡ªbefore my Awakening, I mean. In the throne room. It felt like¡­you hated your father.¡±

    James looked off, scanning the nearly-dispersed crowd, the teams of ghouls escorting them away. Then his eyes trailed up to the promenade where Tania still lingered over the side, looking down at them. Terry cast her a distracted wave, then pointed to the palace to indicate they were coming before turning back to his father.

    ¡°Terry.¡± His father¡¯s voice was hesitant, almost sounding¡­scared. He tried to parse the man¡¯s aura to understand what was causing that fear, but James had pulled it in tight. ¡°The past few hours with you have been the best hours of my life since the attack.¡±

    Terry¡¯s throat tightened, but he forced the words through anyway. ¡°Me, too, dad.¡±

    James nodded, a sad smile touching his lips. ¡°I¡­know I¡¯ve been a shit father these past few months. As much as it sounds like an excuse, I think I needed the time away to¡­work on myself, maybe. But now that I¡¯m back, I don¡¯t want to leave.¡±

    Terry felt his stomach drop as his thoughts followed the natural direction of those words.

    ¡°But your father is making you return to Topeka, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    James¡¯ aura flickered at that, breaking past his tight control for a split second. But Terry saw the pain, the anger written in that single moment of vulnerability. His father¡¯s eyes lit up, his gaze hardening as he stared at Terry.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell him no. Our relationship is more important.¡±

    Terry thought of those people shouting out their hunger; the Quest promising greater strife and violence.

    ¡°More important than feeding Wichita?¡± Terry asked quietly.

    His father faltered, words dying on his lips. Then, ¡°He can send someone else, dammit. You need me here.¡±

    Terry wanted to agree, was desperate to have his father nearby now that they¡¯d begun to rebuild their relationship¡­

    But not at the expense of people¡¯s lives.

    Before he could say as much, he caught Whipvine approaching from where the crowds had finally dispersed.

    ¡°We¡¯ll talk after the party,¡± his father whispered, turning to face the revenant.

    Whipvine shook his head as he joined them. ¡°Well, that was a shit show.¡±

    James scoffed, but he had a distracted look. Terry felt the same, his thoughts conflicted.

    Is it selfish to want my dad with me? I¡¯m still a kid, even if I do have super powers now.

    It is if it means people starving to death. It is if it means you fail your Quest and Wichita falls into chaos¡­

    ¡°Come on,¡± Whip continued, putting an arm around Terry and James. ¡°Let¡¯s get inside. This fog stinks.¡±

    <hr>

    Later that day, Terry was standing outside the doors of the ballroom he¡¯d almost never had any occasion to enter. Two familiar patches stood guard outside the tall doors, pulled from the Evolution Chamber for the event.

    ¡°Tom. Jerry,¡± he said with a nod. He¡¯d taken to calling them that and they hadn¡¯t protested, so the names had stuck. He flared his aura out in greeting and was pleased that they acknowledged his presence with the return gesture. There was no series of images like when he¡¯d linked up with Hoping Tree, but there was no sense of malaise or hate there either, which he counted as a win.

    At his side, he felt Mesmer regard him with an inquisitive look and he shrugged in reply.

    ¡°I like humanizing them and they don¡¯t seem to mind.¡±

    The older revenant tilted his head in thought, then shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m told Team Dallas and the Council¡¯s representatives have already arrived.¡± A subtle frown shifted across his lips. ¡°Dancer is tardy.¡±

    A thrill filled him, offset by his nervousness. He¡¯d never enjoyed being the center of attention and the fiasco that was the parade only solidified that reluctance inside him. But he was excited to meet Team Dallas and whoever the Council sent.

    Dancer arriving later was just the cherry on top.

    ¡°Who¡¯d the Council send?¡± he asked.

    Please be Lady. Please be Lady. He couldn¡¯t deny that there were a bevy of reasons he was hoping for Lady¡ªone of those being, she was incredibly beautiful. There¡¯d been a phase where it was her on his wall rather than the Siren. He¡¯d rotated them out as his obsession with the Knights of Sol had intensified. But he¡¯d always loved Lady, for boyish reasons, as well as for her Class¡ªshe was one of the only A-rank Amplifiers in the region.

    ¡°Tinker¡¯s come representing their S-ranks,¡± Mesmer replied.

    That didn¡¯t completely disappoint Terry, but it also didn¡¯t wow him. Tinker had a fascinating powerset as an S-ranked Artificer. But his reputation was that he enjoyed his gadgets more than people. Terry couldn¡¯t blame him, but he doubted the powerful super would make for very interesting conversation.

    ¡°For the As¡ª¡± Terry didn¡¯t quite hold his breath, but Mesmer¡¯s eyes narrowed as he picked up Terry¡¯s obvious attention. ¡°¡ªthey sent Lady.¡±

    An involuntary smile split his face and he bit his lip to try and reign it in. Mesmer¡¯s eyebrows rose, but he had the grace not to embarrass Terry.

    ¡°For the Bs, they sent Surf.¡±

    That surprised Terry a bit. The B-ranked Elementalist was new to the Council¡ªperhaps they were using this as an opportunity to introduce him to the region¡¯s powerful supers?

    ¡°Team Dallas sent Hopper for the S-ranks¡ª¡± Terry¡¯s eyes widened at that. Hopper was one of the only S-ranked Traveler categorized on HeroWatch¡ªa rarity among an already rare Class. He found himself forgetting all about Lady as his excitement to ask Hopper about her Class replaced the childish infatuation for the A-ranked Amplifier. Plus, he knew Tania would be dying to grill the super who stood at the pinnacle of the Class she hoped to Awaken to.

    ¡°Rocket for the As,¡± Mesmer continued. ¡°And the Portent for the Bs.¡±

    Terry nodded at the inclusion of Rocket. His grandfather had a history with the A-ranked Duelist, so that had been expected. Sending the Portent was¡­an interesting choice. She had a reputation as a bit eccentric¡ªthough, most of the Seer Class did.

    Still, the news of the powerful and interesting supers attending his Awakening party did much to buoy his spirits after the disaster of the parade earlier.

    ¡°Wow, it¡¯s crazy to think I¡¯ve had some of these people on my wall,¡± he said with a grin.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope they live up to your expectations. They say you should never meet your heroes.¡±

    Terry snorted. ¡°Yeah, or they might try and kidnap you.¡±

    Mesmer chuckled, shaking his head at the macabre humor. After a moment, he schooled his expression and turned to face Terry with an appraising look. The revenant looked him over, scuffing some unseen dust off his shoulders and running his hand down the front of Terry¡¯s shirt to smooth out a wrinkle.

    When he was done, he gave Terry a nod.

    ¡°How do I look?¡± Terry asked with a grin. ¡°Presentable enough to go meet my heroes?¡±

    Mesmer shook his head, his lips turning up in a matching grin. ¡°No. You look ready to go join your heroes.¡±

    With that, Mesmer gave a signal and the two patches heaved the ballroom doors open. The revenant stepped through first, his aura flaring out wide to encompass the ballroom.

    ¡°Attention, please.¡± His voice boomed to match his aura. Terry glanced past the man, his eyes catching on the powerful supers and non-supers in attendance. His stomach flipped at the sight, and he forced himself to take a steadying breath. ¡°It is my honor to present, Prince Terrence Fairway, second of his name, second in line for the throne of the Wichita-Topeka Protectorate, and a newly-Awakened Alterant-Class super!¡±

    Polite claps rang out and a moment later, a line began to form at the door. Mesmer stepped to the side, and Terry found himself face-to-face with an intimidating line of adults¡ªmany of them A- or even S-ranked. He gulped, straightened his posture, and strode forward to meet them.

    <hr>

    The line of greeters went by in a daze. Blue-costumed Surf. The Portent in head-to-toe black as if she were in mourning. Lady in her skin-tight spandex that had his palms sweating. Tinker with his bionic eyes and distracted gaze¡ªthough he did compliment Terry on his outfit briefly. Hopper with a whimsical smile and heartfelt words of encouragement.

    His father, shaking his hand with a sheen in his eyes.

    Tania, somehow eclipsing even Lady with her more subdued beauty¡ªright up until she punched him in the shoulder and snorted humorously as he rubbed at the spot.

    A bevy of important Wichitan officials that were too numerous for him to remember them all.

    And last, his grandfather, decked out in full bone armor¡ªthough his scythe and mask were nowhere to be seen. As they clasped hands¡ªfor the first time in Terry¡¯s life, he realized¡ªhe felt the man¡¯s aura up close and personal. It radiated out more powerfully than any other super in attendance. Towering, dense, impenetrable to his senses. To the Waker, it was as dim as a candle. But compared to his father or Mesmer, it was as bright as the sun.

    As they shook hands, the Emperor eyed Terry¡¯s Artificed clothes with pursed lips, before turning his gaze up.

    ¡°Your father¡¯s doing?¡± his grandfather asked.

    Terry glanced down at his buttoned-up shirt, then nodded hesitantly. Was he mad? Terry wondered.

    ¡°Hm, it suits you. So, does Awakened life live up to your¡ª¡±

    The air shuddered, energy condensing, pulled to the center of the room like there was a black hole. Every eye in the room turned as one to regard the elderly man who hadn¡¯t been there a second earlier. He stood bent at the back, like age weighed him down, but he nonetheless possessed a gravity and power about him that belied his posture. In Terry¡¯s vision, he almost glowed, like a spotlight shone on him while the rest of the stage hung heavy with darkness.

    The old man cast a beaming smile around him, holding his hands up as if to say his sudden arrival had been an accident. At his side, a diminutive, previously-unnoticed man stood in the older man¡¯s shadow.

    No, Terry realized, the smaller man wasn¡¯t actually smaller. It was just that he appeared that way next to the beacon that was his companion.

    The slightly hunched man whispered something to the second man, and a flash of power flared for an instant and the second man disappeared.

    A Traveler! He arrived via Traveler!

    ¡°Apologies for my tardiness,¡± the older man said, addressing the room. ¡°My old brain gets confused with the timezone differences.¡± The easygoing smile on his face eased any tension at his unexpected magical arrival.

    ¡°Dancer,¡± the Emperor replied, his tone flat. ¡°Of course, we understand. We half-expected you¡¯d broken a hip on the way over.¡±

    Terry¡¯s breath caught at the casual insult, but Dancer simply laughed, his aura reacting with each beat, suffusing the room, then contracting.

    In a moment of sheer awe, he realized that Dancer¡¯s aura was orders of magnitude greater than his grandfather¡¯s. It encompassed everything and everyone in the large ballroom, like they were bathing in an ocean of Dancer¡¯s power.

    ¡°Terry, good to see you¡¯ve maintained your deadly wit.¡± Terry flinched, then realized the old super had been addressing his grandfather. ¡°It¡¯s so sad when age addles the brain. Wouldn¡¯t wish it on my worst enemy.¡±

    Terry glanced over to see his grandfather¡¯s jaw clenched, but Dancer didn¡¯t give the Emperor time to respond. With a shift of his gaze, the weight of the world seemed to fall upon Terry¡¯s shoulders. The first S-ranked super regarded him with both his eyes and his aura, a gentle¡ªalmost senile¡ªsmile on his face.

    ¡°Ah, and this must be the star of the show! Welcome to the fight, young Terry.¡±

    Terry¡¯s feet seemed to move of their own accord, as if Dancer were reeling him in with a magnetic gaze. Before he realized it, he was standing before the grey-haired super, his skin wrinkled, yet full of vitality. Terry stared into the man¡¯s eyes, noticing the pure violet that reminded him of Mesmer when his powers flared.

    ¡°You¡¯re looking hale,¡± Dancer said with an appreciative nod, his eyes trailing up and down Terry. His aura encompassed Terry at the same time, seeming to see all of Terry at once. ¡°Duelist?¡± Dancer asked with an inquisitive tone, his voice low.

    Terry hesitated for a moment, then realized the question was directed toward him. ¡°Uh, Alterant, sir.¡±

    Dancer¡¯s eyes suddenly narrowed, his aura pressing in tighter, practically suffocating. The world around Terry dimmed, time slowing, everything going black except for the old man now seeming to stare directly into his soul.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been body tempering, young lad. Don¡¯t lie to me.¡±

    The gentle, grandfatherly facade shattered in an instant, replaced with a piercing gaze and a sharp tone.

    Terry¡¯s throat tightened, his heart suddenly pounding in his throat.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m not, sir. I¡¯m a-an Alterant.¡±

    Dancer¡¯s lips turned down in a frown. ¡°Show me your Skills.¡±

    Terry gulped, trying to turn his head, look for help from his father or Whipvine or Mesmer. But he couldn¡¯t move¡ªcould barely breathe. His vision tunneled down to a pinprick, flashing black at the edges in time with the pounding of his heart.

    He mentally summoned his chat with his father, but the System interface felt sluggish, like there was resistance between his thoughts and reality.

    Dad¡­help. He tried to type the words with his thoughts, but there was no feedback or visual to indicate success.

    Dancer¡¯s face seemed to soften, a sad pursing of his lips as he regarded Terry¡¯s struggle.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fight me, lad. I wouldn¡¯t want to crush you accid¡ª¡±

    A sensation touched Terry¡ªphysically and metaphysically¡ªlike a cool sea breeze against his skin. Pressure settled on his shoulder, anchoring his aura, extracting him from Dancer¡¯s suffocating grip. His vision irised out, his surroundings reclaimed from the void of that terrible compartmentalization. The sad, sympathetic expression on Dancer¡¯s face melted away, replaced by wide-eyed surprise, then a scowl.

    Terry turned to see who had extricated him from Dancer¡¯s grip, expecting his grandfather or maybe his father. His breath caught as he recognized his savior; silver hair pulled tight into a bun, his eyes twinkling with obvious pleasure.

    Silver looked down at Terry, the corner of one lip turning up in a smirk.

    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late, kid. My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.¡±

 Chapter 34: Silver

    The world seemed to shift beneath Terry¡¯s feet, too many things happening at once for his barely-superpowered mind to track.

    Aura¡¯s flared, the wind of superhuman movement ruffled his hair, voices cried out in panic, anger, surprise.

    ¡°Lady! Amplify me!¡±

    That was Dancer¡¯s voice, no longer filled with good-natured mirth or that low, dangerous tone he¡¯d only shown Terry. Instead, it was filled with command, warping the air and the aura in the ballroom with this immutable demand. In his gut, he knew that Lady would obey, that the world would fall into line before the grace and unyielding power of Dancer¡¯s aura.

    But Terry¡¯s body shifted, dragged through space so sudden and fast his stomach rolled. Without understanding how, he found himself beside Lady, whose eyes were saucers, her mouth gaping open in terror.

    His mind was slow to process why, but then time seemed to return to normal speed, and all the supers in the room stood frozen, a bizarre moment stretched out into the tableau before him.

    Silver¡¯s hand was wrapped around Lady¡¯s throat¡ªa loose, easy grip, but a grip nonetheless. Dancer stood where he¡¯d always been, halfway across the room, his face pinched tight in a scowl. Nearby, Hopper had ripped a hole in space, her expression wary as she prepared to pass through to safety. Tinker was on the opposite side of the ballroom, now encased in a full suit of Artificer armor that had materialized from nowhere. Despite the battle form, his gaze was inquisitive, even fascinated, as he fiddled with his bionic eyes and stared toward Silver, Lady, and Terry.

    The moment lasted for less than a blink, then a voice cut through it all, powerful, commanding, and terrified.

    ¡°Get your fucking hands off my son!¡±

    Terry turned to see his father in full bone-armor, Skol and Hati growling at his side, their hackles raised. Beside him, the Emperor had also donned his armor, his scythe in his hands. But his burning green eyes seemed more subdued, bordering on annoyed, rather than afraid or angry.

    In a flash of awareness, Terry realized Dancer¡¯s stranglehold over him was gone. The message he had queued up in his mind had sent of its own accord.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Dad! Help!

    [James]: You¡¯re okay, son! This fucker just walked into a viper¡¯s nest. We¡¯re gonna get you back safe. Promise.

    </blockquote>

    As he read his father¡¯s reply, his eyes went wide.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Not from Silver! From Dancer! He tried to force me to reveal my Skills. His aura felt like it was going to kill me!

    </blockquote>

    He sent the message, his eyes glued to his father¡¯s, waiting for the recognition to register. The surprise, the quick glance toward Dancer, confirmed that he¡¯d understood where the danger lie¡ªor at least, that there was more than one dangerous foe present.

    Silver¡¯s face had never shifted in the few seconds that had passed, his small smirk flashing confidently as he regarded each of the powerful supers gearing up to take him on.

    ¡°Everybody calm down.¡± His voice was smooth, steady, like he was mediating a sibling¡¯s dispute rather than facing down a handful of S- and A-ranked supers. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to fight.¡±

    The Emperor strode forward, his blackwood scythe held loosely in one hand. ¡°Then why are you here? Announce yourself and unhand the girl.¡±

    Silver glanced toward Lady, whose face was beginning to purple. He pursed his lips and relaxed his grip. ¡°Sorry, dear, don¡¯t know my own strength sometimes.¡± Her eyes flicked around, looking for help as Silver leaned in close. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything rash, yeah?¡± He nodded to emphasize the point.

    She echoed his nod, her movements erratic, tinged with terror. Silver flashed her a beaming, white-toothed smile and let her go. Lady immediately recoiled, taking five frantic steps backward before rushing over to the safety of Tinker, who didn¡¯t even acknowledge her presence.

    During this, Terry had been watching his father, wondering how the man would react. He¡¯d been glancing toward Dancer surreptitiously, then toward his own father. Terry got the impression a private conversation had been going on while Silver had been talking to Lady.

    A moment later, a message rolled in.

    <blockquote>

    [James]: I told the Emperor. Try to get away from the S-ranker. As soon as you can, shield behind the patches.

    </blockquote>

    They couldn¡¯t possibly be considering a fight with Silver? I¡¯ve seen what he can do, how fast he moved. Even if the S-rankers took him down, none of the A-rankers stood a chance of walking away from that clash, let alone me¡­

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Dad, he¡¯s the one that saved me from the draugr. You don¡¯t need to fight!

    [James]: He¡¯s the interloper, Terry. Your grandfather has to defend his territory if challenged. All we can do is try to get to safety if it goes down that way.

    </blockquote>

    Silver¡¯s grip on Terry was loose, more of an anchoring than a tight hold. He felt that he could slip away if he wanted to¡ªthough he knew Silver could move faster than he could even track. But there was something about the man that comforted him¡ªa familiarity in his grip that put Terry at ease. Maybe it was some sense of obligation from Silver saving him from the draugr. Maybe it was because the super had saved him from Dancer¡¯s grip. Whatever it was, he felt it in his bones¡ªSilver was one of the good ones.

    The tension in the air was electrifying, each powerful super angling to either flee or engage, depending on their rank and powerset. The non-Awakened were frozen still, in fear or from Dancer''s aura, Terry couldn''t tell. Silver regarded the Emperor from behind his own mask, their eyes locked in what appeared to be almost a silent struggle¡ªlike children playing at a staring contest.

    The frustration and annoyance suddenly boiled up from nowhere and he ripped out of Silver¡¯s grip, turning to face the man. He kept his body close, hoping his presence would prevent the first blow from the amped-up supers.

    ¡°Silver, what¡¯s going on?¡± Terry demanded. ¡°I appreciate you saving me, but if you don¡¯t explain in the next three seconds, I have a feeling some itchy-trigger fingers are gonna go off, killing me and anyone that isn¡¯t an S-ranker.¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyes widened, his smile faltering for the briefest second, then returning even brighter.

    ¡°I appreciate your spunk, kid.¡± He turned his gaze toward Dancer, then the Emperor, then in a circuit as he regarded the room. ¡°Like I said, I didn¡¯t come here to fight.¡± His eyes cut back toward Terry now, pinning him in place with its weight. ¡°I mostly came here to congratulate my grandson on his Awakening¡ª¡± Terry¡¯s breath caught in his throat. Silver seemed not to notice, his eyes tracking over the room again. ¡°¡ªand to say hello to old friends.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    With that, he reached up and pulled his mask off, revealing smooth skin, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes. Terry gasped at the familiar features.

    ¡°Gunny?¡± the Emperor asked with a hint of surprise. ¡°You¡¯re alive?¡±

    Silver shrugged casually, turning to lock eyes with Dancer before replying. ¡°Back from the dead, you could say.¡±

    For some reason, Terry¡¯s mind couldn¡¯t process everything at once. His grandfather¡¯s recognition of the man, the name he used, the feeling of impending violence not quite dissipated despite everything. All he could think about were those words: my grandson.

    ¡°You¡¯re mom¡¯s dad,¡± he breathed.

    Silver looked from Dancer to regard Terry with a sad smile.

    ¡°Penelope¡¯s my daughter, yes.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything last time?¡±

    Dancer¡¯s voice cut across the room, causing Terry to flinch in surprise. ¡°You¡¯ve met each other before? Why am I just hearing this now?¡± That last question had been directed toward the Emperor, but Silver¡¯s eyes never left Terry¡¯s, anchoring his gaze despite the resurging terror he felt at Dancer¡¯s words.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t know you from Adam, kid. Like I said, been gone a while and got thrown into the shit. By the time I done did my research, you were safe and my Quests were pulling me away.¡± His gaze finally left Terry¡¯s, sliding up toward Dancer with silver fire flickering in his eyes. ¡°Looks like I came back in the nick o¡¯ time.¡±

    ¡°Terrence, I asked you a question.¡± The aura in the room flexed and Terry¡¯s head whipped around toward Dancer. The older man¡¯s hands were clenched into fists, his eyes opaque balls of violet. Terrible power surged off the man, enveloping the entire room in a suffocating ocean of aura.

    Terry¡¯s grandfather didn¡¯t react, his scythe still gripped loosely, his eyes burning embers behind his bone mask. But to his aura sense, the Emperor appeared in his mind like a rock weathering the storm, his aura held tight, a lone island defying the ocean. At his side, James held out his hand, gripping his father¡¯s arm and combining their auras to keep from being dominated. Whipvine, Mesmer, and the other revenants joined them. Around the room, the other lower ranks were doing the same, connecting with or hiding behind their S-ranked leaders.

    But the regular people weren¡¯t so lucky. Those that had been too stunned to flee were now being buffeted by winds they couldn¡¯t see. They lay curled up on the ground, clutching their heads, some even seizing before the onslaught. Terry spotted Tania across the room, laying on the floor as her body shook.

    He felt his blood surge, a consuming anger rising inside of him. Though he knew his power wasn¡¯t even in the same realm as Dancer, that Silver¡¯s aura was shielding him even now, the rage blinded him. The need to act infecting his entire body.

    He took a single step forward, then stopped as a hand gripped his shoulder. He looked back to see Silver¡¯s face¡ªhis mother¡¯s face, though more masculine¡ªstaring back at him with that easygoing smile.

    ¡°I got this one, kiddo.¡±

    Before Terry could respond, Silver blurred. In a blink, he was standing before Dancer. The waves of aura rolling off the man suddenly surged, turning to focus on Silver. They crashed into him and Terry felt himself holding his breath, waiting for the strongest S-ranker¡¯s power to tear Silver apart. But as the waves converged, they didn¡¯t seem to hit Silver, but rather absorb into him. The smile faltered, turning into a grimace, but his body stayed upright. The un-Awakened in the room stopped convulsing and Terry watched as they stumbled to their feet and fled. Tania hesitated across the ballroom, but he waved her away urgently. She faltered a moment longer, then joined the rest of the fleeing people out the door.

    As for the powerful supers who had been bombarded by Dancer¡¯s aura, they suddenly found themselves released from his grip, unharmed and clearly confused.

    The man they had been ready to fight was now intercepting the leader who had been flexing his power over them. Terry understood the conflicting looks they were casting toward each other.

    Through gritted teeth, Silver spoke.

    ¡°You¡­were always¡­a bully, Disco.¡±

    The strain of his voice was mirrored by the sweat now beading down Dancer¡¯s forehead. Though Terry couldn¡¯t understand the battle being fought now, it seemed clear that it wasn¡¯t a one-sided affair.

    Dancer snarled, his hands clenching into fists at his side.

    ¡°And you¡­never knew¡­when you were¡­beat, Gunmetal.¡±

    Gunmetal¡­holy shit! The revelation that his other grandfather was the long-dead super, Gunmetal, didn¡¯t have time to percolate. There was a shift in the aura fluctuating between the two men. Silver closed his eyes, his face smoothing, like the pain had dissipated. To Terry¡¯s aura sense, Dancer had been trying to drown Silver, suffocate him in aura the way he¡¯d been doing to Terry earlier. But now, some sort of blockage released and the aura appeared to enter Silver¡¯s body. He watched it pass through, turn, shift, then begin to cycle in a familiar pattern¡ªa pattern stamped into his brain from hours of traumatic pain.

    Silver was using Dancer¡¯s aura to body temper¡­

    Dancer seemed to feel the tide shift as well. His eyes went wide, his mouth gaping open. A thread snapped, the taut energy between the two men releasing with a sudden tear. Dancer stumbled away, his hand clutched to his chest. Silver stayed in place, but kept his eyes shut, the excess energy poised to tear his body apart if he didn¡¯t properly direct it. Dancer seemed to recognize the moment of initiative.

    ¡°Strike now! While he¡¯s distracted!¡± The words weren¡¯t accompanied by aura like before. They sounded hollow, weak, devoid of import or substance. The lesser ranks seemed to want to obey on instinct; Surf stepped forward, then stopped when he realized Tinker hadn¡¯t moved. Rocket scowled and crossed his arms, while Hopper eyed her still-open portal with a look of longing.

    Only the Emperor moved, his scythe held tight now in his hands. Terry¡¯s eyes widened at the sight.

    ¡°No!¡± he cried, rushing to intercept his grandfather. Before he could interpose himself, his father was blocking him, holding him back. ¡°Dad, no! Don¡¯t let him!¡±

    James looked down at his son, his bone mask dematerializing to reveal the face beneath. There was no fear or trepidation in those eyes. Instead, he regarded Terry with a steadying, confident look.

    ¡°Peace, Terry, peace. Your grandfather knows what he¡¯s doing.¡±

    Terry wanted to buck against his father¡¯s grip, rip out of his hands to save the grandfather he¡¯d only just started to get to know. The Emperor strode up toward Silver, too fast for Terry to break free, to do anything. That scythe hung heavy in his hands, the Emperor¡¯s feet moving implacably, unstoppable, the grim reaper himself arriving to dispense death.

    His heart clenched as waited for that scythe to pass through Silver, waited for it to cut that sole remaining tie to his mother. He wanted to scream, to cry out, but he felt removed from his body, a helpless observer, weak and impotent like always.

    As the Emperor stepped before Silver, the man¡¯s eyes opened and a soft smile touched his lips.

    ¡°Hey, T-Bone,¡± Silver breathed, his voice husky, laced with pain.

    ¡°Gunny,¡± the Emperor replied. Then he moved and Terry¡¯s breath caught.

    But the scythe didn¡¯t pass through Silver, didn¡¯t even move at all. It remained clenched between the Emperor¡¯s hands as he turned to regard the room, before finally locking his eyes on Dancer.

    ¡°The party¡¯s over.¡± His voice boomed out, creating a ripple of shock among the remaining supers. ¡°Hopper, please escort those without transport back to their homes.¡±

    Hopper nodded agreement, creating a series of portals with a flicker of aura. The other supers were more than happy to extricate themselves from the room, rushing toward their designated portals with enthusiasm bordering on panic. Only Tinker and Hopper maintained the dignity of their rank, stepping toward their portals casually.

    ¡°You host the best parties, Terrence,¡± Hopper said with a dazzling smile.

    Tinker hesitated at his portal, turning one longing look toward the remaining supers. To Terry, it looked almost like regret, as if he were disappointed he couldn¡¯t study the powers fluctuating through the room.

    With a sigh, his Artificer armor retracted and he stepped through his portal. Hopper was last to leave, flashing Terry a wink before disappearing.

    Only the supers of Wichita, Silver, and Dancer remained.

    The Emperor regarded Dancer through his bone mask, his eyes flickering embers, his scythe held at the ready.

    Dancer¡¯s face congealed in a snarl, his nose furling, his teeth bared.

    ¡°I would think you¡¯d know better than to make an enemy of me, Terrence.¡±

    Those cold, flickering flames regarded Dancer for a moment, then flicked over to Terry.

    ¡°You attacked an F-ranker at his own Awakening party. Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice.¡±

    ¡°You know our deal¡ª¡± Dancer started, but the Emperor¡¯s voice cut across him.

    ¡°Worse than that! You attacked my grandson! Did you think I¡¯d let that lie? Did you think there would be no consequences?¡±

    Dancer snorted, the contempt writ clear across his face. ¡°You¡¯re quite brave with Gunmetal here. Wonder where this spine was for the last thirty years, hm? I control the western hemisphere, Terrence. Did you forget? Your backwoods bumfuck little town is an afterthought of the coalition I¡¯ve assembled. Beg for forgiveness now, and maybe I won¡¯t have it crushed out of existence.¡±

    Terry was reeling from the shift in Dancer¡¯s personality, so starkly different from the public persona the man presented. But judging by the cold look on the Emperor¡¯s face, this wasn¡¯t the first time the powerful S-ranker had flexed his power over the Free-City of Wichita.

    The Emperor took a single step forward, his scythe held threateningly. Dancer¡¯s eyes widened, his demeanor shifting in an instant.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡± The words sounded weak, even to Terry¡¯s ears.

    The Emperor took another step, nearly in range. Dancer¡¯s aura flared out, but it was clearly drained, weaker than it had been a minute before. Terry¡¯s grandfather faltered for a moment, then took another step.

    Panic flashed across Dancer¡¯s eyes. ¡°You won¡¯t last the day! Stand down, Terrence. Stand down and I¡¯ll forgive this insult.¡±

    ¡°Death is inevitable,¡± the Emperor whispered.

    The scythe arced back, slow and inexorable. Dancer¡¯s aura flashed once more¡ªnot directed toward the Emperor this time, but outward, like a piercing clarion call to some unknown place. As the scythe began to arc forward, a man appeared at Dancer¡¯s side, his eyes widening in surprise as he took the room in at a glance. As the scythe came for both the men, the newcomer¡¯s aura flared bright and quick.

    As the Emperor finished his swing, it passed through thin air.

    Where Dancer had been a moment before, now, there was nothing.

 Chapter 35: Singularity

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 51:02:13 01:27 local time)

    Lance Gunnar (Gunmetal) ¡ª Presumed Dead

    Summary

    Lance Gunnar (chosen super moniker: Gunmetal) was an A-ranked Infuser known for covering his skin in a flexible metallic material. He is a part of the designated (Originals) that first accepted (the Call) in Year 0 (1982 in the pre-super era calendar). He is believed to have been born roughly around Year -30 (1952) though the exact date is unknown (needs citation).

    He is best known as an advocate for legislature to codify laws restricting superpowered individuals and their power uses. He was the founder and President of the (Supers Against Vigilantes and Villains) and briefly ran for Senator of Kansas before canceling his campaign to pursue his Capstone Quest in Year 13.

    Presumed dead.

    Powerset

    His early powerset is unknown, but after his Midmark Quest, the super known as Gunmetal was seen casting a metallic substance across his body. Rare video footage shows that his flexibility was not impacted by this metal and his strength and weight increased proportionally. A direct hit from (Gladiator) appeared to cause no lasting damage (needs citation).

    +  Unknown (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    +  Infuser (C to A)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Gunmetal was a Kansas native in the former (United States). Very little is known about his life before his Midmark Quest and even less about his pre-super life. Around Year 7, he began advocating for more restrictions on super vigilantism and rampant power use.

    In Year 9, he formed the (Supers Against Vigilantes and Villains) in response to the (New Orleans Massacre) that occurred due to a group of vigilantes fighting the supervillain (A-Bomb). S.A.V.V. received overwhelming support from the non-powered community and dozens of supers pledged their commitment to the organization.

    In Year 12, Gunmetal announced his intention to run for State Senator for Kansas and revealed his secret identity as Lance Gunnar. Polls placed him as the favorite before he suddenly withdrew and left for his Capstone Quest.

    With his departure, S.A.V.V. fell out of the spotlight. With the beginning of the (Second American Civil War), it was dissolved entirely in lieu of a more hands-on approach by the super community.

    Personal Life

    (click to expand)

    Notable Exploits

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    With the sudden departure of Dancer, the tension in the air hung thick. Silver¡¯s aura seemed to stabilize as the Emperor turned to regard both him and Terry. On the opposite side of Silver, Whipvine and James flanked, filling up the space until Silver was covered on three sides. The other four revenants stayed back, clearly not interested in a physical confrontation, though War Crimes fingered the pistol at his hip.

    Silver affected an unconcerned stance, turning to regard Whipvine, James, and the Emperor one at a time.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked casually, the corner of one lip turned up in a knowing smile.

    ¡°What were you thinking, Gunny?¡± the Emperor demanded, his voice ominous through his bone mask.

    Silver crossed his arms, eyeing Whipvine and James one more time before answering.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, felt like my timing was pretty damn spot on.¡± He nodded toward Terry, his smile faltering for the briefest second. ¡°Tell me you didn¡¯t feel it.¡±

    Terry¡¯s grandfather turned his flaming eyes toward him, his face unreadable through his mask.

    ¡°Of course I felt it. And I would have handled it myself¡ª¡±

    ¡°You sure bout that?¡± Silver demanded, his voice iron. ¡°Looks like you¡¯d have bent over and taken it¡ª¡±

    James¡¯ voice cut across the two of them, quiet but full of power.

    ¡°The timing,¡± he said simply. His eyes flicked toward Terry, then back to Silver. ¡°It was perfect¡­too perfect.¡±

    Silver fully turned to face James, and Terry could see his lips pursed in thought. They shared a look full of meaning, and Terry¡¯s adrenaline-addled brain finally caught on to what his father was suggesting.

    ¡°It was a Quest!¡± he blurted out. The entire room swiveled toward him and he cringed. He expected to be rebuked for mentioning the taboo subject¡ªby the other supers or his own System¡ªbut no rebuke came. Now that he thought about it, there was no Rule against figuring out other super¡¯s Quests, only against the Quest bearer from discussing it.

    ¡°The question is: why?¡± James asked. ¡°Why did you receive a Quest to intervene with Dancer for my son?¡± He frowned. ¡°And why were you there when the draugr attacked? The System doesn¡¯t care about familial¡ª¡±

    The Emperor cut across his son. ¡°That line of questioning is dangerous.¡± His eyes bored into James, some hidden message passing between the two of them. James¡¯ eyes widened for the briefest second before he nodded agreement. ¡°The real question is: how do we survive making enemies with Dancer and the SPC?¡±

    Terry replayed the last seconds of his grandfather¡¯s confrontation with Dancer in his head. At the time, he had been in a state of shock, time distorted by the adrenaline and fear. But looking back, something didn¡¯t add up.

    ¡°You let him go,¡± Terry muttered to himself. With a start, he realized everyone in the room was looking at him again. He eyed his father, his grandfather, and then, his other grandfather. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you move,¡± he said to the Emperor. ¡°That was practically slow motion for you. You could have reaped him if you wanted to.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± the Emperor sniped, as if that were the dumbest observation in the world. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to kill Dancer, only send him running.¡±

    Terry frowned. Normally, his grandfather¡¯s tone would have been enough to shut him down. But his limbs still vibrated from the showdown with Dancer and he wouldn¡¯t be dismissed so easily. ¡°But why? If he¡¯s so strong and you¡¯re so worried about surviving this fallout, why let him leave?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have time to explain the intricacies of regional politics to a pup¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± James growled.

    The Emperor cut his burning green eyes toward his son.

    Terry¡¯s father ignored the man. ¡°He spared Dancer because there were witnesses. The entire SPC would have come down on us in retaliation¡ªnot to mention the Russians. They¡¯d be circling North America like vultures if news got out about Dancer¡¯s death. The SPC would be forced to crush us in a show of strength. We wouldn¡¯t have lasted the week.¡±

    Terry processed that new information, but couldn¡¯t help but notice the dark look the Emperor cast toward James. Still, he risked a follow up question. ¡°Won¡¯t the SPC come for us anyway?¡±

    ¡°Dancer¡¯s not all-powerful,¡± Whipvine ventured, ¡°even among the organization he started. Rallying enough support to take us out without any real provocation is risky and probably doomed to fail.¡± He shook his head, sharing a look with James. ¡°No, he¡¯ll probably work from the shadows to undermine, as is his way.¡±

    His words hung in the air, weighing down the room for a moment. Then, the Emperor moved, pulling his bone mask from his face, revealing a weary expression, heavy with the burden of rule. He turned to Silver.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Where have you been?¡±

    Silver sighed, his own weariness finally surfacing.

    ¡°Been on my Capstone¡ª¡±

    ¡°For forty years?¡± the Emperor asked skeptically.

    Silver regarded the Emperor for a moment, then nodded toward Whipvine and the four revenants standing out of the line of fire.

    ¡°Not in front of them.¡±

    The Emperor regarded his revenants, then nodded toward the door.

    ¡°Attend outside.¡±

    They left together with varying moods. War Crimes narrowed his eyes for the briefest moment, then shrugged, affecting a casual expression. The Iron Maiden left the fastest, clearly disinterested. The Professor gave Silver a curious glance before exiting, while Mesmer hesitated for a moment before following. Only Whipvine dared to protest.

    ¡°My Emperor, let me stay. You may have been friends once, but we don¡¯t know his inten¡ª¡±

    ¡°Leave us, Whip.¡±

    The revenant¡¯s scars danced as he directed a brief scowl toward Silver before leaving with a nod.

    Only James, Terry, the Emperor, and Silver remained.

    Silver nodded toward James.

    ¡°You trust him?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s my son.¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°That¡¯s not what I asked you.¡±

    Terry waited for the Emperor to dismiss the question as ridiculous, confirm the relationship and trust between him and his son. But there was an undeniable hesitation that was impossible to misinterpret. He watched his father¡¯s face harden, his lips pursed tight.

    ¡°I¡¯ll step outside,¡± James said icily. ¡°Come on, Terry.¡±

    Silver held up a hand. ¡°The boy stays. I¡¯m not done with him.¡±

    Terry felt a pang of anxiety at that, then fear as his father¡¯s eyes darkened.

    ¡°You don¡¯t make the demands here. That¡¯s my son. You had your chance with your own kid and you abandoned her. He¡¯s not your second chance.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide and he felt his body react, a fresh wave of adrenaline spiking, his heart rate amped in anticipation of Silver¡¯s retaliatory outburst.

    To his surprise, the super bit his lip, then sighed. He turned toward James, who was practically vibrating with pent up aggression.

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±

    James faltered, his burning eyes widening for the briefest moment before narrowing.

    Silver continued, nodding wearily. ¡°I did abandon her. Justified it to myself by saying she was with trusted friends, that I¡¯d be back in a year, maybe two.¡± He looked off, his eyes distant as he relived those memories.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Terry was surprised to hear his own voice break the silence, the eyes turning toward him making him squirm. But he squared his shoulders, kept his gaze steady, and regarded Silver with a curious but subdued expression.

    ¡°I was betrayed¡­¡± Silver glanced toward James, clear hesitation on his lips, then turned toward the Emperor. ¡°So I went for the Omega.¡±

    It was barely a whisper, almost too soft for Terry to catch. But his grandfather¡¯s sharp intake of breath was the real shock.

    Terry glanced between the men, not grasping the significance of that statement. Judging by his father¡¯s narrowed eyes, he hadn¡¯t either.

    ¡°You arrogant bastard,¡± his grandfather hissed.

    Silver closed his eyes, a weight seeming to rest across his shoulders.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he whispered. His eyes snapped open, his voice rising. ¡°Yes. I was arrogant.¡± His eyes hardened, silver magic dancing there. ¡°But I got so damn close, T.¡± His voice trailed, going soft again. ¡°So damn close¡­¡±

    ¡°How close?¡± his grandfather asked, a hint of hope in his tone.

    Silver sighed. ¡°I got two.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not close, dammit!¡±

    ¡°What in the Underworld are you two talking about?¡± James barked, his tone full of heat.

    Terry silently thanked his father for asking the same burning question that had been on his mind.

    Silver gave the Emperor a questioning look, and the Emperor nodded for him to explain. He turned toward James and Terry.

    ¡°You¡¯ll find out on your own if you get summoned for a Capstone, but I¡¯ll give you the broad strokes.¡± He turned toward the Emperor. ¡°Feel free to fill in anything I miss.¡± The Emperor nodded, waving for him to continue. ¡°During our Capstone, we each get a series of Quests we need to finish to reach S-rank and return home, right? Everyone knows that. What you don¡¯t know, is that we¡¯re all offered an optional Quest.¡± His eyes swiveled between the two of them, an intensity there that seemed to bore into Terry. ¡°Become the Omega.¡±

    Terry and his father shared a confused look.

    ¡°Omega?¡± James asked. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    Before Silver could respond, there was something bothering Terry¡ªsomething he couldn¡¯t let go unsaid.

    ¡°Hold on, why can you talk about Quests?¡± He looked toward his father and grandfather. ¡°Isn¡¯t that against the Rules?¡±

    James¡¯ eyes narrowed, obviously just as confused.

    ¡°This Quest is the exception. It¡¯s the only Quest all the S-rankers share.¡± Silver held up a hand. ¡°I¡¯ll get there.¡± He looked at James. ¡°You asked what the Omega is. To answer your question, let me step back for a moment. Unless T-Bone¡¯s completely flubbed your education, you should both be familiar with the seven Aspects¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop calling me T-Bone,¡± his grandfather growled, his face scrunched up in a scowl.

    Silver looked at the man, regarding his scythe with pursed lips.

    ¡°Apologies, oh mighty Necroton.¡± He waved toward Terry and James. ¡°Can I continue please?¡± The Emperor simply frowned, leaning against his scythe silently. Silver rolled his eyes, then turned back to them. ¡°As I was saying, the Aspects. Seven nodes connecting the fourteen Classes, right? They¡¯re not just classification systems, regardless of what you¡¯ve heard. They¡¯re core concepts, intrinsically linked to the Classes. But even more than that, they exist on a physical and metaphysical level.¡±

    Terry felt like he was losing the thread. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Material, Elemental, Presence, and so on¡­how can they exist on a physical and metaphysical level?¡±

    ¡°I mean that literally,¡± Silver answered. ¡°Each Aspect has what we call a Singularity, a physical and metaphysical object that embodies that Aspect. These Singularities can be ingested and assimilated into our body and aura. The Quest to become the Omega is to assimilate the seven Singularities. Whoever accomplishes that¡­wins.¡±

    Terry frowned. ¡°Wins? Wins what?¡±

    Silver chuckled. ¡°This world, kid.¡±

    Before he could even parse that statement, his father scoffed. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡± He turned toward the Emperor. ¡°He¡¯s bullshitting us, right? Pulling out some magical MacGuffin crap to distract from the fact that we just antagonized the strongest S-ranker in the world.¡±

    Terry pursed his lips in thought. He felt like his father was missing the bigger picture, too concerned with the here and now. Silver didn¡¯t strike him as someone to dance around or deflect¡ªif he said these Singularities were important, Terry believed him.

    The more interesting question to Terry was: which Singularities had Silver assimilated.

    ¡°It¡¯s real, James,¡± the Emperor said. ¡°Dancer has at least one of them. Which is why none of us dared to oppose him.¡±

    ¡°Until Silver showed up,¡± Terry breathed, the pieces falling into place. He turned toward the Emperor. ¡°You felt that he had strength to match Dancer and you picked your side.¡±

    Silver snorted humorously. ¡°One thing¡¯s for sure, the battle lines have been drawn.¡± He turned to the Emperor. ¡°And Disco¡ªDancer, whatever the fuck¡ªs¡¯got at least two. The Presence and Mental Singularities, if I had to guess. Though they didn¡¯t feel fully digested¡ªat least, maybe not the Mental.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind churned over this new paradigm. He had barely been able to wrap his head around the alien System, the Rules, and his new powers. But this¡­

    The Emperor nodded, his eyes drawn in anxiously. ¡°Which Singularities did you acquire?¡±

    ¡°Physical, you probably guessed. The other one¡¯s Material. Haven¡¯t fully digested that one.¡±

    So Silver has Physical¡ªwhich has Duelist as primary, with Traveler, and Infuser Adjacencies. The Material Aspect which has Artificer as primary, with Catalyst, and Alterant Adjacencies. Dancer has Presence, which has Visionary as primary, with Hypnotist, and Distorter Adjacencies. He also has Mental, which has Savant as primary, and both Summoner and Hypnotist as Adjacencies. Leaving the Elemental, Spectral, and Metaphysical Aspects unaccounted for. And the only untouched Classes are Elementalist, Seer, and Amplifier.

    ¡°Dancer has overlap with the Hypnotist Class. His Singularities are actually adjacent. Does that mean anything?¡± Terry asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s certainly more compatible with his Singularities than I am with Material.¡± He took on a thoughtful expression. ¡°If I could connect mine by digesting the Elemental Singularity, I¡¯d possess nearly half the wheel and improve my connectedness.¡± He turned toward the Emperor. ¡°Any idea who has Elemental, Metaphysical, or Spectral?¡±

    Terry¡¯s grandfather pursed his lips, nodding hesitantly. ¡°I suspect Qui Shen has Elemental. Sol¡¯s power dropped noticeably after Qui Shen returned from his Capstone.¡±

    Silver nodded as if that made perfect sense, but Terry and his father shared a confused look.

    ¡°Sorry, but why would Qui Shen returning with a Singularity affect Sol¡¯s power?¡± Terry asked. He knew of Qui Shen, of course¡ªhe was a powerful S-ranked Elementalist who ruled over a large territory in Asia. He¡¯d made a splash when he¡¯d returned from his Capstone, conquering a significant swath of land in a relatively short period of time. But information was scarce across the oceans and there weren¡¯t many details on his powerset or how he¡¯d managed the feat.

    ¡°They¡¯re called Singularities,¡± Silver replied, ¡°because they pull in the power of the Classes they govern. Given enough time, the S-ranks connected to a digested Singularity will be downranked back to As. The As and Bs will feel less of a pull, and the lower ranks will probably feel nothing at all.¡±

    ¡°Downranked!¡± James gasped, looking between the two men. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious?¡±

    Silver nodded. ¡°The S-ranked Duelists will have felt the drain since my return. The Infusers even more so, since Qui Shen has apparently been partially draining them already. As for the Travelers, they fall under the Physical and the Spectral.¡± He turned to the Emperor. ¡°Any guesses on if the Spectral Singularity has been claimed?¡±

    The Emperor shook his head. ¡°Possibly, but if so, it hasn¡¯t been digested. I¡¯ve been feeling a pull for decades now, but couldn¡¯t tell if it was Dancer or someone else.¡± He took on a thoughtful expression, his eyes narrowing. ¡°There was a couple of days where I began to suspect the Spectral had been claimed. Terminus came back, made a show of his power. I thought the drain might have increased a touch, but then he went to the far side of the moon and we never heard from him again. The drain hasn¡¯t increased since.¡±

    Silver looked off for a moment, lost in thought. Then, ¡°That¡¯s a promising lead. But I¡¯d rather acquire the Elemental Singularity first. How¡¯s this Qui Shen¡¯s relationship with Dancer?¡±

    The Emperor scowled. ¡°They have a non-aggression pact. Their Aspects are nowhere near each other, so they¡¯ve never had cause to fight.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Silver stroked his beard thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ll start with the Terminus lead and see where that goes. Any word on the Metaphysical Singularity?¡±

    ¡°None.¡±

    Silver nodded. ¡°Okay then. But before I do that.¡± He turned to look at Terry, a twinkle in his eye. ¡°I¡¯d like to catch up on missed time with my grandson, have some alone time¡ª¡± He spared a quick glance toward James, who had narrowed his eyes. ¡°¡ªif that¡¯s okay with his father, that is.¡±

    Terry turned to his dad, trying not to let his desperation show on his face. But in his head, he was repeating the words over and over again.

    Please, please, please, please!

    Not only was he an incredible supers¡¯ geek who had the chance to spend more time with an enigmatic S-ranker¡ªmaybe even higher than S-ranker, if that was a thing¡ªbut this was also his grandfather. The sole remaining tie to his mother other than the magical white roses she¡¯d left behind. But magical or not, roses held nothing to the flesh and blood of family.

    Still, he didn¡¯t want to put his father in an awkward position¡ªhealing their relationship was more important¡ªso he did his best to keep his face neutral as his father deliberated.

    After a few anxious moments, James spoke. ¡°You may be Penelope¡¯s father, but I don¡¯t know you.¡± He turned to the Emperor. ¡°You trust him with Terry?¡±

    Terry turned to study his grandfather¡¯s face, wondering how the man would respond.

    The Emperor pursed his lips in thought. ¡°Don¡¯t know, forty years can change a man.¡± Terry¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°How bout it, Gunny? You intend to hurt or otherwise poison our grandson against his family?¡±

    Silver snorted, his tone sarcastic. ¡°I promise not to tell him any stories about your youth, how bout that?¡± The Emperor¡¯s eyes narrowed and Silver held up his hands, turning to encompass both James and the Emperor. ¡°Hey, I just wanna get to know the kid s¡¯all. I swear on my love for Penelope I¡¯d never do anything to harm her child.¡± He turned to the Emperor, his face serious. ¡°Despite all my faults, never doubt that.¡±

    Terry swiveled back and forth, trying to anticipate what his father and grandfather would say. James was clearly biting his inner cheek, the anxiety hard to miss. The Emperor was stoic, but his eyes burned as they locked onto Silver with an intensity that reminded Terry of when he¡¯d faced off with Dancer minutes earlier.

    ¡°He¡¯s an idiot,¡± the Emperor finally said to James, ¡°but I believe him. There¡¯s probably no one better equipped and capable of protecting Terry than the three of us in this room.¡±

    James didn¡¯t seem convinced, his eyes tracking between Silver and his father indecisively. Terry couldn¡¯t contain himself anymore, the words practically bursting from his chest.

    ¡°Please, dad!¡± It sounded so childish, so immature, coming from his mouth. But he couldn¡¯t help it; he wanted to get to know his mother¡¯s father.

    James studied Terry¡¯s face, possibly looking for some reason to refuse or deflect. Terry just held his gaze, willing the man to feel his earnestness, his raw desire. After a tense few moments, his father sighed. Terry sensed the acceptance in that sigh, but forcibly kept himself from celebrating. A moment later, James nodded and stepped close to Silver. His eyes were nearly engulfed in magical green fire.

    ¡°If anything happens to him, I¡¯ll stop at nothing to see you dead before my feet.¡± His voice was low, laced with heat. ¡°Is that clear?¡±

    For once, Silver didn¡¯t smile disarmingly or crack a joke. Instead, he set his lips and gave a short nod.

    ¡°I¡¯ll protect him with my life.¡±

 Chapter 36: Family Bonding Time

    James turned to Terry, the green fire in his eyes dimming, replaced with a worry that he couldn¡¯t hide.

    ¡°I¡¯m amenable to you spending some time with your grandfather,¡± he said. Terry felt an involuntary smile touch his face, then tempered it when his father raised a stern finger. ¡°But there are some stipulations. Awakened or not, you¡¯re still fourteen¡ªnot to mention we¡¯ve all just become a target of arguably the strongest S-ranker in the world.¡±

    Terry was nodding before his father even finished. ¡°Sure, sure,¡± he said a bit too quickly.

    ¡°One, you stay with Silver, no matter what.¡± His gaze swapped to the older S-ranker. ¡°This goes for you, too. You¡¯re not to let him out of your sight.¡±

    Silver made a show of crossing his heart with his finger, which earned a reproachful narrowing of James¡¯ eyes before he continued.

    ¡°Two, I want you to stay in communication with me over System chat. I want an update every hour¡ª¡±

    ¡°Daaaad,¡± Terry moaned.

    ¡°Every hour,¡± he repeated, his eyebrows rising. ¡°Just until you get back to the palace.¡±

    ¡°Who said we were leaving the palace?¡± Silver asked with a bit of a sarcastic tone.

    All Terry could think was: we haven¡¯t talked for months¡­every hour is beyond excessive.

    His father pursed his lips at Silver¡¯s tone. ¡°I very much doubt this is a quick little get-to-know-you chat. If you just wanted to catch up, you could do it right here and wouldn¡¯t need to ask my permission. So cut the wise-ass routine until I¡¯m done. Got it?¡±

    Silver held up his hands innocently, but not before Terry saw the quickly hidden smirk.

    ¡°Three, no unnecessary risks. Don¡¯t think I missed that look of defiance you gave Dancer right before Silver stepped in.¡± Terry bit his lip, but otherwise kept his face neutral. ¡°You leave the fighting to the S-ranks, okay?¡±

    As much as he wanted to protest instinctively, he had to admit, he had a penchant for getting into unwinnable scraps. But with Silver around, he didn¡¯t see that being a problem.

    ¡°Okay, dad.¡±

    James nodded, then stepped in close.

    ¡°Four¡­¡± He looked toward the Emperor, his face suddenly guarded. ¡°Hurry back.¡± He wrapped his arms around Terry in a unexpected hug, pulling him in tight. His voice was low, his tone pained. ¡°With Dancer as an enemy, I won¡¯t be able to stay in Wichita for long. We still have a lot of our own catching up to do.¡±

    Terry whipped his head to the Emperor, who kept his face neutral. His father stepped back after another quick squeeze, both hands placed on Terry¡¯s arms as he gave him an appraising look.

    After another squeeze on his arms, he let Terry go and looked toward Silver.

    ¡°Remember my promise,¡± he said softly.

    Silver gave him a mock salute, but his tone was deadly serious. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, your boy is safe with me.¡±

    James pursed his lips, then nodded once.

    Terry hesitated, desperate to ask why his father had to leave again, why he couldn¡¯t stay in Wichita and let Savage or War Crimes handle Topeka. But that wasn¡¯t a conversation to have in front of the Emperor¡ªor Silver, really. So he turned to his maternal grandfather and let himself feel a little bit of that thrill he¡¯d been suppressing.

    ¡°Ready when you are.¡±

    Silver smiled, placing a hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Then here we go.¡±

    Terry braced, wondering if the man was going to suddenly race off at superhuman speeds, cradling his body to keep the g-forces from tearing him apart. He had realized belatedly that that had been the sensation he¡¯d felt when he¡¯d suddenly appeared beside Lady as the fight had kicked off; his grandfather cradling his neck and spine as he carried him across the room too fast for his mind to follow.

    What actually happened was somehow even more disorienting than that.

    Silver¡¯s aura extended out, encompassing the both of them like a glove. Terry felt his Metaphysical Analysis Skill ping in the back of his mind, prompting him to begin analyzing whatever power the man was activating. Before he could dismiss the prompting, his insides warped, his sense of stability suddenly scrambled as if he¡¯d turned inside out. Silver¡¯s aura seemed to pierce through the world, space, something. Terry¡¯s senses couldn¡¯t track what or how, but he felt himself pulled along for the ride.

    When his body came back to him¡ªstill scrambled, but intact enough for him to feel his legs beneath him¡ªhe realized that they weren¡¯t in the ballroom anymore.

    No, he thought. We¡¯re not even in the palace anymore, are we¡­?

    The space around them was dark, cold, and damp. The way his breath echoed around them, it gave the impression of a large open space, tall ceilings above that only existed in his imagination. If it weren¡¯t for Silver¡¯s steady presence, his strong hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder, he might have started panicking.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± he whispered, afraid to speak too loudly for some reason.

    ¡°One sec,¡± came the reply. Then Silver¡¯s hand left his shoulder, followed by a rush of wind.

    Terry¡¯s heart jumped, but before panic could set in, an echoing click sounded across the space, followed a moment later by a light flickering into existence.

    Then another, and another, and another, until the entire space was illuminated by bright fluorescent lights high above.

    His eyes widened as he took in the space.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± he breathed.

    Silver was beside him once more, the rush of wind signaling his arrival.

    ¡°Just a warehouse,¡± he replied casually.

    Terry scoffed, doing a complete circuit as he turned to examine the warehouse. It was massive, stretching multiple football fields long and at least a one field¡¯s length in the other direction. The ceiling was tall, easily a hundred feet high and the windows that ringed the upper section were all blacked out with what looked like paint.

    ¡°Just a warehouse,¡± Terry echoed. ¡°This place is massive!¡±

    Silver snorted, then nodded toward a spot in the corner Terry hadn¡¯t noticed. ¡°Let¡¯s head up to the office and chat.¡±

    The office was a small section in the corner of the warehouse that was walled off, resting roughly at a second-story height. Metal stairs wound up to the space, leading to a wooden door.

    Terry half-expected Silver to carry him at super speed up to the office and braced himself in anticipation. But the super started walking at normal speed, looking over his shoulder with an arched brow.

    ¡°You coming?¡±

    Terry hurried to catch up, following Silver up the stairs. Past the door was a twenty-by-twenty room with a small desk near the windows overlooking the warehouse floor and a couch pushed against the wall. Discarded trash lined the floors and cobwebs crawled across the ceiling and furniture. Dust layered every surface, creating a heaviness in the air that prompted Terry to cough.

    Silver went to the set of windows and swiveled the handles until they opened.

    ¡°Sorry bout the mess. Haven¡¯t had a chance to clean up since I bought it.¡±

    Terry waved away the concern, clearing his throat and working up some saliva to wet it.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    Silver strode over to the couch and gave it some hard pats, sending more dust whirls into the air. Terry suppressed a groan. He¡¯d only made it worse, after all. But then Silver moved in a blur, forming a gust of man-made wind that pulled the dust out of the air and through the windows.

    When the gust and the dust settled, Terry was pleasantly surprised to note that the air was clear and a deep breath didn¡¯t cause a coughing fit.

    Silver indicated the couch with a hand and plopped into the far corner. Terry joined him, leaning against the armrest. His grandfather¡ªwhich felt weird to think of the man like that¡ªregarded him with a placid expression. He found himself unconsciously squirming and blamed it on the old, uncomfortable couch.

    ¡°Alright, kid. Your Skills¡ªspill.¡± It was an echo of Dancer¡¯s caustic tone, his unyielding demand. Silver delivered the line so casually, so confident and at ease, that it took Terry a moment to realize what he had said.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    His stomach flipped, his eyes trailing to the door stupidly¡ªwhat could he do against the man who moved so fast his eyes couldn¡¯t even track him? But when he looked back, his grandfather was biting his lip, obviously working to contain the building laugh inside his chest.

    Terry narrowed his eyes, his heart still pounding erratically in his neck.

    ¡°You¡¯re an asshole,¡± he muttered.

    The laugh finally broke free, Silver¡¯s eyes twinkling as he held his hand up in apology.

    ¡°Sorry, Terry, couldn¡¯t resist.¡±

    He felt his eyes widen in surprise as he realized something. ¡°You know, that¡¯s the first time you¡¯ve said my name.¡±

    ¡°Is it?¡± Silver asked. ¡°Hm, guess it is. Surprised my daughter picked it, to be honest. If we were going for family names, I prefer mine over T-Bone¡¯s.¡±

    Terry looked over, wracking his brain as he tried to recall the HeroWatch entry on Gunmetal. It was a sparse entry, given he¡¯d been long missing since before the wiki even existed. But he was up to the task, having combed over all of the Originals many times over.

    ¡°Lance, right?¡± he suddenly asked, looking back over. ¡°Lance Gunnar?¡±

    Silver reared back in surprise, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. ¡°Did she¡­did she ever mention me?¡± His voice was quiet and Terry could hear the vulnerability in the question.

    He shrugged, shaking his head as gently as he could. ¡°Sorry, no. Didn¡¯t even know her father was Gunmetal until today.¡±

    His face dropped, but only for a moment. He masked it with a smile, but it was hollow, forced. ¡°Can¡¯t blame her none. She was just a kid when I left¡­¡± He trailed off, the smile cracking, sliding off his face.

    The silence grew, until Terry decided to break it. His hope rising as he realized he was sitting across from one of the most powerful people in the world. ¡°Do you know what happened to her?¡±

    That hope died as Silver shook his head. ¡°No, sorry, kid. By the time I figured out something had happened, I was halfway across the world dealing with System stuff.¡± Terry took that to mean Quests, though he didn¡¯t probe. ¡°By the time I came back to Kansas, the trail was cold. Didn¡¯t even know how to use the internet at first. Forty years out of touch makes for a shitty detective,¡± he added with a sad smile.

    Terry tried not to let his disappointment detract from his excitement to spend time with his grandfather, but it was a losing battle.

    ¡°But you know what?¡± Silver added quickly. ¡°My gut tells me she¡¯s still alive¡­¡± He shrugged, holding his hands out. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t offer more than that.¡±

    Terry sighed, then nodded. ¡°If she were alive, wouldn¡¯t she come back for me? Or at least let me know she was okay?¡±

    After his father had shown him how to use the System chat, he¡¯d tried to send an invite to his mom, but nothing had happened. He found himself trying it again now, but there was no indication that it had worked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the woman she became,¡± Silver said. ¡°But the kid I knew was a good person, right down to her core. I¡¯m guessing you felt that, too.¡±

    Terry nodded, feeling his throat tighten from the memories. ¡°She was the best person I knew,¡± he breathed.

    When he looked up, Silver¡¯s face was turned away, but he couldn¡¯t miss the tear dripping down his grandfather¡¯s cheek. He looked away to give the man his dignity and they sat in silence for a few moments while they digested their pain separately.

    Silver finally broke the silence, snorting humorously as he wiped at his face.

    ¡°Every day¡¯s been life or death since I left. All I had to live for was getting stronger and coming home. Didn¡¯t know if there¡¯d be a home to come back to, being honest.¡± He turned toward Terry, his eyes intense, full of silver specks. ¡°Wasn¡¯t what I expected¡­but I¡¯m glad to have met you, Terry. It won¡¯t make up for abandoning my girl, but I¡¯m here for you now. Whatever help I can give you, it¡¯s yours.¡±

    Terry smiled, feeling the warmth and sincerity that seemed a rare showing from the man.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to have met you, too¡­grandpa Silver.¡± He tested the name, the words feeling odd, unfamiliar leaving his mouth. But the beaming smile on Silver¡¯s face eased the transition in his mind.

    ¡°Grandpa Silver¡­I like that.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Course, I still feel like a young man myself, but it fits, in a way. What do you call T-Bone?¡±

    It was Terry¡¯s turn to laugh. ¡°I sure as heck don¡¯t call him T-Bone. No, he¡¯s my Emperor in public. Maybe grandfather in private¡ªif I¡¯m not feeling in trouble,¡± he added with a snort.

    Silver¡¯s face dropped into an incredulous look. ¡°You call him¡­Emperor?¡±

    Terry shrugged. ¡°Mostly in public, yeah. We¡¯re not exactly¡­close,¡± he added by way of explanation.

    Silver shook his head, a disbelieving look on his face. ¡°Your grandfather always did take himself too seriously.¡± Then he held his hands up. ¡°And I¡¯ve always been too judgmental. At least he¡¯s been there for you, for Penelope. More than I can claim.¡±

    A silence reigned again, just for a handful of breaths, before something his grandpa had said sparked in his thoughts.

    ¡°You mentioned helping me,¡± he said with a bit of hesitation.

    Silver¡¯s eyes lit up and he leaned in. ¡°Yeah, kid, what¡¯d you need?¡±

    Terry¡¯s excitement rose and he matched Silver¡¯s posture. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve decided to share my Skills with you. But only because I need something in return.¡±

    Silver took on a wry smile. ¡°I¡¯m honored. And curious. Okay, then, spill.¡±

    When Terry was done filling Silver in on his Skills and the body tempering he had Affixed from his father, the man sat back with a low whistle.

    ¡°That¡¯s incredibly versatile. Knew a guy once who could copycat Skills but they were always weaker and he could only use them once before he had to refill the tank, so to speak. By the sounds of it, you keep the Skills you catalog, even if you go and Affix something else. Sound right to you?¡±

    Terry shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know, haven¡¯t cataloged more than one Skill yet.¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyes danced. ¡°Wanna find out?¡±

    Terry smiled ear-to-ear. ¡°Thought you¡¯d never ask.¡± He pulled his Quest up with a thought, then looked toward Silver. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have any good E-grade Skills I could copy, do you?¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyebrows perked up, then a matching smile spread across his face.

    ¡°Matter of fact, I do. How¡¯d you like to move metal with your mind?¡±

    Terry gaped at the man, then clamped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not messing with me, are you? That¡¯d just be cruel.¡±

    Silver shrugged, then held out a hand. Terry¡¯s analysis power activated at the same time he felt Silver¡¯s aura shift. It stretched out quick as a whip, wrapping around the metal leg of the desk across the room. To his aura sense, it was as if the man¡¯s aura were seeping into the metal. Then, a tug, and the desk slid across the room with a horrible screech, pulling up to a stop right before them.

    ¡°My first Class was Elementalist,¡± Silver added with a smile.

    Terry was too shocked at first to say anything. Then Silver¡¯s aura reached out again, snagging all four legs and hoisting the entire desk up in the air before them. He looked between the man and the desk in shock, then nodded quickly.

    ¡°Yes, please! That, I want that!¡±

    Silver laughed, letting the desk fall to the ground with a clatter.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Lifting something even that heavy is pretty taxing, and that¡¯s with high aura Attributes. But holding up a shield.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Or stabbing with a blade. I could see you doing that in small bursts. What¡¯re aura Attributes at?¡±

    Terry tempered his excitement at Silver¡¯s words, his grandiose dreams of hauling up a car or stopping a speeding train dashed to the ground.

    But I guess holding up a shield is pretty neat!

    ¡°I¡¯m a E4 average. E7 Perception, E4 Control¡­¡± He trailed off as he noticed Silver¡¯s blank stare. ¡°Wh-what is it?¡±

    ¡°E4? E?¡± He emphasized the letter like he¡¯d misheard. ¡°Didn¡¯t you Awaken yesterday?¡±

    A flush of embarrassment colored his cheeks, but also a bit of pride. ¡°Yeah¡­but I had a good teacher even before I Awakened.¡± He shrugged, trying to maintain a modicum of humility. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Well, damn, son. Okay, then.¡± He chuckled to himself. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll be lifting this desk in no time. So, how does it work? What do you need from me?¡±

    Terry cracked his neck in anticipation and prepared for a long session. He didn¡¯t know if it could be done in a single sitting¡ªdidn¡¯t even know if he could stop and start again without losing the mold in his mind. But he was excited to find out.

    ¡°Basically, just use the Skill and I¡¯ll study your aura.¡± He hesitated, suddenly realizing what he was asking. ¡°I should warn you, when I cataloged my dad¡¯s F-grade body tempering¡­it took me about three hours. For an E-grade Skill¡ª¡± He shrugged. ¡°¡ªwho knows.¡±

    Silver pursed his lips in thought. ¡°Well, I had hoped to catch up a bit, but if this is what you need, I¡¯m happy to help.¡± His aura started to activate, then shut off as he seemed to remember something. ¡°Oh, you better message your father. Don¡¯t need him chewing me out for kidnapping you or nothing.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right!¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Hey dad, I¡¯m okay. Silver and I are gonna try and catalog one of his E-grade Skills. I might be out of contact for a few hours.

    [James]: Thanks for the heads up, Terry. Good luck, message me when you¡¯re done.

    </blockquote>

    Terry turned back to Silver, ready to begin, when another message rolled in.

    <blockquote>

    [James]: I love you.

    </blockquote>

    He read that message a couple times, feeling how far they¡¯d come in only a day. And now he had Silver in his life, as well. Just last week, he¡¯d felt so alone, abandoned and isolated from his family. Now, he felt just a little less lonely, grounded in a way that he hadn¡¯t felt since his mom¡¯s disappearance. And not only that, he was also Awakened. He had power! Or, the beginnings of power.

    With a grin, he rolled his shoulders. If things went according to plan, he was about to have a little more. Maybe he¡¯d even hit E-rank today!

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Love you, too

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ¡°Then here we go,¡± Silver said. He reached into the nearby desk drawer and pulled out a metal pen. ¡°Let¡¯s go small.¡± He rubbed the back of his neck with a chagrined expression. ¡°Don¡¯t think I can hold up the desk for too long.¡±

    Terry nodded, focusing his aura sense.

    His Analysis Skill prompted him as Silver¡¯s aura seeped into the metal pen. He activated it, feeling his own aura reach out and start to work. At first, he wasn¡¯t sure if he needed to cover Silver¡¯s entire body like when he¡¯d cataloged his father¡¯s body tempering Skill or if he could just cover the pen. But as his Metaphysical Analysis Skill guided his aura, he felt it drawn toward both the pen and the tendril of Silver¡¯s aura that connected him to the pen¡ªbut not the entirety of the man¡¯s aura.

    As soon as the connection felt complete, Terry knew he had quite the hill to climb. Whereas his father¡¯s F-grade Skill had been almost like a textured plane of power, this Skill possessed layers upon layers that were obfuscated to his senses. The layers interlocked and he spent a few minutes examining the entire corona around both the pen and the connective tissue leading back to Silver.

    Once he¡¯d done a once over, he felt ready to dive in. He started examining a section at random, feeling the surface with his mind and beginning to form the Skill¡¯s mold. The actual texture of this outer layer wasn¡¯t much more dense or difficult to catalog than the F-grade Skill, but it was only a fraction of what he needed to fully create the mold.

    All the same, his ability to memorize and catalog the mold had improved over the three hours spent cataloging the F-grade Skill, and he could already tell that he was moving at a faster rate. Around the time he was finishing up the outermost layer of the aura encompassing the pen, a series of notifications rolled in, pulling him away from the Skill.

    Aura Projection: E2 ¡ú E3

    Aura Control: E4

    Aura Perception: E7 ¡ú E8

    Presence Average: E4 ¡ú E5

    Silver felt him stop, his eyes narrowing in question.

    ¡°Need a break?¡±

    Time felt tenuous to Terry when he was in the midst of his Skill, but he still felt fresh in comparison to his marathon session with his dad.

    ¡°No,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°Just got distracted by my Attributes updating.¡± He tried and failed to suppress the smile on his face. ¡°E5 average now.¡±

    His grandfather snorted, a disbelieving smile on his face. ¡°You¡¯re a monster, kid. Ready for more?¡±

    Terry chuckled. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just getting started.¡±

 Chapter 37: Lair Acquired

    Despite what he considered advanced Presence Attributes, it became clear after a few hours that he could not brute force his way into the E-ranks. As much as he wanted to stick with his Metaphysical Analysis for as long as it would take, six hours passed before he felt confident enough to call the outer layer of the Skill firmly cataloged in his mind.

    It was when he went to peel up that layer to begin examining the second, that he realized his assumptions had been fueled by hubris. While the mental strain of analyzing the outer layer had been relatively minor¡ªhis concentration being the only real bottleneck¡ªonce he started in on the second layer, the mental strain ramped up noticeably.

    And that was because he had to continuously keep the first layer pried back, like levering up a heavy object. Which he could have done easily enough, he thought. But he also had to divide his attention between that and actually cataloging the mold for the second layer.

    The effort proved too much after an hour, his aura quivering, his thoughts becoming sluggish. Still, he tried to keep pushing, but his mental grip on that top layer finally slipped and he snapped out of the Skill. He settled back into the couch with a sigh, his back aching, while a fierce headache stabbed into his eyes.

    He rubbed at them with a moan. The sound of Silver shifting on the couch prompted him to peep one open, examining his grandpa through slitted eyelids. When he did, a flashing notification tried to pull his attention, but he was too tired to care.

    ¡°Well, that was certainly interesting,¡± his grandfather finally said.

    ¡°Oh?¡± Terry asked automatically, letting his eyelids shut¡ªhe was visualizing the top layer mold, burning it into his memory.

    ¡°Not like any Aura Skill I ever felt. A Distorter penetrates, invading like a virus. Amplifiers wrap around and magnify. Visionaries try and drown you in their Presence. But that¡­it was like you held a magnifying glass and were poking at every crevice and bump, one at a time.¡± Terry heard the man snort. ¡°Don¡¯t know how you did that for ten hours. My brain woulda fried after¡ª¡±

    His eyes shot open and he sat up with a grunt.

    ¡°Ten hours!¡±

    Silver had a wry smile on his face at Terry¡¯s outburst. ¡°And thirty-six minutes. Impressive stamina, really.¡±

    But he wasn¡¯t listening to the man. ¡°My dad¡¯s gonna kill me!¡±

    He pulled up their chat, wondering how he could frame his message to defuse the anger his father must be feeling. But when he opened it, he didn¡¯t find a flurry of messages demanding him to answer or threatening punishment. The very last correspondence was Terry¡¯s own message.

    When he looked up toward Silver, his grandfather had an amused twinkle in his eye as he waited expectantly for Terry to come to some conclusion.

    After a handful of shocked moments, he did. ¡°You messaged my dad?¡±

    Silver shrugged. ¡°You were in the zone. Didn¡¯t wanna break your flow and didn¡¯t want your old man to worry.¡± He held up a finger. ¡°He did say to message him as soon as you took a break, though.¡±

    Terry nodded, preparing to turn back to the chat, when his eyes flicked over the notifications he had initially ignored.

    Aura Projection: E3

    Aura Control: E4 ¡ú E5

    Aura Perception: E8

    Presence Average: E5

    Right beneath it was another set of Attribute notifications and he smiled to himself.

    Aura Projection: E3 ¡ú E4

    Aura Control: E5

    Aura Perception: E8

    Presence Average: E5 ¡ú E6

    -

    Aura Projection: E4 ¡ú E5

    Aura Control: E5 ¡ú E6

    Aura Perception: E8

    Presence Average: E6

    -

    ¡°E6,¡± he muttered. He couldn¡¯t believe it¡ªhe¡¯d jumped two more times in that ten-hour session. At this rate, his Presence Attributes would be in the Ds within the week!

    Silver grunted and Terry looked over to see him shaking his head.

    ¡°You¡¯re in for a world of hurt, kid.¡±

    Terry frowned. ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s coming too easy. Seen it before.¡±

    He gaped at his grandfather. ¡°Too easy! I fried my brain for ten hours to get those Attributes!¡±

    Silver pointed at him with a knowing nod. ¡°Exactly! Ten hours to go from E4 to E6. It¡¯s a dopamine hit, Terry. Every time those Attributes update, you get a rush, right?¡±

    Terry crossed his arms, feeling his defenses rise. Why is Silver trying to make me feel bad about advancing quickly? Shouldn¡¯t he be proud?

    ¡°Yes, it feels good to rank up. So what? I¡¯m s¡¯pose to be depressed that my aura is advancing at a good clip?¡±

    ¡°Depressed? No,¡± Silver said. ¡°But you should temper your expectations. Attribute growth and rank growth are on an exponential time scale. The first few ranks come easy, then less so, until you hit your first plateau. Most Awakened can hit E-rank in a couple months. D, maybe a year or two. C¡­I saw some really talented individuals stall out at C for a decade.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t tell if it was because his aura was in tatters or if it was just the mundane exhaustion of a ten-hour session, but he found himself feeling suddenly annoyed with his grandfather.

    ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡± he demanded. ¡°That I¡¯m one of the ones that¡¯ll stall out? That I¡¯m some sort of faux prodigy that¡¯ll burn bright and gutter out in the Ds or Cs?¡± He shot up to his feet, striding to the windows that overlooked the empty warehouse. His heart pounded in his chest, the heat rushing to his face as he stared out blankly.

    He waited by the windows, expecting Silver to fire back, demand he change his tone, or react in some way that was typical of adults. Instead, silence reigned in the office for a full minute, giving room for the tension and anger to drain away until his own outburst felt increasingly silly and childish.

    Silver was an S-ranker¡ªand probably the first or second most powerful person in the world. Why would he try and tear down little old me? He cares about me, I¡¯ve seen it myself. Which means he wasn¡¯t trying to tear me down. He was trying to help me¡­

    Terry took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he sighed. ¡°When my aura gets tired, I get a little cranky. It¡¯s no excu¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Silver interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m the one that should be sorry.¡±

    Terry turned to look at the man, surprised to see a pained expression on his face.

    ¡°No, really¡ª¡± Terry started, but stopped as Silver held up a hand.

    His eyes looked distant, a painful memory clearly playing across them. After a few moments, Silver looked up, a shine in his eyes.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Terry was shocked to hear the tremble in the man¡¯s voice. ¡°I had a son, once.¡± His words were soft, barely loud enough for Terry to register. But despite the low volume, the revelation floored him like Silver had shouted it across Wichita.

    ¡°I had an uncle?¡± he asked softly.

    Silver nodded, his lips turned down in a frown. ¡°Ten years older than your mother. He Awakened not long after the Call, so we weren¡¯t too far apart in ranks.¡± His eyes studied the stained carpet floor, distant and shining with pain. ¡°He¡­he was strong and smart.¡± Silver glanced up for a moment. ¡°Like you. His Attributes came quick and he hit E-rank within a couple weeks.¡± He smiled, soft and sad. ¡°I was so proud. Then he hit the Ds after two months and that¡¯s when I noticed the change.¡±

    Terry moved away from the windows, coming to sit on the couch beside the man.

    ¡°I was a B-ranker at the time and he started comparing himself to me in every way. ¡®You hit the Ds in six months,¡¯ he¡¯d say. ¡®I did it in two.¡¯ At first, I encouraged the competition. But then he was approaching the Cs, which meant his Midmark Quest¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Terry prompted gently. He felt like he knew where his grandfather was heading, but he was still held rapt.

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t even fifteen when his System offered him the Midmark. That was when I panicked. I could tell from his demeanor that it was a Summons Quest. I demanded that he put it off, wait until he was sixteen¡­¡± He trailed off, his lips pursed in thought.

    Terry could see what had happened next as clear as if it had happened to him. He knew how he would react.

    ¡°He took the Summons anyway,¡± Terry supplied. ¡°Probably that same day.¡± Silver¡¯s eyes darted up, shining with half-formed tears. ¡°It¡¯s what I would have done.¡±

    Silver nodded, the tears finally slipping free. ¡°There one day, gone the next,¡± he said softly. ¡°Didn¡¯t even get to say goodbye. The last thing I said to him was: ¡®You¡¯re a child. That Midmark is gonna chew you up and spit you out.¡¯ He shouted that I was threatened by him, trying to hold him back. He stormed off and¡­I never saw him again.¡± He wiped at the tears, looking up at Terry and snorting. ¡°God, kid, I haven¡¯t cried in decades. Around you for a few hours and you already got me blubbering.¡±

    Terry tried to smile at his grandpa¡¯s self-deprecation, but the lump forming in his own throat made it feel hollow, forced.

    Silver shook his head and stood up with a grunt. ¡°Come on, Terry. I wanna show you something.¡±

    Terry started in surprise, turning his thoughts from his long-dead uncle and all the ways the System had torn his family apart. ¡°Okay,¡± he replied lamely.

    He followed Silver out of the dilapidated office and down the rusty stairs. The massive warehouse expanded out before them, hollow, echoing surprisingly loud with their footsteps.

    They walked another hundred feet in silence and Terry started to feel suspicious. There was nothing in sight for a thousand feet and the well-lit warehouse had nowhere to hide anything that wasn¡¯t in the office. He was beginning to wonder if Silver was just repositioning to initiate another Travel, when the man stopped.

    He turned with a flourish, his hands raised to encompass¡­something.

    ¡°Here it is. My Awakening gift to you.¡±

    Terry made a show of looking around, checking under his feet and behind his back. ¡°Is it an invisible superhero vehicle?¡± he asked with a cheeky tone. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted a stealth car. We¡¯ll call it¡­¡± He paused for dramatic effect. ¡°The Terry-mobile!¡±

    Silver snorted. ¡°That¡¯s a terrible name, kid. Nothing like my Gunjet.¡± He looked off whimsically. ¡°Ah, I miss that thing. Sleek, powerful¡ª¡± His eyes cut back with a twinkle. ¡°¡ªreal chick magnet.¡±

    Terry choked in surprise, holding up his hand to suppress the laughing coughs. When he¡¯d recovered, he looked around with a shrug, his eyebrows raised as if to say, ¡®where the gift at, old man.¡¯

    Silver¡¯s hands went up again¡ªhigher this time¡ªseeming to indicate the roof, the walls, the¡ª

    Terry¡¯s eyes bugged out as he finally connected the dots. ¡°No!¡±

    A smile touched his grandpa¡¯s lips. ¡°It¡¯s not invisible or anything.¡± He tapped a finger thoughtfully to his lips. ¡°Though I can see about returning it if you don¡¯t want i¡ª¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious!¡± Terry exclaimed. He looked around, eyeing the vast open warehouse. He almost felt guilty even drawing the conclusion he had. But Silver wasn¡¯t exactly dissuading his assumption either. Spinning in a slow circle, he already felt his mind racing with the possibilities. ¡°Are you messing with me?¡±

    Silver walked up, putting an arm around Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Nope. It¡¯s all yours, Terry. Every powerful Awakened needs their first lair.¡±

    [Feed Wichita] Quest Updated

    Lair Acquired¡­

    Calculating Next Step¡­

    Quest Updated

    Next Step: Form your team

    -

    He read those notifications with bated breath, not quite believing he had actually made headway. With a thought, he pulled up the Quest.

    Quest Given: [Feed Wichita]

    Grow enough food to supplement Topeka¡¯s inflows.

    Update ¡ú Step Completed: Acquire Lair

    Update ¡ú Next Step: Form your team

    Deadline: 274 days remaining until famine riots

    Reward: Variable

    -

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing from your reaction, that was exactly what you needed,¡± Silver said wryly.

    Terry turned back in shock. ¡°How di¡ª¡±

    Warning! Revealing information about your Quests will result in consequences.

    His jaw clamped shut at the sudden warning. But that didn¡¯t detract from his enthusiasm or the knowing look in Silver¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Thank you¡­grandpa Silver.¡±

    His grandpa pulled him into a hug and Terry let him, feeling spoiled rotten with all the loving embraces he¡¯d been getting recently. Six months without a proper hug and now, he was getting multiple a day. Things had certainly taken a left turn since his Awakening¡ªand for the better, if he didn¡¯t count the run in with Dancer.

    When they parted, Silver had a sad smile on his face and Terry pulled back in surprise.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked.

    Silver studied him for a moment, his gaze intense. Terry tried not to wilt under those eyes, but he found himself glancing down, then back again as he waited for the man to respond.

    ¡°I¡¯m more than okay, Terry,¡± Silver replied after a few moments. ¡°I¡¯m happy to be able to know you. There was a time when I never thought I¡¯d see another friendly face, let alone the spitting image of my daughter. It¡¯s¡­eerie.¡±

    Terry shrugged, not quite sure how to reply to that. After a moment, he settled on, ¡°I¡¯m happy to get to know you, too.¡± His eyes trailed to the space around him, not quite believing it was actually his. ¡°What am I gonna fill this warehouse with?¡± he wondered out loud.

    Silver also looked around, taking in the far corners, the tall ceilings, and finally turning his eyes back on Terry. ¡°Fill it with whatever you need.¡± The emphasis on that last word had him double-taking toward his grandpa. There had been a double meaning behind that, he was sure.

    What do I need? he wondered. The Quest said: form your team. I guess I need a team capable of supplementing the Topeka inflows. Earth and Light Elementalists would go a long way. A Catalyst that specializes in extracting radiation¡ªor even a Traveler to import good soil. Yeah, right. The money it would cost to hire a Traveler capable of moving that much weight would be the cost of this warehouse times a thousand.

    Which brings me to another problem¡­how could I possibly pay my team?

    ¡°Well, couple things I can think of right off the bat,¡± he said, ticking up his fingers as he went. ¡°I¡¯d like to start assembling a team, but the supers in Wichita are all registered and not exactly happy that they¡¯re stuck here on the Emperor¡¯s orders. Could hire outside help, but don¡¯t know where to start. Even more pressing is that I have no feasible way of paying them.¡±

    The problem crystallized in his mind, everything falling into place. He looked up to see his grandpa watching him curiously.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked.

    Silver shrugged, shaking his head. ¡°Nothing, kid. Just watching how your mind works.¡± He waved him on. ¡°Keep going.¡±

    Terry felt a spike of self-consciousness, then forced his thoughts back on track.

    ¡°Okay, so if we work from the ground up, the most immediate problem is cash. I¡¯ve got some collectibles that could be valuable, but the Wichitan economy is very much risk-on right now¡ªpeople aren¡¯t buying luxury items while their kids are going hungry. Which means I¡¯ll need to provide a service of some sort¡­¡±

    He wracked his brain, trying to imagine something he could offer that others would pay for. The warehouse is an asset, he realized. I could rent out a portion, wall it off, get some initial cash flow. But I still have to source the client, which is tough for a fourteen-year-old in a city locked down in martial law.

    He tabled that idea, a flash of inspiration hitting him. I¡¯m a super! Leverage that! Maybe I can rent out my personal services somehow? If I could analyze a really useful Skill¡­

    His eyes cut up toward Silver¡¯s face. He was too excited to stumble over the amused expression on his grandpa¡¯s face, the words flowing out of their own accord.

    ¡°Most pressing issue is cash,¡± he said in a rush. ¡°Two avenues I can see. One, leverage the warehouse, rent off a portion and collect. But space is relatively cheap¡ªeven in Wichita. Second option is I lean into my main Skill. If I could copy an in-demand power, I could rent out my services. That should be enough to bootstrap my operation and hire my initial team!¡±

    He¡¯d spoken with a single breath, finally coming up for air as he watched for Silver¡¯s reaction. The man¡¯s lips were pursed, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

    ¡°I could always seed you the cash, y¡¯know?¡± Silver suggested.

    Terry¡¯s chest fluttered at the suggestion, then he immediately felt himself recoil at the idea.

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± he said quickly. Silver¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t mean to sound ungrateful. It¡¯s just¡­¡± He indicated the warehouse around them, already feeling particularly spoiled. ¡°This is too much as it is, grandpa. I¡¯d¡­I¡¯d like to do some things myself.¡± He cringed, looking off. ¡°I hope I¡¯m not sounding like a brat.¡±

    Silver chuckled, though his tone carried a serious undertone. ¡°Not at all, Terry. In fact, I respect you for wanting to make your own way.¡±

    Terry let out an easy breath, feeling relieved that his grandpa hadn¡¯t taken offense.

    ¡°There are some things I wouldn¡¯t mind leaning on you for,¡± he added, looking up hopefully.

    Silver smiled, arching a single eyebrow. ¡°Oh?¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°Yeah. First off, my F-grade Affixation isn¡¯t something I can sell. And learning your E-grade Elementalist Skill would take too long for my purposes. I was wondering if you had something at the F-grade that would be financially viable? I could learn it real quick!¡± he added in a rush, already feeling bad for taking up so much of his grandpa¡¯s time. I think, he said to himself.

    Silver frowned, tilting his head in thought. After a moment, he shook it. ¡°No, sorry. My lower rank Skills are metal-based. Nothing particularly valuable¡ª¡± He smiled wryly. ¡°¡ªunless you wanna get into blacksmithing.¡±

    Despite everything, Terry felt his stomach sink. Renting out a portion of the warehouse would bring some money. But enough to hire a handful of supers and fund an indoor farm? Definitely not.

    Silver held up a finger. ¡°But¡ª¡± Terry¡¯s eyes shot up. ¡°¡ªI do know where you can not only find your team, but also find a super you can pay that will let you copy their Skill.¡±

    He furrowed his brow, trying to imagine where he could possibly accomplish both of those things.

    ¡°You do?¡± he asked a bit skeptically.

    Silver¡¯s white teeth beamed at him, his smile stretching ear-to-ear.

    ¡°I do,¡± he echoed. His smile took on a sly cast. ¡°Have you ever heard¡­of Terraform¡¯s Underground Market?¡±

 Chapter 38: Entering the Market

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open, his eyes wide.

    ¡°You know where Terraform¡¯s Market is!¡± he practically shrieked. ¡°I thought you had to be invited!¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyebrows climbed his forehead. ¡°Yeah, and why wouldn¡¯t a newly-arrived S-ranker be invited? Don¡¯t you think I have a lot to offer a black marketeer like Terraform?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Terry replied stupidly. ¡°Right. I guess it makes sense you¡¯d get an invite.¡±

    ¡°Well, okay, being honest,¡± Silver replied with a chagrined expression, ¡°I may have expedited my invitation¡ª¡± He held up his thumb and finger close together. ¡°¡ªjust a wee bit.¡±

    Terry¡¯s face dropped in shock. ¡°Wait, what?¡± He shook his head. ¡°How!¡±

    Silver waved away the question. ¡°A story for another time. Let¡¯s just say, Terraform saw the benefits in being my friend.¡±

    He accepted the easy explanation, too excited with the prospect of being able to hire out supers from Terraform¡¯s Market to question it. But as he considered the logistics, he ran into a roadblock.

    ¡°There¡¯s a problem,¡± he said, his mind churning to find the solution. ¡°I don¡¯t have any capital on hand and there¡¯s no way you could convince a super to come to Wichita for me to analyze their Skill. And I need to do that to raise money in order to then hire out a team with enough cash to compel them to enter a city ruled by a borderline villainous S-ranker.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t see the solution.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re approaching the problem from the wrong angle,¡± Silver said with an easy smile. ¡°We¡¯re not bringing anyone back here.¡± His eyes took on a mischievous look. ¡°I¡¯m bringing you to them.¡±

    His thoughts jumbled together for a moment, his mouth going slack as his brain tried to catch up to the implication of those words.

    When they finally did, he narrowed his eyes skeptically.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna take me to Terraform¡¯s Underground Market?¡± The idea was ridiculous. ¡°My father will never sign off on that.¡± He shook his head in frustration. ¡°Is it even safe for me to leave Wichita? What if Dancer gets wind of it?¡±

    It was Silver¡¯s turn to look skeptical. ¡°So what if he does? You think he¡¯s worried about some F-ranker¡ªno offense,¡± he added quickly. ¡°No, it¡¯s your grandfather he¡¯s aiming to get back at¡ªWichita included.¡± Silver shrugged casually. ¡°Besides, he won¡¯t challenge me in person for a while.¡± He snorted humorously. ¡°Fact is, kid, safest place in the world for you, is by my side.¡± His eyes twinkled. ¡°And I just so happen to be heading to Terraform¡¯s Market.¡± He turned as if to go, looking back over his shoulder. ¡°You in?¡±

    Am I in¡­he repeated back to himself. Dad would be furious if he found out¡ªthough, neither of them promised Terry would stay in Wichita. And Silver had specifically mentioned he wouldn¡¯t let me out of his sight¡­.

    It was a thin justification, but one he could live with.

    ¡°Bet your ass I¡¯m in!¡±

    Silver laughed, then waved for Terry to come around him. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re gonna Travel there. It¡¯s a long trip, so brace yourself. It can be unpleasant if you haven¡¯t experienced a longer Travel.¡±

    Terry nodded. He would endure any discomfort it took to actually get to visit Terraform¡¯s Underground Market¡ªthe place was a legend! But something distracted him and he hesitated.

    ¡°Wait, how are you able to Travel at all?¡± he asked. ¡°It felt like we¡¯d portaled earlier, but I wasn¡¯t entirely sure.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°I assumed you were an Elementalist who transitioned to Duelist, then confirmed Duelist for your Capstone.¡±

    Silver pursed his lips in thought and Terry got the impression he was determining how much information to give. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision.

    ¡°You have it right,¡± Silver replied. ¡°I considered transitioning to Traveler when I returned. But when I digested the Physical Singularity, it gave me¡­some ancillary benefits.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes bugged out. ¡°The Singularity lets you portal?¡±

    The corner of Silver¡¯s lip turned up in a half-smile. ¡°Not very far and there¡¯s a cooldown, too. I¡¯d say it¡¯s somewhere between a C- and a B-grade version of Portal. But it¡¯s not a Skill, exactly.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯d be able to catalog it.¡±

    He felt his excitement wane a little, but he hadn¡¯t been expecting to get that opportunity anytime soon anyway.

    ¡°Still, that¡¯s incredible,¡± he said. ¡°So are you gonna portal us to the Market, then?¡±

    ¡°No, way too far for me.¡± Silver reached into a pocket, pulling out a pill sheet and tearing off one to hand him. ¡°Which reminds me. Here. You¡¯re gonna wanna take this.¡±

    Terry reached over with furrowed brow. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked with a hint of hesitation. He trusted his grandpa, but not enough to take a strange medication without at least asking.

    Silver ripped off a second one and peeled back the wrapping before popping it into his mouth. ¡°Dramamine,¡± he said as he worked the tablet with his jaw. ¡°Trust me, kid. The long jumps are brutal.¡± He noted Terry¡¯s hesitation and shrugged. ¡°Unless you wanna immediately puke out everything you¡¯ve eaten for the past 48 hours on the Market floor. Up to you, though.¡±

    That sold it for him and he ripped of the packaging before sticking it on his tongue. He¡¯d never had Dramamine before but it tasted bitter and unenjoyable. He quickly chewed it up, his mouth suddenly dry, the awful taste lingering.

    They waited for ten minutes so it could take effect, chatting idly about Terry¡¯s warehouse plans, Wichita, and his childhood. But the conversation felt a bit forced, the two of them still not quite comfortable enough with each other to hit that natural flow.

    When they settled into a pause that nearly became awkward, Terry latched onto the one thing he could think of that wouldn¡¯t be odd to bring up.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s Terraform¡¯s Market like?¡± he asked. ¡°Are there a lot of supers there?¡± Then a thought occurred to him. ¡°Are there normies there?¡±

    Silver chuckled. ¡°I could tell you all about it.¡± Terry leaned in, nodding. ¡°Or, we could go see for ourselves. Been enough time, or near abouts.¡±

    A pit formed in his stomach, sudden anxiety gripping him. It was only in this moment that the realization hit him: I¡¯ve never left Wichita¡­

    Sure, he¡¯d been to the outskirts to visit the farms, went on day trips with his parents before the war with Topeka kicked off in earnest. But that didn¡¯t count¡ªthat was Wichita-adjacent.

    The fact that he¡¯d never been anywhere else felt pathetic, like he was some backwater hillbilly. They¡¯d see right through him the moment he stepped into Terraform¡¯s Market. He couldn¡¯t fake the confidence he¡¯d need to hire actual, real-life supers. And there was no way he¡¯d convince one of them to let him copy their Skill. He was a child, posing as someone of importance.

    ¡°I can see your mind moving at a million miles per hour, kid.¡± Silver¡¯s eyes were piercing, pulling Terry from his spiraling thoughts. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    It felt so silly, so juvenile and ridiculous. He wanted to deflect and say he was fine. But something about the earnestness in his grandpa¡¯s eyes made him feel comfortable. Seen.

    ¡°I was really excited to go, but I can¡¯t help but think¡­¡± He forced a smile in an attempt to disarm the real anxiety behind his words. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­that they¡¯re gonna laugh me out the door.¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyes narrowed, his lips pursed in thought.

    ¡°And why would they do that?¡± he asked seriously.

    Terry shrugged, looking off to hide the vulnerability he was feeling. ¡°Because I¡¯m a Midwest yokel. Only thing I know about the world outside Wichita¡¯s what I¡¯ve seen on the internet and in sims.¡± He looked back, daring Silver to contradict him. ¡°Who¡¯s gonna take me seriously?¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Silver was nodding and Terry took it as confirmation that his worries were valid.

    ¡°Maybe I should just focus on hitting E-rank,¡± he suggested. ¡°If I can advance quickly, maybe even hit the Ds in a couple of months, I¡¯ll be able to leverage that into what I need?¡±

    Silver looked off, seeming lost in thought. Terry felt the urge to fill the silence, but kept his mouth shut tight¡ªhe¡¯d already said what he was feeling, anything else would just be anxiety-induced word vomit.

    When Silver looked back a moment later, he had a soft smile on his lips. ¡°I get it, I really do. Back when Kansas was Kansas, it was an uphill battle to get taken seriously by others.¡± Silver specks formed in his eyes, his gaze intensifying. ¡°But you¡¯re not a yokel, Terry. You¡¯re a prince of a not-insignificant kingdom. Your grandfather is an Emperor¡ªeven if he does take himself a bit too seriously.¡± Terry snorted humorously at that. ¡°Your other grandfather is possibly one of the most handsome and powerful men alive.¡± Now Terry chuckled, feeling his stomach unclench a touch. The twinkle in Silver¡¯s eye settled, his face setting seriously. ¡°But forget all that. Who cares about your family? It¡¯s you that matters, Terry.¡± He leaned in, his eyes seeming to penetrate through Terry¡¯s self-conscious anxiety, down to the core of who he was. ¡°You¡¯re young and new to Awakened life. But you¡¯ve got a powerset that others would kill for. Lean into that. Use what your System gave you, kid.¡± He put a steady hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And know your worth. The Market is full of schemers and shrewd, business-minded supers. They¡¯re gonna try and swindle you. You squeeze them back and don¡¯t be afraid to say no. You¡¯re the one that¡¯s gonna be in demand, kid. Use that.¡±

    Terry bit his lip, trying to internalize that message. I do have a pretty useful power, he thought. There¡¯s gotta be loads of supers who wouldn¡¯t mind parting with a Skill¡ªespecially since it doesn¡¯t take anything from them but time.

    Silver clapped his hands, pulling Terry from his thoughts. ¡°Come on, enough brooding. You¡¯ll see, it won¡¯t be so bad.¡±

    Terry took in a deep breath, then nodded. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Silver pulled out a nondescript coin with a string threaded through it. Terry leaned in to examine it¡ªboth mundanely and with his aura. The token was silver, its exterior bare of any design. He would have imagined something intricate, indicative of the honor and gravity of what it implied.

    But where the exterior was bare, the aura infused in its material felt dense and varied.

    ¡°Artifact?¡± he wondered idly.

    Silver confirmed with a nod. ¡°S-grade. Sends out a summons request to the coin¡¯s opposite. Traveler in Terraform¡¯s employ reaches out and bridges the two objects.¡± He smiled wryly. ¡°We just piggyback on the connection.¡±

    Terry studied the densely packed aura, his eyes wide in wonder. Without warning, Silver sent a tendril of his aura into the token, prompting a response that Terry could see with his aura sense. In the back of his mind, his Skill tingled, eager to reach out and analyze the magic at work here. But his aura was still recovering from his marathon session with Silver¡¯s metal telekinesis Skill. Not only that, the idea of trying to unpack an S-ranked Skill¡ªeven with a fresh aura¡ªmade his mind quiver. If an E-grade Skill would take him a couple days to unpack, how long would an S-grade Skill take?

    Six months? A year?

    The thought brought his mind back to his other Quest he¡¯d been forced to neglect. How long would it take him to catalog his mother¡¯s roses? Was it even possible at his current strength? Maybe the best strategy was to rank up first, get his Presence Attributes into the Ds to expedite the work.

    He was ripped from that train of thought by a pulse of power flexing over the world around them. Silver grabbed his hand and placed it over the token so they were both within the corona of its aura. Space seemed to warp around them, a tear in the fabric of the world rippling across both his sight and his magical sense.

    ¡°Brace yours¡ª¡±

    His body was wrenched backward, seeming to leave his stomach behind. His vision went black, making it impossible to orient himself as he was stretched in every direction at once. It felt as if every molecule was being pulled away from its neighbor, then shoved back together again¡ªbut just a hair off from its rightful location.

    Then, his feet hit solid ground, his body coming back under his control. Well, control was a strong word for what he was feeling now. His legs gave out immediately and he barely caught himself with shaking arms as he fell. His stomach continued to bounce around like he was at sea, a spike of adrenaline coursing through his limbs, giving them that amped-up feeling that he so hated.

    Despite the medication, he felt the contents of his stomach banging at the door, wanting to spill out onto the ground beneath his hands. He fought the sensation down, clutching at his stomach desperately.

    Sounds and movement pinged at the back of his mind, but it took everything inside him to keep his food down. A minute passed before he felt settled enough to even open his eyes.

    Beneath his hands, he was surprised to see hardwood floors, like you¡¯d find in a house. He looked up¡ªmoving his head slowly to avoid a resurgence¡ªand noted that he was in what appeared to be a waiting room of some sort. To the side, there was a reclining chaise with a pillow, as well as a leather chair beside it. For recovering, he supposed. On the other side of the room was a small food cart with a water pitcher, an upside down glass, and what appeared to be alka-seltzer.

    And against the far wall straight ahead, there was a wooden door with a sign that read: please wait to be assisted.

    He rose to shaky feet, his head swimming from the disorientation. A new spike of nausea formed and he stumbled over to the cart. The pitcher trembled in his hand as he poured himself a glass of water. His fingers felt clumsy as he tried to tear open the alka-seltzer and he eventually grew frustrated and used his teeth. He was just tearing into the packaging when the single door opened.

    He spun to face it, the alka-seltzer wrapper still gripped tightly between his teeth. A petite woman wearing a hooded robe and a small, black mask over her face stood in the threshold. Even past the mask, he could see her eyebrows raised wryly.

    Suddenly self-conscious, he pulled the wrapper from his mouth and waved hello.

    ¡°Hi, uh, sorry,¡± he said, indicating the alka-seltzer. ¡°Couldn¡¯t get it open.¡±

    She stepped into the room without a word, reaching out a hand. At first, he thought she might be going for a handshake and stopped himself just in time to avoid that embarrassment. Realizing at the last second what she intended, he held out the medication. She took it and deftly ripping it in half, depositing the large tablet into his still-outstretched hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m your greeter.¡± Her voice was high, but quiet¡ªeven pleasant, if he hadn¡¯t currently been distracted by the losing battle he was fighting against his stomach. ¡°Your sponsor is nearby, but before you can join him, I must run some tests.¡± She looked up, her eyes a piercing grey, her lips full and soft. He tried not to fall into that gaze and failed. ¡°Do I have your consent?¡±

    He stared blankly for a moment, his eyes darting between her full lips and her eyes that were like a winter storm. A moment stretched into three, and she arched a single brow. With a start, he realized she had asked him a question.

    ¡°Oh, sorry!¡± he blurted. ¡°I¡¯m a bit out of sorts. What was the question?¡±

    ¡°I need to run some tests before you will be permitted entry. Do I have your consent?¡±

    He resisted the urge to automatically reply yes. Come on, Terry! Snap out of it! Then a thought occurred to him, and he felt like cold water had been dumped on his head.

    Is she using a power right now? Why am I staring at her like a lost puppy?

    He focused his thoughts, letting his sense bloom open, testing for interference from her aura. A quick check revealed nothing¡ªher aura was held in tight, cloistered and in no way violating his personal space. Then why was he feeling so dumbstruck by her half-hidden face? He dismissed his suspicions with an annoyed grunt.

    ¡°What kind of tests?¡± he asked. Not that he was planning on backing out at this stage. But the disarray in his thoughts were beginning to abate and he had to remind himself that he was in a strange, unknown location¡ªand Silver was nowhere to be seen.

    As she spoke, he deposited the alka-seltzer into the water with a plop. The tablet immediately began to sizzle, the bubbles rising quickly. ¡°I am an A-ranked Hypnotist,¡± she said casually. ¡°I will place you under a trance and ask specific questions to ensure you do not mean the Market or its benefactor any harm.¡± She quirked her head to the side. ¡°I am required to ask this of all newcomers, though I can see you are still a child. Are you an S-ranked Awakened?¡±

    He choked on his water, the fizzy bubbles sliding up his nose. Turning, he kept his arm over his mouth and tried to downplay the coughing fit that followed. She raised her eyebrows in subtle concern and he cleared his throat violently.

    After an embarrassed moment, he finally managed to reply. ¡°No.¡±

    She nodded, moving on to the next question as if reading from a script. ¡°Has an S-ranked Hypnotist or Visionary placed any sort of compulsion over you, that you are aware of.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Not that I¡¯m aware of.¡± Though, he had to wonder what was the point of her line of questioning. As far as he could tell, she hadn¡¯t activated her powers yet. Had she? He examined his aura once more, looking for any points where she might be influencing him. Everything looked normal still¡ªthough, would he even know if she were hypnotizing him.

    ¡°And what is your sponsor¡¯s name?¡± she continued. ¡°His pseudonym will suffice.¡±

    ¡°Silver.¡± Terry glanced over her shoulder. ¡°Where is he? He didn¡¯t mention we¡¯d be separated.¡±

    She smiled, her full lips seeming to part with a soft sigh. He felt his heart rate spike, his mind stumbling.

    Those are the reddest lips I¡¯ve ever seen in my life.

    ¡°He must have forgotten.¡± Her expression was disarming, her tone light, tinkling. ¡°I promise to get you back to Silver soon.¡±

    He was falling into her eyes. For the fifth time, he wondered if she was using her powers on him. But his aura sense didn¡¯t spot anything emanating from her.

    Get yourself together, Terry! Never seen a beautiful woman before?

    Despite the self-talk, he found himself studying her eyes, tracing his gaze down to her lips. She¡¯d been talking, he realized.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Wh-what was that?¡±

    ¡°Do I have your consent?¡±

    Yes¡­wait, no! Consent for what? His thoughts wouldn¡¯t get in line, his body feeling pulled magnetically.

    ¡°What¡­what am I consenting to?¡±

    She placed a hand on his arm, electricity coursing where her fingers brushed his skin.

    ¡°Some simple questions, hon. Just ensuring the safety of the Market.¡± Her lips pouted and his heart hurt. ¡°Unless you¡¯d rather I sent you back? It would be a shame not to experience the Market, but I understand if you¡ª¡±

    ¡°No.¡± It blurted out and he clamped a hand to his mouth. Something flickered in the back of his mind, but her look of hurt surprise blanked his thoughts. ¡°Sorry, no. I want to see the Market.¡±

    Her hand slipped down his arm, entwining with his fingers.

    ¡°Come to the couch. We¡¯ll be done before you know it.¡±

 Chapter 39: Terraform

    He found his feet moving toward the chaise almost of their own accord, his head laying back before he stopped to take stock of the situation.

    This is fine, right? Silver wouldn¡¯t have brought me here if I was in danger.

    But he had promised not to let me out of his sight¡­

    The woman settled into the nearby chair, a subtle smile playing across her lips as she caught Terry¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Shall we begin?¡± she asked sweetly. Her voice had a calming effect and he felt his doubts drain away.

    But a question had been ringing in his mind.

    ¡°Where¡¯s my¡ª¡± He cut off, realizing he¡¯d almost asked where his grandfather was. That wasn¡¯t information he should have been divulging. He quickly amended his words. ¡°¡ªmy sponsor.¡±

    She tilted her head, her lips parting subtly. ¡°Ah, your sponsor is in the next room over. He¡¯s waiting for us to finish up.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow, sitting up. ¡°Can I see him?¡±

    The corner of her lip twitched, and he almost would have thought it had turned down in a frown. But it was there and gone so fast, he couldn¡¯t be sure.

    ¡°Protocol dictates that we clear new arrivals first.¡± She arched a single brow. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m happy to return you to your home, Terry.¡±

    He bit his lip, wondering if he was being obstinate for no reason. He didn¡¯t want to waste his opportunity to see Terraform¡¯s Market. ¡°No, that won¡¯t be nece¡ª¡± He clipped his words, his eyes flaring for the briefest moment before he brought his expression back under control.

    I never told her my name¡­

    She sighed, making a tsking sound with her tongue. ¡°I had hoped to do this the easy way.¡±

    Terry pulled up his System chat and frantically attempted to send a message to Silver. But as he pulled it open, a notification was already waiting for him.

    Silver has requested a private channel. Accept?

    He quickly accepted and a series of messages filtered into view.

    <blockquote>

    [Silver]: Terry, where are you!

    [Silver]: We¡¯ve been betrayed, stay on guard. Reveal nothing!

    [Silver]: Terry! Accept the damn channel invite!

    [Silver]: I¡¯m coming to you, stay safe, Terry! Please!

    </blockquote>

    His stomach clenched as he read over the messages. As fast as he could, he typed out a response.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Grandpa, hel¡ª

    </blockquote>

    Before he could send it, the woman¡¯s aura surged out like a tsunami, dampening his senses, slowing his thoughts. He forgot what he had been doing, the chat laying dormant to the side, his message unsent.

    He blinked four times, slowly, ponderously, his body feeling light, numb.

    ¡°My apologies, Terry,¡± a voice said. It took him a few seconds to turn his gaze toward the woman sitting across from him. She¡¯s pretty, he thought dimly. ¡°I abhor the necessity.¡± She shrugged casually and he felt himself falling in love. ¡°But Skip gave me an offer I couldn¡¯t refuse.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t follow the conversation, but that didn¡¯t bother him for some reason. He just wanted her to keep talking. ¡°Oookaaay,¡± he replied, the word dragging out of him one long syllable at a time.

    ¡°Thank you for your cooperation, hon. I promise to be quick.¡± She leaned in and he felt himself pulled into her eyes. His mouth gaped open but he didn¡¯t care. ¡°Who is the S-ranker named Silver and what is his relation to you?¡±

    He processed each word at a time, not quite putting the question together until several moments had passed.

    He¡¯s my grandfather on my mother¡¯s side. His na¡ª

    Everything in his mind short circuited, his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt.

    I shouldn¡¯t tell her that, he thought. That might be compromising information.

    It was another set of several seconds before he was able to articulate the thought.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I should say.¡± He felt bad telling her no, but they could still be friends, right? She had called him a child, but maybe in a few years, when he was stronger, she¡¯d see him as a¡ª

    Her face dropped, her lips setting tight with disappointment. He felt his heart flutter with fear¡ªfear that he¡¯d ruined any chance they had of a relationship.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡± he tried to say. But the words came too slow and she cut across him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you like me, Terry?¡± Her lips pouted, her face turning away in disappointment, revealing the graceful length of her jaw. ¡°I thought maybe we could have been something¡­¡±

    We can¡ªwait. His mind bucked against him, fighting the fawning words forming on his lips. A moment later, everything crystallized in his thoughts.

    ¡°I hope we can,¡± he replied, feeling like his heart was breaking even as his conviction formed. ¡°But that¡¯s not my secret to reveal.¡±

    That felt right, despite the crushing pain deep inside his chest. Maybe grandpa doesn¡¯t mind if I reveal his name and our relationship. But maybe he does? I need to talk to him¡­

    ¡°Can I see him?¡± he asked, latching on to that thought desperately. ¡°Maybe I can talk to him and get you what you¡ª¡± He cut off as she shook her head. Was that frustration or annoyance he was reading on her face?

    ¡°Impressive control,¡± she said with a hint of surprise. He felt his skin flush at the compliment, a smile forming on his face. ¡°I had hoped not to damage your mind, but you¡¯re proving a tougher nut to crack than I¡¯d assumed.¡±

    What¡­? He had difficulty parsing those words. Damage my mind?

    Before he could coax his sluggish thoughts into unpacking those words, stabbing pain spiked behind his eyes. The hold over his mind drained away, replaced with the horrible realization that he was being attacked. He marshaled his aura, trying to force her back. But her power was overwhelming, pressing against his own with a weight that felt like it would bury him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fight,¡± she said softly. ¡°Your mind will shatter if you fight.¡±

    He gritted his teeth, condensing his aura around his mind as tightly as he could. But it was no use; he felt like a toddler wrestling an adult. She was knocking at the door of his thoughts, preparing to break it down with a finality that he knew would mean brain death.

    The entire room shook with an ear-splitting boom, dust and soil filtering from the ceiling like an earthquake had shaken it loose.

    The hooded woman looked up in surprise, the invasion of his mind relenting blissfully. Her eyes went wide with fear, even as another boom seemed to shake the room.

    In spark of clarity, he realized that this was his chance. He jumped up from the couch and raced for the door.

    He didn¡¯t make it halfway before her aura returned with a vengeance, wrapping around him like a vice grip.

    ¡°Get back here!¡± she shouted and his feet obeyed against his will. He stood before her, his entire body trembling as he resisted the compulsion. ¡°Stand in front of me. I¡¯ll have to use you as a human shield.¡± She growled, the frustration turning her face ugly. ¡°Dammit, Skip had one job. Now everything¡¯s fucked.¡± Standing up, she turned him to face the door. ¡°Now, do exactly as I say and nob¡ª¡±

    The wooden door exploded out, smashing against the back wall with a splintering crack. The woman screamed in surprise and Terry felt the hold over his mind clench instinctively. His limbs were full of lead as Silver appeared in the doorway.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°You okay, kid?¡± His tone was light, but his face was a dark storm, his eyes fully opaque with silver magic.

    Terry tried to respond, tried to dive away, or hit the floor to clear his grandpa¡¯s line of attack. But neither his body nor his mouth responded to his desperate need.

    ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer!¡± the woman shrieked behind him, her lilting tone completely erased by the sheer terror. ¡°I¡¯ll shred his mind if you so much as blink!¡±

    Silver snarled, his teeth bared. ¡°There¡¯s nowhere you can hide, little girl. I¡¯ll find you and I¡¯ll make you hurt like yo¡ª¡± He cut off as the woman screamed, his eyes going wide with surprise. At the same time, the hold on his mind disappeared. Belatedly, he dashed away, turning to see what had happened.

    A sheathe of stone encased her head, wrapping around her like a granite helmet. His eyes tracked up where a large divot of the ceiling was gone. It took him a moment to realize that the earth itself had dropped the stone from above, covering her head in an instant.

    She clawed at the stone helmet, her aura cut off. Only her shrieking voice escaped, echoing terribly inside the rock.

    ¡°Please, please!¡± she pleaded. ¡°It was Skip! He forced me! I didn¡¯t want to but he¡ª¡± A choked scream sounded from beneath the rock. A terrible squelch echoed, like a foot stepping through a rotten melon. Her hands futilely clawed at the edge of the stone. A half-second later, they went limp, her legs giving out. The stone helmet continued compressing inward, squeezing the space until blood and viscera oozed out the bottom.

    The hardwood floor was dyed crimson as Terry looked on in horror.

    A voice broke through the terrible fog infecting his mind. ¡°I hope you know this doesn¡¯t square us.¡± Terry turned to see his grandpa at his side, his face still a mask of fury. At first, Terry thought Silver was talking to him, but a moment later, the stone above began to morph, seeming to melt as it dripped down to the floor below.

    In a handful of seconds, it had formed into a humanoid shape made of pure rock. A face materialized on its head, features simple but undeniably human.

    It¡¯s a golem! He¡¯d read about them on HeroWatch, seen the sims and the stills, but seeing it in real life was something entirely different.

    The stone stacked seven feet high, its joints grating against each other like the ponderous sound of a dying earthquake. The floor practically shook as it bent at the waist into a deep bow. Its voice rumbled inside Terry¡¯s chest.

    ¡°My deepest apologies, Silver.¡± The golem turned toward Terry. ¡°And to your friend. It seems my business partner has made a grave miscalculation.¡±

    Silver¡¯s lips set, his eyes still opaque balls of metallic fire. ¡°And where did our old friend Skip get off to, huh?¡± He indicated the body still twitching before them. ¡°Did he get the helmet treatment?¡±

    The golem spread its hands wide in an eerily human gesture. ¡°Alas, S-ranked Travelers are tricky to pin down. He escaped.¡±

    ¡°Convenient for you.¡±

    Terry whipped his head toward his grandfather, sensing the annoyance and the barest hint of a threat beneath his voice.

    ¡°On the contrary,¡± the golem rumbled. ¡°The sanctity of my Market has been violated. Until the betrayer is captured, my name is sullied.¡±

    Silver grunted, crossing his arms. He looked around, taking in the dead Hypnotist and the shattered door before his gaze finally rested on Terry.

    ¡°You okay?¡± he asked softly, his eyes narrowing in concern.

    Terry thought about that question. Am I okay? Well, someone invaded my mind under false assurances, then threatened to shred it when I resisted. Then I was held hostage¡ªeven if briefly. His eyes trailed down to the woman who he¡¯d been so enamored with a minute earlier. Sticky red viscera edged toward his shoes and he hopped back.

    No, I¡¯m not okay, he realized a moment before he spewed his latest meal over the hardwood floor.

    He expected Silver to console him, maybe pat him on the back like his mom would have when he was sick. Instead, the man indicated Terry with a nod, turning toward the golem.

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk compensation. The mental trauma alone¡­¡±

    The golem grumbled. ¡°Of course. Follow me.¡± It turned toward the far wall and started walking. When it seemed about to collide with the wall, the rock melted away, revealing a hallway made of smooth-cut stone. Faint light emitted from its mouth¡ªsome sort of bioluminscent moss.

    Terry wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, keeping his eyes very purposefully up. But the afterimages in his mind threatened to spark another episode. Silver put a hand around his shoulders and met his eyes.

    ¡°Seriously, you okay?¡±

    His eyes almost pulled back to her body and he had to fight to keep from glancing down. ¡°No.¡± He shook his head and met Silver¡¯s gaze. ¡°But I will be.¡±

    His grandfather nodded, his lips set tight. He glanced at Terraform¡¯s golem, then back. ¡°Want me to send you back? I¡¯ll negotiate everything you need and be back¡ª¡±

    He cut off as Terry was shaking his head. ¡°No.¡± He cut his gaze up toward the golem. ¡°I¡¯m here. I want to see the Market.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Unless Terraform doesn¡¯t think he can guarantee our safety?¡±

    The golem bowed deeply from the tunnel threshold. ¡°I will protect my guests with my life,¡± it rumbled. ¡°In my domain, nothing and no one will touch you.¡±

    Terry considered that proclamation for a moment, then turned to Silver. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡±

    His grandfather searched his face as if looking for cracks in the facade. But Terry set his lips and returned his look confidently. After a moment, Silver shrugged.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go, then.¡±

    The moment his feet touched the narrow passage, the stone seemed to shift. At first, he thought maybe Terraform was betraying them and images of the tunnel squeezing him like a lemon played across his mind. But a moment of frozen panic passed before he realized that the stone was simply shuttling them down the tunnel like a conveyor belt, expediting their travel.

    They moved in silence, traveling that way for another couple of minutes before the moss light gave way to the bright white of fluorescents at the end of the tunnel. A silhouette passed across the lights, stopping in front of the tunnel as they approached.

    The stone ferried them out into a large room and Terry had to blink his eyes to adjust to the bright lights.

    Standing before them was an Asian man of medium-build, his hair greying at the temples, a short-cropped goatee ringing his mouth. He was dressed in an impressive three-piece suit but was otherwise subdued in his appearance. There were no rings or jewelry of note and nothing to indicate that they stood before one of the richest men alive.

    Though Terraform wasn¡¯t an Original, he was one of the oldest S-rankers and had made a name for himself running the world¡¯s most legendary market. And over the man¡¯s shoulder, Terry could see just why it had that reputation.

    A floor-to-ceiling window extended across the entire far wall, revealing Terraform¡¯s Market below. The space expanded out before them, a thousand feet across and a thousand feet wide. A tiered series of rooms were cut into the large cavern on three sides, and Terry could see into most of them from their vantage point. Stone pillars rose up into the space between, supporting bridges that cut across the cavern in straight lines. The bridges themselves appeared to be made of pure glass wrapping up to completely enclose pedestrians as they crossed. Terry could easily imagine that vertigo was a real problem for those not used to traveling that way.

    Despite the wonder of the glass bridges and the honeycombed nature of the three walls, the real eye catcher was below it all. A pool of shifting lava served as the floor of the cavern, illuminating the Market from below with its yellowish-red light.

    Terraform caught Terry¡¯s wide-eyed gaze, glancing over his shoulder before looking back with a soft smile.

    ¡°What do you think of my Market, young man?¡± His voice had the slightest accent to it, barely noticeable, such that he couldn¡¯t identify its origin.

    Before Terry could put into words just how dumbstruck he was by the display, Silver cut across his reply.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, it¡¯s great.¡± Terraform pursed his lips in displeasure, but didn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°Don¡¯t try and dazzle us with your fancy volcano setup. What the hell happened and why did your people try to take me and my companion out?¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide at that, not quite realizing that Silver had been in danger as well. ¡°They tried to kill you?¡±

    Silver flicked his eyes toward Terry, but kept his attention locked on Terraform as if he expected a double cross at any moment.

    ¡°Oh, you bet they did,¡± he growled. ¡°Found myself teleported into solid stone. Turns out I¡¯m denser than rock.¡± His brow raised pointedly, as if in warning to Terraform. ¡°Then Skip tried to teleport me into the lava, but I managed to break free from his hold.¡± He took a small step toward Terraform¡ªsubtle, but full of deadly intent. ¡°So I¡¯ll ask again. What the hell happened?¡±

    Terraform¡¯s face remained placid, his hands steady by his side. ¡°Of course, you could kill me now if you¡¯d prefer. I brought you face-to-face understanding the risks. But if you¡¯ll allow me to explain, I believe we can come to an understanding.¡±

    Terry opened his aura sense, wondering if he could intuit the man¡¯s intentions through that. As soon as he did, his mouth gaped open.

    The aura extending from Terraform seemed thin on the surface, but a thousand tendrils reached out into the surrounding stone like the webs of a spider, pulses of power visibly traveling back and forth along their paths.

    Silver seemed not to notice or care about the staggering aura exuding from the man. He grunted agreement and nodded for Terry to follow.

    Terraform flexed one of the many tendrils and the stone beneath their feet shifted. Terry flinched, expecting an attack, but Silver just continued his approach. The stone lifted from the ground, forming a desk and a chair with its back to the Market. Two more chairs formed opposite the desk¡ªpresumably for Terry and his grandfather.

    ¡°Please, sit.¡±

    Silver took the stone chair on the left, settling back and crossing his legs. Terry approached a bit more hesitantly, feeling completely at the mercy of the man who could mold stone with his mind. He hovered over the chair, wondering if he could just stand. But Silver gave him a subtle nod, his eyes flicking to the seat.

    With a sigh, he sat down, cringing as if he expected the stone to swallow him up like the Hypnotist from earlier. But as he settled his weight back, he found the stone chair surprisingly inviting, molding to his weight more like a water bed than a slab of rock.

    Terraform rubbed at his temple and sighed¡ªthe first crack Terry had noticed in the man¡¯s elegant facade.

    ¡°Firstly, you both have my deepest apologies for the impingement on your wellbeing¡ª¡±

    Silver scoffed. ¡°Impingement. That¡¯s a mild way of puttin¡¯ it.¡±

    Terraform nodded wearily. ¡°An unacceptable lapse, and one that will not happen again.¡±

    Terry felt himself out of the loop, still not clear on exactly what had happened. ¡°Um, can someone explain? All I know is that Hypnotist¡ª¡± The image of her limp, bleeding body flashed in his mind, her scream echoing in his ears. He flinched, pushing it away. ¡°¡ªthat Hypnotist was asking about Silver. She told me it was standard procedure, then she tried to force her way into my mind.¡±

    Terraform pursed his lips, turning his gaze toward Silver. ¡°Is he aware?¡±

    Terry turned toward Silver with a start. ¡°Aware of what?¡±

    Silver waved casually. ¡°Yeah, he knows.¡±

    Terraform nodded, turning back to Terry. ¡°Your sponsor possesses the Physical Singularity. He made¡­¡± His eyes cut back to Silver for a moment. ¡°¡­quite an impression, the last time he was here. It seems my partner, Skipper, took notice.¡± He frowned, his eyes becoming animated with obvious anger. ¡°He attempted to kill Silver and take his Singularity. And I believe you were the contingency plan.¡±

    ¡°Your¡­partner?¡± He wondered about that. From everything he¡¯d heard, Terraform was the leader of the Underground Market. He¡¯d never heard rumors of a partnership.

    The super sighed, his chair swiveling to face the windows looking out over the Market. ¡°An S-ranked Traveler by the name of Skipper. I brought him on six years back in an attempt to expand.¡± He stood up, pacing to the window to look down. ¡°For twenty years, my team and I ferried entrants physically through the earth.¡± He glanced back. ¡°As you can imagine, the efforts were a full-time engagement. I knew that if I could delegate that task to a high-ranked Traveler, we could circumvent the bottleneck and expand the Market.¡±

    ¡°Looks like you trusted the wrong man,¡± Silver said.

    Terraform turned back, his lips set in a frown. ¡°I did. It appears the draw of your Singularity was too much for him to resist.¡± He returned to his chair, settling wearily into it. ¡°Which brings me back to recompense.¡±

    He leaned forward, his eyes suddenly intent.

    ¡°Tell me what you require to make this little mishap go away.¡±

 Chapter 40: The Pit

    Terry waited for Silver to answer, but was surprised to note the man was staring at him expectantly. His eyes went wide as he realized what his grandfather intended.

    His hand went to his chest in surprise. ¡°Wha¡ªme?¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyes twinkled humorously, the corner of his lip flicking up for the briefest moment. ¡°We didn¡¯t come here for me, kid.¡± He waved toward Terraform. ¡°Tell him what you need.¡± His eyes cut back to the super across the desk, his voice low and confident. ¡°And don¡¯t be shy. He¡¯ll pay.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes whipped back toward Terraform, expecting the man to bluster or argue. But the S-ranker¡¯s features were smooth, expectant, waiting for Terry to make his requests.

    His thoughts suddenly felt frantic, the weight of two S-rankers eyes flustering him into a mental paralysis.

    ¡°Uh, um, let¡¯s see.¡± He was just making noises, stalling for time. The two of them waited patiently¡ªwhich somehow made his indecision feel worse.

    He jumped to his feet, turning away from their stares. Taking a series of deep breaths, he let his mind run. Thoughts began to settle, his eyes unfocusing as his Quest loomed in his mind.

    His first thought was to ask for food¡ªand lots of it. If he could ferry enough food to Wichita, he¡¯d finish his Quest, right?

    But how long would that last? Feed a man a fish, you feed him for a day¡­

    I need to build a farm, don¡¯t I? The thought frightened him at first. What do I know about farming? Soil, seeds, water, light¡­and space.

    For the first time, he wondered if his grandfather had known that he would need something just like the warehouse. Or was he just providing a ¡®lair¡¯ as he had said.

    Let¡¯s start from the top and work down. Soil. I need clean, unirradiated soil. Enough to fill the warehouse. Rough estimate¡­200,000 square feet of space. Space per seed varies, but if we use one square foot per as a guide, I¡¯ll need just as many seeds.

    That¡¯s the first step. Seeds should be the easiest part. Soil, the hardest.

    Which brings me to the next bottleneck¡ªwater. The amount of water needed to accommodate that much square footage¡­yeah, scratch that, water is gonna be the hardest, isn¡¯t it?

    Silver¡¯s voice cut across his thoughts. ¡°Perhaps you should think out loud? The two of us can help flesh out what you need?¡±

    Terry turned in surprise, just realizing that he had been pacing in silence for a full minute.

    ¡°Oh, yeah, sure. Well, I, uh, need to facilitate an indoor farm. Make enough food for¡ª¡± He had been about to say Wichita, but bit his tongue. Chances were, Terraform knew who he was and where he hailed from, but there was no point in giving that information for free. ¡°¡ªfor a medium-sized city. Or, at least supplement it. I have roughly 200,000 square feet of space¡ª¡± He turned to Silver for confirmation and the man nodded. ¡°¡ªand I need to get production up as soon as possible. Soil, seeds, water, light¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯m missing something.¡±

    Silver turned expectantly toward Terraform, who pursed his lips in thought.

    ¡°Have you considered hydroponics?¡± the super asked after a moment.

    The word was familiar, but he didn¡¯t know the first thing about it. ¡°No, what¡¯s that?¡±

    Terraform nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a soil-less solution that¡¯s ideal for indoor growers. Water usage is typically ten percent of outdoor farming needs. The plants are submerged or suspended above nutrient-rich water. Because the roots don¡¯t have to fight through the soil to hunt the nutrients, growth rate is accelerated by roughly thirty percent. With the right lighting setup, you can stack them vertically to maximize space.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open as Terraform talked. This sounds like exactly what I need!

    The S-ranker couldn¡¯t miss Terry¡¯s excitement and he nodded, seeming to come to a conclusion.

    ¡°How about this?¡± He glanced between both Silver and Terry. ¡°I¡¯ll help get your operation up and running. Provide the gear and the supers.¡± He waffled his head back and forth. ¡°Say, a team of D-rankers to serve as your growers¡ªEarth and Water Elementalists that I trust.¡± Terry¡¯s eyes went wide, but Terraform wasn¡¯t done. ¡°You¡¯ll still need a light source. Could do lamps, but that¡¯s costly and natural light is still better than artificial.¡± He tapped his lips in thought. ¡°Light Elementalists are harder to find. I do know one B-ranker who should be available.¡± His lips quirked up in a subtle smile. ¡°There is an S-ranker who specializes in light, but I heard he was killed fighting Emperor Necroton.¡±

    Terry kept his face blank, but his heart tried to pound out of his chest. But why was he nervous? His identity wasn¡¯t exactly a secret. And if Terraform sent a bunch of supplies and supers to Wichita, it wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t put two and two together.

    Silver interjected, easing Terry¡¯s anxiety with a casual wave. ¡°Yes, yes, this is Terry Fairway of Wichita. Can¡¯t exactly hide that fact, can we, Terry?¡±

    Terry gave a chagrined smile in answer, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Guess I thought my secret identity would hold up for more than a day.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But I guess I¡¯m a bit of a public figure.¡± His eyes locked on Terraform, his confidence rising. ¡°And yes, I¡¯m doing this to feed Wichita. Our farms are dust and Topeka isn¡¯t providing enough to supplement.¡±

    Terraform interlocked his fingers on the desk, leaning forward. ¡°I respect you very much for that, young man. It¡¯s rare for supers these days to truly live up to the name, ¡®hero¡¯.¡±

    Terry felt a flush of pride fill his chest, though if he were being honest, his System had picked the Quest, not him. But he did agree, this was the best way to use his influence¡ªif not his powers¡ªand help the people of the city he loved.

    Terraform seemed to study him a moment longer, then nodded as if he had come to some decision. ¡°I¡¯ll provide whatever you need, young prince.¡± His eyes cut toward Silver. ¡°And in exchange, we¡¯re even.¡± It was less question and more statement.

    Terry felt himself nodding, more than pleased with the outcome of their conversation¡ªeven if he would have the image of that woman¡¯s brain being pulped stuck in his head for a long time to come. But movement in his peripherals drew his eye, only to see Silver shaking his head in disagreement.

    ¡°Not quite.¡± Terraform frowned, but a small smile touched his grandfather¡¯s face. ¡°One last, tiny request.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­?¡± Terraform replied with a hint of annoyance.

    Silver turned to Terry, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

    A message came across their channel.

    <blockquote>

    [Silver]: Any F-grade Skill you think you might want? Don¡¯t think we have time for you to learn an E-grade, but maybe you could defer something to later?

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, then his thoughts began to churn.

    What is the coolest and most useful Skill? The answer came to him instantly.

    He turned back to Terraform, incapable of hiding the smile itching its way across his face.

    ¡°I¡¯d like a few hours of time with a Traveler¡ªany rank is fine.¡± He hesitated, sending a quick message to Silver.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Should I keep my powers a secret? Play it off as something else?

    [Silver]: No point. He¡¯ll know no matter what. It¡¯s worth it, though. Plus, we can trust Terraform. He¡¯s good people.

    </blockquote>

    Terry considered that statement, a bit surprised by Silver¡¯s trust in the purveyor of a black market. Not to mention he¡¯d been playing a bit of hardball with the super from the start.

    But if Silver thought he could trust Terraform, then that was enough for him.

    ¡°I can copy Skills,¡± he admitted. It felt strange to be so open, but the excitement of getting a crack at a Traveler¡¯s Skill¡ªeven an F-grade¡ªoverrode his concern. ¡°I¡¯d like a couple hours with a Traveler to copy their F-grade teleport.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Terraform leaned back, his eyebrows rising in surprise. ¡°Incredible. That¡¯s a very interesting powerset.¡±

    ¡°And that stays between us.¡± Silver¡¯s posture was loose, casual, but his eyes were full of fire.

    Terraform held up his hand to ease his concern. ¡°I¡¯ll consider it part of the arrangement. Everything we¡¯ve discussed today will be in strict confidence.¡± He turned toward Terry. ¡°Though I can¡¯t guarantee the same for this Traveler. If your Skill is subtle enough, perhaps you can maintain your secrecy¡­¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°No, it¡¯s about as obvious as a copycat can get.¡±

    He spread his hands wide as if to say, there¡¯s nothing I can do, then.

    ¡°Terry will wear a mask and a robe while he copies the Skill,¡± Silver proclaimed. ¡°At least he can maintain his anonymity with whichever Traveler you provide.¡±

    Terraform nodded. ¡°That should work. It¡¯ll take me some time to gather your growing team and the necessary supplies, but I do have a D-rank Traveler in my employ that can assist you.¡± His eyes locked onto Terry, the corners wrinkling in a soft smile. ¡°I¡¯ll take you directly. He can be a bit of¡­an acquired taste.¡±

    ***

    Terry had expected to take another tunnel down to the Market proper; perhaps one connecting to the see-through glass bridges crisscrossing across the cavern.

    Instead, Terraform had literally punched a magical hole through the window overlooking the Market, a bridge of twinkling glass extending out into a path that wound down to the central cavern.

    The vertigo of walking hundreds of feet above a lava floor inside of a glass tunnel had only lasted a minute or two. Now that he had sort of adjusted, he was able to get a close up look of the Market¡ªand he was stunned speechless.

    The glass bridges that had looked like gossamer strands of glass interweaving across the cavern were much longer in person, extending wide enough for ten people to walk side-by-side. And there were at least a hundred of these bridges.

    Traffic had picked up since they¡¯d first arrived in Terraform¡¯s office and Terry had to wonder if that was in some part due to the seismic event of Silver¡¯ fight with Skipper. Whatever the case, hundreds of people were out and about now, displaying dazzling magic so casually that it made Wichita feel boring and mundane.

    He saw Elementalists ferrying packages with telekinesis, Duelists zipping around pedestrians with superhuman speed, Summoners with teams of summons to carry supplies, and more.

    Terry felt dumbstruck at the casual displays, having never been around so many Awakened at once. He doubted if there were more than a hundred supers total in Wichita¡ªmost of them below the C-rank. But each of the dozens of bridges seemed to have at least a handful of supers openly displaying powers as they went from one side of the cavern to the other.

    ¡°How many supers are there?¡± he gasped, his eyes trailing from one bridge to the other in giddy delight.

    Terraform shrugged at his side. ¡°My Market is a self-sustaining ecosystem, so many choose to live here full time. Perhaps a thousand?¡± he replied casually.

    ¡°A thousand!¡± Terry blurted in shock.

    Terraform chuckled. ¡°Residents, yes. Another couple hundred come and go daily. And many Awakened have retinues of unpowered that attend them. This morning¡¯s census put the population at ten thousand people, give or take.¡±

    Ten thousand¡­ten thousand people living underground, going about their days as if they weren¡¯t beneath a million tons of rock suspended above a pit of lava.

    Terraform noted his open-mouthed shock. ¡°Keep in mind, most are in the Cs or Ds. I don¡¯t allow many S-rankers into my Market.¡± His eyes flicked toward Silver with a flat look. ¡°They tend to be territorial and difficult to manage.¡± Silver placed a hand over his heart in mock outrage. ¡°But many of the A- and B-rankers present represent an S-ranked faction.¡±

    So many supers¡­

    ¡°How do you maintain control?¡± Terraform¡¯s head whipped around and Terry blanched. Only after the words left his mouth did he realize how the question sounded, considering what had basically been a breach of security less than an hour earlier. He held up his hands to protest his innocence. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to sound smart. I just mean¡­¡± He looked around, taking in the number of people¡ªand that didn¡¯t include those tucked away in the rooms honeycombed in the cavern wall. ¡°I imagine it¡¯s a full-time job.¡±

    Terraform was quick to wave away Terry¡¯s concern that he had offended the man. A wry smile touched his lips as he regarded Terry. ¡°Look where we are, young prince.¡± Terry glanced down, his stomach doing somersaults as his vertigo kicked in. ¡°Everything you see is my domain. There isn¡¯t a super alive that could challenge me here. Even Skipper took a quick snipe at Silver here, then bolted when he proved too resilient. Qui Shen himself couldn¡¯t claim the Market¡ªnot without paying dearly, anyway.¡±

    Mention of the other Singularity owner besides Dancer and Silver piqued Terry¡¯s interest. He turned toward his grandfather. ¡°How did Skipper know you had the Physical Singularity? From earlier conversations, it seemed like something that wasn¡¯t completely transparent.¡±

    Silver¡¯s face dropped and Terraform crossed his arms smugly.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the Elementalist asked with a wry tone. ¡°How did Skipper recognize the Singularity in you?¡±

    Silver rubbed at the back of his neck, a chagrined smile on his lips. ¡°Mighta shown off a smidge.¡± He suddenly pointed an accusatory finger toward Terraform. ¡°He denied me a token of entry and I got a little¡­annoyed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s my fault, then?¡± Terraform asked sarcastically.

    ¡°Well, it was your partner who tried to kill me and take my grandson hostage!¡±

    Terry blanched at those words. Had Silver accidentally let slip that they were related, or did Terraform already know. Whatever the case, the man didn¡¯t acknowledge the information as new, instead whirling around to face Silver.

    ¡°And how long are you gonna hold that against me, Lance?¡±

    Lance¡­?

    ¡°Wait,¡± Terry interrupted. ¡°You guys know each other?¡±

    Terraform scowled, while Silver chuckled. ¡°Course we do,¡± his grandfather replied. ¡°All us old birds know each other. Super community was lot more tight knit back in my day.¡±

    Terraform rubbed at his face, a weary look taking home there. ¡°Times were simpler, that¡¯s for sure.¡± He looked off, seeming lost in thought. When he looked back, there was sadness, maybe regret, in his eyes. ¡°If I had to trace the fall back to anything, it was your disappearance. Soon as it became clear you weren¡¯t coming back, the factions started nipping at each other¡¯s heels.¡±

    That information shocked Terry silent and he whipped around to stare at Silver. Just who was his grandfather, that he had been so important forty years ago?

    ¡°Yeah, well¡­what¡¯s done is done,¡± Silver replied wearily.

    Terraform simply nodded and silence reigned for the rest of the trip. It was only another minute before their moving glass bridge connected with another bridge near the top of the cavern. The passing traffic glanced over curiously, though they seemed to be staring more so at Silver and Terry than Terraform¡¯s casual working.

    Before they¡¯d left Terraform¡¯s office, he¡¯d at least provided a mask and robes, so Terry wasn¡¯t feeling completely exposed. But he couldn¡¯t miss the curious looks bordering on hungry that were cast his way.

    ¡°Enough reminiscing,¡± Terraform suddenly said as they settled on the connecting bridge. ¡°That way is the residence.¡± He pointed to the right. ¡°Mostly private apartments¡ªnothing that would interest you. But this way are the service sectors. There¡¯s a crafter¡¯s sector for the Artificers, Catalysts, and Alterants. A healer¡¯s sector for the Infusers. There¡¯s also a mental health wing inside the healer¡¯s sector where you can hire Hypnotists.¡± He glanced toward Terry. ¡°If you¡¯d like, we can remove the memory of Irilan¡¯s death.¡±

    Terry narrowed his eyes in confusion. ¡°Irilan? Oh¡­oh.¡± His mind flashed to that sticky ichor creeping across the hardwood toward his foot, the sounds of her primal screams as her skull was compressed into splinters. But worse than that, was the idea of letting another person inside his mind. ¡°I¡¯ll be okay¡­thanks.¡±

    Terraform nodded as if he had expected the answer.

    ¡°We call this large open cavern the Pit.¡± Terraform indicated the large drop down to the lava below with a grin. ¡°You can probably guess why. I¡¯ll take you to the service sector, but if you get hungry or thirsty, the food and entertainment sectors are toward the far wall.¡± He indicated the section of the Pit directly opposite his office. ¡°There¡¯s cafeterias, street vendors with infused food, theaters, sims, and so on. I don¡¯t have time to give you the full tour, unfortunately. Despite the seemingly placid nature of the Market, Skipper¡¯s betrayal has left a lot of loose ends to be snipped.¡±

    ¡°Fine with me,¡± Silver replied easily. ¡°Don¡¯t need a chaperone, anyhow.¡±

    Terry looked over to see a mischievous glint in his grandfather¡¯s eyes.

    Terraform sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. ¡°Don¡¯t get into any trouble, hm? My attention¡¯s split enough as it is.¡±

    ¡°No promises,¡± Silver said with a wink in Terry¡¯s direction.

    Terry rolled his eyes at his grandfather and turned to Terraform. ¡°We won¡¯t, sir.¡±

    Terraform smiled, thumbing toward Terry while he spoke to Silver. ¡°Seems like growing up without you as a bad influence has done wonders for his manners.¡±

    Silver chuckled. ¡°Yeah, lots of habits to break on that one.¡± He arched a brow toward Terry, then laughed as the boy crossed his arms.

    As they neared the end of the glass bridge leading toward the wall holding the services sector, a man rushed out from the end of the tunnel, his eyes catching on Terraform with a look of recognition. He beelined for the three of them, in a state of clear agitation.

    ¡°Terraform, sir, news on Tunnel 37¡ª¡±

    Terraform cut the man off with a raised hand and continued leading Terry and Silver toward the interior of the services sector. Terry looked back, shocked at the man¡¯s apparent rudeness, only to see that a golem made of pure glass had risen from the bridge and was taking the runner¡¯s report.

    ¡°How do you split your attention like that?¡± Terry wondered out loud. ¡°You must be pulled in so many directions.¡±

    Terraform looked down at him with a smile. ¡°Most Elementalists think Presence Attributes are the most important. And they are important, don¡¯t get me wrong. But they use that as an excuse to neglect their Mentals. But that¡¯s the trick, Terry. I worked decades to get my Processing Attributes into the S-ranks.¡± He glanced toward Silver. ¡°I¡¯m sure Lance will explain more in time.¡± He looked back, his eyes narrowed intently. ¡°Don¡¯t neglect your Mental Attributes. They¡¯re important for every Class, not just Savant.¡±

    Terraform continued to lead them into the interior of the services sector, which was well lit by Artificed lamps that exuded a subtle aura to Terry¡¯s senses. At first, he considered asking to stop in order to test if his Skills would work on the Artifacts. But then they entered the crafter¡¯s area and his eyes widened at the scene before him.

    A wide boulevard stretched out before them, cut directly into the stone. Shop fronts lined either side and both neon and magical lights flashed in competition for his attention. Pedestrian traffic was thicker here as people came and went from the shops or traveled the boulevard.

    As the three of them started down the road, eyes followed them surreptitiously¡ªno doubt wondering who the two strangers were that warranted Terraform¡¯s direct attention rather than that of one of his golems.

    Terry tried not to wither under the stares, his mask and hood giving him some semblance of confidence under those questing eyes. Thankfully, they didn¡¯t have to travel far before Terraform turned down a side street, heading straight for the building at the end. Above the doorway was a flashing neon sign with a stylized portal flickering invitingly. As they approached, a smaller handwritten sign was taped to the inner window.

    No, I can¡¯t portal people into or out of the Market! Stop asking!

    Terraform chuckled as his eyes flicked over the sign. He turned back with a shrug.

    ¡°Seems some folks have been trying to bypass the Market restrictions on Travel.¡± His lips pinched with realization. ¡°It¡¯s only gonna get worse without Skip on hand.¡±

    A voice called out from inside the store, full of heat and impatience.

    ¡°Get in or clear the way! You¡¯re blocking the way for actual paying customers!¡±

 Chapter 41: An Agoraphobic Traveler

    Terry very purposefully looked around the poorly-lit alley, noting the distinct lack of potential customers. He arched a brow at Terraform in question.

    ¡°Marlon¡¯s a bit eccentric.¡± Terraform shrugged with a wry smile. ¡°But he¡¯s trustworthy¡ª¡±

    Stomping feet sounded from inside the shop, followed by an animal growl.

    ¡°I told you to¡ª¡± The large figure stopped at the doorway, his furious expression melting away as he noted Terraform. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you. Hurry up then, get inside.¡±

    Marlon was a big man, round and disheveled. His hair dipped back from his forehead, creating a large bald spot on the top, while the sides were long and mangy. A grizzled beard coated his cheeks and neck unevenly, doing nothing to hide his quivering jowls. Wrapped around his large belly was a besmirched apron, slathered in a brown substance that Terry couldn¡¯t recognize.

    The Traveler pivoted around with a huff, his pants fighting for dear life to provide the proper cover for his plumber¡¯s crack¡ªand failing spectacularly.

    Silver and Terry exchanged a look filled with doubt, before his grandfather turned to Terraform.

    ¡°Him? Really?¡±

    Marlon¡¯s voice barked out, cutting across any reply. ¡°Get in or piss off!¡±

    Terraform cast them both an apologetic smile, then indicated for them to go first.

    Silver hesitated, clearly annoyed at the Traveler¡¯s gruff demeanor. But Terry appreciated that someone so clearly eccentric might also be someone less than interested in revealing a certain F-ranker¡¯s unusual powerset. So he passed through the threshold and into the most bizarre shop he¡¯d ever seen.

    Shelves lined the store, positioned haphazardly, crisscrossing back and forth rather than in straight lines, creating a sort of maze that obscured the rest of the space. He didn¡¯t know what kind of goods a Traveler could sell, but whatever that was, it wasn¡¯t this.

    Each shelf was stuffed edge-to-edge with a dizzying array of pottery in some form or other. Half-finished vases, broken bowls, rainbow-colored plates and dozens of other pieces telling a story of an amateur just learning a craft¡ªand making very poor progress.

    His grandfather followed behind, stopping at his side as they both took in the frankly unsettling sight before them.

    ¡°Who is this loon?¡± he asked Terraform. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be someone¡­else.¡±

    Before Terraform could reply, a small shape leaped down from the rafters above, landing among the top row of a nearby shelf. Terry jumped in surprise, then relaxed as he recognized the shape as a cat. His eyes tracked above and widened as he spotted half a dozen more of the felines lounging among little cat-sized hammocks or prowling the rafters.

    Silver also noted the cats and did an about-face, heading for the door.

    ¡°Nope. Nuh-uh. Not doing this with a blustering cat-boy who couldn¡¯t work a potter¡¯s wheel if his life depended on¡ª¡±

    He cut off as the cat prowling the top shelf leaped back up to the rafters, sending a half-dozen pieces of pottery tipping to the floor below.

    Or, they should have tipped to the floor below.

    In a flash, six small portals split across the air, catching each falling piece before they shattered against the floor. A blink later, six more portals materialized at different points on the shelf, right where each piece had been resting before the cat¡¯s sudden leap.

    Six pieces of pottery eased out of their respective portals, settling delicately back into their spots. But the shelf was still rocking from the cat¡¯s departure, and one of the more misshapen vases teetered as the portal deposited it, rocking off the edge of the shelf for another trip to the floor.

    Terry watched with bated breath as the vase fell, cringing as he waited for it to shatter below.

    To his surprise, another identical portal flashed into existence, catching the vase once more. But this time, the depositing portal didn¡¯t open on the shelf, but over thin air. It slid out of the portal slowly, then continued its fall back to the floor. Another portal opened at the last moment and caught it, where it was promptly deposited back into the air once more.

    As it made its third fall toward the floor, a much larger portal opened beneath it, and a meaty hand reached out as if it were extending from the ground. It caught the vase, then pulled it back through as the larger portal shut with a snapping sound. Marlon came around the set of disorderly shelves, his hand clutching the vase in question. He delicately set it back on the shelf in its former position, his lips pursed in annoyance.

    Terry¡¯s eyes were wide, not quite understanding what he had just seen. At his side, Silver¡¯s frosty demeanor had melted and he nodded appreciatively.

    ¡°Not bad. I see the portal anchor, but is that a temporal component, too?¡± he asked.

    Marlon¡¯s head shot up in surprise. ¡°A fellow enthusiast?¡± Silver nodded and the man¡¯s eyes lit up, his voice becoming animated as he spoke. ¡°It¡¯s an anti-fall enchantment. Or, rather, it¡¯s the first step towards an anti-collision enchantment. Still working out the kinks. Gravity is a persistent bitch¡ªsticks around like syphilis¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Marlon.¡± Terraform stepped forward, cutting off what appeared to be a burgeoning tirade. ¡°This is Silver and his ward. The young man can replicate powers and he¡¯s interested in your F-grade teleport.¡±

    Marlon cast a dismissive glance toward Terry before turning back to Terraform. ¡°Imitation is the basest form of art. How could you ever innovate if all you¡¯re doing is replicating, hm?¡± He pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in thought. ¡°Though, I wouldn¡¯t mind having a copy monkey to take over some of my responsibilities so I can focus more on experimentation.¡±

    ¡°Just your F-grade teleport, thank you, Marlon.¡± Terraform¡¯s tone was stern, like a parent scolding a child into cleaning their room.

    Marlon waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Bah, I¡¯m far too busy. How long would this copying take, hm?¡±

    Terraform turned to Terry in question.

    ¡°Umm, hour and a half? Maybe two?¡± Copying his father¡¯s body tempering had taken three hours, but his Presence Attributes had improved since then. Plus, he felt like he was starting to get a handle on the Skill after his long session with Silver. Though, he was still mentally exhausted from not only the session, but the run in with the Hypnotist. ¡°It could be longer,¡± he amended. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°Out of the question,¡± Marlon huffed, turning his back. ¡°I¡¯ll give you thirty minutes.¡±

    He started threading his large bulk through the tightly-packed shelves and Terry looked toward Silver and Terraform indecisively.

    The Elementalist shrugged, shaking his head. ¡°His sense of time is nebulous. Once you get started, I doubt he¡¯ll have any concept of how much time has passed.¡± He put a steadying hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t let his crass demeanor frighten you. He¡¯s more harmless than his kittens.¡±

    Silver frowned. ¡°Are you sure we can trust this guy? Doesn¡¯t exactly seem¡­all there.¡±

    Terraform nodded confidently. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t even cross Marlon¡¯s mind to sell you out. If it¡¯s not portal related, he doesn¡¯t care. Plus, he never leaves the Market, so I¡¯d know if he tried anything. Never leaves his shop, actually. He¡¯s agoraphobic.¡±

    ¡°An agoraphobic Traveler?¡± Silver asked skeptically.

    Terraform smiled sadly. ¡°There was an incident¡ª¡±

    ¡°What are you still doing back there!¡± Marlon shouted. ¡°Get over here, boy. You¡¯ve got twenty-eight minutes!¡±

    Terry cast a harried look at Silver, who just shrugged. Terraform gave him a reassuring smile and nodded in the direction Marlon had disappeared to.

    With a bit of reluctance, he started off through the pottery shelf maze, reaching more than one dead end barricaded by broken bits of pottery and other debris before he finally broke free from the ceramic graveyard.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The backside of Marlon¡¯s shop smelled of cat and clay¡ªa potent mix that had Terry wrinkling his nose. It wasn¡¯t an overly large space, most of the shop dedicated to the pottery shelves. But there was a small area cleared enough for the shopkeeper to sit and work on his pottery wheel. A small wicker chair groaned under Marlon¡¯s bulk as he started up the wheel with flicks of his foot.

    ¡°Take a seat, copycat.¡± The man¡¯s eyes never left the clay as his hands began to work it into shape.

    Terry looked around, wondering if he was supposed to sit on the floor. Broken pieces of ceramic and splatters of clay were layered around the wheel, and he hesitated uncertainly. But a moment later, Marlon flicked a hand¡ªand a glob of clay¡ªin Terry¡¯s direction. A portal split open at waist height and a matching wicker chair popped through.

    His analysis Skill itched as the portal sprung into existence, then dimmed as it slammed shut.

    ¡°Twenty-seven minutes,¡± Marlon grunted.

    Terry plopped down in a rush, his eyes wide. ¡°I need you to hold the Skill active.¡± Marlon¡¯s eyes flicked up through thick eyebrows and Terry gulped. ¡°Please, I mean.¡±

    The man grumbled, flicking another piece of clay as his aura shifted. A fist-sized portal slashed across the air horizontally. An identical one appeared right below it so that they were facing each other. He couldn¡¯t tell how he knew, but it was clear that only one side of each portal could be entered; the back sides faced the floor and the ceiling, respectively.

    ¡°Twenty-six minutes.¡±

    Terry felt an indignant flash rise up¡ªthere was no way a full minute had passed¡ªbut he quickly shoved it down, slipping into that familiar state of focus he had been cultivating during his analysis sessions.

    He let the Skill activate, extending his mind and aura forward. As he wrapped around the two portals, he was astounded to feel just how different this Skill was from Body Tempering or Silver¡¯s Metal Telekinesis.

    Marlon¡¯s aura seemed to be prying space apart where the portals stretched, holding it open to create a gap to somewhere. A tendril of aura branched off from the initial portal, extending through space to form a connection with its sister portal. Terry could feel inherently that there was a danger to a lone portal, that entering an unconnected split in space would lead to nothing¡ªdeath, or perhaps some indescribable limbo.

    He pushed away those thoughts, diving into the process, beginning his mold. Despite the seeming complexity of the dual portals and the tendril of power connecting them, it was a blessed relief to analyze an F-grade Skill after his session with Silver. His mind felt along the first portal¡¯s aura, memorizing the crevices and shapes easily in comparison.

    It was only when he had finished cataloging the first portal, did he run into a snag.

    His aura ranged along the connecting tendril, but found no shape to catalog. It felt as simple as a piece of thread linking together the two portals and he felt immediately that it wasn¡¯t triggering his Skill like it should have.

    Rather than get frustrated, he moved on, swapping to the second portal. He found it simple enough, the mold merely inverted to create an exit rather than an entrance. Which was interesting, because that meant these portals were one way. There was that same issue of being stuck in limbo should something accidentally enter through the incorrect portal.

    He shelved that question for later, focusing on carefully verifying the mold of the second portal to ensure there weren¡¯t any deviations he might have missed. When he was done, he let the Skill go and sat back. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed¡ªthe piece of misshapen clay on the pottery wheel showed no evidence of having been molded into anything of value and there was no sunlight in the Market to mark time. But when he looked up, Silver was standing there, watching him expectantly.

    He raised his eyebrows in question, but Terry just shook his head subtly; there had been no notification that he¡¯d cataloged the Metaphysical Component.

    Something was missing.

    ¡°Uh, Marlon, sir?¡± Terry ventured. ¡°I think I¡¯m missing something.¡±

    The man grunted, not bothering to look up. ¡°Course you are. A copycat¡¯ll only understand the surface level. And Traveling can¡¯t be done with just a surface-level understanding.¡±

    ¡°Will you teach me?¡± Terry asked.

    ¡°No,¡± the man replied simply. ¡°Time was up ages ago. Only let you keep going cause I was in the groove with my vase.¡±

    Terry glanced down at the blob of clay that lay limply on the wheel, then back toward Silver with a shrug.

    His grandfather¡¯s face was a cloud of anger and he stepped forward. ¡°Listen, cat-boy. We ain¡¯t leavin¡¯ till he¡¯s copied the Skill. Got it?¡±

    Marlon finally looked up, a bored disinterest on his face. ¡°Oh, yes you are.¡±

    Terry¡¯s analysis Skill activated just as a silver-blue portal began ripping open beneath his chair. Before it fully formed, a flash of aura unlike anything Terry had ever felt before cut across the portal, slamming it shut with violent energy.

    Silver grabbed Marlon by his shirt with a growl, hauling his large bulk to his feet effortlessly.

    ¡°No. We¡¯re not.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s eyes were wide¡ªthe first expression Terry had seen on the man¡¯s face that wasn¡¯t bored disinterest. He glanced back to where his portal had been forcibly slammed shut, then whipped his eyes back to Silver.

    ¡°You¡¯re the Prime!¡± His tone was practically idolizing. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything! The things I could do with your energy! It could advance my research decades¡ª¡±

    Silver rattled the man¡ªgently, but just enough to shut him up. ¡°I¡¯m not here to be your lab assistant. Teach the boy what you know and maybe¡ªmaybe¡ªI¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± He leaned in, his eyes opaque with silver magic. ¡°Got it?¡±

    Marlon seemed completely unintimidated. In fact, he seemed more excited than anything.

    ¡°Yes, yes! Whatever you need!¡±

    Silver¡¯s eyes bored into the man for a beat longer, than he sat him back into his wicker chair. Marlon turned toward Terry, his enthusiasm a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor.

    ¡°Your juvenile attempts at fumbling around my aura notwithstanding, you missed nearly half the Skill.¡± Terry ignored the subtle jab, excited to finally get the Skill cataloged. ¡°When I activate the portal, send your aura through the entrance. Tell me what you feel.¡±

    He nodded agreement, both excited and a bit worried. The portals had felt like hungry maws, black holes where space didn¡¯t exist. What if Marlon snapped it shut on his aura? Would he lose a part of himself? But he steeled his determination, ready to take the risk. If Marlon did miscalculate or cause an issue, Terry was certain Silver would be able to intervene¡­he hoped.

    The two parallel portals sprang back into existence and this time, Marlon gave Terry guidance.

    ¡°Send aura through the entrance and tell me what you feel.¡±

    He did as the Traveler said, reaching forward with his mind. His aura passed through with no resistance and he could feel the inside of that space like he¡¯d stuck a hand into the portal. His aura pressed against the interior, finding that it triggered his Skill just like the portals had. He began running his aura across the surface of the tunnel, but was interrupted by Marlon¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Well?¡± he barked. ¡°What do you feel?¡±

    Terry started, stammering for a moment before recovering. ¡°Oh, uh, it feels just like the exterior of the portals. There¡¯s folds and shapes that I have to memorize in order to cata¡­¡± He trailed off as Marlon shook his head.

    ¡°No, boy. What do you feel?¡±

    Unsure what the man was driving at, he looked to his grandfather for support. But Silver simply nodded for him to continue, so he focused on the aura inside the portal, trying to put in to words the sensation.

    ¡°It feels like¡­space is¡­condensed, maybe?¡±

    Marlon glowered, his frown thickening. ¡°You asking me or telling me?¡±

    A bit of frustration welled up. ¡°I don¡¯t know! Asking, I guess!¡±

    ¡°Not asking you to unlock the secrets of space-time, boy. Just tell me what you feel. What are your senses telling you?¡±

    He wanted to fire back, tell the man off for being so cryptic. But instead, he forced in a deep breath and turned his attention back to his aura.

    What am I feeling? he wondered.

    His aura felt¡­smaller, compressed, like the inside of the portal was thinning it out. No, not thinning, but stretching. Like the space between the entry and the exit wasn¡¯t a foot across, but infinitely smaller.

    ¡°I feel stretched,¡± he replied. ¡°Like the aura is being pulled. But it doesn¡¯t feel like the distances line up. Almost like space itself is being stretched, maybe?¡± He shook his head in frustration. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s hard to put into words.¡±

    He looked over to see Marlon nodding frantically as if he¡¯d just said the most profound thing he¡¯d ever heard. ¡°Excellent. Very good. You¡¯re not a complete waste of time, then.¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t know whether that was a flush of pride coming to his cheeks or if he should be annoyed at the man¡¯s previous assessment of him.

    ¡°Stick your hand in now and focus on the sensation on your flesh,¡± Marlon said casually.

    Stick my¡­

    He looked up to Silver in dawning horror.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± his grandfather said easily. ¡°He couldn¡¯t shut it on you if he tried. Not with me here.¡±

    Marlon grumbled under his breath at that, but otherwise didn¡¯t protest.

    Terry turned back to the portal entrance, images of his hand being sliced off at the wrist flashing in his mind.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± he replied with a fair bit of hesitation. His hand stretched forward, his fingertips playing against the silver-blue surface. It felt cold to the touch and he lingered there for a moment before taking another deep breath and shoving it through.

    His hand immediately popped out the far side of the exit portal, his fingers wiggling back at him, seemingly disconnected from his body at the wrist.

    The sight was disorienting, but what really struck him was the feeling on his wrist. It felt pulled across the distance, like he was both occupying the space between and not. If he couldn¡¯t see where his wrist entered and exited, he would have assumed nothing was in the space between them. But he could feel it¡ªboth with his mind and his body. A piece of him was still in there, distorted, but whole.

    ¡°You feel it, then?¡± Marlon asked.

    Terry nodded, continuing to wiggle his fingers as if to verify he still had that control.

    ¡°Weight takes energy to move,¡± Marlon continued. ¡°Moving a human-sized object across any length of space would take a colossal burst of energy¡ªfar more than you can provide at the F-rank. That¡¯s why most F-rankers can¡¯t teleport. The System doesn¡¯t provide the guidance to condense the structures being passed. We Travelers either learn it on our own or need to build toward it as we rank up.¡± He blew a raspberry in clear derision. ¡°Only idiots pick those Skills. Learning to condense the matter yourself is far superior.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Condense the matter? You can do that?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Otherwise the drain of maintaining the muscles, tendons, bones, and vasculature of your forearm would drain me dry in moments.¡± He narrowed his eyes, seeming to study Terry for a moment, before flicking his eyes up toward Silver. ¡°How about this? I¡¯ll teach my proprietary method to you¡ªit¡¯s incorporated in my Skill, so you should be able to replicate it. And in exchange, I get thirty minutes of your time¡ª¡± He said with a nod toward Silver. ¡°¡ªto examine the Physical Singularity.¡± He looked back to Terry, then seemed to realize something, flipping his eyes back to Silver. ¡°It is digested, yes?¡±

    Silver pursed his lips, but nodded.

    Marlon¡¯s face lit up and he clapped, startling Terry¡ªand all of his cats, judging by the flurry of sudden activity above. A series of leaps onto shelves caused pottery to cascade into portals that caught their falls, but Marlon seemed not to even notice, even as some of the anti-fall portals lost the trajectory of their charges and pottery clattered to the ground.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s begin. Here¡¯s how you condense living matter¡­¡±

 Chapter 42: Meet the Team

    Two very long, very exhausting hours later, Terry settled back, his body aching from the wicker chair, his mind from the vast aura architecture he had cataloged inside the dead space between the two portals. But as he read the new notifications rolling in, a weary smile touched his lips.

    Metaphysical component cataloged¡­

    Partial Skill acquired¡ªHigh-Efficiency Matter Transportation (F)

    Genetic Analysis required before Affixation is available.

    Aura Projection: E5 ¡ú E6

    Aura Control: E6 ¡ú E7

    Aura Perception: E8

    Presence Average: E6 ¡ú E7

    ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± he muttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. ¡°I just need to catalog your genetic material and¡­¡±

    He drifted off, the stacked ten-hour analysis session with Silver, then the multi-hour session with Marlon proving too much. He fell into a deep sleep without realizing it.

    Images flashed inside his mind. His mother fighting against Sol as the man begged her to listen. His father¡¯s burning eyes as he stomped the Siren to death. The draugr staring at him with open contempt, its aura smashing into him like an avalanche.

    The blood-coated blade in the Awakening Chamber was in his hand, that woman¡¯s terrible screaming echoing in his ears.

    A squelching sound at his feet, bits of brain and blood oozing from the stone helmet as Terraform squeezed the Hypnotist¡¯s brain to pulp.

    He awoke with a strangled scream, pushing away from something that was pinning him down. It was dark, the barest illumination lighting the space, disorienting him as he tried to figure out what had happened.

    A hand went to his shoulder and he spun around, flinging his arm out blindly. Silver¡¯s familiar face stared down at him, his hands up in a calming gesture.

    ¡°You¡¯re okay, Terry. You¡¯re safe.¡±

    His heart was thudding in his chest, trying to break free from the flesh and bone. ¡°Wh-what happened? Where are we?¡±

    He looked around and realized they were on a moving platform of rock inside a tunnel. There were a handful of people on the edge of the platform, casting hooded gazes toward him, then quickly looking away as he caught their eyes. One of them was standing at the very front of the platform, his hands raised, his aura flared. It took him a moment to realize that the man was an Earth Elementalist carving their passage through the stone.

    ¡°We¡¯re not in the Market anymore?¡± he asked dully.

    Silver shook his head. ¡°No, your father messaged me and asked us to return. It¡¯s a multi-hour trip, so I pushed back saying you were sleeping. But I thought it best if we headed back sooner rather than later.¡±

    Terry nodded, then was hit by a sudden realization as he spotted the notifications still flashing before his eyes.

    ¡°The Skill!¡± The people near the edge of the platform looked over at his words. He lowered his voice, though the panic was still very much present. ¡°I only got half of it,¡± he hissed. ¡°I still need the genetic component.¡±

    All that time wasted. When was he gonna get another opportunity to visit Marlon to finish the cataloging?

    Dammit, why couldn¡¯t I just stay awake!

    A smile touched Silver¡¯s face and he pulled out a small vial from his pocket. ¡°Don¡¯t worry bout it, kid. I got you covered.¡±

    Terry gasped, then reached out to grab the vial. There was a bundle of hairs inside and as soon as his fingers touched one of them, the Genetic Analysis Skill tried to activate.

    ¡°Wow, thank you.¡± He was hyper aware of the glances flicking toward him from the six people on the other end of the platform. ¡°Who are they?¡± he asked quietly.

    Silver looked over and smiled. ¡°Your team.¡±

    His eyes bugged out and he regarded the six Awakened in a new light.

    My team¡­

    A new notification flickered into view and his eyes widened.

    [Feed Wichita] Quest Updated

    Team Acquired¡­

    Calculating Next Step¡­

    Quest Updated

    Next Step: Begin Your Operation

    He read those words a few times, his eyes bleary and his mind slow to process. Then, the realization that the first impression he¡¯d just made on his new team was of him waking up screaming from nightmares.

    Great¡­

    Rising to his feet, he risked a glance over at the six people that were likewise sneaking looks at him. He felt a flush of heat hit the back of his neck at the attention, but forced himself to stand upright¡ªthe illusion of control, even if all he wanted to do was slink away and let someone else take charge.

    With a steadying breath, he started over to the cluster of people, his limbs vibrating from adrenaline. One of the men noticed his approach and got the others¡¯ attention. They turned to face him, various looks of curiosity and skepticism on their faces. The Elementalist actually transporting them spared a quick glance over, then turned his attention back to the task of parting the stone.

    Terry gave a quick wave to the other five, his stomach flipping anxiously as he approached.

    ¡°Hey there, I¡¯m Terry.¡± The words felt hollow, lacking any of the gravitas or command he¡¯d seen his father and grandfather possess.

    They shared curious glances, none of them speaking for a moment. After the silence began to grow awkward, they looked to one of their members in unison. Of the six, two were women and four were men. The person they all looked to was one of the women and she acknowledged the expectation with a nod.

    ¡°I¡¯m Fluorescent,¡± she said, stepping forward with a hand held out. She was slightly taller than Terry, with an athletic build. She had a confident posture to her that made him guess she was the B-ranker Terraform had promised. ¡°People just call me Flore.¡±

    Terry gratefully accepted the handshake, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Flore. Can I assume from your name that you¡¯re our Light Elementalist?¡±

    She grinned, shrugging casually. ¡°You caught me.¡± She thumbed over her shoulder. ¡°Rest of these grubs are Earthies, ¡®cept for Alan and Tristan.¡± She pointed toward a heavyset man in his mid-twenties. ¡°Alan¡¯s good with pulling water from the ground.¡± Next to him was a smaller woman with mousy features and bangs nearly obscuring her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s Katie¡ªshe¡¯ll handle nutrients, vitamins, minerals, and so on. Next to her is Peter.¡± She indicated a tall, thin man who seemed to wither under their attention. ¡°He¡¯s our plant-whisperer,¡± she added with a smile. Peter returned her smile sheepishly and Terry realized that Flore wasn¡¯t just the highest ranked member of the team, but also the de facto leader. The way they all looked to her as she introduced them made that clear. ¡°Tristan¡¯s my apprentice.¡± She indicated a younger boy, probably only a year or two older than Terry. Peach fuzz lined his upper lip and Terry didn¡¯t envy the acne outbreak working its way across the boy¡¯s forehead. At the sound of his name, he flinched, as if he¡¯d been called out for doing something wrong. ¡°He¡¯s gearing up to work with light, but he¡¯s only an E-ranker right now.¡± She cast him a bright smile that turned his cheeks red and he looked at the ground to hide the obvious flush.

    Terry couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit of heat rise to his own cheeks. How would they react if they knew he was only an F-ranker?

    He hoped to glaze over that fact, but the sixth member¡ªthe man who was parting the tunnel and ferrying them so effortlessly¡ªturned to look over his shoulder. He was mid to late-twenties, tall with hawkish features. His nose was large and angular, his eyes narrowed skeptically as he regarded Terry.

    ¡°And what¡¯s your power? You don¡¯t feel like a D-ranker. High Es, maybe.¡± His accent was subtle, but distinctly Russian, his tone clipped and borderline aggressive. It was unusual to meet Russians outside of their country, given the hostility between them and the North American and European supers.Stolen story; please report.

    But he didn¡¯t give the man¡¯s origins a second thought. What bothered him was the accusatory tone and the demanding nature of that question.

    He saw Silver¡¯s head snap toward the man, his aura flaring to life. Terry put a hand on his grandpa¡¯s arm, giving him a look that said volumes. A wry smile touched Silver¡¯s face and he nodded in acknowledgment.

    Turning toward the man, Terry forced a smile to his face. ¡°I¡¯m Terry Fairway. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    The man¡¯s lips set, his chin rising haughtily. ¡°Vladimir Petronovich. C-ranked Elementalist.¡± He proclaimed his rank like it was a title of nobility.

    ¡°C-rank. Amazing,¡± Terry said with a fawning tone. ¡°Very impressive.¡± He turned toward Silver, nodding enthusiastically. ¡°Isn¡¯t that impressive?¡±

    Silver scoffed, but otherwise didn¡¯t reply. Vladimir narrowed his eyes, examining the man in a new light. But Terry could tell his grandpa¡¯s aura was held in tight now, hiding his power so that he looked more like a D-ranker. At Silver¡¯s age, there were only two possibilities. Either he was a high-ranker or he¡¯d reached a bottleneck at either his Midmark or Capstone. Given the aura he was projecting, it wouldn¡¯t be unusual for Vlad to assume the older man was a D-ranker. He¡¯d be dead wrong, but it wouldn¡¯t be unusual.

    The stone platform ferrying them came to a grinding halt as Vladimir turned toward the two of them.

    ¡°And what¡¯s so funny, hm?¡± He took a step forward, his chin raised as if to look down on them. ¡°Something to say old man?¡±

    Flore reached out, a look of concern on her face. ¡°Vlad, don¡¯t! You heard Terraform¡ª¡±

    He kept his eyes locked on Silver and Terry, but his tone softened as he replied to Flore. ¡°I won¡¯t be patronized by an E-ranker and his Midmark-trapped grunt.¡± His lips pursed in thought. ¡°Maybe if they apologize now, I won¡¯t leave them stranded under miles of stone.¡±

    ¡°Vlad!¡± Flore started, but cut off as Alan¡ªthe Water Elementalist¡ªgasped.

    ¡°Terry Fairway? As in Terrence Fairway!¡± He looked around, waiting for others to recognize the name. Blank stares met him and his eyes bugged out. ¡°Terrence Fairway, otherwise known as¡ª¡± His eyes cut toward Silver. ¡°¡ªEmperor Necroton.¡±

    Even Vladimir blanched at the name and for once, Terry was happy to lean on his grandfather¡¯s reputation to elicit a bit of respect.

    ¡°Oh, you must be confused.¡± He indicated Silver with a wave. ¡°This isn¡¯t Emperor Necroton. The Emperor¡¯s in Wichita right now.¡± Vladimir¡¯s face drained of color, his mouth hanging open. The others shared shocked looks. ¡°This is Silver, my¡­bodyguard. He¡¯s a Duelist¡­S-ranked.¡±

    Flore gasped. Vladimir licked his lips nervously. Alan, Peter, Katie, and Tristan shot glances between Silver and Vladimir, as if waiting for their teammate to be eviscerated any moment.

    ¡°You were right, though. My name is Terrence Fairway, prince of Wichita. And Emperor Necroton is my grandfather. You were wrong about something though¡­I¡¯m not an E-ranker.¡± Vladimir¡¯s haughty posture and upturned nose had degraded into the hollow look of a man approaching the gallows. But as much as Terry enjoyed watching him torn down a peg, and though he couldn¡¯t forget that the Elementalist had threatened to leave them to die, he didn¡¯t want to start off their partnership with bad blood. ¡°No, I¡¯m just a lowly F-ranker, newly Awakened less than forty-eight hours ago.¡±

    Now, he did enjoy the looks of utter surprise that filtered among the six of them. He let that realization percolate, staying silent as the shift in their demeanors settled in.

    After a few moments of silence, it was Tristan¡ªFlore¡¯s light apprentice¡ªwho spoke up.

    ¡°Pardon, sir, er, prince¡ª¡±

    ¡°Terry is fine, Tristan,¡± he replied easily.

    ¡°Um, okay. Your pardon, Terry, but if you¡¯re an F, then who¡¯s our boss?¡± He looked toward Silver. ¡°Is it you, sir?¡±

    Silver shook his head with a soft smile. ¡°Me? No, I¡¯m not a people person.¡± His eyes locked onto Vladimir, a true predator eyeing the pretender. ¡°I¡¯m just the enforcer.¡±

    In a move that appeared so fast it might as well have been teleportation, Silver was behind the Earth Elementalist, his hands placed on either shoulder. Vladimir yelped in surprise as the wind of Silver¡¯s passage ruffled his hair. He clearly tried to whirl around, but Silver¡¯s grip held him fast.

    ¡°My charge, Terry, is the boss. As far as you¡¯re concerned, he¡¯s God himself.¡± He leaned in so that his mouth was right beside Vladimir¡¯s ear. ¡°Is that clear?¡±

    A shiver traced up the Elementalist¡¯s back and he nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Yes, sir!¡±

    Silver turned to regard the others. ¡°Clear?¡±

    Frantic nods and ¡®yes, sirs¡¯ were his answer from the group and he nodded, a bright smile replacing the grim expression from a moment before.

    ¡°Excellent!¡± He clapped loud enough to make Vladimir wince and throw his hands over his ears, then looked toward Terry with a wide grin. ¡°They¡¯re all yours.¡±

    Terry winced himself at the ham-fisted intimidation, though he had to admit that it was effective. But he wanted to cultivate a team, not a dictatorship.

    ¡°Listen, everyone. I¡¯ve commissioned you from Terraform for one goal and one goal only. And that is to grow food for the people of Wichita. The conflict with Topeka has left our farms irradiated and our sun obscured.¡± Flore¡¯s face shifted, fear and hesitation replaced with a furrowed brow. He held her gaze, knowing that she was the most important person to convince. With her on his side, the others would come on board. ¡°I promise that I won¡¯t ask any of you to do anything morally questionable. We¡¯re farmers, plain and simple¡ªsuperpowered farmers, but farmers all the same. Now, if any of you have an issue with our mission or with a lowly F-ranked teenager running the show, speak up now. I¡¯ll let Terraform know and we¡¯ll have you returned to the Market.¡± He cast his eyes across the six of them, lingering the longest on Vladimir. ¡°But tell me now.¡±

    They all shared looks with various levels of concern, before turning toward Flore to see her reaction. Terry also looked to her, wondering if he had misjudged the woman.

    After a moment, she seemed to recognize that the others were looking to her for guidance. She pursed her lips in thought, then nodded.

    ¡°I trust Terraform and he vouched for you.¡± Terry felt his anxiety begin to ease, but a frown formed on her face. ¡°If it really is as simple as growing food for hungry people, then I¡¯m in. But I want no part in the politics of Emperor Necroton or the fight with your neighbors. If it seems like you¡¯ve misled us, then I¡¯m out.¡± She looked toward her team, her eyes lingering on Vlad pointedly before turning back to Terry. ¡°I can¡¯t speak for the others, but those are my terms.¡±

    Terry nodded slowly, taking in the other five Elementalists. ¡°That works for me. My only caveat is that you all agree to keep our location and mission a secret.¡±

    Flore nodded, then looked to her team for their answers.

    At her side, her apprentice, Tristan, shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m with Flore. If she¡¯s good, I¡¯m good.¡±

    Alan and Katie¡ªthe water specialist and the nutrients specialist¡ªboth echoed agreement. Peter, the plant-whisperer, as Flore had called him, didn¡¯t speak, but instead gave a shy nod. All eyes turned toward Vladimir, whose face was set like the stone he so effortlessly moved.

    After a moment that stretched uncomfortably long, the man finally gave a short nod, his lips stretched tight just short of a frown.

    It¡¯ll have to do, he thought. But I¡¯ll break you down and make you like me. And if you won¡¯t like me, you¡¯ll at least respect me.

    Vladimir was like the element he controlled, rigid and inflexible, but brittle under pressure. He¡¯d eventually warm up, so long as Terry acted in good faith and demonstrated a tireless work ethic.

    ¡°I appreciate your faith. I¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t regret it. In the coming days, I¡¯d like to sit down individually and get a better understanding of your capabilities and role within the team, but for now, I need to recharge.¡± He gave them a self-effacing smile. ¡°As you probably noticed, my nap wasn¡¯t exactly restful and it¡¯s been¡­a stressful couple of days.¡±

    Some of them chuckled softly, which Terry took as a victory.

    ¡°Vladimir, would you mind telling me how much longer until we reach the surface?¡± Terry very carefully modulated his tone, making sure his words sounded more like a request than demand.

    The Elementalist didn¡¯t sneer or turn up his nose as he answered, which was already significant progress. ¡°Two more hours if I follow our current trajectory. The plan as given to me by Terraform was to head up and ask for directions when we were a mile below the surface. Now that I know we¡¯re heading to Wichita, I can divert directly. That¡¯ll add another hour.¡±

    Terry nodded, forcing a smile on his lips. ¡°Excellent. Thank you, Vladimir.¡± He turned to encompass the group. ¡°Let Silver know if you need anything.¡± He flashed his grandpa a grin and the man glowered back, clearly irritated at being on liaison duty.

    He typed out a quick message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I wanna finish cataloging Marlon¡¯s Skill. Try not to kill any of them please.

    [Silver]: What do you take me for? Plus, we¡¯re too far from the surface for me to teleport us out. If I did kill this Vlad character, not saying I would, but if I did, we¡¯d be stranded. And these other Elementalists don¡¯t seem up to the task of getting us home.

    </blockquote>

    Terry rolled his eyes at the man. As far as promises went, it was lukewarm, but it would have to do.

    Fingering the vial filled with Marlon¡¯s hair with anticipation, he moved to the end of the rock platform and sat cross-legged. The platform groaned as Vladimir started them up again, causing some of the others to yelp in surprise. But Terry barely noticed, his mind already turned to Marlon¡¯s genetic material.

    Now that he was more familiar with the process, it wasn¡¯t too difficult to match the data flashing across his mind to the mold he¡¯d made of the teleport Skill. It had been a much more complex variant than the Body Tempering Skill he¡¯d learned from his father, but significantly less so than the E-grade telekinesis he had been cataloging with Silver. Still, it was complicated enough that he couldn¡¯t fully trust his memory and had to refer back to the Skill catalog that was lodged in his mind. He found that he could access it by thinking upon the component intentionally, pulling up the mold with a thought.

    The identification process went relatively smoothly once he got into a groove and he was able to identify all the matching genetic components to the corresponding metaphysical mold within less than an hour.

    When that familiar notification appeared in his vision, he couldn¡¯t help but grin like an idiot.

    Genetic-Metaphysical component cataloged¡­

    New Skill Cataloged: High-Efficiency Matter Transportation (F)

    New Affixation available. Revert previous Affixation?

    He indicated yes with a thought and immediately felt his skin and aura shift. The sensation was eerie, like bugs crawling through his muscles and bones, while his aura pulsed uncomfortably. The process only lasted a few minutes, but he had to force himself not to grimace through the irritation¡ªhe didn¡¯t want the others to notice what he was doing for obvious reasons.

    When the process was done, a new notification appeared.

    New Affixation available. Affix?

    He confirmed the request, the changes spiking a new wave of skin-crawling discomfort before settling into position. His new Skill was affixed only a few minutes later.

    New Skill Affixed: High-Efficiency Matter Transportation (F ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Use aura to part space and create a bridge to another location. Distance and duration of the bridge are dependent on the mass of the entrants and the caster¡¯s mastery of space and aura manipulation.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank, understanding, and aura control increase, so can this Skill.

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened as he read the Skill description. Upgradeable! Why hadn¡¯t anyone told him about that being a possibility? He turned toward Silver who was sitting cross-legged beside him, his eyes closed. Terry felt his grandfather¡¯s aura shifting subtly and wondered if he was body tempering. He thought about waiting until he was done to bother him, but barely a handful of seconds passed before his impatience won out. Instead of speaking where everyone could hear, he typed out a System message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I just finished affixing Marlon¡¯s Skill and it says it¡¯s Upgradeable!

    </blockquote>

    Silver peeked one eye open to look at him, the corner of his lip turning up in a smile before he closed his eye again.

    <blockquote>

    [Silver]: Excellent news. I suspected it would be. The Traveler was clearly a master, even if he was stuck at the Ds.

    [Terry]: What does it mean? Well, I get the surface level meaning, but is there a clear way to upgrade it or is it just something that happens with time?

    </blockquote>

    He was itching to start experimenting, but forced himself to wait for Silver¡¯s answer.

    <blockquote>

    [Silver]: An Upgradeable Skill is typically a sign of mastery as I mentioned. It¡¯s incredible you¡¯ve been able to copy over that aspect. The way to improve it is both simple and incredibly difficult at the same time. You¡¯ll need to work on the matter condensing tips he gave you to solidify your understanding. Getting your aura control and projection higher will help, too. But even an upgradeable Skill won¡¯t evolve to the next tier until you get your overall ranking there first. Once you become an E-ranker, it¡¯ll just be trial and error to rank the Skill up.

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded. That all made sense. As eager as he was to see what upgrading the Skill would do, he¡¯d only been an Awakened for a few days¡ªhe had a lot of things to improve and work on before then. Still, he had to at least test out his new Skill.

    With a thought, he accessed it, feeling his aura shift away from him to begin tearing a hole in space.

    Here goes nothing!

 Chapter 43: Feed Wichita

    Space split, forced apart by his aura. The sensation was intoxicating¡ªand a bit terrifying. As much as he was getting used to the magic of auras and the System interface, there was something surreal about feeling the fabric of existence part at his command.

    But he wasn¡¯t going to let that stop him. He continued pulling apart the edges of space, ripping a hole wide enough for a fist to fit through. The demand on his aura felt light at first, but increased at a dizzying pace. His connection felt strained, increasingly distant as he tried to push more and more aura into the rend in the air.

    Something was wrong.

    He snapped his eyes open and was momentarily struck dumb as he looked for the fist-sized portal and found¡­nothing. Reaching through the connection in his aura, he realized that the thread connecting him to the tear was distant, well out of physical reach.

    Then he saw it, his small cut through space flashing in the distance, well back from where Vladimir was propelling their stone berth. The portal had remained static in space, even as they continued moving, leaving it behind them.

    He felt like a complete idiot as he released the connection, letting the portal snap shut as his aura reeled back toward him.

    Of course it would remain static, dummy. He shook his head in annoyance at himself, then glanced around to see if anyone had spotted his embarrassing display.

    Thankfully, the others were engaged in quiet conversation in a tight circle, clearly not paying any attention to him or Silver at his side. As for his grandfather though, the bearer of the Physical Singularity couldn¡¯t help but feel his fledgling attempt at cutting through space. When Terry looked over, Silver¡¯s brow was arched and he was clearly doing his best to bite his tongue.

    Terry sighed, shaking his head at himself. ¡°You don¡¯t have to say anything, I¡¯m an idiot.¡±

    His grandfather chuckled and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s only natural to wanna test out your new abilities. Especially something as rare as portals. But as you¡¯ve discovered, space don¡¯t like it when folks play with her. You gotta woo her, coax her open, ask for permission ¡®fore you ent¡ª¡±

    Terry whipped his head around, finding himself distinctly uncomfortable with the budding metaphor. Silver snorted at his look, holding a hand up in apology.

    ¡°Just lightening the mood.¡± The twinkle in his eyes dimmed, his lips setting tight. ¡°But jokes aside, portals are to be respected at all times. Never, and I mean never, enter a portal if you¡¯re not damn sure the other side¡¯s clear. Line of sight is a must until you¡¯ve got a feel for it. Think back to my little run in with Skipper. Bastard teleported me into solid rock. Anyone else woulda been mashed potatoes.¡± He leaned in, his tone deadly serious. ¡°Always know your exit point. Always.¡±

    Terry swallowed, feeling his grandfather¡¯s intensity through his eyes and voice. The lesson resonated and he resolved not to play around with the Skill without some very strict guidelines.

    Not to say he wasn¡¯t going to experiment¡ªhe had to. But on solid ground, in clear line of sight, and absolutely not with any part of his own body. Inanimate objects only for the foreseeable future. It put a bit of a damper on his dreams of zipping around Wichita like a natural Traveler, but not trapping any of his limbs¡ªor himself¡ªin that inner space took priority.

    ¡°Exit point,¡± he replied. ¡°Got it.¡± He glanced over to the group of Elementalists nearby. He hadn¡¯t noticed before, but they had a stack of crates that he had missed in the excitement of the face off with Vladimir. Supplies to get the farm started, he hoped. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go try and make friends. Wish me luck.¡±

    Silver looked over toward the Elementalists, then turned back with a shrug. ¡°Suit yourself. I¡¯ll be here.¡±

    Terry nodded and rose to his feet. Tristan, Flore¡¯s apprentice, spotted him first and subtly interrupted their conversation to direct their attention over. He felt a little bit like a spotlight had been cast on him, but he tried to remind himself that this was his team. Though he wasn¡¯t familiar with the feeling, he was the boss and he needed to demonstrate a bit more confidence and ease than he was used to.

    ¡°Hey guys,¡± he said with a friendly wave. ¡°How¡¯s everyone feeling about the mission now that you¡¯ve had some time to talk?¡± He noticed Vladimir glance over from the corner of his eye, but didn¡¯t return the look, keeping his focus on the others.

    Instinctively, they turned to Flore and she bit her lip before forcing a smile on.

    ¡°We knew what we were signing up for,¡± she replied. ¡°At least, we had an idea it would be something related to our abilities. We¡­we are happy that it seems to be for a good cause.¡±

    Her hesitation was palpable.

    ¡°But?¡± he prompted gently.

    The smile faltered and she glanced at the others briefly, feeling their expectant eyes on her. ¡°Not a but, exactly. There has been¡­some talk about working for Emperor Necroton. The rumors on the Internet haven¡¯t exactly been kind.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise. ¡°Oh, I see.¡±

    Flore quickly held up her hands as if she was worried she had offended him. ¡°I¡¯m not saying we won¡¯t do it or anything. We¡¯re just¡­¡± She trailed off, looking around for help.

    To the surprise of them all, it was Vladimir that spoke. ¡°They¡¯re worried Necroton will kill them when the job¡¯s done,¡± he replied with a matter-of-fact tone. ¡°Snip the loose ends so word doesn¡¯t get out.¡±

    Flore¡¯s eyes narrowed in annoyance, while the others shared desperate looks, as if Vladimir had just sunk their chances of getting out alive.

    Terry felt a bubble of macabre humor rising inside him. It wasn¡¯t that he could fault them for being afraid¡ªthe Emperor scared even him sometimes. It was more so that they still seemed so ready to march into what they saw as certain death.

    He felt an involuntary smile forming and did his best to suppress it. But he couldn¡¯t hide it entirely and the others noticed.

    ¡°Are you¡­smiling?¡± Alan, the Water Elementalist, asked, his tone incredulous.

    Terry put a hand to his mouth and held his other up in a calming gesture. ¡°No,¡± he said through his palm.

    Tristan turned wide-eyed toward Flore. ¡°He is smiling! I knew it, we¡¯re dead!¡±

    Terry snorted through his palm and desperately shook his head when the others just grew even more wide-eyed. A panic ran through the lower ranks and they backed up as one, leaving Flore on an island by herself. Unlike the others, she was eyeing him with a furrowed brow, clearly not giving in to alarm like the others.

    Sensing that he was watching a herd about to stampede, he bit his lip¡ªhard¡ªand forced himself to take the situation seriously.

    ¡°Guys, please!¡± He held his hands up now, doing his best to look calm and confident. ¡°No one¡¯s going to kill you.¡±

    ¡°Your bodyguard implied otherwise,¡± Flore replied with a cool tone. ¡°If we didn¡¯t follow your orders.¡±

    Terry looked back to see Silver¡¯s eyes closed, but couldn¡¯t miss the pleased smirk on the man¡¯s face. He face-palmed, turning back to the others with a more serious expression.

    ¡°He was exaggerating, seriously.¡± He looked toward Vladimir, who was watching him far too closely. ¡°I need you guys, okay?¡± He sighed. ¡°But if you¡¯re that afraid for your lives, then just drop me and Silver off in Wichita and head back to the Market. I¡¯m sure Terraform would be happy to send others in your place.¡±

    Tristan shook his head wildly. ¡°He¡¯ll kill us if we return without even attempting the job!¡± he proclaimed hopelessly, his eyes turning frantic as he looked at the others. ¡°We¡¯re dead no matter what!¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Silver¡¯s voice barked from the other side of the platform, causing them all to jump in surprise.

    ¡°Oh, Jesus save me. Enough!¡± He was on his feet now, approaching with a measured pace. He held one hand low, as if he were nearing a spooked animal. ¡°Everyone calm the fuck down, will ya? No one¡¯s gonna kill y¡¯all unless you do something really stupid.¡± He cast a dark look toward Vladimir. ¡°Like attack the prince, for example.¡± The Earth Elementalist didn¡¯t hold his gaze, looking down in submission. ¡°Now, we already done had this conversation, but let¡¯s run it back for those of you who¡¯re feeling skittish.¡± It was Tristan¡¯s turn to wilt under the man¡¯s gaze, though Silver let him off the hook with a sigh. ¡°Anyone not willing or able to grow some damn fruits and veggies to feed starving folks, raise their hands.¡±

    The expressions of panic eased a bit and they all shared hopeful looks as the realization hit that they wouldn¡¯t be murdered for any perceived slight.

    Then, Tristan raised his hand, eliciting a gasp from the others and causing Terry¡¯s brow to raise in surprise.

    ¡°Put your hand down, Tristan!¡± Flore hissed.

    Tristan looked at his own hand in shock, as if it had betrayed him, then cast a horrified look toward Flore.

    ¡°No! No! I wasn¡¯t-I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡± He took a step back in obvious terror. ¡°I just had a question!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not a school boy, son,¡± Silver scolded. ¡°Just spit it out.¡±

    Tristan blanched under the man¡¯s stare, his shoulders bunched high as if to hide. ¡°Sorry, I was just wondering if we¡¯ll be growing meat, too? I-¡± He withered under the shocked looks of his fellows, but powered on through sheer lack of sense. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m only asking cause I started this new carnivore diet and I¡¯m only eating meat¡­¡± He trailed off as Flore growled something under her breath. Holding up his hands, he shook his head. ¡°Know what? Don¡¯t mind me, fruit and veggies sound great.¡±

    <hr>

    When they approached Wichita from below, Terry had them stop well away from the surface. Any sort of seismic disturbance could possibly be spotted by wraiths passing through the earth or nearby supers with an affinity for the ground.

    Rather, with Silver¡¯s permission, he had the man utilize his teleport abilities to ferry them from the underground into the warehouse. While Terry was nervous about his own teleport Skill, he knew his grandfather¡¯s mastery of space was leagues above his own poor understanding.

    The eight of them passed through the portal, requiring a few trips to collect all of the equipment crates they¡¯d brought with them. Vladimir was the last one through, closing off the tunnel behind them for a significant distance to hide any evidence of their passage. Should they need to return to the Market, they¡¯d retrace their steps, as the Traveler¡¯s system Terraform had setup was compromised with Skipper¡¯s betrayal. But for now, Terry didn¡¯t see any immediate need to leave the tunnel they¡¯d opened exposed.

    Once all the gear and people were inside the warehouse, Silver let the portal close. When the dim light of the portal disappeared, they were cast into darkness. The pitch black panicked the newcomers and the sounds of their elevated breathing and scuffing feet filled the warehouse. Terry understood the feeling and didn¡¯t blame them one bit¡ªthere was a time shortly after Shadow¡¯s attack when he would have fallen into a full-blown panic attack in these sort of conditions.

    A brush of wind signaled Silver¡¯s departure and a second later, the lights slammed on with a thud. Alan, the Water Elementalist, yelped and even Vladimir couldn¡¯t hide the look of fear on his face before Terry spotted it. He masked it with a scowl and Terry gave him the dignity of pretending like he hadn¡¯t noticed.

    Silver was back in an instant, a second rush of wind following his arrival.

    Tristan eyed the man with open awe. ¡°Traveler and Duelist?¡± he muttered to himself, though his voice echoed loudly. ¡°Lucky.¡±

    His grandfather chuckled at that. ¡°I started out as an Elementalist, kid. You could transition too, potentially.¡±

    Tristan gasped, the realization clearly flooring him. Flore looked between the two of them in obvious disapproval, but to her credit, didn¡¯t suck the wind out of Tristan¡¯s sail. Instead, she turned to Terry expectantly.

    ¡°So, any guidance or should we just start unloading?¡±

    Terry shrugged, feeling a bit inadequate for the role¡ªeven if he¡¯d chosen it. ¡°You¡¯re the experts, I¡¯m just the guy providing the warehouse,¡± he said with a wave toward the space. ¡°Whatever you think is best works for me.¡±

    Flore nodded approvingly, clearly ready to take orders, but pleased that Terry had the good sense to let them do what they did best.

    ¡°Alright, then,¡± she said, assuming command easily. ¡°Let¡¯s start by getting those racks built.¡± She indicated a space nearby. ¡°Let¡¯s start there. It¡¯s close enough to the office to be visible, but not so close¡ª¡±

    She cut off as Peter cleared his throat. The plant-whisperer¡ªas Flore had described him¡ªhadn¡¯t so much as uttered a word since they¡¯d met, so Terry was just as surprised at the others when he interrupted the woman.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°But maybe we should pick a team name first?¡± He looked around shyly, his eyes never lingering on any one face for long. ¡°Every superhero team needs a name.¡±

    Vladimir rolled his eyes, but the others took on an air of excitement.

    ¡°He¡¯s right!¡± Tristan added. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of a superhero team without a name!¡±

    ¡°Duh!¡± Alan punched the boy lightly in the arm. ¡°How could you have heard of them if they didn¡¯t have a name?¡±

    Tristan took on a quizzical expression, like his brain was working overtime to connect the logical dots of that statement. After a moment, he nodded with a vibrant expression, snapping his fingers toward Alan.

    ¡°Hey, that actually makes sense! Then we definitely need a name!¡±

    Silver chuckled behind Terry, but that didn¡¯t dampen their enthusiasm in the slightest. Vladimir, on the other hand, took the opportunity to rain on their parade.

    ¡°We¡¯re not a superhero team,¡± he said with a harsh tone. ¡°We¡¯re just a bunch of glorified farmers.¡± He turned away dismissively and began unpacking the nearest crate with force.

    The mood seemed to deflate, but that had been the first sign of enthusiasm amongst the group since he¡¯d met them. Vladimir had taken it, but Terry wanted it back.

    ¡°I agree with Peter,¡± he said, forcing some cheer into his voice. ¡°We need a name. Who¡¯s got suggestions?¡± He looked between the five of them, ignoring Vladimir who continued to unpack his crate.

    Peter, Alan, Tristan, Flore, and Katie shared quizzical looks, each of them seemingly waiting for the others to go first.

    Tristan, in his youthful enthusiasm, took up the gauntlet.

    ¡°How about Team Grower?¡± He cast a lecherous look around the group. ¡°You know, grower, not show-er? Cause we¡¯re growing things. It¡¯s a play on words¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Katie said with furrowed brow. ¡°What¡¯s a show-er?¡±

    Alan laughed into his fist, while Peter looked off in embarrassment. Tristan, on the other hand, seemed to have no shame.

    ¡°You know, Katie, like some guys are show-ers and some are growers¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a penis joke and a bad one at that,¡± Vladimir replied. He dumped a pile of metal rack pieces on the floor with a loud clang. ¡°Will you grow up, Tristan? We¡¯re in a supervillain¡¯s kingdom, taking orders from his grandson, with an S-ranked Duelist ensuring our good behavior. Your infantile humor is going to get you killed one day¡ªand probably sooner rather than later.¡±

    Terry whirled on him, his face burning with heat. ¡°As your bad attitude will for you. If you¡¯re gonna just shit on everyone and everything, go be by yourself.¡±

    Vladimir eyed him with undisguised hate, his dark eyes narrowing as they burrowed into Terry. Then, they traced up toward where Silver stood with crossed arms and his face smoothed, like a switch had been flipped. ¡°Whatever you say¡­boss.¡± He bent over, stacking a pile of metal rack pieces into his arms before marching away.

    Terry watched him start assembling the pieces out of earshot, wondering if he could have done anything different to have made an ally of the man. Flore stepped forward, her voice low.

    ¡°He¡¯s not used to taking orders,¡± she explained softly. ¡°He¡¯s an exiled noble¡ªa prince himself, once upon a time¡ªand he¡¯s been having a tough time adjusting to life as a super for hire.¡±

    That piece of the puzzle did help him make a bit more sense of the man. But still, the guy was a dick.

    ¡°Thanks for the context,¡± he said, keeping his tone easy. ¡°Truth is, I¡¯m making this up as I go. I know I shouldn¡¯t say that, but it¡¯s true. I¡­could really use your help with the others.¡±

    Her eyes went wide with surprise, quickly replaced with a thoughtful expression. ¡°You know, you¡¯re not what I expected,¡± she said after a moment.

    Now, it was Terry¡¯s turn to be surprised. ¡°Oh? What did you expect?¡±

    She shrugged, a wry smile on her face. Then, she looked around to see if Vladimir was paying attention; he was angrily slamming pieces of rack together, creating a racket that echoed throughout the warehouse. She subtly nodded back toward the man. ¡°That. I was expecting something more like that.¡±

    Terry snorted, enjoying the feeling that he¡¯d won her over¡ªat least a little bit.

    ¡°I could see why you¡¯d think that. Fact is, I¡¯m sure the Emperor would prefer if I acted more like him.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But this is who I am. Just a kid doing the best he can with the privilege he¡¯s got.¡±

    She nodded, her eyes lingering on Silver for a moment, who simply flashed her a friendly smile. She returned it¡ªa bit hesitantly, but all the same, a smile was a smile. He could see the path forward, a way to chip at their understandable trepidation to form the nucleus of a team that could do real good.

    Sure, they wouldn¡¯t be saving cats from trees, apprehending bank robbers, or fighting off supervillains. But that didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t make a difference.

    Katie, the nutrient specialist, called out to gather their attention.

    ¡°Flore, Pri¡ªer, Terry. What do you think about¡­Wichita Farming Force?¡± The four of them looked expectantly toward Flore and Terry, as if they¡¯d come to some agreement.

    For Terry¡¯s part, he found the name uninspiring and a bit clich¨¦. But he didn¡¯t really care either way, so long as the team was happy¡ªwell, as many of them as could be happy, considering Vladimir was still hate-building a rack in the distance.

    Thankfully, Flore had a bit more aesthetic sense than her team.

    ¡°Um, great idea, but maybe we can keep brainstorming?¡± she suggested gently.

    Alan visibly deflated¡ªclearly the name had been his contribution¡ªbut the others shrugged and continued on, throwing about increasingly bizarre names that had Terry cringing.

    He pulled up his Quest while they debated, examining the details, feeling the deadline that seemed far away, but was really incredibly close considering the timelines of farming.

    His eyes locked on that Quest name, a flash of intuition striking him.

    ¡°Hey, guys?¡± he called out. They turned in obvious surprise, waiting expectantly for him to speak. He took a steadying breath, eyeing them all with serious intent. ¡°How about¡­Feed Wichita?¡±

 Chapter 44: Bad at Goodbyes

    Alan and Peter shared a shrug¡ªnot exactly a wild endorsement, but they weren¡¯t shutting it down either. Katie was mouthing the name over and over again, as if repeating it in her head to see how she liked the sound.

    Tristan, on the other hand, immediately took on a disappointed expression.

    ¡°Feed Wichita? That¡­that doesn¡¯t follow any of the common naming conventions I¡¯ve ever heard of! It doesn¡¯t have Team or Force in it¡­or anything! Not even a ¡®The¡¯ in the front to provide some gravitas. What about Operation Feed Wichita? Oh, oh, oh! The Feed Wichita Experience¡ªno, The Feed Wichita Operation!¡± He looked around with a pleased smile that quickly turned down in a frown.

    ¡°It¡¯s too wordy,¡± Katie replied. ¡°I kinda like just Feed Wichita.¡±

    Flore nodded, turning to Terry. ¡°It¡¯s perfect.¡±

    He felt a flush of pride. Even though he didn¡¯t truly care what they called themselves, considering they were supposed to remain a secret, he still was pleased to see that the others were starting to agree with each other.

    Except Tristan, whose face was turning red with indignation.

    ¡°But it completely bucks fifty years of tradition. No, more! Even pre-Call comic books and superhero shows understood the value of injecting some oomph into their team names!¡±

    ¡°What about Batman and Robin?¡± Alan fired back. ¡°They didn¡¯t even have a team name!¡±

    Tristan waved away the comment dismissively. ¡°Batman was in the Justice League. That was his team.¡± His eyes widened. ¡°Oooh, league is a powerful one. The League for Feeding Wichita.¡± He shook his head, discarding it immediately. ¡°The Feed Wichita Project? No, the Supers Against Starving Wichita¡­ns? Wichitans? Wichitians? Wiches? Wichitanese? What¡¯s the word¡ª¡±

    ¡°I think Feed Wichita is perfect,¡± Flore said gently, affecting a soft smile to ease Tristan¡¯s resigned look. ¡°It encapsulates our mission and takes the focus off us. We¡¯re not doing this for us, remember? This isn¡¯t to be famous or have our names known¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to be famous,¡± Alan interrupted, looking around. He adopted a sheepish look as Katie glared at him. ¡°What? I do¡­¡±

    ¡°Sorry, everyone,¡± Terry said. ¡°But this needs to be a secret. No one can know what we¡¯re doing or they¡¯ll storm the warehouse and clean us out.¡±

    Alan and Tristan shared a dejected look, obviously disappointed at the news. Flore, however, pursed her lips thoughtfully.

    ¡°What about the Emperor?¡± she asked, unable to hide the worry on her face.

    How do I navigate this? If I tell them the Emperor isn¡¯t in on this, they might get cold feet. I have to lie, he realized.

    His palms slicked with sweat, his heart suddenly racing. ¡°The Emperor¡­¡± He trailed off, his thoughts jumbled, hitting dead ends as he tried to come up with a convincing lie.

    Silver spoke up from behind him. ¡°I¡¯ll be reporting directly to the Emperor.¡±

    Terry turned in surprise, mouthing a quick thank you before looking back to gauge if they believed the lie. Flore seemed to accept it, nodding slowly. Tristan just looked dejected, like he was disappointed he couldn¡¯t meet the Emperor. Alan and Peter were the exact opposite, sharing a relieved glance.

    Across the warehouse, Vladimir paused in building the metal racks, his ears perked up. He cast narrowed eyes over, then quickly looked away when Terry met his gaze.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­probably for the best,¡± Flore eventually said. She looked around, taking in the others. ¡°Feed Wichita, then?¡±

    Tristan opened his mouth to interject, but Silver cut across him.

    ¡°The prince has a pressing appointment and needs to be going.¡±

    Flore nodded toward the S-ranker, then put her hand forward.

    ¡°Feed Wichita on three?¡± Her tone was hopeful, but her neck flushed with obvious embarrassment.

    Alan and Peter exchanged a skeptical look, so Terry reached forward, placing his hand on top of hers.

    ¡°Feed Wichita on three,¡± he confirmed.

    She flashed him a thankful smile. Katie shrugged, stepping forward to put her hand on top of Terry¡¯s. The three of them looked expectantly toward Peter, Alan, and Tristan. Alan chuckled at the silliness of it, joining his hand with theirs. Peter followed suit, his large hand eclipsing those beneath.

    Tristan eyed the pile of hands wearily, letting the moment draw out for a handful of beats. Then, Silver let out a low growl and the boy¡¯s face blanched. In a rush, he stepped forward, his small hand pressed on top of Peter¡¯s.

    The pile of hands poised there for a moment, then Flore looked to Terry expectantly. It took him a moment to realize she was waiting for him to lead them.

    ¡°Feed Wichita on Three,¡± Terry said. ¡°One, two, three!¡±

    Their timing was out of sync, the cadence off-kilter, but their voices echoed loudly across the warehouse.

    ¡°Feed Wichita!¡±

    Vladimir glanced over, a shocked expression on his face, quickly replaced with a scowl. He shook his head and turned away, slamming more metal pieces together in an obvious attempt to detract from the moment.

    But none of them paid him a moment¡¯s attention as the six of them devolved into embarrassed laughs. Terry looked over to see Silver hiding a rueful smile, arching a single brow.

    ¡°You ready?¡± he asked.

    Terry nodded, looking back toward Flore. ¡°Can you get things rolling while I¡¯m gone?¡±

    She nodded confidently. ¡°Can do, Terry.¡±

    He turned back to Silver. ¡°Ready when you are.¡±

    His grandpa¡¯s aura shifted, reaching out to encompass Terry. That gut-wrenching sensation that he was starting to become familiar with ripped at his insides. He suppressed his Analysis Skill as it tickled at the back of his mind, focusing simply on bracing himself.

    But he couldn¡¯t help but notice the differences in the way Silver¡¯s teleport worked compared to what he¡¯d picked up from Marlon. There was no finesse to it, nor a science. It was as if his grandpa simply projected his will on to the very fabric of space and though space fought back, it couldn¡¯t win.

    In comparison to Marlon¡¯s exacting method that had resulted in an Upgradeable Skill, Silver¡¯s seemed based on pure power. Which did make a sort of sense, since the man was simply using his connection with the Singularity to mimic a Traveler¡¯s power rather than the real thing. All the same, Terry wondered what his grandpa could achieve if he employed some of the principles Marlon had imparted.

    That line of thought was interrupted as Terry¡¯s new location came into focus. The air wasn¡¯t as dusty as he remembered, though the linen sheets had been thrown back over the furniture and the drapes were pulled tight once more.

    It felt strange to see Silver in his father¡¯s room¡ªlike a clash of two worlds. Though, now that he spotted his father reclining on the sole uncovered couch, that clash was replaced with a feeling of safety and familiarity.

    James was half-risen from his seat in surprise, his face easing a moment later when he recognized them.

    ¡°By the Underworld, Silver. Give a man some warning before you do that!¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    James scoffed. ¡°You certainly did not.¡±

    Silver shrugged half-heartedly. ¡°Said we were on our way, didn¡¯t I?¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Terry¡¯s father rolled his eyes before rising. He eyed Terry with a cryptic look for a moment, then his lips set. ¡°Will you excuse us?¡± His eyes cut back, filled with a serious intent.

    Silver looked between the two of them, seeming to sense the unsaid words between father and son. Something Terry now knew he was intimately familiar with.

    ¡°Of course,¡± he replied. ¡°Take your time. I have some catching up to do with T-Bone.¡± He flashed a wink toward Terry, who couldn¡¯t suppress the answering grin on his face. Then, space screamed as it was rent from the inside out and Silver was gone a moment later.

    Leaving father and son and the looming guillotine that they both knew was inevitable.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing your father is sending you to Topeka now?¡± Terry offered, studying the carpet to avoid the reaction he knew must be playing there.

    A moment turned into three, and Terry eventually glanced up to see his father¡¯s back facing him, his hand propped against the couch¡¯s armrest.

    The imagery struck him so powerfully, the memory of that moment six months past in his bedroom, his father openly weeping, propped against his desk as his body trembled. His hand reaching out to comfort the man, but never quite making it; the shock too large for a younger Terry to bridge that divide.

    But he wasn¡¯t that boy anymore. He was still a boy. Still inexperienced. Still naive. Still out of his depth in almost every way. Still no closer to finding the truth of his mother¡¯s disappearance.

    But he wasn¡¯t that boy. Not anymore.

    He quick-stepped forward, placing a trembling hand on his father¡¯s shoulder. A choking cry shuddered from the man. Flipping around, Terry saw the tears threatening to break free. James threw his arms around him suddenly, wrapping him up in a grip tight enough to shock his senses.

    His body stiffened on instinct, then loosened, seemingly one muscle at a time, until he felt as if he were melting into his father¡¯s embrace.

    ¡°I love you, son.¡± James voice was low, shaky with emotion. ¡°But if I don¡¯t go, Topeka falls. And with it, Wichita.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡± He managed to fight the words through a tight throat. ¡°I understand.¡±

    He didn¡¯t want to say them; he wanted to beg his father to stay, continue repairing what had only just begun to mend. Maybe the younger Terry would have. But this Terry understood better than maybe even his father what was at stake.

    He hadn¡¯t required further motivation, but if growing his new indoor farm helped speed up his father¡¯s return, then that was just one more reason to make sure Feed Wichita was a success.

    Their embrace lasted a few more beats before James pulled back, his hands on Terry¡¯s arms.

    ¡°You¡¯ve grown so much from the Terry I remember. I¡¯m proud of you, son.¡± His chin dipped, his eyes boring into Terry¡¯s. ¡°I want you to know that. I respect how you¡¯ve begun to forge your own path.¡± A soft half-smile touched his lips. ¡°And I can¡¯t wait to see what you accomplish with your powers.¡±

    Terry returned his smile, a slight flush of embarrassment touching his cheeks. ¡°Thanks, dad.¡± Then something about his father¡¯s words struck him. ¡°Speaking of powers¡­we never did get to do another body tempering session.¡± A touch of disappointment tinged his father¡¯s face. ¡°I know you¡¯re leaving soon, but I need to keep getting stronger. I¡­¡± He looked off, hating that he couldn¡¯t lay everything at his father¡¯s feet¡ªthe Quests, the terrifying Waker that was his System, the three paths he¡¯d been forced to choose from, and so much more. But the truth of it struck him in that moment. He had been called on to do good¡ªno, more than that. He felt compelled to do good and in order to do that, he needed to become powerful. He needed to become strong enough to fight the draugr¡¯s, the War Crimes, the Dancers of the world. And in order to do that, his body needed to become strong. Filled with the realization of that purpose, his eyes cut back¡ªand for once, he had no trouble looking his father steadily and directly in the eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to become powerful. Not for me, but for the powerless. I refuse to stand by in the face of evil, dad. Which means I need to be strong like you, Whipvine¡­like Silver.¡±

    His heart was beating rapidly and he didn¡¯t know why. Maybe he feared his father wouldn¡¯t approve, would try to hold him back or delay his growth. And for a moment, the look of trepidation on his father¡¯s face convinced him his fears were grounded. But then a sad smile marred James¡¯ face and he nodded knowingly.

    ¡°You are your mother¡¯s son.¡± Terry searched for any note of sarcasm, but his father¡¯s tone was more sad than anything. ¡°She also had a compulsion to help others. It was one of the reasons I loved her so much.¡± James pursed his lips in thought, then nodded to himself. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what. I miss my son and I want to spend time with him. Let¡¯s hold off on body tempering for tonight¡ª¡± He held out a hand to forestall Terry¡¯s protest. ¡°¡ªand in the morning, I¡¯ll¡­chat with Silver about helping you through your sessions¡ªif he¡¯s willing, that is.¡±

    Terry¡¯s initial reaction was disappointment. He had already been feeling as if he had lost too much time in upping his Physical Attributes¡ªnot to mention his mastery of his new portal Skill was so lacking as to be useless. But that disappointment melted away as he realized two things. One, he had a confidante in Silver¡ªboth a powerful ally and someone he could trust implicitly.

    But the second thing that struck him¡ªwhat really excited him¡ªwas that he had the rare opportunity to spend time with his father that wasn¡¯t predicated on expanding his powers or delving into the gnawing hole that was his mother¡¯s absence.

    He could actually have quality time with the man.

    ¡°That sounds like a plan, dad. What did you have in mind?¡±

    James actually flushed in apparent nervousness, an abashed smile on his face. ¡°Well, I-I was thinking we could play some boardgames, maybe paint some of your figurines together. Wh-whatever you wanted, really.¡±

    Terry¡¯s smile stretched ear-to-ear.

    ¡°That actually sounds¡­really nice.¡±

    <hr>

    Space was unyielding here, protected by a Traveler Artifact that locked it down tight.

    Or, it did its best.

    Against the holder of the fully-digested Physical Singularity, Silver simply needed to flex that particular connection to affect the stubborn physics.

    Still, out of politeness, he exited his portal outside the room where he sensed T-Bone, rather than right inside¡ªthough he would have surely enjoyed the look of pure shock and annoyance on his old friend¡¯s face were he to appear directly over his shoulder.

    But somehow, despite what he considered fairly good manners, the two hulking, rot-smelling undead guarding the chamber door seemed less than amicable about his unexpected arrival. As one, they approached with obvious ill will, angling to either side in order to flank. Silver took the much appreciated space they¡¯d granted him, activating Chrono Boost to speed up his perception of time temporarily. Speed was never his problem. His Chronoception Attribute, however, wasn¡¯t high enough to allow him to operate at full capacity safely¡ªnot without his Skill that was.

    Time¡ªwhich was already distorted to his enhanced senses¡ªseemed to slow even further. The shambling patches moved as if in molasses, their large bodies appearing to defy gravity as they prepared to attack.

    Rather than kill another of T-Bone¡¯s powerful thralls, he simply raced past them, opening the chamber doors and slipping through before shutting them. His perception picked up every salient detail of the room in an instant. The circular table in the center, the upholstery of the chairs, the dark murals gracing the walls.

    The five revenants and their master, each reacting to his entry in various ways and on a spectrum of speed that was superhuman, but might as well have been mundane to him.

    T-Bone reacted first, air splitting as his scythe and bone mask materialized from some nearby realm where they were stored when not in use. Whipvine moved next, reacting more to his master¡¯s action than anything, given his back was to the door. Then, the one with the disgusting name and even more disgusting past, War Crimes.

    A whip snapped out toward him, shot out on pure instinct while Whipvine simultaneously flipped out of his chair and onto the table to better face Silver. Thought the whip came in fast and hard, Silver¡¯s Chrono Boost was powerful enough to make even the sound barrier appear slow. He caught the whip in his hand and held fast.

    A fraction of a fraction of a second passed and a bullet left War Crimes pistol and even Silver was impressed with the speed of the man¡¯s draw. Rather than catch the bullet¡ªwhich he suspected he could¡ªhe stepped to the side and held up his hands in peace.

    Whipvine recognized Silver before the Professor or the Iron Maiden could even process what had happened. T-Bone dismissed his scythe and bone mask with a growl. But to Silver¡¯s surprise, another bullet slashed through the air, coming straight for Silver¡¯s head.

    Space screamed for the third time in as many minutes and Silver appeared behind War Crimes, both hands placed menacingly on the revenant¡¯s shoulders.

    ¡°Here I am, boy. You get one more. Three strikes¡ª¡± He squeezed, feeling the bones gnash under his hands. ¡°¡ªand you¡¯re out.¡±

    War Crimes tensed, his finger clutched dangerously tight on the trigger as he considered taking that third shot¡ªonly, this time above and behind him.

    But he couldn¡¯t. Silver¡¯s connection to the Emperor was too strong, too noticeable. His first two shots had been gut reactions from a lifetime of conditioning. The third shot¡ªthe one he was considering now¡ªwas far more premeditated.

    But his compulsion towards the Emperor made it almost impossible to pull the trigger now unless Silver made some further overt action.

    Swallowing a gulp, War Crimes holstered his pistol and looked up to see Silver behind him.

    ¡°Muscle memory,¡± the man said with an abashed grin. ¡°Sorry about that.¡±

    Bullshit, Silver grumbled in his head. But he simply gave the man one more bone-crushing squeeze before letting him go.

    The Iron Maiden was on her feet now, her aura flaring as if rearing to fight. A hand from the Emperor had her settling back into her seat with a frown. The Professor simply shifted her glasses and Silver couldn¡¯t help but feel her subtle probing attempts at his aura. But they were more annoying than dangerous. With a flex of will, he swatted her aura away from his, snapping it back into her person. Her eyes blinked slowly, as if confused about what had happened.

    Only the Hypnotist hadn¡¯t reacted, his aura and body language suggesting that he was not surprised in the least by Silver¡¯s arrival.

    ¡°Gunny, what the hell are you doin¡ª¡± T-Bone cut off as the doors burst open a second time, the patches he¡¯d left behind finally catching up. They paused at the doorway as they saw that no one was fighting, their too-small transplant eyes blinking ponderously. A flash of aura from the Emperor sent them back into the hallway, their auras returning to a placid indifference. He turned back to Silver, his eyes burning green. ¡°Well?¡±

    Silver approached the table as Whipvine hopped down with a chagrined expression and returned to his seat. Seeing no chairs, Silver frowned.

    ¡°One second.¡± The chair beneath War Crimes suddenly seemed to seep into the floor, eliciting a strangled cry from the man as he fell back. A second chair flashed into existence¡ªno, the same chair, portaled from beneath War Crimes¡¯ butt and directly behind Silver. He sat with a contented sigh. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s better.¡±

    War Crimes scowled, his eyes sharp as knives, before smoothing out. He affected a casual shrug and moved to lean against a pillar.

    Silver eyed the man with interest, making a note to find out more about his past. But that would be for later. His eyes flicked back toward T-Bone, the humor draining from his voice suddenly.

    ¡°So¡­how are you planning to handle Dancer?¡±

 Chapter 45: Level Up

    He watched his father¡¯s caravan leave from the palace promenade, his heart aching. It had been a bittersweet night, filled with laughter, tears, and a shouting match over who had won monopoly after a three-hour marathon.

    But despite the pain in his chest, he felt lighter than he had in months. Him and his father had finally drained the poison from their relationship, laying the groundwork for a long-distance healing process that would admittedly take time, but was poised for success.

    Tania stood at his side, turning her body away to hide the tears streaking down her face. He caught glimpses of her hand flashing up to clear the evidence before she turned back as if nothing had happened.

    As for him, there were no more tears to spill. In fact, he was surprised by the fact that he wasn¡¯t even sad. He would miss his father¡ªthat was undeniable¡ªbut the marked improvement in their relationship was too much for him to feel anything but overwhelming joy and contentment.

    What was there to be sad about? His team was assembled, his warehouse farm finally getting off the ground. He had portal magic waiting to be explored, an E-Grade Skill that he would catalog with a few days of work, and Physical Attributes ready to push into the next stage. Though his father was disappearing into the distance, the yawning void that had once existed between them now felt filled with love and understanding.

    The only thing that ate at him, the one aching pain he couldn¡¯t shake no matter how strong or skilled he became, was the question of his mother.

    But even that problem had a clear path to a solution; he simply had to find and decode her roses. Perhaps his catharsis wasn¡¯t around the corner, perhaps it was even months or years away. He would learn patience¡ªhad to. If he remained patient, diligent in his cataloging, and stayed true to his Quests, eventually he would learn the truth.

    These thoughts steadied him as his father disappeared into the distance and a soft smile touched his lips.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Tania whispered, leaning into him.

    He glanced down at her, his smile widening.

    ¡°I am. For the first time in a long time, I feel¡­okay.¡± He felt the pull of his magic, the sensation that with a twist of his aura, he could part space. The power of that potential thrilled him. His eyes traced up to the horizon, feeling the limitless possibilities at his fingertips. ¡°I¡¯m more than okay, I think.¡±

    He felt her eyes on him and he looked back down. She was searching his face, her brow furrowed¡ªperhaps unconsciously.

    ¡°What?¡± he prompted, lightly bumping her arm. ¡°You look like I just told you I¡¯m about to jump over this railing.¡±

    She snorted, looking off. ¡°I¡¯ve half a mind to throw you over myself.¡±

    He didn¡¯t take her words to heart, recognizing something churning underneath the surface of her brash exterior. Rather than fill the silence, he waited for her to say what she was really thinking. He could see her chewing her inner cheek, her jaw muscles clenching and unclenching fitfully. After a handful of seconds, she looked up at him.

    ¡°It¡¯s just not fair.¡± Her tone was all fire. ¡°You just get your dad back and before you even blink, he¡¯s gone again.¡± Softer, laced with pain now. ¡°He should¡¯ve fought harder to stay.¡±

    Terry settled back, everything making sense. She was projecting, in a way. Her parents were gone by no choice of their own, dead and buried after saving her life. While Terry¡¯s parents had both seemingly made a conscious choice to leave him. He had come to terms with his father¡¯s reasoning¡ªWichita¡¯s people hung in the balance. And though he didn¡¯t understand what had happened to his mother, he wasn¡¯t willing to write her off without all the facts.

    His reconciliation with this must have seemed so alien to Tania, too understanding, perhaps.

    ¡°Tania.¡± She looked away and he knew she was fighting back more tears. ¡°Hey, come on, now.¡± He put an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in tight. ¡°We¡¯ve got each other, yeah?¡± She glanced up at him, rolling her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡± He gave her a light hip bump, which she returned twice as hard. With a laugh, he shook his head. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go. I have something I want to show you.¡±

    Her head cut back toward him, but he purposefully ignored her questioning look, turning to leave the promenade. Crunch was waiting by the palace entrance and Terry waved toward the ghoul.

    ¡°Prince okay?¡±

    He nodded, affecting a smile. ¡°I¡¯m good, Crunch. You okay?¡±

    Crunch¡¯s single eye blinked a few times, a look of confusion perhaps. ¡°Prince okay, Crunch okay.¡±

    Terry slapped the ghoul¡¯s shoulder and turned to see Tania following with a confused look. ¡°Both of you come with me. I have a little secret I want to share.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°What in the Underworld.¡±

    Tania gasped as they entered the warehouse. Dalton had dropped them off a few blocks away at Terry¡¯s behest and the three of them had entered from the side door. Crunch remained stoic at his side, but Tania was twirling in a quick circles, taking in the wide open space with a disbelieving expression.

    She did another spin, then whirled on Terry.

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    Terry laughed at her open-mouthed surprise. ¡°This? This is my hydroponic farm.¡± He looked over to where Flore and her people were hard at work. ¡°And there¡¯s my team.¡±

    ¡°Wha-how?¡±

    Before he could answer, Flore noticed them and her eyes lit up. She signaled the others and they all glanced over with various expressions. Despite his open smile and easy demeanor, he couldn¡¯t help but notice some of them cast Crunch terrified looks.

    ¡°Hey all, come meet my friends,¡± Terry called out.

    They approached cautiously, clearly waiting for Flore to take the lead. Vladimir was behind a set of racks and Terry noticed him watching through the metal girders.

    ¡°You, too, Vladimir.¡± Terry tried to keep his tone light¡ªless commanding and more invitational. The man hesitated a moment, then put down the tools in his hand and approached.

    Flore cast Tania and Crunch a friendly smile. ¡°Hi, Terry. Who are your friends?¡±

    ¡°Crunch here has been my shadow for pretty much my whole life.¡± He couldn¡¯t miss the wary glances the others cast the ghoul. His melted over eye and missing arm cast a terrifying visage he was sure. But the ghoul would win them over in time. It was Tania¡¯s prickly nature that concerned him more. ¡°And this is Tania. She¡¯s a friend. She lives in the palace.¡±

    Flore¡¯s smile was in sharp contrast to Tania¡¯s skeptical look. ¡°Nice to meet you both! I¡¯m Flore!¡± She indicated the others, pointing to each of them in turn. ¡°This is Alan, Peter, Katie, Vlad, and Tristan.¡± Most of them waved shyly, though Vladimir just crossed his arms and set his lips. She turned back to Terry. ¡°Are they joining the team?¡±

    Tania cut across his forming reply. ¡°Team?¡± Her gaze flicked across them before turning back to Terry. ¡°What team? What is this, Terry?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just what I said, Tania. This is a farm. Our mission and our name is Feed Wichita.¡± He waved toward the six Elementalists. ¡°These are all specialists in light, plants, earth, or water. Silver helped me gather them and together we¡¯re going to feed the city.¡±

    She wrinkled her nose, obviously not quite buying the situation. Before she could speak though, Crunch¡¯s grating voice echoed.

    ¡°Honorable. Wichita is hungry.¡± He turned toward Terry, his eye piercing. ¡°Crunch is proud, my prince.¡±

    An embarrassed smile touched his lips. ¡°Thanks, Crunch. But it¡¯ll have to be a team effort. I don¡¯t know much about farming, so I¡¯ll have to lean on the team for that¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll say,¡± Tania interrupted. She waved a hand to encompass the space. ¡°How long have you been at this? There¡¯s no water system installed, rafters for lamps, a processing space, filtration system, or any of the basic infrastructure you¡¯ll need to feed an entire city.¡± She nodded toward the Elementalists. ¡°And where will they be sleeping, hm? How about a break room? Meals? Have you formed a shift sheet yet?¡±

    The more Tania talked, the more shocked Terry became, his mouth hanging open.

    ¡°Well?¡± she asked sternly when he didn¡¯t answer immediately.

    ¡°Uh, no, actually, I haven¡¯t, uh¡ª¡±

    She nodded stiffly. ¡°Okay, thank the Emperor you brought me in. I¡¯ll help get you started¡ª¡± She held up a finger in front of his face. ¡°¡ªbut you¡¯re gonna learn logistics if it¡¯s the last thing you do.¡±

    Flore snorted humorously and Tania turned to regard her with arched brow. She held up her hands under Tania¡¯s piercing stare.

    ¡°Hey, keep doing your thing. I was gonna ask the prince much of the same. Was just waiting until things had settled a bit first.¡±

    Tania shook her head, her lips pursed tight. ¡°Planning isn¡¯t Terry¡¯s strong suit,¡± she said definitively. Her face softened a bit and she bit her lip. ¡°Shoot, I¡¯m sorry, Terry. I didn¡¯t mean to take over like an ass. If you want me to step back¡ª¡±

    Terry shook his head violently. ¡°No! Please, help me! I¡¯m completely out of my depth.¡±

    Vladimir scoffed at that, drawing Tania¡¯s dark gaze like a crashing whip.

    ¡°Oh, and who are you, mister dark and brooding. Hm? Come on, step forward, show some balls.¡±

    A condescending smirk crossed his face and he pushed past Tristan to approach Tania. Terry felt Crunch¡¯s aura ask a question and he sent back a negative reply.

    Ripping out the spine of their strongest Earth Elementalist on day two wasn¡¯t exactly a formula for success¡­

    ¡°I am Vladimir Petronovich. But all you need know is I am a C-ranked Elementalist.¡± His chin reached up as he looked down on Tania. ¡°From your aura, I determine you are¡ª¡±

    Tania cut across him with a dismissive wave. ¡°Yeah, yeah, settle down sparky. Nobody cares. All we care about is what you can do. Okay, give me your names once more, followed by your specialty.¡± She pointed toward Flore. ¡°Flore, right? What¡¯s your¡ª¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Aura flexed among the group and Terry startled as the floor began to tremble. A quick opening of his senses led back to Vladimir and he felt his breath catch.

    ¡°How dare you disrespect me!¡± the man cried out. ¡°You are nothing to me! I could bury you in a mile of stone while you wept for your mother!¡±

    Crunch tensed at Terry¡¯s side, preparing to lunge, his bone-claws extended like daggers. But as he prepared to leap, Tania put a hand on his arm, her expression unconcerned.

    ¡°My mother¡¯s dead. So¡¯s my father.¡± She eyed him casually. ¡°Just as you¡¯re about to be if you don¡¯t smarten up. Release your magic or my undead friend here will fillet you like this morning¡¯s catch of the day.¡±

    Terry marveled at her steady tone, the steely look in her eyes. He turned back to Vlad to gauge the man¡¯s reaction. He too appeared shocked by the girl¡¯s words, his eyes flicking toward Crunch, his mouth trembling as if he were looking for the proper response.

    Tania didn¡¯t give him the respite he needed to think. She stepped forward until she was right before him, her posture rigid and controlled.

    ¡°I said drop your magic. Now.¡± Vladimir glared down at her, his aura still flexing around them. Without looking back, Tania addressed Crunch. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t release his magic in three seconds, please deal with him.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Tania.¡± Crunch¡¯s voice was like two blades clashing, the impending violence palpable.

    Tania arched her brow expectantly, her arms crossed, patient, unyielding.

    Vladimir spluttered, his face contorting in rage.

    ¡°Three. Two¡­¡±

    He growled in defiance, his eyes boring into her.

    ¡°One¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fine!¡± The aura seeped back into his being, recalled in an instant. Before anyone could speak, he turned his back and marched off.

    Tania watched him go with pursed lips, then turned to the other Elementalists.

    ¡°He always wound so tight?¡± she asked, her tone slightly mocking.

    The group shared a nervous chuckle; they¡¯d felt the power brewing beneath their feet. Vladimir was the strongest among them besides Flore and they clearly didn¡¯t have any intention of challenging that fact.

    Flore clicked her tongue in displeasure, turning toward Terry.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the best way to handle him. He doesn¡¯t respond well to being forced into submission.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t disagree, but the man had pushed the limits multiple times now. Before he could come to Tania¡¯s defense, she was shaking her head.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re right. He won¡¯t respond well to anything.¡± She turned toward Terry. ¡°We should cut him loose if we can. He¡¯ll just start trouble and Crunch won¡¯t always be here.¡±

    ¡°I can manage him,¡± Flore said. ¡°But we shouldn¡¯t push him like that unless we want trouble.¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t gonna get walked over here neither,¡± Tania shot back. ¡°He wants to try and flex on me, he better be the strongest person in the room, ya hear?¡±

    Flore sighed, watching Vladimir in the distance. ¡°I hear you. Let¡¯s just¡­try not to antagonize him. Please?¡±

    Tania¡¯s tone softened and she cast Terry a regretful look. ¡°Ain¡¯t gonna pick no fights neither.¡±

    He looked between Flore, Tania, the others, and forced on a cheer he didn¡¯t feel.

    ¡°Come on, guys. Let¡¯s not get down. Looks like we just acquired our new logistics manager.¡± He indicated Tania with a nod. ¡°She¡¯s a go-getter, so rest assured you¡¯re in good hands.¡±

    ¡°What about you, Pri¡ªer, Terry?¡± Alan asked.

    ¡°Me? I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m useless when it comes to this stuff. I¡¯ll be in the office practicing my Skills. But come find me if there¡¯s anything you need that Tania can¡¯t help with.¡±

    She cast him an annoyed look. ¡°Excuse me? When did I sign up as office manager, hm?¡±

    Terry gave her a chagrined smile. ¡°I mean, I could do it. But you¡¯re just so much more qualified and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Save the shit.¡± She rolled her eyes and cracked her neck. ¡°Go, then. I¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re in good hands.¡±

    Before he could respond, she was already indicating the others and demanding their powersets. Terry hesitated a moment, wondering if he should give any parting words, but Tania was already full steam ahead. Flore gave him a soft shrug, which he returned with a smile.

    Crunch followed him toward the office and his aura preceded him. He¡¯d taken to questing his aura around himself when he moved, using it like a sixth sense to feel around corners, identify other¡¯s emotions, and just improve his use of it overall.

    Still, he hadn¡¯t expected the notification that rolled into view as he crested the stairs leading up to the office.

    Aura Projection: E6 ¡ú E7

    Aura Control: E7

    Aura Perception: E8

    Presence Average: E7

    He paused, his foot stopped in midair.

    ¡°My prince?¡± Crunch asked softly.

    ¡°Nothing.¡± Then louder. ¡°Nothing, Crunch. Just an aura thing.¡±

    I can¡¯t believe it. Just exercising my aura has me leveling it up.

    He was marveling at that fact, his attention pulled to the notification as he opened the office door. So he didn¡¯t notice Silver lounging back on the couch at first. It was Crunch¡¯s subtle twitching of his aura that pulled Terry¡¯s eyes up.

    ¡°Hey, kid.¡± Silver sat up, a soft smile on his face. ¡°Heard your dad left already.¡±

    The reality of that statement would have rattled him earlier, sent him into a sad place that he would have been forced to crawl out of. But now, it was just a fact he had to deal with.

    ¡°Yeah, he did. It¡¯s what¡¯s best for Wichita.¡±

    Silver nodded slowly. ¡°That¡¯s a very mature outlook.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Is what it is, you know? We lose Topeka and all of this is for nothing. People will be starving before we even get off the ground floor.¡±

    ¡°Very true,¡± Silver said. The corner of his lip turned up coyly. ¡°So¡­interested in picking up where we left off?¡±

    Terry tilted his head in surprise. He¡¯d been distracted enough not to be constantly thinking about hitting the E-rank. But he couldn¡¯t say it wasn¡¯t near the top of his list either.

    ¡°I would love to, but¡­you sure you have the time?¡±

    Silver chuckled. ¡°For my only grandson? If I ain¡¯t got time for you, then who do I got time for?¡± He stood up, approaching Terry and Crunch. ¡°Plus, I want you stronger. I¡¯ll have to come and go, and knowing you¡¯re just that much stronger will help put me at ease a bit.¡±

    Terry considered that point. Hitting the E-grade, being able to move metal with his aura, expanding on his portal Skill¡ªit was all so much to do and yet¡­there was also so much potential, too.

    ¡°Hell yeah, let¡¯s do it then!¡±

    <hr>

    Days went by and without his father around, he quickly discovered that other than Crunch, Silver, and Whipvine, there weren¡¯t many people concerned with his day-to-day affairs. So long as he hit his daily physical training with Whipvine, no one bothered him about where he was or what he was doing.

    There was the looming session with the Iron Maiden next week, but even that didn¡¯t trouble him much.

    He was able to pit his entire focus on solving Silver¡¯s Metal Telekinesis Skill, running his mind over the dizzying layers until he was dreaming about them in the scant few hours his grandpa forced him to sleep.

    On the fifth day after his Awakening, it all clicked into place, the complicated symbols of his grandpa¡¯s genetic material slotting into the Skill¡¯s mold with practiced ease.

    Genetic-Metaphysical component cataloged¡­

    New Skill Cataloged: Metal Telekinesis (E)

    Error. No appropriate Affixation slots available.

    Quest Complete: [Assimilate Powers]

    Catalog and assimilate an E-grade or higher Skill

    Reward: E-rank

    E-rank achieved! Status Sheet updated!

    He was practically holding his breath as the notifications rolled in. With a thought, he opened his Status Sheet, focusing only on the parts that had changed since he last looked, including the Physical gains he¡¯d acquired from body tempering with Silver when he was taking a mental break from cataloging.

    <u>Status Sheet</u>

    <u> </u>

    <u>Class</u>

    Alterant (F ¡ú E)

    <u>Skills</u>

    Metaphysical Analysis (F ¡ú E)

    Genetic Analysis (F ¡ú E)

    Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (F ¡ú E)

    <u>Affixation Slots</u>

    Slots: 1 ¡ú 2 (F)

    Slot 1: High-Efficiency Matter Transportation

    Slot 2: Free

    Slots: 1 (E)

    Slot 1: Free

    <u>Attribute Ranks</u>

    Physical Average: F4 ¡ú F5

    Strength: F4 ¡ú F5

    Speed: F5

    Toughness: F4 ¡ú F6

    Perception: F3 ¡ú F5

    Presence Average: E7 ¡ú E8

    Aura Projection: E7 ¡ú E8

    Aura Control: E7 ¡ú E8

    Aura Perception: E8

    Mental Average: F1 ¡ú F2

    Chronoception: F1 ¡ú F2

    Visual Processing: F1 ¡ú F3

    Auditory Processing: F1 ¡ú F2

    <u>Public Information</u>

    Name: Terry

    Class: Alterant (Hidden)

    Overall Rank: F ¡ú E (Hidden)

    Attribute Ranks: (Hidden)

    He didn¡¯t feel a rush of power enter his body or some demarcation to indicate that he¡¯d just ranked up. But he did feel the Affixation slots that came with the E-rank and he marveled at the sensation.

    His portal Skill had shifted, focusing down into his left hand, creating a miniature form of the aura Affixation there. With a flex of that particular section of aura, he could feel his control over space and manipulate it with just his hand. His other hand felt bare, like a blank slate ready to be written upon.

    And somehow, he knew that the center of his being, the bulk of his aura, was reserved for that E-grade Skill. The more he focused on it, the more clear the arrangement became.

    My aura isn¡¯t enough to accommodate all three slots across my entire body. The System arranged my hands for the F-grade Skills and the rest of my aura for the much more intensive E-grade Skill.

    ¡°You did it, didn¡¯t you?¡± Silver asked beside him on the couch. ¡°Your aura feels different¡ªsharper, more refined.¡±

    A big grin filled Terry¡¯s face. ¡°I did it.¡±

    Silver¡¯s own matching smile formed. ¡°Well, don¡¯t leave me hanging, kid! Let¡¯s see what you can do!¡±

    He focused his intent on his cataloged Skills, feeling the configuration of their specific auras like a template in his mind.

    Affixation available. Affix?

    He confirmed the prompt with a thought and a jolt of electricity coursed through his body. His aura shifted and bucked and twisted against his will, causing a burning pain that sucked the breath from him. Arching his back, he let out a wordless cry, the pain flashing nearly as bright as when he had done his first body tempering session.

    Then, only a few minutes later, it was done. He felt the change in his aura, subtle, but powerful. He looked over to see Silver¡¯s eyes narrowed in concern. Smiling, he stretched his muscles and focused his mind. With a thought, his aura reached out and snatched the metal pen from the desk. The effort to lift it was easier than he had thought and he zipped it through the air like a hummingbird. But as it reached across the room, the strain grew to match the distance. He brought it back with a full-throated laugh, reveling in the newfound power.

    ¡°It¡¯s intoxicating, isn¡¯t it?¡± Silver asked.

    Terry didn¡¯t respond right away; there was something niggling at the back of his mind, some untapped potential waiting to be unleashed. With a concentration of will, he split his attention, lifting his left hand to coax space apart. Slowly, gently, a gap appeared, followed shortly by a second portal across the room. Keeping his attention tight, he angled the pen with his mind, throwing it across open air until it flew into the first portal. The pull on his aura intensified as the mass entered, then released once it exited out of the second portal.

    The pen crashed against the far wall, transporting thirty feet across the room in a blink.

    Silver¡¯s eyes were wide, staring at the still open portals, then down where the pen lay inert against the floor.

    ¡°Oh, hell, son. You¡¯re going to be a goddamned force of nature.¡±

    Terry could only laugh, reveling in the power and potential.

    There was so much to learn, so much I still needed to explore. But the future looked bright, my power growing steadily. And the possibilities¡­well, they appeared endless.

    End of Part Two

 Chapter 46: What Goes Bump in the Night

    Part Three: The Mystery of the White Rose

    8 Months Later¡­

    The fog was light tonight, but that did little to put the man at ease as he came upon the murder scene.

    He¡¯d been forced to park his car a block down, the press of bodies blocking the streets too difficult to traverse in the dark. Which annoyed him, because he hated walking. Even when food had been plentiful, even with the hundred pounds he¡¯d dropped in the last twelve months, there was nothing appealing about being forced on foot.

    Worse than that, he knew exactly what he was walking in to and it was a shit show of epic proportions.

    A voice called out, echoing through the fog.

    ¡°Detective Kramer? That you?¡±

    He growled to himself, his annoyance cresting.

    The pressing civilians turned to look. Voices accosted him.

    ¡°Detective! Was it the vampires?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t anyone gonna stop them!¡±

    ¡°The bloodsuckers are taking over this city! Are we even safe in Wichita anymore?¡±

    He made a mental note to rip the beat cop a new one.

    ¡°Step aside, folks.¡± He avoided their questing gazes, bulling through the crowd. ¡°Police business, move aside.¡±

    Despite the heavy press, the faces gazing back at him were gaunt, emaciated. He shoved through them roughly, his bulk¡ªhowever diminished it was¡ªmore than enough for the task.

    When he reached the caution tape marking the scene, he glared at the patrolman. At least he had the good sense to look abashed.

    ¡°Sorry, detective.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you yelling out my name for, kid? Trying to start a riot?¡± The officer looked down, biting his lip. Kramer sighed, catching a glimpse of the scene over the patrolman¡¯s shoulder. ¡°York, was it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    He nodded back over his shoulder. ¡°Push out this scene another twenty yards.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± He waved over more men and hopped to it.

    As Kramer crouched under the tape, he called out to Officer York¡¯s back. ¡°And get me my lampers!¡± To himself, he added, ¡°Gonna be a long night.¡±

    The detective approached the scene, noting the surroundings with a casual glance.

    Dark alley, streetlights long shattered, garbage stacked high enough to obscure the view from the street.

    And behind the debris, a beautiful young woman, shredded and bloody, bits of flesh appearing to have been cut off¡ªperhaps eaten.

    ¡°Ah, Kramer, thank the Emperor. This is a cluster of epic proportions.¡±

    He looked up from the girl to see his lieutenant, a wad of gum smacking between his lips.

    ¡°Hey, Lieutenant. What¡¯ve we got?¡±

    Lieutenant Alvarez blew a bubble, popping it with irreverence as he leaned down over the body.

    ¡°Mid-twenties, Caucasian, filleted and evidence of premortem blood loss.¡± He shook his head, looking behind Kramer discreetly. ¡°Ghoulies or the suckers, my guess.¡±

    Kramer grunted. ¡°Or someone wants us to think so, at least.¡±

    Alvarez¡¯s chewing intensified and he stood up. ¡°What¡¯d you need from me?¡±

    The detective put on latex gloves and knelt by the body. He didn¡¯t know why¡ªnobody was fingerprinting anymore. They¡¯d fallen out of the habit when their D-ranked Seer had joined the city forces. But Tunnel Vision had disappeared three months back and the force hadn¡¯t responded well. Now, it was down to good ol¡¯ detective work.

    Or, more likely, murders just remained unsolved. It was hard to find the motivation when your stomach panged through the night¡ªand mostly through the day, too.

    He glanced up, his nose wrinkling at the smell.

    ¡°Priority?¡± It was a tasteless question, crass and completely inappropriate. But no one cared about decorum anymore. Class was a luxury for the full-bellied.

    The lieutenant shrugged, a casual gesture belaying the seriousness of the topic.

    ¡°No rumblings from above either way. Which is odd.¡±

    Kramer nodded. That was odd. A young, cute thing like this could only serve two purposes. One, a rallying cry to distract the hungry with anger. Or two¡­she was a message.

    He dismissed the first option instantly; if she were meant to be a distraction, word would¡¯ve come down to prioritize the case. Reporters would have been slipped beneath the caution tape. Headlines would¡¯ve already been written¡ªthe articles, too.

    Silence from the leadership meant option two. Her murder was a message to someone.

    What Kramer wanted to know was, a message to whom?

    He stood up with a grunt, his knees cracking painfully. ¡°Lampers to start.¡± The lieutenant nodded; that was an easy enough request. His next, however¡­ ¡°A writ of passage into Blood Alley would be nice, too.¡±

    The lieutenant snorted, not even wasting his breath to curse the man out.

    Yeah, knew that was coming, but had to ask.

    ¡°I already sent for the boys.¡± The lieutenant spit his gum out against the alley wall. ¡°There¡¯s something else.¡±

    Kramer didn¡¯t like that tone; the lieutenant wasn¡¯t one to worry.

    ¡°What is it, LT?¡±

    The man pulled out a pocket knife and crouched down. Grabbing the girl¡¯s arm, he angled the blade down into the skin. Kramer watched on, first, in confusion, then in dismay.

    The blade didn¡¯t depress the skin at first. More weight went behind the blade before it began to make headway. The lieutenant grunted as it finally penetrated her flesh, then looked up with arched brow, the conclusion unsaid.

    Kramer looked up at the night sky, letting out a weary breath. ¡°Fuuuuuck.¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, she¡¯s a Duelist.¡± The lieutenant wiped the blade on her clothes before depositing it back into his pocket. ¡°F or E¡­maybe. If not¡­we¡¯re looking at a C-ranker, minimum. Possibly even B¡­¡±

    God-fucking-dammit¡­

    ¡°Alright, alright. Affiliation?¡± A thought struck Kramer and he blanched. ¡°Topeka?¡±

    The lieutenant shook his head. ¡°Doubtful. If she were Topekan, you and I wouldn¡¯t be here.¡±

    Kramer nodded. A Topekan spy would¡¯ve been way above their paygrade.

    ¡°Shit!¡± He walked to the alley edge, scanning the nearby block. Police spotlights fought against the dark, but most of the block was obscured. People milled about with little lights on their shoulders or clipped to their bags, but flashlights were in short supply in Wichita.

    Then, his eyes caught on light emanating from a building a few blocks down, yellow streams of illumination peeking from the windows. He narrowed his eyes skeptically, but turned back to address the lieutenant.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    His foot scuffed against something and he glanced down. In the light of the flood lamps, powder caught his eye. He leaned down, touching it, rubbing it between his fingers. Bringing it to his tongue, he tasted it delicately.

    ¡°What is it, Kramer?¡±

    His heart rate was jacked, a foreboding feeling tickling at the back of his neck. Rather than answer, he approached casually, holding out his hand.

    ¡°Can I have a piece of that gum?¡±

    The lieutenant frowned, but didn¡¯t push. As he handed out a stick of gum, their hands brushed together, the coarse grains of salt passing between them. Kramer watched as the man¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, his neck twitching as he prevented himself from looking around suspiciously.

    Kramer cleared his throat to distract from the man¡¯s shock, then bent back over the body. Now that he knew what to look for, the signs of scattered salt were everywhere.

    All his theories dashed to the floor, the hairs on his neck standing up straight. They didn¡¯t need to speak¡ªthey¡¯d already drawn the same conclusion.

    Someone had taken efforts to hide the crime from the Emperor¡¯s wraiths. Salt. I¡¯m sure there was obscuring magic involved as well.

    Meaning, his theory that the Emperor had assassinated a hostile super was wrong¡­dead wrong. But this wasn¡¯t a Topekan attack or one of the Emperor¡¯s revenants would have been here. The blood suckers? But why hide it from the Emperor, then? They were vassals to the leader of Wichita, weren¡¯t they? Or, at a minimum, honored guests.

    Why hide this murder from their host, when all their other killings were executed with impunity.

    And killing a potential B-ranker? Who was this dead super to them?

    They couldn¡¯t share their doubts or questions openly; the chances of a nearby super or blood sucker listening in from superhuman distances were nearly guaranteed. Being too competent and asking the right questions out loud had its dangers.

    He stood and locked eyes with the lieutenant, neither of them daring to speak about the revelation. After a moment, the silence grew too heavy and the LT barked out toward the alley mouth.

    ¡°Where are my damn lampers!¡±

    The sound of quiet swearing and running feet answered, followed shortly after by three young men carrying precious Artifacts that shined bright. One of them flicked up, blinding Kramer.

    He growled, advancing on the boys. They took a step back and the light flicked down quickly.

    ¡°Point that in my eyes again and I¡¯ll feed it to you. Clear?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, sir!¡±

    He studied their faces with a frown. They looked everywhere but at him, their limbs trembling in the light cast from their lamps. Clicking his tongue, he turned back to the corpse.

    ¡°What¡¯re you waiting for?¡± he barked. ¡°Illuminate the damn crime scene.¡±

    The three boys hastily moved past him, shining their magic lights in three separate directions.

    As he approached the lieutenant, Kramer sighed. ¡°They gettin¡¯ younger or am I gettin¡¯ older?¡± he groused.

    He glanced over to see the three boys hurriedly look away as his attention fell upon them.

    ¡°It¡¯s a resourcing issue.¡± The lieutenant snagged another piece of gum and popped it into his mouth. ¡°Ghoulies ate the last batch.¡± He blew a bubble and let it snap against his lips. ¡°And the suckers before that.¡±

    Kramer watched the three boys carefully as the lieutenant wound them up. Which of the three held his nerve? They were each seventeen, maybe eighteen. One had pimples marring his face. The other with long hair pulled back into a ponytail. The third boy was small, not quite fitting into his frame; signs of a nutrient-deficient diet at the most critical stage of growth. Only the little one didn¡¯t glance back at the alley mouth as if looking to escape.

    He and the lieutenant shared a glance, spotting the same thing.

    ¡°How long you think these¡¯ll last?¡± Kramer snapped his fingers, then pointed at the woman¡¯s face to see which of the lampers reacted first.

    That little one¡¯s got nerve, he thought as the runt reacted instantly. His artifact lit up the girl¡¯s face, highlighting her features.

    She was beautiful, even in death. Strawberry blond hair, high cheekbones, full lips slightly parted, and a model-esque jawline.

    The runt gasped, then quickly clamped his mouth shut, steeling his face.

    ¡°What?¡± Kramer growled. ¡°Never seen a woman before, lampy?¡±

    The boy stared back, a hint of defiance in his eyes. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir, what? What¡¯s got you interrupting my thoughts while I¡¯m working a crime scene, hm?¡±

    He cleared his throat, his eyes snapping to the lieutenant for the briefest moment and finding no ally there. ¡°I recognize her, sir, is all.¡±

    Kramer¡¯s eyes widened and he glanced over to see the lieutenant¡¯s lips pursed tight.

    Shit, cat¡¯s out of the bag on this one, then.

    ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there holding your dick. Spill.¡±

    The runt squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. ¡°Fluorescent. B-Ranked Elementalist hailing from Richmond. She fled the authorities four years back when she accidentally blinded a dozen civilians fighting a villain. Been on the run ever since.¡±

    Kramer hawked a wad of spit and launched it near the other two lampers¡¯ feet. They both jumped back but didn¡¯t say a word.

    ¡°And how the fuck you know all that, runt?¡±

    The little one narrowed his eyes at the name, but otherwise didn¡¯t let his anger show.

    Good, Kramer thought. This one¡¯s worth keeping on.

    ¡°I know this, sir, because she hands out food ten blocks west every Sunday.¡± Kramer shot the lieutenant a wide-eyed glance. The runt continued as if he hadn¡¯t noticed the look. ¡°I know this, because I snapped a picture of her and ran an image search two months ago. Her HeroWatch entry popped up immediately.¡±

    Kramer raised his eyebrows toward the lieutenant, who returned a short nod.

    ¡°You two, fuck off.¡± He waved away pimple-face and pony tail. ¡°Turn in your lamps by end of day.¡±

    All three boys grew wide eyed, but Kramer ignored the reactions.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name, runt?¡±

    ¡°Marcos, sir.¡±

    ¡°Marcos, flash your lamp on this scene and tell me what you see.¡±

    The Artifact turned toward Fluorescent¡¯s body as the boy bent down to take a closer look. The other two lampers were stuck frozen with shock.

    Kramer turned to regard them, his face shadowing with anger.

    ¡°Should we add insubordination on top of incompetence, hm? If you¡¯re still standing there by the time I finish this sentence¡ª¡±

    They bolted out of the alley, their Artifacts swinging wildly, casting odd shadows as they ran. Kramer noted Marcos glance up briefly and he growled back at the boy.

    ¡°Time¡¯s up! You have ten seconds to impress me or you¡¯ll be turning in your lamp with them.¡±

    Most young men would have frozen in analysis paralysis or stuttered out incoherently as their minds lost the threads in a panic. But Marcos continued surveying the scene silently, demonstrating an admirable calm and precision as his lamp took in both the alley and the body.

    Five seconds later, he spoke, a thoughtful look on his face.

    ¡°A dead B-ranker in Wichita can only mean a few things. Topekan, SPC, or one of the Emperor¡¯s agents.¡±

    Kramer sighed in disappointment. For a moment there, he¡¯d thought he¡¯d found a diamond in the¡ª

    ¡°But that¡¯s not the case here.¡± Marcos collected some of the salt lining the alley floor. ¡°Salt means one of Wichita¡¯s enemies were involved. Topekan or SPC, then.¡± The boy frowned, hesitation on his lips for the first time. ¡°Except, it wasn¡¯t either of them.¡±

    Kramer didn¡¯t let the smile touch his face, but he spotted the lieutenant¡¯s out of the corner of his eye.

    ¡°What an idiot conclusion.¡± Kramer forced heat into his voice. ¡°Of course this was one of our enemies, you fool.¡± He paused a moment, wondering how the boy would react to being called out, even when correct. To his credit, Marco simply stared back. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll bite.¡±

    The boy pointed at the alley floor, his lamp tracing splatters of blood.

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t killed here. Obvious signs that she was dumped. Furthermore, the modality of her death is ambiguous. Half-hearted gnaw marks here, here, and here.¡± He lifted the body slightly, shining the lamp so Kramer could see. ¡°Ah, as I suspected. They ignored the haunches.¡± He eased the body back. ¡°Ghouls prefer thigh and butt meat. If this were them, she¡¯d be filleted down to the bone. And the blood loss.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Someone started to feed, but pulled themselves back. I¡¯d guess they were instructed to stage this like a rotter did it, but couldn¡¯t resist a taste.¡± Marcos stood up, angling his lamp away. ¡°Then, there¡¯s you and the lieutenant, sir.¡±

    Kramer had followed everything the boy had said, pleased to recognize formal training in the lad. But now he felt lost for the first time.

    ¡°What about us, runt?¡±

    Marcos frowned, looking between the two of them as if deciding what to say. After a moment, he shrugged.

    ¡°Apologies, sir. But if you and the lieutenant are the highest ranking members on the scene¡­then this wasn¡¯t Topekan or SPC. If it were, I suspect none of us would be allowed within a hundred yards and this alley would be swarming with ghouls and revenants as we speak.¡±

    Kramer felt the lieutenant¡¯s eyes on him, waiting for him to congratulate the boy, tell him he¡¯d passed with flying marks. And the detective had to admit, he was impressed with the runt. But something about the lad told him there was more water to be squeezed from the stone.

    ¡°Ridiculous presumptions built upon faulty premises. But okay, I¡¯m listening. If it wasn¡¯t hungry ghoulies, the Emperor himself, Topekan spies, or the SPC, then who killed this young lady?¡±

    The lieutenant took a hasty step forward, a protest on his lips. But Kramer flashed him a subtle signal and his boss trusted him enough not to press. As for the boy, he couldn¡¯t have missed the interaction and should have finally understood what this was.

    If he didn¡¯t recognize he was being tested yet, then he had already failed. But there were tests, and there were tests within tests. This, was the latter.

    The boy took a moment to think and Kramer allowed it. After five steady breaths, he nodded. Kramer expected him to break the silence, but instead, he pulled a notepad and pen from his pocket¡ªa notepad very similar to Kramer¡¯s own.

    Then, he began to write in it.

    Kramer and the lieutenant shared a cryptic look, but then stared wide eyed as the boy hefted the notepad for them to read.

    <blockquote>

    Vampires. Listening. Body moved¡­sending message to someone. Emperor, maybe. Unclear. Going to lie now to throw them off.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°My guess¡­is that there are factions within the Emperor¡¯s inner court. His revenants fighting each other in the shadows, perhaps. Maybe Prince James is pulling the strings from Topeka.¡± Marcos shrugged. ¡°Not enough information to make a determination.¡±

    Kramer allowed a tight smile on his face, flicking his brow up once in acknowledgment of the boy¡¯s cunning.

    ¡°I see I¡¯ve made a mistake with you.¡± Kramer laced his voice with fire. ¡°But since I¡¯ve sent off the others, guess I¡¯m stuck carting around a dumb ass. You can at least point a lamp, yes?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± Marcos kept his triumphant smile brief, steeling his face in moments.

    Kramer grunted in faux annoyance. ¡°It¡¯ll have to do.¡± He turned to the lieutenant and nodded in Marcos¡¯ direction. ¡°Sure we don¡¯t have anyone smarter?¡±

    The lieutenant¡¯s eyes twinkled at their double talk, a slight smile of his own lighting up briefly before he shoved it back down. ¡°Can¡¯t fill out another requisition unless this one dies.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be a problem¡ªnot for long, anyway.¡± He snapped another bubble with his gum. ¡°Try to make him last the week, though. If possible.¡±

    Kramer groaned. ¡°Tall ask.¡± Turning to Marcos, he grunted. ¡°Come on. Keep that lamp pointed at the ground unless I tell you otherwise. Clear?¡±

    Marcos nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Yes, sir!¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡± He went to the alley, his eyes tracking to that lone building down the way, its yellow lights streaming out onto the road. ¡°Might as well ask the neighbors what they saw.¡±

 Chapter 47: The Break Room

    As the two of them neared the building, sounds and movement became clear. Shouts echoed down the street and Kramer fingered his pistol in its holster. Movement snaked in the dark, bodies flashing into view as they passed before the lit up windows.

    But it only took him a moment to recognize the sounds as that of laughter. Another moment to see the bodies in the dark were actually people queuing in line at the front door.

    When he made the connection, he faltered, coming to a stop.

    ¡°What the fuck,¡± he muttered to himself.

    Marcos stopped at his side, his lamp pointed down. ¡°It¡¯s the prince¡¯s club, sir.¡±

    Kramer shot his gaze down to the boy in surprise. ¡°Club? Prince James?¡±

    The boy shook his head, his brow climbing as he recognized Kramer¡¯s confusion. ¡°No, sir. Prince Terry. It¡¯s invite only, they say. But I¡¯ve heard he sometimes hands out fresh fruit or veggies if you wait outside long enough.¡±

    Prince Terry¡­what in the Underworld was he doing this far from the palace? In a club, nonetheless. Did the Emperor know? He must¡­

    ¡°Does everyone know the prince is involved in this¡­club?¡±

    Marcos shrugged a shoulder. ¡°Anyone who¡¯s lived on the streets? Sure. The uptown pricks¡ª¡± He cut off, realizing who he was insulting. ¡°Sorry, sir. Uptown folks, maybe not.¡±

    Kramer let the comment go, too shocked by the revelation to care. But it did place the location and circumstances of this woman¡¯s body in a new light. There was a non-zero chance that the prince was responsible. No matter how incompetent it would seem to dump a body near your establishment, Kramer had seen worse examples of criminality. Fifteen-year-old boys weren¡¯t exactly known for their tact or cunning. Incompetence was always a strong possibility¡ªin any crime.

    But the more likely scenario, the one speaking to his gut, was that this dead supe was a message to the princeling. His job was to determine the connection between this Fluorescent and the prince.

    There were ways of approaching a suspect¡ªtried and true. But royalty was another beast entirely. One didn¡¯t simply strong-arm the grandson of the local dictator.

    ¡°What do you know about the prince?¡±

    Marcos started at his side, clearly not expecting the question.

    ¡°Only what I¡¯ve heard from others.¡±

    Kramer growled in annoyance, not looking at the boy. ¡°Don¡¯t hedge now. Spit it out. I¡¯d rather you say something dumb than walk on eggshells.¡±

    He felt the kid glance up at him, a clear hesitation on his lips. Didn¡¯t blame the boy; speaking out of turn was dangerous on the streets. Better to keep your opinions to yourself than invite reprisal.

    After a few moments, Marcos spoke.

    ¡°They say he¡¯s a modern day Robin Hood.¡± The boy sounded skeptical. ¡°He¡¯s generous with food and money. Feeds the alley rats and the street urchins.¡±

    ¡°But¡­?¡±

    Marcos shrugged, spitting to the side, then flashing a look up like he¡¯d forgotten who he was with. ¡°Sorry, sir.¡±

    Kramer waved it away. ¡°Go on.¡±

    The boy sniffed, then shook his head. ¡°Too good to be true, in my opinion.¡±

    ¡°To what end?¡± Kramer asked. ¡°Building a campaign, but for what? Supplant his father as next in line?¡±

    Marcos snorted derisively, loosening up once he realized Kramer wouldn¡¯t hit or chide him for every little thing. ¡°Campaign? Not likely. The Emperor will outlive them all. There¡¯s nothing to be gained by vying for control of Wichita.¡± He looked around, taking in the night sky, the pungent fog. ¡°Who would fight over this?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t fault the boy, though Kramer remembered a time before the war, before the fog and eternal night, much better than Marcos.

    ¡°What¡¯s your conclusion, then?¡±

    Marcos¡¯ eyes shaded and he looked around subtly before pulling out his notepad. The detective waited patiently as the boy wrote down a single word in blocky print.

    <blockquote>

    QUEST

    </blockquote>

    That stunned Kramer for a moment. How in the Underworld had this boy come to the same conclusion so quickly?

    He reached out, snagged the notepad, tore out the piece of paper, ripped it into ten pieces, then shoved them into his pocket. Marcos¡¯ eyes went wide at the display for the briefest moment. Then, he smoothed his features back into place. The detective handed back the notepad, nodding once.

    Rubbing at his face, he eyed the crowd lined up outside the building ahead. A feeling was brewing in his gut, that sixth sense that hit him sometimes when he reached an inflection point. He was walking into something much bigger than himself; the moment to turn back was now.

    ¡°When you stare into the abyss, sometimes, the abyss stares back.¡±

    The words left his mouth on instinct¡ªsomething his mentor had told him twenty years ago when they¡¯d been investigating a super-related murder. He¡¯d always interpreted the saying to mean you become what you experience. Mire yourself in murder, deceit, violence, sexual assaults, and your own morality can only be tainted as a result. But his mentor, years later, had explained his own interpretation.

    ¡°The abyss is the yawning void of what we cannot understand. By seeking to do so, the unknowable likewise begins to know us. Enter the realm beyond our own ken with eyes wide open¡­for you enter the den of monsters weaponless and impotent.¡±

    Load of shit, he¡¯d thought at the time. Flowery speak for entering the boxing ring fighting ten weight classes up. The monsters were the supers of the world¡ªthe Fairways, their minions, and their enemies. Make yourself known to those entities, and it wasn¡¯t a matter of if, but when, they took you out of the picture. But the sentiment held true; getting involved with this murder could only lead to trouble for him. His eyes were open, though. Had been for decades. He stared into the abyss, waiting for the dagger to come in the night.

    But the boy didn¡¯t understand what he was walking into. On a bad day, Kramer might not have offered the kid an alternative; there was something about the runt and this particular case, that caused him to speak up.

    ¡°What are you saying, sir?¡±

    Kramer sighed, pausing before they entered the sphere of noise and light surrounding the building.

    ¡°What I¡¯m saying is: now¡¯s the time to back out. I can¡¯t guarantee your safety past this point.¡±

    To the boy¡¯s credit, he didn¡¯t bluster or answer instinctively. He paused, a thoughtful look on his face as he seemed to carefully consider what the detective was saying. After a full ten-count, he spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to be involved, sir. I¡­I think I can be of some assistance.¡± He hesitated, looking at the ground for a moment before glancing back up. ¡°And¡­I really hate unsolved mysteries.¡±

    Kramer chuckled, slapping the kid on the back.

    ¡°Me too, boy.¡± He eyed the club entrance, noting the heavyset bouncer at the front, and the silhouettes barely visible on the roof above. ¡°Me too¡­¡± He eased his jacket out of the way, clearing access to his holster. ¡°Follow my lead. Don¡¯t speak unless spoken to.¡±

    He didn¡¯t wait for the boy to answer. Approaching the front of the line, he pulled out his badge and held it up for the bouncer to see. Those waiting in line shouted complaints, but Kramer didn¡¯t miss his stride as he went to push past the bouncer. The large man hesitated and that was all the opening Kramer needed. Before he could react, the detective and the boy were past and into the raucous club.

    Though, club wasn¡¯t quite the word he would have used.

    Tables were spread out across a large open room, groups of five or six seated¡ªor in some cases, standing with animated expressions¡ªas they¡­

    ¡°Are they playing board games?¡± Kramer had to shout to be heard over the cacophony of the room. When he looked down at Marcos, the boy¡¯s eyes were wide, an unconscious smile on his lips, as if he¡¯d found the promise land.

    There was no time to dawdle. The bouncer was inside now, scanning for them. Kramer tugged the boy¡¯s elbow, pulling him away from where he was enraptured standing over a table.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Look alive, boy,¡± he growled. ¡°Need you on your toes.¡±

    Marcos¡¯ eyes focused and he nodded once. They slithered between the crowds of onlookers, making their way to a bar against the back wall. He settled in to order a drink, when his eyes caught on the menu.

    With a groan, he knuckled at his eye socket. ¡°What kind of nerd kingdom did I just enter?¡±

    There was nothing alcoholic. Juice, sodas, caffeine-infused drinks of every flavor¡­.but no goddamn liquor. Not even beer.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it awesome!¡± Marcos was sitting on a stool with his back to the bar, his eyes trailing over the room. ¡°They¡¯re playing DnD over there. And that looks like Axis and Allies at that table. Oh, oh, is that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Marcos.¡± His voice was low, his eyes catching on the corner of the room. A simple cloth divider hung on a door¡¯s threshold, hiding what lay beyond. But as a waiter pulled it aside to enter, Kramer caught a glimpse into the next room.

    To the boy¡¯s credit, he snapped out of his excitement in an instant, his gaze flicking over to spot the same thing Kramer did.

    ¡°That¡¯s the prince!¡± he hissed.

    That was Kramer¡¯s suspicion as well, but it was good to have confirmation. Beyond the cloth divider, a teenage boy sat at a private table, his eyes closed while all around him people shouted and slammed dominoes to the tabletop. Then, his eyes tracked up to the creature standing behind the boy.

    ¡°He¡¯s got a ghoul with him.¡± Kramer turned to Marcos to make sure the implication stuck.

    The boy¡¯s eyes widened, then narrowed. ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡±

    Kramer shook his head. ¡°Doubtful. You don¡¯t dump a body a few doors down from your own establishment.¡± He continued watching that cloth divider, catching subtle glimpses as the cloth swayed back and forth. The prince¡¯s eyes snapped open and Kramer flicked his eyes away.

    Had he been looking at us¡­?

    When he slowly pulled his gaze back to that private room, movement milled behind the cloth and Kramer cursed.

    ¡°Should we go?¡± Marcos was half off his stool, recognizing that movement for what it was.

    ¡°No point, boy. Ghoulie could run us down whenever it wanted.¡± He shook his head, standing to adjust his jacket and smooth out the wrinkles on his shirt. ¡°No. I think we¡¯re about to have an audience with royalty.¡±

    <hr>

    Terry fingered the rose in his hands, tucking it away before addressing Burg.

    ¡°Detective Kramer, I recognize. But who¡¯s that with him?¡±

    The others continued their game of dominoes, slamming pieces down with oomph and shouts of triumph. Alan and Tristan were the loudest, while Katie and Peter slid their dominoes out quietly, ignoring the shouts of their opponents.

    ¡°The detective called him Marcos. Lamper, if I had to guess.¡±

    Terry snorted. Lampers. As if the sanguine would announce themselves before attacking. Though the Artifacts known as lamps were powerful, even they couldn¡¯t be on all the time. But he shouldn¡¯t judge them for their caution. He understood why a normie might need a token of comfort in this dark and bloody world.

    ¡°Send them in. Let them know they¡¯re not in danger.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my prince.¡±

    Terry stood from the table, cracking his back with a sigh. He had been analyzing the white rose for six hours now¡ªa moderate session, but even superhuman physicality got weary from inactivity.

    ¡°Where you going, Terry?¡± Katie didn¡¯t look up from her dominoes right away, but then glanced up when he didn¡¯t answer.

    I have a feeling something terrible happened, he didn¡¯t say.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind me, just a business meeting.¡± He forced a smile on, flashing her a wink. ¡°Smash them while I¡¯m gone, yeah?¡±

    Alan and Tristan shouted good-natured protests, but Peter and Katie shared a smile.

    ¡°As my prince commands!¡± Katie shouted, slamming down a domino with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.

    Terry gave them all a smile before picking up his coffee and heading to the booth at the back of the room. Sliding in, he closed his eyes and returned to the analysis of the rose, a strand of his mother¡¯s hair wrapped around his pinkie finger.

    So close¡­so damned close¡­

    ¡°Pardon the interruption, my prince.¡±

    Terry tied off the thread he had been analyzing, storing it in memory so he¡¯d be able to pick it back up later. His eyes opened, taking in the detective and the teenage lamper. The lamper was small¡ªnearly a head shorter than Terry¡ªthough the peach fuzz on his upper lip suggested he was a bit older. Terry examined him first, noting the steady gaze, the straight back. He had nerve, that was for sure.

    Blinking once, he turned his eyes to the detective. He knew of the man¡ªmade it a point to know all the good ones¡­and the bad. But by all accounts, Kramer was the former, though he¡¯d had a few unlucky cases¡ªespecially since the sanguine had arrived. His arrival in the Break Room was a bad sign. Feed Wichita hadn¡¯t been exposed, or it¡¯d be Whipvine or possibly Fletcher standing before him now. But there was no possibility of good news with Kramer¡¯s appearance.

    Opening his senses, he examined the two past their physical appearances. His aura quested out, wrapping around them, examining their inert auras, the emotions rippling there. The lamper was excited more than afraid. His eyes kept flicking back to the main room and he struggled to contain his energy. The detective, however, felt trepidation; not fear, but a definite anxiety.

    Kramer¡¯s aura suddenly shifted under Terry¡¯s presence, a weak flicker into a particular shape. Terry started in surprise.

    The man knew the undead greeting shape.

    ¡°You a Fairway?¡± Terry tried to keep the bemusement from his voice and failed.

    Marcos glanced toward his boss in confusion at the question, then went wide eyed when he realized the man wasn¡¯t denying it.

    Kramer coughed into his fist in a show of embarrassment. ¡°Distant relation. Cousin of a cousin. I think.¡±

    A wry smile touched Terry¡¯s face. ¡°What can I do for you, cousin?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to ask you about a murder that occurred down the street. Last night or early this morning.¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t let his face shift, kept his aura loose¡ªstill wrapped around the two of them. Through it, he felt the expectation of the detective and the careful attention of the lamper.

    They suspect this murder is closely related to me. The sanguine or the Emperor?

    ¡°A murder? Down the street?¡± He shook his head, not exactly feigning surprise¡ªhe wasn¡¯t surprised by the killings anymore¡ªbut giving face to the emotions he had learned to bury deep. Suppressing his natural naivet¨¦ had been one of the first things he had to learn once he had formed the Break Room and Feed Wichita. ¡°I¡¯m an open book, detective. What¡¯d you need?¡± He waved for them to take a chair and they both sat across from him.

    Kramer took it with a sigh, his eyes glancing around the room before settling back on Terry.

    ¡°The victim was found in an alley, three blocks south. Cute, mid-twenties, strawberry blond hair.¡± Kramer¡¯s eyes bored into Terry¡¯s now, but he didn¡¯t let his growing horror show. ¡°We have reason to believe she was killed by¡­¡± He trailed off, glancing around once more, hesitation on his lips.

    Terry understood the unspoken implication. ¡°Burg.¡± The ghoul slipped into sight from the shadows. ¡°Can you tell the others to form a perimeter.¡± He glanced back toward the detective, then said the rest silently, flicking his aura out in a complicated series of patterns that he was sure Kramer felt, but couldn¡¯t decipher.

    No supers or sanguine in earshot. This is a delicate matter.

    Burg shaped his aura in the affirmative, then loped out the back door. Terry heard him clamber up the side of the building, felt him give orders to his brothers with his aura. The three of them sat in silence for a few moments until Terry felt Burg settle into a waiting stance on the roof.

    Terry turned back to the detective.

    ¡°You can speak freely. No one can hear us now.¡±

    Kramer chewed his lip, while the lamper¡¯s eyes flicked to where Burg had left. After a moment, the detective spoke.

    ¡°It was the suckers, most likely.¡±

    Terry settled back against his booth, nodding wearily.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been growing bolder, that¡¯s undeniable. But the location. You think it¡¯s meant as a message for me, don¡¯t you?¡±

    The detective nodded. ¡°Not just the location. She¡¯s a supe.¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t react, his face set in stone, his heart rate steady and unaltered. But in his mind, behind the facade he¡¯d learned to cultivate, despair crashed on him.

    Flore¡­those bastards!

    ¡°What makes you think that?¡± He kept his tone casual, interested rather than the ravenous need he was feeling internally. ¡°Was she wearing a costume?¡±

    The detective shook his head and Terry let himself feel a flicker of hope. Maybe it wasn¡¯t Flore? It wouldn¡¯t make it any better if it was some other poor innocent. But her powers were the lynch pin of Feed Wichita. More than that, she was the team leader. Without her, their plants would be starved of light, while the team members would lose hope.

    ¡°No costume, my prince.¡± He looked over at the lamper pointedly.

    The teenager started as he realized both of them were staring. He cleared his throat, his voice trembling slightly.

    ¡°Uh, my prince, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Terry, please.¡±

    Marcos looked to his boss, who nodded subtly.

    ¡°Uh, Pr¡ªuh, Terry. I recognized her.¡±

    Terry could see the lamper fighting against the anxiety, also recognizing the way he¡¯d trained himself not to stand out, to avoid the attention of those that could crush him with ease.

    A street boy, Terry guessed. Smart and capable, clearly. The anxiety is clouding his thoughts though.

    ¡°Please, no need to be anxious. Marcos, was it?¡±

    His eyes went wide, no doubt wondering how Terry could possibly know that when neither of them had introduced themselves.

    ¡°Yes, Pr¡ªTerry.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve heard stories of me, I¡¯m guessing?¡± Terry kept his voice soft, as if he were approaching a skittish animal. ¡°Have you heard of me disappearing anyone or hurting them in anyway?¡±

    Marcos bit his lip, turning toward the detective before glancing back.

    ¡°No¡­Terry. I¡¯ve only heard good things¡­.¡±

    The way he trailed off was subtle, but Terry could hear the hesitation in his voice, feel the doubt in his aura.

    ¡°But?¡±

    Marcos sighed, lifted his chin and met Terry¡¯s eyes. ¡°In my experience, people who work so hard to seem good, usually aren¡¯t.¡±

    The detective went wide eyed, then his face set in obvious fury. Before he could scold the lamper, Terry held up his hand.

    ¡°Please, detective. I¡¯m not offended in the slightest.¡± Terry thought back to his once-idol, the super admired across the fractured city-states of America and the world. ¡°He¡¯s right to be suspicious. I¡¯ve rarely met one of my heroes and come away anything but disappointed.¡± He met Marcos¡¯ eyes with a wry smile. ¡°Not that I¡¯m a hero to anyone. Simply to say, I understand the sentiment.¡± Terry felt the detective¡¯s aura relax, pleased the man wouldn¡¯t hold a grudge against his charge¡¯s impudence. He sighed, bringing the conversation back on topic. ¡°You recognized the victim, then?¡±

    Marcos nodded, a soft look settling on his face. ¡°Yes, sir. She would hand out food to us¡ªto the slum kids.¡± Terry¡¯s stomach flipped, the truth finally unavoidable. ¡°Her supe name was Fluorescent.¡±

    Nobody spoke for a handful of breaths and Marcos continued glancing between Terry and the detective. Eventually, it was Kramer that broke the silence.

    ¡°You know her, then?¡±

    Terry rubbed at his chin, sighing heavily. ¡°I know her, yes. She¡­¡± He considered giving them nothing more; he would get to the bottom of this regardless. But he liked the two of them and stranger than that, he trusted them. ¡°She was part of my team.¡±

    Marcos frowned. ¡°But she was a B-ranker,¡± he blurted. He realized a moment later and clamped his mouth shut.

    Terry smiled, though he felt no mirth at the moment. ¡°Yes. And?¡±

    ¡°Just¡­never heard of a B-ranker joining an E-ranker¡¯s team.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know my rank?¡±

    Kramer shot Marcos a look. The lamper glanced to the table, realizing he¡¯d been speaking more than the detective.

    Terry didn¡¯t mind the lamper¡¯s enthusiasm and let out a small chuckle. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m an E-ranker. But I¡¯m also a prince, for whatever that¡¯s worth. And it should be no surprise that I have high-ranking backers, given my ancestry.¡±

    ¡°Forgive him, my prince, he didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±

    Terry waved away the detective¡¯s concern. ¡°Please, detective. You think I care about formality or the like? Look where we are.¡± He indicated the Break Room with a nod. ¡°I actually prefer his straight forwardness, to be honest.¡±

    He leaned forward now, letting them feel the anger he¡¯d been hiding under the surface.

    ¡°But don¡¯t let my casual nature fool you. Flore was one of mine. She had my protection. If the sanguine murdered her, left her to send a message to me.¡± He felt his aura tremble and was forced to rein it in. Images of teleporting into Blood Alley and slamming metal rods into vampire hearts filled his mind. ¡°Then I¡¯m going to get to the bottom of it.¡±

 Chapter 48: The Iron Maiden

    When the detective and his lamper left the Break Room, Terry found himself trembling in the booth. A cold anger washed over him as he imagined Flore¡¯s desecrated body.

    ¡°Damn you.¡± He slammed his fist on the table. ¡°Damn you all.¡±

    The rest of the team were watching him and he had to remind himself of his role. Being a leader meant they followed his cues. Forcing in three deep breaths, he stood from the booth.

    ¡°Burg, have the detective and the lamper guarded.¡± He said it to the open air, relying on the ghoul¡¯s heightened hearing to pick up the command. The shift in Burg¡¯s aura was all the acknowledgment he needed. Turning back to his team arrayed around the table, he sighed.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Katie braved the question, though he noted the trepidation on each of their faces.

    He approached the table, taking in their expressions and their auras. Longing, fear, worry, all intermingled in a melting pot of emotion that would have overwhelmed him in the past. But now, he pushed his own fury down, letting ice course through his veins.

    ¡°Flore is dead.¡±

    Alan and Peter shared a horrified look. Katie gasped, looking at the others in shock. Only Tristan seemed too stunned to react.

    Terry didn¡¯t fill the silence, letting them each process the news in their own way. It was her apprentice¡ªTristan¡ªwho spoke first.

    ¡°No she¡¯s not.¡± It was a declaration, his tone flat¡ªno anger there.

    Terry eyed Tristan, seeing the willful defiance of youthful surety. He¡¯d felt the same when his father had first told him of his mother¡¯s death. Denial was natural.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tristan. She is.¡±

    He shook his head, pushing his chair back with a clatter.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t funny, Terry.¡±

    He didn¡¯t interrupt the outburst, knowing it needed to run its course.

    ¡°Flore was a B-ranker! No one could touch her in Wichita¡­¡± He trailed off, drawing the only natural conclusions.

    Except the sanguine or¡­Terry¡¯s family.

    Tristan¡¯s eyes went wide as he backed away from the table. Terry wanted to assure him that his family wasn¡¯t involved, but he couldn¡¯t. For all he knew, they had been.

    ¡°Listen to me, all of you.¡± He held Tristan¡¯s gaze, then turned to the others. ¡°I¡¯m going to get to the bottom of this. I swear it.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Tristan was nearly shouting. ¡°Ask your grampy over dinner: ¡®Hey, did you murder my friend?¡¯¡±

    ¡°Tristan!¡± Katie hissed.

    Terry held up his hand, locking eyes with the young man.

    ¡°Maybe, Tristan. Maybe. But first¡­I¡¯m gonna pay a visit to Blood Alley.¡±

    Peter went wide eyed, while Katie gasped and Alan chewed his lip. Tristan, on the other hand, took on a determined look.

    ¡°I¡¯m going with you.¡±

    ¡°No, you are not!¡± Katie replied sternly.

    Tristan whirled on her. ¡°You¡¯re not my teacher! Flore wa-was¡ª¡± A choked sob cut him off and he turned his back on them.

    Terry closed the distance, placing a hand on his shoulder. Tristan flinched, glancing back before quickly wiping at his face.

    ¡°I know what Flore meant to you.¡± Terry kept his voice low, only for Tristan. ¡°She was the backbone of this team, but she was more than just that.¡± He turned, raising his voice. ¡°Flore was the light in the dark and they snuffed her out. But they¡¯re not going to get away with it.¡±

    ¡°Even if it was your own family?¡± Tristan¡¯s question was asked quietly, but full of iron.

    Terry matched it, feeling the answer deep within his bones. ¡°Even if it was the Emperor himself.¡±

    <hr>

    Crunch, Burgundy, and Bloodstain flanked Terry as they approached Blood Alley. He could have pulled in more of the ghouls, but didn¡¯t for two reasons.

    One, he didn¡¯t want to antagonize the sanguine by marching an army into their district.

    Two, he would have been forced to ask Whipvine or Mesmer, and that would have led to questions, which would have led to them trying to stop him.

    And that wasn¡¯t happening.

    Even the three ghouls that were his constant shadows weren¡¯t strictly necessary; Terry wasn¡¯t a foreign B-ranker with loose affiliations. He was the Emperor¡¯s grandson and there was no mistaking his identity¡ªnot for beings like the sanguine, whose sense of smell was so powerful, they could probably delineate his entire ancestry.

    No, he should be safe entering their territory uninvited. Should¡­

    Blood Alley had once been a section of train tracks cutting through warehouses and auto shops. Long abandoned, the locomotive artery had become the home of the sanguine. Once upon a time, there had been fine dining only three blocks to the west and the east¡ªdilapidated buildings giving way to the inner suburbia of Wichita.

    But now, the people were under no illusions about their safety around Blood Alley. Enough of them had gone missing that it was clear the sanguine were sating their desires on civilians and the Emperor was doing nothing.

    Despite the lack of people in the surrounding area, the demarcation between the no-man¡¯s zone and Blood Alley was clear as day. The street lights were often smashed all over the city, but once they neared the entrance to the sanguine district, the dark became absolute. Even the stars and moon couldn''t fight their way through the supernatural fog.

    But Terry¡¯s vision was also supernatural now and despite the dark, he could read the markings painted red on the buildings before him. In big, bold letters¡ªpaint or blood, he couldn¡¯t tell¡ªread the words:

    BLOOD ALLEY

    Beneath them, smaller lettering read:

    Food Enter Here

    It was meant to be intimidating, Terry was sure. But it had the opposite effect on him. It was too on the nose, too gauche instead of the subtle tyranny of true terrors in the night. A whisper from the dark would have done more to ramp his heart rate. A brush of wind against his exposed neck might have made him flinch.

    But he had to remind himself, this wasn¡¯t for him. This was for the normies, the powerless who held no recourse in the face of these supernatural beings. Rather than fear, his anger sparked, that reminder lighting the kindling that was Flore¡¯s murder.

    Metal Telekinesis was Affixed to his Body slot. Marlon¡¯s F-grade portal skill rest in his left hand slot. He could feel it was close to an upgrade, on the cusp of E-grade, but just needing one more push in his sessions with Marlon. It was to the point that he could teleport himself or others short distances with some effort, but he generally never utilized it unless in private. As far as he knew, nobody knew of its existence except his three ghoul shadows, his father, and Silver.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    In his right hand slot, though, was his trump card.

    He hoped he wouldn¡¯t be forced to use it.

    As soon as the four of them passed the threshold of the marked building, the air changed. Terry felt eyes on him, heard quiet calls, the sounds of supernatural movement, and flickers of shadows as at least one scout ranged deeper into Blood Alley.

    ¡°I love when dinner delivers itself.¡± A voice hissed from the nearby roof. Terry didn¡¯t need to look to feel the sanguine¡¯s presence.

    Answering chuckles came from across the street, echoing down into the street below.

    Quieter, he heard another voice near the speaker. ¡°He has servants of bone with him.¡±

    The chuckles trailed off, replaced with violent hissing sounds that came from every direction.

    Terry continued forward, ignoring the threatening noises, the catcalls, and the shadowy movement trailing them above.

    After a few hundred feet, the railroad tracks swerved past a warehouse teeming with activity. Movement flashed on the roof, around the sides, and across the open air. The sounds of hissing and quiet whispers echoed toward them.

    And, the pained moans of the three humans locked in stockades in the center of the tracks.

    His stomach dropped once he recognized the sounds for what they were. He spotted the sanguine beginning to form outside that warehouse¡ªpresumably their headquarters¡ªbut he ignored them. As he neared the three imprisoned people, they heard his footsteps and flinched, their moaning becoming more panicked.

    ¡°No, please!¡± a woman cried, bucking against the wooden restraints.

    ¡°Take me!¡± The man beside her strained to look up to catch Terry¡¯s eye. ¡°Let my wife and daughter go. Please!¡±

    Bile filled his throat as he came around the front of them, getting a good look for the first time.

    On the left was the woman, dressed in a white night gown, red splashes coating her neck, drying upon the wooden stockade. On the right was the man, whose face was a mask of pure fatherly terror.

    And in the middle, a girl, no more than seven. She was in princess pajamas, one foot naked, her other covered in a Snoopy slipper.

    His fists clenched so tight he felt blood begin to drip.

    The father seemed to realize he wasn¡¯t a sanguine, his eyes widening.

    ¡°Please, help us! They took us from our homes! Send the Emperor! Send the¡ª¡± Crunch, Burg, and Blood walked up beside Terry and the man gasped. ¡°Oh, thank the Emperor. Lucy, we¡¯re saved!¡±

    Terry bent his knees to come eye to eye with the girl. Her eyes flicked up, terror and hope mingling there. Dehydrated lips spoke of multiple nights left outside and he felt his blood burn.

    ¡°Wh-who are you?¡± the girl asked, her voice soft and high.

    He forced a smile past the anger. ¡°I¡¯m Terry. I¡¯m here to save you. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Anabelle.¡±

    ¡°What a pretty name.¡±

    ¡°Terry? Prince Terry?¡± The father nearly shouted in relief. ¡°Yo-you¡¯ve come to save us¡­right?¡±

    He stood and nodded toward the man. ¡°I¡¯ve come to save you.¡±

    The father closed his eyes, sagging against the stockade. Terry turned to go, but the girl called out, stopping him.

    ¡°Will the Emperor stop them?¡± Her voice sounded so pure, it pained him to walk away.

    He couldn¡¯t look back¡ªhis throat felt tight, ready to betray him if he did. ¡°No.¡± He paused, scanning the dozen sanguine watching him with hunger from in front of the nearby warehouse. ¡°He won¡¯t stop them,¡± Terry continued. ¡°But I will.¡±

    With a shift of his aura, he left Burg and Blood to watch over the family. The instructions were clear: protect them with your lives. A few months ago, they might have bucked against being left behind. But now they understood that Terry wasn¡¯t a helpless boy anymore. They understood that there were some things he wouldn¡¯t allow to happen. And leaving this family out here alone with the night predators was one of those things.

    As he approached, he fingered the bracelet Silver had given him a few months back for his fifteenth birthday. They¡¯d spent the day visiting Terraform¡¯s Market, exploring the underground wonder, before returning to Wichita. The bracelet had been a gift, as well as the portal to Topeka where he¡¯d spent the week with his father. After Silver brought Terry back to Wichita, he had left to continue his search for the other Singularities and Terry hadn¡¯t heard from him since.

    For the millionth time, he prayed his grandfather was alive, prayed that he¡¯d come back soon. Without him, Terry feared Topeka was lost. And with it, Wichita.

    He gave the bracelet one last touch before turning his mind back to the matter at hand.

    The sanguine weren¡¯t like the legends of old. Nothing about them suggested human origins or some sort of turning process. They weren¡¯t physically imposing like ghouls, nor did they have powerful aura attacks like draugrs. Rather, they were relatively diminutive, most of them coming up to Terry¡¯s chin. Their skin was pale with blue veins writhing visibly beneath the surface. That same skin could stretch or contract along their arms and sides to give them the ability to glide¡ªthough he was assured that most of them couldn¡¯t fly. Despite their stature, he had been told they were strong for their size, though not as strong as ghouls.

    Unlike the ghouls, they multiplied quickly¡ªthough how they did so, he had never been told. But he knew their numbers were growing, and fast.

    Before the entrance to the main warehouse, eight sanguine barred the way. They leered at him, licking their fangs and clicking them audibly. Their auras quested forward, but Terry blocked their attempts to infect him with terror. Crunch stepped forward a moment later and their demeanors changed entirely, like hackles raising on a dog. Hisses echoed out, a pit of pale vipers, and Terry wondered if they would actually attack.

    But a powerful presence reached out with its aura, slapping the eight sanguine down like an annoyed parent. They instantly parted, shrinking into themselves before bursting into motion. Terry almost reacted on instinct, but realized a moment later they were racing for the warehouse wall. In a blink, they were climbing up the exterior, reaching the roof in moments. Their silhouettes launched into the night sky, their arms spread out wide as they glided through the air.

    Terry and Crunch shared a look¡ªTerry in surprise, Crunch as stoic as ever.

    ¡°Enter, son of bone.¡±

    The voice echoed out from the warehouse, sounding ancient and powerful. He felt it in his chest and his aura. He wondered for the briefest moment if he¡¯d made a mistake confronting the sanguine elder. But a glance over at the family protected by Burg and Blood steeled his resolve.

    He entered the warehouse, Crunch stepping quickly to angle his body in front. No light burned in the space, but Terry¡¯s vision was adjusting, his Perception Attribute high enough now that his night vision was supernatural.

    Still, he paused at the door, both to let his eyes acclimate and to steel himself against the iron smell assaulting his senses.

    Blood. The smell of blood invaded his body. He could taste it in the back of his throat, feel that copper tang burning his nostrils.

    He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath, letting the smell wash over him. As he entered the pitch black, silhouettes became visible.

    Dozens¡ªno, hundreds¡ªof people-shaped silhouettes lined up on either side, forming an alleyway of bodies leading forward. Ahead, a large blob stood raised up, commanding the center of the warehouse.

    He put a hand on Crunch¡¯s arm, then took the lead. There was no fighting this many sanguine. If it came to a melee, they were dead. The ghoul let him move past and together, they approached the large thing occupying the center of the space.

    As they approached, the shape resolved clearer in his vision. Steps leading up to a chair¡ªno, a throne, he realized.

    Twenty feet separated them from the throne, when he stepped on something that broke beneath his foot with a crunch. He glanced down, catching the general shape of a bone snapped under foot. As he scanned the dark floor, more white bone caught his eye.

    He closed the distance, placing his feet carefully as he neared. As he stopped, it was clear that stairs rose up to a dais made of bone. The indistinct shape that must have been the sanguine elder, resting upon a throne made of the same material.

    Crunch and Terry stopped at a respectable distance, but the weight of the sanguine¡¯s aura sat heavy in the space. It was hard to qualify without obtrusively wrapping his own aura about the creature, but a rough guess put the density and strength around that of his father, perhaps. Powerful, but no match for the Emperor.

    That thought buoyed him, though it made no difference in the present moment.

    ¡°What brings you to my domain, son of bone?¡±

    Terry clicked his tongue in thought. ¡°Your domain?¡±

    Movement flashed all around him, lost in the dark but unmissable to his ears. Angry hisses echoed out, painfully loud.

    But he didn¡¯t flinch; didn¡¯t even allow his heart rate to flicker. His eyes held that dark shape on the throne before him, never blinking.

    The violent hissing went on for a few more moments, then aura washed out, drowning the sound as the elder imposed his will on the others. The weight of its aura was heavy but Terry didn¡¯t allow himself to flinch beneath it.

    ¡°This is the Emperor¡¯s domain, no?¡± Terry looked around, taking in the dark warehouse as if he could see clear as day. ¡°You, his honored guests.¡±

    The elder chuckled dryly. ¡°Just so.¡±

    ¡°I find it strange, then, that you hold his citizens prisoner inside his domain.¡±

    Silence hung heavy in the air, not a flicker of movement or breath to signal the elder had heard his words. Terry kept his body still, his heart rate calm.

    Then, aura flexed, warping the air. Crunch shifted at his side, prepared to fight, but movement all around them signaled that the horde were pressing in.

    The elder hadn¡¯t moved, but Terry had.

    His left hand flicked imperceptibly, forming a nearly invisible flash of blue that parted space no wider than his pinky finger. At the same time, he activated the Affixation on his right-hand slot. The bracelet on his wrist seemed to melt away, the twelve balls of silver liquefying before re-hardening into slivers of ramrod straight metal six inches long and as thin as needles. He propelled them through the tiny portal, using his metal telekinesis to angle them subtly into position.

    It all happened in a blink, his aura use so discreet that even the elder hadn¡¯t understood what he had felt.

    ¡°The lord of bone didn¡¯t send you, did he?¡±

    Terry let a pleased smile touch his face.

    ¡°So what if he didn¡¯t? As prince of this city, it is my duty to protect my people.¡±

    The elder chuckled dryly. ¡°How can you protect your people when you cannot even protect yourself?¡±

    ¡°Can I not?¡±

    A wave of the elder¡¯s hand encompassed the warehouse. ¡°You are surrounded by hundreds of my spawn. The lord of bone has no inkling you are here.¡± The elder¡¯s voice lowered. ¡°Tell me, why shouldn¡¯t I taste your Awakened blood? We have ways of hiding bodies that would leave even the lord of bone clueless.¡±

    Terry matched the elder¡¯s chuckle, sliding his needles forward a half-inch until they pressed against the sanguine¡¯s aura sense.

    ¡°You tell me, why shouldn¡¯t I end your miserable existence? Emperor knows it would wipe a blight from this city.¡±

    The elder felt the silver needles approaching him from every angle. He moved in a panic, but reared back as his skin touched one of them. The ancient sanguine was encased in an iron maiden of silver and was just realizing it.

    ¡°So, this is how this is going to go.¡± Terry pressed the silver needles in tight, locking the sanguine down completely. ¡°Answer my every question. Release that family. And tell me what you know about the murder of an Awakened going by the name Fluorescent.¡± A needle speared the elder in the arm and it hissed. ¡°And if you don¡¯t, I¡¯m gonna turn you into a pincushion.¡±

 Chapter 49: Broken Light

    The elder of the Blood Clot clan, a Red Duke of the Charnal Halls, had not been so furious in a thousand years.

    Held under threat of silver by a spawnling! Extorted into abasement by a creature no stronger than one of my thousand children.

    The truth of that rankled more than his clan¡¯s exile to this realm. More than the tenuous alliance between man and sanguine that neither could break.

    It took a force of will cultivated over millennia to stop himself from slaying the boy outright. He would almost rather live with the silver mania than suffer this insult.

    Almost.

    When the boy had finally left, releasing the silver trap, he was sorely tempted to send his spawnlings after him. But one of the bone servants had left ahead of them, a witness to the boy¡¯s arrival. To exact vengeance now would incite reprisal from their lord.

    And adding insult to injury, they had taken his meal! Three nights, he¡¯d waited, his patience strained to the limit. Three nights for the fear to take root, the delicious cortisol, adrenaline, and other chemicals of terror mixing to create a beautiful cocktail ready to be enjoyed.

    He had been dreaming of draining the little one!

    The anger unconsciously slipped to the hand clutching one of his lieutenants by the neck. Kicking legs were the only indication he was squeezing too tight, before his spawnling¡¯s neck burst like a sated tic. He tossed the body with a contemptuous sigh, letting his children consume their sibling rather than waste the sustenance.

    Times were hard in this cloistered city¡ªeven with the eternal night.

    He beckoned the nearest lieutenant over with a thought and a flex of aura. The spawling approached with her head low, her body quivering. Placing a hand around her neck, he kept the pressure loose as he spoke.

    ¡°Your brother reported the brat prince was an E-ranker.¡±

    His claws punctured skin, a not-so-subtle indication of his exhausted patience.

    ¡°All signs suggested it, sire!¡± His claws pressed tighter, choking her. Her voice hissed out, quiet and strained. ¡°Perhaps D-grade, but certainly not C¡ª¡±

    He cut her off with a squeeze, his voice echoing so painfully that the nearby spawnling threw hands over their sensitive ears.

    ¡°Then how, exactly, did he open micro portals and liquefy silver!¡± He shook her lightly, her limbs flapping about bonelessly.

    When he was done, he was surprised to note the lieutenant was still alive. Strong stock, he noted. Remember this one.

    She spoke through obvious agony, her tone subservient and measured.

    ¡°I will look into it personally, sire!¡±

    She hesitated and he sensed there was more she wanted to say.

    ¡°Speak.¡±

    It only took her a moment to steel her resolve, all the while knowing that her life hung on the balance of her next words.

    ¡°Do we¡­engage with the lord of bones¡ª¡±

    His aura stretched out with mention of the man. All throughout the nest, spawnling reacted as if a physical weight pressed them to the floor.

    ¡°And why in the name of the Sanguine Prince would we do that?¡±

    To her credit, she continued with her line of thought, not letting the threat of violent death steal her nerve.

    ¡°To receive recompense for your stolen meal¡ª¡±

    He threw her away, sparing her, but not without injury.

    ¡°That blood sack will never hear of this meeting! Is that clear?¡± The nearby spawnling mewed in abject terror and he felt the promising lieutenant shove her way to the front, taking a knee with dignity. Yes, very good, he thought. ¡°What if the lord of bone were to deny us, hm? We would slink away in shame, empty handed? No, never ask for something that can be refused.¡± His aura relaxed, allowing his children to relax in turn. ¡°Instead, double the feedings. Make him come to us.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sire.¡± The lieutenant¡¯s voice was steady and he nodded approvingly.

    ¡°But first¡­.tell me everything we know of this Fluorescent.¡±

    <hr>

    The family of three were too weak to walk.

    Anabelle¡ªthe girl¡ªflinched as Crunch tried to pick her up. Her father had tried himself, but days without food or water had sapped his energy.

    It was only after Terry bent down to a knee and spoke to her, did she relent.

    ¡°Are the ghouls scary?¡± he asked softly.

    She refused to look at him at first, but after a moment, her eyes peeked through her hair to glance at him.

    ¡°Ana, darling, please.¡± The mother was scanning the nearby buildings, her eyes searching for sanguine that refused to be seen. ¡°We have to go. Now!¡±

    Her voice was high, panicked, infecting the girl with that frantic energy.

    Terry glanced up, nodding subtly to let her know he could handle it. Her eyes were widened with terror, but she relented, her will too drained to feel anything but relief.

    ¡°Anabelle is such a pretty name.¡± He pointed toward Crunch. ¡°Wanna know his name? It¡¯s not nearly as pretty, but he likes it.¡±

    The girl¡¯s head swiveled, but her hair still covered her face. After a moment, she nodded, her greasy hair swaying briefly.

    ¡°His name¡¯s Crunch.¡± He pantomimed taking a bite out of imaginary food with a big chewing noise. ¡°Like the sound you make when you bite into celery or an apple.¡±

    Her nose wrinkled behind her hair.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like celery.¡± Her voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it all the same.

    He leaned in, matching her whisper.

    ¡°I don¡¯t either. Don¡¯t tell my dad.¡±

    Her lip quirked up and she nodded quickly.

    ¡°Is it okay if my friend carries you? We want to get away from the bad things.¡±

    She whipped her head back toward the warehouse, but Terry spoke quickly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at them.¡± He kept his voice low, soothing. ¡°Look at me, Anabelle.¡± Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze back. ¡°Crunch is a good guy. He doesn¡¯t like them. He¡¯ll protect you and your parents, okay?¡±

    She chewed her lip for a moment before nodding. Terry smiled, holding his hands out.

    ¡°Can I hand you to him?¡±

    Stepping forward, she angled into his arms. As he rose, Crunch came to take her. His single arm scooped her up easily and she giggled.

    ¡°His skin feels slimy.¡±

    Terry matched her with a chuckle of his own. ¡°It does, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    Eyeing the warehouse, he kept his silver needles around them like a net, poised to stab any sanguine that attacked.

    Burgundy had paced ahead, leaving Blood Alley as insurance. Should they be overwhelmed, he would return to the Emperor and lead a bloody crusade against the sanguine. But his absence meant Bloodstain had to carry both parents.

    It was an uncomfortable journey for them, but neither complained as the ghoul jogged with one on each shoulder. Terry would have offered, but his attention was on his metal telekinesis and the dozens of needles that were shadowing them.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    When they exited the train tracks and linked up with Burg, the mother let out a cry of relief, forcing herself off Blood¡¯s shoulder to give her daughter a frantic hug.

    After their tearful embraces, Burg ranged around them to make sure no sanguine followed as they ferried the family back to their homes.

    It was a bittersweet parting for Terry. On one hand, saving them had been an unexpected bonus to his confrontation with the sanguine. On the other hand, he knew that saving three lives was only a drop in the bucket compared to the hundreds reported missing.

    Once they were safely behind locked doors, Terry and his three ghouls climbed to a nearby roof and began the trek back to the Break Room. As they leapt roof to roof, he examined the latest update to his Quest.

    Quest Given: [Feed Wichita]

    Grow enough food to supplement Topeka¡¯s inflows.

    Update ¡ú Next Step: Discover a new light source

    Deadline: 31 days remaining until famine riots

    Reward: Variable

    Thirty-one days¡­thirty-one days until the riots.

    ¡°We¡¯re not ready,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°My prince?¡± Crunch asked at his side.

    ¡°Nothing, Crunch. Nothing¡­¡±

    For eight months, he¡¯d been able to sit back and let Flore and Tania run Feed Wichita like a well-oiled machine. But now, their main source of light was gone. More than that, their team leader was dead. How would Tania take it? How would Vladimir react? Would he try to assert control over the others? He¡¯d fallen into line so well the last few months and now all of that was threatened.

    He needed to enact Plan B. He¡¯d shied away from it, afraid what he might learn, but also afraid to antagonize his grandfather. Flore¡¯s death necessitated it though.

    He had to pay Sol a visit.

    <hr>

    The Catacombs no longer held any sway over Terry¡¯s mind. What had once felt eerie, preternaturally dark and full of terrors, was now simply excavated rock and stale air.

    Even as his feet tread familiar ground, the memory of Tenebrous¡¯ forearm around his neck, none of the fear from that time so long ago touched him.

    As he approached the section of the underground prison reserved solely for the S-ranked Elementalist, a flush of excitement washed over him. And, a touch of anxiety.

    What secrets does Sol hold about mom? Why had he tried to kidnap me? And what had he been trying to do that fateful morning over a year ago?

    He pushed those thoughts away, and with it, the anxiety. They were selfish thoughts, irrelevant to the plight facing Wichita. He couldn¡¯t afford to be distracted, not now.

    His mission was clear: convince Sol to let him catalog a light-based Skill.

    As he trekked deeper into the Catacombs, the pained cries of prisoners echoed out louder and more numerous than in his memory. Hunger and sanguine abductions had clearly led to a greater number of people willing to speak out against the Emperor and the sounds he heard now were evidence of his grandfather¡¯s unmerciful tenor.

    It hurt him to hear, hurt him to realize that the man he had once idolized was little more than a superpowered tyrant. But he couldn¡¯t change Wichita in a day; everything he was doing now was for those wrongly imprisoned. For the hungry and hopeless of the city who wondered why their fathers or mothers or children disappeared. For those wondering if it was the sanguine¡­or their own ruler.

    He reached the first checkpoint on the path to Sol¡¯s prison. From Crunch, he knew these checkpoints had been instituted after Tenebrous¡¯ capture; a way of preventing a breakout should an Awakened get this far into the underground fortress.

    Four ghouls stood at attention beside a heavy steel door. Another four humans sat at a table, playing a game of cards. An ominous red button jutted from the wall near the guards¡ªobviously an alarm.

    The ghouls reacted first, their auras shifting in silent conversation as they sensed him. The humans were too engrossed in their game to notice as he turned the corner into view, but a quiet growl from one of the ghouls alerted them. They turned toward the ghoul in surprise, then all four heads whipped toward Terry in a near panic. As they bolted to their feet, they nearly overturned the table in their haste.

    One of the guards blurted out in surprise.

    ¡°Pr-prince Terry! Wh-what brings you here?¡±

    Another guard hissed and slapped his arm discreetly¡ªpresumably at the guard¡¯s lack of decorum in questioning his prince.

    Terry just chuckled lightly, letting them know they were off the hook.

    ¡°Gentlemen, please. Rest easy.¡± He approached, flaring his aura in greeting to the ghouls as he addressed the human guards. The ghouls expressed their aura back, respect mingled with subtle surprise. ¡°I¡¯m here to visit the prisoner.¡±

    The guards shared a worried glance. It was clear they hadn¡¯t been briefed on whether or not he was permitted and were trying to figure out how much trouble they would get in¡ªeither by rebuffing him or letting him through.

    The ghouls shared no such indecision.

    ¡°Visitors are not permitted, my prince.¡± The ghoul who spoke shifted his aura into a regretful shape.

    The human guards sighed, clearly grateful their undead counterparts had taken the lead.

    But Terry wasn¡¯t going to be deterred. He shaped his aura in turn, a shape best translated to embarrassed insistence.

    ¡°Pardon, honorable servant, but it is not your place to turn away your prince.¡± He locked eyes with the human guards. ¡°Feel free to search me, but I will be entering.¡±

    Their anxiety redoubled, their auras fluctuating so visibly that Terry felt the ghouls pull their own auras away from the human guards. Terry had learned that a lack of control was embarrassing to their kind.

    ¡°My prince¡­¡± The guard started, then trailed off as the ghoul stepped forward.

    At first, the guards went wide eyed, believing the ghoul was taking a threatening posture. But Terry simply smiled, bowing his head in acknowledgment of their unspoken conversation.

    Shapes in their auras danced back and forth as Terry and the ghoul spoke.

    This one would not see his charges punished, the ghoul¡¯s aura said.

    And this one would never allow that, he replied. He had learned over the past year from Crunch, Blood, and Burg that the ghoulish soldiers held their human companions in an interesting light; almost like children that needed protecting. It was a complicated relationship, more nuanced than that. But from what he had gathered, the ghouls admired and protected human soldiers in particular because they viewed them as inordinately brave. They had to be, in order to put their incredibly fragile lives on the line against superpowered Awakened.

    That was Terry¡¯s interpretation, anyway.

    Your honor is well known. Forgive this one for questioning.

    Terry waved away the ghoul¡¯s concern. Turning to the guards, he smiled.

    ¡°It¡¯s been decided, gentlemen. Open the door, please.¡±

    The guards looked toward the ghouls in question, but to their credit, didn¡¯t argue with their prince.

    ¡°May I search you, my prince? For sources of light.¡±

    He nodded acknowledgment and the head guard turned out Terry¡¯s pockets, ran his hand along the inside of his waistband, his shoes, and so on. It was a relatively surface-level search, but they didn¡¯t exactly suspect their prince of attempting a breakout anyway.

    With the cursory search done, one of them pulled an oddly shaped key from a pocket and went to the steel door. As he slotted it in, the lead ghoul shaped his aura, feeding it into a particular spot on the other side of the door.

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose. An Artifact that responds to aura imprints. Fascinating.

    The door shuddered, an internal mechanism interacting with the aura, followed by the sounds of loud thuds as metal bars retracted from the stone wall. The ghoul pushed the door open, allowing Terry to pass by.

    He thanked the humans vocally, the ghouls with his aura, then strode deeper into the prison.

    When he reached the second checkpoint, there were no humans present. Instead, one of the patches¡ªnot Tom or Jerry¡ªstood at ease near a similarly Artificed door.

    The patches were not vocal like the ghouls, but that didn¡¯t mean they were stupid. When he approached, the eyes behind its steel mask narrowed briefly. But as their auras touched, there was no confusion about who he was or his ancestry. The patches flashed an acknowledgment, then opened the Artificed door with a similar burst of imprinted aura.

    Behind that door, no lights shone.

    He strode past the doorway, the light at his back fading as the door was shut behind him. Pure, inky black darkness engulfed him. The final threshold lay before him, guarded by a creature he did not know, yet elicited familiar primal feelings within him.

    The draugr left its position against the far door, approaching with a languid air. Its aura felt the same as the one Silver had killed, yet Terry couldn¡¯t help but chuckle inwardly.

    It had felt so strong when I was un-Awakened.

    Not to say the draugr was weak¡ªfar from it. But now, it felt like a solid rock anchored in the center of that aura river, rather than a looming mountain, vast and unscalable.

    He was still intimidated by the creature, the cold despair from its aura tracing shivers up his spine. But no longer did it suffocate him with its mere presence. As it approached, a forceful wave of aura pushed toward him. It felt violent, clumsy with its strength, and he knew now that draugr lacked the subtlety of the other undead.

    It was a blunt instrument, no nuance or tact to its being.

    An excellent prison guard, but a butcher when positioned at the city gates.

    He understood why the draugr had attacked so many months back, why it had slaughtered civilians and ghouls alike. It was a single-minded creature¡ªa hammer who considered every problem a nail.

    And it only respected one thing.

    ¡°No passage,¡± it hissed. Its aura reinforced the notion, pressing against him, trying to push him back.

    He wouldn¡¯t let it.

    ¡°I am the grandson of Emperor Necroton, your lord. I will pass.¡±

    Its aura redoubled, but Terry didn¡¯t let that boy-like fear take hold. He flexed his own aura, relishing in the way they nearly matched. The draugr was indomitable, more raw emotion than sentient creature.

    But Terry¡¯s conviction was ironclad, his purpose pure.

    The draugr could have killed him with its body, if not its aura. But that wasn¡¯t what it had been programmed to do. And if it tried, well¡­Terry had some tricks up his sleeve that could counter the creature.

    Their silent battle raged for another few heartbeats, a tide of power ebbing and flowing, until it was clear that Terry would not submit.

    The wave retreated and didn¡¯t return.

    ¡°You are the son of bone and spirit. You may pass.¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t let surprise register in his aura, maintaining the illusion that he belonged here. But he couldn¡¯t help but cheer internally.

    Take that, you bastard!

    The draugr opened the door at the end of the hall with its aura and Terry opened his senses to navigate the pitch black.

    Past the third door, he found himself in a small space, only a handful of paces wide in any direction. Another door lay before him and a quick pass of his aura revealed no key or receptacle for an imprint. There was, however, a small feeding slot at waist height. A chair lay to the side and he dragged it forward, placing it before the slot.

    Slowly, he peeled the sliding door back, the metal grating with a soft hiss.

    ¡°Sol?¡± He kept his voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

    Movement stirred beyond the door¡ªthe rustle of cloth against cloth.

    ¡°Wh-who¡¯s there? Terrence? Have you come to gloat some more?¡±

    His heart clenched at the tremor in the man¡¯s voice. Here lay a man who had once tamed the sun and sky. Who had once rivaled the atomic bombs of before.

    Now, he sounded broken.

    ¡°No, Sol. I haven¡¯t come to gloat. It¡¯s Terry, Penelope¡¯s son. And I¡¯ve come to ask for your help.¡±

 Chapter 50: Stewards of a Dream

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 58:01:13 09:34 local time)

    Fluorescent <Flore Shaffer>

    Summary

    Flore Shaffer (chosen super moniker: Fluorescent) is a B-ranked Elementalist (confirmed) with control over the element of light within the visible spectrum. She first came on the superhero scene in Richmond where she worked as a vigilante for three years. While apprehending the villain, Meglo (no entry), she inadvertently blinded fourteen civilians with the use of her power. When SPC forces attempted to apprehend her for trial, she fled. She resurfaced in the Free-City of Wichita three years later, murdered by sanguine (see <Vampires (disambiguation)>).

    According to birth records, she was 25 years of age when her body was found.

    Powerset

    While unconfirmed, it is believed that Fluorescent¡¯s elemental control specifically correlates to the visible light spectrum. She is on video projecting powerful expansions of light and is capable of temporarily blinding many supers below the B-rank (citation needed). She is on record permanently blinding at least a dozen civilians.

    + Elementalist (F to C)

    <click to expand>

    + Elementalist (C to B)

    <click to expand>

    Affiliation

    She registered with the <Supers for Peaceful Cohesion> in Year 51 as an F-ranked Elementalist. After fleeing justice, the SPC revoked her membership. Up until her death, she had no known affiliations.

    There has been speculation concerning her appearance in the Free-City of Wichita in relation to the sanguine and Emperor Necroton¡¯s working, but any connection has been vehemently denied by the Emperor¡¯s representatives.

    Personal Life

    <click to expand>

    Notable Exploits

    <click to expand>

    <hr>

    For a few tense moments, there was no sound in the pitch-black prison but the echo of Terry¡¯s own breathing.

    Then, a swish of cloth as Sol shifted in his cell.

    His voice was hoarse as he spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m beyond helping anyone. Last time I tried, I ended up here.¡± A dark chuckle echoed from the slot, turned to a wracking cough.

    Terry hesitated. Was he wasting his time on a broken man?

    He tried for a jab, something to spark a flicker of heat in the man¡¯s chest.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the footage of the attack.¡± Something shifted in the dark. ¡°I want to understand, Sol.¡±

    Another cough, a harsh clearing of the throat. ¡°Footage can be altered. Don¡¯t believe everything you see.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± he asked skeptically. ¡°Because what I saw was one of my heroes desperately trying to save a woman who didn¡¯t want to be saved.¡±

    Sol took in a harsh intake of breath. The months in the dark, isolated from reality had chipped away at any savvy or subterfuge, Terry realized. As far as Sol knew, he¡¯d be a prisoner of Necroton for the rest of his considerable life. What would he care for modulating his reactions or keeping secrets?

    ¡°You¡­¡± His voice was tremulous, sounding aged and tired. ¡°You met Arthur, then?¡±

    Arthur? Terry hadn¡¯t been expecting that. A flush of betrayal filled him, but he pushed it away. I¡¯ll deal with that another time.

    Keeping the urge to press in check, he waited for Sol to fill in the blanks.

    ¡°I just wanted to know that she was okay,¡± he whispered. ¡°I engaged Arthur to track her movements. But things¡­didn¡¯t look right.¡± He sighed, movement sounding as he turned away, his voice echoing back from the far wall as he continued. ¡°Terrence cut all ties. Boxed me out from her life¡ªfrom yours. The more I pressed, the more agitated he became¡­¡± Sol trailed off, clearly lost in thought.

    Terry let the silence linger, his own thoughts finally coalescing into the obvious conclusion.

    ¡°You loved my mother, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    He heard Sol whirl around, his voice suddenly filled with a fire that gave Terry hope that the larger than life man he had once admired was still alive.

    ¡°Of course I did, boy! I raised her!¡± Softer now, his words trembling. ¡°I-I raised her¡­¡±

    He had so many questions, so much he didn¡¯t know or understand. But he felt Sol was balancing on a tightrope perched over oblivion. To press him in the wrong way would shatter what semblance of sanity he still possessed.

    Carefully, he considered his next words.

    ¡°And me? What am I to you? Why did you send Savage to take me?¡±

    Sol let out a bitter scoff, shocking Terry¡¯s blood cold.

    ¡°You? You were simply a hostage, boy.¡±

    ¡°You claim to have cared about my mother?¡± Terry shot back. ¡°Yet you think using me as a hostage would somehow mend that bridge between you? You can¡¯t be that stupid.¡±

    ¡°Use you?¡± Sol snorted. ¡°No, I was freeing you. You were Terrence¡¯s hostage against your mother¡¯s cooperation. Isn¡¯t it obvious? Without you in his clutches, your mother would have freed me already!¡±

    Terry sat back on his heels, a soft sigh escaping from his lips.

    ¡°No, Sol.¡± His tone was flat, weary. ¡°I was never a hostage.¡±

    Sol grunted. ¡°What do you know?¡± A silence hung between them, but Terry could feel the man¡¯s agitation in his aura and the restlessness of his limbs. After a handful of breaths, Sol spoke again, his voice low, yearning, terrified. ¡°Will you ask her to visit?¡±

    Terry¡¯s anger drained away like the plug had been pulled. He wanted to be mad at the man¡ªmad for Sol refusing to take any accountability, for thinking he knew better after a year of solitude, for invading Wichita with aspirations of saving his mother like some white knight from the stories.

    The heroes he¡¯d once worshiped were petty, flawed, and too full of themselves to care about the ramifications of their actions. Even before Sol¡¯s mind had been eroded by the dark and loneliness, he had thought it a good idea to come riding in on a wave of power to snatch her and her son from their lives. Arthur¡¯s footage would have demonstrated that they weren¡¯t prisoners, that they laughed and played and enjoyed their lives together.

    But it was the hubris of an S-ranker to think he knew better.

    ¡°She can¡¯t visit you, Sol.¡± He let out a slow breath, keeping his emotions tightly lidded.

    ¡°Please, if you¡¯ll just convince her, I promise to¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± His voice was more forceful than he had intended and he took another deep breath to center himself. ¡°Not won¡¯t, Sol. Can¡¯t.¡± He felt the man¡¯s emotions stir, an anger setting in his aura. Sol thought the Emperor was blocking her visits. He nipped that train of thought in the bud, letting some of the heat in his chest imbue his words. ¡°She¡¯s gone.¡± Deja vu struck him so powerfully, he nearly fell back.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    His father¡¯s voice echoed in his mind. ¡°She¡¯s gone. Don¡¯t you get it? Gone!¡±

    He felt himself recoiling, his heart pounding in that memory. It was pounding in the now, as well.

    Watching the memory as if it were playing out before him, he saw his father sigh, closing his eyes.

    Then, those fateful words.

    ¡°She¡¯s dead, Terry.¡±

    But she hadn¡¯t been dead¡ªhis father knew that. As hard as it had been to tell Terry, it was easier than the truth.

    ¡°Gone?¡± Sol asked, oblivious to the memory consuming Terry¡¯s thoughts. ¡°She escaped?¡±

    There was so much hope in that question. So much hope that he almost let the man have it; almost told him an easy lie, rose to his feet, and left him to simmer in those thoughts¡ªlike his father had done to him.

    Almost.

    But for some reason, in this moment, that felt like the most cruel thing he could possibly do. The easy way out. The guiltless way out. It had all the hallmarks of altruism and Terry understood now how these powerful rulers of the world convinced themselves they were heroes; they wrapped the truth in beautiful lies and felt the giving joy as their victims soaked in ignorant bliss.

    A hero¡ªa true hero¡ªwouldn¡¯t mask the uncomfortable truth. They would face it head on and let it wash against them; a bulwark against the violence and loss and injustice of the world.

    That thought crystallized inside him, feeling more solid and true than anything else he¡¯d ever felt.

    This is what being a hero means. Doing the hard thing. Not protecting others from what they can¡¯t handle¡ªthat isn¡¯t a determination we should make. Instead, help them face their reality head-on, shepherding them through the pain or loss or anger.

    A hero isn¡¯t someone who works from the shadows or shields people from the truth. A hero is the light on the horizon signaling dawn. The night ends. The dark times pass. We must believe that. It¡¯s the hero that reminds us.

    Otherwise, hope is lost.

    He didn¡¯t know how long these thoughts percolated, but eventually, Sol¡¯s voice pulled him up from that vortex.

    ¡°If she escaped¡­why are you still here?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if she escaped, Sol. I don¡¯t even know if she¡¯s dead. All I know is that she¡¯s gone and she hasn¡¯t come back. And with her, hope for Wichita¡ªand Topeka. Hope is gone and only the night remains. Vampires roam Wichita, stealing its people for food. Topeka is a warzone¡ªthe inflection point for a conflict between two arrogant old men with too much power. And my mother, who once stood as that beacon of hope, is nowhere to be found.¡± He wanted to curl up, just lay there in the dark and forget the truth of it all. But he squared his shoulders and shred the beautiful lies with his words. ¡°It falls on me to take up her mantle, Sol. I will stop the vampires, feed the starving, and bring light back to Wichita. No one else is willing or able to shoulder that responsibility. But I¡¯m not so arrogant to think I can do it alone. I need your help.¡±

    The silence that followed was heavier than any that preceded it. Terry¡¯s skin flushed, his heart pounding physically in his chest, his breathing quick and shallow. He didn¡¯t know why he felt this so powerfully¡ªonly that he did. But a part of him worried that Sol would laugh at his conviction, dismiss him as the boy he was, rather than seeing him as the person he could be.

    He couldn¡¯t penetrate the inky black to gauge Sol¡¯s reaction. But he heard the man shift in thought, his lips parting to speak before the words left his mouth. Terry braced for the derisive laugh he knew was coming.

    What he didn¡¯t expect, was the raw emotion bleeding into Sol¡¯s words.

    ¡°You remind me of her.¡± Terry heard the hitch in his voice. ¡°I think¡­¡± He cleared his throat, fighting against the obvious tightness restricting his words. ¡°I think she¡¯d be incredibly proud of you, Terry.¡± He felt stunned at that, unable to process the shift in Sol¡¯s tone. A moment passed where neither spoke.

    Then, Sol broke the silence once more.

    ¡°What can I do to help?¡±

    <hr>

    As Terry left Sol¡¯s prison, he felt both a bone-deep weariness and a flush of conviction. The S-ranker hadn¡¯t offered up the perfect solution to address Flore¡¯s absence, nor the unending night infecting Wichita.

    But he had given Terry the seed he needed.

    With a thought, he pulled up his newest cataloged Skill.

    New Skill Cataloged: Light Shift (D)

    Use aura as a filter to shift the wavelength of light across the electromagnetic spectrum.

    Error. No appropriate Affixation slots available.

    Though the Skill was unusable currently, it had inspired him for one reason: it was the perfect building block for his D-rank Quest. He pulled up the Quest that had been stymieing him for eight months.

    Quest Given: [Create a Skill]

    Create a new D-grade Skill OR hybridize two cataloged Skills into a new D-grade Skill

    Reward: D-rank

    He had spent weeks trying to understand those requirements. Creating a new Skill from scratch sounded impossible. But hybridizing two cataloged Skills into something better? That was a task he had been happy to throw himself at. And he possessed two complementary Skills that should have made that task a walk in the park.

    Should have.

    Metal telekinesis had been his first E-grade Skill and he had worked in the weeks after that to catalog its complement. His weekly sessions with the Iron Maiden had given him the perfect opportunity. A simple lie about his powers had given him unfettered access to her metal liquification Skill. She had been forced to teach him under protest anyway and was all too happy to do nothing but keep it active while he cataloged it.

    The result had led to the trap he had sprung on the sanguine elder¡ªwhat he had called the Iron Maiden, in homage to his reluctant teacher. But no matter how he had tried to finagle the two Skills, he had never managed to make them work together in harmony. All his attempts at hybridizing the two had led to frustration.

    With Sol¡¯s Skill, he saw a way forward.

    But light shift was only a piece of the puzzle. He needed a way to anchor the Skill without needing to be present. And something about that need had reminded him of Marlon and his gravity-defying pottery. Somehow, the Traveler had managed to imbue his pottery with the ability to create spontaneous portals. He needed the man¡¯s expertise if he was going to put Sol¡¯s Skill to work. He needed to visit Terraform¡¯s Market. And to get there, he needed Vladimir to ferry him.

    When he entered Feed Wichita¡¯s headquarters, he felt a tinge of dismay as he took in the lush garden that now spread across its vast space.

    As far as he could see, greenery sprouted from vertical racks¡ªa beautiful sight on any other day.

    But now, half of the garden lay in darkness. Fluorescent lights shone above, but they merely imparted visibility, not the vital UV rays the plants needed. There were UV lamps setup in strategic locations, but they were the exception, not the rule. The team had made a conscious decision not to rely upon the man-made lighting, as the energy requirement would have made it impossible to hide the truth of the warehouse¡¯s purpose.

    Now, he kicked himself for that decision.

    The sounds of shouting pulled him away from the garden and he spun toward the office in surprise. Movement flickered behind the windows, multiple voices raised in argument. He rushed toward the stairs, the voices becoming distinct as he approached.

    ¡°Feed Wichita is dead!¡± That was Tristan¡¯s voice.

    Terry paused at the threshold.

    ¡°You think that¡¯s what Flore would want!¡± Katie yelled back. ¡°Just pack up and let these people starve?¡±

    ¡°What choice do we have?¡± Alan asked quietly, his soft voice cutting through the shouts. ¡°Without Flore, the plants will be dead with the week. Our best bet is to harvest everything we can and distribute it as fairly as possible.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡± Vladimir cut in. ¡°Feed these people for a couple weeks, then what? I say this is the Emperor¡¯s problem¡ª¡±

    ¡°The point is to keep them from starving, you slimy rat!¡± Tania shouted. ¡°What do you think we¡¯ve been doing the last eight months!¡±

    ¡°Watch your mouth, peasant. Or I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    Terry pushed the door open, letting it swing wide as he regarded the six remaining members of Feed Wichita. They whirled in surprise, various expressions of embarrassment and shock on their faces.

    He let his gaze slide across each of them, before finally lingering on Vlad. The C-ranker didn¡¯t wither under Terry¡¯s stare, but he also didn¡¯t continue his bluster.

    Tania, on the other hand, didn¡¯t let her fire gutter out.

    ¡°Where in the Underworld have you been?¡±

    He looked at her for a moment, understanding her frustration, but not feeding into it. Stepping past the threshold and into the office, he approached the desk and leaned against it with a sigh.

    ¡°Terry, I asked you a question.¡± She wasn¡¯t yelling, but he still felt the heat lying beneath the words. ¡°Why am I hearing about Flore¡¯s death from them instead of you?¡±

    He sighed once more, then nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that, Tania. I¡­I went to visit Sol.¡±

    Her mouth gaped open suddenly, while the others let out gasps of surprise. Only Vladimir had a subdued reaction, his eyes narrowing subtly. Terry noted that strange reaction, but didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it.

    ¡°Sol¡¯s alive?¡± Tristan blurted out. He looked between the others, a hint of hope in his tone. ¡°Don¡¯t you get it? Sol¡¯s alive!¡±

    ¡°Terry¡­¡± Katie started. ¡°If Sol¡¯s alive, why is Wichita still dark? Couldn¡¯t he dispel the night pretty easily?¡±

    Tania crossed her arms, her lips pursed tight. He sensed her disapproval, but couldn¡¯t deal with it right now.

    ¡°He is alive, yes. But he¡¯s a prisoner in my grandfather¡¯s dungeon.¡±

    Katie¡¯s eyes went wide, while Tristan¡¯s face dropped. To Terry¡¯s surprise, it was Vladimir that spoke.

    ¡°So the Emperor chooses to maintain this darkness, rather than enlist the help of his enemy.¡±

    Alan shook his head in disbelief. ¡°That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s ludicrous! His own city is starving!¡±

    ¡°None of that matters,¡± Terry said. ¡°I think I have a solution to our light problem, but I need your help.¡± He looked directly at Vladimir when he spoke and the man carefully kept his expression guarded under Terry¡¯s gaze.

    But before the man could respond, Tristan¡¯s face turned bright red, his eyes swelling wide.

    ¡°Our light problem?¡± His fists clenched at his side. ¡°Is that what you want to call it? They murdered her, Terry! They murdered her and they ate her! Is that what you mean by light problem!¡±

    ¡°Tristan¡ª¡± Tania started, but he chopped his hand through the air to cut her off.

    ¡°No! Fuck that!¡± He whirled on Terry, taking five quick steps to close the distance between them. For a moment, Terry thought he was about to be punched by the fellow E-ranker. Instead, Tristan jabbed his finger into his chest. ¡°You think you¡¯re so much better than the Emperor, but you¡¯re not!¡±

    ¡°Tristan, bro¡­¡± Peter said softly.

    ¡°No, Peter,¡± Tristan replied harshly over his shoulder. ¡°Flore dies this morning and she¡¯s already old news. All he sees is this farm. He doesn¡¯t care about any of us. We¡¯re just resources to help him on his Quests!¡±

    The room froze, even Terry feeling stunned by Tristan¡¯s boldness. No one talked about Quests so openly, even if everyone had their suspicions.

    ¡°Tristan, enough!¡±

    It was Tania who moved to stand in front of the young man. He tried to look past her toward Terry, but she shoved him back.

    ¡°I said enough!¡± She glanced back at Terry with an unreadable expression and he had to wonder if she felt the same about him.

    Did they all just consider him a Quest-chaser? Could they really think he had dismissed Flore¡¯s death so easily?

    He rose from the desk, feeling the excitement of earlier turn to ash in his mouth.

    Maybe they were right? Flore¡¯s death had hit me in the moment, but I had moved on to fixing it in hours. I never grieved her loss. Never let it settle in deep to steal my momentum.

    I¡¯d turned callous without even realizing it.

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± He said it softly, barely above a whisper. Everyone turned to him and he looked up. ¡°You¡¯re right, Tristan. I¡­was afraid.¡± He bit his lip as he tried to find the words for what he was feeling. ¡°Afraid to feel her loss too heavily, maybe? Afraid it would sap my will to move forward.¡± He shook his head, letting out a deep breath. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I was afraid of. Failure, maybe?¡± Looking up, he saw Tristan¡¯s eyes narrowed in confusion. ¡°I know what Flore meant to you, Tristan. To all of you¡­to us¡­¡±

    He turned away, walking to the windows, his eyes trailing over the greenery filling the warehouse¡ªhalf-shadowed from lack of light.

    ¡°Do you see that?¡± He looked back, catching their confused looks. Pointing out the window, he felt his blood begin to rise. ¡°That¡¯s not just a Quest¡ª¡± A familiar notification flickered across his vision, but he ignored it. ¡°¡ªthat¡¯s not just a token garden to feed my ego!¡± He whirled around, his breathing coming in heavy now. ¡°That was Flore¡¯s work and it became her dream. Nothing brought her more joy than pulling off a ripe tomato and putting it in the hands of a hungry child.¡± The looks in their eyes shifted and he pressed forward. ¡°She¡¯d rather die a hundred times over than let this die, too. She may be gone, but her dream isn¡¯t. I want to keep her dream¡ªour dream¡ªalive. Not just for her or me or us.¡± He pointed out toward the city. ¡°But for them. We¡¯re the stewards of that dream.¡± His voice dipped quieter, his passion drained, his emotions raw. ¡°I love Wichita and it¡¯s dying. This farm might not fix that¡­but it¡¯s a step in the right direction. And Flore wouldn¡¯t have wanted us to let it die.¡± He stared hard into Tristan¡¯s eyes now. ¡°I know that for a fact.¡±

    No one spoke for a moment. Then, Tania cast a look across the team before stepping forward.

    ¡°I¡¯m with you, Terry. Tell us what you need.¡±

 Chapter 51: A Master at Work

    He was too emotionally drained to do much of anything, even delegate. With a wave, he let Tania take charge, his thoughts turned to the one issue he felt he could address.

    ¡°Vlad.¡± He called the C-ranker¡¯s name with a hint of worry. The man was prickly at the best of times and Flore¡¯s influence had been one of the few things capable of tamping down his ego.

    Vladimir stopped in surprise, then narrowed his eyes as he hung back. The others left the office, casting questioning glances toward the two of them, but Terry ignored their looks.

    The man crossed his arms, wrinkling his nose before speaking.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t wrong.¡± His tone was defensive. ¡°This doesn¡¯t work without Flore, you know that.¡±

    Terry sighed, nodding wearily. ¡°Perhaps. Should we give up, then?¡±

    He shrugged indifferently. ¡°Why not? No one¡¯s expecting us to feed the city.¡± His eyes were sharp now, cutting into Terry. ¡°Because they don¡¯t know, do they?¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t try to play the question off or deflect. He simply nodded.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. We¡¯re on our own.¡± Vlad whirled away, turning his back on Terry. He didn¡¯t let that stop him though. ¡°So what, Vlad? Do you need the Emperor¡¯s sanction to want to do good? Do you need his permission?¡±

    Vlad flipped back, his face tight. ¡°It would be nice, yes! Maybe you don¡¯t understand this, Prince Terry. But the rest of us snuck into this hell hole! We¡¯re unregistered foreign supers on an evil dictator¡¯s turf!¡± He pointed out in the direction of the warehouse. ¡°Maybe tomorrow, it¡¯s my body drained in an alley!¡± He scoffed. ¡°Maybe you could live with that, but what if it was Katie? Tristan?¡± He shook his head, rolling his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m bothering. You¡¯re obviously not intending to stop.¡± His eyebrows rose suggestively. ¡°You can¡¯t, can you?¡±

    Terry felt too stunned to speak. It wasn¡¯t Vladimir¡¯s anger that shocked him, but the ring of truth that underpinned them. The man was right, Terry had snuck them into Wichita and one of them was now dead. Flore¡¯s death was on him. And if Katie died next or Tristan or even Vladimir, those deaths would be on him, too.

    When Terry didn¡¯t immediately reply, Vladimir nodded¡ªnot in smug satisfaction, but as a sort of confirmation. He opened his mouth to say something, but Terry cut across him.

    ¡°You¡¯re right about some things, Vlad.¡± Terry locked eyes with him. ¡°Flore¡¯s death is my responsibility. All of you are. I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t taking that responsibility seriously enough.¡± Vladimir squinted in confusion, but Terry pushed on. ¡°But you¡¯re dead wrong about something, too. I¡¯m not living with anything. The things that killed Flore are gonna pay. That¡¯s a promise. And no, even though you can be a pain in my ass, I would never be okay with you dying.¡± He chuckled as Vladimir rolled his eyes. ¡°But I meant what I said, Vlad. This is too important to let die. It was always about Wichita, nothing more, nothing less. I hope you can believe that.¡±

    He held Vladimir¡¯s gaze, willing the man to feel his conviction, hear the truth in his words the way Terry had heard the truth in his.

    After a few tense moments, Vladimir sighed.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re a good person, even if I didn¡¯t want to see it.¡± He moved to the couch and collapsed into it. ¡°But dammit, Terry, there¡¯s a good chance that before this is over, one or more of us will be dead¡ªand it probably won¡¯t be you.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let that happen!¡±

    Vladimir chuckled dryly. ¡°The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.¡±

    Terry moved to sit on the coffee table across from Vlad, locking eyes with him.

    ¡°We¡¯re not ordinary men, Vlad. We¡¯ve got superpowers to back us up.¡±

    His smile was sad as he looked back at Terry. ¡°So do our enemies¡­¡±

    Terry sat back, feeling the resignation in Vlad¡¯s soul. Something his father had said to him shortly after his Awakening suddenly flash into his mind.

    ¡°We may be pawns, Vlad.¡± Terry stood, feeling invigorated as the memory consumed his thoughts. ¡°But even a pawn can put the king in checkmate.¡± He took some pleasure in Vlad¡¯s thoughtful expression as he turned and walked to the door.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Vlad called after him.

    ¡°Not me,¡± he replied. ¡°Us.¡± He looked back, waving for Vlad to follow. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s about time we returned to the Market.¡±

    <hr>

    The journey back to Terraform¡¯s Market was a quiet affair. Tania had wanted to come with Vlad and Terry, but he had eventually convinced the girl that she was needed in the warehouse.

    So Terry found himself with nothing to do for the next few hours as Vlad ferried them a thousand miles through the earth. He turned to his mother¡¯s rose, feeling for weeks that he was on the cusp of unlocking its magic.

    Drawing out the strand of hair he always kept on him, he continued meshing the genetic material with the metaphysical mold he had created. It was mind-numbing work, but he found it almost meditative after months of practice.

    So he was caught by surprise when Vlad announced their arrival.

    ¡°Terraform has us now,¡± the man declared, settling back on his heels as he released his magic.

    Terry put the rose away, rising to his feet. ¡°Thanks, Vlad.¡±

    A golem of pure glass rose up from the stone platform.

    ¡°Terry. Vladimir.¡± The glass tinkled lightly as it spoke. ¡°Nice to see you both again. What brings you to the Market?¡±

    Terry pursed his lips, not entirely surprised that Terraform hadn¡¯t heard, but still hoping he wouldn¡¯t have to have this conversation. Taking a breath, he simply dived in.

    ¡°Fluorescent is dead.¡±

    The glass didn¡¯t move, its blank face unreadable. A handful of breaths passed before the golem broke the silence.

    ¡°I see. Let¡¯s discuss more in person.¡± The tunnel spread wide, revealing open space before them. ¡°Be welcome in the Market.¡±

    The stone platform seemed to travel into midair over the lava pit hundreds of feet below. But the stability never changed and the two of them stood steady as the platform angled toward Terraform¡¯s office overlooking the Market.

    A piece of solid glass extended out from the floor-to-ceiling windows, creating a connection to the platform. The glass shifted under their feet while the stone pulled away, returning to its place among the tunnel they¡¯d left. See-through glass took them the last fifty feet¡ªa disconcerting sensation, to say the least, but not one that elicited panic.

    As the glass pulled them into Terraform¡¯s office, the man himself reclined in his liquid-stone chair, regarding them with a mournful expression.

    ¡°How did it happen?¡± the man asked, cutting straight to the chase.

    Terry stepped from the glass onto solid stone, stumbling a bit at the change in texture. Vlad, being an Earth Elementalist himself, had no such issues.

    Once Terry had his footing back, he looked to Terraform.

    ¡°Evidence suggests she was killed by the sanguine.¡± The man¡¯s eyes darkened, containing an obvious fury masked well. ¡°However, when I visited them, they claimed to be ignorant of her death. I¡­I believed them.¡±

    ¡°And why is that?¡± he asked gently. ¡°I¡¯ve never dealt with their ilk personally, but they aren¡¯t known for their honesty or honor.¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°I believed them¡­because I held the elder at silver point¡ª¡± Vladimir¡¯s head whipped toward Terry in surprise. ¡°¡ªand then I stole the meal he¡¯d been preparing for three days. And he let me.¡±

    ¡°You what?¡± Vlad uttered in surprise, then quickly bit his lip as he realized he¡¯d spoken over Terraform.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The Market purveyor kept his face completely flat, no evidence of that earlier anger or any surprise showing through. But after a few moments, he blinked, glancing down at his desk. On a hunch, Terry opened his aura senses and wasn¡¯t surprised to note Terraform was sending out pulses of energy along his webs of power.

    When the pulses stopped a few breaths later, Terraform looked up at Terry.

    ¡°I will be doing my own investigation, of course. Flore was one of mine and as much as I trust your word, I cannot leave such transgressions unanswered.¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± Terry replied with a nod.

    Terraform pursed his lips in thought. ¡°I doubt you came all this way just to pass along this news¡ªthough I do appreciate the gesture. Am I right in assuming you¡¯ve come to ask for another Light Elementalist?¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°No?¡± The man¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise.

    Terry shrugged casually. ¡°I certainly wouldn¡¯t say no if you had another one in the wings. But judging from our last conversation, you made it pretty clear that Light Elementalists are in short supply. No, I came to see Marlon actually. His anti-fall pottery gave me an idea and I think I can integrate it with one of my own Skills to recreate Flore¡¯s light effect.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re an Alterant!¡± Vlad burst out. Then he blanched, realizing he¡¯d done it again. ¡°Apologies, sir. Flore¡¯s death has affected me more than I realized.¡±

    Terraform waved away his concern, his eyes still locked on Terry.

    ¡°In that case, you have my writ of passage¡ªyou know that.¡± A pulse of power washed out from the man, a glass bridge forming out above the Pit. ¡°Is there anything else you require while you¡¯re here?¡±

    Terry bowed slightly. ¡°No, sir.¡± Then he remembered his identity and an gave an embarrassed smile. ¡°Uh, actually¡­could I borrow a mask and robe.¡±

    ¡°On the rack over there.¡±

    Terry gratefully donned the clothing items, then moved toward the glass bridge. As Vlad turned to follow, Terraform stopped him.

    ¡°Keep me company, Vlad.¡± To Terry, he said, ¡°I¡¯ll return him to you when you¡¯re ready to leave.¡±

    The C-ranker looked surprised for a split second, but his face smoothed quickly as he bowed.

    ¡°As you wish, sir.¡±

    Terry nodded once, then took the path down to the main thoroughfare below. Pedestrian traffic was just as congested as the last time he¡¯d been here and the looks were more pointed now that he traveled from Terraform¡¯s office alone.

    Despite the stares, no one accosted him or otherwise bothered him, for which he was thankful. He had to admit, Terraform¡¯s Market upheld its reputation as safe and well-managed¡ªa single Traveler-related incident notwithstanding.

    Though he knew there was no time to dawdle, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like he¡¯d missed out the last time he¡¯d visited the Market. The urge to explore pulled at him, but he reminded himself of his mission.

    This is for Wichita. Focus!

    Drawing himself away from the casual displays of magic and the fantastical sights lining the Services Sector, he approached the back alley where Marlon¡¯s shop lay.

    A cat slinked across the ground, racing back into the shop when Terry rounded the corner. As he approached the entrance, a new sign lay taped below the old one.

    IF YOU ASK ME ABOUT LEAVING THE MARKET, I¡¯LL PORTAL YOU INTO THE PIT!

    Terry chuckled to himself as he entered. The shop was much the same as it had been before¡ªa maze of shelves in a haphazard arrangement, covered in pottery of dubious aesthetic sense. Above, cats roamed the rafters and makeshift hammocks, and Terry could have sworn their population had doubled.

    Stepping toward the nearest shelf, he let his analysis ability engage as he shoved one of the vases off its perch. Straining his senses, he watched as the vase fell through the air, split space with an ease that made Terry envious, then reappeared back where it had originally stood.

    His aura was wrapped around the vase, feeling for the power that must have been infused into it through some enchantment or anchor.

    Space suddenly snapped apart beneath his feet¡ªhe felt it with his senses before he saw it. He was sliding into the void now, panic clutching his heart. Frantic hands grasped at the shelving, ripping it down as he was pulled deeper into the void. A hundred pieces of pottery fell with the shelves, then tried to portal back to its surface, only to find the entire structure off-kilter.

    The sound of shattering pottery accompanied his complete submergence in the void and all he could think was: please not the pit of lava, please not the pit of lava!

    Then, his feet touched solid ground once more. The hungry void between space began to retreat. With a voiceless scream, he returned to reality, the silent terror turning loud as his head left the portal and he found himself yelling his throat hoarse.

    He cut off the scream, clearing his throat in embarrassment as he found himself only twenty feet from the shop entrance, face to face with an unimpressed Marlon.

    ¡°Uh, hi.¡± He felt discombobulated, convinced just a moment earlier that he was being deposited into the Pit¡ªor worse, that terrifying void between space.

    ¡°You broke my pottery.¡± Marlon¡¯s tone was flat, no hint of anger or annoyance in his voice. But the curling of his lip indicated otherwise.

    ¡°And you portaled me without my consent!¡± Terry fired back. ¡°I thought I was gonna die!¡±

    He shrugged, turning to settle back into his familiar wicker chair.

    ¡°Thought I¡¯d save you the trip.¡± He nodded toward the pottery maze. Terry blinked slowly, not quite comprehending what the Traveler was saying. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to go, you shoulda just declined the portal.¡±

    ¡°De-declined!¡± Terry spluttered. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do that!¡±

    Marlon didn¡¯t even glance up, his hands back on some misshapen monstrosity that could generously be called a vase in progress.

    ¡°It¡¯s been years. Shoulda figured that out ages ago. What¡¯ve you been doing?¡±

    Terry groaned, looking up at the ceiling, only to spot a dozen pairs of eyes staring back. He flinched away, then shook his head at the absurdity of the situation.

    ¡°No, Marlon. It¡¯s been eight months. And I¡¯ve been busy.¡±

    He stomped over to what he could only assume was a closet and pulled it open. Inside was a second wicker chair and he carried it over.

    When he plopped down into it, the Traveler was silent, his hands sliding across the moving clay in a surprisingly dexterous dance.

    That wasn¡¯t to say the clay was taking shape into something that could be called pretty. But Marlon did seem to move with confidence at least.

    He watched in silence for a minute, wondering if he would get a chance to watch the man add his magical anchoring. But the vase¡¯s shape was slow to materialize and Terry grew impatient, the thought of his dying farm lingering heavy in the back of his mind¡ªand with it the death of Wichita.

    ¡°Marlon, how do you anchor your anti-fall magic to the pottery?¡±

    He grunted, never taking his eyes off the pottery.

    ¡°What rank is it?¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow in confusion, then realized what he must¡¯ve been talking about. A flush of embarrassment colored his cheeks.

    ¡°It¡¯s still F,¡± he admitted.

    A harsh snort of air left Marlon¡¯s nostrils.

    ¡°Get it to D, then we¡¯ll talk.¡±

    Heat filled his chest, but he kept the anger in check, a low simmer rather than a boiling explosion.

    ¡°Marlon, this is life or death. Please.¡±

    The Traveler shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t do nothin¡¯ about it, uh¡ª¡± He shook his head. ¡°¡ªwhatever your name is. Tammy? Trent? Anyways, System don¡¯t think you¡¯re ready, so you ain¡¯t. Simple as that.¡±

    ¡°How do I upgrade it, then? I use it all the time!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s in the damn Skill description, Tommy. Look it up yourself. I¡¯m busy.¡±

    With that, Marlon released the pedal, letting the wheel come to a halt. He dipped his hands in a bucket of water, then began easing the vase off the wheel with a wire.

    Terry turned away, afraid he would say or do something he might regret. With a sigh, he pulled up the Skill description.

    Affixed Skill: High-Efficiency Matter Transportation (F ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Use aura to part space and create a bridge to another location. Distance and duration of the bridge are dependent on the mass of the entrants and the caster¡¯s mastery of space and aura manipulation.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank, understanding, and aura control increase, so can this Skill.

    He couldn¡¯t fault the man; it was right there in the description. But he had been increasing his aura control and manipulation. It was in the Ds, for Emperor¡¯s sake. Maybe it was the mastery of space part he was missing.

    A flash of aura behind him made him turn in surprise. The newly-shaped vase was sitting inside a makeshift kiln. But it was clear at first glance that there was no heating element, fire, or other form of heat inside to bake the vase. And yet, there was heat emanating from somewhere. He felt, rather than saw, a portal positioned above the vase. The heat was transmitting through the portal! And not only that.

    Reddish-yellow light flickered down upon the vase, casting it in a strange light.

    ¡°What the¡­¡±

    He came around the pottery wheel, his senses extended toward the portal. Marlon was back in his wicker chair, slapping another glob of clay on the wheel, oblivious to Terry¡¯s curiosity.

    As he approached the kiln, his aura began to wrap around the portal. His senses were telling him that this was a bridge between space just like his own Skill he had already learned from Marlon. But that wasn¡¯t possible for two reasons.

    One, Marlon wasn¡¯t actively engaging the Skill with his aura¡ªit simply hung there in space as if it had no owner.

    But two¡ªand more importantly¡ªthe portal was transferring heat and light. Which defied everything he understood about the Skill. Heat didn¡¯t transfer through Terry¡¯s portal, the same way light didn¡¯t. He had tried. Every portal he¡¯d ever created¡ªor seen other Traveler¡¯s create¡ªhad been opaque cuts through space. He¡¯d never been able to see through to the other side. Never felt a breeze enter one side and blow out the other.

    And he¡¯d damn sure never felt heat coming through a portal!

    Objects required force to enter the portals; they didn¡¯t just slide through. He didn¡¯t quite understand the science behind the magic of it all, but he did know that opening a portal into the vacuum of space would drain the entire planet¡¯s atmosphere if that weren¡¯t the case. There was some sort of intentionality required, maybe? A certain weight or force necessary. Some sort of¡­threshold.

    ¡°How¡­how are you doing this?¡± he muttered.

    Marlon grunted casually. ¡°The clay dries in the heat, Tammy. Simple pottery, really.¡±

    Terry was too fascinated to be annoyed by Marlon¡¯s ridiculousness.

    ¡°Not that.¡± He held his hand out, feeling the unmistakable heat emanating from the portal inside the kiln. ¡°How are you getting the heat to pass through the portal?¡±

    He looked back to see Marlon preoccupied with his new vase-in-progress. With a nod, he indicated outside of the shop.

    ¡°There¡¯s a whole pit o¡¯ lava right over there, Timmy. Just creating a small connection between space.¡± Marlon shook his head in disappointment. ¡°The hot gases rise, you know?¡±

    ¡°And the light?¡±

    Marlon flicked his hand toward Terry, bits of wet clay splashing on his shoes.

    ¡°You want instruction, it¡¯ll cost another thirty minutes with the Prime.¡±

    Dismay filled Terry and for the hundredth time, he hoped Silver was alive.

    ¡°He¡­he¡¯s busy,¡± Terry replied softly.

    ¡°Then sit back and watch.¡± Marlon¡¯s glanced up through bushy eyebrows. ¡°You got eyes and an aura, don¡¯t ya?¡±

    The smile on Terry¡¯s face made the man groan and roll his eyes, but Terry was too giddy to care. He turned back to the portal transmitting heat and light in an inexplicable display of mastery.

    And he began to study it like the fate of Wichita depended on it.

 Chapter 52: Upgrade

    ¡°So you¡¯re not using the heat from the lava to power the portals. That much is obvious.¡±

    Marlon scoffed, never taking his eyes off the clay as he pumped the wheel with his foot.

    ¡°Well, you might be, I guess. But that wouldn¡¯t explain the anti-fall enchantment.¡± He studied the Traveler from the corner of his eye, watching for some reaction, any tell that he was getting warmer to the truth. But after almost two hours, there was still nothing. ¡°Though, I suppose you could be using micro portals invisible to my senses to¡ª¡±

    Marlon threw his hands up into the air, sending bits of wet clay spraying in every direction.

    ¡°Enough! Someone save me from this amateurish prattling.¡± He turned an annoyed glare on Terry. ¡°I¡¯m offended by your wildly inaccurate¡ªand frankly lazy¡ªspeculations.¡±

    Terry opened his mouth to reply, but the man cut his hand across the air.

    ¡°No. No more. Open your eyes and observe!¡±

    Terry stifled the smile itching its way across his face and schooled his expression.

    Two fist-sized portals split through the air in front of his face. One had the characteristic opaque surface that he¡¯d come to associate with all Traveler portals. The other¡ªwell, the other blinded him with pure heat and bright light. He raised a hand to cover his face, the heat making him sweat immediately.

    ¡°Are these the same Skill?¡± Marlon asked gruffly.

    ¡°Uh, no¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t guess!¡± the man barked. ¡°Use your damn aura at least!¡±

    Cringing, Terry opened his senses and began feeling out the opaque portal. As he tried to send his aura through, he met resistance and realized this was the exit side connecting to some other entrance portal. So he felt around the edges, mapping the aura signature to the one he had already cataloged. By all accounts, this was the very same Skill he had Affixed currently; he even felt the connection tracing back toward Marlon¡¯s aura.

    He swapped his attention over to the second portal, feeling the heat and light on his skin as he felt the aura with his senses.

    With a start, he realized something right away.

    There was no aura connection tracing back to Marlon!

    His focus sharpened and he ignored the blinding light and stifling heat as he turned everything onto identifying what was different about this portal compared to the first portal.

    At first, he didn¡¯t notice anything unusual except for the fact that this portal defied conventional wisdom on numerous levels. But as his aura traced across its exterior, something did feel off. Almost as if the space displaced by the portal was negligible¡ªa fraction of the second portal hanging beside it.

    He shifted his attention between the two, feeling that difference starkly now that he knew what to look for. The opaque portal cut across the air, injected with continuous power from Marlon as he maintained its existence. While the other felt thinner, a subtle parting in the air rather than the obtrusive, practically overbearing rent in space.

    He did another pass, confirming his observation before speaking.

    ¡°They are the same Skill,¡± he replied with confidence. Marlon arched a brow but didn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°This one just feels barebones, like it''s on life support. Like it might collapse under a stiff breeze. Almost as if you put just enough energy in to open space, then tied it off.¡±

    The Traveler¡¯s lips turned down and Terry feared he had finally worn down the man¡¯s patience with his embarrassing conjectures. But after a moment, Marlon grunted¡ªnot one of his grumpy grunts, but more like a¡­begrudging grunt.

    ¡°But do you know why?¡± He indicated the thinner portal. ¡°The what is the least interesting question. Followed by the how. But the why.¡± Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s the meat of it all.¡±

    Terry bit his lip in thought.

    ¡°There¡¯s two factors that don¡¯t make sense and I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re related to your why question.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°One, this portal¡¯s emitting light and heat¡ªwhich I¡¯ve never seen done before. And that leads me to the second factor, which is the obviously low energy requirement to maintain the portal¡¯s displacement of space.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    Marlon had a curious look to his face now, which emboldened Terry.

    ¡°My guess is¡­this portal would collapse under the slightest pressure. If a mosquito popped inside, it would never reach your shop.¡± A half-smile touched Marlon¡¯s face and Terry felt his heart race as he realized he was on the right track. ¡°You¡¯ve said it before and the Skill description corroborates this. Portals are all about mass. The energy requirement to transport an elephant is higher than a human which is higher than a bug¡­¡± He trailed off, something nagging at this train of thought.

    The mass of a bullet isn¡¯t overly large though. I¡¯ve never seen Travelers catch bullets¡­but was that because they couldn¡¯t or because they were smarter than to try?

    ¡°Spit out whatever you¡¯re chewing on, boy.¡±

    Terry hesitated, expecting that he was about to sound stupid.

    ¡°Well¡­I guess I¡¯m wondering why Travelers can teleport groups of people across the world, but not catch bullets. I would imagine the energy requirements to be much higher for the people than¡­¡± He trailed off as Marlon shook his head.

    ¡°Who says we can¡¯t catch bullets?¡±

    The question shocked Terry silent, his eyes widening as his thoughts suddenly ran wild.

    I can learn how to catch bullets?

    ¡°So¡­we can catch bullets. Then what about a Duelist¡¯s attack?¡± He imagined a series of portals opening across his body as a jerry-rigged portal armor.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say we can catch bullets. Some Travelers¡ª¡± His eyebrows raised skeptically as he regarded Terry. ¡°¡ªsome select Travelers, can¡ªin very specific circumstances¡ªcatch the occasional bullet. But we don¡¯t, if we can help it. Do you know why?¡±

    Terry canted his head to the side in thought. ¡°I suppose¡­because it would be hard to know when and where the bullet was going to hit. The kinetic force would be pretty high, too, meaning you¡¯d need to bulwark the portal with a ton of your aura. You could condense the mass but a bullet moves so fast, maybe you couldn¡¯t.¡± He bit his lip as he considered the possible implications. ¡°Opening a bunch of portals around you wouldn¡¯t work either, because you wouldn¡¯t know which portal to inject your aura in until after the bullet already hit. The higher ranks can probably brute force their portals to be strong enough to absorb a bullet, but not us.¡±

    Marlon scoffed, but didn¡¯t disagree with him.

    ¡°But what does this have to do with this portal?¡± he muttered, indicating the one emitting the heat and light. ¡°The energy of the lava heat I¡¯m feeling right now is pretty intense. Way more than the minuscule energy you¡¯ve injected from your aura¡­¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Marlon was nodding now, waving his hand impatiently.

    ¡°Get there, boy.¡±

    Terry felt a smile touch his face.

    ¡°But light and heat don¡¯t possess mass. Or if they do, it¡¯s unmeasurable to us. Meaning, the aura requirement to pass through a portal is either null or so tiny as to not matter.¡±

    Marlon clapped once, bits of half-dried clay splattering Terry¡¯s clothes.

    ¡°That¡¯s the why! Now explain the how!¡±

    Terry felt infected by the man¡¯s enthusiasm, but had to admit that he was stymied on that part. How was Marlon getting the light to pass through the portal when no one else seemed able to?

    Then, his thoughts flashed back to what Marlon had said earlier.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t want to go, you shoulda just declined the portal.¡±

    There was something powerful in that statement that Terry hadn¡¯t considered. An answer to an earlier question. Why did people and things move through portals, but not air? Opening a portal across two different atmospheric levels would hypothetically create pressure imbalances that would be akin to popping an airlock in space.

    So why didn¡¯t Travelers accidentally kill themselves and everyone around them all the time?

    ¡°You can decide what enters your portal¡­¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°It¡¯s the only explanation.¡±

    ¡°Speak up, boy!¡±

    Terry¡¯s head shot up, his eyes wide. ¡°You can decide what enters your portals! Just like I should be able to use my aura to reject your portal!¡±

    Marlon smiled, then dismissed both portals. With a wave, he summoned a new portal and Terry immediately felt that it was keyed as an entrance.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he agreed. ¡°But how?¡±

    Terry regarded the man, then the portal, knowing what he was supposed to do, but hesitating a moment. He was afraid. Afraid of failing, of disappointing Marlon and missing his chance to unlock this secret. Before his thoughts could spiral, he forced in a deep breath and pushed his aura forward.

    How did one give guidelines to a portal? There must be a trick in the mold, something different that keys to specific things. That was how Skills worked; the shape of the aura dictated the form and capabilities.

    Rolling his shoulders, he settled in, prepared to unravel the mysteries of Marlon¡¯s light and heat portal.

    <hr>

    Four hours later, he found the wrinkle he had been looking for. Without a word, he began splitting space using his Affixed Skill.

    But as he activated the portal, he intercepted the flow of his aura, forcing it to a slightly different mold that he only held in his mind. The guiding aspect of the System Skill resisted for a moment, then relented, shifting into the shape he envisioned.

    His modified portal hung in the air before him, barely larger than his fist, but still opaque. He wasn¡¯t concerned though; he hadn¡¯t connected it to an entrance yet.

    With a second shift of his aura, he split space outside of Marlon¡¯s shop, connecting the two portals with a thin strand of power.

    The first portal before him flashed as an image formed in its center.

    He jumped to his feet and punched the air.

    ¡°Yeah, baby! Let¡¯s go!¡±

    Staring back at him through the portal was a picture-perfect image of the shop¡¯s exterior.

    He turned to Marlon, who had gone back to his pottery hours ago. The man had worked in complete silence as Terry had studied his portal. Now, he looked toward Terry with a begrudging smile.

    ¡°Not bad¡ªfor a copycat.¡± Then he nodded sharply toward Terry¡¯s portal. ¡°But it ain¡¯t finished yet. Your aura¡¯s still tethered.¡±

    Terry nodded, turning back to his work. He had an idea on how to proceed, but it was more by feel than actual know-how.

    Slowly, he began to wind the connected strand of power around the portal¡¯s aura, creating a container to house the magic. With a final twist, he wound off the end in a way that reminded him of Marlon¡¯s own portal, then began to separate the tendril of power from the aura framework. He met resistance, the connection between him and the portal stretching like taffy. With a sharp mental tug, he managed to overcome it, and the connecting tendril snapped back into the larger body of power that was his aura.

    And his portal still hung there, relaying the view from the front of the shop.

    He turned toward Marlon with a triumphant smile, when a notification flashed in front of his eyes.

    Skill upgraded!

    High-Efficiency Matter Transportation (F) upgraded to High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation (E)

    New Affixation slot created ¡ª E-ranked slot

    High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation Affixing.

    The Affixation on his left-hand slot began to morph, altering his aura all along his body. A familiar shifting of his skin and muscles itched at him and he grimaced as the effect began working its way along his being.

    After a few minutes of discomfort, he felt now that he had two E-ranked Skills Affixed to his main aura body¡ªMetal Telekinesis and High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation. The positioning didn¡¯t affect how he used his Skills, but rather dictated how much aura he could inject into the Skill.

    Now that his portal power was Affixed to the main body of his aura, he knew instinctively that the capabilities had increased dramatically. Before, anything big enough for a person had taken him multiple seconds of concentration to open and his maximum distance was barely a hundred meters. With those limitations, he¡¯d mostly restricted his portal use to practicing the Iron Maiden trick he¡¯d used on the sanguine elder and the occasional self-teleport when he didn¡¯t want to be seen entering the Feed Wichita warehouse.

    But now¡­

    Now, he could inject enough aura to move an elephant¡ªno, a group of elephants. And the distance¡ªwell, he didn¡¯t know, yet. But it felt further¡ªmuch further.

    With a thought, he pulled up the newly upgraded Skill.

    Skill Affixed: High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation (E ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Use aura to part space and create a bridge to another location. Distance and duration of the tunnel are dependent on the mass of the entrants, the caster¡¯s mastery of space and aura manipulation, and the caster¡¯s application of an aura framework.

    Note: This Skill is upgraded from High-Efficiency Matter Transportation (F). Further upgrades are dependent on the caster¡¯s rank, understanding, and aura control.

    When he finished reading the description, he turned to see Marlon giving him an appraising look, which he quickly hid with a dismissive sniff.

    ¡°Bout time.¡±

    Terry chuckled, feeling light, giddy with triumph. He stretched his aura, imagining a spot above the lava. He wanted to feel that heat the same way Marlon¡¯s portal had projected it. If he could do this, then maybe he could reach above the Emperor¡¯s working and bring the sun back to Wichita.

    But as he tried to form the entry portal in the location he was picturing, he felt his aura forcibly dissipated. He turned to Marlon, wondering if the man was blocking his working.

    Marlon noticed his accusatory stare and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Let me guess, you tried to make a portal somewhere else in the Pit?¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow. ¡°Yeah. It felt like someone shut it down.¡±

    Marlon shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s an S-ranked Artifact restricting portals to and from the Market. Terraform gave me and my shop an exclusion zone.¡±

    That made so much sense considering Skipper¡¯s betrayal. But Terry vibrated with pent-up energy.

    He wanted to test his new Skill¡¯s capabilities!

    ¡°I gotta get going, Marlon. Hate to copy and dash, but this could be a gamechanger for me.¡±

    Marlon snorted, waving a hand as he turned back to his pottery wheel.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been nothing but a distraction anyway,¡± he replied dismissively.

    Terry chuckled and turned to go, but Marlon cleared his throat quietly and he stopped to look back. To his surprise, the Traveler looked uncomfortable, clearly wrestling with himself over something.

    Turning back fully, Terry waited in patient silence as the man formed his words.

    ¡°You¡­you weren¡¯t a complete waste of time.¡± That seemed to pain him to say and Terry felt a small smile touch his lips. ¡°Come back when you¡¯re ready to learn more.¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t reply for a moment and Marlon flicked his eyes up, only to see the ear-to-ear grin occupying Terry¡¯s face.

    ¡°Thank you, Marlon. That means a lot.¡±

    The man grunted, turning back to his wheel.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go on, get out. I¡¯ve got an entire day¡¯s worth of work to make up for now.¡±

    Terry laughed lightly, waving over his shoulder as he set off to navigate the pottery maze. Then, a thought hit him, and he split space, connecting to directly outside the shop. With what he considered a sort of mental switch, he toggled on the light-transporting capability and stepped through. The energy requirement of his passage pulled at his aura, but once he was through, he began crafting the framework he had discovered with Marlon¡¯s help. With a few moments of work, he was able to tie off the ends of the portals, separating his own aura from the space bridge.

    The crystal-clear image of Marlon frowning towards him transmitted through the portal. Terry knew the portal was only one way and Marlon couldn¡¯t see him, but he waved anyway.

    ¡°Tell the Prime he owes me another session!¡± Marlon called out. His voice didn¡¯t carry through the portal, which was interesting, but echoed out from the shop and into the street.

    Seems like sound is another switch I¡¯ll need to find.

    Then, Marlon cut his hand across the air and both portals were forced shut.

    As exciting as his new capabilities were, Marlon¡¯s mention of Silver sobered his mood. He could only hope his grandfather was alive.

    But there was nothing Terry could do, so he turned his thoughts to Wichita.

    Not only can I bring a permanent source of light to the warehouse¡­I can also create these portals all over the city. I can return the sun to Wichita.

    The only question was¡­would the Emperor allow it?

    That was a fight for another time. For now, he needed to get back to the warehouse before the farm died.

    As he left the alley leading to Marlon¡¯s shop, he spoke aloud to himself.

    ¡°Hey, Terraform. I¡¯m ready to head back.¡±

    Almost instantly, the stone beneath his feet shifted and a rough impression of a face formed. A gravelly voice spoke through the stone.

    ¡°Return to the Pit and I will ferry you across.¡±

 Chapter 53: Decode

    The journey back to Wichita started bittersweet for Terry. Sweet because he felt that he had finally solved not only his farm¡¯s problem, but potentially Wichita¡¯s night problem¡ªand by extension, the tyranny of the sanguine. But as excited as he was to test his new portal capabilities, it was impossible to continue experimenting with Vlad standing five feet away.

    Instead, he pulled out the white rose and the strand of his mother¡¯s hair that he never was without and continued mapping the genetic material to the metaphysical mold. He had been feeling on the verge of a breakthrough for weeks now and that fact that he hadn¡¯t gotten there had started to fill him with frustration whenever he picked the task back up.

    It was because of that that he found himself simply staring at the rose, not quite diving into the task.

    A few minutes passed where he wasn¡¯t actually doing anything and he felt Vlad glance over discreetly. He ignored the glance, letting his mind wander, but couldn¡¯t ignore the second or the third glance.

    ¡°Something on your mind, Vlad?¡±

    The man shifted uncomfortably at being caught staring, but then steeled his nerve and looked over.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering, why are you always staring at that rose?¡± He looked forward, their stone platform continuing to cut through the earth. ¡°Feels like every time I look over, you¡¯re staring at it like it¡¯s the most interesting thing in the world.¡±

    Terry chuckled lightly, masking the pain he always kept buried around the others. This wasn¡¯t the first time someone had asked him about the rose¡ªhow could they not, given how often he had it out? But this was the first time he considered giving an honest answer.

    He didn¡¯t know why, but something about being alone with Vlad, surrounded by miles and miles of stone felt incredibly intimate; like anything said in the confines of this tunnel was sacred.

    ¡°It¡­it was my mother¡¯s.¡±

    Vlad visibly flinched but didn¡¯t turn back.

    ¡°Oh¡­sorry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be.¡± He hesitated, then, the words spilled out before he even realized he had resolved to say them. ¡°It has memories embedded in it. Hers, I think. I¡¯ve been trying to crack it for almost a year now.¡±

    He glanced back, a cryptic expression on his face¡ªsympathy mingled with surprise, it seemed.

    The air felt charged, an awkward energy passing between them, before Vlad spoke.

    ¡°I¡­I lost my mother, too.¡± His voice was low, barely perceptible without Terry¡¯s enhanced hearing.

    He was stunned speechless at the proclamation for a moment, then realized he needed to say something, anything.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that, Vlad.¡± The man grunted, not quite looking back, but angling his head slightly to acknowledge Terry¡¯s words.

    Feeling a chance here to finally bridge the divide between the two of them, he took a chance.

    ¡°How¡­how did you lose her? If you don¡¯t mind talking about it,¡± he quickly added.

    Vlad stood statue-still, only his aura visibly shifting to Terry¡¯s senses. Emotions raged beneath that surface, but they were impossible to decipher.

    As Terry opened his mouth to pull back the question, let Vlad off the hook, the man broke the tense silence, his words clipped.

    ¡°You know I was exiled from Moscow?¡±

    Terry gaped in surprise for a moment, too stunned for the moment to realize he was supposed to respond.

    ¡°Uh, Flore¡­had mentioned something.¡±

    The mention of Flore pulled at his heart but he focused in order to give Vlad his full attention.

    The man nodded, his back still turned to Terry as he parted stone before them.

    ¡°My father¡­¡± Raw heat injected his voice. ¡°My father had her killed¡­to make room for his new bride. When I¡­protested, he had me exiled. They had a new son, so I wasn¡¯t¡­needed.¡± He said the word with a strange inflection, as if he were echoing back something he had heard.

    The silence hung for a moment and Terry didn¡¯t rush to fill it. After a few seconds, he spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Vlad. That¡¯s terrible.¡±

    He shrugged in a casual way that belied the raging torrent of emotions playing across his aura.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive. Gaining in power.¡± His voice dropped low, sounding almost like a promise to himself. ¡°One day, I¡¯ll be an S-ranker and he¡¯ll have to acknowledge me. Then¡­he¡¯ll pay.¡±

    He stirred, glancing back with a surprised look as if he hadn¡¯t meant to speak out loud.

    ¡°I hope you do, Vlad,¡± Terry replied, locking eyes with him.

    The man turned fully to look back at Terry, searching his face as if wondering if Terry were mocking him. When all he saw was Terry¡¯s earnest expression, he nodded once, then turned back to focus on the tunnel he was forming with his aura.

    Thinking the conversation over, Terry turned back to the rose, when Vlad spoke up again.

    ¡°What about your mother?¡± he asked. ¡°How did she die?¡±

    Terry hesitated a moment, wondering how to explain the situation. Vlad mistook his pause as reluctance and quickly added, ¡°You don¡¯t have to¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s not that¡­I¡¯m just¡­¡± Terry sighed, rubbing at his face. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if she¡¯s dead¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Vlad said, a hint of surprise in his tone.

    ¡°There was a sneak attack of neighboring supers,¡± Terry added. ¡°She fought them off while I was taken away. We¡­never saw her again. No body, nothing.¡±

    Vlad didn¡¯t reply for a moment and Terry wasn¡¯t inclined to push for a response either way. A few seconds passed before Vlad turned back.

    ¡°I hope you find her, Terry. I really do.¡±

    He nodded, feeling his eyes drawn toward the rose pinched between his fingers. ¡°Thanks, Vlad. Me, too¡­¡±

    A natural silence followed and neither said anything as they continued their journey through the earth. Terry¡¯s thoughts felt jumbled, disordered, so he turned his attention back to the rose.

    He lost track of the time as his mind traced over the genetic material, referenced his mental mold, and connected the two with a flex of aura and intent. So he had no idea how much time had passed when his mind stumbled over the genetic mapping and ran out of material to identify.

    A notification flashed in his vision and he stared at it in utter shock, not believing his senses until he had re-read it multiple times.

    Metaphysical cipher decoded.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Genetic material mapped.

    [The White Rose] Quest Updated

    1 of 4 White Roses decoded.

    Decode and enter memory lattice?

    The realization finally hit him and he gasped. His lungs felt constricted as he considered that notification looming in his vision.

    Decode and enter memory lattice?

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Vlad asked.

    Terry stared wide eyed for a moment before registering the man had spoken.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked slowly, glancing up from the rose. ¡°Oh, I¡­I cracked it. Her memories¡­they¡¯re in there, waiting for me to relive them¡­or something.¡±

    The stone platform came to a grinding halt and Vlad was by his side in a moment, regarding the rose in awe.

    ¡°Well? What are you waiting for?¡± Terry glanced up in shock at that question. ¡°What? You¡¯ve been working for months to crack this, right?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­yeah.¡±

    Vlad waved toward the rose. ¡°The answers might be right in there! Are you really going to wait a second longer?¡±

    Vlad¡¯s words shocked Terry into that realization.

    The answers might be right there¡­

    He suddenly realized why he hesitated. Fear¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid.¡±

    Vlad pulled back, pursing his lips as he nodded.

    ¡°I get that. But there¡¯s no turning back now, right?¡± His eyes took on a far off look. ¡°If it really has your mother¡¯s memories, can you imagine?¡± He flinched in surprise, a chagrined expression on his face. ¡°Sorry, this is personal. I shouldn¡¯t inject my opinion.¡±

    Terry waved away his concern, hiding the fact that his gut was twisting into knots.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re right. I¡­I have to know.¡±

    Vlad nodded, returning to his position at the front of the platform.

    ¡°Do you want me to hold us here. We¡¯re still about an hour away but¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Terry replied quickly. ¡°I¡¯m ready to get home. I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll work while we move.¡±

    The platform rumbled, stone grating on stone as Vlad¡¯s aura flexed.

    With the man partially distracted with his work, Terry felt slightly less self-conscious about the decoded rose in his hands. He regarded that notification once more before biting his lip and steeling his nerve.

    With a thought, he accepted and felt his mind drawn into the rose, leaving his body behind like an empty shell.

    Sensations dimmed, his mind swirling inside a vortex of memories as if he were ringing a drain. Then, sight returned and he found his disembodied mind drifting in a colorless void. Beneath him, a series of golden balls of light arrayed in a line like a string of pearls. On one side, the light was dim, then incrementally brightened the further along the line he went. Instinctively, he recognized the dimmer ball of light serving as the oldest memory, while the other end held the freshest.

    He regarded the string of memories and decided to start at the logical choice¡ªthe beginning.

    With a thought, he focused his intent on that dimmest ball of light and felt his mind drift toward it lazily.

    The nearer he came to it, the faster he moved, until it felt like he were falling into the light at a free fall.

    When he crashed into it, a scene began to resolve before him. Sun flashed across a paved street, birds flitted across the sky, and buildings sharpened into focus as his mind approached from above.

    With a start, he realized it was Wichita he was hovering over. It had been so long, he hadn¡¯t recognized it in the daylight.

    Another shock took him as he neared a cluster of people below. Three people walked on a nearby trail, the shade of the trees originally blocking them from his view.

    He felt himself instinctively pulled toward those three people, his body shifting toward one of them in particular.

    The owner of the white rose.

    The three figures grew clearer as he was right on top of them and his mind blanked as he recognized himself flanked on either side by his mother and father. The three of them were holding hands, which surprised him; he couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d held his father¡¯s hand.

    But as he was nearly on top of them, he realized that the Terry below was much younger¡ªprobably six or seven. The younger him was laughing with youthful abandon as his parents both counted to three and swung him through the air. His feet kicked at nothing before he came back down to the ground.

    A sense of melancholy filled him as he watched the scene. But he was pulled from the raw emotion as he felt himself about to inhabit the memory-bearer¡¯s body. He watched his mother, bracing to enter and witness the memory from her point of view. But he was shocked as the trajectory carried him past her and into little Terry¡¯s body.

    Before he could acclimate to the switch up, he was fully inhabiting his younger self, seeing the surrounding trail from his eyes. More than that, he felt his mother¡¯s palm in his left hand, cool and soft to the touch. In his right hand, he felt his father¡¯s rough, calloused hand rubbing against his own soft skin in a way that probably bothered him at the time, but felt so comforting to current Terry.

    The air was cool, but he felt a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, his legs aching as if he had been running a few minutes before. He glanced up at his mother, his heart aching at the sight of her beautiful face, the easy smile on her lips.

    ¡°Can I run ahead?¡±

    It was his own voice, he realized. Higher, that of a child, rather than his own puberty-infected voice.

    His mother chuckled, shaking her head lightly.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you tired yet?¡± she asked in fake exasperation.

    ¡°Nuh-uh!¡± he replied.

    She looked to James, raising her eyebrows in question. Her smile never waned as she looked toward his father and he felt the love in that gaze. He felt a sort of vindication in seeing that his parents had loved each other¡ªat least, at the time of this memory.

    Younger Terry flipped his gaze over to his father, pulling lightly on the man¡¯s hand in the way that he was convinced would get his father to agree. James grinned back at his mother before nodding.

    ¡°Burn all that energy, kiddo.¡±

    Terry ripped his hands from their grip almost before James finished the sentence. He was tearing down the trail in an instant.

    His mother called after him. ¡°Stay where we can see¡ª¡±

    A terrible sound caused Terry to flinch in surprise. Thunder cracked the air, echoing over him for multiple seconds. When it ended, he found himself crouched behind a tree, cowering in fear.

    Younger Terry was covering his ears, his gaze glued to the tree bark. But older Terry recognized that sound, knew what that thunder had represented.

    Terry finally recovered his senses and looked over toward the safety of his parents¡­only to see both of them on the ground.

    He screamed out and James cut his gaze over, shock and anger coloring his face. Terry¡¯s heart pounded so hard he could barely think. He raced from the cover of the tree, his little legs eating up the distance in moments.

    James yelled something back at him, but his terror was his entire existence, his sole goal to find the safety of his mother¡¯s arms.

    But as he neared, he realized slowly that something was wrong. His father was screaming at him now, his face a mask of desperate fury. The words solidified in his mind as he stared in horror at the scene before him.

    ¡°Stay back! Terry, get back, goddammit!¡±

    ¡°Mo-mom¡­¡± His eyes swapped between his parents, not understanding what he was seeing. ¡°Mom, get up!¡±

    But his mother didn¡¯t get up. She lay on her back, red staining her dress and pooling beneath her. A hole three fingers wide was punched directly into her chest¡ªthe entry wound for a bullet, older Terry realized. But younger Terry was hysterical, his lungs struggling to catch his breath as he hyperventilated.

    ¡°D-d-dad! W-wh¡ª¡±

    James wrapped Terry up in his arms, stroking his hair with blood-soaked hands as he turned away from his mother.

    Terry¡¯s mind recoiled from the memory on instinct, pulling him away from his younger self.

    How? he thought. She was dead, it was painfully obvious. But how¡­

    The only possible solution hit him like a punch and he staggered in the colorless void as he rose above the strings of memory.

    He took a few moments to gather his chaotic thoughts, then regarded the memories floating below him. There were dozens strung together and he knew he would need to comb through them all; if not to piece together the truth of his mother, then at least for himself. He¡¯d never be able to rest easy knowing there were memories¡ªhis memories¡ªhidden inside this rose.

    But he couldn¡¯t go back to that first memory¡ªnot right now. The image of his mother laying in a pool of blood was too much. He moved to the second memory, praying it was less graphic.

    As he drifted down toward that bead of light, his bedroom materialized before him. It didn¡¯t quite match up with his memory¡ªdifferent posters lined the walls, toys for a younger Terry strewn about the floor. But it was undeniably his room and he felt his anxiety peak as he considered what dark secret this memory hosted.

    He fell into his younger self, finding himself face down on the bed, tears and snot coating his face. His throat felt hoarse from crying and he clutched at his pillow as a fresh round of tears took him.

    A soft knock sounded at his door, startling him. His voice didn¡¯t have the strength to respond, but he wouldn¡¯t have even if he could.

    A moment later, he heard it open softly and he turned away, both embarrassed by the snot coating his face and angry that whoever was there had come in anyway.

    But as a soft hand touched his shoulder, he flinched; there was a familiar tingle to that touch. He whipped his head up.

    There was his mother¡¯s face staring back at him, her skin pallid, her cheeks hollow. But there was no denying it, that was his mother¡¯s face.

    She smiled softly, tears slipping from her eyes.

    ¡°Hello, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°Mom!¡± He threw himself into her arms, not caring for a moment that her skin was colder than usual. He pulled back, looking up at her. ¡°Mom, I-I saw y-you¡­¡±

    She stroked his hair, pulling him back in.

    ¡°Shh, shhh now, Terry. Everything¡¯s fine. Everything¡¯s gonna be fine¡­¡±

    He ripped himself from the memory, from the rose entirely.

    Would you like to remove accessed memories and re-encode?

    The notification hung heavy in his vision and he blinked blindly at it for a moment. Then, he indicated no with a thought.

    There was no way I¡¯m giving these memories back, no matter how horrible. The awful truth is too important.

    Mom had been a revenant¡­

 Chapter 54: Infiltration

    Terry reeled in shocked silence for a time, his brain having trouble processing this revelation. Stone whipped past them, but his eyes were unfocused, his mouth dry, his heart threatening to burst from his chest.

    How? It¡¯s not possible. Yet¡­there was the ring of truth in those memories. I¡­felt them.

    Vlad glanced back, somehow sensing his turmoil.

    ¡°Terry?¡± he asked hesitantly. Then he noticed the lost look in Terry¡¯s eyes and the platform screeched to a halt. ¡°Terry! What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    His gaze slowly drifted up toward Vlad¡¯s, a numb feeling washing over his body and mind, like he was lifting up and outside of his body.

    A few seconds passed before Terry could process the question.

    ¡°She¡­she was a revenant.¡± His voice was soft, barely a whisper, and Vlad leaned in, furrowing his brow in confusion.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    He looked down at the rose in between his fingers.

    ¡°She was a revenant.¡±

    Vlad squinted, coming over to crouch beside Terry.

    ¡°What do you mean? Who?¡± Then, he seemed to realize the implication and reared back in surprise. ¡°Wait. Your mom?¡±

    Terry looked up slowly, his thoughts mired in mud. Then, he nodded.

    ¡°How is that possible?¡± Vlad asked. ¡°How¡­¡± He trailed off, realizing Terry¡¯s state. ¡°Are you¡­okay?¡±

    Terry considered that question for a moment.

    Am I okay?

    He felt his mind rebooting at the question, the thoughts beginning to pick up speed as a hunger began to form deep inside.

    ¡°No,¡± he replied with a shake of his head. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± He glanced back at the rose, his eyes narrowing. ¡°But I will be¡ª¡± He cut his gaze back toward Vlad, feeling that fire stoke inside of him. ¡°¡ªonce I get some answers.¡±

    The man bit his lip in obvious trepidation, but after a moment, he nodded once.

    ¡°Okay, do what you need to do. I¡¯ll¡­be here if you need someone to talk to.¡±

    Any other time, Terry would have been touched by that sentiment. But right now, he felt laser focused on the rose clutched tightly in his fingers.

    He dived back in without a word, feeling his mind sucked back into that colorless void.

    The string of memories danced before him and he considered the dozens of beads with a sudden bout of hesitation.

    What kind of horrors are trapped in these memories? Can they be worse than watching my mother die right before my eyes?

    Did it matter how bad they were? I need to know.

    Steeling himself, he moved to the third memory in the line, letting his mind fall into it.

    The sounds of yelling hit his ears even before he had completely inhabited younger Terry¡¯s body. He found himself leaning against a door, two familiar voices echoing through the thick wood.

    ¡°James!¡± his mother shouted. ¡°Please!¡±

    ¡°No, dammit! It¡¯s one thing to warp his mind¡ªhe¡¯s a kid. But I¡¯m your husband! I love you no matter what¡ª¡±

    The sound of something crashing against the wall made him flinch.

    ¡°Bullshit! I see the way you¡¯ve looked at me since. It¡¯s different¡ª¡±

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s different, Pen! You¡¯re dead!¡±

    Silence reigned for a handful of moments and younger Terry held his breath to try and hear better.

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯m sorry, Pen. I didn¡¯t mean that.¡±

    Sobs echoed through the door and Terry felt his heart flutter in pain.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re right!¡± his mother cried out. ¡°I am dead. I should have stayed dead! I¡¯m just prolonging the pain¡ª¡±

    ¡°No. No! I agreed to this knowing what it meant. Your son needs you.¡± His voice shifted low, so low Terry almost missed the next words. ¡°I need you.¡±

    Another silence followed and Terry pressed tighter to the door. As he moved, his foot scuffed against the floor and he froze in fear.

    ¡°Oh my God!¡± his mother¡¯s voice called out. Footsteps pounded and Terry thought to flee. But before he could muster up the courage, the door was ripped open. ¡°Terry!¡±

    The memory ended and he was pulled back into the void.

    He regarded the memories beneath him, a picture beginning to form in his mind. It was obvious now that this wasn¡¯t some farce or mental trap or something he had misinterpreted. His mother had been a revenant and for years, too.

    The hunger intensified, taking him over completely. With barely a thought, he dived into the next memory, consuming it entirely. Then the next. And the next.

    By the time he had consumed the final memory in the string, he had witnessed himself growing up from a young boy of six or seven, to a teenager. And it was clear that this rose had been reserved entirely for him and his memories, each of them resolving into a scene wherein he had somehow stumbled upon the truth of her in some way.

    In one memory, her shirt had slipped down, revealing the bullet hole that still centered on her chest. In another, they stumbled upon the scene of her murder years later and a cold sweat had formed on his skin. She had preemptively taken away those memories and resolved to never bring him back down that trail.

    On and on the memories went. Little slips of the tongue, or glimpses of the bullet hole, or Terry asking questions that had been a bit too on the nose.

    Years of deception and memory theft, all laid out in the strings of light contained inside this rose.

    When he finally pulled up and out of the memories, he felt like a drowning man gasping for air. He cast about, disoriented and unclear where he was or even what age he was.

    Then, a hand landed on his shoulder and he clasped onto it desperately.

    ¡°I¡¯m here. It¡¯s okay, Terry. You¡¯re safe.¡±

    For a moment, he thought he was trapped inside a memory within the rose, his mother¡¯s phantom comforting him for the hundredth time after he had discovered the truth.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    But then, the surroundings resolved in his eyes and he looked up to see Vlad staring down at him, his face pinched with concern.

    Reality came slamming back into focus and he slowed his breathing to reclaim some control over both his body and his mind.

    When his heart had settled and his lungs no longer felt like they were being strained dry, he nodded toward Vlad to let him know he was okay.

    ¡°Thanks, Vlad. That was¡­intense.¡±

    ¡°No problem. You¡­you sure you¡¯re good?¡±

    Terry let out a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m good. I¡­¡± The notification from before flashed inside his vision and he dismissed it with a thought. Disjointed memories streamed into place, scrambling to reclaim their rightful positions within his mind. It was like they had never been taken and his entire life shifted, refocused in a new light.

    A realization hit him, sapping his spirit, poisoning the memory of his mother.

    ¡°My mother¡­she was manipulating me the whole time,¡± he muttered. Glancing up at Vlad, he let out a dark chuckle. ¡°I always loved holding her hand. There was a subtle tingle whenever our skin touched.¡± That feeling was so familiar to him, so precious in his memories. Now, it was tainted; evidence of the magic she had used to keep him ignorant and in the dark. ¡°I realize now that she was using her powers on me constantly. Altering my perceptions so I never noticed she was actually dead. There were so many tells, but she wiped them all from my mind¡­every second I was around her.¡±

    Vlad¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± He trailed off, shaking his head.

    ¡°Fucked up?¡± Terry offered. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±

    He finally took in his surroundings, realizing that they were stopped in a tunnel.

    ¡°How much longer?¡± he asked Vlad.

    ¡°We¡¯re here, actually. I was just waiting for you to come out before¡­¡± He shrugged. ¡°Thought maybe you didn¡¯t want the others to see you.¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°Thanks, Vlad.¡± He held out a hand. ¡°Can you help me up?¡±

    He rose shakily to his feet with Vlad¡¯s help, trying to force his limbs to wake up.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m good.¡± He considered having the Elementalist ferry them into the warehouse, but realized that he really didn¡¯t feel like being around the others. Not right now, at least. ¡°Can you drop me near the palace? I¡­need some time to think.¡±

    ¡°Sure, Terry.¡±

    Though it was true he didn¡¯t want to be around others right now, it wasn¡¯t because he needed time to think.

    No, the only thing on his mind right now, the one thought consuming him entirely, was the Quest that had started this all.

    And I know where at least one other White Rose is¡­

    <hr>

    As he strode through the palace halls, his mind felt like a tempest, his thoughts never stopping to consider what he was about to do. Only a need existed there, a need for knowledge, for answers.

    He didn¡¯t know what he would do if Mesmer was in his office. The idea of having to turn around and wait for the revenant to clear off was unfathomable. He was going to retrieve that rose right now, even if he had to bypass the palace¡¯s spatial restrictions in order to teleport it from right beneath the man¡¯s nose.

    When he neared Mesmer¡¯s office, two familiar ghouls were perched outside per usual.

    He paused at the sight, finally taking a moment to strategize. There was a distinct possibility that even if Mesmer was not inside his office, the ghouls would still turn him away. But there was a chance he could override their concerns, lean on his status to bluff his way inside.

    But first, he needed to determine if Mesmer was out or not.

    Hiding around the nearest corner, he began to feel with his senses. He knew from past experience that whatever Artifact blocked Travel within the Palace was strong, but not strong enough to stop Silver. The one time he had tried himself, it had felt like trying to push his hand through a blanket.

    But he was stronger now and his Skill was at the E-grade. There was a chance he could penetrate that protective film coating the palace. Transporting himself might be difficult. But creating a tiny peephole to observe the office? That sounded much more doable.

    With a flex of aura, he felt the fabric of space around him. Like before, it was thicker than usual, resisting his efforts even to perceive it, let alone penetrate it. But he had observed Marlon for hours and his understanding had improved dramatically since his last attempt.

    He didn¡¯t try to force space apart like he usually had before. Rather, he coaxed it open, leaning on the conceptual ideas he had learned from Marlon. Space wasn¡¯t a series of pockets to be split apart and pieced together. It was one and it could be tricked into transposing itself within the framework of his aura.

    Reaching across that conceptual plane, he felt the revenant¡¯s office in his mind¡¯s eye. He used his aura to create a sympathetic point in space, one piece of the puzzle that would become the portal entrance. Tracing a line back over that spatial plane, he then coaxed space into a familiar shape¡ªjust a small opening, no bigger across then his fist. With a subtle flick, he shifted that switch that would let light through, then solidified both ends of the aura framework.

    A quiet whoosh filled the air as it was subtly displaced.

    And projecting through the portal before him, was a top-down view of Mesmer¡¯s office. He let out a silent whoop, then began peering through it. The angle was narrow, only revealing the couch and a part of the floor.

    Utilizing his aura once more, he altered the two portals, grasping the framework in his mind and extending them outward incrementally. The view grew wider to match, until he had an unobscured portal looking out over the entire office.

    Mesmer was nowhere to be seen.

    He considered creating a new portal and swapping the entry and exit points so he could simply walk into the man¡¯s office. But he could feel intuitively that even though he could create a portal past the space-restricting Artifact, he was much less confident he could bolster that portal enough to transport the rose, let alone his mass.

    Light was one thing, mass something different entirely.

    Guess I¡¯ll just have to bluff my way past.

    Releasing his aura¡¯s hold on the portals, he steeled himself to talk to the ghoul guards. A few deep breaths helped steady both his heart and his aura, and then he was around the corner, walking at a brisk pace.

    The ghouls noticed him quickly, their auras flicking out in greeting, though they didn¡¯t turn visibly. He returned the greeting, then shaped his aura in the form of a polite request.

    ¡°Mesmer asked me to wait in his office. We have another session planned.¡±

    The ghouls¡¯ auras fluctuated, though their faces remained impassive. One of them shaped his aura in response¡ªa tentative form of doubt.

    ¡°Pardon, my prince. But no visitor when Mesmer gone. Very strict rule.¡±

    Terry very purposefully kept both his breathing and his aura steady. Then, he shaped it into the form of polite insistence.

    ¡°I understand. He mentioned you would say that. But he told me to tell you to make an exception this one time.¡± He forced a good-natured chuckle out. ¡°What am I gonna do? Deface one of his books?¡± He let his aura shift into a humorous shape, hoping the two ghouls would buy it.

    Their auras clearly interacted, a cautious hesitation passing between them. But after a moment, he felt them turn their attention back, their auras shifting back into a casual state.

    ¡°Yes, my prince.¡±

    He had to resist the raw panic that tried to infuse his beating heart as he nodded and moved past them. Once he was inside, he fled away from the door, afraid they would feel his panic through his fluctuating aura.

    But after a few moments, when it became clear they wouldn¡¯t burst in and yank him out of Mesmer¡¯s office, he let a feeling of triumph settle over him.

    I¡¯m in!

    He did a slow turn, taking in the familiar office before locking his eyes on the rose resting on the shelf. It looked so mundane beneath its glass covering¡ªa simple memento of Mesmer¡¯s friendly relationship with his mother.

    But the secrets contained within that memento pulled at him and he rushed over, his hand resting on the handle of the glass cover. For a moment, he wondered if his nerve would fail him, those tempting secrets also eliciting a feeling of terror deep within his heart.

    No, he resolved. I need to decode this rose. The answers to all my questions lie at the end of this Quest and this is just a stepping stone to that end.

    The White Rose was in his hand suddenly and he felt its aura sympathize with the other White Rose tucked safely away in his jacket pocket. With a start, he realized that he had been feeling that connection through his aura subconsciously, even from a distance. He had dismissed it, thinking it was just the rose in his pocket. But now he knew that he had been sensing Mesmer¡¯s White Rose from all the way down the hall.

    Being able to sense the White Roses would make finding the other two easier¡­he hoped.

    A notification appeared in his vision as he regarded the rose with his aura.

    [The White Rose] Quest Updated

    2 of 4 White Roses acquired.

    Metaphysical cipher recognized.

    Decode and enter memory lattice?

    He let out a sigh of relief as he realized he wouldn¡¯t have to redo his analysis of the other roses. With a thought, he decoded the rose and entered that familiar colorless void.

    Immediately, he recognized stark differences in the string of memories appearing below him. Rather than the golden balls of light forming a string of memories, Mesmer¡¯s appeared as violet vortexes swirling within that void.

    But more shocking than that, was how many there were. At first glance, he saw at least a hundred violet vortexes signaling memories.

    A confusing mix of trepidation and excitement filled him as he regarded them. Part of him wondered why Mesmer had so many memories stolen on purpose. He remembered the revenant had claimed they were the misdeeds of a previously villainous life. But still, he was overwhelmed by the sheer number.

    Another part of him felt excitement. There had to be answers buried somewhere in these dozens and dozens of memories. Otherwise, why would his System Quest guide him to decoding every White Rose?

    Realizing he was procrastinating, he focused his mind, targeted the very first memory in the string of violet vortexes, and dove in.

 Chapter 55: The Puppet

    As he approached the first swirling vortex, he felt pulled along as if by the tide washing into shore. The scene materialized beneath him¡ªa dark alley buried in garbage, the moonlight illuminating it just enough to show two men.

    His perspective dipped from above, angling for one of the men¡ªMesmer. He was younger, barely older than Terry, his clothes reminiscent of an era nearly a hundred years past. The other man was older and much larger, and it was clear at first sight that he was approaching Mesmer with violent intent.

    As Terry¡¯s perspective neared, he didn¡¯t find himself pushed into Mesmer¡¯s body like with his own memories and instead found himself perched nearby as an outside observer.

    The larger man was pressing deeper into the alley, corralling Mesmer into the dead end. And as Terry watched, horror filled his entire being.

    The man was unbuttoning his pants.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fight me, boy or it¡¯ll be worse.¡± His words slurred and there was a slight stumble to his gait, but the size difference more than made up for that.

    Younger Mesmer was wide eyed, clearly vibrating with adrenaline and terror in the dim moonlight. His back hit the far wall and he whipped his head around in surprise. The man came closer, a lecherous smile on his lips, his hands reaching out tentatively as if approaching a cornered animal.

    Terry almost pulled out of the memory right then and there. The implication of what he was witnessing was too terrible to watch. But as he readied to pull his mind away, Mesmer flipped open a pocketknife and with a strangled cry, rammed it into the man¡¯s gut.

    His attacker let out a gust of breath, as if he¡¯d been punched. When he looked down at the knife stuck four inches into his belly, he growled in anger. Before he could react, Mesmer pulled the blade out, then rammed it home again with a sobbing scream.

    Then again. And again.

    He rode the man¡¯s body to the alley floor, stabbing over and over again as he cried terrible tears.

    Terry pulled his mind away, the shock of the violent murder affecting him even without the sensations of his body.

    He found himself floating above those violet vortexes, his thoughts having difficulty processing what he had just witnessed.

    It wasn¡¯t that he blamed Mesmer¡ªthe man had clearly been poised to attack him in the worst possible way. What had him reeling was that this was the first memory in a line of a hundred. How many were like this? Just what kind of life did Mesmer live that he had been forced to kill a man as a young teenager?

    He held off from diving into the next memory, preparing himself for another scene just as brutal as the first. But after a few minutes, the urgency of the moment urged him forward; Mesmer could arrive and catch Terry in the act at any moment.

    The second vortex waited and he jumped into the memory with a desperate courage.

    It was daytime and the young Mesmer didn¡¯t look much older than the other memory. There were three other teenagers with him and they were herding a younger boy into a similar alley in a twisted transposition of the first memory.

    Horror dawned on Terry like a white-hot torch had been pressed to his mind. He prayed with everything in his being that that was where the similarities ended.

    He prepared to pull back from the memory, refusing to witness something so brutal and callous. But as the scene evolved, he was relieved¡ªin a sick way¡ªto see that Mesmer and the older boys simply robbed and beat the younger one, leaving the kid unconscious but alive and otherwise untouched.

    The third memory wasn¡¯t much better. Neither was the fourth.

    He whipped through Mesmer¡¯s brutal childhood, learning that the man had been an orphan during the Great Depression, scrapping and robbing to survive. As the memories shifted into early adulthood, the methods grew more sophisticated¡ªthough just as deplorable.

    Mesmer was a conman, a grifter, and the occasional mugger.

    When Terry witnessed the first memory of Mesmer¡¯s time fighting in World War II, he had to abort it prematurely. Skipping along, he found that the bulk of the middle memories were reserved for that terrible time.

    He skipped dozens of memories, until they finally shifted into late adulthood, where Mesmer spent much of his life in prison after attempting to rob a bank. He had murdered a hostage when the police caught him and they had locked him up and thrown away the key.

    Then, the Call happened, and the man gained the superpowers that eventually came to define him. There was no memory explaining how he escaped prison, but Terry could imagine in the chaos of the Call, it wouldn¡¯t be too difficult for a Hypnotist.

    Terry went into this stage of the man¡¯s life praying superpowers were the catalyst for a change; that Mesmer realized the error of his ways and turned over a new leaf.

    Unfortunately, the reality was much bleaker.

    With his Hypnotist powers, the schemes and cons from his pre-prison days became trivial. Terry watched as Mesmer coerced, manipulated, and often compelled others to do his bidding. He made women fall in love with him, then dumped them by the wayside when they eventually bored him. He compelled bank tellers to rob their own banks, then let them take the rap when they were caught. And when push came to shove, he murdered those that he couldn¡¯t compel.

    He was only two-thirds through the memories when it became too much. The man that he had admired, considered a friend and mentor, was not this man. His perception of Mesmer was entirely poisoned and he felt an aching hole in his chest at the loss.

    Pushing past the history of violence and cold manipulation, he shot forward to the end, homing in on that latest memory added to the rose. He resolved to live that last memory, then leave this rose and never come back. If that didn¡¯t satisfy the stipulations of the Quest, well¡­

    He just had to hope it did.

    The last memory revealed another dark alley¡ªa common theme in Mesmer¡¯s life, it seemed. The man himself looked older, very much like he did right now, which filled Terry with trepidation.

    This memory is recent, he realized.

    As the scene resolved further, Terry spotted movement at the alley mouth. Mesmer was waiting just inside, clearly in anticipation of this other person¡¯s arrival. The darkness was pervasive and at first Terry couldn¡¯t see who had joined Mesmer.

    Then, a dim light flashed into existence, a magical torch perched in the second person¡¯s hand.

    The shock of that face staring back at Mesmer, eyes unfocused as if in the grip of his hypnotism, was too much for Terry. He immediately ejected from the memory, his thoughts twisting like a leaf in the storm.

    No¡­no, no, no.

    It couldn¡¯t be. The memory had to be falsified, doctored in some way. His mind refused to accept the implication of what he was seeing.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    After a few moments of stark denial, it became abundantly clear¡ªhe needed to see what came next.

    He reluctantly returned to the final memory in the string of vortexes, his perspective diving back into that dimly lit alley.

    Flore¡¯s face was under lit by the magic in her palm, revealing the look of someone in the grips of complete infatuation.

    Her voice broke the silence, a shy reluctance in her tone.

    ¡°I don¡¯t usually do this, but I don¡¯t know¡­there¡¯s just something about you¡­¡±

    Mesmer gave a sad smile, nodding his head in a knowing way.

    ¡°I understand completely. Come closer, love. Let me get a good look at you.¡±

    She smiled sheepishly, stepping into the alley as she brightened her magic.

    ¡°You¡¯re stunning,¡± Mesmer breathed, running his hand along her cheek. The sadness was unmissable in his voice. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    Her face scrunched in confusion.

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡±

    A sickening crunch filled the alley as Mesmer reached up and violently twisted her neck. The shock registered on her face at the last second, her eyes wide as she slumped lifelessly to the ground.

    That last look of horror was immortalized on her features, her mouth agape, the whites of her eyes uncomfortably visible.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Mesmer whispered.

    Then, he began staging her corpse in the exact way Detective Kramer had described to Terry. He forced himself out of the memory, unable to witness a second more.

    He didn¡¯t know for how long he hung there in that colorless void. His mind felt short circuited, his thoughts unable to coalesce into anything past pure horror.

    A feeling of betrayal permeated his entire being, shocking his mind into a static state that refused to function properly.

    Then¡ªafter some unmeasurable amount of time¡ªthe rage began to rise.

    You son of a bitch¡­you goddamn son of a bitch¡­

    Every fiber of his being wanted to rip away from the rose, hunt Mesmer down, and end him with all the powers at his disposal. If he took the man by surprise, he might even be able to do it.

    But beneath the violent urge, the red-hot rage threatening to consume him, was a core of cold iron. An ice-cold foundation that crystallized into a dispassionate and calculating thread that permeated his thoughts.

    From that cold-iron core stemmed a few realizations. One, Mesmer had staged the murder of Flore to implicate the sanguine. Two, Flore wasn¡¯t chosen at random, implying that Mesmer knew about Feed Wichita¡ªthough he might not necessarily know of Terry¡¯s involvement.

    But more importantly than all of that, was the final realization¡­

    Mesmer was the puppet. And there was only one man capable of pulling his strings.

    With that realization stemmed another: I need to see more¡­

    He leaned upon that cold-iron core, steeling himself to dive back into the horror of Mesmer¡¯s memories. Once he was back above those swirling vortexes, he moved to the second-to-last memory and dove in.

    He immediately recognized his grandfather¡¯s throne room. The man himself sat upon his throne, plain-clothed and without his scythe or bone mask. Kneeling before him were both Mesmer and Whipvine and Terry could tell right away that the two revenants were in the midst of an argument with the Emperor.

    ¡°Can we not pick someone else?¡± Mesmer was asking. ¡°I can find some deplorable murderer and¡ª¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t work and you know it.¡± The Emperor¡¯s tone was more casual than Terry had ever heard, though there was a thread of weariness weaving through it. ¡°The light Elementalist¡¯s death will serve us two-fold. We¡¯ll cripple my grandson¡¯s operation and turn him against the sanguine in a way that no common death would.¡±

    Those words stabbed into Terry¡¯s mind, but before he could process the information, Whipvine was speaking.

    ¡°Let¡¯s skip all this political play! Send me, Fletcher, and Patricia into Blood Alley. The sanguine will be rooted out by the morning!¡±

    The Emperor slammed his fist on the throne, his face twisting in rage.

    ¡°How many times have I told you! I can¡¯t be seen going back on my word with the suckers! It¡¯ll cripple my reputation in the Underworld.¡± He took a deep breath, knuckling his eye for a moment before looking up. ¡°They need to be seen as making the first move. By killing Terry¡¯s Elementalist, we can spin it as an attack on Terry himself. And if I know my grandson, he¡¯ll force a confrontation, allowing us to step in and evict the sanguine.¡±

    No one spoke for a few tense moments, then Mesmer sighed heavily.

    ¡°I understand that, Terrence. But I only ask one thing: don¡¯t make me to do this. Please. Send Fletcher to deal with the girl.¡±

    Terry was surprised to hear the sadness in his grandfather¡¯s voice when he replied.

    ¡°Sebastian, my old friend. I appreciate how hard you¡¯ve worked to put your past behind you. But you and I both know that Cillian is a blunt instrument and possesses none of the finesse required to pull this off. If I were to ask him to stage her body, he¡¯d put a bullet in her head and call it a day.¡± He sighed, shaking his head softly. ¡°I¡¯m afraid this is a job only you can complete.¡±

    Terry watched as Whipvine flashed Mesmer a worried glance. The Emperor sat stone still, waiting for the revenant to speak. When he did, it was with steel in his voice.

    ¡°Then I request that you compel me. I do not agree to this, nor do I want this on my conscience.¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s scars danced as his eyes went wide. In contrast, the Emperor¡¯s narrowed, a look of anger passing over his face before he set his lips.

    ¡°Fine. If it¡¯ll absolve you of your guilt, I will.¡±

    Aura lit up from the Emperor, encompassing Mesmer¡¯s completely.

    The memory ended as the compulsion took hold.

    Terry didn¡¯t dive into the next memory, needing a minute to process what he had just witnessed.

    It didn¡¯t surprise him to see how ruthless his grandfather could be¡ªit only confirmed what others said about the man. But what did surprise him was Mesmer¡¯s ultimatum to the Emperor. Regardless of what either man said, it didn¡¯t absolve the revenant in Terry¡¯s mind¡ªnot by a long shot. In fact, the more he considered it, the more he believed it to be evidence of Mesmer¡¯s cowardice. The entire string of memories were evidence of that. A string of choices made by a weak and amoral man who couldn¡¯t dare to face the consequences of his actions. Who hid the painful truths inside a magical rose rather than face them head on.

    A feeling of disgust engulfed him and he ejected from the rose entirely.

    [The White Rose] Quest Updated

    2 of 4 White Roses decoded.

    As he returned to his body, the notification didn¡¯t ask if he¡¯d like to remove the memories, which surprised him. Perhaps that only worked when the rose held his memories.

    He regarded that rose clutched between his fingers, feeling the disgust shift into a sense of loss. Mesmer was not the man he had thought he was. His grandfather had proved himself a terrible bastard. Even Whipvine had known about the plot to murder Flore.

    There are no heroes in Wichita, he realized. Only a cold-hearted bastard scrabbling to maintain his tenuous hold onto the power he has. And the slaves who serve him.

    I will be that hero. But every second I remain in this palace, I¡¯m complicit.

    I can¡¯t stay here a moment longer.

    He turned for the door, resolved to leave the palace for good, but froze in shock as he came face-to-face with Mesmer.

    The revenant had a sad look on his face, as if understanding that he had just lost a friend.

    ¡°You¡¯ve finished, then?¡± he asked quietly.

    Terry felt the white-hot fire rise, threatening to eclipse that cold-iron core. But he forced in a deep breath and tamped the fire down, letting that ice spread through his veins.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough. After the first couple dozen, I skipped around, thinking to salvage some scrap of respect for you.¡± He shrugged, shaking his head. ¡°You can imagine how that went.¡±

    Mesmer had a pained expression on his face, but Terry didn¡¯t feel a hint of sympathy for the man.

    ¡°Did you watch the final memory?¡±

    There was an undertone to that question that put Terry on guard. He tensed, understanding the implication of Mesmer¡¯s powers.

    ¡°You plan on raping my mind like you¡¯ve done to so many others?¡±

    Mesmer reared back, his aura fluctuating erratically. Terry felt his body react, anticipating Mesmer¡¯s power washing over him to steal everything he¡¯d learned in the past hour. But instead, the revenant¡¯s face simply dropped, his eyes glistening as if tears were beginning to form.

    For some reason, that angered Terry more than anything else.

    ¡°Save your goddamn tears, Mes. Either wipe my mind or get the fuck out of my way!¡±

    He stirred his own aura, not content to let the memories go without a fight, despite his words. But Mesmer didn¡¯t react, didn¡¯t reach out to try and invade Terry¡¯s mind. The tears slipped free and he stepped back, shaking his head.

    ¡°No, Terry. I won¡¯t fight you. I love you like my own son.¡±

    Terry scoffed, preparing his aura to activate a Skill.

    ¡°You¡¯re a coward, Mes. It¡¯s too late for you. But it¡¯s not too late for Wichita. You may be content watching it wither and die, but I¡¯m not!¡±

    With a finesse fueled by pure hate and determination, he coaxed space apart, feeling it react like it never had before. The portal split the air before him with a quiet whoosh and he felt the accompanying exit portal form in his bedroom across the palace.

    Without saying another word, he stepped into the portal and emerged inside his bedroom.

    A notification appeared before him, but he felt empty inside as he read it.

    Skill upgraded!

    High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation (E) upgraded to D-rank.

    Error. No appropriate Affixation slots available. Capping Skill to E-rank. Rank up to unlock an appropriate Affixation slot.

    His body betrayed him, tears slipping free from his eyes. He shook his head angrily, sending them flying as he grabbed a bag and began shoving clothes into them.

    He couldn¡¯t stay here a second longer. He was leaving the palace.

    For good.

 Chapter 56: Quest Updated

    He grabbed the bare essentials: couple days of clothes, some socks, and underwear. As he turned for the bathroom to grab his toothbrush, his eyes caught on the wraith-glass remote on his desk. His grandfather had given him his own after his father left for Topeka and the two of them had been using it to correspond ever since.

    His heart began to race as he stared at the device.

    Ice cold, Terry. Stay ice cold¡­

    Picking up the remote, he activated it and keyed in his father¡¯s device. The square piece of glass on his desk flickered as a blue-white spirit materialized across it. An image fuzzed for a moment before resolving into his father¡¯s face.

    ¡°Terry?¡± he asked in surprise. ¡°Everything alright?¡±

    He examined the lines of his father¡¯s face, the subtle wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the dark hair tinged with grey. It was a face he had re-learned to love, fighting past all the anger to rekindle a relationship with the man who had abandoned him after his mother¡¯s death.

    Now, his anger eclipsed that love and he had to remind himself once more.

    Ice cold¡­

    ¡°I did it, dad.¡±

    James raised his eyebrows in question. ¡°Did what, kiddo?¡±

    ¡°I cracked her roses.¡±

    His father¡¯s face dropped, his brow furrowing with confusion. Terry waited patiently for the silence to burst.

    ¡°What do you mean, cracked?¡±

    He kept his face placid, pleased to feel his heartbeat was steady.

    ¡°Just that, dad. I learned the truth about mom. That she was a revenant¡ªhas been for years. That she¡¯d been manipulating my memories since I was a kid.¡± His father¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Tell me, dad, was the Emperor controlling her the entire time? Was it even her choice to steal my memories or was that him?¡±

    James¡¯ eyes darted around frantically as if looking for a way to come through the wraith-glass personally. His tone was panicked, his eyes wide with terror.

    ¡°No one controlled her, Terry! We did it to save her¡ª¡±

    The fire rose up, too hot to quench.

    ¡°I¡¯ll never be able to believe a word you say!¡± he shouted. Stay cold, Terry. Don¡¯t give him the satisfaction. He forced in a deep breath, then stared steadily at his father through the wraith-glass. ¡°I¡¯ve already seen the memories in my rose and Mesmer¡¯s. I know there¡¯s two more. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s yours¡­and mom¡¯s.¡±

    The panic crescendoed in James¡¯ eyes, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

    ¡°Terry, listen to me very carefully. Whatever you do, do not enter your mother¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Terry cut the connection, feeling empty, more alone than even after his mom¡¯s death.

    You don¡¯t get to tell me what to do¡­not anymore.

    He started to prepare a portal out of the palace; there was nothing else here for him. But then, his father¡¯s last words rang out in his head.

    Do not enter your mother¡¯s¡­

    Had he been about to say rose? But his father had the last two roses, didn¡¯t he?

    His eyes went wide as he realized what the man had let slip. His mother¡¯s rose was accessible, possibly even somewhere nearby!

    Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he marched from the bedroom, extending his senses out as wide as he could. He had the roses¡¯ signatures now and had sensed Mesmer¡¯s from quite some distance. Maybe, he could do the same for his mother¡¯s own rose.

    Messages came in from his father over System chat, but he ignored them.

    He was on the hunt.

    The palace was big¡ªfar too big to search¡ªbut this wasn¡¯t something his father would have just left lying around. The most unlikely location was also the most likely.

    He strode down the hall, heading for where his parents¡¯ suite was located. His senses ranged, feeling for that familiar signature as he neared.

    When he reached the door and tried to open it, he found it locked tight. With a flex of his aura, he parted space and stepped through to the other side.

    The interior of his parents¡¯ suite was much the same as it had been eight months ago. Furniture covers had been placed back over the couches, the blinds were pulled closed against the eternal night, and the air was dusty, stagnant.

    His eye caught on a Monopoly piece forgotten on the carpet floor and his heart clenched in pain. The memory of that final goodbye before his father left for Topeka stabbed at him; such a beautiful memory, now tainted with his recent revelations.

    He pushed that pain down, focusing back on his aura. Ranging it across the suite, he felt for a sympathetic energy, a resonance to the rose still tucked away in his jacket pocket.

    Pushing deeper into the suite, he went to the door leading to the bedroom. It was also locked, but this time, he didn¡¯t bother portaling to the other side. Instead, he simply lifted his foot and kicked the door in. Wood splintered easily under his E-grade physique and he strode past the threshold.

    That was when he felt it.

    Energy pulsed in his senses, drawing him toward the far wall where a painting hung. It intensified as he neared and he ripped the painting down, revealing a large safe inset into the wood. His palms began to sweat as he realized the truth.

    I actually found it¡­

    Creating a small pinprick portal, he examined the interior of the safe. He gasped at what he saw.

    Resting on a velvet pillow was not one, but two White Roses! He released the small portal and created a new one, just big enough to fit his hand through. Reaching in, he felt that familiar tingle on his fingers as he gripped the first rose. Once it was connected to him and his aura, he was able to pull it back through, even though the portal was typically one way. Placing it gently inside his backpack, cushioned by his set of clothes, he reached in and gripped the second rose lightly.

    As he began to pull it through, the sound of keys jostling at the suite entrance made him flinch. In a rush, he shoved the second rose beside the other, released his portal and looked for a place to hide. For a moment, he wondered if there was time to portal out, but the door was swinging open before he could think to activate his Skill.

    [The White Rose] Quest Updated

    4 of 4 White Roses acquired.

    The sound of stomping boots heralded Whipvine¡¯s arrival, the man stopping to gape at the threshold of the smashed bedroom door. His eyes flicked up to the safe behind Terry, then back.

    Terry felt his blood rise at the sight of the man and he crossed his arms.

    ¡°What are you doing, son?¡± His tone was light, but there was an undertone of accusation to the question.

    Which really pissed Terry off.

    ¡°Getting to the truth, Whip. Nobody seems interested in giving it for free, so I¡¯m taking it.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    His eyes narrowed, the scars twisting in a way that would have pinned Terry in place, had him squirming like a worm on a hook, once upon a time. Now, he just returned the stare defiantly, letting the man feel his raw contempt.

    ¡°And what truth, exactly, is that?¡± Whipvine asked with a hint of hesitation.

    Terry scoffed, rolling his eyes. ¡°Spare me, Whip. I know she was a revenant.¡± He stepped toward the man, his hands falling to his side, clenching into fists. ¡°And so did you!¡±

    Instinct guided him now, his fist rising up to smash into the revenant¡¯s jaw. Whipvine reeled back in surprise, but Terry was on him, a left hook coming in hard and fast and textbook-perfect¡ªjust as the man had taught him.

    Whipvine steadied himself, a trickle of blood dripping at the corner of his mouth.

    Terry hit him again and the man simply took it, his head snapping back.

    ¡°You knew!¡± he shouted, sending another fist crashing into Whipvine¡¯s gut. The man flinched, but otherwise didn¡¯t react. ¡°You always knew!¡± He sent an uppercut flying toward Whipvine¡¯s jaw, staggering the man a couple steps back.

    Whipvine¡¯s stoicism broke, his face contorting in pain that wasn¡¯t due to Terry¡¯s assault.

    ¡°I was forbidden!¡± he said with desperate energy. ¡°I was forbidden, son!¡±

    Terry¡¯s rage peaked, a raw growl escaping his throat. He charged Whipvine, punctuating each word with a strike.

    ¡°Don¡¯t. Call. Me. That!¡±

    Whipvine was on one knee now, even his A-ranked physique suffering under Terry¡¯s rage-fueled attack.

    He stepped back, heaving for air, his fists bloodied and aching from hitting the man¡¯s hardened body.

    ¡°If you really loved me, you would have found a way!¡± His voice broke, the tears finally slipping free. ¡°He should have found a way¡­¡±

    ¡°To do what?¡± Whipvine asked frantically. ¡°She was taking your memories the entire time, Terry! Anything we could have done would have been nothing in the face of her power!¡±

    Terry turned away, his rage spent, his voice weak.

    ¡°Did you even try¡­?¡± Silence reigned and he had his answer. Turning back, he shook his head. ¡°Why are you here, Whip?¡±

    The revenant shakily rose to his feet, his eyes flicking to the safe once more.

    ¡°Your father called me, more panicked than I¡¯ve ever seen him. He begged me to stop you.¡± Whipvine couldn¡¯t hold Terry¡¯s gaze, his eyes trailing to the carpet. ¡°What¡­what¡¯s in those roses are dangerous, Terry. There¡¯s a reason those memories are locked away.¡±

    Terry scoffed, bending down to put his backpack on his shoulders.

    ¡°The truth will set you free,¡± he muttered, turning back to Whipvine. There was a questioning look in the man¡¯s eyes as they continued to flick toward the safe. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Whip, as you can see, I didn¡¯t have time to break in.¡±

    He moved past the man, clutching his backpack straps tight.

    ¡°Terry¡­¡± Whipvine called from behind him.

    He looked back, a sad smile on his face.

    ¡°Goodbye, Whip.¡±

    He turned away before he could see the man¡¯s reaction, leaving the suite and moving quickly down the hall. When he was around the corner, he focused his aura and split space again. It parted easily, the restriction on the palace only clamping down on those coming in, not those going out.

    Tears slid down his face as he stepped through and arrived in the warehouse office.

    He wiped them away angrily, ashamed that he cared so much. They had been lying to him his entire life. They obviously didn¡¯t care enough about him to find a way to tell him the truth, so why should he care about losing them? He wasn¡¯t losing them, he realized, because he¡¯d never had them.

    His life had been a lie.

    Turning away from those painful thoughts, he regarded the dim warehouse through the office windows. He could see the others racing to put up new lamps, hear Tania¡¯s voice calling out instructions, and little pockets of light sprang into existence as Tristan did his best to fill Flore¡¯s shoes. But it wouldn¡¯t be enough.

    Thankfully, Terry finally had a solution.

    He wiped his face one more time to clear away the evidence of his tears, then strode out of the office to the warehouse floor.

    Tania saw him approaching and hurried over.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shitshow, Terry!¡± Her voice echoed across the warehouse floor. ¡°Even with the new lamps from Terraform, we¡¯re lacking coverage on¡­¡± She trailed off as she neared, her eyes narrowing. Lowering her voice, she asked, ¡°Are you¡­are you okay?¡±

    He nodded, looking away. ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t want to talk about it right now.¡± Then, he turned back, focusing on the one thing he could control right now. ¡°I had a breakthrough. Can you bring Tristan over?¡±

    She squinted at him for a moment, obviously torn on whether to push him about whatever was bothering him. He preempted her with a sigh.

    ¡°Tania¡­please. I swear we¡¯ll talk about it later. For now, let¡¯s just handle this. Okay?¡±

    She pursed her lips, clearly considering an argument. But after a moment, she nodded and he breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to grab Tristan, then spun around quickly, her finger under Terry¡¯s face.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think you can just push me off. Something¡¯s obviously wrong and I¡¯m gonna get to the bottom of it eventually.¡±

    Then she whirled around and strode across the warehouse toward where Tristan was struggling to light up a section of plants.

    Terry rolled his eyes at her back, though he felt a spark of happiness kindle inside his chest. Though she could be a pain, her pushy demeanor only proved how much she cared about him, and he needed that reminder, now more than ever.

    When she returned with Tristan in tow, the Elementalist had a harried look in his eyes.

    ¡°Terry, I can¡¯t do it.¡± His voice was thick with emotion. ¡°I¡¯m just not strong enough. I¡¯ll never be strong enough¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Tristan. Take a breath.¡± Terry put his hand on the man¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got the answer to our problem, but I need your guidance.¡±

    Tristan furrowed his brow in confusion.

    ¡°Check this out,¡± Terry said, reaching for his aura. He stretched his senses far¡ªas far as they could go. Up they went, high into the air. When he felt like he had gone far enough, he created a small portal and activated the light-emitting switch with a flick of his aura.

    As it formed, he felt his face drop. Only inky black came through the portal. He let it go with a sigh.

    ¡°Uh, Terry¡­¡± Tania started, but he held up a hand.

    He stretched further this time, his senses straining, his aura feeling thin. Another portal formed with a flick of intent.

    Light invaded their senses, streaming through the portal like liquid gold. He tied it off, turning back to the two of them with a giddy laugh.

    ¡°It works!¡± he shouted, wrapping a surprised Tristan in a hug. ¡°It actually works!¡±

    Tania was double taking between him and the portal, her mouth wide with surprise.

    ¡°What the hell is that!¡± she demanded.

    ¡°That, dear Tania, is a light-emitting portal positioned thousands of feet into the air!¡±

    Tristan was trailing his hand through the sunlight filtering into the warehouse, collecting it with his aura, then tracing it through the air in watercolor patterns. A boyish grin filled his face as he looked at Terry.

    ¡°It¡¯s real sunlight!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Not artificial! How? How are you doing this?¡±

    Terry shrugged casually. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s a portal. It¡¯s reaching above the Emperor¡¯s working.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re an Alterant!¡± Tristan said in disbelief. He turned to Tania and bumped her shoulder. ¡°He is an Alterant, right?¡±

    That was when Terry noticed the look on her face. Shock, hurt, and betrayal all mingled together.

    He bit his lip, feeling like a total idiot as he realized how casually he had displayed a power that she had so desperately yearned for, but hadn¡¯t yet received.

    All her life, she¡¯d dreamt of becoming a Traveler like her dead mother. Instead, she¡¯d failed her first attempt at Awakening when she¡¯d turned fourteen. They both knew that not everyone Awakened right at that age, but the reality that she might never Awaken had begun to set in. She¡¯d handled the disappointment as well as anyone could. But Terry had never considered how much his powerset would affect her emotionally.

    Perhaps he had realized on some level, considering he had never explained exactly what he could do to her. As far as she knew, he was an Alterant who manipulated metal and he had never confided in her the truth. Silver and his father had impressed upon him just how dangerous a secret his powerset was, and he had leaned on those warnings as an excuse to keep it to himself.

    She masked the hurt quickly, a pained smile forced onto her face.

    ¡°Wow, somebody¡¯s been keeping secrets.¡± She said the words playfully, but there was a bitterness to her tone that she couldn¡¯t completely hide.

    ¡°Tania¡­¡±

    She shrugged a bit too casually, and Terry felt his chest pang as he realized that he had done to Tania what Whipvine had done to him.

    I¡¯m such a hypocrite¡­

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Terry. I¡¯m fine. I think it¡¯s amazing you can create portals. We¡¯ll have to add that to the list of things you gotta explain to me.¡± She arched a brow. ¡°But for now, this is more important.¡±

    He studied her face, wondering if there was anything he could say or do to fix the hurt he had caused. But before any solution came to him, she was waving toward where Alan and Peter were working on some lamps.

    ¡°I better check on them. You and Tristan got this?¡±

    He nodded, forcing a smile on his face. ¡°Yeah, we got this.¡±

    She nodded once, then strode off.

    Terry turned back to see Tristan frowning as he interacted with the light.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Tristan coalesced the light from the portal, manipulating it like thread from a loom. Terry marveled at the man¡¯s control, his eyes widening as the light took on unnatural properties.

    ¡°It¡¯s too much,¡± Tristan said, indicating the thread of light he was holding with his aura. ¡°Most of our farm isn¡¯t resilient enough for this level of UV. I¡¯m guessing this light¡¯s origin is two miles high¡ªor more.¡±

    Terry frowned with confusion. He understood what UV was, but usually in relation to getting a sunburn.

    ¡°What does that mean for the farm?¡± he asked.

    Tristan shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not usable.¡± He let his hold on the light go. ¡°It¡¯ll hurt the plants more than help. I could probably offset it a bit¡­but I¡¯m not certain.¡±

    Terry¡¯s shoulders slumped, a feeling of defeat washing over him. Had it all been for nothing?

    He turned away, the anger of the day threatening to overcome him. This couldn¡¯t be it. There had to be a way to filter the light somehow.

    His head shot up as he remembered the Skill he had copied from Sol. With a thought, he pulled it up.

    Skill Cataloged: Light Shift (D)

    Use aura as a filter to shift the wavelength of light across the electromagnetic spectrum.

    Error. No appropriate Affixation slots available.

    This was it! This was what he needed! But how could he Affix the Skill to filter the light? His eyes went wide as a crazy thought hit him like a gut punch. He pulled up his Quest, a mad grin filling his face.

    Quest Given: [Create a Skill]

    Create a new D-grade or higher Skill OR hybridize two cataloged Skills into a new D-grade Skill

    Reward: D-rank

    He turned back, his lips set with twisted determination. Tristan unconsciously reared back, clearly made uncomfortable by the manic look on Terry¡¯s face.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna be fine, Tristan.¡± He started for the office, needing the privacy to begin experimenting. ¡°Just give me a few hours!¡± he called over his shoulder.

    Then, to himself, he muttered, ¡°D-rank¡­here I come.¡±

 Chapter 57: Revelations

    Light streamed in through a fist-sized portal, bright and beautiful and pure. It had been so long since he¡¯d felt the touch of its heat on his skin and he took some time just to bask in it.

    He had to force himself to snap back into focus, only affording himself that indulgence for a few minutes.

    All of Wichita was depending on what he hoped to accomplish here.

    Tying off the portal as Marlon had taught him, he turned his attention to the cataloged Light Shift Skill. No matter how he tried to force the issue, the System wouldn¡¯t let him Affix the D-ranked magic. But there had to be a solution.

    It was right there in his Quest; he was tasked with creating or hybridizing a new D-rank Skill. Which meant it was possible for him to create something more powerful than his current rank.

    His portal Skill was a prime example of the System artificially downgrading one of his abilities. Though he had upgraded it to the D-rank, the Affixation was still active, purposefully capped at the E-rank.

    With those two facts, the conclusion was obvious. He had the capability to work with his D-ranked Light Shift, even if he couldn¡¯t Affix it at its advertised rank.

    A thought was all it took to bring the cataloged Skill into focus. The genetic and metaphysical mold appeared in his mind, forming a latticework, a template, that would eventually shift his aura into an Affixation.

    But he wouldn¡¯t let himself worry about those limitations. If he¡¯d learned anything from Marlon, it was that the use of aura was both flexible and powerful outside of what was evident on the surface.

    More than that, the System appeared to actively handicap supers and their use of aura. Almost as if it preferred when Awakened were reliant upon its frameworks, rather than discovering new uses themselves.

    He considered the System he had met during his Awakening, wondering for the hundredth time just what their endgame was. They had claimed there was a shadow war for the future of Earth being waged by the various Wakers. But if this was war, then why limit your soldiers? Why not actively guide them toward this versatility Marlon had perfected?

    He supposed they did, in a sense. At least one of his active Quests was dedicated to advancing his rank and increasing his power. But it was so rigid, so unhelpful.

    Create a new D-grade Skill? Really?

    Even the simplest of instructions would have advanced his efforts by months.

    But none of that mattered now, because Marlon had awoken him to the possibilities of auras and their frameworks. He now understood that the Skills didn¡¯t need to be followed rigidly, that there was an ocean of variance in the way he configured his powers.

    He turned his entire being toward the framework of Light Shift. He studied it¡ªnot the rote memorization like when he had first cataloged it¡ªbut really studied it. He looked for similarities in the structure, synchronicities between his other Skills, folds and patterns that obviously served a purpose.

    Once he felt that he had the mold firmly entrenched in his mind, he turned to the portal still streaming light at his side. He ran his senses over the portal framework, feeling its folds and patterns, looking for similarities, but also inverse positions. Areas where the two aura frameworks could be folded together.

    It was slow, mentally grueling work. Each time he thought he had found a synchronicity, he had to forcibly shift his aura to recreate the matching component from his Light Shift mold.

    At first, he was met only with failure. The framework frayed when he altered it, the portal fizzling as it lost its structure.

    Hours passed before he hit on his first sign of progress.

    A section of the Light Shift framework that he had mentally dubbed area seven, section two, had slotted into the portal framework without degrading the entire structure. His mind felt numb from the fruitless hours and he almost didn¡¯t recognize the success as he moved on to try something else.

    But then, his focus snapped back, recognizing that the portal framework was undeniably altered, yet still stable.

    He let out a wild whoop and redoubled his efforts, searching the Light Shift mold for another section to slot into the portal framework.

    Another hour passed and his excitement grew.

    Sections of Light Shift had been grafted onto the portal framework, until nearly all of his cataloged mold was accounted for in this new paradigm. He could feel it¡ªthe new Skill was nearly finished.

    But as he was scouring the framework for the last few slots, a commotion on the warehouse floor pulled him away from his work.

    He moved over to the office windows and was shocked to see the warehouse floor ripped open like a can of sardines. Tania was shouting up toward him in a panic as the others raced over toward the gaping maw torn into the concrete floor.

    Bursting from the office, he sprinted the hundred feet to her, his eyes going wide as he came around the stone that had been blocking his view.

    A pool of blood spread out before him, growing visibly with every passing second.

    And lying in that pool of blood, was Vlad.

    ¡°What happened!¡± Terry shouted, crouching beside Tania, his sneakers slipping in the blood.

    She held her hands to his throat, trying in vain to stem the flow from his neck. Her eyes were wild, panicked as the blood slipped between her fingers. Before she could answer, Vlad¡¯s hand snapped out, gripping Terry¡¯s wrist tightly.

    ¡°Sanguine¡­¡± His voice was weak, in contrast to his grip. ¡°Ambushed¡­outside.¡±

    It took a moment for his mind to process those words, but when they did, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Crunch was standing over him, his aura flickering in acknowledgment. He loped off across the warehouse, preparing to hold the doors.

    ¡°Tristan!¡± Terry called. ¡°Get ready to use your light!¡±

    The Elementalist ran over, his face scrunched in confusion.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Terry ignored the question, reaching up toward the sky. It took him a few moments to send his senses high enough, but when he reached what he felt was his maximum range, he began forming a portal with his aura.

    He forced the portal wide¡ªwider than he ever had before. It stretched, straining his aura as it sucked more and more power from him. When he felt he was at his limit, he mentally hit the light switch¡ªas he¡¯d come to think of it¡ªand they were suddenly bathed in brilliant golden sunlight. He tied off the portal and turned back to Vlad.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    He almost asked if the man was positive it was the sanguine and not some trick by his grandfather. But before the words could leave his lips, he realized just how fleeting Vlad¡¯s life was.

    ¡°Stand back,¡± he ordered, bursting to his feet.

    Reaching out his hand, he began to coax space apart for the second time, focusing on Dr. Wong¡¯s office. Even yesterday, the distance and the spatial-locking Artifact would have made the feat impossible. But Terry could picture that location so clearly and his relationship with space had taken leaps and bounds in the past day.

    With enough effort to nearly make him faint, he managed to stabilize the portal into the Emperor¡¯s palace.

    ¡°I¡¯m taking him to the doctor.¡± He bent down, hoisting Vlad into his arms. Tania held the pressure on his neck until the last second as Terry carried the dying man through space.

    As soon as they cleared the portal exit, he let it drop and began to shout.

    ¡°Dr. Wong!¡± He turned in a circle, searching for the man. ¡°Dr. Wong! We need you!¡±

    But no one answered.

    In a desperate rush, he sent the doctor a System message, but the man didn¡¯t immediately reply.

    Racing to the door, he wasted precious moments trying to grasp the knob with Vlad in his arms, then growled in rage and simply kicked it down. As he raced out of the office and into the hallway, two ghouls turned, their auras flaring in surprise.

    When they noticed Terry, one of them immediately loped away to fetch help. He silently thanked their quick action, but knew Vlad only had minutes, if not seconds.

    He looked down to see the man¡¯s eyes closed, the urgent flow of blood slowing as his life trickled away.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he shouted. He sent another System message out to one of the few men he trusted, despite their recent altercation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Whip! I need you! Where are you!

    </blockquote>

    The reply came back almost immediately.

    <blockquote>

    [Whipvine]: Throne room. What¡¯s wrong?

    </blockquote>

    He didn¡¯t reply, instead parting space so suddenly and violently that his ears popped.

    As he leapt through, he found himself in his grandfather¡¯s throne room.

    ¡°Help!¡± He turned in a quick circle. ¡°Anyone! Help!¡±

    The sound of pounding feet moving with superhuman speed made him whirl around. Whipvine burst into view, his eyes wide as he took in the bleeding man in Terry¡¯s arms.

    In a flash, he dashed over faster than Terry could follow, pulling Vlad away and racing to the back of the throne room. A shocked daze took over Terry¡¯s mind and he followed as fast as he could, not quite understanding where Whipvine was taking the man.

    When they rounded the throne¡¯s dais, he noticed the two large doors hanging open at the back of the room. He burst past the threshold, taking in the sight in an instant.

    It was a war room of sorts¡ªone he¡¯d never seen before. Inside, there was a large circular table, big enough to fit ten chairs or more.

    Whipvine had laid Vlad down on the table, holding his hands to the wound.

    And standing beside him, were Mesmer and the Emperor.

    ¡°Terry?¡± his grandfather shouted in surprise. ¡°What happened! Who is this?¡±

    He was stunned silent for the moment, unable to process the sight of his grandfather after everything he had recently learned. But then his eyes snapped back to Vlad, unconscious and clearly on death¡¯s door.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Dr. Wong?¡± he asked, rushing over to help. ¡°We need the doctor. Now!¡±

    The Emperor shook his head sadly, glancing down at Vlad. ¡°He¡¯s deep in the Catacombs. It¡¯ll take too long to fetch¡ª¡±

    ¡°Where!¡± Terry demanded, his body vibrating with the need to act.

    When his grandfather didn¡¯t immediately answer, Terry turned and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, injecting all the anger and need he felt into his voice.

    ¡°Where?¡±

    The Emperor regarded Terry¡¯s hand clutching him, his lips pursed with displeasure. But Terry felt his own eyes burning, staring so deeply into his grandfather that the man seemed to feel that he would take this all the way if needed.

    ¡°Tenebrous tried to take his own life. He¡¯s administering aid¡ª¡± He cut off as Terry turned and began to split space.

    Terry didn¡¯t have the exact location sharply in his mind, but he could get close enough. He felt the connection solidify, then the portal whooshed open.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡ª¡± The Emperor turned a shocked gaze to his grandson. ¡°That¡¯s not possible¡­¡±

    Terry ignored him, preparing to jump through, when Whipvine¡¯s hand gripped his arm tight.

    He looked down at that hand with unbridled rage.

    ¡°Let go, Whip.¡± His voice was low, full of latent threat. He prepared to re-liquefy his ball-bearing bracelet, form razor-sharp blades to slice at the revenant, when he noticed Vlad on the table.

    He was dead.

    Terry broke Whipvine¡¯s grip on his arm with a shove, stumbling to the table. He put his fingers to the man¡¯s neck, then leaned his ear over his mouth. There was no mistaking it, he had been too late.

    His mind went numb and he turned away, letting his body slump against the table.

    Whipvine was saying something to him, but he wasn¡¯t listening.

    There was no denying it, this had been the sanguine retaliating for Terry¡¯s invasion of their home. For saving that family they had been preparing to eat. He had considered another setup by his grandfather, but the three conspirators were here. And the Emperor had said it himself, War Crimes didn¡¯t have the finesse for a setup.

    As much as he might have wanted to shift the blame to them, Vlad¡¯s death was on him. His arrogance had gotten the man killed.

    He had invaded their home, but they had invaded his first. No, he corrected, they had been invited in.

    With a flick of his aura, he dropped the portal leading into the Catacombs and shot to his feet, whirling on his grandfather. The man was staring at him, his green eyes searching Terry with confusion and open curiosity. But Terry had no interest in sating that curiosity, his anger flaring so bright he thought it might burn him up from the inside.

    Despite that intense heat, his voice was low as he spoke to his grandfather.

    ¡°Bring him back.¡±

    The Emperor simply shook his head.

    ¡°I cannot.¡±

    Terry snarled, slamming his fist on the table.

    ¡°Bring him back! I know you can make another revenant.¡± He pointed to Vlad¡¯s corpse. ¡°So turn him.¡±

    ¡°Listen to my words, boy,¡± the Emperor said quietly. ¡°I. Cannot. Six is my limit. Nor would I waste my power on someone so weak¡ª¡±

    Micro portals split the air near his right hand, parting space with tiny pops. Liquefied metal shifted into six-inch blades, flying through the portals and appearing around the Emperor¡¯s head. They pressed in tight, so tight that if the Emperor even flinched, he might impale himself.

    One blade hovered a quarter inch from the man¡¯s open eyeball.

    ¡°Terry! No!¡± Whipvine shouted.

    Mesmer looked on, wide eyed in shock.

    ¡°Listen to my words, grandfather,¡± Terry spat. ¡°Turn him or I¡¯ll skewer your damn eye from your¡ª¡±

    Aura blasted out in a wave, so dense and powerful that it rattled Terry to his very core. His control over his portals, his grip on the tiny blades, his very hold on his thoughts, were torn away in an instant¡ªlike a flashbang on his mind.

    He staggered back, unable to see or shift his aura for a moment. When he came to, blinking away the overpowering sensation and coming to his senses, he felt a cold press of something sharp against his throat.

    Looking down, his eyes traced over the bone blade, down the blackwood scythe, and up to the man gripping the deadly weapon. An ivory mask of bone covered his grandfather¡¯s face, embers burning bright in his eye sockets.

    ¡°How dare you,¡± the Emperor growled.

    Terry held his arms out to the side, pressing his neck tight against the blade.

    ¡°Do it,¡± he whispered, locking his eyes on those burning embers. ¡°Do it! Kill me now. Because I refuse to live another second under your rule!¡±

    Mesmer stepped forward, his hands held out in a placating gesture.

    ¡°Please! Everyone calm down. You are family. There¡¯s no need to¡ª¡±

    ¡°To what, Mes?¡± Terry demanded. ¡°There¡¯s no need to fight?¡± He laughed bitterly. ¡°That¡¯s all my grandfather¡¯s been doing, is fighting me. His draugr nearly killed me last year. He murdered Flore to sabotage my farm and trick me into doing his dirty work. And now Vlad¡¯s dead, killed by the sanguine he invited to Wichita.¡± He pointed an accusatory finger at the Emperor. ¡°He is my enemy and I am his.¡±

    The Emperor snorted, dematerializing his scythe and mask with a flash of aura.

    ¡°You¡¯re not my enemy, Terry.¡± His eyes looked down upon his grandson, full of contempt and dismissal. ¡°You¡¯re too insignificant in the grand game to be my enemy.¡±

    Terry laughed at that, a full-throated laugh that echoed his grandfather¡¯s contempt.

    ¡°I¡¯m insignificant?¡± Terry nodded, pursing his lips. ¡°Maybe so. But I¡¯m okay with that. Unlike you, I don¡¯t need to measure my self-worth through tyranny or power.¡± He nodded toward Vlad¡¯s body, his face turning icy cold. ¡°But you better bring him back, grandfather, for your own sake. Because if you don¡¯t, if you leave him lying there in a pool of blood and shit¡ª¡± He stepped forward, coming face-to-face with the Emperor. ¡°¡ªthen I will make it my mission to become powerful. I will become someone worthy of being called your enemy. And you will think back on this day and wonder what if. What if I had just done what he had asked?¡±

    His words hung heavy in the air, not a flicker of sound or movement betraying that silence for seconds that seemed to stretch on.

    When the Emperor finally moved, it was to shake his head.

    ¡°I already told you, boy. Six revenants is my limit. There¡¯s nothing to be done for him¡ª¡± He waved his hand toward the two revenants. ¡°¡ªunless you want me to sacrifice Whipvine or Mesmer?¡±

    Terry studied the man¡¯s eyes, searching for a tell. He was lying¡ªhe had to be¡ªbut why did he look so stone-certain.

    ¡°My mother¡­¡±

    He trailed off, reeling back as the truth hit him in the gut.

    The Emperor pursed his lips, nodding in agreement to Terry¡¯s silent revelation.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, Terry. Your mother wasn¡¯t mine.¡± His eyes softened for the briefest moment. ¡°She was your father¡¯s.¡±

 Chapter 58: The Burial

    Terry reeled back, silent as he tried to process that realization.

    His father¡¯s revenant?

    Everything snapped into sharp focus, all the revelations from the past few hours coalescing into something that finally made sense.

    His mother had died and his father had been the only one present. He¡¯d been forced to bring her back. Of course he had.

    He remembered back to the footage of Sol¡¯s attack, of his father¡¯s brief fight with the Siren. That look of confusion, then raw anger as she tried to distort his aura. She had been disrupting his connection to his revenant¡ªdisrupting the very thing that kept his wife alive.

    His father¡¯s words flashed in his mind.

    She was trying to rip something away from me, the only thing I¡¯d ever wanted.

    At the time, his father had played it off, claiming he was afraid to lose his summons, Skol and Hati. Terry now realized that had been a deflection¡ªit had been his mother he had been afraid to lose. The choice his father had been forced to make was to kill the Siren right then and there¡­or let Terry¡¯s mother die for good.

    ¡°You all knew,¡± he breathed. ¡°Everyone knew but me¡­¡±

    ¡°Not all of us,¡± his grandfather replied. Terry¡¯s head snapped up. ¡°She took James¡¯ memories, too. Shoved them into one of her roses.¡± He snorted. ¡°No, only you and your father were in the dark, and I let her have her little fantasy. Her perfect little family.¡±

    Terry felt the heat rise to his face, his fists clenching. His aura had recovered after the Emperor¡¯s defensive blast and he felt it shifting almost of its own accord.

    Before it could coalesce, Whipvine was between the two of them. He turned toward the Emperor.

    ¡°Enough, Terrence. Stop antagonizing the boy.¡±

    Terry faltered in surprise, his aura stilling at the revenant¡¯s casual familiarity. His grandfather regarded Whipvine with a frown, then let out a heavy breath.

    Mesmer stepped forward, finally breaking the silence.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to find out the way you have, Terry. This isn¡¯t how your mother would have wanted things to progress. We¡¯ve failed you.¡± The man¡¯s nod indicated himself, Whipvine, and the Emperor, which surprised Terry. ¡°Yes, we knew your mother was your father¡¯s revenant and we allowed her to alter both of your memories on a daily basis to keep that fact hidden. We all admired her greatly and when she asked this of us, we agreed she would be allowed to do it her way. Your father ultimately agreed, too. Before she took those memories.¡±

    Terry turned away, unable to process those words with the three older men staring so intently at him. Other than his father, they had been the men he had looked up to the most in his life¡ªhis mentors, his role models¡­even his friends.

    Now, the distance between them was a vast gulf and he realized that he had never truly known any of the three of them. His every memory was suspect.

    The worst part about that realization was that none of them were truly to blame. They had been complicit of course. But there was only one person he could fault for stealing his memories, making him doubt every experience he¡¯d ever had.

    He turned back, his anger toward his grandfather and the two revenants drained away, his hate feeling hollow and spent.

    ¡°Who?¡± he breathed. ¡°Who killed my mother?¡±

    Mesmer and the Emperor shared a cryptic look, but Whipvine had no poker face, his eyes going wide at the oblique line of questioning.

    Terry pursed his lips. ¡°So you do know.¡± He leaned forward, his eyes burning into his grandfather. ¡°Just tell me one thing: are they still alive?¡±

    He watched his grandfather for any facial tic, any hint of deception in his words or tone. But the Emperor sighed and shook his head slowly.

    ¡°No, Terry. Your mother¡¯s murderer is long dead.¡±

    He had so many more questions, so much he wanted to grill the three men about. But Vlad¡¯s body lay unceremoniously on the table, blood seeping onto the floor with rhythmic plops, as if subtly angling for Terry¡¯s attention; calling for vengeance.

    The Emperor seemed to notice his attention shift.

    ¡°The sanguine are done,¡± the man said. ¡°Whipvine will tell the elder his people are no longer welcome tonight. They¡¯ll return to the Underworld by morning.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re letting them go?¡± Terry asked quietly, betraying none of the anger brewing beneath the surface.

    His grandfather must have sensed it anyway, his tone shifting defensively.

    ¡°There are politics at play here, Terry. I can¡¯t simply murder my invited guests, can I?¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Terry hissed. ¡°They¡¯ve been violating your own people for over a year.¡±

    ¡°Those deaths are unfortunate. But killing in retaliation would sever any political connection with the sanguine and severely damage my¡ª¡±

    ¡°Your reputation with the Underworld?¡± Terry whispered, echoing the words he had heard in Mesmer¡¯s memories. His eyes slid up, locking onto his grandfather¡¯s face with an icy stare. ¡°And what about your reputation on Earth?¡±

    The Emperor said nothing, simply holding Terry¡¯s gaze stoically. Terry nodded, flexing his aura with a thought. He saw Mesmer tense and Whipvine had a worried expression, but the Emperor remained stone still.

    A portal cut across the air and Terry turned to scoop Vlad up into his arms.

    When he looked back at the three old men, he no longer felt anger¡ªonly disappointment.

    Before they could say another word or think to stop his departure, he was through the portal and back on the warehouse floor.

    The portal he had formed high in the rafters still shone bright, illuminating the space with a golden light. He hadn¡¯t expected the sanguine to raid the warehouse with that much sunlight filtering in, but a small part of him had feared they might not be content to leave the warehouse unmolested.

    When he saw the others standing in a huddle, he felt that weight leave his shoulders.

    Katie was the first to spot him and pointed frantically in his direction. Alan, Peter, and Tristan looked over in excitement, but immediately turned crestfallen once they saw Vlad in his arms.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Tania simply pursed her lips tight, her face painfully stoic as she regarded Vlad¡¯s lifeless body.

    ¡°Is he¡­?¡± Katie asked, a hint of hope in her voice as they ran over.

    Terry nodded, unable to force any words past his tight throat.

    Tears slipped down Katie¡¯s face. Peter put a hand around her shoulders and she turned into him, hiding against his chest. Alan looked on silently, his face drawn down into a frown. Tania stood behind them, her arms crossed.

    But when Terry looked at Tristan, he didn¡¯t see tears or regret or sadness.

    What he saw there was pure, unfiltered rage. Recognizing that anger reignited Terry¡¯s own fire and the two of them locked eyes, understanding passing between them without a word.

    He ranged his aura out, feeling Crunch patrolling the warehouse roof high above. With a thought, he summoned the ghoul back from his patrol.

    The time for playing defense was past. They were going on the offensive.

    When Crunch was with them, Terry got the group¡¯s attention. They regarded him with a spectrum of emotions and he felt it infuse him with purpose.

    ¡°The Emperor plans to send the sanguine back to the Underworld tomorrow morning.¡± Heads whipped around as the group shared surprised looks with each other. ¡°Whipvine will visit them tonight and inform them they are no longer welcome in Wichita.¡±

    He let that sink in, gauging their reactions while keeping his own face stoic.

    ¡°Good,¡± Katie said, her face red from crying. ¡°Send every one of those bloodsuckers back to hell!¡±

    The others didn¡¯t reply at first, but Terry could see the wheels turning in Tristan¡¯s eyes and the set of his lips.

    ¡°Tristan?¡± Terry asked quietly. ¡°Any thoughts?¡±

    He started in surprise, then bit his lip.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. ¡°Yeah, I have thoughts.¡± He turned to face the others, his hands suddenly becoming animated. ¡°Fuck that. I don¡¯t want the Emperor to send them back to their homes with a little slap on the wrist.¡± His eyes flicked toward Terry, who nodded subtly to encourage him. ¡°I want to send them to hell for real. I want to see each and every one of those bastards impaled, burned, or decapitated!¡± His voice rose as he spoke, passion infusing his words. ¡°For Flore, for Vlad, for Wichita!¡±

    Alan and Peter were hanging on Tristan¡¯s every word and Terry could see their blood rising in response. Katie kept switching her gaze between Tristan and Terry, as if not quite believing what she was hearing.

    But Tania had the strongest response, her fists visibly clenching where she crossed her arms, her eyes tearing up even as a fierce snarl began to form on her lips.

    ¡°I¡¯m with you, Tristan!¡± Tania blurted. ¡°Fuck the sanguine and fuck the Emperor! If he won¡¯t make them pay, then it¡¯s up to us!¡±

    Terry carefully kept quiet, letting his aura range out among the group, feeling their emotions spark through his senses. But the one he watched the closest, the one he worried about the most, was his oldest and closest friend.

    He worried Crunch¡¯s sense of duty would stop them dead in their tracks. That a sense of obligation would arise and the ghoul would feel compelled to warn the Emperor of their plan. But as Terry¡¯s senses washed over Crunch, he felt a hard, determined shape in answer to his unasked question.

    Terry smiled as he recognized the shape, but spoke out loud for the other¡¯s benefit.

    ¡°Crunch? You with us?¡±

    The others startled, realizing how openly they had been planning sedition against the Emperor in front of one of his servants.

    Crunch didn¡¯t move, his body eerily still as he flicked his single eye toward Terry. His voice grated like a boot on broken glass.

    ¡°Obvious.¡±

    Smiles broke out among the others, but Terry wasn¡¯t done.

    ¡°Burg and Blood? Will they join or give us away?¡±

    The question hurt to ask¡ªhe had come to trust the two ghouls almost as much as he trusted Crunch. But despite how close he had become with the three of them, he also knew that his understanding of ghoulish culture still had gaps and blindspots.

    ¡°They follow their prince,¡± the ghoul said simply, his aura shifting into a confident shape.

    Now, Terry finally allowed a smile to touch his face.

    ¡°Can you fetch them? I¡¯d rather not portal into the palace unless I have to.¡±

    Crunch took off without a word, moving so fast he was gone before the echo of Terry¡¯s words in the warehouse died out.

    He turned back to the others, letting his smile slip as he turned his mind to the seriousness of the situation.

    ¡°There¡¯s a couple things we need to do to prepare,¡± he started. His eyes turned to Vlad¡¯s body and he forced his heart beat steady. ¡°But first, we need to send Vlad off.¡±

    The others took on somber expressions as they regarded the body.

    ¡°Do we bury or cremate him?¡± Alan asked quietly.

    ¡°He was an Earth Elementalist,¡± Katie replied. ¡°He would have wanted to be in the ground, I think.¡±

    Terry nodded, his thoughts immediately turning to the perfect place to send Vlad off.

    Nearly a thousand feet below was the pocket of space Vlad always left open. It was their staging area for their trips to and from Terraform¡¯s Market and connected to a long tunnel leading deeper into the earth. The staging area space wasn¡¯t large, just enough for them to step through one of Silver¡¯s portals and begin their journey through the tunnel. They had used it initially to avoid tunneling directly from their warehouse and potentially flagging their operation to an earth-based Awakened or one of the Emperor¡¯s wraiths.

    But without Silver to portal them to and from the staging area, the pocket of space had been neglected; they had simply taken the risk of discovery and burrowed into the earth from the warehouse the last time they visited the Market. But now, it could serve one final purpose.

    Space split easily as Terry created a connection to that pocket. The portal whooshed into existence in front of them, an opaque oval of blue-silver cutting across the air.

    ¡°Let¡¯s push him through together,¡± Terry suggested.

    They each reached down, grabbing Vlad¡¯s body anyway they could. Slowly, with deference, they slid him forward, his head disappearing through the portal, then his torso, and finally his feet.

    Terry turned to Alan.

    ¡°Can you summon water to ferry him further down the tunnel? He would have liked that, I think.¡±

    Alan looked flustered as he regarded the portal.

    ¡°I-it¡¯s too far down! I¡¯ve never worked with water that deep!¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°I believe in you, Alan. Just send your aura through and trust your senses.¡±

    Alan hesitated, clearly not believing it to be so simple. But Tania came up beside him, putting a hand on his arm.

    ¡°You can do this,¡± she said softly.

    He looked at her, his cheek moving as if he were worrying the inside of it between his teeth. Then, a visible shift took root in his eyes and he nodded confidently.

    Aura traced forward from the man, entering the portal slowly. Terry sent his own senses along, feeling Alan work as he ranged among the stone, questing for water.

    Vlad¡¯s body lay on the ground, inert and lifeless. But the stone around him seemed to come to life to Terry¡¯s senses. It vibrated, then began to crack. A trickle of water pushed into the space. Then, a flood. Terry felt Vlad¡¯s body begin to drift away on that water, pulled deeper into the tunnel of his own making. After a minute, the surge of water turned back into a trickle and the body disappeared to his senses. They both pulled their auras away and he let the portal drop.

    They stood there in respectful silence for a moment, then Terry turned to address them all.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m on the verge of ranking up. If I can synthesize this new Skill, I¡¯ll hit the D-rank and have a powerful new weapon against the sanguine. But that doesn¡¯t matter.¡± He forced confidence into his eyes as he looked at each of them in turn. ¡°Whether or not I rank up, the sanguine die tonight.¡±

    He hesitated, his gaze tracking across Alan, Katie, Peter, and then lingering on Tania.

    She must have picked up on where his thoughts were going, because she scowled.

    ¡°Nuh-uh. You are not leaving us behind.¡±

    Terry sighed, looking toward Tristan. ¡°We¡¯re the only ones with a counter to the sanguine. Light is the only thing that¡¯ll kill them¡ª¡±

    Tania stomped forward, her face a mask of fury.

    ¡°You are not leaving us behind.¡± She said us, but Terry understood what she was really saying was me. ¡°Sunlight isn¡¯t the only counter. Silver is just as effective. I can buy some silver, turn them into stakes or a sword or¡ªdon¡¯t shake your head at me!¡±

    Terry hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been doing it, but her harsh tone snapped him out of his unconscious action.

    ¡°You think you¡¯re stronger than me because you can make portals!¡± she demanded, her finger held under his nose. ¡°Well, maybe you are. But I¡¯ve been training with Whip too, and I can swing silver just fine. Flore was my friend. And though Vlad was a pain in my ass, he deserves vengeance. All those stolen in the night by the vampires do. And you don¡¯t get to decide who comes along to deliver that justice, y¡¯hear!¡±

    Terry was reeling under the verbal assault, but eventually settled back in defeat. He looked toward the three others.

    ¡°Tania speak for you three as well?¡±

    They didn¡¯t even take a second to confer as Katie spoke for them.

    ¡°We¡¯re with you, Terry. And we¡¯re damn sure not gonna hang back while you and Tristan do all the bloody work.¡±

    He sighed quietly, feeling at a loss in the face of their stubborn determination.

    Am I just going to get them killed, too?

    But after a moment, he realized that he couldn¡¯t make that decision for them. They were adults¡ªmore than that, they were Awakened. Even if their powers were more suited for farming than fighting, that didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t be powerful in their own way.

    ¡°Okay, I hear you. Start brainstorming plans while I finish ranking up.¡± He regarded them all, his voice full of ice. ¡°We raid Blood Alley in two hours.¡±

 Chapter 59: Talent

    It took another hour to finish slotting the rest of Light Shift into his portal Skill, but the wait was worth it. When the notifications flashed in his vision, a satisfied smile touched his lips.

    New Skill created: [Master of Light]

    Quest Complete: [Create a Skill]

    Create a new D-grade or higher Skill OR hybridize two cataloged Skills into a new D-grade Skill

    Reward: D-rank

    D-rank achieved! Status Sheet updated!

    Two D-ranked Affixation slots awarded

    New Talent awarded: [Versatile]

    One talent point awarded

    Before he could marvel at all the changes, his aura began to shift of its own accord. His Metal Telekinesis Affixation shifted to his left hand, while his portal Skill began to morph, occupying one of his two D-ranked slots.

    The final D-ranked slot lay vacant, leaving him with Liquefy Metal in an F-slot, Metal Telekinesis in an E-slot, and portal in a D-slot. He had one slot open at each of the three ranks, though his only other F- and E-ranked Skills were his two Body Tempering Skills.

    A prompt appeared asking if he wanted to Affix his new Skill and he accepted.

    His aura began to remap itself, his skin itching uncomfortably. Minutes of pain passed, but he hardly noticed¡ªall he could think about was his new rank and Skill.

    When it was done, the Skill description appeared.

    New Skill Affixed: Master of Light (D ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Use aura to manipulate light¡¯s shape and wavelength. Complexity of shape and degree of alteration are dependent on the caster¡¯s mastery of electromagnetic radiation and aura manipulation.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank, understanding, and aura control increase, so can this Skill.

    An upgradeable Skill! He had hoped that property of Marlon¡¯s Skill would transfer but hadn¡¯t counted on it. But what was even more interesting was the Skill itself. It wasn¡¯t like anything he had ever heard of or expected. He desperately wanted to experiment with it and figure exactly what manipulate light¡¯s shape and wavelength meant. But there was one more unexpected notification demanding his attention.

    With a thought, he focused on the new talent.

    New Talent: Versatile

    The user¡¯s Affixation slots can be used interchangeably across ranks with a conversion rate of two grade-specific slots equating to a single slot of the next grade. This interchangeability carries regardless of Skill grade, such that four F-grade slots can Affix a D-grade Skill and vice versa.

    He stared at that System notification in disbelief. If he was reading it right, then each slot basically carried a weight to it. If he considered an F-grade slot as one point, then an E-grade slot was worth two, and a D-grade slot was worth four. Considering his number of Affixation slots, he currently had fourteen points. That meant he could Affix three D-grade Skills with two points left, seven E-grade Skills, or fourteen F-grade Skills.

    It was unlikely Affixing fourteen F-grade Skills would ever make sense in a fight, but the talent dramatically improved his versatility, just as it said. As if that wasn¡¯t enough, he realized he had one more talent point. He focused on that and three choices appeared. There was an inherent feeling that these three choices had talent branches extending past them, but any potential future choices were obscured when he tried to focus on them. He didn¡¯t mind, though; the three talents on offer were incredibly enticing.

    Talent: Quick Shift

    Optimize the user¡¯s aura and genetic material to reduce Affixation time by half.

    Talent: Condense Aura

    Condense the user¡¯s aura fractionally. Gain an additional slot one grade below current rank. This will increase as the user¡¯s rank increases.

    Talent: Mask Signature

    Reduce the user¡¯s aura signature. The user will appear weaker to aura senses and be more difficult to sense in general.

    He felt stunned by how useful this new talent system was. Moving in order, he considered Quick Shift first.

    It sounded useful if he ever found himself low on slots and needed to switch on the fly to increase his adaptability. But after some thought, he felt that there wasn¡¯t as much utility in that talent as it appeared.

    For one, cutting a five-minute process down to a two and a half minute process wasn¡¯t exactly practical in the middle of a fight. If he had multiple minutes to swap his Affixations, he might as well just eat the full time and save a talent point. If it were something as dramatic as reducing Affixation time by ninety percent, that would be worth considering. But for now, he discarded Quick Shift as an option.

    The next talent was interesting, not because it would add an additional E-grade slot, but because it would synergize with his Versatile talent to give him an additional D-grade slot. That would allow him to run all three of his D-grade Skills¡ªnot counting the Body Tempering he had learned from Silver earlier. With his portal, his Master of Light, and Light Shift, he¡¯d have his three most powerful Skills available and could still Affix his Metal Telekinesis and Liquefy Metal. Without the Condense Aura talent, he¡¯d have to give up Liquefy Metal to Affix Metal Telekinesis, or vice versa. But the more he considered, the more he wondered if he needed Light Shift at all; did Master of Light make Light Shift obsolete? Though, there were future implications on skipping this talent. Possessing an extra E-grade slot was decent, but when he ranked up, that would become an extra D-grade slot. Then a C-grade slot, and so on. Could he afford to miss out on something with that much utility?

    The last talent was the most interesting and most ambiguous. There was a strategic appeal to appearing weaker than you were, but that didn¡¯t mean he wanted to look weak all the time. But the flipside of that were the stealth implications. Harder to sense sounded like he¡¯d be able to sneak around without his aura giving him away. And he had to consider the possibility that he might even be able to catalog other Awakened¡¯s Skills without them realizing it. That last benefit was a stretch and maybe it would end up just reducing his aura signature slightly, but his imagination was running wild with the idea.

    The ability to stealth catalog Skills would be the most amazing boon he could hope for.

    After a few minutes¡¯ consideration, he decided to select the Mask Signature talent. The Quick Shift talent he dismissed right away since it imparted little utility. As for the Condense Aura talent, after some testing with Master of Light and Light Shift, he determined that Light Shift was, in fact, redundant now. The extra slot from the talent wouldn¡¯t be immediately useful and with the raid on Blood Alley looming, he needed to bias toward the here and now. Hopefully he¡¯d be given another opportunity to select a talent in the future.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    With a thought, he picked Mask Signature. His aura immediately began to shift, turning ephemeral to his senses. It wasn¡¯t like it was being watered down, but more like it blended into the ambient aura of the world better. Almost as if it were learning to camouflage in its surroundings. When he expressed it around himself, it didn¡¯t feel any weaker, just more¡­subtle.

    He probed out with his aura, shifting space to form a small portal, then tying it off as he withdrew his power. When he ranged his aura back over the portal, he found that the properties of his masked aura still held for his working. The aura framework was much harder to sense and if he didn¡¯t see it with his very own eyes, he might not have noticed it at all without some serious scrutiny.

    A smile touched his face as he left the office. The others were in a huddle, talking in quiet but animated tones, when they noticed Terry approaching.

    He felt their regards¡ªboth with their mundane and aura senses¡ªand couldn¡¯t help but notice little signs of disappointment.

    They think I failed because of my aura, he realized.

    Tania approached first, a forced cheer on her face.

    ¡°We¡¯ve come up with a plan, Terry. We think it¡¯s good but we wanted to run it by you first. Without knowing if you were gonna rank up or not, we weren¡¯t sure what role you¡¯d¡­¡± She trailed off as he began to laugh. ¡°What? What¡¯s so funny.¡±

    He composed himself, turning to address them all.

    ¡°I did it. I hit the Ds.¡±

    They shared surprised looks, their auras testing his own once more.

    ¡°Feel like an E to me,¡± Tristan said. ¡°Actually, you almost feel weaker than before¡ª¡±

    Katie cut him off with a quick slap to the arm and Tristan clamped his mouth shut.

    ¡°What he means is, your aura just feels different, is all,¡± Katie said.

    Terry snorted as they all shifted uncomfortably. He found himself more and more pleased with his choice, realizing just how useful it would be for making his enemies underestimate him.

    ¡°Here, let me show you.¡± His aura shot up into the sky, more free than ever. It was almost tactile as he reached past the Emperor¡¯s working. Whereas before he had just ranged up and guessed when he was clear of the darkness, now, he could feel the magic in the air¡ªpractically see it with his senses.

    He knew the moment he was above the darkness and he split space wide enough to fit a semi-truck. Brilliant, golden light streamed into the warehouse, eclipsing his previous portal with its sheer width. They held their hands up against the sudden brilliance, but Terry wasn¡¯t done.

    As he activated Master of Light, he could feel his aura shift forward in a ball of power. Everywhere it touched, he could sense the electromagnetic radiation that made up the light in that space. The sheer amount of information playing across his senses was staggering. He couldn¡¯t just sense the visible light reflecting off surfaces and into his eyes, but also the invisible light waves bouncing around, through, and inside the domain of his Skill.

    The varying waves didn¡¯t announce themselves, but he could see the subtle differences across the spectrum. One form of light felt large in his senses and seemed to penetrate walls and other surfaces. Another felt tighter and was emanating not only from the ambient air, but from their bodies, too.

    It almost felt like¡­heat.

    He found that the auras from the others blocked his attempts to alter the light reflecting and emanating from them. But his own light easily shifted with a thought.

    Pushing ever so slightly, he shifted the light around him, altering the shape until it didn¡¯t reflect but rather diverted. It was a subtle change, but the visible effects were stunning.

    His hands seemed to distort to his eyes, like he was looking through a fisheye lens. The others gasped in surprise, but he focused his aura, continuing to shift the light approaching him.

    But as he pushed, not only did his own body begin to disappear to his eyes, but so did everything around him. Darkness began to creep in and in seconds, he found himself practically blind. Only his aura and other mundane senses remained to indicate the others¡¯ reactions.

    ¡°Holy shit!¡± Tania yelled out.

    ¡°No way¡­no freakin¡¯ way,¡± Tristan muttered.

    Terry shoved the forming panic down, recognizing that he wasn¡¯t actually in darkness, but had simply refracted all the visible light away from not only his body, but also his eyes.

    ¡°What are you seeing?¡± He turned his head to experiment, but no matter what direction he looked, it was all black.

    ¡°You¡¯re invisible, Terry!¡± Alan cried, his voice high with excitement. ¡°We can¡¯t see you at all!¡±

    A sense of giddiness filled him, but the total black of his vision needed to be addressed before he could call it a success. With a focus of his aura, he shifted the bubble of power so that light still entered his eyes. As his vision returned, he spotted Katie¡¯s shocked face, then Alan¡¯s. But his view was tunneled, only revealing a narrow space in the center of his vision. Slowly, he continued to shift the magic away from his face until his entire field of view was restored.

    ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± he asked, turning to study their expressions. ¡°Am I still invisible?¡±

    ¡°This is freaky¡­¡± Tristan replied.

    Katie shifted forward, seeming to peer directly into his face.

    ¡°It¡¯s like you¡¯re a floating head, Terry,¡± she said. Then she shifted around him, gasping in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re completely invisible from this angle though!¡± She came back into view. ¡°I can only see your face within about a ninety-degree angle.¡±

    Terry smiled, more than pleased with that news.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you unlocked invisibility, dude,¡± Alan said in disbelief. He bumped Tristan playfully. ¡°Why can¡¯t you do that?¡±

    Terry worried Tristan might feel resentment that he had more control over Tristan¡¯s element than he did. But the man simply laughed and shrugged.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get there one day. But this is incredible. Even Flore couldn¡¯t bend light like that!¡±

    They discussed his new Skill for a few more minutes, then turned back to the task at hand, their moods slowly sobering as they remembered just exactly what they intended to do.

    Apparently, the team hadn¡¯t been idle while Terry had been working, and when they told him their plan, a satisfied smile touched his face.

    The suckers didn¡¯t know what was coming for them.

    <hr>

    Whipvine¡¯s fingers caressed his weapons as he approached Blood Alley. His senses alerted him to the vamps well before they saw him. The smell of blood, decay, and unwashed flesh overpowered. The sound of scurrying feet on rooftops reminded him of rats in a nest. Even the air tasted of copper.

    His nose furled in disgust, his aura surging in righteous anger.

    ¡°Damn you, Terrence,¡± he muttered to himself as he passed between the two buildings that signified the start of the sanguine domain.

    He didn¡¯t take any measures to hide his presence, but all the same, the vamps were slow to notice him. It spoke of a lack of discipline and frankly, an arrogance that only fueled his anger.

    They felt themselves untouchable in Wichita and they flaunted that invincibility with a casual disregard for scouts, defensive structures, or any semblance of order.

    But what galled him the most was that they were right. Despite his distaste for them, he was powerless to do anything about it. Terrence had been forced to invite them into his domain and they had run rampant in the city for over a year.

    No longer.

    Whipvine wasn¡¯t one to look on the bright side. But were he so inclined, he would at least take solace in the fact that their reign of terror was over in Wichita. Done. Finished. Though, it was little consolation for the dozens¡ªpossibly hundreds¡ªthat had been drained by the vamps.

    Still, he allowed himself to feel a bittersweet pleasure at his role in the affair. He was the one that got to deliver the news to the elder and that, at least, was something.

    As he strolled casually through Blood Alley towards their nest, he could hear the calls from the nearby vamps, hear them rush towards their elder in the guise of delivering a warning, though he knew from the fear-pheromones released in that air that it was really protection they hoped for.

    That also gave him some small hint of pleasure. He enjoyed their fear and he hurried them along by cracking a whip against the side of a building where some of them lingered too long.

    The outskirts of Blood Alley drained of sanguine, in the same way they drained their victims. Dozens of cowardly spawnlings raced toward the safety of numbers, the uncertainty of Whipvine¡¯s arrival hurrying them forward.

    Had he come to parlay or exterminate?

    He let that question linger in their minds as he took his time approaching the center of Blood Alley. Dozens of sanguine voices reached his ears; questions, doubts, and shouts of fear.

    A smile twisted on his face, his scars stretching painfully.

    He was on the hunt now, looking for any errant vamp to fall into his sights. Even snagging one with his whip would give him some small amount of satisfaction¡ªmake this trip not a complete waste of time.

    But they had fled too quickly, the cowards.

    So, with a discontented sigh, he entered the sanguine nest, his System-enhanced eyes picking out every little detail despite the blanket of darkness laying across the warehouse.

    He stopped in the door threshold, taking in the sight of nearly a thousand vamps churning around the open space. The smells of death, fear, and blood mingled into a heady cocktail that made his fists clench. Discarded bones littered the floor and his eyes landed on one particular femur that was too small to belong to an adult.

    His blood burned, his aura broiled, and his whips called to him.

    But Terrence had known what he was sending Whipvine into. He¡¯d given the revenant a compulsion¡ªfor his own good, the Emperor had said.

    It was difficult not to hate his old friend in moments like these.

    Damn you, Terrence, he thought for the millionth time.

    But there was no backing out¡ªthe compulsion was too strong. And when he imagined tearing through the suckers with his whips, the compulsion flared even stronger. Only in the face of violence would his compulsion be released.

    There was nothing for it but to grit his teeth and deliver the Emperor¡¯s proclamation.

    With a tight jaw, he entered the sanguine nest and approached the makeshift throne at the center of the warehouse.

    The elder¡¯s aura felt drawn in, pulled tight in the face of his arrival. To hide his fear or in preparation for a fight, he didn¡¯t know. But it did make him smile to see the elder on the back foot.

    ¡°I come from the Emperor,¡± he said, his voice echoing loudly in the wide open warehouse. ¡°For the attack on his grandson and the affront given to his hospitality, your invitation has been revoked. You have until the morning to return to your home. The Emperor will provide the portal¡ª¡±

    ¡°This is an insult to all sanguine!¡± the elder hissed. ¡°When word of the bone lord¡¯s hospitality reaches my people, he will lose all credibility in the Underworld!¡±

    ¡°All the same,¡± Whipvine said, his tone hardening. ¡°You¡¯re being sent back to your hole. Be thankful it is in one piece.¡±

    A deep hissing sound echoed around him, the sanguine letting their displeasure be known. The elder leaned forward in his throne.

    ¡°Your Emperor wouldn¡¯t dare attack us. It is him who should be grateful to us for allowing his spawn to leave our nest alive.¡± The elder slammed a fist on his armrest, shattering the bone material into dust. ¡°He is lucky I didn¡¯t demand that whelp¡¯s head! Hmm, perhaps I should. A condition of our¡­peaceful departure.¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s hands gripped his weapons tight, the magical leather squeaking quietly from the force. The compulsion prevented him from lashing out, but he strained against it all the same.

    Before he could reply, a dim light flashed before him and he nearly whipped out on instinct. A moment later, a figure materialized, resolving into a familiar shape.

    Terry stood in front of him, staring down the elder with a smile on his face. He glanced back, winked at Whipvine, then addressed the sanguine. His voice echoed strangely, as if coming from high above, giving it a sense of imperious proclamation.

    ¡°I heard someone calling for my head. Ask and you shall receive!¡±

 Chapter 60: The Raid

    Perched high above on the warehouse roof, wrapped in his Master of Light Skill, he was both nearly invisible to the naked eye and completely invisible on the infrared spectrum. For the sanguine, who primarily hunted via infrared, he was virtually undetectable.

    And now, with his Mask Signature talent, even his use of aura didn¡¯t give him away as he created a small viewing portal into the warehouse below, just large enough to stick his head through and glance down at the hundreds of sanguine milling below. Using his Master of Light Skill, he bent the light away, leaving only his eyes free to observe the scene.

    If any of them had looked up, they might have spotted a floating set of piercing blue eyes illuminated by the faintest light.

    But none of them did.

    So he watched unperturbed as Whipvine approached the elder, his casual disregard for the mass of sanguine around him obvious in the set of his posture. But Terry couldn¡¯t miss the man¡¯s hands dangling over his namesake whips¡ªthe revenant was practically vibrating with pent-up bloodlust.

    The mood between the revenant and the elder soured quicker than Terry expected, but his preparations were already in motion. He sent a quick message to the others with a flash of a micro portal, then launched his opening salvo.

    A perfect simulacrum of himself, portrayed lifelike through an invisible portal in conjunction with his Master of Light. It had only taken a couple minutes of testing, but he had quickly discovered that he could open a full-sized portal emitting light from his side so that he was visible from the exit side of the portal. Then, by reaching through with his aura, he could bend light away from the edges of the portal until the evidence that a portal existed at all were gone¡ªat least visually.

    The result? A pretty decent two-dimensional image of him cast from the warehouse roof down into the nest itself¡ªalmost like a hologram. It wouldn¡¯t hold up to any serious scrutiny, but in the near-perfect darkness, and angled in such a way that it faced both Whipvine and the elder, it was enough to fool them into thinking he was standing right before them. Since his head was sticking through a second portal, he had to bend light around his hologram¡¯s head to fudge things a bit, but he was banking on neither of them noticing in their surprise.

    The only piece he didn¡¯t have a good solution for was projecting his voice. He hadn¡¯t figured out how to send sound through the portals yet, so he was forced to compromise on that bit by yelling down from where his head was sticking through the first portal.

    ¡°I heard someone calling for my head. Ask and you shall receive!¡±

    The elder flinched in surprise at his arrival and he smiled to himself.

    ¡°Terry!¡± Whipvine hissed. ¡°What are you doing, son? Get out of here. Quick!¡±

    He couldn¡¯t move naturally to turn toward the revenant without giving away the ruse, but he shifted slightly to acknowledge his old friend.

    ¡°Sorry, Whip. I decided eviction isn¡¯t good enough for these scum. Their new sentence¡­death.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t see through his projection down below, but from his vantage above, he saw Whipvine frown. Before he could reply, the elder¡¯s booming laugh echoed out across the warehouse.

    ¡°The payment of your life is accepted. Give your Emperor our regards, revenant. Do not interfere or we will drown you in bodies.¡±

    Whipvine leaned in close to his projection, his voice low.

    ¡°Terry, flee! I can¡¯t handle this many¡­¡± He trailed off, perhaps sensing that the Terry he was talking to had no heartbeat or smell to him.

    It was Terry¡¯s turn to laugh as he addressed the elder.

    ¡°It is your people who will drown, elder.¡±

    Terry flicked his hand, opening a portal exit inside the warehouse. Unlike his other portals¡ªwhich were mostly invisible¡ªhe let the blue-silver oval appear with a flash of light. At the same time, he extended his senses high above, summoning a large light-emitting portal above the warehouse entrance. Light filtered in through the open door, causing the sanguine to screech in panic. Another portal opened on the far side of the warehouse, and those few sanguine lingering outside began to burn. Two more portals opened around the building, until it was penned in on four sides by brilliant golden light. Sunlight even flickered through his decoy portal, singeing a nearby sanguine who had been edging close to the simulacrum.

    Within moments, Terry had created a prison of sunlight, trapping the sanguine inside their own nest.

    ¡°Kill him!¡± the elder shouted, his aura blasting out to command his underlings.

    Bodies leaped at the portal emitting his decoy, fuzzing the light as they passed through and bounced off the invisible portal. He felt a pull on his aura and let the portal go.

    But the second portal he had opened inside the warehouse¡ªthe one emitting blue-silver light¡ªremained active. Water had been trickling through, unbeknownst to the elder. As the sanguine realized that Terry wasn¡¯t actually among them, the trickle of water turned into a veritable flood.

    The sanguine ignored the rushing water, turning about in an uncoordinated panic as they searched for a target. Since they couldn¡¯t find Terry, they turned to the Emperor¡¯s revenant.

    Which was a costly mistake.

    Whipvine¡¯s weapons cracked out too fast for Terry to see, the sounds of their passage echoing painfully loud in the warehouse. They cleaved through bodies, clearing a handful of sanguine spawnlings with each strike.

    But Terry wasn¡¯t concerned for Whipvine¡ªthe revenant was an A-ranked Duelist and one of the most deadly Awakened at any rank. Instead, he had eyes only for the elder, who had slinked out of the throne like a shadow, edging toward the back of the warehouse.

    As Terry followed the sly elder with his eyes, he heard the sounds of the first spawnling to touch the water that was gushing from the portal. A terrible cry of pain filled the large room, then was amplified a moment later as more and more of the sanguine landed in the flood.

    He smiled as the panicked horde turned into a mewling blob of incapacitated foes.

    They hadn¡¯t been able to get their hands on that much silver, so Terry had worried the concentration would be too low to hurt the vampires. But judging by the squealing cries of pain, he shouldn¡¯t have worried.

    The colloidal silver they¡¯d created and fed underground near the warehouse had been a smashing success. As a Water Elementalist, Alan had been more than up to the task of funneling it through Terry¡¯s portal.

    With the ground soaked in the colloidal silver, Whipvine and the vampires began playing a game of the floor is lava¡ªonly, Whipvine marched through the lava like a vengeful god, his whips tearing through clumps of the fleeing monsters with contemptuous strokes.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    The horde dispersed, edging away from the water, but found themselves boxed in by the sunlight ringing the warehouse. They pressed their backs to the walls, then began to climb desperately as the water approached.

    Where they were complete fodder to Whipvine¡¯s long-range strikes.

    Only those that made it to the very ceiling were safe from the whips, but the revenant simply leaped into the air, clearing enough height to reach them with swift strokes before dropping back to the floor. He continued culling the spawnlings like fish in a barrel, and Terry turned his full attention back to the elder.

    The sneaky sanguine had reached high up in a corner of the warehouse, clutching one of his underlings to him like a body shield. Pulling a hood up high, he prepared to breach through a window¡ªpresumably to fly to safety outside the range of Terry¡¯s sunlit portals. He held the spawnling before him, angling to hide inside its shadow for a respite.

    When the elder quietly breached a window and slipped out, he had the dead spawnling held up high above him, like an umbrella against the sun.

    And Terry was there to greet him.

    The plates of silver wrapped around his waist lifted into the air, snapping around the elder¡¯s head like an iron mask. Panic seized the sanguine and he threw the spawnling away to claw at the metal enclosure. He screamed in pain as his claws raked against the silver, risking what must have been utter agony in order to free himself.

    But Terry held the silver mask tight with his aura, resisting the elder¡¯s considerable strength as he watched him struggle. Glancing through a peephole portal to assess the fight below, Terry saw that Whipvine was cleaning up, throwing dead sanguine like baseballs at those clutching to the ceiling above.

    On the north side of the warehouse, Tania, Peter, Tristan, and Katie were ranging among the sunlight, skewering sanguine who had fled the silver water to risk the light, only to find the pissed off members of Feed Wichita, armed with silver-coated clubs and swords. On the south side of the warehouse, he knew Crunch, Burg, and Bloodstain were doing the same, but with flesh-rending claws and overwhelming strength. And on the west and east side, his portals emitted powerful sunlight that shred any vamps desperate enough to risk a breakout.

    It was a complete rout and Terry turned his attention back to the elder.

    With a thought, he opened a full-sized portal to the warehouse floor. Flexing his aura, he hoisted the elder up by the silver mask, causing the creature to screech in renewed pain. He ferried him through the portal, then followed closely behind.

    As he stepped through with the elder held hovering above the ground, Whipvine whirled, poised to attack, then laughed at what he saw. The elder¡¯s feet dangled, kicking at open air comically.

    ¡°God damn, boy. If that isn¡¯t the most satisfying thing I¡¯ve seen all decade.¡±

    He walked over and poked the handle of a whip into the elder¡¯s side. The sanguine stopped clawing at the mask to swipe viciously at Whipvine, but the revenant dodged casually.

    ¡°You think this is good? Keep watching.¡±

    Terry forcibly turned the elder with his Metal Telekinesis until they were facing each other. With a subtle use of Liquefy Metal, he let some of the silver drain away until the elder¡¯s eyes and mouth were visible.

    ¡°Elder, for the crimes of terrorizing my city and murdering men, women, and¡ª¡±

    The sanguine snarled, spitting caustic fluid that Terry dodged easily.

    ¡°You¡¯ve doomed your city, spawnling!¡± The elder¡¯s voice was tight with clearly agonizing pain. ¡°My kind will swarm you and the lord of bones!¡±

    Terry laughed, summoning up his aura to create a portal ranging high above the darkness. The exit portal flashed into existence right in between the small gap he¡¯d made in the mask.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll burn them, too!¡± he growled.

    Light blossomed from the portal, filling the silver mask with golden-yellow rays. A blood-curdling scream echoed from the mask for a moment, then cut off suddenly. The elder¡¯s body convulsed for a heartbeat more, then went still.

    Righteous anger filled him as he thought about all the innocents these monsters had killed. He imagined the family of three he¡¯d saved from such a fate. Thought about Vlad bleeding out in his arms.

    A portal materialized above them, stretching wide enough to fit the elder¡¯s entire body. Light streamed down, sizzling on contact with his skin. Terry watched as it blackened, then smoked, until the sanguine elder was as dark as coal.

    Finally, he opened one last portal and shoved the elder¡¯s body through, depositing it miles into the air where the sun reigned.

    The elder¡¯s body would fall to the earth¡ªeventually¡ªbut only as ash and dust.

    He stared at the blue-silver portal, his blood pounding in his temples.

    It wasn¡¯t enough. A thousand dead sanguine who would never taste human blood again¡ªyet that was little consolation to their victims. An elder silvered, burned, and ashed¡ªyet there would be more where he came from.

    A city held hostage, finally released¡ªyet their captor remained in power, ready and able to maintain his hold by any means necessary.

    No, it wasn¡¯t enough.

    But it was something.

    A hand settled on his shoulder, pulling him from his melancholy. He looked over to see Whipvine¡¯s scars twisting into a sad smile.

    ¡°You did good, lad.¡± He barked out a tight laugh. ¡°It¡¯ll cause hell for the Emperor and those who serve him¡ª¡± He raised an eyebrow to include himself in that designation. ¡°¡ªbut you did good.¡±

    He wanted to resent the revenant¡ªWhipvine clearly supported the Emperor both by compulsion and by choice. But the mischievous twinkle in his eye, the hideous scars on his face, and the strength in his hand reminded Terry too much of the man who had been his lifelong friend and teacher. Despite everything, he still found himself thinking of the man as his friend.

    ¡°To what end, though, Whip? My grandfather seems hellbent on sabotaging his own city. It started with the draugr on the gates and continued with the sanguine. Not to mention the food situation.¡± He shook his head in defeat. ¡°Why, Whip? What¡¯s his endgame?¡±

    Terry thought he could see the indecision in Whipvine¡¯s face. A hopeful feeling welled up. Maybe he¡¯d finally turn against grandfather and do the right thing.

    But before he could reply, the front of the warehouse burst open. Tania charged through, a silver-edged sword held before her with wicked intent. The others followed behind her¡ªa touch more cautiously. Terry felt the three ghouls ranging around outside and sent his aura toward Crunch, holding him back.

    It would be better if Whipvine¡ªand by extension, the Emperor¡ªdidn¡¯t know of their involvement.

    ¡°Aw, man!¡± Tania complained from the entrance. ¡°You guys didn¡¯t save any of the fun for us!¡±

    They sloshed forward through the ankle-high water. Tania greeted Whipvine cheerfully and the man simply scowled in reply. The others seemed intimidated by the revenant and stayed behind Tania as they neared.

    He wondered if the man were poised to chew them out in a way he hadn¡¯t with Terry, but after a tense moment, he simply grunted and shook his head.

    ¡°Since you¡¯re all here,¡± Whipvine said. ¡°I¡¯ll inform you that the Emperor is obviously aware of your operation and intends to seize it.¡±

    Shocked expressions passed around the team, but it was Tania who spoke up first.

    ¡°And what¡¯s our magnanimous leader intend to do with our farm?¡± She crossed her arms defiantly. ¡°Cause if he plans to destroy it, it¡¯ll be over my dead body.¡±

    Whipvine scowled at her tone but shook his head.

    ¡°No, girl, he doesn¡¯t have plans to destroy it. I¡¯ll personally make sure it¡¯s distributed and receives the necessary upkeep to continue feeding the hungry.¡±

    Terry felt a bit of doubt welling up at that.

    ¡°How can you guarantee that, Whip?¡± He left the rest of the question unsaid: what if the Emperor just compels you?

    Whipvine eyed Terry with a determined look.

    ¡°He won¡¯t compel me on this, son. You¡¯ll just have to trust me.¡±

    A wave of tension settled over the team and Whipvine regarded them all with an impatient look. But Terry did trust the man, despite everything. If he asked for trust, he would give it to him.

    ¡°I trust you, Whip.¡± He looked between them all, giving them a steady look. ¡°Come on, guys. Let¡¯s head back to the warehouse. From there¡­¡± He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe the Emperor will hire you on to keep the farm going.¡±

    They shared dubious glances, but no one argued, which Terry took as a small victory.

    After such a battle, he felt like his aura should have been nearly drained. But the biggest pull on his power had been the swimming pool of water pumped through the portal. For his D-ranked aura, everything else had been relatively trivial.

    He wanted to marvel at his power, let a sense of pride well up after all they¡¯d been able to accomplish. But the uncertainty of the next few hours put him on edge.

    And when it really came down to it, he wasn¡¯t anywhere close to being able to challenge the Emperor¡ªcouldn''t even give one of his revenants something to think about. Until that day, the amount of good he could accomplish would be limited to subterfuge and planning.

    That feeling humbled him and reinforced that he couldn¡¯t flaunt this raid on the sanguine in front of the Emperor. His grandfather might see fit to punish or even restrict Terry¡¯s movements and that could not happen.

    If he wanted to free the region from the tyranny of his grandfather, he had to remain circumspect, only striking from the shadows. A guerrilla fighter against the rule of Emperor Necroton.

    But first, he needed to bring light back to Wichita.

 Chapter 61: Quest Complete

    With a flick of his aura, he parted space, connecting this warehouse to his own.

    Whipvine gave him an incredulous look.

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t explained to me how you¡¯re able to do that.¡±

    Terry just winked and stepped through the portal into the warehouse office. He immediately recognized the sounds of a commotion on the warehouse floor. As the others streamed through his portal, the pull on his aura was a distant thought.

    Down on the floor below, a hundred people were rushing about, while a dozen ghouls stood guard at the entrances.

    He couldn¡¯t help it¡ªthis felt like an invasion. No, more like a violation. His warehouse, his lair, was now swarming with his grandfather¡¯s people and he didn¡¯t like it one bit.

    But worse that that, was the man he saw gazing up at him from the floor below.

    War Crimes flashed him a smile, then a wink¡ªalmost in parody of the wink he had given Whipvine moments earlier.

    ¡°Why do I hate that man so much?¡±

    Terry turned to see Tania at his side, glaring down at the revenant below. He chuckled, shaking his head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­but I feel the exact same.¡±

    As they marched together down the stairs to the warehouse floor, War Crimes met them.

    ¡°Fancy seeing you all here,¡± the revenant said with a grin. ¡°Weird, I specifically stationed ghouls on all the entrances.¡± He studied them intently, a sly smile on his face. ¡°Do we have a Traveler among the bunch, then?¡±

    ¡°What is this?¡± Tania blurted out, ignoring the man. ¡°These idiots are ruining my system.¡±

    ¡°Ah, dear Titania. Delightful as always.¡± He turned to look back at the people running about and Tania took the moment his back was turned to give him the finger. ¡°The Emperor has seized this operation in the name of Wichita.¡± He turned back, his eyes settling on Terry. ¡°It¡¯s illegal to grow unsanctioned fruits and vegetables within the city walls.¡± A corner of his lip turned up in a smirk. ¡°Pests, you see.¡±

    A notification flashed into view, startling Terry.

    Quest Complete: [Feed Wichita]

    Calculating reward¡­

    New Upgradeable Affixation slot created ¡ª current rank: D

    System Note: This slot will rank up with the user.

    Quest Given: [Free Topeka]

    Emperor Necroton and the Council have turned Topeka into a warzone. The people suffer. Free Topeka from the influence of its neighbors.

    Reward: Variable

    Before he could process those notifications, Whipvine stepped forward, one hand unconsciously clenching a whip.

    ¡°Enough, Fletcher. I¡¯ve already explained the situation to them.¡± He turned so his body blocked War Crimes out of the conversation. ¡°You all have the Emperor¡¯s writ to leave the city. But he insists you come to the palace first. He has some stipulations on that writ. As for you two,¡± Whipvine said, turning toward Terry and Tania. ¡°The Emperor has requested your return to the palace.¡± He hesitated a moment before continuing. ¡°You¡¯re not to leave without his say so.¡±

    Tania scoffed defiantly. ¡°He¡¯s putting us on house arrest?¡±

    War Crimes spoke from behind Whipvine.

    ¡°Clothed, fed, and housed. There are worse situations for an orphan to find herself.¡±

    Her face darkened and she started to move around Whipvine, but Terry settled her with a hand on her arm. With a careful glance, he indicated the four Elementalists. Unlike Tania and himself, their home was the Market. And as far as he knew, without Vlad, they had no way back. They were his responsibility and he needed to stay focused on that.

    ¡°Okay, Whip,¡± Terry replied with a placating tone. ¡°Just let us say our goodbyes.¡±

    Whipvine studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. But War Crimes stepped around his fellow revenant, his hand trailing to a pistol.

    ¡°I know one of you is a Traveler.¡± War Crimes tone was deadly serious for once. ¡°If I get a whiff of a portal, the caster gets a face full of lead.¡±

    Terry felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to rip open a portal leading into solid stone and shove War Crimes through it. But he forced a smile on and nodded.

    ¡°We understand.¡±

    The revenant eyed him a moment longer, then flashed Terry his bone-white teeth in a parody of a smile.

    Terry led the others a few feet away, maintaining eye contact with them so they would see his cues.

    For some reason, he had a sense that the Emperor¡¯s stipulations were a ploy to tie off loose ends. There was a time he would have considered that idea paranoid, but he had seen how ruthless his grandfather could be and he didn¡¯t want to risk their lives on the bet that the Emperor could be altruistic.

    That was a losing bet if he¡¯d ever seen one.

    Once they were out of earshot, Tania turned to him with a snarl.

    ¡°Fuck house arrest,¡± she hissed. ¡°I won¡¯t live in a prison.¡±

    ¡°What about us?¡± Tristan asked quietly. ¡°How will we get back to the Market?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to find one of Terraform¡¯s people,¡± Katie said. ¡°That¡¯s the only way.¡±

    ¡°But where?¡± Alan asked.

    A panic was starting to form among them and he could feel the anger roiling off Tania. He held out his hand and leveled a steady gaze at the group.

    ¡°I have an alternative.¡± He slowly panned his eyes to each of them. ¡°If you¡¯re willing to hear it?¡±

    ¡°Anything¡¯s better than roaming the wastelands between cities,¡± Katie said.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Terry nodded, locking eyes with Tania before speaking.

    ¡°I say¡­we leave Wichita together.¡± He felt the shock in the others¡¯ auras but kept his gaze on Tania. ¡°I say¡­we head where we¡¯re needed most.¡±

    Her eyes searched him in confusion, then a sly smile formed on Tania¡¯s face.

    ¡°Topeka?¡± she whispered.

    He let his own matching smile form in response.

    No one spoke for a moment, then Katie broke the silence.

    ¡°I¡¯m with you, Terry.¡± She chuckled quietly. ¡°After everything I¡¯ve seen you do, there¡¯s no doubt in my mind you¡¯re gonna accomplish great things. I wouldn¡¯t mind being a part of that.¡±

    ¡°Me, too.¡± It was quiet Peter who spoke, shocking them all for a few moments. ¡°I¡¯ll follow wherever you go, Terry.¡±

    Alan nodded agreement, but Tristan glanced skeptically over Terry¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°But how?¡± he asked softly. ¡°That psycho A-ranker is watching us like a hawk.¡±

    ¡°Leave him to me. Just be ready to jump into the portal.¡±

    They all exchanged looks before nodding, though he could sense their auras shifting wildly in nervous anticipation. He turned to see Whipvine conversing with War Crimes about a hundred feet away. But Terry wasn¡¯t fooled into thinking the revenants were distracted. For them, clearing a hundred feet could be done in a blink. More than that, War Crimes pistols could be fired with unbelievable accuracy and speed.

    It was a risk, but one they all were willing to take.

    Splitting his focus, he prepared a portal, imagining a familiar place where they could regroup before setting off. With another part of his focus, he began to activate Master of Light.

    Even though he hadn¡¯t actually activated a Skill yet, War Crimes¡¯ head perked up, his eyes narrowing. He cut Whipvine off and began to approach, his hand trailing to the pistol at his hip.

    Terry activated Master of Light, both turning the group and himself invisible, then started walking away, creating distance between him and the revenants. With another application of Master of Light, he also bent the light away from War Crimes eyes to effectively blind the man. With all three instances of Master of Light running, he finally finished the portal, willing the opaque oval into existence with a whoosh.

    So many things happened at once, Terry could only process them after the fact.

    Tania and the four Elementalists leaped through his portal¡ªhe felt the pull on his aura, though he couldn¡¯t see them. War Crimes cried out as he was blinded, wasting a precious second to push his power out, drowning the aura around his eyes, effectively killing the Skill. At the same moment, Whipvine dashed for the portal, looking to cut off the group¡¯s escape.

    As the blinding effect of Master of Light dissipated, War Crimes drew and fired three shots, the sound making Terry¡¯s ears ring. He felt one of the bullets hit his portal, the sheer energy of its passage smashing the portal closed, his aura not strong enough to transfer that much force at once.

    He didn¡¯t try to hold it open, knowing instinctively that five bodies had passed through already. Whipvine reached the portal just as the bullets arrived and Terry saw the revenant twist through the air¡ªpresumably to dodge one of the bullets that had nearly hit him.

    With Tania and the Elementalists gone, only Terry, Whipvine, and War Crimes remained¡ªthough Terry remained invisible.

    Whipvine whirled on the other revenant, his face a mask of fury.

    ¡°Did you take a shot at me, baby killer?¡±

    War Crimes also looked furious, but that anger appeared directed toward where the team had fled. But as Whipvine charged the man, he turned his attention away from where the portal had stood to address his fellow revenant.

    ¡°I was discharging the portal, you fool. When I take a shot at you, it¡¯ll be from ten klicks on a windless day.¡± He leaned in with a humorless smile. ¡°And I won¡¯t miss.¡±

    Terry simply shook his head in disappointment. He could have taken his portal with the others, but stayed behind to see just how doggedly the two revenants might pursue. Considering their current bickering, he had worried for nothing.

    ¡°Hey, War Crimes,¡± he called from across the warehouse floor, letting his Master of Light drop. Both revenants¡¯ heads shot up in surprise. ¡°Fuck you.¡± Then, Terry gave him the finger and opened another portal, stepping through before either of the men could react.

    When he arrived on the other side, he let it go, taking in the well-lit exterior of the sanguine warehouse. His sunlit portals still remained, shining brighter than any stadium lights ever could.

    Crunch loped over from where he had been waiting with Burg and Blood.

    ¡°My prince?¡±

    There was a lot of subtext in those simple words, even without the accompanying aura shape to clarify.

    ¡°The Emperor intends to lock me in the palace¡ªperhaps for good. He doesn¡¯t perceive me as a hero or a villain¡ªjust a nuisance to be managed and contained.¡± He studied Crunch¡¯s face, then Burg and Blood behind him. ¡°But I refuse to be managed. I refuse to be contained. I¡¯m heading to Topeka to continue undoing the pain and suffering inflicted by my family.¡± He hesitated, afraid to say what needed to be said. ¡°I understand if you three can¡¯t follow¡­but please, don¡¯t try and stop me.¡±

    Aura rippled between the three as rapid-fire ghoulish grated against his ears, too fast and nuanced for him to follow.

    After some back and forth, Crunch turned to address Terry.

    ¡°Our duty to protect prince. We go where prince go.¡±

    Terry felt his heart unclench, a smile touching his face. He hadn¡¯t realized how much it would have hurt to leave the three ghouls behind until this exact moment.

    With a flex of aura, he opened a portal to where he¡¯d sent Tania and the others.

    ¡°Please wait for me there. I just have one more thing to do.¡±

    <hr>

    Solomon Rosenthal

    A thousand feet beneath the surface. In utter darkness.

    Over a year had passed, according to Penelope¡¯s child. Over a year in complete darkness, cut off from his element, his aura drained. Sol¡¯s mind had turned against him.

    It was a fate worse than death.

    He¡¯d contemplated embracing death many times, considered the ways he could make it happen in the tight confines of his cell. There were no tools to cut his flesh or bludgeon himself against. Only the hard stone walls and his thin blanket. He had regarded that thin blanket a thousand times over the months, imagined hanging himself by it and finally embracing sweet release.

    The truth he had finally come to realize about himself¡ªthe awful realization thrust upon him against his will¡ªwas that¡­he was a coward.

    He finally acknowledged it after decades of denial.

    I¡¯ve faced the Swarm, he had told himself. I¡¯ve clashed with Emperor Necroton a dozen times. I was one of the first to complete my Capstone and claim true power!

    How could a man with my accolades be a coward¡­?

    But the thing about being forced into a tiny cell with no visitors was, it gave one a lot of time to self-reflect. More than he had wanted, but just enough to strip away the veneer of lies he had built around his psyche.

    He no longer entertained grandiose ideas of breaking free and raining fire on Wichita in righteous vengeance. The thought of burning Terrence¡¯s city to the ground had lost all appeal.

    That wasn¡¯t to say he had lost his will to fight; far from it. With him gone, it was easy to imagine the state of Topeka. It wouldn¡¯t be a stretch for Terrence to have claimed the city for himself. Or worse, the Council¡ªthose self-serving sycophants.

    When he envisioned returning to free his city, it wasn¡¯t riding in on a ray of glorious sunlight like he would have once done. No, his imprisonment had fundamentally changed him.

    Were he ever to be free of this damned cell, he resolved to be circumspect, strike from the shadows in sharp contrast to his dominion over light.

    He would never allow himself to be captured like this again.

    Idle daydreams, he admitted. You¡¯re never leaving this hell, Sol.

    And then, the hallucinations began.

    Light streamed into his vision, subtle, no brighter than a pinprick of daylight, yet burning his eyes as if he were staring directly at the sun.

    He scampered away from the pain, pressing his face against the stone wall in primal fear.

    Why! he raged. Why would my mind play such a cruel trick on me?

    But no matter how long he ignored the tempting mirage, it didn¡¯t dissipate or leave him to his quiet suffering. It continued to burn at the corners of his vision and he slowly, hesitantly let his eyes open.

    His aura¡ªneglected for so long, he¡¯d forgotten it existed¡ªbegan to stir. Power called to him, tantalizing and seductive.

    It was a trick of the mind¡­right?

    He hated his cowardice, hated how he feared the illusion. With a growl, he turned to face the light interloping into his pitch-black prison.

    His breath left him, his thoughts flipped upside down.

    A small, fist-sized portal split the air a few feet from him.

    Streaming through that portal was a view of a tiny stone room. On the ground, a small candle burned¡ªthe very source of light that had seemed so unbearably bright a moment earlier. Propped against the candle was a slip of paper.

    He leaned in, blinking away the prolonged disuse of his eyes in order to focus on the words written on its surface.

    Return to the light, Sol. Your city needs you.

    - Terry

    Time passed as he tried to convince himself that this was some trick¡ªthat Terrence was baiting him with a sliver of hope, just so it could be yanked cruelly away.

    But as he waited for the prank to run its course, he realized that the candle continued to burn down, nearly a third of its wick used up already.

    The flame reached the edge of the note propped against the candle, and fire flared up as it caught on the paper. The intensity of the light increased as the paper burned, revealing five more candles inside his cell, scattered about the floor.

    With a flash of determination, he grasped the opportunity¡ªand damn Terrence to hell if this was all some trick. The light responded to his pull, streaming from the burning paper and the lit candle through the portal. He fed it into his core, deep inside where he stored his energy.

    For so long, that core had been dry, guttered out entirely from his final attack.

    But for the first time in what felt like years, there was power there.

    And with it¡­hope.

 Chapter 62: Bringer of Light

    Tania, Katie, Tristan, Peter, and Alan spoke in low voices as they waited at the Keeper of the Plains plaza for Terry to return. Terry¡¯s three ghoul bodyguards were present as well, though they ranged around in the fog, scouting for errant sanguine who might have survived the raid.

    Dalton was also present, though he was sitting in the idling armored vehicle on the nearby road. Terry had portaled both the man and the vehicle to their location thirty minutes earlier. The driver had requested to come and the armored car would see them safely across the wasteland stretching between Wichita and Topeka.

    ¡°What¡¯s taking so long?¡± Katie asked no one in particular. ¡°I feel like there¡¯s eyes on me in this fog.¡±

    ¡°Never did get used to it,¡± Alan added, hunching his shoulders up protectively.

    Tania forced a stoic tone in her voice, though she also felt utterly exposed in the plaza. Whipvine¡ªor worse, War Crimes¡ªcould be racing toward them at A-rank speeds even now. ¡°Be patient, he knows what he¡¯s doing.¡±

    That settled them for a bit and the group forced themselves into some idle chatter. A minute later, Tristan¡¯s eyes went wide as he looked at something over Tania¡¯s shoulder. She whirled around, her heart suddenly racing as she expected a revenant, a sanguine spawnling, or even the Emperor himself.

    Instead¡ªin the distance¡ªshe saw a flash of bright light.

    No, not a flash.

    Light blossomed far away in the night sky, fighting against the heavy fog¡ªand losing. But a moment later, another spark lit, slightly closer and fighting just as hard to penetrate the Emperor¡¯s working.

    Then, another. And another.

    They continued to materialize in the distance, growing ever closer; like a string of lights hung up in a backyard, but as bright as the sun.

    As they approached, Tristan was the first to realize what they were seeing.

    ¡°He¡¯s using his portals to light up Wichita!¡± He turned to face the others wide eyed. ¡°He¡¯s dispelling the darkness!¡±

    No one spoke as the lights continued to bloom, spread equidistant from each other by a few hundred feet. It was a far cry from the full light of a normal summer day; but to Wichita, it was as if the sun had finally returned.

    Shouts of shock and joy rang up from nearby and Tania could imagine them echoed all across the city.

    When a portal appeared directly over the Keeper of the Plains and sunlight streamed down on their faces, even they couldn¡¯t help but cheer.

    Terry appeared a moment later, sweat beading on his brow, his hair loose from his usual ponytail, stringy against his sweat-soaked face.

    ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯ve got,¡± he said wearily. ¡°I left just enough juice to get us outside the walls.¡±

    The members of Feed Wichita swarmed him, cheering and slapping him on the back or wrapping him in hugs. He seemed taken aback at first, then smiled as their celebrations infected him.

    As for Tania, she kept herself restrained, letting the others drown him in praise.

    His head was big enough already without her gushing over him too.

    When the others settled back, Terry looked over at her, a weary smile on his face.

    ¡°Whatdya say? Ready to go see the world?¡±

    She snorted. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the world, remember? Anyways, Topeka hardly counts as the world.¡±

    He chuckled at that, the corners of his lips turning up slightly.

    As he leaned in, Tania quietly gasped. His eyes burned with a golden fire that had never been there before.

    ¡°Topeka¡¯s just the start, Tania. We¡¯re going to make a difference in this world.¡± He turned to regard them all with a steady stare, his eyes still alit with golden flecks of power. ¡°We¡¯re going to bring hope to the hopeless and show this world that good does still exist.¡±

    And to her surprise, she believed him.

    <hr>

    The armored truck bounced over the untamed wilderness outside Wichita. It was crowded in the vehicle, but the hopeful mood kept everyone in good spirits. They argued over who had killed the most sanguine, laughing as Alan claimed victory by reminding them of the silver-infused flood. Then they joked about the look on War Crimes¡¯ face as they portaled away directly under his nose. The mood sobered a bit as they remembered Flore and Vlad, but the conversation ultimately trended hopeful as they all agreed that their deaths hadn¡¯t been in vain.

    Wichita was once again illuminated and no longer hungry¡ªand that would have to be enough.

    But Terry only half-listened as the rest talked; his mind couldn¡¯t help but return to the roses in his bag that he hadn¡¯t yet dived into.

    Settling into the corner near the window, he pulled out one of the two roses and held it between his fingers. The truth lay in these last two roses; his unfulfilled Quest confirmed as much. At first, he had been so eager to decode his mother¡¯s roses, get to the truth of her disappearance as fast as possible.

    Now, he hesitated.

    Is ignorance bliss? he wondered.

    No. After everything he¡¯d learned, everything he¡¯d seen, he knew that to be false. He wouldn¡¯t be like Mesmer, hiding from the truth like a coward. He would face it head on and deal with the consequences.

    Taking a deep breath, he accepted the notification prompt to decode the rose.

    [The White Rose] Quest Updated

    3 of 4 White Roses decoded.

    He dismissed the message and dove into the first rose.

    The void that was becoming familiar stretched out below him. Green balls of light hung in space, strung together in a line. Some instinct told him this was his father¡¯s rose even before he selected the first memory.

    As the scene resolved in his mind, he recognized his parents in their bedroom. He hesitated, afraid he might be walking into a memory that contained things about his parents that no child wanted to witness. His father was reading a book on the bed as his mother walked into the room.

    She stopped at the door and Terry could see her trembling. But James didn¡¯t take his eyes off the book as he spoke.

    ¡°Hey, hon. How was your walk?¡±

    His tone was light, distracted. But when she didn¡¯t answer, his eyes flicked up from the page. He dropped his book and sat up in surprise.

    ¡°Pen? What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°James¡­¡± Her voice trembled, hesitation and fear obvious in an instant. ¡°I have something¡ª¡± She cut off, tears suddenly streaming down her face.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    His father rushed over, his eyes wide as he grabbed his mother by her arms.

    ¡°What is it?¡± She looked away and he bent down until they were eye to eye. ¡°Pen? You¡¯re scaring me.¡± His eyes flashed, panic spreading in an instant. ¡°Is it Terry? Oh, God, what happened?¡±

    She shook her head frantically, the tears flying away.

    ¡°No,¡± she said, her voice tight. ¡°Terry¡¯s fine. He¡¯s in his room.¡±

    James let out a sigh of relief, then narrowed his eyes.

    ¡°Then what is it?¡±

    She looked up at him now and Terry moved through the memory to get a better look at her face.

    God, I miss her face¡­

    ¡°I-I received a Quest¡ª¡± James¡¯ face dropped and he suddenly recoiled.

    ¡°Pen! Don¡¯t!¡±

    She looked pained, but her face suddenly set in a determined grimace, as if she were fighting through terrible agony.

    ¡°Listen to me, James. I received a Quest¡ª¡± She closed her eyes against the pain, forcing the words out. ¡°¡ªthat I can¡¯t complete.¡±

    ¡°Stop.¡± He was whispering now, his voice weak.

    She shook her head, her jaw clenching over and over again.

    ¡°Listen,¡± she hissed through her teeth. ¡°I need to die.¡±

    James wheeled back, his legs clipping against the bed, causing him to stumble. He didn¡¯t seem to notice, his eyes wide, horrified.

    But his mother¡¯s face was hardened now, and she continued through gritted teeth.

    ¡°You need to make¡­me¡­revenant.¡±

    ¡°Pen, no!¡± he gasped.

    ¡°Listen to me.¡± She approached him slowly, her eyes burning silver. ¡°I can¡¯t see it coming. My System is fighting me¡ª¡± Her eyes clenched tight. ¡°¡ªeven now.¡±

    James continued backing away from her until his heels hit the dresser.

    ¡°Pen¡ª¡±

    She cut across him, her eyes snapping open.

    ¡°I. Can¡¯t. See. It. Coming.¡±

    She collapsed to one knee, her breaths ragged.

    Terry pulled out of the memory, his father¡¯s horror echoed inside his own mind.

    She knew it would happen. She asked for it¡­

    A Quest she couldn¡¯t complete? Her System fighting her the entire time¡­

    It was like a horror sim come to life. He couldn¡¯t imagine his System fighting to control his very body. Was that what happened if Awakened broke the rules?

    He considered the memories arrayed before him and felt a confusing jumble of fear and anticipation.

    There were secrets here¡ªsecrets that had been kept from him for years.

    He yearned to unlock those secrets, the answers to the questions that had been plaguing him for over a year.

    But he was also terrified. What had been so dangerous that his mother had considered death a better alternative? Existing as a revenant the solution?

    He had to know.

    With a thought, he dove into the next memory.

    They were in his parents¡¯ suite again, his father entering through the door with a determined stride. He turned to the office connected to the main room and knocked briefly before pushing the door open. There his mother sat, one of her white roses held gingerly between her fingers.

    ¡°I made one for you,¡± she whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

    His father¡¯s voice was laced with heat.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want one, dammit.¡± He stomped toward her, pulling the rose from her hand and throwing it across the room. Her eyes followed the rose slowly, as if in a daze. ¡°I want you, Pen. Not some¡­some¡­¡±

    ¡°Undead slave?¡± Her gaze snapped up now, mirroring James¡¯ fire. ¡°Is that what you think of Sebastian? Of Nick? The others? Are they just your father¡¯s slaves?¡±

    James couldn¡¯t match her stare and he looked at the carpet as he chewed his lip.

    ¡°No¡­I guess not¡­¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t hesitate.¡± She reached up and cupped his face, lifting it until their eyes met. ¡°I love you and Terry more than anything, James.¡± Her eyes burned silver. ¡°But if you don¡¯t do this¡­I¡¯ll do it myself.¡±

    He reared back, recoiling from her grip.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that!¡± he hissed.

    There were no tears in her eyes now, only a frigid surety.

    ¡°This is the only way¡­¡±

    ¡°What if I asked my father¡ª¡±

    Her eyes cut back hard enough to make James flinch.

    ¡°Absolutely not! If you let him turn me, I will never forgive you.¡±

    He held his hands up, his eyes wide.

    ¡°Okay, Pen.¡± His voice was weary, defeated. ¡°Okay¡­¡± He stepped closer, hesitant, unsure. ¡°Is there no other way?¡±

    She shook her head and her face softened.

    ¡°No, my love. There isn¡¯t.¡±

    His lips set as he searched her eyes¡ªperhaps looking for some other way out. After a moment, he nodded, leaving without another word.

    The memory ended and Terry was into the next without a thought.

    James was alone with the Emperor, talking in low tones, explaining what he had agreed to do.

    Terry expected his grandfather to argue, convince him to push back against Terry¡¯s mother, or perhaps even offer to turn her himself.

    Instead, he simply sighed and nodded.

    ¡°What do you need from me?¡± the Emperor asked.

    Terry¡¯s mind reeled at what his father said next.

    ¡°Order Cillian to do it. He¡¯s the only one that she would never see coming.¡±

    War Crimes¡­that bastard.

    Things suddenly clicked into place inside his mind. The first memory from his own rose had been his mother¡¯s murder¡ªa gunshot straight to the heart. He had never connected the means to the revenant, would never have expected his grandfather¡¯s own revenant to murder his mother. But he hadn¡¯t known this had been planned.

    Then, something the Emperor had said yesterday in the war room flashed into his mind.

    ¡°Your mother¡¯s murderer is long dead.¡±

    The unspoken part came to him like a blow: because he¡¯s a revenant.

    A part of him demanded he turn the caravan around and hunt War Crimes down. His mother¡¯s murderer still roamed the Earth and he wasn¡¯t sure if he could live with that fact. But the rational part of him knew that he wasn¡¯t ready to take on the A-ranked Duelist. He was too weak, still.

    But one day, he¡¯d make the revenant pay.

    It didn¡¯t matter that the man had been put up to it by his parents. It didn¡¯t matter that the Emperor had given his tacit approval.

    That man had been a stain on humanity for decades and it was past time for someone to put him in the dirt once and for all.

    But for now, there were more memories to consume and more answers to uncover.

    As the next memory materialized, the man in question came into view and Terry felt his blood boil.

    James approached War Crimes inside the car depot and the revenant had a brief look of surprise before masking his expression with a wry smile.

    ¡°My prince.¡± He emphasized the word with a sarcasm that Terry had come to associate with the man. ¡°You aren¡¯t looking for me, by chance?¡±

    Terry could see his father fighting to hide his loathing of the man¡ªand failing. He took a deep breath, then met War Crimes¡¯ eyes.

    ¡°I have a request for you, Cillian.¡± War Crimes facade faltered for the briefest moment. ¡°It¡¯s the most important thing I¡¯ll ever ask of you.¡± James crossed his arms. ¡°It¡¯s the last thing I¡¯ll ask of you.¡±

    The memory continued as James explained what he needed and War Crimes went from shocked, to curious, and finally, to excitement.

    ¡°So, just to be clear. You want me to kill the princess. From distance. With a rifle. And¡­the Emperor is on board with this?¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t help but notice the smile on the revenant¡¯s face and he felt his anger ignite once more.

    ¡°Yes, Cillian.¡± James leaned in, his face terrifying in its intensity. ¡°But I need to be there to turn her. If you do this and I¡¯m not there, I will torture you for a hundred years.¡± He stepped in until they were face to face. ¡°Do you understand?¡±

    War Crimes snorted, the corner of his lip turning up in a smirk.

    ¡°Oh, I understand, my prince. Rifle shot¡ª¡± He jabbed a finger into James¡¯ sternum. ¡°¡ªright there. Can¡¯t see it coming. And you have to be there.¡± He clicked his tongue. ¡°Roger.¡±

    His father whirled around, leaving without another word and the memory faded.

    Rather than stew in his hatred for War Crimes, he moved to the next memory¡ªonly to recognize that fateful day.

    The three of them were on that familiar trail by the river, walking hand in hand. He watched as little Terry ran off. Watched as the bullet hit his mother dead center. Watched as his father stared in horror at his dead wife and his screaming child.

    He had seen this memory once before, but had ejected early from pure shock. Now, he resolved to watch it in its entirety.

    His father was yelling now, trying to force younger Terry to stay back, look away. He picked the boy up and carried him off, depositing him out of sight of his mother.

    ¡°Stay here!¡± he yelled, then ran back to the body.

    No, not a body¡ªnot yet. He watched as James sprinted back at superhuman speeds toward his mother, crouching down to cradle her head. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused as she stared up at the trees.

    ¡°Pen? Pen!¡±

    Her confusion melted away and she locked her gaze on James.

    ¡°Te-Ter¡ª¡± She cut off as a bloody cough took her.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you, Pen. I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°Terry?¡± she breathed.

    James shot his gaze back toward younger Terry, his eyes narrowing as he spotted War Crimes standing next to the boy, his hand on Terry¡¯s shoulder, that vicious smirk seeming to cut into him.

    ¡°You bastard,¡± he muttered.

    Another cough wracked Terry¡¯s mother, and James snapped back to her.

    ¡°What have I done?¡± He clenched her hand, cradling her head. ¡°What have I done?¡±

    She met his eyes, her mouth moving, though no words came out. He leaned over, putting his ear to her mouth. Terry found he could hear the whisper, even from his vantage.

    ¡°I love you.¡±

    The life went out of her eyes, her head falling limp in James¡¯ hand. His father began to sob, even as Terry felt his aura stir. It began to seep into his mother¡¯s body, penetrating the flesh and infecting her limbs.

    After a handful of minutes, the work seemed to be done, though his mother remained inert. Then, James gently set her head down, pulled back the fingers clenched tight around his hand, and turned toward War Crimes with a terrible anger that would have frightened Terry were this anything but a memory.

    War Crimes still had his hand on younger Terry¡¯s shoulder and was leaning down, speaking softly to the boy. His head shot up just in time to see James bull into him, tackling him to the ground.

    Fists pistoned into the revenant¡¯s face, even as tears streamed down James¡¯.

    ¡°IN FRONT OF MY SON!¡± he screamed, his fists smashing over and over. ¡°YOU DID IT IN FRONT OF MY SON?¡±

    To Terry¡¯s eyes, it seemed that his father was about to finish War Crimes off once and for all. Though he knew internally the revenant was still around, there was something implacable about his father¡¯s fury. Nothing could stop this pure rage, this raw hatred that flowed through James¡¯ body and into his fists.

    Nothing, except what happened next.

    Younger Terry began to scream. No words, just a terrible, single-note scream. His eyes were clenched tight and his hands pressed against his ears.

    The scream was so blood-curdling, Terry wanted to cry as he watched himself break down completely.

    James stopped hitting the revenant, the blank look in his eyes faltering as he saw Terry. In an instant, he was off the man, wrapping Terry in a bear hug and whispering softly into his ear.

    The memory continued, but Terry felt his mind retreat, only distantly paying attention as the sound of his younger self screaming played over and over again in his mind.

 Chapter 63: The Giver

    He forced himself to continue watching the memory, but knew distantly that he wasn¡¯t paying attention. A haze seemed to settle over his thoughts, like they were trudging through mud.

    Even though that hadn¡¯t been him screaming¡ªnot exactly¡ªit still dug into his heart to witness the raw trauma in his younger self. For the first time since he¡¯d begun decoding memories within the roses, he could maybe, possibly, understand the need to hide away this specific memory.

    After the rest of the memory played out, he ejected and took a moment to calm his mind.

    But no matter how much he tried, all he could think about was War Crimes¡¯ sly smirk, his hand around younger Terry¡¯s shoulder, and the words he might have whispered into his ear.

    With a thought, he exited his father¡¯s rose and entered his own. That first memory called to him and he answered. The scene resolved just as it had for his father, though now he inhabited the body of his younger self.

    No matter how he tried, there was no way to fast forward the memory. He mentally gritted his teeth, forced to watch his mother die for a third time, until he finally reached the part of the memory where War Crimes walked over to him. He was turned away from his mother¡¯s body, just where his father had left him.

    War Crimes put an arm around Terry¡¯s shoulder and bodily moved him until he was forced to stare at his dying mother. His younger self was too numb to push back against the revenant¡¯s shepherding, but his own mind seethed.

    ¡°Knowing your mother, she¡¯ll remove this memory from your brain.¡± The man crouched down, meeting him eye to eye. ¡°That¡¯s what they do, see? The Fairways are slavers and your mother is more Fairway than she¡¯d care to admit. Manipulating memories to control you is no better than Terrence himself. I doubt she¡¯ll ever personally witness this memory of yours¡ªit would be too traumatic.¡± He chuckled darkly. ¡°So this will be just¡­between¡­us.¡± He punctuated each word with a sharp jab to the chest. His smile spread wide¡ªtoo wide, manic even. ¡°I enjoyed killing your mother, see? I especially enjoyed doing it in front of you. In front of your father.¡± His hand twitched, now, his smile twisting into a rictus grin. ¡°And if I could, I¡¯d blow your little brains out right now.¡±

    Terry could only stare back in horror, stunned silent in front of War Crimes¡¯ deranged rant.

    Sanity seemed to return, the revenant¡¯s hand stopped twitching. His teeth flashed in his usual wry smile.

    ¡°I killed your mother, you little brat. When you finally remember that, come find me and put me down¡ª¡±

    His head shot up just as James tackled him to the ground. Fists smashed into his face. Then, the screaming began.

    Terry ejected from the memory, then the rose entirely. His forehead was beaded in sweat, his palms slick, his heart drumming against his chest. He wiped his hands against his jeans, then took a shuddering breath.

    He felt Tania¡¯s gaze at his side and flicked his eyes over. She guarded her expression well, but he couldn¡¯t help but notice the worry there.

    He shook his head at the unasked question and turned away to look out the window. Talking right now felt like a monumental task and he silently thanked Tania when she didn¡¯t press the issue.

    Once his breathing and heart rate were under control, he considered War Crimes¡¯ words with a detachment that surprised him. Something about the way the man had spoken had triggered a realization inside Terry¡¯s mind.

    War Crimes was unquestionably evil and he couldn¡¯t blame servitude under the Emperor for that¡ªthe man had chosen his moniker for a reason. But did that justify forcing him to serve as a revenant for potentially forever?

    And Terry wasn¡¯t fooled by the man¡¯s manic appearance inside that distant memory. It had been an act, a ploy. He¡¯d played the role of the rabid dog, hoping that an older Terry would one day take him out for good in a fit of revenge.

    End his servitude.

    Did I even want to anymore¡­by letting him live, I prolong his suffering. But by killing him, I avenge my mother¡­and myself.

    It was too confusing, the emotions blurred inside his mind. Those were questions for another time¡ªhe didn¡¯t have the power to kill War Crimes regardless.

    All he could do was focus on the here and now. And that meant he had to finish witnessing his parents¡¯ memories.

    The next memory started in his parents¡¯ bedroom. He realized almost immediately that he¡¯d heard this argument¡ªeven if he hadn¡¯t seen it.

    His mother was returned as his revenant now and the tension between them was obvious. She asked¡ªbegged¡ªto take his memories.

    ¡°We¡¯ll go back to how it was before,¡± she pleaded.

    As the memory faded, his father finally relented.

    Now, James was in their bathroom, sitting on a stool in front of the vanity.

    He was perched on the edge of that stool, his leg bouncing with clear anxiety. He was staring toward the vanity mirror, his eyes burning green.

    As Terry¡¯s perspective came to a halt, he watched as his father began to speak to himself, his eyes glued to the mirror the entire time.

    ¡°I make this proclamation of sound body and mind. My wife¡­is dead. I knew it would happen and I agreed to her¡­¡± His voice caught and he cleared it. ¡°Her death. As we planned, she is now my revenant¡­¡±

    His eyes trailed away and he suddenly stood up. Terry watched as he did a circuit of the room, checking the shower stall, the bathtub¡ªeven inside the linen closet. When he returned to the stool and looked back at the mirror, his lips were set tight. ¡°As you can tell, there¡¯s no one with me. There¡¯s no possibility of compulsion or Hypnotist influence¡ªnot at our rank. I say this to myself in order to make it clear¡­I am making this decision of my own free will.¡±

    Terry watched in confusion, not understanding what decision he was talking about. Turning his mother into a revenant?

    The memory continued and James¡¯ eyes softened.

    ¡°Penelope and I both agreed that she will have free rein to alter my memories¡­to remove any evidence or indication that she is my revenant.¡± He visibly swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. ¡°It takes a lot of trust to give away unfettered access to our mind, but this is what¡¯s best for our family. To the future me¡­I hope you understand.¡±

    The memory cut off and Terry found himself floating back above the void.

    So dad had been fully complicit the entire time¡­

    It didn¡¯t completely surprise him, but he did feel a rush of anger threaten to consume him.

    Nobody asked me for my consent¡­

    Green balls of light danced in the void and Terry forced himself into the next memory.

    His parents were on the couch in their sitting room, their hands linked tight.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to start.¡± His mother¡¯s tone was tight, her eyes searching James¡¯ face closely.

    He nodded briefly, holding her gaze as her eyes sparked silver.

    Aura shifted to his senses, nearly powerful enough to remind Terry of the Emperor. It seeped into his father¡¯s own aura and the man flinched. Slowly, James¡¯ aura began to change. Almost as if paint were splashed into a pool, his mother¡¯s aura began to tint his father¡¯s. The whole while, his father had his eyes clenched tight, perhaps resisting the impulse to fight back.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    After a few minutes, his mother¡¯s aura peeled back and his father blinked slowly, as if awakening from a deep sleep.

    ¡°Pen? You okay?¡±

    The sadness in her eyes was impossible to miss. She bit her lip, nodding even as a tear slipped free. The memory ended and Terry floated in the void, trying and failing to understand the decisions his parents had made.

    What kind of life was that? he wondered. Constantly altering the inherent experiences of your husband and child to hide the trail leading back to your death. It must eventually have become so wearisome¡­

    The rest of his father¡¯s rose contained simple memories¡ªinstances where the memory distortion failed or was too slow to alter his father¡¯s senses before he spotted something out of the ordinary. In those cases, his mother was forced to extract it and encode it in the rose.

    He slipped free from his father¡¯s rose and pulled his mother¡¯s from the backpack. For a while, he simply stared at it, terrified of what he might find.

    His own rose had been traumatic to uncover for obvious reasons, while Mesmer¡¯s had been tragic in the sense that he no longer respected his longtime mentor. But his father¡¯s had felt more sad than anything. It was a glimpse into a man whose love for his wife transcended everything¡ªeven his own autonomy and sense of self.

    But what would he find inside his mother¡¯s rose? Would he go crawling to his father, begging to be turned after witnessing whatever resided inside her hidden memories?

    There was no world where he didn¡¯t find out. Even his own System had been guiding him toward this moment. With trembling fingers clutching the rose tight, he accepted the notification to decode the final white rose.

    [The White Rose] Quest Complete

    4 of 4 White Roses decoded.

    Calculating reward¡­

    Rather than wait for the System to finish, he simply entered the rose.

    Immediately, things were different than the other three roses. Instead of a single row of memories like he¡¯d come to expect, his mother¡¯s seemed to be categorized into columns. When he approached one of the columns with his mind, he knew intuitively that the dozen memories here were all childhood trauma. He moved to another column that was marked as Fights with James. But the one that drew his eye first, was a column stretching dozens of memories long. As he approached, a message seemed to stab into his brain:

    DO NOT CONSUME

    He balked at that, instinctively turning away from those specific memories as if there were a Hypnotist compulsion tied into the warning. It took him a moment to realize what had happened and he stubbornly returned to those memories. The warning flashed again and he felt his mind try to steer him away, but he fought the effect, maintaining focus with dogged determination.

    After a minute where his mind yo-yo-ed back and forth, the push eased off and he was able to slide into the first memory of the taboo category.

    His mother came into view and Terry instantly recognized the palace around her. She was in a familiar hallway, heading toward his grandfather¡¯s throne room. Quiet voices echoed from a nearby door¡ªwhispers that should have been lost, but were enhanced by her superhuman hearing.

    ¡°I received a Quest this morning.¡±

    The voice was familiar and his mother faltered¡ªboth at the speaker and the subject.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Another familiar voice. ¡°I spoke with the Giver and they agreed to pull you into the Quest.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t understand how the two of them were able to openly discuss their Quests, let alone collaborate on one. But even more shocking than that, was the name they used and the implication of a being capable of pulling someone into a Quest. And judging by the dawning look of horror on his mother¡¯s face, she was just as shocked as he was.

    ¡°But why?¡± The voice was unmistakable now; his father¡¯s anger was clear in the tone. ¡°War with Topeka serves no purpose!¡±

    ¡°It is not our role to question the Giver,¡± the Emperor hissed. ¡°Ours is to obey.¡±

    Before Terry could process what he was hearing, his mother was reeling away, her face drawn in open shock. A few stumbling steps led into a full sprint and Terry¡¯s disembodied mind was pulled along as his mother sprinted down the palace halls.

    She ran past servants, ghouls, and human guards, stopping for nothing. When she was back in her room, she collapsed against the wall, her breathing frantic, coming in heaving gulps.

    Her eyes focused on something before her, wide and terrified.

    ¡°No¡­¡± she breathed. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­¡± Her face shifted, her eyes narrowing now. ¡°I won¡¯t!¡±

    He realized that he was missing something in the exchange¡ªsome System message, perhaps.

    She shook her head angrily.

    ¡°Take it back. Now!¡±

    He shifted his perspective, angling until his view was mirroring his mother¡¯s. She was staring at the wall¡ªat nothing, really.

    Her hand waved in front of her with a dismissive swipe.

    She was clearing a System notification, he realized.

    ¡°Anything else.¡± She was sobbing now, her voice tight. ¡°Anything in the world. But this¡­I can¡¯t¡­I¡¯d never¡­¡±

    A moment of silence passed and Terry felt his frustration mount as he realized he was missing half of the conversation.

    His mother¡¯s eyes hardened now, her lips set tight even as tears cut down her face.

    ¡°I will never kill James. Not in a million years. You might as well end me now.¡±

    What¡­?

    His mind felt tossed about, unable to anchor to reality.

    Why had she said that? Had her System given her a Quest to kill dad? If so¡­why?

    ¡°You can push notifications as much as you want, I¡¯ll never¡ª¡± She cut off, her eyes shutting tight, her jaw clenching. A spasm shook her body, her fists balled at her side.

    Terry watched with impotent rage as her System tried to shock-collar her into submission.

    Moments passed and the spasms finally relented, her breath exhaling violently as the pressure around her lungs eased.

    She drew in deep, heaving breaths, her whole body trembling.

    ¡°Fuck¡­you¡­¡±

    Another spasm took her and she cried out, collapsing to the floor. Nearly a minute passed and Terry felt the memory digging at his heart. Then, another minute passed, and it was too much to watch.

    Give in, mom. Just give in¡­

    When her System finally let go, she lay there, shaking uncontrollably, her eyes staring distantly at the ceiling.

    He watched her with bated breath, praying she would stop fighting, but knowing she wouldn¡¯t.

    More waves took her, but she continued to fight back just as hard, never giving an inch to the creature torturing her. Eventually, it became too much for him and he had to back out of the memory.

    In that inky void, he regarded the memories arrayed beneath the DO NOT CONSUME tag. Dozens of them¡­

    He finally understood why his mother had chosen to become his father¡¯s revenant; why she had schemed to end her life.

    All to avoid this kill Quest forced upon her by her System.

    She must have known that becoming a revenant would countermand her System. It made sense, now that he thought about it. Whipvine, Mesmer¡ªeven War Crimes¡ªwere all under the Emperor. They had never demonstrated any need or capacity to work on their own Quests.

    Death was her safe haven from all the pain being forced upon her.

    His mind went blank with rage toward her System. An instinctive part of him knew that they shared different Wakers. He couldn¡¯t imagine the Weaver torturing him over and over again into compliance. That being had been vast, towering, and nearly incomprehensible. But woven through the unquantifiable strength and power of its aura, had been a clear thread of respect. His System had taken the effort to shape itself into a pleasing form, calm his thoughts when it sensed his panic, and coach him through his choices to one that it knew would result in the most good. His Feed Wichita Quest only compounded the evidence that his System wasn¡¯t the same as the cruel being that had tortured his mother into what was basically suicide.

    He felt that deep within his bones.

    Calm slowly returned as he hung inside the void of her rose. He couldn¡¯t consume anymore of those memories; the sight of his mother in pain physically hurt him. Nor could he face the cheerful atmosphere of his friends outside of the rose.

    So, he simply sat inside that void, working through his thoughts.

    The suddenness of her flight and the events that followed had distracted him from what had started all this. She¡¯d stumbled upon his father and grandfather openly discussing a Quest¡ªsomething which shouldn¡¯t have been possible, with the exception of the Singularity Quest.

    Not only had they been discussing a Quest, but the Quest itself had been to purposely go to war with Topeka. To what end?

    I suppose it helps to know that the war was something forced by grandfather¡¯s System and he wasn¡¯t just a war-hungry bastard. Not much, but it helps¡­

    Which led him to another thought: just how much of the Emperor¡¯s actions were predicated upon his System and his given Quests? Starving Wichita? Killing Flore? Inviting the sanguine to prey on his city?

    It didn¡¯t absolve the man; he had made choices, the same way his mother had made hers, despite the consequences. But he also found himself wondering which actions lay with the man and which were at the behest of his System?

    The final piece that his mind considered was the name they had used. The Giver had clearly been some sort of moniker. He might have suspected it was some powerful super, but his father had said the Giver had assigned him a Quest.

    I always thought we had the same System. Even though the Weaver told me many others existed, I assumed¡­

    Assumed wrong, apparently.

    Meaning he didn¡¯t share a System with either parent or the Emperor. Would he be forced into conflict with them more than he already had?

    He remembered his current Quest and felt that he had his answer.

    His Free Topeka Quest could only put him into further conflict with the Emperor, Wichita, and¡­his father.

    For some reason, that thought didn¡¯t bother him as much as he thought it might. He supposed he had been working against his family since the moment he Awakened. And he couldn¡¯t find fault in the Quest itself; freeing a city from the control of two warring factions sounded noble to him.

    He didn¡¯t know how he would do it. Didn¡¯t know how long it would take.

    But unlike his parents, his System hadn¡¯t disappointed him yet. And for now, that was good enough for him.

 Chapter 64: The Return

    He ejected from his mother¡¯s rose, unwilling¡ªor possibly unable¡ªto witness anymore of the pain. Any more of the lies.

    He was done with secrets.

    As his senses came back into focus, notifications swarmed into view, bouncing excitedly to grab his attention.

    Reward calculated

    New Skill awarded: [Aura Snapshot]

    New Skill Affixed: Aura Snapshot (D ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Activate to take a snapshot of the target¡¯s aura. This snapshot can be used in conjunction with [Metaphysical Analysis] to catalog a power.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank increases, so will this Skill.

    New Quest Given: [Anchor a Skill]

    Successfully anchor a Skill to an object or person.

    Reward: Access to Midmark Quest

    Anchor a Skill? That sounded exactly like what Marlon did with his pottery that could teleport. On one hand, he was pleased to have some sort of direction in his next Quest. And being able to anchor Skills to objects¡ªor people¡ªsounded like it would be incredibly useful.

    On the other hand, finding a way back to Terraform¡¯s Market to learn more from Marlon sounded like a tall order¡ªthere was a reason the Market was practically legend.

    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± Dalton called from the front.

    The animated chatter of the others cut off as everyone crowded forward to look through the front windshield.

    As for him, he found himself stunned by the light shining on his face.

    At some point, the eternal night of Wichita had given way without him realizing it¡ªperhaps while he was reliving his mother¡¯s memories.

    The sunlight shocked him numb for a moment, drawing his attention away from the city. He let its heat warm his face, closing his eyes as the others clambered to the front.

    ¡°Terry¡­¡±

    The tone in Tania¡¯s voice drew him from his reverie and he snapped his eyes open.

    He wouldn¡¯t have imagined the good mood imparted by the beautiful golden sunlight could have been tempered by anything. But as Topeka came into view, he felt his stomach clench.

    Smoke billowed, flames burned, and cutting through it all, a giant, black wall stood tall, separating east and west Topeka.

    He pulled up his Quest with a thought.

    Quest Given: [Free Topeka]

    Emperor Necroton and the Council have turned Topeka into a warzone. The people suffer. Free Topeka from the influence of its neighbors.

    Reward: Variable

    His eyes latched onto that word: warzone. He had thought it hyperbole or perhaps a figure of speech by his System. But as they crested a hill looking over the city, he couldn¡¯t help but realize that his Feed Wichita Quest had been a different beast. In Wichita, he¡¯d enjoyed the privilege of being a prince, all the while waging a shadow war against the night, the sanguine, and the Emperor.

    But as he surveyed the city before them, the stark reality hit him in the face.

    All out war had come to Topeka and it fell on him and his team to bring peace.

    And if peace wasn¡¯t possible, then they would wage war on those seeking to claim Topeka as their own.

    <hr>

    Capstone Quest Complete

    New Rank awarded ¡ª S-rank

    New Class aw¡ª

    New Skill¡ª

    The woman dismissed the incoming notifications with a thought. They tried to stream into her vision once more, but she flexed her new Alterant abilities and began to rework her aura.

    Action not advised¡ª

    She traced the message back to its origin and deleted that section of her aura entirely.

    Permanent damage calculated. Action not advised¡ª

    Without a word or a flicker of hesitation, she traced that message as well. She was beginning to understand that these sections were not her aura. To her mind, they appeared more as nodules, infections.

    Cancer.

    She massaged the cancerous section of aura, cutting off another connection point. The next notification that flashed demonstrated a total shift in tone, a departure from the clinical expression her System generally used when it was trying to maintain its aloof nature.

    My champion¡­my White Rose¡­you¡¯re fighting a futile battle. If you continue along this path, only pain and¡ª

    Another nodule was scrubbed clean from her aura.

    Then, the pain started.

    Her nerve endings lit up, pure, unfiltered fire scorched her from the inside out. More pain than any human could possibly endure¡ªwillpower and tenacity disintegrated in the face of human biology. It was a level of pain that sent bodies into shock, stripped away thoughts, contracted time, until nothing remained but raw agony.

    A year ago, it would have sucked the breath from her lungs, crippled her so completely as to sap any inkling of defiance.

    But a year of torture had inoculated her against her System. Her mind refused to shut down, instead feeling emboldened by the rippling fire coursing through her limbs.

    Emboldened, because she knew it was all her System had left. Past the pain, there was nothing the Shepherd could do to her.

    And once the pain was excised, only she would remain.

    Her aura was a tidal wave, a mountain of power. She turned it inward, infecting herself the way she had infected others before.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Distorter invasion detected! Engaging countermeasu¡ª

    She cutoff the automatic response, allowing her own aura to burrow deep inside her body. It traced along those paths of fire, one by one. Then, with a subtle pinch, it cut them off.

    The agony in her left arm dimmed to a distant memory. Then, her right arm. Her legs.

    Physical sensations drained away, but that was a small price to pay to rid herself of her leash.

    When she had severed the final electrical connection to her nerves, she almost didn¡¯t trust herself to relax. Her body remained tense, prepared to fight the battle on another front. But her shock collar was off and now her System had only words.

    And it was not very convincing.

    A Shepherd does not allow the sheep to leave the herd. The herd is life. Without me, you are not long for this¡ª

    She began to follow that message back to its origin, feeling intuitively that she was almost completely purged. When she isolated the sole remaining nodule, her System began to panic.

    If you do this, I will hunt you to the ends of your planet. You will never be safe. Your husband will never be safe.

    Your son¡ª

    She excised the nodule, cutting off her System for good.

    For entire minutes, she waited, expecting another flash in her vision, another spark of pain¡­anything.

    But no matter how diligently she examined not only her aura, but her body, she found no evidence of her System¡¯s hold. The only external connection, the one thing she had chosen not to excise, was the revenant magic keeping her from death.

    It was a long while before she felt confident enough to relax her guard. But when she finally did, she looked around and took in her surroundings.

    Deja vu struck her as she recognized the clearing she was kneeling in. Memories from over a year ago came roaring back into her mind¡ªmemories she had pushed away to maintain her sanity. There had been no time for regrets in that other realm. She could only move forward, never back.

    But as her mind reacclimated to Earth, she couldn¡¯t help but think back on that fateful day.

    She had always known Uncle Sol had good intentions¡ªhe was a good man beneath the bluster and self-indulgent streak. But he had interfered in something he didn¡¯t understand and that had angered her.

    Did he think I wasn¡¯t capable of taking care of myself?

    And she had never worried for James. She had seen him and the Scourge making a show of it, but knew they would never truly hurt each other.

    It was only when Lirian had started Distorting their connection had panic truly set in. Of course, she hadn¡¯t known what she was doing, but all the same, she had nearly killed Penelope in her ignorance. Severing James¡¯ magic would have sent a kill signal through their revenant bond.

    But her Distortion did accomplish something.

    She¡¯d been dueling with Uncle Sol when the magic faltered for the briefest moment. And in that moment, her System had struck.

    Pain had stabbed into her mind, blinding her, draining her of her strength and autonomy. And then¡­a new Quest.

    New Quest Given: [Capstone]

    Accept summons?

    Her world had condensed down to a single point, her vision tunneled to that simple message. Somehow, she had stumbled away, unconsciously running from the pain and finding no respite.

    She didn¡¯t know then what she knew now.

    The Systems were parasites, leeching onto Awakened auras, sending visions, messages, and sometimes, pain, through those connections.

    There had been only one way out of the pain. She had accepted the summons.

    How long had it been? Over a year, she knew. But she had excised her System, lost convenient access to the built in calendar¡ªamong other things.

    She didn¡¯t regret that, of course, but she would miss the conveniences.

    For example, the ability to System message James would have been nice right about now.

    And Terry¡­if he had Awakened.

    Gods, she hoped not. All his life, she had prayed for him to join their ranks¡ªeven secretly hoped they would share a System and go on joint Quests sometime in the distant future.

    Now, she couldn¡¯t imagine anything worse.

    If he had been Awakened by the Shepherd¡­

    The realization chilled her and she resolved to find out the truth. If she got to him before the connection deepened, she could excise the parasite the same way she¡¯d done to herself.

    She had to get to him before he ranked up too high¡­

    Her aura senses had been mostly turned internally since her brief battle with the Shepherd, but even distracted as she was, she still sensed the flash of power nearby.

    Had the Shepherd already sent an assassin after her? A team, perhaps?

    Someone else might have considered fleeing; the resources at the disposal of a Waker were vast, enough to threaten even an S-ranker like herself.

    But she was done running from her problems. Done hiding them inside a rose.

    She was going to face them head on¡­and crush them.

    The aura flashed nearby and she stalked toward it, her own aura billowing around her, vast and indomitable.

    <hr>

    Silver managed to teleport from the moon with a desperate grasp on the Physical Singularity. His mind threatened to slip from his control, even as his body turned incorporeal. He fought the alien presence trying to strip his control from him, shifting his body back into the physical realm with a force of will.

    His body teleported ten times in a single second, traveling a thousand miles before ending up right back where it started.

    The taint on the Spectral Singularity eased by the slightest degree and a moment of clarity bobbed to the surface of his thoughts.

    With a flex of his will, he began draining the aura from his body anyway he knew how. He teleported around the Earth a dozen times and the presence weakened. He picked up a colossal glacier in a remote part of the ocean and flew it ten thousand miles before depositing it gently back into the water.

    As his aura and his body slowly weakened, so did that alien force infecting his mind.

    When his power felt nearly drained to the limit, a System notification appeared in his eyes.

    Warning! Chaos infection detected!

    He took a moment to catch his breath, then growled.

    ¡°No shit! How do I¡­fight it!¡±

    Counter distortion in progress. Maintain low power levels and standby¡­

    ¡°Goddammit¡ª¡±

    A spike of chaos tried to invade, stabbing deep into his thoughts. A distant memory slammed into him¡ªhis son held loosely in his arms as a baby; the feeling of his newborn skin on his fingers.

    Another memory replaced it, shoving away the raw joy to show his son as a teenager, collapsed against an alien landscape¡ªdead. Beasts with unnaturally long teeth gnawed at his flesh, feasting on his son with relish.

    With a shout, he ripped space apart and burned through the energy that had regathered. The false memory blurred, weakening as his power dwindled.

    He had barely caught his breath before another image began to materialize. It was Terry¡ªno, it was his son. His mind faltered, the two of them overlaid across each other in some bizarre mash up. Dancer appeared, looming over the boy, growing impossibly large until he seemed to tower like a skyscraper. He felt Dancer¡¯s aura reach out, threatening to snuff the boy out like a candle.

    He fought the vision, but his thoughts were disordered, shuffled about like a deck of cards. Suddenly, he was the boy and Dancer was reaching to snuff him out.

    A dim flicker of clarity arrived just in time and he burned through more energy by teleporting across the globe.

    He didn¡¯t know where he was anymore; his power seemed to be working on instinct by this point.

    In the corners of his vision, the recesses of his mind noted boots coming into view. A shout echoed in his ears, but he couldn¡¯t process the words.

    He felt his aura regenerating and a panic cut through the cloud obscuring his thoughts.

    I need to teleport, he frantically thought.

    He began to stir his aura once more, but as his eyes trailed up, he spotted a familiar face.

    Another false memory, he thought dismissively. He prepared to teleport away, when a hand touched his shoulder.

    The distinctive tingle of that touch was so real, it sparked an ache inside him, a longing for the person attached to that touch to also be real.

    He looked up toward Penelope, tears forming in his eyes. It wasn¡¯t as he remembered her, but all the same, he would know his daughter¡¯s face at any age.

    ¡°God, I miss you so much,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Dad! Your aura!¡± The false Penelope gripped him on either side of his face, her eyes closing in concentration.

    Distorter invasion detected! Engaging countermeasures. Standby¡­

    ¡°No,¡± he muttered. Then, the tears slipped free. ¡°No.¡±

    With a thought, he countermanded his System¡¯s efforts, leaving his aura wide open. This was the end of the road. He¡¯d been fighting so long¡ªand for what? He¡¯d earned his rest.

    He let the fake memory take him, relishing in the feel of her skin on his face as his aura was distorted. Distantly, he felt surprise as the distortion seemed to clash with the alien presence. Then, he felt the chaos pushed back, forced deep into the Spectral Singularity where it had first lay in wait.

    The fog over his mind went with it and he stared at his daughter in stunned shock.

    ¡°Penelope? Yo-you¡¯re real¡­¡±

    She smiled down at him and he felt the weight of four decades slide off his shoulders.

    ¡°Yes, dad. I¡¯m real.¡±

    His mind felt fragile after the chaos infection and he broke down into a terrible sob, clutching at her waist like he was the child and she the parent.

    She stroked his hair in silence and he slowly regained a grip on his mind, wiping at the tears in embarrassed silence.

    After a moment, she let go and pulled him to his feet. All the while, he felt her aura distorting his, keeping the chaos at bay.

    ¡°What happened?¡± she asked after a moment. ¡°Why is there a chaos seed inside of you?¡±

    He sighed, rubbing at his face. ¡°I consumed the Spectral Singularity.¡± Her eyes went wide. ¡°It was infected with chaos. I¡¯ve been fighting it off for weeks¡ªmaybe longer.¡±

    The reality of those words hung heavy between them for a moment, then Silver felt a smile pull at his lips.

    She furrowed her brow in confusion. ¡°Why are you smiling?¡±

    He reached out and grabbed her hand lightly. ¡°I¡¯m smiling, because I met your son.¡±

    She gasped, her eyes widening. Words streamed out all in one breath. ¡°Terry! Oh, my God, Terry. Did he Awaken? What¡¯s happened since I¡¯ve been gone? And when did you get back? And James? Tell me everyone¡¯s alri¡ª¡±

    Silver held up his hands to calm her. ¡°Terry and James are fine.¡± Last time I checked, he didn¡¯t say. ¡°But a lot¡¯s happened since you¡¯ve been gone.¡± He finally felt stable enough to engage his aura¡ªhowever subtly. He felt her power, the strength and depth of her aura, and a swelling of pride filled him. ¡°You finished your Capstone, then?¡±

    A guilty look crossed her face and she nodded.

    ¡°I left them, dad,¡± she whispered. ¡°I had no choice, but they don¡¯t know that.¡± She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. ¡°Terry must think I abandoned him, just like I did about¡­¡±

    He nodded in understanding. ¡°Just like I abandoned you.¡±

    The tears slipped free, dripping down her cheeks and off her chin. But her voice remained steady despite the obvious pain in her eyes.

    ¡°He must hate me¡­¡±

    Silver reached up slowly, gingerly wiping away the tears as they fell.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± he said softly. ¡°But he also loves you more than anything. It¡¯s never too late to ask for forgiveness¡­right?¡±

    She looked up, the silver magic in her eyes like looking in a mirror. A smile touched her lips as she considered the double meaning in his words.

    ¡°No,¡± she agreed. ¡°It¡¯s never too late.¡±

    He smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

    ¡°Come on. Looks like we¡¯ve got a bit of a walk back to Wichita.¡± He stepped back, looking deep into her eyes. ¡°And I¡¯ve got so much to tell you.¡±

    End of Book One

 End of Book 1 Status Sheet(s) - Not a Chapter

    First Status Sheet is the diff between Part Two and Part Three (Time skip of 8 months). Not relevant unless you want to see the progress over that time skip and compare to the end of Book One.

    Status Sheet

    Class

    Alterant (E)

    Class Skills

    Metaphysical Analysis (E)

    Genetic Analysis (E)

    Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (E)

    Affixation Slots

    F-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: High-Efficiency Matter Transportation

    Slot 2: Liquefy Metal

    E-Slot (1)

    Slot 1: Metal Telekinesis

    Unaffixed Skills

    Full-Body Tempering (F)

    Full-Body Tempering (E)

    Attribute Ranks

    Physical Average: F5 ¡ú E5

    Strength: F5 ¡ú E4

    Speed: F5 ¡ú E5

    Toughness: F6 ¡ú E6

    Perception: F5 ¡ú E5

    Presence Average: E8 ¡ú D5

    Aura Projection: E8 ¡ú D4

    Aura Control: E8 ¡ú D5

    Aura Perception: E8 ¡ú D6

    Mental Average: F2 ¡ú F7

    Chronoception: F2 ¡ú F7

    Visual Processing: F3 ¡ú F9

    Auditory Processing: F2 ¡ú F6

    Public Information

    Name: Terry

    Class: Alterant (Hidden)

    Overall Rank: E (Hidden)

    Attribute Ranks: (Hidden)

    Progression from beginning of Part Three to end of Book One is as follows:Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    1. Chapter 50: Learns Light Shift (D) from Sol.

    2. Chapter 52: Adds light transportation to his portal skill by studying with Marlon. Upgrades it from F to E. New E-Slot awarded.

    2. Chapter 55: Upgrades High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation (E) ¡ú (D) but no appropriate slots so it is capped at E.

    3. Chapter 59: D-rank achieved. Learns Master of Light (D). 2 D-slots awarded. Aura Attributes increase naturally from the rank up.

    This is the Status Sheet I would include in Chapter 59 in the final version of the book.

    <u>Status Sheet</u>

    <u>Class</u>

    Alterant (D)

    <u>Class Skills</u>

    Metaphysical Analysis (D)

    Genetic Analysis (D)

    Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (D)

    <u>Affixation Slots</u>

    F-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: Liquefy Metal

    Slot 2: Full-Body Tempering (F)

    E-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: Metal Telekinesis

    Slot 2: Full-Body Tempering (E)

    D-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation

    Slot 2: Master of Light

    Unaffixed Skills

    Light Shift (D)

    <u>Attribute Ranks</u>

    Physical Average: E5

    Strength: E4

    Speed: E5

    Toughness: E6

    Perception: E5

    Presence Average: D8

    Aura Projection: D4 ¡ú D7

    Aura Control: D5 ¡ú D8

    Aura Perception: D6 ¡ú D9

    Mental Average: F7

    Chronoception: F7

    Visual Processing: F9

    Auditory Processing: F6

    <u>Public Information</u>

    Name: Terrence Fairway II

    Class: Alterant (Hidden)

    Overall Rank: D (Hidden)

    Attribute Ranks: (Hidden)

    And finally, the changes from Chapter 59 to end of Book One are as follows:

    1. Given a third D-slot for completing the Feed Wichita Quest in Chapter 61. Assigned Free Topeka Quest.

    2. Given the Aura Snapshot (D) Skill for decoding all the White Roses in Chapter 64. Given the Anchor a Skill Quest to unlock his Midmark Quest.

    I''ll abstain from posting a third Status Sheet, there aren''t enough changes to justify it.

    I''m not a huge stat junky, so if anything looks weird, let me know.

 B2 - Chapter 1: The Chameleon

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 57:12:03 08:01 local time)

    Tinker (Damien Alcantar)

    Summary

    Damien Alcantar (chosen super moniker: Tinker), is an S-ranked Artificer best known for his S-grade Artifact armor (see (Power Armor), (Artifacts)). He is one of the first Awakened designated (the Second Wave), as he missed (the Call) by three years. In Year 3, he Awakened as an Artificer. In Year 5, he attended M.I.T. (see (Pre-Splintering Universities)) where he graduated with a simultaneous bachelor¡¯s degree in electrical engineering and a Ph.D. in biomechanical engineering with an emphasis on human-machine integration.

    After completing his (Midmark Quest), he was formally invited to join the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion), where he contributed significantly in the war against (Tempest).

    He completed his (Capstone Quest) in Year 23, becoming the second recorded S-ranked Artificer. In Year 28, he officially joined (the Council) as one of its leading S-ranked members.

    In Year 57, he has most recently served as the ranking representative of (the Council) in their ongoing dispute over Topeka (see (The Topekan Crisis)).

    He is credited with 473 patents (see citation).

    Powerset

    Best known for his iconic power armor, Tinker has demonstrated speed and strength approaching that of an S-ranked Duelist while inside his armor. But outside of physical confrontations, Tinker has developed a reputation for pioneering numerous branches of Artifact science, anti-Swarm devices, medical breakthroughs, flying vehicles, and spatial-locking science.

    + Artificer (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    + Artificer (C to S)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Tinker has been an SPC-registered member for decades. He is also a ranking-member of (The Council), which rules over Kansas City and is currently embroiled in a border dispute over Topeka.

    Personal Life

    (click to expand)

    Notable Exploits

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    Part One: War of the Elements

    Three months later...

    The Black Wall was visible from every point within Topeka. It stood like an infected sore, blighting the land, reminding her citizens that their home was no longer just their home, but also, a warzone.

    To the five supers sprinting down the alleyway, though, it signaled salvation. Freedom from their pursuers, safety from surefire imprisonment¡ªor possibly death.

    Terry led them at a sprint, his shoes slapping against puddles of foul-smelling water. Refuse lined the alleyway and the smell would have been overpowering if their lives weren¡¯t at risk.

    Behind him, long-legged Peter was second fastest. Though he specialized in earth magic, the cement lent him no aid¡ªhis focus was in plants. And though they were excellent for scouting, they did nothing to speed him along.

    He was simply fast.

    Next came Tania. Her legs were the shortest, but she had years of rigorous training under Whipvine that had lent her the endurance of a marathon runner.

    Alan was on her shoulder and his magic did aid him in their flight¡ªoccasionally. As he raced down the alley, he went out of his way to place his feet on the dirty puddles, where his sneakers sunk in like stepping in Jello, then were rebounded out, giving him an eerie-looking sort of bounce to his step. All the same, his natural athleticism was the lowest of the group.

    That is to say, the lowest of Terry¡¯s group.

    The final member of this fleeing coterie was the man they had sneaked into East Topeka to fetch. An agent of Terraform and the man that would be their ticket back to the Market where Terry had unfinished business.

    For three months, he¡¯d been trying to procure a ride back to the Market. His Quest to learn anchoring magic had stymied him every step of the way and he desperately needed a session with Marlon to unlock the secrets to the man¡¯s abilities.

    Unfortunately for Terry, Marlon refused to engage in System chat. He hadn¡¯t even accepted the request. When he¡¯d asked Terraform to go talk some sense into the Traveler, the Market¡¯s purveyor had reported back some gut-wrenching news.

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: That¡¯s a no-go, Terry. Marlon said¡ªand I quote: ¡°Tell Tammy to make the trek down here if it¡¯s so important.¡± No amount of explaining would make him budge and he eventually threatened to portal me into the Pit. I told him that was impossible, but he stopped responding to me at that point.

    </blockquote>

    Terry had been too incredulous to be mad. He eventually came to the conclusion that Marlon¡¯s secrets were Marlon¡¯s secrets, and if he wanted to pry into them, it would have to be on the man¡¯s terms.

    His¡­understanding had slowly eroded as it became increasingly clear how difficult it was to get to Terraform¡¯s Market with the Traveler tokens locked down; the ramifications of Skipper¡¯s betrayal continued to shake up the smooth operations of the Market. Instead, one had to be ferried there by a high-level Elementalist with a stone specialty. And not just any Stone Elementalist would do, since the location of the Market was also a closely-guarded secret.

    Terraform can just send me an Elementalist¡­right?

    Turned out, sending anything into an active warzone was a tall ask. Especially a warzone locked down by Artifacts, high-ranking Travelers, and three powerful factions.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Wichita¡ªled by his father¡ªcontrolled West Topeka. He was supported by Savage and the Iron Maiden¡ªwho had recently joined the front as things intensified. In addition, the Emperor was footing the bill to bring on supplementary supers to shore up the large gaps left by James, Savage, and the Iron Maiden. Supplementary forces meaning supes-for-hire¡ªmostly mercenaries and unaffiliated Awakened.

    Not exactly the most reliable of forces, but enough to partially counter the Council¡¯s superior resources.

    The Council¡¯s forces controlled East Topeka with an iron fist, using Tinker¡¯s Artifacts to lock down Traveling and detect seismic disturbances. And though none of the S-rankers were meant to take the field¡ªall agreed that led to escalation and eventually, total war¡ªthe Council still possessed a stable of supers that surpassed Wichita. It wasn¡¯t just that they had more A-rankers¡ªthough they did¡ªbut rather, the gamut of B-rankers, C-rankers, and even D-rankers, far outstripped what Wichita could bring to bear.

    Despite the numbers advantage, a conflict between supers ultimately came down to those at the tip of the pyramid, the A-rankers that took to the field, and the powersets they possessed.

    And the third faction, stepping in to¡­moderate, was the SPC¡ªthe Supers for Peaceful Cohesion.

    Otherwise known as the conglomerate founded by Dancer, who had a very particular bone to pick with Wichita and its Emperor.

    While there hadn¡¯t been any overt finger pressing on the scale between Wichita and Kansas City, the implication was enough to spread tension across both sides of the city.

    Everyone had heard about the Emperor¡¯s showdown with Dancer and those inclined to pick sides were also those inclined to pick the winning side.

    It was this third faction that had implemented the Black Wall. A miles-long stretch of Artificer and Elementalist design, created to form a zone dedicated to the war. Hollowed out, filled with artificial control points, shifting walls, and crafted to be labyrinthine, the intention had been to contain the war within the interior of the wall, away from civilians.

    The SPC had gamified the conflict between the Emperor and the Council, funneling the fight into the contained space.

    Of course, some fights always managed to spill out from the wall and while both sides had agreed to keep the war away from the city itself, the unspoken understanding was that strategic locations within Topeka were fair game.

    So long as the SPC couldn¡¯t pin any sabotage or outright attacks back on either party.

    Which meant that¡ªwhile the city proper avoided most of the fallout that generally accompanied super-enhanced war¡ªthe occasional sally from the Black Wall or circumspect sabotage was not just a fact of life¡­it was expected.

    Meaning East Topeka was always on high alert for Wichitan forces, infiltration, or raids from the wall.

    Meaning security was nearly as tight away from the wall as it was at the base.

    Meaning their rendezvous with Terraform¡¯s agent needed to happen on neutral ground, away from either side¡¯s forces.

    Meaning¡­the damn fool shouldn¡¯t have burrowed from the earth anywhere near East Topeka.

    And yet, Terry and his team now found themselves running for their lives a quarter mile from the wall in East Topeka. At least Terry knew the Wichitan forces wouldn¡¯t execute them if they were ultimately captured; he¡¯d just reveal his identity and chalk it up to an embarrassing and brief rebellion. The Council on the other hand¡­

    The coordinates had been so clear. Under the Black Wall. Under.

    But Terraform¡¯s agent hadn¡¯t ended up under the wall. No, he¡¯d inadvertently found himself pinged by Tinker¡¯s devices, three miles off course, and practically shitting himself.

    Leading to the hastiest and worst-planned rescue mission of all time. And now, they were on the run from what seemed like the entirety of the Council¡¯s forces.

    There was no need for a map¡ªthe wall served as their beacon, their obsidian salvation looming ever present in the distance. The route they took toward that salvation was winding as they kept to the back alleys and the tight press of building walls; more than one Council super roamed the sky above, scanning for them.

    They stopped at the mouth of an alley, Terry holding out his hand as he glanced left, right, and up. It was the up he was more concerned about.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there.¡± He kept his voice even, breathing steady, focusing his mind. ¡°Once we clear the buildings, it¡¯s a hundred yards of nothing but mud and open space. With the fliers up above, we¡¯ll never make it in an all out sprint.¡±

    Their Market agent¡ªKlein¡ªsucked in a gasping breath, his eyes going wide.

    ¡°I-I can¡¯t,¡± he said in a rush. ¡°It was a-a good try, but I-I can¡¯t.¡± His aura shifted to Terry¡¯s senses, diving into the earth. ¡°I¡¯m going back to the Mark¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Terry gripped the man¡¯s arm, using his aura to batter the magic aside. Klein might have been strong enough to resist Terry in normal circumstances. But with his aura frazzled and his mind clouded with terror, his hold was stripped away easily. ¡°They¡¯ll expect you to make a break for it that way. You won¡¯t make it past their net.¡± He studied the man a moment longer to make sure he wouldn¡¯t do anything foolish, then nodded toward the wall. ¡°That¡¯s our only way out of the noose. Do you understand? We have to try.¡±

    ¡°You have a plan, Ter?¡± Tania asked quietly.

    His eyes flashed golden, his lips set tight as he nodded.

    ¡°I do. Misdirection is the key. Listen carefully¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Damien Alcantar, also known as Tinker, flew a thousand feet above East Topeka. Data flashed across his HUD, lightning fast, more flicks of light than actual text. Biosensors on the exterior of his power armor filtered through the neural-network trained against his target¡¯s specific markers, then fed back into his mundane senses.

    In close ranges, his target¡¯s smell would fill his nose like the smoke from a bonfire; to his eyes, the target¡¯s silhouette, unique gait, and a million other biological factors would be as stark as a sign reading: I¡¯m here. The target¡¯s voice¡ªeven artificially modulated by an advanced super-designed mask¡ªwould ring in his ears like a clarion call.

    The only aspect of his target that had challenged his S-ranked capabilities was his aura signature. At first, Tinker had been annoyed¡ªlike a fly buzzing around his head, dodging his swats with an uncanny alacrity. But as he was forced to turn his full attention to the problem, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a spark inside his chest that had eluded him for decades.

    The spark of an academic challenge!

    All projects fell to the wayside. All efforts to study the Black Wall¡¯s architecture¡ªa feat of superhuman and engineering genius, even he had to admit. All attention devoted to identifying the idiosyncrasies of this Chameleon¡¯s aura.

    The name was apropos, considering his peculiar powerset. The first time Chameleon had shown up on their radar, he had demonstrated Traveler-based powers, portaling into a spatially-locked warehouse to pilfer food stores.

    It hadn¡¯t been one of his own Artifacts, so his academic interest hadn¡¯t been piqued. Bypassing a C-rankers spatial-locking Artifact was nothing to write home about for most high-ranking Travelers.

    Only after his neural assistant had flagged the footage, had Tinker became aware of Chameleon.

    The portal was uninteresting¡ªrote usage of not quite common magic. Even the metal telekinesis was relatively basic¡ªthough, in conjunction with portal magic, made for interesting combinations.

    It was only when Chameleon had turned invisible to mundane¡ªand infrared¡ªcameras, that Tinker had sat up and noticed.

    A rogue S-ranker, he had thought, feeling a flash of territorial annoyance. What S-ranker dared challenge me in my own city?

    Tinker didn¡¯t often find himself interested in the political machinations of his fellow Council members. Controlling Topeka was low on his priorities, if he were being honest with himself. But he tolerated the distraction because it gave him a pass from public appearances, press conferences, and those dull Council meetings where they debated over dross like board members of a local HOA.

    No, his assignment to Topeka was perfect. He was never expected to intervene personally¡ªwas in fact, disallowed from doing so by the compact between the Emperor, the Council, and the SPC. Furthermore, the Wichita-controlled forces were inferior in both numbers and composition, meaning he could delegate most of the conflict within the Black Wall to his subordinates.

    And finally, it gave him unparalleled access to the Black Wall, where he was currently running dozens of experiments on the enigmatic Artifact.

    Correction, had been running dozens of experiments.

    Now, only one challenge interested him, and he was quite certain he had cracked it.

    This thorn in the Council¡¯s side, this unregistered and unheard of S-ranker who had continued to raid East Topekan stockpiles, was, in fact, not an S-ranker at all.

    He was¡ªat most¡ªa C-ranker. Tinker had toyed with the idea that he might even be a D-ranker after sampling his aura signature with sensors he had positioned in one of Chameleon¡¯s targets.

    But no¡­that would be ridiculous.

    The question was, how did a C-ranker demonstrate control over not one, but two, elements and portal capabilities?

    At first, the answer seemed obvious.

    Occam¡¯s razor¡ªthe simplest answer is usually the best.

    Chameleon was an Elementalist who had control over one element, then completed his Midmark and achieved control over the other. His portal abilities could be tied to some powerful Artifact¡ªan S-grade Artifact, he had guessed.

    An unusual¡ªand powerful¡ªprize to be sure.

    Then, a second aura signature reading had thrown a wrench into his theory.

    He had studied it for entire days, feeling the utter shock of decades of assumptions clattering to the ground around him like a house of cards.

    His target¡¯s aura signature had changed. And not just qualitatively, as would be expected of a rank up.

    It had fundamentally changed in a way that was practically indicative of an entirely different person.

    There were only two possibilities, and neither held any weight to the man, which was why he agonized over that reading for so long.

    Either, Chameleon passed his Capstone and unlocked a new class. Or, he had always been an S-ranker and one of his classes was Visionary. Only a Visionary could demonstrate a fluctuating aura signature so casually.

    Neither answer satisfied his academic gut. As a scientist, facts, numbers, and experimentation were the holy trinity. But there was a fourth factor¡ªan X-factor¡ªthat Tinker had come to rely on when faced with a problem that stymied him.

    Intuition, gut feeling, whatever it was called. He had a natural inclination to discard such amorphous instinct. But over time, he¡¯d discovered that this instinct was right more often than wrong.

    And his instinct was pointing him toward a third option¡ªone he might have dismissed out of hand in any other instance.

    Chameleon was just that¡ªa power-swapping chameleon, a copycat.

    He¡¯d heard of similar instances, of course. There were one or two Visionaries that could copy powers, reshaping their aura to mimic others. But they were always all-or-nothing, cloning powersets¡ªusually with reduced power and rigid inflexibility.

    He had never heard of a super¡ªVisionary or otherwise¡ªassimilating powers ad-hoc the way Chameleon appeared to be doing. After weeks of observation, Tinker had identified water, light, metal, and earth control from Chameleon, in addition to portals that carried an air of sophistication and skill that an Artifact shouldn¡¯t have been able to demonstrate.

    His catalog of aura signatures for Chameleon had stalled out, finally. He now felt confident that he could find the man via not only sight, smell, and sound, but also aura.

    He¡¯d only been waiting for word to come of a Chameleon sighting to test the data.

    And now, as he sailed high above the air, his HUD lit up and a rare smile touched Tinker¡¯s face¡ªthe smile of a scientist¡¯s experiment finally bearing fruit.

    With a thought, his power armor broke into a dive, breaking the sound barrier in seconds.

    I¡¯ve got you now, Chameleon.

 B2 - Chapter 2: Cat and Mouse

    When Terry broke from the alleyway onto the open field, it was with a dozen instances of his Master of Light arrayed on either side of him. It strained his aura to turn each of them invisible, both on the visible and infrared wavelengths. More than that, he had created false trails¡ªanother five barely visible distortions in the air, each racing across the muddy field at different speeds.

    Terraform¡¯s man, Klein, used his earth affinity to mask their footsteps, all the while creating false footprints up and down the field. Alan, with his water affinity, created small splashes in every direction. They ran across the field in a staggered pattern, relying upon obfuscation and sheer numbers to fool any of the fliers up ahead. There was a chance, a slight chance, that whomever was flying above would have missed the signs. They were invisible, after all.

    But as they were halfway across the field, Terry realized that would have been too good to be true. A sharp whistling sound screamed through the air above them, followed by a sonic boom that seemed to cut into his ears. He glanced up, his heart pounding in his throat, his palms sweaty as his hands pumped at his sides. At first, all he got were impressions: sunlight glinting off metal, a shape moving through the air faster than his eyes could track, yet graceful like a hummingbird.

    And then, the impact. A suit of rippling steel crashed into the mud right in front of him, and he pulled up short. He sent a quick message to the others, telling them to continue on, while he faced off¡ªnot with some C-ranker like he had expected, not even a B-ranker like he had dreaded. No, standing before him now was perhaps the most famous Artificer in North America. Tinker¡¯s power armor was iconic, the stuff of legends, of Saturday morning cartoons, the kind of armor that was almost a living thing in itself.

    Terry had fantasized, once upon a time, of owning a set of armor like that. And now, here it stood in front of him, eight feet tall, shining silver in the sun, gleaming so brightly he had to squint. A faceless exterior regarded him, penetrating through his Master of Light skill and the earth magic he was using to hide his footsteps. They regarded each other for a moment¡ªTerry, invisible to the naked eye, Tinker, looming eight feet tall and larger than life. Then, Tinker¡¯s faceplate irised away, revealing a wry smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid your run ends here, Chameleon.¡±

    Chameleon? Terry wondered.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a merry chase,¡± Tinker continued, ¡°and I¡¯ve enjoyed studying your power set. But I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re going to have to come with me.¡±

    Terry let his guard down, revealing himself to Tinker, though he still maintained the low-grade Artifact he was using to hide his identity¡ªa simple steel mask that modulated his voice. ¡°You¡¯ve been studying me?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Oh, yes. It¡¯s not every day I see a C-ranker demonstrate control over four elements, not to mention your mastery over portals. It¡¯s quite impressive.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t suppress the gulp that pushed its way past his throat. ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± he said with a forced chuckle. ¡°Four elements and portals at the C rank? You know better than that, Tinker.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy, Chameleon. You insult my intelligence. Since you know of me, you understand that I¡¯m always thorough and never make statements without evidence to back them up.¡±

    Terry nodded, stalling for time. Most of his attention was on maintaining the Master of Light illusions over the rest of his team as they raced towards the Black Wall. Tinker seemed to notice his distraction and snorted humorously.

    ¡°Oh, please. I sensed your friends the same moment I sensed you. They are inconsequential to me. I¡¯ll let them go if you promise not to put up a fight.¡±

    Terry bit his lip, letting the magic go, drawing his aura back into himself. Preparing¡ªnot for a fight, but preparing all the same. The spatial-locking Artifact, or more likely series of artifacts, were spread across East Topeka, which is why they couldn¡¯t simply portal back into the Black Wall. But each artifact was localized, its range weakening the further out from its center he went. And now, within fifty feet of the Black Wall, it felt weaker than ever. He turned his mind inward, probing at the Artifact with his senses.

    ¡°Okay, Tinker. I don¡¯t want to fight you. But I am curious.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Tinker asked.

    Terry saw a partition in the Black Wall slide open, watched his friends and Terraform¡¯s agent slip into the safety of the wall. Alan sent him a System message: We¡¯re clear.

    Terry relaxed incrementally. Tinker had a reputation of being relatively honorable, so Terry didn¡¯t think his friends would be executed if captured. But certainly, imprisonment was on the table. And unlike him, they couldn¡¯t lean on their family name to save them. All the same, Terry knew better than most that public personas were often quite different from private ones¡ªDancer being a prime example. Still, he felt himself relaxing, more comfortable when it was just his neck on the line. He began probing at space, examining it as he crafted a response to Tinker.

    ¡°Who am I to you?¡± he asked. ¡°As far as I can tell, none of the locations I¡¯ve raided were of high strategic importance to you or the Council.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Tinker replied, that same wry smile locked into place.

    ¡°Well then, forgive me if I sound overly humble,¡± Terry continued. ¡°But, as you said, someone of my rank certainly doesn¡¯t merit the attention of the Council¡¯s S-ranker representative.¡±

    Even as Terry spoke, he continued to probe at the space, his aura refined down to a needle-thin point. As it narrowed, so did his senses. He began to recognize a web-like pattern to the nearby Artifact¡¯s magic. He knew, even at this distance, that forcing his way through, while possible, would take far too long. Instead, he tried to slide his aura into the gap, thread the needle, so to speak.

    His aura fumbled at the web as Tinker responded. ¡°You are correct, Chameleon. You are of no strategic importance to me or the Council. But I am a scientist to my very core. And, as a scientist, the thing that gets me out of bed every morning is intellectual curiosities. Let me tell you, young man, you are the most fascinating curiosity I¡¯ve run across in many years.¡±

    Terry chuckled, his voice modulating through the mask, sounding robotic. It gave his response an eerie air. ¡°I¡¯m flattered to serve as a curio for the man for whom very little sparks his curiosity.¡±

    He focused his aura tighter, narrowing it down even further. It became so thin as to be brittle, and he worried it might break from the slightest contact with the Artifact¡¯s web. All the same, he was out of options. He sent it questing forward, slowly, meticulously, probing at that infinitesimally small gap between the web. He found himself unconsciously holding his breath and diverted some of his attention to keeping his body language neutral. For an S-ranker like Tinker, especially with the artificial enhancements no doubt feeding him data through his power armor, even his heart rate must have been blaring across Tinker¡¯s senses, alerting him that Terry was more nervous than he was letting on.

    ¡°Well, I do enjoy a good challenge,¡± Tinker said, his smile dipping briefly. ¡°And though I¡¯ve enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t let you breach my Artifact¡¯s web.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Terry felt his heart drop into his stomach. Something flashed across his senses, extending out from Tinker¡¯s power armor, buttressing the spatial-locking Artifact that he had nearly cracked. Of course, the S-ranked Artificer had sensed his fumbling attempts. He cursed under his breath.

    Then his eyes caught on movement at the base of the Black Wall. For a moment, he thought it was his friends coming back in a misguided attempt to save him, and he pulled up his System chat to rebuke them. But as the movement continued, he realized the error in his thinking, recognizing the figures collecting outside the wall.

    A smile touched his face, hidden by his mask.

    ¡°You got me, Tinker,¡± he replied cheerfully. ¡°You¡¯re too smart for me. Too strong. I surrender.¡±

    Tinker pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in confusion. ¡°What are you up to?¡± He cut off, perhaps some sensor built into his suit picking up the movement belatedly. He peered over his shoulder and watched as a hundred ghouls spilled from the wall like wasps from a kicked nest. Behind them, five patches ranged¡ªmore than Terry had ever seen at one time. The undead procession moved uncannily, eating up the distance in seconds.

    Tinker¡¯s suit burst into life, armaments appearing all over as if from thin air. An honest-to-God turret now loomed over Tinker¡¯s shoulder, a laser quickly mapping across each of the undead, gauging distances. Wrist rockets appeared on either arm, and though Tinker didn¡¯t bring them to bear, Terry could imagine the devastation and the speed with which they could be brought to full effect. But the undead didn¡¯t falter, and though they approached at superhuman speeds, Terry recognized that they weren¡¯t attacking, but rather gathering, heralding their leader, who approached much more lazily behind them.

    Terry¡¯s smile widened as he recognized his father, Prince James, the Commander of the undead legions, riding on Skol¡¯s back, Hati close behind at their shoulder. The two dire wolves approached, the ghouls and patches parting to let them through, and though his father had a set determination to his lips, Terry couldn¡¯t help but notice those eyes flashing towards him, green magic dancing in that gaze.

    Prince James and his dire wolves stopped a dozen feet before Tinker, all three of them regarding the S-ranker with a predator¡¯s gaze. ¡°Damien, you old mad scientist,¡± he said gruffly, ¡°what the hell are you doing on the field? You know the rules.¡±

    ¡°Is that how you address your elders, you young pup?¡± Tinker fired back. ¡°Last I checked, East Topeka was my charge. I¡¯m simply dealing with a rat problem; it¡¯s none of your concern. Go back into the wall before I make you.¡±

    ¡°So much bluster,¡± James said with a hearty laugh. ¡°I know you like me too much to kill me, even if the SPC weren¡¯t watching us. But just in case your opinion of me has soured inadvertently, know that we have wraithglass recordings of this meeting transmitting back to the Emperor even now.¡±

    Terry used the distraction to approach the web once more, but with more finesse, less panic, running the fingers of his aura over the web rather than trying to punch through. Tinker¡¯s localized spatial-locking Artifact was obviously built into the suit, but Artifacts were complicated beasts. The more generalized their purpose, the less effective they were at any one task, and Tinker¡¯s power armor was as generalized as it got. He could never be as strong as a specialized spatial-locking Artifact, and so all Terry needed was a little bit of distance.

    Slowly, subtly, he activated Master of Light, bending his appearance just a fraction. As quietly as he could, he began to step backward, away from the undead, from his father, and from Tinker¡¯s Artifact. He timed his footsteps with the sounds of their conversation, masking his movement even to their high-ranking senses.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, Commander. I have no intention of killing you. The paperwork would be immense, and it¡¯s far beneath me¡ªa waste of my time.¡±

    They both chuckled dryly at that, as if they were sharing a drink and discussing world events rather than facing off on the battlefield.

    ¡°However, that is not to say I won¡¯t spank you around this field if you press me. A hundred of your rotters, a thousand¡ªit makes no difference. I am an S-ranker, Commander, and if you force me, I¡¯ll remind you of that fact.¡±

    Tinker angled his body, facing the undead. Red lasers sprung out, locking on the patches and the ghouls but sparing James and his dire wolves.

    ¡°Chameleon is my prize, one I¡¯ve been hunting down for weeks. Leave him.¡±

    ¡°Chameleon?¡± James asked with a snort. ¡°Is that the name we settled on for this rogue super? I thought we were going with Copycat, maybe Mimic, I don¡¯t know¡ªPain in the Ass. But Chameleon?¡± He scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°Lacks gravitas, you know?¡±

    A boom filled the sky, drawing their eyes upward. A man flew in low, hovering in the space above them.

    ¡°Tinker, what is the meaning of this?¡± he demanded. ¡°You know the rules concerning S-rankers on the field. Would you invite total destruction on this city?¡±

    ¡°Oh, come off it, Paragon,¡± Tinker replied. ¡°And will you get out of the sky? I¡¯m not going to crane my neck up to look at you.¡±

    The flying super scowled but slowly sank to the earth, turning towards Terry¡¯s father. ¡°And Prince James, I expected better of you. To openly provoke an S-ranker¡ªwhat did you hope to achieve?¡±

    Terry used the distraction and took three more steps. He felt the web weakening and searched for that sweet spot between the power armor¡¯s locking effect and the Artifact deeper in the city¡ªthat point where the overlap became thinnest.

    ¡°What did I hope to achieve?¡± James asked slowly. ¡°As you said yourself, the rules are quite clear. I spotted Tinker in the field, not a hundred feet from the wall, and the SPC nowhere to be found.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not the one courting open war here.¡±

    Another three steps¡ªslowly, inexorably inching backward. He found it, that sweet spot. He pushed that needle-thin point of aura through the gap, found the other side, exultant like a drowning man finally breaching the surface, gasping for air.

    ¡°I won¡¯t give up my prize,¡± Tinker said, his tone turning serious. ¡°Chameleon¡¯s mine, and none of you have the strength to stop me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll file a formal complaint with the Council and SPC,¡± the representative complained. ¡°Wait¡ªChameleon?¡±

    Terry felt the SPC agent¡¯s gaze turn towards him. ¡°You are the Chameleon?¡± he asked.

    Tinker turned, realizing the gap Terry had created between the two of them.

    Now or never, Terry realized. He coaxed space apart, feeling it yield finally. Tinker¡¯s eyes went wide. The portal opened instantaneously and Terry angled his body inside.

    ¡°You know,¡± Terry replied, ¡°I¡¯m not very fond of that name, but yeah, I guess I¡¯m the Chameleon.¡±

    Tinker moved, but it was too late. As he stepped through the portal, Terry gave Tinker a quick wave and a wink.

    A moment later, he was back inside the Black Wall, his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest.

    Too close, Terry¡­too close.

    <hr>

    A howl of rage erupted from Tinker, cut off at the source as his mask irised back into place, blocking the sound of his impotent fury. James very carefully kept the smile threatening to form off his face. Tinker whirled around, the rage evident in his body posture, even with his face masked.

    ¡°You,¡± he growled, pointing his finger toward James. ¡°You let him get away.¡±

    James put a hand to his chest, innocently. ¡°Me? Why is this my fault?¡± He nodded towards the SPC rep. ¡°Paragon¡¯s the one that interrupted our little t¨ºte-¨¤-t¨ºte.

    ¡°He¡¯s one of yours, isn¡¯t he?¡± Tinker continued, ignoring James¡¯s deflection toward Paragon. ¡°An unregistered super on your payroll, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    James shook his head. ¡°This rage is unlike you, Tinker. This Chameleon is putting you off your game.¡±

    Tinker remained silent for a moment, and Paragon used the gap as an opportunity to speak. But as soon as he opened his mouth, Tinker shot him an expressionless, blank look of steel that somehow perfectly transmitted the open threat. Paragon¡¯s jaw snapped shut.

    Tinker eyed the SPC representative for a moment longer before turning back towards James. ¡°Commander,¡± he drawled, his tone filled with ice, ¡°if you won¡¯t claim him, the rules of this little war do not apply. I will take him by any means necessary.¡±

    James kept his expression flat, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°Do what you want, Tinker. Just stay off the battlefield, as we¡¯ve agreed. I¡¯d hate to have to call on my father. Heavens know Topeka suffered enough without two S-rankers fighting on the open field.¡±

    ¡°The SPC will not allow open conflict¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± Tinker growled, aiming his fist towards Paragon. The man blanched at the movement, holding his hands up in a passive gesture.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just be going now to file my report,¡± he stammered. He backed away, taking to the air once more, gone with the thunderclap of a sonic boom.

    Tinker held his arm up, watching the representative¡¯s retreat, clearly lost in thought, fighting to keep his anger down. James flared his aura, spoke quietly in rapid-fire ghoulish, and eyed Tinker as his undead warriors filed back into the Black Wall.

    ¡°Always a pleasure, Tinker.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off, James.¡±

    James gave a faux salute and signaled for his dire wolves to take him back to the wall. As he turned away, he couldn¡¯t resist the grin that filled his face. A System message that he had been ignoring flashed in his vision.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Thanks, Dad. Sorry you had to get involved.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [James]: Stay safe, kiddo.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 3: Under the Black Wall

    The portal snapped shut behind him with a whoosh of air. He found himself in the familiar tunnels of the Black Wall. The interior structure of the wall was uniform in makeup, though its tunnels made a dizzying array of arteries that shifted and turned daily. Drones and nanobots modulated the placement of the tunnels on a 24-hour cycle, making it impossible to know exactly where he was in relation to their base. Fortunately, the map they had procured earlier that morning gave his team a snapshot that they could lean on to find the rendezvous point and meet up with them. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    Voices echoed down the tunnel minutes later, frantic, a tinge of terror underlying their tones.

    ¡°Did he make it out?¡± That was Klein, Terraform¡¯s agent. ¡°Did he message you? Anyone? Did he send a message?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I think so,¡± Alan said.

    ¡°You think or you know?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. His message was confusing.¡±

    ¡°Oh God,¡± Klein said, panic rising in his voice. ¡°Oh God, if he¡¯s been captured or worse¡ª¡±

    Terry turned the corner, coming into view. He held his hands up in a welcoming gesture.

    ¡°Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,¡± he shouted with dramatic flair.

    Most of the group startled at his sudden appearance, though Tania merely glowered, narrowing her eyes.

    ¡°You asshole,¡± she said.

    He chuckled lightly, walking towards them.

    ¡°How¡¯d you get out?¡± Alan asked. ¡°Seemed like Tinker had you dead to rights.¡±

    Terry waged an internal battle. How much to tell them, he wondered. It had been close¡ªfar closer than he cared to admit. But did it do them any good to shake their confidence? He decided to hedge his bets.

    ¡°Tinker had a spatial-locking Artifact in his suit, but I was able to use the arrival of my father and his soldiers to distract Tinker long enough to get some distance. Then that SPC representative, Paragon, showed up. They were all arguing about Tinker¡¯s presence on the field, and that¡¯s when I made a move.¡±

    Tania crossed her arms. ¡°That was too close, Terry.¡±

    Alan nodded in agreement, casting a dark look towards Klein.

    ¡°If this fool had just followed the damn coordinates¡ª¡±

    ¡°You try perfectly zeroing in on coordinates without any sort of map or technology,¡± Klein fired back.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Terry said, cutting across their bickering. ¡°This isn¡¯t the place for this. We did it. We slipped Tinker¡¯s net. We¡¯ve got Klein. Let¡¯s get back to base and get ready to travel to the Market.¡±

    The group reluctantly agreed, following Terry as he took the lead.

    ¡°Alan, you got that map?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, here it is, Terry.¡± He handed over the map, and Terry led the way.

    Under any other circumstances, Terry could have simply portaled back to their makeshift base, deep in the wall¡¯s foundation. But with Tinker on the hunt, he didn¡¯t dare. An S-Ranker of Tinker¡¯s caliber, with his understanding of Traveler magic, could theoretically trace their portal usage. It wouldn¡¯t be long before Terry and his team found themselves raided by Council soldiers. To be as cautious as possible, they had to walk back the old-fashioned way. This decision wasn¡¯t without its own dangers; after all, the wall served as the battlefront between East and West Topeka.

    After glancing at the map, Terry surmised they were maybe thirty minutes away from the base¡ªa couple of miles at a careful pace. They kept their chatter to a minimum, especially after Tania told Klein, not so politely, to shut his trap after another bout of complaints. In the ensuing silence, they heard the sounds echoing up the tunnel before the other group heard them.

    Terry immediately reached for his portal magic. Though it wasn¡¯t restricted within the wall, he had discovered that the ever-shifting patterns of the tunnels and the weird resonance of its material made travel a bit more difficult than out in the open. He considered ordering them back the way they came, but before he could, a voice echoed towards them.

    ¡°Hello there?¡± It was a question, not exactly unfriendly, and the moment to flee had passed.

    A group of five men and women turned the corner a moment later. Terry sent a quick series of messages to Klein, Alan, Peter¡ªand just hoped Tania would follow their lead¡ªbefore speaking out loud. ¡°Hey there.¡±

    The leader of the group stopped about fifty feet away at the other end of the tunnel. ¡°East or West?¡± he asked.

    Terry tried for a disarming smile. ¡°Neutral party,¡± he replied. ¡°Just passing through, hoping for some loot.¡±

    The other man hesitated, glancing back towards his party before replying, ¡°Same here. Any luck today?¡±

    Terry shrugged with a chagrined look. ¡°Nah, slow day today. You?¡±

    ¡°Eh, so-so,¡± the man replied. He took a step forward, his hands held casually at his side¡ªa bit too casually. His eyes flicked, going slightly unfocused for the briefest moment. If Terry had been any less on guard, he might not have noticed it at all.

    A System message, Terry realized. The man was possibly calling for backup, or worse, informing Tinker of their location. He had known the moment they¡¯d come into view that they weren¡¯t a delving party and certainly weren¡¯t neutral. Though they hid it well, underneath the facade, they carried the trappings of Council-equipped soldiers and were moving in a group of five¡ªstandard numbers for a Council raiding party. Of course, Terry¡¯s group also numbered five, but that was intentional, to make them look like East Topekans. He got the impression this man and his group hadn¡¯t realized what their numbers said about them.

    Terry sent another system message to Klein.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: When I give you the signal, close off the tunnel in front of us.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Klein]: It¡¯s a composite material. I¡¯m not even sure if I can.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Just do it, on my go.

    </blockquote>

    He sent a message to Alan, who had their tech jammer. It was a cereal box toy compared to Tinker, but it had a good shot of shutting down standard radios and minor Artifacts.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Ready?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Alan]: Ready.

    </blockquote>

    Terry let his senses range forward, slowly, relying upon his Mask Signature talent to hide his intentions. There had been a moment or two of silence, both teams beginning to fidget nervously. Terry broke that silence, even as his aura ranged over the other group. ¡°How about this?¡± he asked. ¡°We¡¯ll cede the tunnel, head back the way we came. You guys have the right of way.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The leader narrowed his eyes in confusion. Terry was already backing up, but the man burst out, ¡°We don¡¯t mind just passing by. Just keep your auras inert, and we¡¯ll do the same. Ships in the night.¡±

    Terry gave him a charming smile, even as they backed up another step. ¡°We don¡¯t mind detouring. Just give us a few minutes¡¯ head start.¡± The team backed up some more.

    The man abandoned subterfuge, his hand flicking to his belt.

    Terry knew what it was right away. And he was faster. ¡°Klein, Alan, now!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Non-lethal ordinance for the Chameleon!¡± the leader shouted as his finger reached for the Artifact on his hip. ¡°Tinker wants him alive!¡±

    Before the man could activate the spatial-locking Artifact¡ªeven before Alan could trigger his own tech jammer¡ªthe edges of the wall tunnel liquefied, forming a barrier in front of them, blocking off their line of sight. As much as Klein complained, he was good at his craft.

    His portal burst into existence a split second before the man¡¯s Artifact activated, throwing a web over his senses, trying to smother the portal that he had punched through space. If he had tried to reach deep into the wall, cutting through the miles that led back to their base, the Artifact might have succeeded in cutting off their escape. But he had created a short portal, only a couple of hundred feet away. Tania didn¡¯t need any prompting. She was the first through the portal, and the others took her lead. Terry followed up the group, and as he burst through, he could hear the frantic shouting and commands from the East Topekan team just down the hall. Judging by the way those sounds echoed, they were running toward where Terry and them had been a moment before¡ªwhich just so happened to be the opposite direction of where they were now.

    ¡°They bought it,¡± he said quietly to the others. ¡°Klein, how long will that wall hold?¡±

    ¡°I can hold it indefinitely,¡± Klein replied, ¡°if we stay nearby. Otherwise, it will start dissipating. The wall is fighting me, even now.¡±

    ¡°Okay, let it go. We¡¯ve got the map, and they don¡¯t know which way we went. Let¡¯s get a move on, quietly.¡±

    The portal Terry had created hadn¡¯t led away from the group but had actually passed through to the other side, behind the corner the East Topekans had first rounded. The wall that Klein had created would make the East Topekan team think they were fleeing back the way they had originally come.

    They were home free now.

    <hr>

    They passed through half a dozen more portals to throw off any potential trail. The last mile they walked on foot, deeper into the wall, practically into the subsoil that marked where the wall ended and the actual earth began. A quarter mile out from their base of operations, Terry spotted the first sensor and deactivated it with the code of the day. They passed a dozen more sensors on their way; he deactivated and then reactivated each in turn.

    The final deterrent was a wall designed to look like any other within the interior of the Black Wall. To anyone unaware, it would appear as if they had reached a dead end. Normally, Terry would have portaled them through the ten feet of solid stone and metal, but with Klein at their side, it only took a simple flex of his aura and a few minutes to smooth the surface back over, recreating the illusion.

    When they emerged on the other side of the portal, a long hallway stretched before them, with rooms branching off to the left and the right¡ªtheir makeshift bedrooms. At the end of the hallway, the space opened into a great room, sunken into the earth. They had had to destroy an automaton to claim their makeshift lair. At first, it had seemed strange to Terry and the others. The Black Wall was riddled with dangers at every corner: mini-dungeons, boss fights, control points, and more. The SPC had gone all out, utilizing a team of Artificers and Elementalists to gamify control of the interior of the wall.

    Their lair location was perfect, deep down in the earth, away from most of the fighting, and too far from both West and East Topeka to serve any strategic value. They were like moles, burrowed to the very edges of the warzone. They only came up for air to gather supplies or, in some cases, make contact with third party agents like Klein.

    As they walked down the hallway, flashes of light illuminated the great room in the distance, evidence of Sol and Tristan working hard to get the man into the D ranks. They had linked up with Sol early in their tenure in Topeka. Terry had been a bit surprised to receive a System message from the man, and at first, he had wondered if he could trust Sol. But after a couple of days of messaging back and forth, Terry realized that the man who could turn light into a fire that eclipsed a nuclear blast, had mostly lost the fire inside his chest. The candle that was his spirit had seemed to gutter out. Though Sol was passionate about taking back his city, in the six weeks they had been working together, he had never once left their makeshift lair.

    In private, Tania had urged Terry to utilize the S-ranker, to level the playing field, so to speak. But to Terry¡¯s eyes, Sol seemed not quite a broken man, but one teetering on the edge of oblivion. If he pushed too hard, Terry feared the man might fall into the abyss forever. So he was happy that the former leader of Topeka had an outlet, a way to make himself feel useful. As he tutored Tristan, stepping into Flore¡¯s shoes, and provided them with strategic advice on dealing with the council, it seemed he had found a purpose once more.

    As the group filtered into the great room, he noticed Sol and Tristan sitting around a table, a small candle lit in front of them. Sol was in the middle of a lecture but paused when he saw their arrival.

    ¡°Ah, our intrepid heroes,¡± he said cheerfully. ¡°And this must be Terraform¡¯s man. Klein, was it?¡±

    Klein stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. ¡°Are y-you Sol? As in Sol, le-leader of the Knights of Sol?¡± he stammered.

    Sol¡¯s face dropped, his eye twitching briefly before a forced smile found its way onto his face. ¡°The very same, my boy, the very same. Though the Knights of Sol are dead.¡±

    Terry put a hand on Klein¡¯s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze¡ªa subtle hint to steer the conversation elsewhere. ¡°We ran into a snag,¡± Terry said, trying to change the subject. ¡°Tinker himself took to the field.¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyes went wide. Tristan gasped. ¡°Tinker came himself?¡± Sol asked, incredulous.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way,¡± Tristan added. ¡°He¡¯d bring the whole SPC down on his head.¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a way,¡± Tania replied glibly. ¡°The fucker showed up in his power armor and everything.¡±

    ¡°He what?¡± Sol exclaimed. ¡°How did you escape?¡±

    ¡°Terry¡¯s father showed up with about a hundred ghouls, distracted Tinker while we fled,¡± Alan said with a smirk, then added, ¡°And Terry punched a hole through space. We met up inside the wall.¡±

    The concern on Sol¡¯s face grew as Alan spoke, a look of horror lodging there. ¡°No, no, no,¡± he stammered. ¡°That¡¯s not possible. He¡¯s put a tracker on you. He¡¯s probably on his way now!¡±

    Sol burst to his feet, looking around wildly. ¡°We have to go. Don¡¯t pack anything, just go!¡±

    Terry bit his lip, looking around the group subtly before strolling down the stairs toward the world-famous S-Ranker. ¡°Sol, it¡¯s okay,¡± he said calmly. ¡°I got away cleanly.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t know that,¡± Sol barked. ¡°Artificers have their tricks, Terry, and Tinker¡¯s the trickiest of them all.¡±

    Over Sol¡¯s shoulder, Terry saw Tristan glance toward his new mentor with a concerned look. Behind him, he heard Klein begin to panic. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s right,¡± the man stammered. ¡°It did seem like we got away a little bit too easily, didn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Tania asked incredulously. ¡°No, not at all. We barely made it by the skin of our fucking teeth. Sol, calm down.¡± She whirled on Klein. ¡°And newbie, stop aggravating him!¡±

    Sol¡¯s breathing became audible, filling the great room as if he were struggling to pull in breath¡ªthe beginnings of a panic attack. Terry had realized what this was after the first time. He had suggested Sol take to the surface with them and the man had nearly ashed the entire room¡ªand them with it. Since then, they¡¯d been much more circumspect when talking about the war or their raids up top.

    But now, it seemed Sol was on the verge of another attack. The lighting in the room flickered, then dimmed eerily. The candle sitting on the table began to melt rapidly, the flame drawing higher and higher, angling unnaturally toward Sol¡¯s body, absorbing through his skin¡ªdeep into his core.

    Looks of panic began to form among the others. Tania and Terry locked eyes, and she nodded her head toward Sol urgently.

    He approached the S-Ranker, holding his hands out in a calming gesture. ¡°Sol, it¡¯s gonna be okay. No one¡¯s coming for us.¡±

    ¡°How do you know, Terry? How do you know?¡±

    ¡°We covered our tracks, Sol. We scanned ourselves with the sniffer Artifact, took half a dozen portals¡ªeven walked the last mile. There¡¯s no way they tracked us, okay?¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyes scanned the corners of the room, flicking toward the shadows as if Tinker himself were going to walk into the light from behind the table. Tristan, picking up on Terry¡¯s cues, walked around the chair and put a hand on Sol¡¯s shoulder. The man flinched, then turned to see his new apprentice, concern in his eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Sol,¡± Tristan said quietly, as if speaking to a spooked horse. ¡°We¡¯re okay.¡±

    Sol heaved in a deep breath, then let it out. The crazed look in his eye dimmed and sense seemed to return. When he glanced over at the larger group, he saw their concern directed toward him, realizing that he had been scaring everyone else just as much as he had been scaring himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± he said softly. ¡°I¡¯m okay. Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Sol,¡± Terry said, trying to keep his voice calm. ¡°We understand your concern, but we¡¯re safe here.¡±

    Sol nodded absentmindedly, resting a hand on the table. He looked weary, his skin pallid, the bones almost peeking out from beneath his clothes. His hair was tinted white, not from old age¡ªsince S-Rankers practically didn¡¯t age¡ªbut from anxiety, stress, and terror.

    Over a year in Necroton¡¯s dungeon had done a number on him.

    It pained Terry to see a once-great man reduced to a shell of himself, jumping at every shadow, every thump, every suggestion of conflict or capture. But he had to remind himself to be patient. No one knew Topeka better than Sol, and if he could recover his nerve, he would be their greatest weapon in reclaiming the city.

    But first, they needed to get him some mental health help. Someone to talk to¡ªmaybe even a trained Hypnotist.

    And Terry knew just the place to hire someone of that caliber.

    ¡°Now that Klein¡¯s here,¡± he said to the group. ¡°It¡¯s time to return to the Market. We each have our reasons for heading back and I¡¯m not comfortable leaving anyone here by themselves. Pack what you¡¯ll need and be ready to go.

    ¡°We head for the Market in twenty minutes.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 4: Return to the Market

    When they left their makeshift lair deep underneath the wall, they were forced to squish together on the stone platform Klein had created. Despite their pleas for a wider platform, it quickly became apparent that there were limitations to Klein¡¯s powers. Though he was a C-ranker, just as Vlad had been, Terry began to realize that there were levels within a given rank. Vlad had been particularly powerful for a C-ranker, while Klein appeared to be, if not below average, then firmly middle-of-the-pack. Still, they made do with the limited space.

    Katie and Peter huddled in a corner, talking quietly amongst themselves. Alan and Tania pulled out a pack of cards to whittle away the time. Tristan and Sol occupied another corner, continuing their lesson on Light manipulation, while Klein stood at the head of the platform, propelling them through the earth towards Terraform¡¯s Market.

    Terry surveyed the group, feeling drawn toward the card game but realizing that the next few hours would be better spent practicing his abilities. An idea had been niggling at his brain, but he¡¯d been too busy to chase it down. Now, with the forced boredom and an expert Light Elementalist at hand, it seemed like the perfect time to see if the idea had merit.

    As he walked over to Tristan and Sol, he pulled out the Artifact he had taken from Wichita all those months ago, colloquially referred to as a Lamp. He hoped that utilizing this powerful, magically enhanced device could help him unlock the full capabilities of his Light manipulation.

    ¡°Hey guys, mind if I join you?¡± Terry asked.

    Tristan and Sol gladly made space for him to sit cross-legged nearby.

    ¡°Join us, my boy,¡± Sol said eagerly. ¡°We were just discussing wavelength manipulation.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sounds interesting,¡± Terry replied. ¡°I did have a question for you though, Sol.¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Terry said hesitantly. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I told you, but I was a pretty big fan growing up.¡±

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t tell me.¡±

    Terry felt his face flush. ¡°Yeah, I might have had your poster on my wall,¡± he said with a chuckle.

    ¡°Ooh, how¡¯d I look?¡± Sol asked with a wry smile.

    ¡°Like a golden god.¡±

    Tristan and Sol laughed at that.

    ¡°But the reason I bring it up is, I¡¯ve seen a lot of what you can do with your powers, and I was wondering if¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes? Don¡¯t be coy. I¡¯m an open book.¡±

    For some reason, Terry felt silly asking the question, leaning into this idle fantasy. ¡°Well, I guess I was wondering if you were able to create lasers with your powers?¡±

    A smile split Sol¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, yes, Terry. I¡¯m not just a walking nuke, you know.¡±

    A chagrined expression crossed Terry¡¯s face, and he quickly tried to backtrack. ¡°No, no, I¡¯m not saying that¡ª¡±

    Sol waved away his concern. ¡°I¡¯m just kidding. And to answer your question, yes, I can create lasers. It¡¯s a difficult process, though¡ªfinicky, requires supreme control. Although, now that I think about your use of portals, there are some interesting applications.¡±

    Terry shot Tristan an embarrassed look. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to hijack your training session. It¡¯s just¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, no, no,¡± Tristan interrupted. ¡°Lasers are freaking cool. If Sol can teach us to make lasers, I¡¯m all about it.¡±

    Terry turned back to Sol. ¡°Do you think¡­we could learn to create lasers?¡±

    Sol put a thoughtful finger to his lip. ¡°Hmm, that depends on you. I think it¡¯s possible, but not all lasers are created equal. You could easily create a laser to judge ranges or mark targets, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean you¡¯ll be cutting through metal or finding practical use in combat.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m willing to try,¡± Terry said, ¡°if you¡¯re willing to teach me.¡±

    Sol turned to Tristan with a questioning look. ¡°You sure? I feel like you¡¯re close to a breakthrough. Don¡¯t want to lose your momentum.¡±

    Tristan nodded enthusiastically. ¡°My brain was fried anyway. I could use a mental break. Plus, I want to see this.¡±

    Sol chuckled lightly. ¡°Okay.¡± His eyes trailed down to the Lamp artifact on Terry¡¯s hip. ¡°And I see you came prepared.¡±

    Terry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a second wave of red touch his face. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll work or be helpful in any way, but I figured we needed some sort of energy source since I¡¯m not an Infuser.¡±

    Sol held out his hand. ¡°Can I take a look?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure.¡± Terry detached the Lamp and handed it over. Sol studied the Artifact for a minute, then flicked the switch, turning it on. Blinding bright light shot out in a wave, and cries of pain and surprise echoed from the others, unprepared for the sudden brilliance.

    ¡°Turn it off!¡± Tania yelled.

    ¡°My eyes!¡± Alan cried dramatically. ¡°Oh, my eyes!¡±

    Rather than turn the Lamp off, Sol simply flexed his aura. The light shifted, turning into a thin strand that pooled into his palm like a ball of liquid magma. To Terry¡¯s eye, it almost seemed as if the Lamp was off, the way all the brilliance had gathered into Sol¡¯s hand. But as he reached out with his senses, he realized that Sol was continuously drawing energy from the Artifact, increasing the intensity of the ball of light cupped idly before them.

    Terry watched in fascination, using his aura to try and map exactly what Sol was doing. After a few moments, Sol flicked the Lamp off, but the ball of light remained cupped in his hand.

    ¡°Open your senses, boys. Follow along.¡± With the light in his right hand, he reached out with his left. Terry opened his aura senses as wide as he could.

    ¡°There are a few specific requirements to take simple, diffuse light and turn it into a directed beam capable of cutting through metal or flesh.¡± They watched as Sol¡¯s aura kneaded the light, shaping it like dough, drawing the ball out into a thin strand in the center. As he created that thin strand, the excess material formed at the ends, creating an almost dumbbell shape with the light.

    ¡°The first thing you need to understand about lasers,¡± Sol continued, ¡°is the concept of directionality, otherwise known as collimation. The waves of light need to be parallel to each other, moving in the direction you want your laser to point. Do you see what I¡¯m doing with my aura here?¡±

    Terry leaned in close, letting his senses range over the thin strand of light. He felt Sol¡¯s aura creating a structure, almost like a thin tunnel corralling the light, funneling it in a straight line. He said as much, and Sol nodded in agreement.

    ¡°The next thing you need to take into account is wavelength. All the photons in a laser must be of the same wavelength, otherwise known as monochromaticity.¡± Sol grinned at the long word. ¡°Basically, it just means the light needs to be the same color.¡±

    A second stream of aura traced along his finger, shifting the light¡¯s color from yellow to green to blue to red, then invisible, then back to cycling through the gamut of the rainbow before settling on a bright red color inside the thin tunnel.

    ¡°The third piece is coherence. The phase of the waves needs to be in sync.¡± He suddenly pointed towards Tristan. ¡°Can you expound upon that, Tristan?¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Tristan flinched at being called out, his eyes flashing wide for a moment before he looked off in thought. ¡°Well,¡± he started to say, ¡°even if the wavelengths are the same size and shape, if they¡¯re not in alignment, they actually have a¡­destructive influence on each other, canceling each other out in a way, lowering the intensity.¡±

    Sol nodded. ¡°Good, good.¡± Then he waved his hand for Tristan to continue.

    ¡°But if the wavelengths are in phase, as in they match up with each other, they actually have an amplification effect, increasing the intensity.¡±

    Sol snapped his fingers and pointed at Tristan once more. ¡°Exactly. How do we get our light to align into an amplification phase?¡± He pointed at Terry now. ¡°Terry, any thoughts?¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± Terry felt his pulse elevate, a spike of anxiety at being asked a question well outside his wheelhouse. ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t know much about light phases or coherence.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, that¡¯s fine,¡± Sol said quickly. ¡°Just throw out an idea. There¡¯s no wrong responses. We¡¯re just brainstorming here.¡±

    Terry thought back to what little he knew about lasers. Of course, he had done some research when the idea had begun to form, but he hadn¡¯t exactly had ready access to the internet. And pestering Whipvine or his father to do research for him over System chat wasn¡¯t something that sat right with him.

    ¡°Well,¡± he started. ¡°I know that mirrors are used in lasers sometimes. And there¡¯s something in between the mirrors¡­¡± He tried to remember the name. ¡°Something about a gain?¡±

    Sol nodded enthusiastically. Whatever Terry¡¯s opinion of Sol the hero had been, he had to admit that Sol the teacher was an eager and interested educator¡ªthe type of teacher that could make a boring subject seem exciting and novel with his own energy.

    ¡°Good, Terry. Lasers do use mirrors and what¡¯s called a gain medium. Tristan, I know you know this, but let¡¯s get Terry up to speed. A gain medium is a particular substance, could be gas, liquid, type of rare earth element, and so on. When photons are introduced into the gain medium, there¡¯s a reaction that forms additional photons of the same wavelength and phase¡ªclones of the originator photon. Now, these photons are in phase and they reflect off of a mirror, sending them back through the gain medium. More photons in phase are created, bouncing off a second mirror, and so on. As these photons are formed in phase, the intensity of the light increases. And eventually, these in-phase photons will exit and form what we call a laser.¡±

    Sol looked at Tristan. ¡°Now the question is, can we bring photons in phase with one another? Tristan, what do you think?¡±

    Tristan pursed his lips in thought. ¡°There¡¯s a couple of ways I could think of,¡± he started.

    ¡°Please,¡± Sol said. ¡°The floor is yours.¡±

    Tristan glanced at Terry nervously. ¡°Well, my first thought was a filter, like a lens, where only photons in phase can pass through.¡±

    ¡°Mm-hmm,¡± Sol said. ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re on the right track. Keep going.¡±

    ¡°So if we had a way of filtering out the light so that only the in-phase photons can propagate, then we should be able to create a coherent beam, although I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll be a laser per se.¡±

    ¡°Okay, yeah.¡± Sol turned to Terry. The way he said it, Terry wasn¡¯t sure if Tristan had said something stupid or genius. ¡°Any other thoughts, Terry?¡±

    ¡°We can shift the wavelength, right? So, who¡¯s to say we can¡¯t shift the timing of the wavelength as well?¡±

    Sol smiled, and Terry felt emboldened, like he might be on the right track. He looked at the thin stream of light, still cupped between Sol¡¯s palms. It was strange, now that he really examined it. To the naked eye, the light didn¡¯t course back and forth through the tunnel Sol had created with his aura, but at the same time, he knew the light wasn¡¯t static. By its very underlying foundation, it had to be constantly in motion.

    He reached out with his aura, and tried to sense the physical light being contained within Sol¡¯s aura. He tried to feel the movement of the photons, to gauge their speed and trajectory. But as soon as his aura touched the light, there seemed to be conflicting sensations. He felt the energy transmitted by the light but couldn¡¯t sense any motion, even though he knew the light must be moving¡ªit was reflecting to his eyes, after all.

    On a whim, he began to form a small portal, no bigger than the fingernail on his pinky. He noticed Sol narrowing his eyes, but the man didn¡¯t interrupt. The small, thumbnail-sized exit portal pointed ahead of them at head level, aiming down the direction of the tunnel that Klein was actively creating as he ferried them further towards the Market. Then Terry began to form the entrance portal, equally as small, right in the center of that thin strand of light connecting the two balls that made up either side of the dumbbell.

    As soon as the portal formed, that sharp line of brilliant light shot through the exit portal but quickly diffused as it left Sol¡¯s control. The entire tunnel was cast in a wave of brilliant light, and the others grumbled once more as they were temporarily blinded. But Terry didn¡¯t let the portal go. Instead, he released the exit portal and formed a new one back in between that thin strand of light, such that the entrance and exit of his two thumbnail-sized portals were facing each other.

    Sol leaned in with interest while Tristan narrowed his eyes. The strand of light Terry had intercepted became trapped in the loop, entering his portal, exiting in the same line, entering again, and so on. Sol¡¯s aura maintained that thin tunnel, corralling the light into that directional beam.

    ¡°Interesting idea,¡± Sol said quietly. ¡°We have the directionality and we have the monochromaticity, but we¡¯re still missing that coherence piece.¡±

    With the light all in the same wavelength and direction, the only step left was to figure out how to alter the photons to be within the same phase.

    When Terry activated his Master of Light skill, there was an element of autopilot to it, as with all System skills. Part of it was conscious control of his aura, but a significant piece was the System guiding his hand, almost listening to his intentions. He knew from past experience that System Skills were guidelines that could be altered. In fact, altering those guidelines was how he had discovered his Master of Light Skill in the first place.

    However, he also knew that progress essentially came down to trial and error. So, with Sol¡¯s guidance and Tristan¡¯s assistance, he settled in for a multi-hour session to find the limits of his Master of Light ability. Terry lost track of the hours, absorbed in the task, and was surprised when Klein finally called out that they were approaching the Market.

    Though he felt like he had made little progress, Sol ended the session with an enthusiastic clap and a genuine smile.

    ¡°Excellent work, boys. Excellent. We¡¯ve made serious ground here.¡±

    ¡°We did?¡± Tristan asked, glancing questioningly at Terry.

    Terry could only shrug back.

    ¡°Of course, Tristan. Did you think you¡¯d unlock lasers in a couple of hours? At E-Rank?¡± Sol¡¯s tone was teasing, and Tristan flushed in embarrassment. ¡°Even at D-Rank, that¡¯s a tall order. But we¡¯re laying the foundation. Rome wasn¡¯t built in a day, after all.¡±

    Terry had to admit to himself that he had kind of expected to unlock lasers in a couple of hours. Something about being tutored by the greatest Light Elementalist of all time filled him with perhaps unjustified confidence. Despite the lack of immediate tangible results, they ended the session in good spirits.

    Terry stood, stretching his aching back, realizing that his legs had gone numb at some point. As the painful prickles stabbed up and down his body, Terraform¡¯s glass golem materialized on their platform.

    ¡°Ah, some old faces and some new,¡± the golem said. ¡°Be welcome in my Market.¡± Then the golem turned towards Sol, who inexplicably had begun to slink behind Terry. ¡°Don¡¯t be coy, Sol,¡± the golem added with a tinkling laugh. ¡°I¡¯m pleased to see you out of Necroton¡¯s dungeon.¡±

    Sol slowly stepped around Terry, his eyes cast to the platform floor. ¡°Ah, thanks,¡± he stuttered. All his earlier confidence and exuberance seemed to have evaporated with the arrival of Terraform¡¯s golem.

    If Terraform noticed Sol¡¯s reticence, he didn¡¯t comment on it. Instead, he turned towards Terry. ¡°And you, Terry, well into the D-ranks, it seems. Congratulations. I¡¯ve heard from my sources that you¡¯ve been quite a thorn in the Council¡¯s side as of late.¡±

    Terry shifted his weight uncomfortably, wondering if perhaps Terraform disapproved. As if in answer to his unspoken question, the golem let out a tinkling, glassy laugh. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be embarrassed. I laud you for your rebellious nature. I never much liked most of the Council, though Tinker has sourced me with the occasional S-ranked artifact. On that note, I¡¯ve heard reports that you were able to escape from the man himself. You¡¯ll have to regale me with that tale after you¡¯ve concluded your business with Marlon.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, Terraform.¡±

    ¡°Well, like I said, you¡¯re all welcome in my Market. You should hit the Pit in¡­about thirty seconds. To my Market natives,¡± he turned to look at Katie, Peter, Tristan, and Alan. ¡°Welcome back. And to the new face, I¡¯m sure your friends will be happy to give you a brief orientation of the Market. I¡¯d do it myself, but I¡¯m afraid I need to speak to Sol and Terry privately.¡±

    Tania nodded, crossing her arms. The golem turned towards Klein and put a glass hand on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll take it from here, Klein. Thank you for your service.¡±

    Terry sensed Klein¡¯s aura relax, retracting into his body. The man¡¯s shoulders slumped with weariness, highlighting the contrast between what Vlad had been capable of and Klein¡¯s capacity.

    It wasn¡¯t long before the tunnel opened up into the Pit, the light from the lava below casting the large cavern in a yellow-orange haze.

    The platform split in two, seeming to corral Sol and Terry away from the others. Their platform arched toward the series of bridges cutting across the Pit, while Terry and Sol¡¯s platform turned toward Terraform¡¯s office. A strand of glass reached out from his floor-to-ceiling window, connecting to their platform. Behind the glass, Terry spotted the man himself lounging on his liquid stone chair.

    Terry waved, smiling at the older man, only to spot the frown on his face and a weariness to his posture.

    There was a weight to the man¡¯s expression that was unmissable.

    As they neared, the window parted like liquid, ferrying them into the office. Terraform stood from his chair, extending a hand toward Terry, then Sol.

    ¡°Good to see you again, Terry. And Sol, pleasure to meet you.¡±

    Sol shook his hand timidly, unable to meet the man¡¯s gaze. Terraform frowned at that, but quickly masked his expression, turning toward Terry.

    ¡°Thank you for meeting with me. I know you have pressing matters of your own.¡±

    Now, it was Terry¡¯s turn to frown.

    ¡°Of course, Terraform. We¡¯re guests in your home after all.¡±

    The S-ranker nodded absentmindedly, looking past them to survey the Pit.

    ¡°Funny you should mention that¡­¡± He walked around them, moving right to the edge of his office window. ¡°I¡¯m not sure for how much longer the Market will be my home.¡± He turned back, his face drawn tight.

    ¡°The Market¡¯s under attack¡­and I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s a fight I can win.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 5: Troubled Mind and Troubled Times

    Somewhere in East Topeka, a hundred feet underground, sat Tinker in his makeshift lair. When he had first been assigned to East Topeka over a year ago, he knew he had drawn the short stick. At his core, he was a scientist¡ªnot a fighter, a general, or even a leader. The thought of subjugating these people and vying for control of the city against the Emperor¡¯s forces turned his stomach. But he understood that this was the price he had to pay for his continued membership in the Council and all the resources they supplied for his many experiments.

    He also rationalized his involvement by telling himself that it was better for him to take on this responsibility than one of the more bloodthirsty members of the Council. With him at the helm, he might be in a position to minimize the loss of human life. All the same, his tenure in East Topeka had been rather dull. The SPC had rightfully instituted a ban on S-Rankers participating in the conflict. Since Tinker was a poor general, his role in the war had been mostly political. As a result, to fight the boredom and monotony, his makeshift lair had slowly evolved into a high-tech facility that nearly rivaled his lab in Kansas City.

    The command center featured wall-to-wall screens relaying dozens of drone feeds, requisition requests, and his own personal monitors for his new little obsession. As he lounged outside of his power armor, he watched as a section of those monitors followed the team that was currently in pursuit of the Chameleon. At their head was the A-ranker known as Bloodhound.

    Bloodhound had recently arrived in Topeka, personally requisitioned by Tinker himself. Initially, there had been no need for his particular set of skills in the war, and the Council had assigned him elsewhere. But earlier that morning, Tinker¡¯s prey had slipped the net, and publicly, too. Not only had Paragon witnessed his embarrassment, but so had the enemy. The loss of face was unacceptable. He needed to capture the Chameleon, and soon. So he had brought Bloodhound to Topeka, and damn what the Council thought. If they had any dissenting opinion, they were welcome to come and say it to his face.

    With Bloodhound on the hunt, it was only a matter of time until the Chameleon was cornered and captured. This was Bloodhound¡¯s specialty, after all. The man had awakened as a Seer, which gave him certain insights¡ªglimpses past the fabric of the physical world. But more importantly, at least in Tinker¡¯s mind, was that the man had transitioned to Duelist after his Midmark Quest and had focused all of his body tempering on his physical senses. His sense of smell was so acute that it even surpassed the level of devices that Tinker could fabricate. Bloodhound could pick apart the layers of smells, identifying targets from potentially miles away. The man could even describe their diets, recounting what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, ranging back for days.

    Right now, Tinker watched as Bloodhound narrowed in on his target. The man¡¯s voice came over the radio, carrying a New York lilt that was exotic in a place like Topeka. Tinker idly wondered what had brought the man from the East Coast to the Midwest. But a man¡¯s secrets were his own, and though Tinker had a scientific curiosity that ran bone-deep, it didn¡¯t extend to personal secrets¡ªenemy combatants notwithstanding.

    ¡°Boss, the scent¡¯s getting stronger. I think we¡¯re close.¡±

    ¡°Good work, Bloodhound,¡± Tinker replied. ¡°Fireteam, non-lethal ammunition. These may be foreign agents, but I want them alive.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative.¡±

    Tinker turned his attention to the drone camera flying over Bloodhound¡¯s shoulder. They were in a narrow hallway that extended fifty feet ahead before turning down a blind corner. They moved slowly, and Tinker had to tamp down the impatience trying to work a fidget into his leg. With a thought, one of his drones ranged ahead, peeking around the corner to give reconnaissance. His eyes narrowed in confusion at what he saw. His fireteam was tapped into the feed and saw the same thing.

    ¡°Dead end ahead, Bloodhound,¡± the fireteam leader said. ¡°Your nose finally fail you?¡±

    Bloodhound flashed the man the finger, the drone camera catching the movement. ¡°Fuck off, Seth. They were here. I did my job, now go do yours.¡±

    The fireteam leader gave his men a signal, and they ranged forward, taking the corner, their stunners at the ready. As they neared the dead end, one of the men spoke up. Their Stone Elementalist, Tinker realized, as the man¡¯s bio automatically populated on the screen.

    ¡°This wall¡¯s different from the rest,¡± the Elementalist said. ¡°Evidence that it¡¯s been shifted into place.¡±

    Tinker sent a command to the drone, switching it to x-ray vision. At first, it seemed like the wall was solid, but as he amplified the intensity, he realized that there was a hollow space past ten feet of solid stone.

    ¡°Confirmed,¡± Tinker said after a moment. ¡°Break it down.¡±

    The fireteam leader gave the affirmative, and the Stone Elementalist began to work on the wall. He was a D-ranker, so it took a minute for him to dissipate the ten feet of solid stone. When it finally fell, a broad hallway opened up past it. Tinker sent a swarm of five drones through, prepared to scan the interior with their lidar. When the report came back a minute later, he slammed his fist down on his desk.

    ¡°No signs of life,¡± he muttered. Into the radio, he said, ¡°It¡¯s clear. Bloodhound, go.¡±

    After thirty minutes of meticulous searching, the Elementalist finally found signs of a tunnel extending deeper into the earth.

    ¡°Seems they burrowed out, sir,¡± Bloodhound said.

    ¡°Should we set an ambush for their return?¡± the fireteam leader asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Tinker replied, already on his feet and heading towards his power armor. With a thought, the suit began walking towards him. He never missed a step as it wrapped around him seamlessly. ¡°I¡¯m on my way.¡±

    The fireteam leader cleared his throat. ¡°Sir, is that wise?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on my way. We¡¯re not losing them. Be ready to follow their trail once I arrive.¡±

    The Elementalist spoke up on the radio. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m strong enough to follow their passage, sir.¡±

    Tinker switched off the connection and sighed in annoyance. There was one more option¡ªan option he had been desperately avoiding. But the Chameleon was so close he could practically sense the man. Switching the connection back on, he said, ¡°Stand by. I¡¯m going to fetch Lady. With her abilities, you¡¯ll be strong enough.¡±

    They didn¡¯t realize it, but he could see their physical reactions through the drone feeds. The team cast silent looks at each other, the fireteam leader raising his eyebrows at Bloodhound, who simply shrugged in response.

    ¡°Any of you who had dinner plans tonight, call the missus and cancel them,¡± Bloodhound said. ¡°We¡¯re going on the hunt.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Under attack?¡± Terry gasped, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    At his side, it was impossible to miss Sol¡¯s flinch. The man¡¯s head whipped around, as if searching for hidden enemies in the office. Terraform glanced at Sol, his eyes narrowing briefly before answering Terry¡¯s question.

    ¡°Do you remember our good friend, Skipper?¡±

    Terry felt his stomach flip as the memories rushed back. The feeling of the Hypnotist co-opting his brain, the sound of her skull squelching out of the side of the stone helmet, the blood pooling across the floor, almost as if it were reaching for his shoes. He pushed the horror of that memory away, focusing back on the man¡¯s words.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Skipper¡¯s attacking the market? How? I know he¡¯s an S-ranker, but Travelers aren¡¯t exactly known for their combat abilities.¡±

    Terraform sighed, and Terry could hear the weight of the man¡¯s responsibilities in that sigh. He turned, sinking into his stone chair, his knuckles kneading the side of his temple.

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised just how much mischief a Traveler could cause, and he has been keeping busy. But no, Skipper¡¯s not my only enemy. There are a few powerful individuals who have had their eye on me and the Market for some years now.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind was racing at a hundred miles a minute as he digested the subtext in that statement, but at his side, he realized Sol¡¯s breathing had elevated, turning into heaving gasps.

    ¡°Sol.¡± Terry reached a hand out for the man¡¯s shoulder.

    Sol flinched away, his eyes going wild. ¡°We should go, Terry. We should flee while we have the chance.¡±

    The S-ranker backed away frantically, angling towards the wall-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the pit, the very windows that Terraform had withdrawn just a minute prior.

    ¡°Sol,¡± Terry gasped, reaching out a hand. But before the panicked man could fall head over heels out the window, glass reached up from the floor, cupping his back lightly to keep him from tumbling off the edge.

    Sol whirled in a panic, his skin flashing. That was Terry¡¯s only warning before a light, brighter even than the sun, shot out from Sol¡¯s body. Terry cried out in pain as the light and heat hit his face. On instinct, he activated his Master of Light ability in a desperate attempt to funnel the blinding light and the burning heat away from him. But it was too much, his aura feeling drowned by the sheer power of Sol¡¯s panicked reaction. He stumbled away, one arm thrown over his face before the heat and light suddenly dissipated.

    Blearily, he blinked his eyes, keeping them narrowed in case another burst of light shot out towards him. Through his eyelashes, he saw light in his peripherals, still pulsing out, though it was bearable. In front of him, a wall of pure stone seemed to have grown from the earth, eclipsing the bulk of Sol¡¯s light. At his side, he realized Terraform was flexing his aura, fighting the light and heat. The two of them locked eyes, and Terry could see the unasked question in Terraform¡¯s gaze.

    Terry shrugged, afraid to say anything, knowing that Sol¡¯s superhuman hearing would pick it up. Instead, he typed out a System message:

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: He¡¯s fragile right now. He spent over a year in my grandfather¡¯s dungeons in the dark, powerless.

    </blockquote>

    As he typed out the message, the light dimmed, then faded entirely. Terraform nodded in answer as Sol¡¯s timid voice called out softly.

    ¡°T-Terry,¡± he stuttered. ¡°Terry, I¡¯m so sorry. Are you okay?¡±

    The stone wall slowly sank back into the earth, revealing a frazzled, nearly weeping Sol behind it. When his eyes locked on Terry, he let out a heavy sigh. Despite Terry¡¯s own message to Terraform, he warred within himself. A part of him understood that Sol had some form of PTSD, perhaps the trauma of his isolation and imprisonment turning him more into a creature of instinct. The other part of him, the emotional part, was fuming mad. Sol had nearly blinded him, or worse. He had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling at the fragile S-ranker.

    Sol took a step forward, his hand rising timidly, then faltering. ¡°Are¡­are you okay?¡±

    Terry sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a second, trying to calm his racing heart. As he exhaled, he closed his eyes, unable to look at the pathetic expression on Sol¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m okay, Sol,¡± he said wearily. ¡°But that was close. You could have blinded me.¡±

    He heard the hitch in Sol¡¯s voice, the sound of the tears he was fighting back. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I¡¯m no good for anything anymore. The mere mention of a fight and I lose all control.¡±

    Terry opened his eyes to see Sol¡¯s back, the man standing at the edge of the window looking out over the Pit. A dozen thoughts raced through his mind. Was Sol thinking of jumping? Could the lava even kill the man? Could I stop him if he did jump? Could Terraform? He glanced toward Terraform and saw the concern and empathy in the man¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Sol.¡± Terraform¡¯s voice was low, as if he were speaking to a spooked animal. ¡°Come away from the edge, please.¡±

    Sol was muttering under his breath. ¡°I¡¯m no good for anything. I¡¯m a danger to myself and others. I can¡¯t fight, I can¡¯t lead.¡± He glanced back towards Terry, tears sliding down his cheeks. ¡°I can¡¯t even be trusted around friends.¡±

    His body rocked at the edge of the window, as if some wind were shifting him back and forth. Terry sent another System message:

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: If he jumps, can you stop him?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: I can. The question is, should I?

    </blockquote>

    Terry whipped his head towards the man, narrowing his eyes in reproach. Terraform held up his hand in a placating gesture.

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: How would he react if I prevented his suicide? Would he fight back? Would he tear apart the market? Perhaps I save him only to have to put him down to save others.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So you¡¯re just gonna watch him die?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: I hope it doesn¡¯t come to that. If he¡¯ll allow it, there are specialists in the market that can help him. Try and steer him towards that help.

    </blockquote>

    Terry felt the burden of that responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders. Though he had seen and done much in the past two years, he was still just a boy, and his experience was a drop in the ocean compared to Terraform or Sol. Yet, Sol had become his friend, so he approached the man with a determined set to his lips. Slowly, he extended his hand, resting it on Sol¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Sol, let us get you help.¡±

    His gaze flitted toward Terry, then back toward the Pit. His voice was a gravelly whisper, laden with defeat. ¡°What¡¯s the point, Terry? I¡¯ll never be what I once was.¡±

    Terry¡¯s grip tightened. ¡°And what about Topeka, Sol? Your city? Will you let the vultures pick it clean without you? Let it serve as a trophy in the war between my grandfather and the Council.¡±

    The briefest flash of fire lit in Sol¡¯s eyes. Quietly, he asked, ¡°What can I do?¡±

    Terraform stepped forward, his deep voice resonating in the office so that Terry felt it in his chest. ¡°Try. That¡¯s all we ask.¡±

    Sol gave a slight, barely noticeable nod. ¡°All right,¡± he whispered, as if surrendering to that idea, to the hope they were offering.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send for my best therapist,¡± Terraform offered.

    They stood there in solemn silence, and in less than a minute, a man appeared above the Pit, floating along a thick strand of crystalline glass. As he neared, Terraform approached Sol¡¯s side and Terry stepped back to give them space.

    Softly, almost so softly that Terry couldn¡¯t hear the words, Terraform spoke in Sol¡¯s ear. ¡°All moments are transitory. You are not this moment. Let Hunter help you, and I promise there will be a light at the end of the tunnel.¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyes met Terraform¡¯s with a searching glance. ¡°How can you make that promise?¡± he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Terraform shrugged, his smile bittersweet. ¡°Because I¡¯ve been there, and I came out the other end¡­eventually.¡±

    That fire flashed once more in Sol¡¯s eyes, just as the man named Hunter arrived. He stepped from the glass bridge, bowing low to Terraform.

    ¡°Terraform, sir?¡±

    Terraform turned to Sol. ¡°This is Sol. Please take care of him like he was one of our own.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Hunter replied with a grave nod. To Sol, he said, ¡°Please follow me, sir. My name is Hunter, and I¡¯m an A-ranked Hypnotist and trained psychologist, specializing in treating Awakened for 22 years.¡±

    Terraform gently guided Sol toward the back of the office as he spoke. ¡°You¡¯re in good hands, Sol.¡±

    A tunnel materialized in the wall, the stone seeming to melt away. Terraform handed Sol off to Hunter, who led him toward the tunnel. As they entered it, Sol cast a longing look back toward Terry, who forced a reassuring smile on his face and nodded. A moment later, the two figures vanished into the tunnel and it closed behind them, leaving Terry alone with the S-ranked Stone Elementalist.

    Silence filled the air for a moment, thick with unspoken words.

    Then, Terry broke that silence.

    ¡°I appreciate what you¡¯re doing for him, but as his friend, I don¡¯t want him used in whatever conflict faces the Market.¡±

    Terraform shook his head. ¡°No, I would never manipulate someone like that. I had hoped to enlist him in the Market¡¯s defense, but that ship has sailed,¡± he admitted, the weight of regret in his voice.

    Terry sensed there was more unsaid, and he prodded, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.

    ¡°And¡­?¡±

    Terraform took a deep breath.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just Sol I was looking to enlist.¡±

    Terry settled back on his heels, finally connecting the dots.

    ¡°I¡¯ve tried contacting Silver,¡± Terraform continued, ¡°but he hasn¡¯t responded. Do you know if I¡¯ve offended him in some way?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Terry said slowly, shaking his head. He paced toward the open window, gazing out over the bustling Market. Hundreds of people streamed to and fro across the glass bridges that crossed over the Pit. From this vantage point, he would have never guessed that the Market was on the brink of war. ¡°Silver¡¯s been out of contact for months. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s alive or dead.¡±

    Terraform cursed under his breath. ¡°With him on the Market¡¯s side, Qui Shen would¡¯ve been forced to back down.¡±

    Terry whirled around in shock. ¡°Qui Shen?¡±

    Terraform nodded sadly, confirming Terry¡¯s worst fears. ¡°Yes, it seems Skipper and Qui Shen have cut a deal.¡±

    ¡°To what end? The market isn¡¯t anywhere near Asia. I know that much just from the travel time and direction.¡± Terry¡¯s mind raced with possibilities.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. It¡¯s not the location he wants. He doesn¡¯t even care about the Market as far as I can tell.¡± Terraform reached a hand into his shirt, clearly gripping some hidden item.

    No, Terry realized, not into his shirt, but into his chest.

    ¡°It¡¯s this he¡¯s after.¡±

    Terry gasped as the room filled with an intoxicating power that roiled off the item now clutched in his hands.

    He didn¡¯t know how he knew, but somehow he did¡­

    Terraform had a Singularity.

 B2 - Chapter 6: No Limits

    Terraform paced the dimly lit office, the ambient glow from the Singularity casting erratic shadows on the stone walls. He paused as Terry¡¯s voice cut through the silence.

    ¡°Which one is it?¡± His tone carried a mix of curiosity and trepidation, the weight of the Singularity seeming to press down on his shoulders. He knew Silver had the Material and Physical, while Qui Shen had the Elemental, and Dancer had the Presence and Mental¡ªaccording to his grandfather¡¯s. But the Metaphysical and the Spectral were unaccounted for.

    Terraform sighed deeply, his eyes flickering with an ethereal light as he glanced towards the small orb cradled in his hands. The power contained within the Singularity was palpable. Waves of energy roiled off the orb, sending intoxicating, tempting, and¡­terrifying pulses through the room. It was as if the very atmosphere vibrated with its presence, and Terry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

    ¡°The Metaphysical,¡± Terraform replied, his voice softer now, laden with a combination of reverence and regret. ¡°It¡¯s been in my possession for fifteen years¡­but I¡¯ve never been able to digest it.¡± He cast a chagrined glance towards Terry, the lines on his face deepening. ¡°I had hoped to pick Silver¡¯s brain about his, but after Skipper¡¯s betrayal, it felt...dangerous to reveal.¡±

    Terry¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°You thought he¡¯d steal it?¡±

    Terraform looked away, his gaze distant as if he were searching for the right words among memories long buried. ¡°I thought the temptation for reprisal would be strong. Factor in one of the most powerful objects in the world and one of the few men capable of taking it from me.¡± He shrugged, a motion that seemed to encompass all the weight of his decisions. ¡°I wanted to get his measure first.¡±

    Terry moved to the stone desk and leaned against it, his eyes narrowing with thought. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me why? I already told you I haven¡¯t talked to Silver in months.¡±

    Terraform strode to the edge of the room, pausing by the open window. The view of the sprawling Pit lay beneath him, a hive of activity. His voice dropped to a low, worried timbre. ¡°How much do you know about Qui Shen?¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind worked overtime trying to follow the change in subject. After a moment, he shrugged. ¡°Just what¡¯s on HeroWatch¡­¡±

    A shudder rippled through Terraform, his back straightening as if icy fingers had traced up his spine. ¡°There¡¯s so much more to that man than what¡¯s on a wiki.¡± He turned back to Terry, genuine fear glimmering in his eyes. ¡°In Asia, he¡¯s called the Incinerator. Because he burns his prisoners alive. Slowly¡­¡± Terraform shook his head softly, the magic sparking in his eyes a wild and dangerous thing. ¡°And not just other Awakened. Families, children¡­¡± His fists clenched briefly before he forced them to relax. ¡°He¡¯s the worst kind of super. He cannot be allowed to assimilate another Singularity.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes narrowed, his mind grappling with the gravity of Terraform¡¯s words. ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered my question¡­¡±

    Terraform chewed his lip. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Terraform shoved the Singularity back into his chest. The object seemed to slide past flesh and bone with an unsettling ease, merging once more with his body. ¡°If worst comes to worst, I had hoped to give it to Sol. Or Silver, if he was alive.¡± He shook his head, his expression grim. ¡°But with Sol¡¯s mental state¡­¡± His expression flipped, a smile forcing itself onto his face. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m telling you this, Terry. There¡¯s no S-rankers in the Market besides Sol, so most aren¡¯t even aware of the Singularity¡¯s existence. I suppose¡­¡± He chuckled humorlessly. ¡°I suppose I just needed to share my burden with someone.¡±

    Terry stepped forward, the respect he held for Terraform warring with the responsibility he felt for his own Quests and the people under his charge.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done so much for me, Terraform, and I know the scale between us is unbalanced. I don¡¯t mean to sound ungrateful, but I have my own war I¡¯m fighting back on the surface.¡±

    Terraform nodded, a sad smile on his face. ¡°I understand, Terry. At the end of the day, we¡¯re all slaves to those creatures pulling our strings.¡±

    Before Terry could respond, Terraform strode back to his liquid stone chair, settling his feet beneath his desk. ¡°Don¡¯t let me keep you any longer, Terry. I know you¡¯ve been waiting for another session with Marlon for a while.¡±

    ¡°Terraform¡­¡± Terry started to say, but the man glanced back, waving a hand casually.

    ¡°Please, Terry. Think nothing of it. I shouldn¡¯t have burdened you with this to begin with. I mean no offense, but this isn¡¯t the domain of a D-ranker. I still have friends on the surface. The Market isn¡¯t lost. Not yet. Not while I still breathe.¡±

    A bridge of crystalline glass formed from the window, and Terraform turned his back to Terry, as clear a dismissal as he had ever seen. Terry hesitated at the edge of the window, wondering if there was more he could offer, more he could say, but the man was right. He was just a D-ranker, and though he had close ties with multiple S-rankers, the only one he could truly call upon had been one stiff breeze from throwing himself into a pit of lava.

    Terry couldn¡¯t think of the words he wanted to say, so he simply strode onto the glass platform. It ferried him down to the bridges below, and as he glanced back towards Terraform¡¯s office, instead of the glass window he expected, a stone wall rose up, obscuring view into the man¡¯s office entirely. He didn¡¯t know why, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel like he had let a friend down in some way. Terraform had confided in him, shared the anxiety and weight of responsibility of running the Market. Maybe the man had just been looking for a sympathetic ear, and Terry had shut him down.

    No, he was being foolish. He was a D-ranker, just as Terraform had said, and he had his own Quest to worry about. His resolve hardened as he thought about his upcoming meeting with Marlon. He needed to unlock his Midmark Quest. He needed to get stronger as fast as he could. He wasn¡¯t strong enough to make a difference in the coming fight between Qui Shen and Terraform, but he would get stronger. And in order to do that, he needed to meet with Marlon. Especially if the Market was on the brink of invasion.

    As Terry stepped from Terraform¡¯s glass platform onto the nearest bridge over the Pit, he couldn¡¯t help but notice a particular air that had settled over the market. The other times he had been here, the pedestrian traffic had been just as bustling, but with an upbeat mood to it¡ªcasual displays of magic, superhuman strength and speed, the sounds of laughter. But now, the mood was somber, subdued. The people coming to and fro hurried with a sense of purpose that bordered on panic. There were no overt signs of a coming invasion, but it was obvious that Qui Shen¡¯s arrival was no secret.

    Terry wondered if they were preparing to fight or flee. As he neared the alley that led to Marlon¡¯s shop, he spotted a sign in all caps:

    SERVICE FOR OFFER: ONE-WAY PORTAL INTO THE PIT

    He chuckled to himself¡ªat least some things never changed. Rather than announce his presence, he parted space with the flex of his aura, opening a portal into Marlon¡¯s shop.

    The man was right where Terry expected, working his pottery wheel as if he¡¯d been waiting in the same spot all the months they had been apart. Marlon didn¡¯t even glance up when Terry¡¯s portal materialized. As he stepped through, appearing inside the shop, Marlon simply grunted in greeting.

    ¡°Good to see you too, Marlon,¡± Terry said with a wry smile.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°If it¡¯s not in the Ds, I¡¯m sending you straight to the Pit,¡± the man barked.

    Terry felt his pride stir and a smile formed on his lips.

    ¡°It¡¯s in the Ds. And I created my own Skill.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s foot stopped pumping the pottery wheel and he stood without a word. Terry was so taken aback by the sudden movement, he retreated a few steps. Without even a glance up, Marlon snagged a towel from the back of his chair and began wiping his hands clean.

    When he was done, he finally looked up.

    ¡°Bout damn time. Now, the real learning begins.¡±

    Excitement gripped him, butterflies forming as the hairs on his arms stood up. What could a master like Marlon teach when he was actually engaged?

    A portal snapped open in front of Terry and he couldn¡¯t help but marvel at how effortlessly Marlon manipulated space. The second wicker chair he stored in the closet materialized through the portal, settling before Terry¡¯s feet. Marlon shifted his chair until it was right in front of the other so that they¡¯d be face to face.

    Terry took a seat expecting Marlon to do the same. Instead, the man looked up toward the rafters, his eyes seeming to track the cats that dominated that space. Seconds passed where Marlon didn¡¯t say anything, simply stared up toward the ceiling, as if waiting for some signal.

    Then, a small portal cut through the air in time with the leap of a cat. The cat let out a piteous meow as its trajectory was intercepted by the portal, only to find itself suddenly in Marlon¡¯s arms. It whipped around in a panic for a moment, before Marlon¡¯s hand on its back settled it.

    He came back to the chair, easing himself into it as his hand continued to stroke the cat¡¯s back.

    ¡°What do you know about aura?¡±

    Terry was so thrown off by the odd way with which Marlon had corralled the cat, it took him a moment to process the question.

    ¡°Uh, sorry? Aura?¡± He had to forcibly bring his thoughts back on track, the pressure of Marlon¡¯s uncompromising gaze and terse tone slowing his mind. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­well, I know it¡¯s integral to our magic. Our System helps shape it for us when we activate our abilities. And I know we can alter it to create new Skills¡­¡±

    He trailed off as Marlon frowned.

    ¡°Chicken or the egg?¡± the man asked, his hand continuing to stroke the cat absentmindedly.

    Terry narrowed his eyes. ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°Which came first?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­I don¡¯t know.¡± Marlon¡¯s unrelenting gaze compelled him to answer, though he knew the question was generally considered rhetorical. ¡°If I had to guess, the chicken¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± he barked. ¡°Which came first, the System or your aura!¡± He shook his head with a disappointed frown. ¡°Are you familiar with subtext, Tammy?¡±

    Terry sighed at the man¡¯s intractable nature. Marlon only called him other names when he was annoyed. He forced in a deep breath and turned his mind back to the question.

    The answer was pretty obvious once he gave it some thought.

    ¡°Aura,¡± he replied definitively.

    Rather than praise the answer, Marlon grunted as if he were annoyed.

    ¡°Why do you say that?¡±

    ¡°Because I had aura before I Awakened. And there¡¯s plenty of non-Awakened who can express or manipulate aura.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that¡¯s not a function of the System, hm? Perhaps the Call flooded our world with aura? You¡¯ve built a theory off a flawed premise. Do better.¡±

    Terry felt the blood rush to his face, his skin prickling with a spike of adrenaline. He hated this rhetorical game. Why couldn¡¯t Marlon ever just give me a straight answer! Why couldn¡¯t he simply teach rather than browbeat me into submission?

    No, he cut off that line of thinking immediately. This was too important to let his ego get in the way. For what felt like the fifth time, he forced in calming breaths and turned his mind fully to the exercise¡ªbecause that¡¯s clearly what this was, a mental exercise to drive him to a certain realization.

    He considered everything he knew about aura. It was something that existed in non-Awakened, he knew that for certain. Not only had he been able to manipulate his own aura years before he Awakened, but he¡¯d also been able to sense others. All the undead he¡¯d ever come across were also adept at manipulating aura¡ªthe sanguine, ghouls, draugrs, patches. More than that, it was integral to their communication, something that had clearly developed over centuries, if not longer, which spoke to an entire history surrounding the existence of aura.

    Another factor he considered was that the Systems didn¡¯t seem to augment their Awakened¡¯s aura or physicality. Rather, the Body Tempering and other enhancement Skills simply coordinated aura in a specific way to foster those enhancements. Even his Presence Attributes weren¡¯t as simple as points he could assign, but rather were indicators of his development accomplished solely through hard work and practice.

    All those points served as evidence towards his theory, but the reality was, his instinct was the strongest indicator¡ªat least in his own mind. Somehow, he could feel the truth¡ªaura was an intrinsic component to the universe, something that ebbed and flowed all around him. And he knew that though it could be manipulated, shifted, even co-opted, it wasn¡¯t a new phenomenon brought about by the Call. It had a heft to it in his senses, a feeling of timelessness, antiquity, that he just felt.

    These thoughts flashed in his mind in an instant and he considered the different ways to explain how he knew. But ultimately, he suspected Marlon would find ways to pick any premise apart.

    ¡°I can say confidently that aura came first. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re trying to drive me toward that answer in a certain way.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But I just know it. I feel it in my bones.¡±

    Marlon pursed his lips, clearly annoyed that Terry had sidestepped with his answer. But after a moment, he nodded begrudgingly.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, though your explanation relies upon a bedrock of fallacies.¡± He nodded toward the cat held in his lap. ¡°Can you sense Marmalade¡¯s aura?¡±

    Marmalade¡­? Terry very purposefully didn¡¯t say out loud, though the questionable name itched at him.

    He knew instinctively that the answer would be yes. All living things had pinged against his aura sense in his experience. But he knew Marlon wouldn¡¯t accept an instinctual response. Instead, he reached out with his senses, feeling the aura around him. There was that ever present river¡ªas he¡¯d come to think of it¡ªcoursing around not only him, but the objects and creatures in the room. As he focused his senses, he saw Marmalade in that river.

    And reared back in utter shock.

    The cat¡¯s aura was¡­off. Something had been altered, shifted around to create little nodules that appeared unnatural in comparison to all the other animals he had observed.

    ¡°What¡­what am I seeing?¡± he breathed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve augmented his aura, see? I¡¯ve augmented all of their auras.¡±

    Terry looked up in confusion before realizing what the man meant. His eyes tracked higher and he let his senses range into the rafters. Even from this distance, he knew immediately what the man had meant.

    Every single cat¡ªeven the litter of kittens mewing in a makeshift hammock¡ªhad unusual growths on their auras.

    Marlon¡¯s voice brought his attention back.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fret, they¡¯re perfectly fine. I would never experiment on my babies if I weren¡¯t sure of the results.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open for a moment before he recovered.

    ¡°To what end? What do the¡­modifications accomplish?¡±

    Marlon looked up, tracking the cats above.

    ¡°Various things,¡± he replied with an absentminded tone. ¡°Some, I¡¯ve given tags that my System recognizes. Others, the anti-fall enchantment I¡¯ve been working on.¡± He frowned at that. ¡°They don¡¯t particularly like those, so I deactivated them for now.¡±

    ¡°But¡­but you¡¯re a Traveler. How¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Who says what I can and can¡¯t do with aura, hm? The limitations of these so called Systems are arbitrary. Haven¡¯t you learned anything from me?¡±

    With barely any help from you, he wanted to say. He decided to keep that to himself.

    ¡°You¡¯re saying¡­a Traveler can work items like an Artificer or learn to manipulate elements like an Elementalist or¡ª¡°

    ¡°I¡¯m saying, don¡¯t limit yourself by what they tell you. A damn copycat of all people should understand there are no limits to what we can do with our auras!¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind churned, a million thoughts competing for his attention. It made sense, was almost blatantly obvious now that he thought about it.

    Marlon¡¯s voice dipped low, a solemn note to his tone.

    ¡°The System is a crutch, a handicap, a¡­stencil. Learn to be an artist, not a paint by numbers hack. If you want things handed to you, stay within the bound of what your System offers you.¡±

    He leaned in, his magic flaring in his eyes for the first time that Terry could remember.

    ¡°But if you want to unlock the possibilities of the universe, you need to think outside the box. Create, destroy, experiment, adapt¡­¡± He leaned back, his hand encompassing the cats and pottery around them. ¡°This room may look like a pig¡¯s sty. But everything in here represents my life¡¯s work. A treasure trove of data¡­for those with the patience to unlock its secrets.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s aura reached out¡ªa small, fine tendril¡ªthat touched a particular spot on Marmalade¡¯s back. Terry sat forward, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he focused on what that tendril was doing. It touched a spot on the cat¡¯s aura, applied a small bit of ephemeral power, and Marmalade¡¯s entire aura shifted into a new configuration.

    Terry was too slow to spot the exact changes before Marlon released the cat. It bounded from his lap, a shiver tracing up its arched back. Then it leapt into the air¡­

    ¡­and disappeared from Terry¡¯s sight.

    But not from his senses. He tracked its passage with wide eyes as it appeared across the shop, high up in the rafters.

    He turned back to Marlon, his mouth gaping open in utter shock.

    ¡°Did¡­did that cat just teleport?¡±

    He wouldn¡¯t have believed it if there were any other solution. But Marlon¡¯s aura had remained inert during the entire exchange, only flexing to change the cat¡¯s aura in that brief instant. There was no other way to say it, that cat had teleported seemingly on its own.

    As for Marlon, he arched a single brow, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

    ¡°Limitations are arbitrary, Terry. And the possibilities¡­endless.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 7: To Hitting Walls

    There was a fire in Marlon¡¯s eyes that he had never noticed before, a passion that mirrored the genius Terry had come to associate with the man.

    ¡°How¡¯d you figure any of this out?¡± He couldn¡¯t imagine the sheer level of trial and error that must have been involved in reaching this point. A million pieces of seemingly useless pottery was probably just the tip of the iceberg, he mused.

    Marlon narrowed his eyes, thoughtfully observing Terry for a moment, as if appraising him. He clicked his teeth and shrugged.

    ¡°I was guided along my path, same as you, I imagine.¡±

    ¡°A mentor?¡± Terry asked.

    Marlon snorted derisively. ¡°Hardly. I¡¯m talkin¡¯ about Quests, boy.¡± His eyes flicked in a strange pattern, one Terry had come to associate with dismissing a System notification.

    ¡°Tempting fate a bit there, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Screw the Systems.¡± His words were harsh, but his tone light, more in line with a subtle ribbing between friends. ¡°Always tellin¡¯ us what we can and can¡¯t say. What we should or shouldn¡¯t do. Mine¡¯s been trying to force me out of my shop for years.¡± His eyes flicked again in that familiar pattern and Terry felt his skin flush in response.

    He didn¡¯t know what Marlon¡¯s System would do if he pushed the line, but his own mother had been assigned a Quest to kill his father after a relatively small slip of the tongue. She¡¯d been forced to endure agonizing pain after refusing. Agonizing enough to stage her own murder and resurrection.

    ¡°Are you sure you should be antagonizing your System like that?¡± Though he hesitated to question Marlon, the consequences of defiance had proved to be life altering.

    He grunted. ¡°My System knows better than to mess with me. I¡¯ll dig in and rewire my code if it were to try.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide at the offhand statement.

    ¡°Rewire? You mean like¡­remove the System entirely?¡±

    Marlon¡¯s eyes hardened. ¡°Why not?¡± he barked. ¡°Didn¡¯t I just tell you, limits are arbitrary.¡± He looked up with steel in his eyes, as if defying the heavens itself. ¡°I only tolerate it for convenience.¡±

    Terry settled back on his heels, feeling the paradigm he had come to know rocked by those simple statements.

    His mother¡¯s entire existence had been cut short by the pain inflicted by her System. That damned being that had given her a Quest to murder her own husband. And for what?

    ¡°My mother was given a Quest,¡± he said softly.

    Marlon tilted his head.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    Terry felt his throat tighten, forced to confront the pain he had buried. Knowing the truth had been one thing, but dealing with it had been entirely another. He¡¯d thrown himself into Topeka, dealing with evading capture, raids on supply depots, navigating the Black Wall. At the time, he¡¯d convinced himself he was too busy to address the emotions of the memories within the roses.

    But the truth was, he had simply been avoiding the pain.

    ¡°My parents are Awakened.¡± He looked up to see the confusion drift away in Marlon¡¯s eyes. ¡°My mother found out my father worked for a different Waker.¡± He spat the word, feeling his unresolved anger toward her System rising from some place deep inside him. ¡°It gave her a Quest to kill him. When she refused, it tortured her¡­¡± He trailed off, afraid to tell Marlon the rest, worried he might cry in front of the man.

    Marlon pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

    ¡°She was high ranking, then?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Why?¡±

    He nodded as if that answered everything.

    ¡°The Systems are parasites, Terry. Digging their claws in with every rank up. Why¡¯d you think I never advanced past D-rank? Lack of talent?¡±

    ¡°Just thought you were afraid to leave your shop,¡± Terry muttered.

    Marlon scoffed, then canted his head. ¡°Well, there¡¯s that.¡± He waved dismissively. ¡°But that¡¯s ¡®sides the point. If I wanted, I¡¯d be an S-ranker by now.¡±

    ¡°So¡­you¡¯re saying there¡¯s an unwritten pact between Wakers and their Awakened? More power leads to more control?¡±

    Terry felt uneasy at the question, wondered if it was as black and white as all that, or if Marlon was perhaps a bit jaded.

    Marlon sighed. ¡°We¡¯re getting off track, boy.¡± He wrinkled his nose as if reluctant to continue. ¡°But fine, I¡¯ll give you the short of it so we can move on. You say pact, I say trickery. What sort of pact necessitates so much secrecy that even the stipulations are unspoken? Did you know that choosing to Awaken opens the door for your Waker to claim a stake on you? That completing your Quests gives tacit approval for your System to seep tighter into your being? I don¡¯t mean on an intellectual level. I mean on a spiritual level.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    He considered that question carefully, avoiding a knee-jerk response. Had I known that, even intuitively?

    He supposed he had, in a way. When he¡¯d first Awakened, his System had given him a choice. He could have said no to the power, no to the game that outstripped his importance¡ªeven the importance of his world. The Weaver, as it had called itself, had been straightforward in one regard.

    There is a war, not only for Earth, but for all the rest, too. It had said as much.

    Power and agency had been too tempting for him to say no to what was offered. Of course, he knew now that agency was a nebulous concept when taking the Systems into account. But had he possessed any real agency before, as a prince to an Awakened¡¯s kingdom?

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say I knew,¡± he eventually replied. ¡°But I¡¯m not sure saying no was an option¡ªnot for me.¡±

    Marlon snorted, shaking his head.

    ¡°I would¡¯ve. If I knew what I knew now, I¡¯d have told my System to shove it where the sun don¡¯t shine.¡± He let out a heavy breath, his eyes drifting to the floor, giving the intractable man¡¯s face a softer edge. ¡°Never mind all that. Not trying to make you feel any type of way. And I¡¯m sorry to hear about your mom. Guess my point was, you gonna make a choice, should know the fine print, s¡¯all.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate that, Marlon. Looking back, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d change a thing. When my System made the offer, it told me I¡¯d be able to accomplish a lot of good¡ª¡± A familiar notification pinged in his vision, but he ignored it, emboldened by Marlon¡¯s own rebellious streak. ¡°That¡¯s worth inviting whatever this thing is in for a front row seat, in my estimation.¡±

    Marlon turned away to face the rows of pottery, his eyes unfocused, lost in thought.

    Terry shifted his weight, feeling an awkward silence begin to form. He broke that silence by changing the subject.

    ¡°Why do you do this?¡± He waved to encompass the pottery, the cats above, and the entire shop. ¡°Why go to all this effort? For pottery that won¡¯t shatter? To give your cats System tags and¡ªadmittedly awesome¡ªteleport abilities?¡±

    Marlon flinched, surprising Terry.

    ¡°Fight the boredom off, suppose,¡± he replied a bit too quickly.

    Terry wondered why he was deflecting. He considered leaving it, but found himself too curious not to push.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Marlon. There¡¯s more to it than that. I can feel it.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s head whipped around, a snarl forming on his lips. Terry¡¯s eyes widened and he took an unconscious step back.

    But just as quick as the anger appeared, it seemed to drain away.

    A tense moment passed before Marlon opened his mouth.

    ¡°I had a wife once.¡± His voice was barely above a whisper. ¡°And a¡­daughter.¡±

    Terry felt the back of his neck heat up, a mortified feeling churning inside his chest.

    ¡°Marlon, I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡± He trailed off as the man shook his head.

    ¡°No, I¡­I don¡¯t mind.¡± He glanced up, just a brief flick of his eyes before they cut back to the floor. ¡°Haven¡¯t spoken about them in years. Feels good.¡± His voice hitched and he cleared his throat. ¡°Twenty years gone now.¡± He shook his head in disbelief. ¡°Twenty years¡­¡±

    Marlon¡¯s eyes glazed over as if lost in thought. Terry took a gamble and broke the forming silence.

    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked quietly.

    The man blinked as if awakening, glancing up toward Terry in surprise. Then, his eyes cleared and he seemed to come back to himself.

    ¡°Car accident. Nobody¡¯s fault. Just a fluke accident. Some reason, that made it worse. Drunk driver would¡¯ve given me someone to hate. Super collateral, I could¡¯ve got revenge. But a tire popping, sending the car soaring off a bridge? No one to hate or blame there.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened as he connected the dots. Marlon was obsessed with anti-fall pottery because of the way his family had died; had given his cat the ability to teleport in a way that would have saved his own family. It all made a tragic sort of sense, when he thought about it.

    ¡°Went on the bender of all benders. Terraform pulled me up from a puddle of my own shit and piss, told me of an idea to create a little utopia underground.¡± Marlon flashed a wry smile, forced as it was. ¡°No cars here, see.¡± Then he tilted his head as if in realization. ¡°Lots of bridges though.¡± He snorted humorlessly. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m sure he thought I¡¯d develop into some sort of partner. Or at least someone of use. Instead¡­¡± He held his hands out wide, encompassing the shop. ¡°Just a useless recluse, tinkering with clay and far too many felines.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not useless, Marlon. The implications of your experiments are groundbreaking.¡± Terry nodded toward the rafters. ¡°I mean, come on! You made your cat a Traveler!¡±

    He shook his head sadly.

    ¡°No, Terry. I¡¯ve wasted these twenty years.¡± He waved a hand to encompass the shop. ¡°None of it works without me, see? Marmalade pulls on my aura when he teleports. The pots need me nearby to function.¡± He split space without a flicker of movement and a vase dropped into his hands. ¡°My life has been a waste.¡± He threw the vase away. Terry¡¯s senses were sharper than ever and he felt the slight connection between man and pottery. Then, he felt Marlon reject the pull, sever the connection.

    The vase shattered, littering the floor with a thousand pieces of ceramic.

    The shock of that sound rooted Terry in place and he struggled to think. What could he say to bring the man back from his melancholy?

    Moments passed and Terry felt powerless in the face of Marlon¡¯s mood. For some reason, he couldn¡¯t think of the words he needed. After the silence grew too heavy, Marlon¡¯s wicker chair creaked and he stood up. He walked toward the closet, pulling free a broom and dustpan. Any other time, Terry would have been shocked to see the man physically grab for something, rather than directly portal it into his hands.

    But now¡­all he could do was watch in shocked silence as Marlon began to sweep.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a break,¡± Marlon said softly without looking up from his task. ¡°Sorry, I know you came for a reason but¡­I just need to be alone for a bit.¡±

    Terry nodded, feeling tumbled like a leaf in the wind before Marlon¡¯s past. He had felt like he understood loss, but the weight of losing your entire life in an accident pulled at Terry¡¯s heart. Working for the next couple of decades to prevent it from ever happening again, only to hit a wall¡­that was a tragedy Terry couldn¡¯t imagine.

    ¡°Sure thing, Marlon. Just¡­let me know when¡­¡±

    He couldn¡¯t find the right words, but Marlon simply waved in reply before turning back to the broken pottery.

    Terry cut a portal through space, appearing outside the shop a moment later. He glanced around the alley, feeling lost for some reason. Then, a familiar cat leaped from the shop door, stopping in front of Terry¡¯s ankles, rubbing itself against his skin.

    He reached down, a smile forming.

    ¡°Hey, Marmalade.¡± He scratched the cat¡¯s back and it purred against his hand. ¡°I think Marlon needs you more than me.¡±

    A thought struck him suddenly and he activated his Aura Snapshot ability, capturing the mold of Marmalade¡¯s aura in an instant.

    The cat gave one more purr, then disappeared with a flash of aura. Terry examined the space the cat had been a moment earlier, marveling at how effortlessly it teleported.

    He resolved to figure out that trick, even if Marlon considered it a dead end.

    But first, he wanted to link up with his friends. He needed to do something to get his mind off of things and he knew Katie and Peter were Market natives. They¡¯d know all the fun things to do in the Market.

 B2 - Chapter 8: Awakening

    Marlon Ockers wove his considerable bulk through the labyrinth of shelves. It wasn¡¯t pretty, it wasn¡¯t agile, but he eventually made it to the front of his shop.

    More than a few tugs on his aura were indicative of his passage, vases and mugs and pots knocked down by his gut, then returned to their rightful positions through small portals.

    Small tugs, minor, easily ignored.

    His feet carried him right to the edge of the door, in front of the familiar threshold he hadn¡¯t crossed in decades. He swayed there, his head feeling light as he considered the alleyway beyond.

    With his senses, he tracked the boy further down the street, a conflicted feeling lodged in his mind.

    On the one hand, he enjoyed watching the kid awaken to the possibilities of his aura; this wasn¡¯t something he¡¯d ever considered teaching to others. And he had to admit, the lad had a knack for it.

    On the other hand, he¡¯d somehow found a way to pry back the layers calcified over Marlon¡¯s past; dredged up pain and hurt that he hadn¡¯t felt in years. Like an old scab getting caught on an edge, ripped back, exposed and bleeding.

    The feeling was unwelcome.

    His System nudged him at that moment. It did that every few years, when he was feeling particularly melancholic. It sensed his vulnerability and tried to whittle away at his resolve.

    Midmark Quest Given: [Leave the Shop]

    Simply leave your shop.

    Reward: C-rank

    ¡°Don¡¯t make me cut you out,¡± he grunted. But his heart wasn¡¯t in it. His System had good intentions and wasn¡¯t too annoying in the grand scheme of things.

    As if making his point, the notification dismissed on its own. He could¡¯ve sworn he felt a disappointed sensation as it did so. The System equivalent of puppy eyes.

    He ignored it, furling his nose at the smell of the alleyway beyond his doorway. It smelled fresh, clean; circulated by the Air Elementalists who kept the air breathable and at a tolerant temperature.

    He retreated back into his shop, the comforting mixture of cat and wet clay wrapping him in a familiar blanket of sensations.

    The inkling that had taken him, that little fancy to see the rest of the Market, dissipated as he meandered his way back through the shelving.

    No, this was his home. He didn¡¯t see any need, nor did he have any desire, to advance in rank or explore the Market.

    He had his cats and his experiments. And that was enough.

    <hr>

    Terry waited just past Marlon¡¯s alley for the others to find him. He¡¯d suggested they give directions at first, but Katie had indicated that the Market was difficult to navigate.

    As he waited, he examined Marmalade¡¯s aura snapshot. Already, he felt like he was identifying sections that seemed off, manipulated in some fashion. Actually understanding the purpose of each altered section was a different matter entirely.

    But progress was progress.

    It was only ten minutes of waiting later when he spotted Peter¡¯s head above the crowd. A moment later, Katie and Tania came into sight, leading the group toward Terry. He was a bit surprised to find the whole gang present¡ªexcluding Sol, who must have been in his therapy session still.

    When they spotted him, Katie looked back toward Peter and lightly slapped his arm.

    ¡°Told you!¡±

    Terry tilted his head, a smile forming at the sight of them.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Peter shrugged toward Katie, who turned back with a twinkle in her eye. He hadn¡¯t seen her this full of energy in the year he had known her. Something about returning home had inspired her with a youthful energy.

    ¡°Your directions,¡± Katie said. ¡°I told Peter you were at Midmark Marlon¡¯s, but he didn¡¯t believe me.¡±

    Terry arched a brow.

    ¡°Midmark Marlon?¡±

    Katie flushed, an embarrassed look on her face. ¡°It¡¯s pretty common knowledge he¡¯s been stuck at D-rank for twenty years. Market¡¯s a small place and everyone gets in everyone¡¯s business one way or another.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of everyone¡¯s business.¡± Alan had a confusing expression on his face¡ªalmost mischievous. ¡°You gonna tell him?¡±

    He directed that at Tania, who shifted uncomfortably.

    Terry looked between the five of them in confusion. ¡°Tell me what?¡±

    The others were staring at Tania, though she seemed reluctant to say. Then, she caved under the pressure of their gazes.

    ¡°We¡­we booked a professional Awakening service. I¡¯m going to try things the Market¡¯s way,¡± Tania finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Terry blinked. ¡°That¡¯s... that¡¯s great, Tania.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she muttered, looking at the ground. ¡°I hope so.¡±

    For a moment, he couldn¡¯t understand the contrast between the news and her mood. But then he realized that she was afraid, worried she would fail again.

    Katie stepped up, putting a comforting arm around Tania¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s going to be fine. We¡¯ve got it down to a science in the Market. None of that barbaric crap they do above¡ª¡± She turned to Terry. ¡°¡ªNo offense.¡±

    He waved it away. Remembering back to his own Awakening, he couldn¡¯t blame her¡ªit had been a pretty terrible introduction to becoming Awakened.

    Katie led the way as they meandered through the Services sector. It was a cacophony of sound and overwhelming sights as they moved deeper. And he couldn¡¯t help but notice the strange juxtaposition of modern technology and homemade decorations. On one side of the street, he spotted a stall with colorful cloth draping along four wooden poles anchored into the ground. And on the other, a flashing holographic sign pulled at his attention. He might have assumed the disparity in decorations were due to income inequality, but the cloth stall advertised expensive B-rank Artifacts, while the fancy looking shop was a simple bed and breakfast establishment.

    It spoke more of an eccentricity than a culture of haves and have-nots, which he appreciated.

    As they strode deeper into the sector, Terry couldn¡¯t help but notice Tania¡¯s energy. Her aura was erratic, shifting wildly to his senses. But more than that, she seemed jittery, on edge, constantly glancing around at every vendor hawking their wares or passerby brushing against her in passing.

    He reached out and gripped her shoulder gently. She flinched, then scowled¡ªmore at her own overreaction than at the touch, he figured.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna be fine, Titania.¡±

    She swatted at him and he dodged neatly out of the way. He¡¯d found that her full name always snapped her out of whatever funk she had slipped into.

    ¡°You¡¯re so annoying.¡± She smiled to soften the blow, but it drained away quickly. Her voice lowered so only he could hear. ¡°What if it doesn¡¯t work?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gonna work.¡±

    ¡°But what if it doesn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gonna work.¡± He hardened his gaze, doing his best to inject his confidence into her. ¡°The Wichitan way wasn¡¯t for you. Not even sure it was good for me. I was just so damned pissed off at my father, I pushed through out of sheer spite.¡±

    She snorted, peering at him with a side eye.

    ¡°If all it took was spite, I¡¯d have Awakened ten years ago.¡±

    He laughed, nodding along. ¡°You could say that again.¡±

    Her eyes widened in mock outrage. ¡°Don¡¯t agree with me, ass!¡± She tried for another swat, but he bounced away, hiding behind Tristan who cried out in surprise as a vengeful Tania tried to reach around Terry¡¯s body shield.

    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± Katie, who had been leading the group, called out.

    Tania¡¯s expression dropped instantly, the anxiety rising back to the surface.

    ¡°Let¡¯s¡­let¡¯s reschedule. Maybe tomorrow or¡ª¡±

    Katie looped her arm around Tania¡¯s and physically dragged her into the shop.

    ¡°Too late!¡± she said cheerfully. ¡°Non-refundable deposit!¡±

    Tania grumbled under her breath but otherwise let Katie lead her inside.

    The others crowded in behind, and Terry found himself pressed tight into a small waiting room. There were two chairs along one wall and a small woman behind a counter on the other wall. She wore multiple pieces of jewelry on every limb, bracelets jingling at her wrists, four sets of loop earrings hanging low, and half a dozen necklaces of various metals around her neck. Her clothing was festive and bright, greens and blues like a peacock¡¯s coloring. On the edge of her nose, a bedazzled set of reading glasses hung precariously.

    When she noticed them file in, she rose from her chair with a smile.

    ¡°Ah, my afternoon appointment, I gather?¡± Terry noticed an accent so slight, it almost hid under the woman¡¯s tone. He strained his ears as she spoke, trying to place it. Her eyes traced over a ledger on the counter. ¡°Titania Polk? Which one of you is Titania?¡±

    Tania raised her hand timidly.

    ¡°I prefer Tania.¡±

    The woman tilted her head in surprise.

    ¡°That¡¯s a shame, dear. Titania is a beautiful name. Queen of the fairies. Powerful, bold.¡±

    Tania shrugged. ¡°Just a made up character,¡± she muttered.

    The woman¡¯s lips puckered as if considering Tania¡¯s words blasphemy. Then, she shrugged, her eyes twinkling as if nothing had happened.

    ¡°Well, come around here then. Let me get a look at you.¡±

    She moved around the counter, walking through Peter and Alan as if they weren¡¯t there. They squeezed against the wall to make room for the woman.

    Katie sidled over toward Terry, lowering her voice to a whisper.

    ¡°Madame Juliette is the best in the Market,¡± she hissed. ¡°Awakens half the natives.¡±

    Terry felt a sense of doubt creeping in. She didn¡¯t exactly seem professional.

    ¡°Did you use her?¡± he asked back, matching her whisper as Madame Juliette fussed over a barely tolerant Tania.

    Katie shook her head. ¡°We did it in house. My grammie does the whole family.¡±

    Madame Juliette called over her shoulder.

    ¡°You one of Louisa¡¯s?¡± She glanced back, her eye catching on Katie for a moment. ¡°How is the old bat?¡±

    Katie chuckled as if her grammie and Madame Juliette had a history.

    ¡°She¡¯s slowing down, ma¡¯am. But still as fiery as ever.¡±

    Madame Juliette scoffed, then turned to eye Terry and the others.

    ¡°Did my apprenticeship with Louisa. Tougher than rawhide.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s grammie,¡± Katie replied with a laugh.

    Madame Juliette pursed her lips and nodded. ¡°Saw her get in a scrap with Terraform once. Crazy old bat started chewing on pieces of stone, just to show she was tougher than his element. Think she broke a tooth¡ª¡± She leaned in conspiratorially. ¡°¡ªbut don¡¯t tell no one I told ya that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Katie replied.

    Madame Juliette clapped her hands, then shooed Tristan, Peter, and Alan out of the way.

    ¡°You boys, go stand outside. Too much testosterone throwing off the aura.¡± They each shared a confused glance, hesitating as if unclear if she was joking. She beckoned Tania to follow, then froze when she realized no one was moving. Her eyebrows rose and she pointedly glanced toward the door.

    Tristan was the first to get the message and quick stepped out of the shop. Alan and Peter were close behind. Terry made to follow them, but she stopped him with an upraised hand.

    ¡°Not you, young man. The connection between you and Miss Tania is strongest. You can stay.¡± She nodded at Katie. ¡°And Louisa¡¯s girl, you can stay if you¡¯d like, but I¡¯ve a feeling those boys will get into some mischief without a chaperone.¡±

    Katie laughed at that, nodding as she turned to Tania.

    ¡°You got this,¡± she said softly, giving the girl a hug. Then, she followed the others outside.

    Leaving Tania, Madame Juliette, and Terry alone in the shop.

    ¡°Follow me into the back, kids.¡±

    A bead curtain separated the front of the shop from the back, rattling as she passed through them.

    Terry and Tania hesitated, locking eyes for a moment. He gave her a steady nod and she sucked in a deep breath.

    ¡°Here goes nothing.¡±

    The back of the shop was darker and Tania hesitated at the bead curtain for a moment while her eyes adjusted. With Terry¡¯s Attributes and his Master of Light ability, the transition was less jarring.

    As he followed her in, there was a chaise lounge along the far wall. Shelves filled with various ingredients lined the other walls, giving the shop more of a witch¡¯s aesthetic than a professional Awakener.

    Madame Juliette was standing by one of those shelves, pulling down a series of vials and depositing them on a small work table in the center of the room.

    Tania eyed the multicolored liquids in the vials and Terry felt her emotions peak through her aura.

    Madame Juliette didn¡¯t seem to notice as she continued collecting ingredients.

    ¡°Take a seat, dear,¡± she said, indicating the lounge with a wave. ¡°Gotta mix the tonic up. Won¡¯t take more than a few minutes. Start doing some deep breaths in the meantime.¡±

    Tania slowly walked toward the lounge, casting a desperate look back toward Terry as if asking him to save her. He flashed her a thumbs up and she rolled her eyes, though he noticed her aura ease just a bit.

    They waited in complete silence as Madame Juliette combined half a dozen vials seemingly at random. After a few minutes, she held the final result up and gave it a swirl. It glowed iridescent, and Terry was surprised to sense a bit of aura infused into the, for lack of a better word, potion.

    She strode toward Tania and held out the vial.

    ¡°Drink up, dear.¡±

    Tania eyed it cynically.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Homebrew of my own design. Eases the nerves, opens the senses, primes the aura.¡± She pushed it toward the girl. ¡°Won¡¯t hurt. Might taste ripe going down, but harmless otherwise.¡±

    Tania hesitantly took the vial, casting one more desperate look toward Terry before taking a deep breath and downing it in one gulp.

    Madame Juliette took the vial and deposited it on the work table while Tania furled her nose at the taste.

    ¡°What now?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Lay back and relax. I¡¯ll guide you through the process.¡±

    Tania¡¯s energy was peaked and judging by the scowl on her face, laying down was the last thing she wanted to do. But she listened, leaning her head back against a pillow.

    Madame Juliette pulled up a stool and leaned over Tania.

    ¡°Close your eyes and slow your breathing. Deep inhales, hold, yes, three seconds. Now¡­out. Slower this time.¡±

    Terry watched with curiosity as Madame Juliette walked her through breathing exercises for a minute. He opened his senses, studying Tania¡¯s aura for any change. Experience and anecdotes told him that an Awakening was generally short¡ªa few minutes max. But his had involved a near-death experience, so a few minutes was a practical limit. He wondered if Madame Juliette¡¯s method would be different.

    ¡°Now, visualize a role model of some sort. Someone you aspire to be, perhaps. Think of their Class, their powers.¡± Madame Juliette grabbed a nearby hand towel and folded it in half before gently draping it over Tania¡¯s eyes. Then, she held her hands above Tania. ¡°Good, I see it.¡±

    ¡°You do?¡± Tania blurted out.

    ¡°No talking,¡± the woman chided.

    Tania clamped her mouth shut.

    ¡°Now¡­begin counting back from one hundred slowly.¡±

    ¡°One hundred¡­ninety-nine¡­¡±

    Tania barely reached ninety when she drifted off. Suddenly, her aura shifted and he gasped in surprise.

    There was a visible connection trailing off¡ªnot physically, but magically. It was subtle, but he could see it with his senses as clear as day.

    Was that her Waker¡¯s connection?

    He reached his senses forward. What would he feel if he touched its aura? Would it be like his own Awakening or¡ª

    Madame Juliette swatted his aura down with a contemptuous flick.

    ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt, silly boy,¡± she hissed.

    Heat rushed to his face and he rubbed at the back of his neck in embarrassment.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he whispered.

    He settled on observing from a distance. The connection to her Waker began to pulse, and her aura matched the rhythm.

    Then, it began to shift, morphing before his senses. There was an injection of power along the connection, joining seamlessly with her aura, coursing through it, shaping it.

    The process went on for a minute and he mentally cataloged the ongoing changes¡ªnot in the way he¡¯d catalog a Skill, but more out of academic interest. When the shifts seemed to finish, the connection pulled away, as if returning up into the heavens or the stars or wherever the Wakers existed.

    Madame Juliette reached out now, her own aura enveloping Tania¡¯s, running it over the girl¡¯s like one might run their hand over a rough surface.

    ¡°She¡¯s accepted the bargain,¡± the woman said softly. She glanced over her shoulder at Terry. ¡°But her emotions are erratic. It was not what she had hoped for.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow.

    ¡°You can tell that¡ª¡±

    Tania suddenly bolted up into a sit, her eyes flitting around wildly, her breathing ragged, panicked.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Tania screamed, her voice cracking from the sheer panic. ¡°They¡¯re coming¡ª¡±

    The entire room shuddered, like a small quake had hit the Market.

    Then, an even more violent shaking rocked them, sending Tania rolling to the floor and Terry staggering against the table.

    In the stunned silence that followed, a siren started blaring, eerily reminiscent of the air raid siren that had signaled Sol¡¯s attack once upon a time.

    A moment later, Terraform¡¯s familiar voice echoed in the room.

    ¡°All Market citizens. We are under attack. Head to the nearest shelter in an orderly fashion. I repeat: head to the nearest shelter in an orderly fashion.¡±

    A ripple played across Terry¡¯s senses, the feeling of a restricting presence dissipating suddenly. The now-absent feeling was one he was all too familiar with¡ªhad felt it in Topeka, Wichita, and the Market.

    The spatial-locking Artifact controlling Traveler passage to and from the Market was down.

 B2 - Chapter 9: This is Not a Defense

    When space was forced open against its will, it often carried ripples along its length¡ªtears that fissured out from the epicenter like post-quake tremors.

    A series of those tremors smashed into Marlon¡¯s senses with the subtlety of a brick to the face.

    He burst to his feet, cursing vividly as Duke burst from his lap with an indignant howl, knocking his pottery wheel to the floor in an explosion of wet clay.

    But he didn¡¯t dwell.

    Something was coming through that rent in space. He didn¡¯t know what or who, but it damned sure wasn¡¯t an out-of-season Christmas card.

    He reached across space, feeling the familiar twists and turns in the Market¡¯s air. There were two ways to open a portal¡ªwell, there were a million, but there were two general ideas that covered most cases.

    Slow, methodical; visualize both the journey and the destination. Create the connection, connect the entrance and the exit, then enact the vision with aura.

    Or, the quick and dirty way. Skip the song and dance, and rip that sumbitch open at the seams.

    The same held true for the inverse. Denying a connection could be slow and pretty or fast and loose. Marlon preferred to do things methodically; measure twice, cut once and all that¡ªpottery not withstanding.

    But there was only one man who had both the knowledge and the power to pierce space in the Market and target the Artifact deep in its center, encased below the Pit.

    Well, one man besides Marlon.

    And last he¡¯d heard, Skipper been sent packing with his tail between his legs.

    So Marlon reached out to that spot, found the strand worming its way through the cracks in space, and began cutting it off from its source, pinching the wellspring of power that was necessary to beat the Artifact.

    Instantly, new power injected into the tendril, fighting off Marlon¡¯s efforts.

    And the sheer volume was staggering.

    Any other day, Marlon would have bet the farm on himself against Skipper. At least in this situation. Marlon was less than a mile from the portal exit fighting its way through the lock, while Skipper¡¯s connection was dozens¡ªpossibly hundreds¡ªof miles away. And he was fighting against an S-ranked Artifact.

    The scales should have swung wildly in Marlon¡¯s favor.

    But something was off; the power expenditure was staggering, an order of magnitude greater than Skipper could bring to bear. Finesse and skill could only compensate so much.

    There was a high-ranking Amplifier in play¡ªmaybe even more than one. Juicing Skipper up like a shot of steroids in the ass.

    Their silent tug-of-war ended before it could start. The tidal wave of sheer force eclipsed Marlon, drowned his aura. He was forced to watch as a small object, no larger than his head, was slipped through the net.

    He ranged his senses across it, identifying it just as much by feel as by its aura signature.

    ¡°Terraform¡ª¡±

    His cry was cut off as the bomb exploded. The shop shook so violently, every single shelf was sent tumbling. A thousand pieces of pottery pulled at his aura at once, but he cut the connections with a thought, focusing his attention on space around the Market.

    A moment later, the lock on space dropped. The sensation was like a wet blanket drawn away from his face. His senses exploded with information, space reaching out to him like a long-lost lover.

    There was no time to revel in the freedom; destroying the Artifact was only the opening salvo.

    More attacks were on the way and it was up to him to intercept them.

    <hr>

    Terry, Tania, and Madame Juliette stood stock-still in stunned silence. Then, the sounds of screaming and panic filtered in from outside the shop.

    Katie raced in a moment later, her hair in disarray, dust coating her cheeks.

    ¡°You guys okay!¡± There was the slightest tremor to her voice, her eyes casting about wildly.

    Juliette had recovered first and was helping Tania back to her feet.

    ¡°We¡¯re alright, dear,¡± the woman replied. Her eyes were set, narrowed with determination¡ªthe look of a grandmother about to get to the bottom of all the fuss. ¡°We need to hurry¡ª¡±

    A voice sounded from nowhere, echoing inside the tiny room.

    ¡°Juliette, you¡¯re needed.¡±

    It was Terraform, Terry realized, his words resonating through the stone.

    Katie shrieked in surprise, while Terry flinched. Tania was still in a daze¡ªeither from the tumble to the floor or her Awakening.

    Juliette, however, seemed unfazed.

    ¡°Right away, sir.¡± She walked Tania over, handing the girl off to Terry. She began to usher them all outside as she spoke to Katie. ¡°You remember the shelter on Atwood?¡±

    Katie nodded quickly. ¡°Yes, but isn¡¯t the Crag Point shelter closer¡ª¡±

    Juliette shook her head. ¡°Too small, it¡¯ll fill up before you get there.¡± As they left the shop, Alan, Peter, and Tristan raced over. ¡°Get to the shelter, children. I would escort you but my services are needed.¡±

    ¡°We understand, ma¡¯am,¡± Tristan replied for them all.

    The woman started toward the Pit, but Terry stopped her with a hand on her arm. She looked down in question, her brow furrowing, the precursor to the annoyance he saw bubbling to the surface.

    ¡°I can teleport you to Terraform,¡± he said, releasing her arm. ¡°It¡¯ll be faster.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Her eyes widened.

    ¡°A Traveler? Excellent.¡± She turned back to Katie. ¡°Make for Crag Point. I need to borrow your friend.¡±

    Katie simply nodded, but Tania stepped forward.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming.¡±

    Juliette ignored her words, turning toward Terry.

    ¡°With all haste, young man.¡±

    Terry eyed Tania even as he began to connect his aura to Terraform¡¯s office. A second presence brushed against his aura. It moved with a deft touch, engulfing Terry¡¯s aura, threatening to snuff it out. But they recognized each other at the same moment and Marlon retracted from Terry¡¯s power. A moment later, a portal sliced across Terry¡¯s senses, popping into existence in between the group.

    Marlon¡¯s surly face peered back at them, his shop¡¯s interior in the background.

    ¡°Terry.¡± Then, his eyes caught on Juliette. ¡°Ah, Romero. Playtime¡¯s over, get to Terraform. I¡¯ll hold the intrusions from here.¡± Another portal cut through space, effortless to Terry¡¯s senses. ¡°This one leads to a shelter. Send the kids through.¡± Juliette began ushering them through Marlon¡¯s second portal, though Tania simply crossed her arms and stood her ground. ¡°Terry, school¡¯s out¡ª¡± His face suddenly constricted and a moment later, Terry felt what Marlon must have sensed.

    A half-dozen probes touched all around the Market, light brushes against the fabric of space that Terry might not have felt if his senses weren¡¯t dialed to the max. He felt the tendrils of aura begin to peel back reality, begin to bridge space to some place too far away for Terry to follow.

    Then, six matching tendrils snuffed the forming portals out, slamming them shut with a finality he could feel.

    On the other end of Marlon¡¯s portal, his face was pulled tight in a grimace.

    ¡°No time to chat. Can you get to Terraform?¡±

    Terry blinked, then realized the question was for him.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied, nodding hastily.

    Marlon¡¯s portal winked out without so much as a flex of aura, leaving them behind.

    How had he projected sound through the portal? And light was passing through in both directions.

    Terry added two-way portals to his list of things to investigate¡­when they weren¡¯t dealing with an impending war.

    When he shook himself from those thoughts, he saw that Juliette had managed to coax everyone into the portal leading to the shelter.

    Everyone, except Tania, that was.

    They locked eyes and she crossed her arms, as if daring him to say anything. He simply shrugged, then began to coalesce his aura inside Terraform¡¯s office. He felt Marlon¡¯s presence through the weave of his aura, but otherwise had no issue forming the portal.

    Space parted and Juliette stepped through without a hint of trepidation. They followed on her heels.

    Terraform¡¯s office was a hive of activity, dozens of people milling about in pockets, quiet chatter combining into a dull buzz that filled the air.

    The man himself was conversing with two others¡ªan older woman with piercing eyes that instantly locked onto the three of them, and a younger-looking man who nonetheless had an aura that was palpable even across the room.

    The woman who had spotted them called out, her voice cutting across the din like a hot knife through butter.

    ¡°Juliette, took you long enough! Get over here. There¡¯s work to do.¡±

    The sharp tone surprised Terry and he waited to see if the woman would fire back. But Juliette seemed instead to shrink in on herself, like a child scolded by their mother.

    ¡°Coming, Louisa,¡± Juliette called back. She flicked a quick glance toward Terry, then gripped Tania¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my dear. You deserve a better Awakening than this. But duty calls.¡±

    Tania simply nodded and Juliette left in a rush, joining with Terraform and the two others.

    ¡°Guess that¡¯s Katie¡¯s grandma,¡± Tania said idly as she watched Juliette jog away. ¡°Not seeing the family resemblance myself¡­¡±

    Terry pulled his attention away from Terraform, the bustling room, and the background noise of Marlon and the portals he was constantly snapping shut.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    Tania didn¡¯t look over as she replied. ¡°What?¡±

    He waited a beat, his eyebrows ready and raised for when she finally glanced over.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked again.

    ¡°Congratulations,¡± Terry said. ¡°And welcome to the fight¡­or whatever.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Been fighting.¡±

    He shrugged, feeling a bit of embarrassment. ¡°I know that¡­it¡¯s just a tradition to say that or something.¡±

    She nodded, glancing off, something clearly on her mind.

    He lightly bumped her shoulder.

    ¡°Well¡­?¡±

    She flicked her eyes back, then away.

    ¡°Well, what?¡±

    He pursed his lips, realizing that her distraction was a defense mechanism to avoid discussing her Awakening.

    ¡°Not what you were hoping for?¡± he asked quietly.

    She furled her nose. ¡°I got Seer. I¡­¡± She blinked, her eyes going out of focus for a moment.

    A notification, he realized. Her System warning her.

    She waved her hand dismissively, growling low in her throat.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said, answering his unasked question. His skepticism must have been plain on his face, because she turned to face him. ¡°Really, I¡¯m fine. I can transition after my Midmark and¡­¡± Her tone was weak, full of doubt.

    Before he could figure out how to console her, Terraform turned and addressed the room, his deep voice carrying clearly across the din.

    ¡°Attention everyone. Let¡¯s begin the debrief.¡±

    The crowd instantly settled, all the side conversations cutting off abruptly.

    Behind Terraform, Louisa, Juliette, and the unnamed man, the wall shifted, liquefying until a floor-to-ceiling map of the Market was carved directly into the stone. All along the map, flashes appeared and then shortly disappeared after a few seconds. Without realizing how, Terry knew they were portal incursions that were being stifled by Marlon.

    There were also a dozen markers that were labeled as shelters, and small numbers next to them that fluctuated by the second. He guessed they were occupancy numbers, as they were tallying up to somewhere around the expected number of Market citizens.

    ¡°Some of you are aware of the looming threat, while some of you are hearing this for the first time.¡±

    A hush settled over the room. It wasn¡¯t a hush Terry could hear¡ªeveryone was already quiet, their attention fully on Terraform. No, this was a hush Terry felt, a sense that the aura in the room had stilled for the briefest moment, that the very air seemed to hold its breath.

    ¡°As you probably all felt, the Market¡¯s primary anti-Traveler Artifact was destroyed a few minutes ago. In the interim, there have been twenty-three additional attempts to penetrate Market space¡ªall intercepted by a certain Traveler you should all be familiar with.¡±

    Hushed chatter began to pick up among the gathered people, but Terraform held up his hands for silence.

    ¡°The good news is, our enemy is still many hundreds of miles away, giving us the advantage in maintaining spatial authority. The bad news is, they¡¯re on their way and moving fast.¡±

    A voice cut across the room, a desperate need in their tone.

    ¡°Who? Who¡¯s attacking the Market, Terraform?¡±

    Faces turned to look at the speaker, then whipped back forward in anticipation of the answer.

    Terraform stared steadily out toward the small crowd, his back firm, his aura a titanic presence in the room. He projected strength and surety¡ªand even though Terry knew who was coming for them, knew why he was coming for them, he still felt buoyed by the man¡¯s presence.

    ¡°Our enemy¡­is Qui Shen, with assistance from Skipper¡ª¡±

    A cacophony of sound erupted from the crowd, shouts of fear, doubt, anger, all mingling into the disturbed aura to create chaos that sent Terry¡¯s teeth grinding.

    Terraform stood there impassively, the sound and turbulent aura crashing futilely against him like he was a stone wall. But at his side, Katie¡¯s grandmother¡ªLouisa¡ªwas snarling like a feral dog.

    Terry hadn¡¯t felt her aura initially, but her bent back straightened and her cane snapped against the ground.

    And all the aura in the room rushed toward her like she was a vortex, a cyclone, sucking the energy in with one effortless pull.

    Then¡­

    It exploded back out, rippling across the crowd, staggering those in the front, fuzzing Terry¡¯s senses where he stood in the back.

    The sensation was like a bucket of cold water in the face, exposing his senses raw, short circuiting the chatter in the room.

    ¡°Quiet yourselves.¡±

    Her voice¡ªin contrast to her aura¡ªwas soft, tremulous even. But the effect in conjunction with the wave of aura that preceded it was chilling. Her narrowed eyes scanned the crowd for a moment, then turned to Terraform.

    ¡°They¡¯re all yours.¡±

    The slightest uptick at the corner of his mouth was the only hint of his amusement, but he quickly schooled his expression and addressed the crowd.

    ¡°By all accounts, Qui Shen comes in force. I sense dozens of A-rankers and hundreds of lower-ranks among their army. Amplifiers bolster their Stone Elementalists, hampering my attempts to prevent their passage. And the closer they come, the more likely Skipper will be to overpower Marlon.¡±

    He studied the room, his eyes seeming to pick out everyone and no one at the same time. The energy built, until every person was hanging on his next words.

    ¡°Make no mistake. We aren¡¯t here to form a defense¡­¡± Terry¡¯s breath caught as he considered the implication. ¡°The purpose of this group¡­will be to coordinate an evacuation.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 10: Martyr

    Before the shouts could even begin, Katie¡¯s grandmother, Louisa, began to pull the aura into herself once more.

    Everyone got the message loud and clear.

    Terraform eyed the group as if waiting for the brave¡ªor idiotic¡ªsoul willing to challenge the older woman¡¯s stance. A full ten seconds passed before the man seemed satisfied.

    ¡°Every moment we waste is a another opportunity for a bomb or raiding party to bypass Marlon. I¡¯ll give three minutes for relevant questions. I¡¯ll ignore anything else. Hands.¡±

    An older man in the middle of the group raised his hand. He seemed to have the largest flock of people gathered about him and Terry could feel his aura even through the churn of Louisa¡¯s pull.

    Terraform¡¯s lips set tight¡ªa rare reaction from the generally stoic man¡ªand he seemed almost reluctant to point toward the older man.

    His voice was high and reedy, almost aristocratic, but with a whining undertone that aged the man down multiple decades. ¡°Why?¡±

    Terraform wrinkled his nose in distaste, but it was Louisa who answered for him.

    ¡°Why what, Rupert!¡± she growled. ¡°The man said don¡¯t waste our time.¡±

    The man named Rupert stood up straighter, as if trying to look down his nose at the hunched over woman.

    ¡°Why¡ª¡± He drawled out the word slowly, as if seeing how long he could make the syllables last. ¡°¡ªis Qui Shen coming? What have we done to offend him?¡± He cast a pointed look toward Terraform at that, clearly insinuating that this might be a Terraform issue, not a Market issue.

    There was some slight grumbling at that, but Terry couldn¡¯t help but notice that a large portion of the crowd followed Rupert¡¯s gaze, looking to Terraform for a response.

    Of course, Terry knew why Qui Shen was coming, knew that he had made the long trek across continents and hundreds of miles underground for the Singularity in Terraform¡¯s chest. Even with an S-ranked Traveler at his beck and call, the logistics of launching a war party across those distances¡ªwhile leaving your kingdom behind¡ªwere not the moves of a whim.

    Qui Shen was making a bold play and Rupert had correctly surmised that the stakes were high.

    Terraform eyed the crowd, perhaps trying to read the mood. After a moment, he shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to divulge that information.¡±

    Oof, Terry thought. That¡¯s a bold strategy.

    Rupert and his hanger ons shared shocked looks, and a low rumbling began to form among the crowd. The man surveyed the mood, clearly waiting for a consensus to form before speaking up.

    ¡°That¡¯s an unacceptable answer.¡± Rupert looked around him, clearly garnering support. ¡°We deserve to know why we¡¯re being evicted from our home!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not being evicted, you dolt,¡± Louisa called out. She had more words on the edge of her tongue when Terraform placed a gentle hand on her arm. She clamped her lips tight with a scowl that could peel paint.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to stay and fight, Rupert,¡± Terraform said lightly. ¡°But Qui Shen isn¡¯t known for his mercy and I¡¯m afraid this is a battle we cannot win.¡± He scanned the crowd once more, his eyes seeming to pierce through the anger, his words reminding them of the impending doom. ¡°Next question.¡±

    Rupert bristled, his hand twitching as if he were bold enough to take another shot at the leader of the Market. But Terraform¡¯s eyes were balls of power, burning like the lava down in the Pit directly below his office.

    After a tense moment, a woman in the back, nearby Terry, raised her hand.

    ¡°Yes, Marin?¡±

    She flinched at her name as if she hadn¡¯t believed she would be given the floor. Drawing in a deep breath, she recovered her nerve.

    ¡°Coul-could we surrender? If we don¡¯t fight¡­¡±

    She trailed off as Terraform shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already corresponded with the man.¡± Surprise filtered through the crowd, including Terry. ¡°He explained to me in no uncertain terms that he has been mandated by Heaven to burn me and all who I have touched.¡± Terraform sighed heavily, clearly distraught at the news. ¡°If I had to guess, I¡¯d say he¡¯s been given a Quest to wipe out the Market and all its residents.¡±

    The crowd threatened to boil over once more, but Terraform cut it off before the unrest could materialize.

    ¡°We have no choice. Some of us will fight and stall while the others flee. That is the only thing we can do.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not coming?¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t see who had said it, but he had to agree with the urgency and distraught tone in the person¡¯s voice. Why wasn¡¯t Terraform planning on leaving with them?

    The leader of the Market shook his head.

    ¡°After this meeting, I leave with those who have already agreed to follow. We meet Qui Shen deep under the earth, away from the lava of the Pit where he will be strongest. I¡¯ve identified a section along their path where there is nothing but stone within ten miles. There, I will have my best shot at ending the threat. And if nothing else¡­I¡¯ll delay them as long as possible so that the rest of you may put as much distance between you as you can.¡±

    Another person in the crowd raised a hand and Terraform nodded.

    ¡°Where can we go?¡±

    ¡°There is only one faction within a thousand miles capable of challenging Qui Shen.¡± Terry¡¯s stomach dropped as he realized who Terraform meant. ¡°You¡¯ll head for the North American East Coast, the stronghold of the SPC.¡±

    Dancer¡­

    Tania glanced toward Terry, obvious concern in her eyes. He glanced back, shrugging with a feigned lack of concern.

    He didn¡¯t want her to see the weight pressing down on him. The absence of Silver, who had served as his bulwark against the Dancer threat. The flight from Wichita, the loss of that safe haven.

    And now the Market, the one place that had felt unassailable, was on the verge of destruction.

    For some reason, it felt like the world was conspiring against him, stripping away his comforts, forcing him from any place he might call home.

    So selfish¡­

    This wasn¡¯t about him¡ªthousands were being displaced from their homes. He needed to think about them. He needed to help save as many lives as possible.

    Terraform had continued talking, but he had missed it. But as the back wall of the room liquefied, Terry¡¯s attention snapped back into focus.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Sol was there, striding toward them from the tunnel that had been previously hidden. Hunter¡ªthe Hypnotist helping him cope with the trauma of his imprisonment¡ªwas at his shoulder, but all eyes were on the S-ranker.

    The condensed aura around the man was a mountain shifting the ambient flow, impossible to miss. Murmurs of surprise and excitement began to build among the crowd as they realized another S-ranker had joined them.

    Terraform held out his hand to indicate the approaching Sol.

    ¡°Many of you know Sol by reputation. He is an S-ranker and one of the Originals. He happened to be visiting in a fortuitous turn of events.¡± He placed a hand on Sol¡¯s shoulder and Terry was pleased to note that the man appeared steady, his eyes slowly trailing over the crowd. ¡°He¡¯s agreed to lead the evacuation to the surface.¡±

    Rupert raised his hand as he called out, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t a Market native lead the group?¡± He looked around for support. ¡°Plus, don¡¯t you have your own group to worry about?¡± He turned back, a questing look in his eyes. ¡°The¡­Knights of Sol, weren¡¯t they? Where are they now?¡±

    Sol flinched, his eyes trailing to the ground. Hunter leaned in and whispered something in his ear and Sol nodded softly. At his side, Terraform glared at Rupert, his aura stirring noticeably.

    Terry wondered how the man could be so bold in the face of two S-rankers. But though there were grumbles from some members of the crowd, he couldn¡¯t help but notice more than a few were nodding along.

    Terraform opened his mouth to respond, a mask of fury on his face. But Sol¡¯s hand stopped him, his eyes lifting to meet Terraform¡¯s gaze. The leader of the Market nodded and stepped back.

    Sol slowly turned his eyes back toward Rupert, and Terry felt the crowd stir as golden magic swirled in his pupils.

    ¡°What is your name?¡± Sol¡¯s voice was soft, but carried a deadly edge to it that formed goosebumps on Terry¡¯s skin.

    To Rupert¡¯s credit, he didn¡¯t back down in the face of Sol¡¯s obvious power, instead stepping forward to break free from his group.

    ¡°Rupert Olivier. A-ranked Duelist.¡±

    Terry felt a shiver trace up his spine. An A-ranked Duelist was a threat¡ªeven to S-rankers. The sheer speed and strength they could potentially bring to bear was not something to be taken lightly.

    Not that Terry would have given the man one chance in a hundred against someone of Sol¡¯s caliber any other time. But the mental struggles he¡¯d seen in the S-ranker back in Topeka did make him worry. Not that there would be a brawl right here and now, but more so that there could be a power struggle once they were gone from Terraform¡¯s protection.

    Enough A-rankers backing Rupert could spell disaster for the convoy.

    To Sol¡¯s credit, he didn¡¯t give an inch and Terry wouldn¡¯t had known there were cracks in the facade just from looking at the man.

    ¡°The Knights of Sol are dead.¡± His eyes seemed to burrow into Rupert, flashing golden like miniature suns. ¡°But I owe Terraform a debt and he has asked me to see you all to safety.¡± Then, he smiled and shrugged. ¡°Though, if you don¡¯t want my assistance, I¡¯ll simply stand back and let¡­¡± He clicked his tongue. ¡°What was your name again?¡±

    Rupert sniffed, crossing his arms. ¡°Rupert Olivier.¡±

    Sol chuckled in a self-deprecating manner.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Mr. Olivier seems up to the task, doesn¡¯t he?¡± The light in the room suddenly dimmed, darkness spreading from the edges until the entire crowd was shrouded. Only Rupert remained illuminated, a large spotlight shining down on him. ¡°He can defend you all should Qui Shen¡¯s agents attack your convoy.¡±

    A panicked voice called out through the dark. ¡°Help us, Sol!¡±

    Another joined in. ¡°Lead us!¡±

    A flurry of voices cried out then, layering over each other until the words were indistinguishable.

    The dark receded, the spotlight diffusing until the room was illuminated like nothing had happened.

    And there stood Sol, a friendly smile on his face.

    ¡°Well¡­if you insist.¡±

    The crowd slowly settled, though there were quiet murmurings all around. Rupert stood stock still, his face stoic though his eyes burned as they stared at Sol and Terraform.

    A flash of red on the map behind Terraform drew Terry¡¯s eye, just as Terraform himself cried out. The room shuddered as an explosion went off somewhere in the Market. Shouts of panic filled the room, but were quickly silenced as Louisa¡¯s aura cut across the crowd.

    ¡°The evacuation begins now!¡± Terraform called out. The wall looking over the Pit melted away, revealing hundreds of people milling about on a large stone platform that hadn¡¯t been there before.

    Had Terraform been coordinating all of the citizens into position even while hosting this meeting?

    A glass bridge formed from the office floor, reaching out over the Pit to connect to the large stone platform.

    ¡°Get moving!¡± Louisa yelled and the crowd was quick to obey.

    Terry and Tania were near the back of the office and so were one of the first people to step onto the bridge. They ran down toward the stone platform, but Terry nearly stumbled as something rushed past him.

    He caught himself from tipping over the bridge edge with Tania¡¯s help, then scanned ahead to see what had nearly sent him into the Pit.

    Rupert was among the crowd waiting on the stone platform, weaving between the hundreds of people until he settled somewhere in the middle.

    ¡°That son of a bitch nearly killed you,¡± Tania muttered, casting daggers after the man. ¡°Sol should just melt the bastard and be done with him.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t find a reason to disagree.

    Now that he wasn¡¯t distracted by the tension of Sol¡¯s standoff with Rupert, he could feel the portals Marlon was activating throughout the Market. He knew they were Marlon¡¯s because he felt the man¡¯s aura reaching out, touching space with a familiar, deft hand.

    They snapped into place on the large stone platform and people surged from them. If Terry had to guess, these were the citizens who had been hiding inside the shelters.

    ¡°Can¡¯t the Traveler just send us to safety!¡± someone cried nearby.

    ¡°He¡¯s only a D-ranker,¡± another answered. ¡°Plus, send us where? Into the stone?¡±

    Terry was distracted from the surrounding panicked conversation by a notification.

    Marlon Ockers has accepted your chat request.

    <blockquote>

    [Marlon]: Terry, no time. Getting overwhelmed.

    </blockquote>

    The platform shifted, causing the crowd of people to cry out. Tania stumbled at Terry¡¯s side and they steadied each other.

    In the distance, he spotted Katie, Peter, Alan, and Tristan appear through a nearby portal.

    <blockquote>

    [Marlon]: Take my cats. Please.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What are you saying, Marlon? Come with us!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Marlon]: This is my home. Ain¡¯t leaving.

    </blockquote>

    Terry growled in frustration. Tania, who had been waving over the others, looked at him with confusion.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Marlon¡¯s staying behind. Some bullshit about not leaving his home.¡±

    Tania furled her brow. ¡°The Traveler?¡±

    He gave a distracted nod, then reached across space. Marlon¡¯s presence touched his but he could sense the man¡¯s distraction.

    Terry forced his aura into Marlon¡¯s shop and a portal whooshed into existence before him. He stepped through a moment later.

    Tania called after him, but he snapped it shut before she could follow.

    Marlon wasn¡¯t in his usual spot by the pottery wheel, but Terry saw him over the toppled shelves near the front of the shop.

    ¡°What are you doing, boy!¡± he barked, whirling around in a rage. ¡°Get back to the¡ª¡±

    He cut off as Terry felt another dozen intrusions fight to penetrate Market space. This time, Terry reached out with his own senses, adding his aura to Marlon¡¯s as they worked together to force the forming portals shut.

    When the threat had passed, Marlon stomped toward him, crashing through the shelves and broken pottery as if they weren¡¯t there. His face was beet red, his large bulk suddenly intimidating as the man charged toward Terry. Marlon loomed over him with wild eyes.

    ¡°Get out of here!¡±

    Terry had never seen the man so angry and he had to take a steadying breath to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest.

    ¡°Come with us, then!¡± he shouted back. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you here to die!¡±

    Marlon¡¯s chest heaved, his eyes boring into Terry as if he could break Terry¡¯s resolve by sheer force of will. After a tense moment, the anger melted away, Marlon¡¯s shoulders sagging in defeat.

    ¡°I can¡¯t, Terry. Don¡¯t you see? I¡¯m the only thing keeping Skipper in check. If I left with the rest of the evacuation, they¡¯d be inside the Market in minutes. And if I continued to stall the prick while we evacuated, he¡¯d narrow down our position and follow us.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Terry whispered. He knew what the man was saying. He just didn¡¯t want to believe it.

    Marlon sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°I can stall Skipper out while Terraform takes the fight to them. Our lives will buy you the hours you need to get a head start.¡±

    His throat tightened, tears forming against his control.

    ¡°Come away with us, Marlon.¡± His voice cracked, but he didn¡¯t care. ¡°We can fight him together. If we pool our power¡ª¡±

    Marlon shook his head and Terry felt his aura stir.

    ¡°You¡¯ll just get in my way.¡±

    Two dozen portals popped into existence around them, pulling his cats through. Terry felt them deposited on the stone platform, near where he had left Tania.

    One more portal formed, this one pulling on Terry.

    ¡°Marlon,¡± Terry cried. ¡°I can help!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± the man whispered, his voice tight. ¡°Take care of my babies.¡±

    Terry fought against the man¡¯s aura, struggling to reject the pull as Marlon had once told him was possible. But as he began to force himself away from the portal trying to suck him through, another formed behind him with no warning.

    Tears dripped down Marlon¡¯s face as he shoved Terry through.

    There was a disorienting moment as he traveled through sub-space, then he landed on his butt back on the stone platform where he¡¯d left Tania.

    She was by his side in an instant, checking on him, but all he could do was stir his aura to reopen a portal back to Marlon.

    I¡¯ll force the bastard to follow us!

    But his every attempt to cut through space was smashed before it could even materialize. No matter how hard he tried, Marlon shut down his portals with brutal efficiency and supreme control.

    After a minute of futility, Terry sagged in Tania¡¯s arms, an involuntary sob shaking his body.

    All around him, cats roamed, distraught, meowing for their master.

 B2 - Chapter 11: The Broken Pottery Club

    The platform shuddered violently, pulling Terry from his melancholy. He glanced up to see Terraform on a second platform made of pure glass, rising high above the Pit. There were a handful of others with Terraform, among them Katie¡¯s grandmother and Madame Juliette. The sight tightened his chest, but he forced himself to stand, wiping his face as he looked toward Katie. Her eyes tracked Terraform¡¯s platform, her own tears slipping down her cheeks.

    Tania, who had been watching Terry, followed his gaze and realized the gravity of the scene. Katie¡¯s grandmother was among those giving their lives to slow Qui Shen and Skipper. The understanding flickered in Tania¡¯s widened eyes before settling into a pained acceptance. Terry left the dozens of cats to their own devices and walked over to Katie and the others. Peter had wrapped his long arms around her, holding her tight against his chest as she sobbed, her body shaking with grief. Terry and Tania watched, feeling the helplessness gnaw at them, unable to soothe the raw pain Katie was feeling.

    All around them, cries of surprise and panic rang out as Terraform¡¯s platform rose up to the ceiling of the Pit and disappeared through the stone. Movement caught Terry¡¯s eye, and he glanced over to see Sol flying through the air, his form almost ethereal, a beacon of hope approaching the large evacuation platform. Shining like a Greek god, he floated above them, his voice ringing out, amplified by his powerful S-ranker physique.

    ¡°Everyone remain calm. Terraform and those few brave souls joining him will be able to delay Qui Shen while we make for the surface.¡± Sol''s voice was a soothing balm amidst the chaos, calming the frayed nerves of the frightened masses.

    Sol¡¯s flight took him to the middle of the platform, his feet alighting gently. He was instantly swarmed by dozens of people, each shouting, clamoring over each other for assurances. His presence was a lighthouse in the storm, drawing everyone toward him, offering a semblance of security in the frantic turmoil.

    Terry felt their platform shudder as Terraform¡¯s power dissipated. A moment later, he felt the pull of half a dozen different auras working in tandem as they took over the platform¡¯s movement. They moved at a noticeably slower pace than when Vlad had shipped their small group to and from the Market, but that was to be expected.

    The others consoled Katie as she came to terms with her grandmother¡¯s sacrifice, and at some point, her mother had come over and pulled Katie away to be with the family. Terry put a comforting hand on Katie''s shoulder as she passed, offering a small, sad smile that couldn''t quite reach his eyes.

    With nothing to do but wait, the others talked in low tones, their voices blending into a murmured hum of anxiety and hope. Terry went back to check on Marlon¡¯s cats, a bittersweet distraction amidst the tension. As he scanned around the large stone platform, he noticed System tags moving about at ankle height. Marlon must have flipped their auras in that particular way he had done with Marmalade. It was easy enough to track the cats with those System tags, but nearly impossible to gather them up. He had no way to corral them, and any attempts to chase them down only led to them fleeing or, in Marmalade¡¯s case, teleporting away. Whenever that particular cat used its incredible power, Terry felt a slight pull on Marlon¡¯s aura, a thin thread of connection that tugged at his scattered focus.

    When it became clear that gathering the cats was an impossible task, he turned his attention back to the intrusions of space flashing all around the Market. As the platform neared the edge of the Pit, preparing to enter the stone, Terry felt the intensity and the quantity of the intrusions increase. Marlon continued to snuff them out before they could form into portals, but Terry could sense that it was only a matter of time before Skipper overwhelmed him with sheer power.

    Terry just hoped that Terraform and his small assault group could intercept Qui Shen before that moment. He clenched his fists, feeling the bite of his fingernails into the skin of his palm¡ªa grounding sensation in the swirl of anxiety.

    The platform jerked again, but this time steadied as it entered the stone, the comforting embrace of the earthen walls providing a brief respite. Terry watched as Katie and her family huddled together, drawing strength from one another. Meanwhile, Sol moved among the evacuees, offering reassurances and plans, his power lighting up the space with a difussed glow.

    As the platform continued its ascent, the Market below began to fade from sight, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Terry felt a tumult of emotions¡ªpride for the bravery and solidarity of the evacuees and deep sorrow for those gone to fight. They were not all warriors, but this exodus was their fight, their effort to survive.

    Katie¡¯s soft sobs had subsided into silent tears, her mother holding her close, both drawing strength from their shared grief. Peter, Tania, Tristan, Alan, and the other evacuees watched the dimming lights of the Market with expressions of hope mixed with fear. Each face was marked by their resilience, a silent promise to push forward, persevere.

    The platform shuddered slightly as it moved through the stone, the low hum of magic and power reverberating through the air. The evacuees huddled closer together, an unspoken unity strengthening their resolve. Sol¡¯s presence among them, calming and reassuring, acted like a beacon, keeping fear at bay.

    Terry took a deep breath, allowing the gravity of their situation to settle in his bones. The Market natives had left behind everything they knew, carrying only memories and hopes. But sometimes, Terry thought, that was enough. They would reach the surface, build anew, and find a way to honor the sacrifices made by Terraform, Katie¡¯s grandmother¡­Marlon.

    As the platform ascended steadily, Terry glanced back one last time, his heart heavy with the weight of what they had been forced to leave behind. They were fleeing, but with each second they survived, they carried forward the resolve of those who stayed behind. Whatever lay ahead, that resolve would guide them through.

    <hr>

    A dozen probing attacks impeded on Marlon¡¯s attention, but he shut them down absentmindedly; Skipper had always been an aura brute, all power, no finesse. And Marlon was working within a mile radius, while Skipper was over a hundred miles away.

    But Marlon was under no delusions¡ªwhen Skipper got close enough, brute force would be more than enough to penetrate Market space. The thought made him grit his teeth. Skipper might be an aura brute, but he was a dangerous one, and Marlon had to respect the threat he posed.

    Which was why Terraform wasn¡¯t relying upon Marlon¡¯s skill forever.

    The man himself appeared at the alley mouth, four familiar faces trailing behind him.

    Hunter Sheffield stood at Terraform¡¯s shoulder, a silent sentinel. Marlon recognized the man from when he¡¯d first arrived in the Market twenty plus years back. He¡¯d been a freshly Awakened Hypnotist, wet behind the ears and eager to help others.

    Marlon had rolled his eyes at his bold proclamations, but had since redefined his opinion of the man. Those dreams had matured into a steely resolve grafted by years of hard work.

    On Terraform¡¯s other side, Louisa Vasquez¡¯s sharp gaze swept through the shop, her scowl deepening at the sight of disarray. Marlon knew better than to scowl back¡ªshe¡¯d just use it as fuel for her disdain, feeding off any sign of defiance. And though her back was bent and her skin wrinkled, the sense of her power was undiminished.

    Behind Louisa stood Juliette Romero, a young woman when he¡¯d first arrived in the Market¡ªnow, a respected elder and the woman responsible for Awakening half the Market natives. She still seemed to shrink under Louisa¡¯s shadow, but Marlon couldn¡¯t blame her¡ªit was a mighty large shadow to be cast by such a small woman.

    And behind Hunter stood Marcus Gasly, an A-ranked Amplifier. Marlon didn¡¯t know much about the man¡ªhe was quiet and unassuming, which Marlon appreciated. But he could feel the man¡¯s aura and it was dense.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Finally, there was Terraform himself. The S-ranked Elementalist was a titanic presence, eclipsing the aura of the other four without even trying. But to Marlon¡¯s senses, it wasn¡¯t just the sheer power and depth of his aura that was staggering; it webbed outward from the man like a spider¡¯s web, latching onto a million touchpoints around the Market and deeper still. There were so many strands of power trailing off Terraform that it appeared the man was the center of a rising star and the tendrils were the rays shining outward.

    But just as the lines of power emanating from the man spoke to a monolith of strength, so too did the lines etched around his eyes hint at the sleepless nights and the heavy weight of countless decisions.

    Anyways, that¡¯s what he signed up for when he formed his little rogue city, Marlon thought with a grimace. He waved them onward with a grunt.

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t linger in the alley. We¡¯ve got things to do.¡±

    He turned and stomped over the broken pottery and shelving, pulling six wicker chairs through space and depositing them on clear ground in a circle. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he let his heavy bulk sink into his favorite chair, as if grounding his resolve.

    As they entered the shop, he watched them pick their way through the debris in various manners.

    Terraform simply followed after Marlon, his boots crunching through without a care in the world.

    Hunter quietly mirrored Terraform¡¯s steps, a shadowed echo as always, his eyes scanning the room with intensity, as if expecting Qui Shen himself to pop out from Marlon¡¯s closet.

    Louisa coalesced the aura around her, lifting herself off the ground through sheer power. Manifesting aura physically was the work of a master and he suspected she was showing off with the casual display, but he didn¡¯t let any surprise show; her head was big enough already. As she floated, she flicked off invisible dust particles from her sleeve¡ªan unconscious assertion of control.

    Behind her, Juliette¡¯s eyes darted to Louisa in obvious admiration before she began picking a clear path through the shop, tiptoeing lightly on top of the debris when it was clear there was no other way through.

    Marcus lingered by the doorway, his presence a steady anchor amidst the others¡¯ turbulence. His quiet demeanor belied the dense, formidable aura he wielded without fanfare. He stepped forward with a calculating look, judging each step carefully before fully committing.

    When the group finally made their way across the pottery minefield and into the wicker chairs, Terraform scanned them all for a moment, letting the tension in the air build. After a moment, he broke the silence with a slight uptick at the corner of his mouth.

    ¡°And so commences the first¡ªand most likely last¡ªgathering of the Broken Pottery Club.¡±

    Light laughter echoed out from the group, but Marlon was distracted by more incursion attempts. So instead, he simply scowled as he forced Skipper¡¯s portals shut.

    As they settled back into a tense silence, Terraform slumped into his chair, the slack in his shoulders betraying the immense pressure he felt. But in the next moment, he straightened, his eyes suddenly burning with determination.

    ¡°This moment most likely marks the death of the Market as we know it. Some of you have been here since its inception.¡± He looked to Louisa and Juliette. ¡°While some of you found your way here under one circumstance or another.¡± His powerful gaze regarded Hunter and Marcus, then lingered on Marlon.

    Marlon pursed his lips in annoyance, but resisted the urge to tell the man to get on with it.

    ¡°Whatever your reasons, you¡¯re here now. I¡¯ve discussed this with you all individually, but I want to reiterate one more time: we are unlikely to return from this mission.¡± The aura in the room stirred at that¡ªnot with fear, but steady determination. ¡°But know that our sacrifice could very well mean the difference between our loved ones reaching the surface¡­or being incinerated by that monster.

    ¡°Which brings me to the even worse news.¡± His expression hardened, magic burning in his eyes. ¡°There is a traitor among the refugees feeding information to Qui Shen.¡±

    Juliette¡¯s gasp cut through the air like a knife, sharp and sudden. Marcus¡¯ eyes widened, deep furrows appearing on his forehead. Louisa remained unmoved, but her knuckles turned white as she clenched her skirt.

    Only Hunter seemed unsurprised by the news¡ªtypical of the mind readers to know things before everyone else.

    Not that Marlon himself was that taken aback. In a group of thousands, the chances of a sellout coward were greater than not.

    A moment of stunned silence followed. Then, Juliette broke it.

    ¡°Do-do we know who¡ª?¡±

    She cut off as Terraform shook his head.

    ¡°We know it¡¯s someone who was present during the evacuation debrief. Shortly after I informed them of our intention to intercept Qui Shen, I felt their forces divert. The timing was too coincidental.¡±

    ¡°Rupert?¡± Marcus asked quietly.

    Terraform hesitated before answering. ¡°I can¡¯t be certain. I¡¯ve informed Sol, but Hunter wasn¡¯t able to get a read on Rupert. Sol¡¯s on guard and should be able to handle him¡ªor whoever the traitor is.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s even one person,¡± Louisa added with a grunt.

    Terraform nodded sadly. ¡°Even so, there¡¯s no way to contain prisoners while they evacuate and we couldn¡¯t bring them with us.¡±

    Marlon scoffed¡ªwhich he immediately regretted, because all eyes cut toward him suddenly.

    ¡°Coulda just executed him and been done with it,¡± he said with a shrug.

    Everyone was thinking it anyway, right?

    Terraform blinked, his jaw tightening, his voice soft. ¡°You know that¡¯s not how I operate, Marlon.¡±

    Marlon waved away the reply. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just thinking out loud.¡±

    Terraform pursed his lips with displeasure before continuing.

    ¡°Regardless, what¡¯s done is done. Now, the next item of business. I passed the Singularity to Sol. His primary mission is to get the civilians to safety but should that become impossible¡­his priority will be to keep the Singularity from Qui Shen.¡± Terraform¡¯s eyes burned as they cut across the room, lingering lastly on Louisa, whose entire family was among the evacuees. ¡°By any means necessary.¡±

    She stared back, her face hardened, cut from granite. After a moment, she nodded subtly.

    Marcus lightly cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him. His voice was low, but steady.

    ¡°Can we trust him to do what needs to be done?¡± He looked around in question. ¡°He put on a strong front, but I sensed his turmoil. And if I did, so did others.¡±

    Terraform nodded, looking to Hunter expectantly.

    The Hypnotist folded his hands in his lap, a thoughtful expression on his face. Marlon thought it a pretty simple question with a pretty simple answer. But he had never known Hunter to answer a question without careful consideration.

    ¡°His imprisonment with the Fairways has had a significant psychological toll on him. Coupled with the death of his team¡­much of his identity has been called into question. In my opinion, adopting a leadership role, being responsible for the wellbeing of others¡­it¡¯s a risk. It could help him heal or it could break him down even further.¡±

    ¡°That was a long-winded way of saying you¡¯re not sure,¡± Louisa growled, her lips curling into an unimpressed sneer. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as though daring anyone to challenge her assertion.

    Marlon couldn¡¯t help but agree with the surly old bat. She had a way of cutting through the fluff with brutal efficiency, a quality he grudgingly respected.

    Hunter nodded in an understanding way, which made Marlon¡¯s nose furl in irritation. The Hypnotist¡¯s unflappable patience irked him, especially in the face of what awaited them.

    ¡°Even with my magic, the human psyche is a complicated machine. I can only speculate¡­and hope.¡± Hunter¡¯s voice softened at the last word, a glimmer of empathy shining through his otherwise clinical demeanor. His thoughtful expression turned inward, as though wrestling with the complexities of the mind.

    An unsteady silence consumed the group for a few moments, each member lost in their thoughts. Juliette¡¯s fingers twitched nervously, her eyes clouded with concern. Marcus remained stoic, yet the tension in his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. Louisa¡¯s gaze was sharp and probing, and Marlon could see her mind working behind those piercing eyes.

    Then, Terraform spoke, his powerful voice cutting through the silence and filling Marlon¡¯s tiny shop with an undeniable presence. ¡°We made a show of rising to meet Qui Shen. All of the Market saw us leave. Which means Qui Shen and Skipper will still be expecting us to intercept them through the earth.¡± He paused, looking them each in the eye, his confidence projecting through his gaze like a stabilizing force in the storm of uncertainty, drawing strength from their shared resolve.

    ¡°Which was why they¡¯ll be surprised when we ambush them through one of Marlon¡¯s portals.¡± Terraform¡¯s lips curled into a knowing smile, a hint of defiance glowing in his eyes. The plan was reckless, unpredictable, and entirely theirs.

    Marlon straightened in his chair, the weight in his chest lifting slightly. He caught Terraform¡¯s eye and gave him a nod, acknowledging the man¡¯s steady presence. Juliette¡¯s lips trembled into a faint smile, a spark of hope igniting in her eyes. Even Louisa¡¯s stern expression softened by a fraction, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes they faced together.

    ¡°Let¡¯s give them hell,¡± Marcus muttered, his voice quiet but resolute. It wasn¡¯t just a statement; it was a promise, a battle cry.

    The group shifted, a renewed energy crackling in the air. They were a ragtag assembly of misfits and outcasts, but in that moment, they were united by purpose. The weight of impending doom still hung over them, but now it shared space with something stronger¡ªdetermination.

    Terraform rose, his aura blazing like a star ready to go supernova. ¡°For the Market,¡± he declared.

    ¡°For the Market,¡± they echoed, the words resonating with a fierce, unyielding spirit. Even Marlon felt himself pulled along by the sheer magnetism of their leader, the words leaving his mouth of their own accord.

    And with that, the first¡ªand most likely last¡ªgathering of the Broken Pottery Club prepared to face their fate, ready to strike back against despair with all the courage and hope and trickery they had left.

 B2 - Chapter 12: Leaving the House

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, they¡¯ve shifted eight degrees that way!¡±

    The Elementalist gritted his teeth, reaching out with his aura once more to confirm. After a moment, he turned back with a smug expression that wasn¡¯t entirely unwarranted¡ªBloodhound had been pestering him for the better part of an hour.

    ¡°Sir, I understand you have powers beyond me. I¡¯m under no delusions on that front. But I know stone and this is the path they took¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡±

    Lady released her grip on his shoulder and the man shuddered as the wellspring of power was withdrawn. He looked toward her, just barely managing to keep the pleading expression off his face.

    Everything about her was intoxicating, her hair the color of sunlight, her clothes skintight yet elegant¡ªeven though he preferred the other sex, even he could appreciate her refined beauty.

    But what drew him in more than anything, was the power she imparted. When she touched him, amplified his power with her Skills, he felt like a god of the earth. The stone spoke to him, revealed its secrets like pillow talk among spent lovers. When she pulled away, he had to resist the urge to physically grab her hand¡ªjust for another glimpse into divinity.

    Then, she snapped her fingers imperiously and the spell was broken. Now, all he saw was a spoiled brat, used to getting her way with her looks and haughty attitude. The allure cracked, faded, then drained away entirely.

    ¡°Do another scrying,¡± she whined. ¡°I¡¯m sick of your bickering.¡±

    Bloodhound furled his nose, as if catching a bad smell. Then he closed his eyes. The Elementalist felt aura shift around the man. He didn¡¯t have the skill or perception to trace the flow, but it was obvious the man was doing another scrying¡ªor whatever Seers did.

    The Elementalist released his grip on the surrounding stone¡ªnow that Lady wasn¡¯t amplifying him, he didn¡¯t have the power to shift it¡ªand took the moment to himself.

    He¡¯d been going nonstop for hours and even with a high-ranking Amplifier juicing him up, it was mentally exhausting work.

    Across the small tunnel they were perched in, Tinker stirred inside his power armor. He hadn¡¯t spoken or moved in two hours, presumably working on some project internally¡ªor just taking a nap.

    But he rose to his feet with a mechanical whir, his fury somehow obvious in the lilt of his posture despite the blank-faced power armor hiding his face.

    ¡°Frank, why have we stopped!¡±

    The Elementalist flinched, then cast a pleading look toward Lady.

    You explain it, princess.

    She sighed, striding toward Tinker with a swaying of hips. Somehow, Frank didn¡¯t imagine the sashay had much effect on the Artificer. Boys and their toys seemed to sum up the Council super quite accurately. If her feminine charm did have any grip on the man, his power armor hid it.

    ¡°Tink, darling, our compatriots are feuding.¡± She looked over to Frank and narrowed her eyes, obviously at a loss for a moment. On a hunch, he activated his System tag, flashing his name for a brief moment. Her surprise registered for only a glimpse before she continued on seamlessly, as if she had never needed the reminder. ¡°Frank here is following the trail their Elementalist took. While our dear Bloodhound senses them in a slightly different direction.¡±

    Tinker eyed the two of them for a moment, his blank metal face turning to Frank, then back to Bloodhound.

    ¡°What do you see, Ryan?¡±

    Bloodhound held up a finger, his eyes closed. Frank tried to open his senses wider to get a glimpse at what the man was doing, but he was only a D-ranker and had never truly applied himself, if he were being honest. Had no interest in being a¡­superhero. Only reason he was here was the Council paid well and on time.

    A couple seconds passed and Frank shifted awkwardly. Why had he even bothered arguing with the man? What did he care?

    When Bloodhound finally opened his eyes, red fire swirled in his eyes. Those red eyes turned toward Frank and he felt his heart clench involuntarily, like he was staring into the mouth of a tiger. But they shifted away a moment later and he sucked in a deep breath.

    ¡°Frank is correct, they took this path on their way down.¡± Lady¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise and Frank couldn¡¯t help but feel his own thoughts echoing that expression. An A-ranker willing to eat crow? That was a first. ¡°I¡¯d wager they¡¯re on their way back to the surface, taking a slightly altered path,¡± Bloodhound continued. ¡°If we divert, we should intercept in a couple hours.¡±

    Tinker nodded, his armor shifting back into a dormant stance.

    His mechanical voice echoed out. ¡°Do it.¡±

    Frank shrugged, realizing he didn¡¯t care one way or the other.

    Just collect that paycheck and get home to Collin. Leave the specifics to the S- and A-rankers.

    A few seconds passed before he realized Bloodhound, Lady, and the fireteam idly playing cards in the corner were all staring toward him. He flinched under their collective gazes, turning back to his task.

    As he stirred his aura, he realized what he was missing. He cast a pleading glance over his shoulder.

    ¡°Uh¡­would you mind?¡±

    Lady sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she strode over. She placed a hand on his shoulder¡ªalmost reluctantly, as if touching him would lessen her in some way.

    Turning back so that none of them could see him, he did his own eye roll, then stirred his magic.

    I need a vacation¡­

    <hr>

    The evacuees settled into a placid sort of panic. There was palpable tension in the air, reflected in the quiet but insistent murmurs infecting the large group. But everyone kept their voices low, almost as if Qui Shen himself might hear them.

    Sol ranged amongst the group numbering in the thousands, radiating a soft glow¡ªperhaps unconsciously. Like moths to the flame, he drew attention wherever he roamed, speaking soft but confident words wherever he was met with panic.

    As Terraform¡¯s group of apprentices ferried the large stone platform through the earth, the realization began to settle in that there was nothing to be done but hurry up and wait. Terry had given up on trying to corral Marlon¡¯s cats and instead turned his attention to the aura snapshot he had taken of Marmalade.

    It was the first time he was truly utilizing a snapshot and the difference between it and a living being¡¯s aura were subtle but noticeable.

    Or maybe the difference was that this was a cat¡¯s aura¡­

    Either way, he dove into the snapshot, working to catalog it as if it were a living aura.

    At first, it appeared relatively mundane. There was nothing specific about the snapshot that drew his eye and it had significantly less complexity than an E-ranked Skill¡¯s mold, let alone a D-ranked mold.

    But after staring at it¡ªwith both his eyes and his senses¡ªlong enough to go cross-eyed, he recognized something that pulled at his intuition. Unlike when he was cataloging a person¡¯s aura while they engaged a Skill, the snapshot seemed dormant¡ªalmost inert.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    And that¡¯s exactly what it was!

    The snapshot was inert, because Marmalade hadn¡¯t been actively engaging in a Skill when he¡¯d taken the snapshot. He needed an active example¡­and he knew exactly how to get that.

    Climbing to his feet, he began scanning around the crowd for a specific four-legged specimen. The cats had initially scattered upon their arrival and Terry¡¯s rough attempts to capture them had only spread them out wider. But as it became clear there was nowhere for them to flee, they¡¯d slowly began to congregate together in the same general vicinity.

    As he spotted the diffuse gathering of cats, he activated Master of Light and went nearly invisible¡ªonly his eyes were unaffected so that he could still see.

    A small child audibly gasped as he disappeared, pulling on her mother¡¯s clothes insistently. But her cries of alarm were quickly shushed and the poor girl resigned herself to being dismissed, even as her gaze tracked wide to find the invisible man.

    He chuckled quietly to himself, stepping lightly as he approached. Cats were strange in what they seemed to pick up on. Sometimes, they had a preternatural sense of danger in their surroundings. Other times, they were shocked by their own reflection.

    So Terry pulled his aura in, tiptoeing his way into range of Marmalade, who lounged near the middle of the pack like a king lion among his pride. Slowly, carefully, he stepped between the outer circle of cats, his shoes crunching ever so lightly against the loose stone of the platform.

    He was only a few steps from Marmalade, when a nearby cat perked up, then began hissing in his direction. Marmalade also shot up and Terry frantically readied his Skill. As he released his invisibility, the entire herd of cats burst into frenzied panic, launching in every direction of the compass in a scramble so coordinated in its chaos that it almost seemed preplanned.

    But only one of the cats had the ability to teleport.

    As Marmalade¡¯s aura activated, tracing back to Marlon deep through the earth, Terry also activated his aura, timing it perfectly.

    The cat disappeared in a flash, but Terry didn¡¯t mind. He¡¯d gotten what he needed. He let Master of Light go and pulled up the aura snapshots.

    As he sat down in place to begin studying, he noticed a couple dirty looks from the nearby folks who had been startled by the cat stampede. His shoulders shot up to his ears as he cringed.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he mouthed, holding a hand up.

    When it seemed he had mostly shed the heat of what must have appeared to be a juvenile prank, he turned his attention back to the molds.

    He was able to summon them from his mind, as if projecting them before him holographically. They shifted and turned with mental cues, allowing him to match them up based on orientation.

    Right away, he recognized a noticeable difference between the two and he smiled, pleased that his hunch had been rewarded.

    But the two molds alone didn¡¯t give him much to go off, unless he started manipulating his own aura from scratch until he found the triggers. So he pulled up a third mold¡ªthat of his portal ability, the very Skill he had learned from Marlon. It stood to reason that if Marlon had injected a portal Skill into Marmalade¡¯s aura, then it was the same Skill he had taught Terry.

    Wielding the three separate molds in his mind, he began the tedious work of comparing them until he could map out all the anomalies.

    <hr>

    It was another hour before Marlon sensed Skipper within his reach. Another hour of constant attacks and intrusions into Market space. He wasn¡¯t drained per se¡ªhe still had the spatial advantage over Skipper given their relative proximities. But there was aura drain and then there was mental drain.

    And as much as he hated to admit it, he hadn¡¯t exercised that specific trait in many years.

    Still, it was a matter of pride¡ªperhaps pure stubbornness¡ªthat pushed him onward.

    I ain¡¯t letting that talentless hack beat me.

    When he finally felt Skipper close enough to strike back, he felt a renewed vigor take hold of him.

    ¡°They¡¯re in range,¡± he grunted, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tightening muscles. ¡°Tell me when.¡±

    The group had been engaged in quiet discussion out of earshot so as not to distract him. But at his words, all discussion cut off as the enormity of the situation took hold of them.

    Terraform stood up a bit straighter, his eyes as steady as the earth that he controlled.

    ¡°It¡¯s not too late for a change of heart.¡± Those eyes swept across the group, seeming to bore into each of them and all of them at the same time. ¡°Marlon can still send you ahead to join the evacuation group.¡±

    Louisa scoffed derisively, lifting her chin as if to look down upon the suggestion. Marcus simply straightened his posture, stirring his aura in preparation. Juliette took a step closer to her mentor, their auras mingling comfortably. Hunter didn¡¯t react at all, his eyes never leaving Terraform for a moment.

    And Marlon had turned away, ignoring the suggestion entirely. Not like he had anything better to do.

    A smile touched Terraform¡¯s lips at their reactions and a moment later, he chuckled dryly.

    ¡°Well, can¡¯t fault me for trying.¡±

    ¡°Sure I can,¡± Louisa groused. ¡°Ain¡¯t gettin¡¯ any younger over here. Let¡¯s go poke this bastard in the eye before I die of old age.¡±

    For once, Marlon agreed with the old grouch.

    Terraform nodded, then strode over to where Marlon sat.

    ¡°You ready, old friend?¡± he asked softly.

    Marlon sighed, feeling the weight suddenly intensify on his shoulders. With a grunt, he rose from the chair, the wicker groaning as if in relief.

    ¡°Been twenty years to prepare, I suppose,¡± he growled, though he couldn¡¯t muster the accompanying heat to his voice. ¡°Now¡¯s good a time as any.¡±

    Terraform met his eye, a deep power resting there, dormant, but slowly awakening, like a dragon stirred from slumber.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s begin.¡±

    Marlon split space quietly, returning his six wicker chairs to the closet, then crunched across the broken pottery toward the front of the shop.

    He lingered at the doorway, staring out at the alley that had been his constant view for twenty years.

    A notification pinged in his vision and he growled in annoyance.

    Midmark Quest Given: [Leave the Shop]

    Simply leave your shop.

    Reward: C-rank

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he muttered, waving away the message.

    Taking a steadying breath, he closed his eyes and stepped onto the cobblestone. Power engulfed him, wrapped him in a mother¡¯s embrace. He fought it at first on pure instinct. It simply held him tight, understanding, grace transmitted through that connection.

    After a moment, he let go, releasing his anger and bitterness and resistance.

    When he opened his eyes, he wasn¡¯t in his alley anymore.

    Tears pushed their way through as he took in the familiar living room. The coffee table they¡¯d picked out together, the rug Lily had stained the first day they¡¯d laid it out, the dining table tucked against the wall, the high chair beside it.

    And at the table, sat Marissa, a spoon airplaning its way toward Lily¡¯s mouth.

    He knew logically that this wasn¡¯t his family¡ªthey were long dead and no level of magic or eldritch fuckery could bring them back. But the animal side of his brain didn¡¯t care. Decades of repressed love¡ªemotions he thought he¡¯d killed but had apparently just buried deep¡ªfought past all his carefully constructed defenses.

    Time passed and he didn¡¯t dare move a muscle, infect the beautiful memory with his slovenly presence. Shame filled him then, knowing exactly what Marissa would have said if she¡¯d seen how he looked, how he lived.

    But then, she glanced up and her smile lit up the room, her eyes finding him, wrinkling at the edges with a love so pure he couldn¡¯t bear it.

    The image froze, a magical tableau locked in a single, beautiful moment. He cried ugly tears, feeling the weight of twenty years slough off his back like old skin.

    He wasn¡¯t aware how long he stood there, sobbing like a fool. But eventually, the heaviness of that past flowed beyond him, leaving him raw, but also healed.

    The thing behind him was like a beacon to his senses, but he was grateful it hadn¡¯t intruded upon the moment. Now, though, he finally turned to address it.

    ¡°Thank you for that.¡±

    He was surprised to find he meant it. It had been so long since he¡¯d felt gratitude that the feeling was almost as alien to him as the creature standing before him.

    ¡°I¡¯m just sorry I couldn¡¯t give you that sooner,¡± it replied.

    He nodded, turning his attention away from the family he¡¯d lost, focusing fully on his Waker.

    It assumed a blank, humanoid body¡ªit knew better than to pervert Marissa¡¯s memory by trying to mimic her. In contrast to its bland appearance though, was its towering presence. He remembered being in awe when he¡¯d Awakened, but had possessed no context. Its aura was big, that was all he knew.

    But he¡¯d grown up since then, witnessed titans of the earthly realm, seen power that could crater major cities. Terraform himself was a man closer to a god than a mortal.

    And yet, the Waker¡¯s presence was like a fixture of nature itself in comparison. Comparing it to Terraform was like comparing the sun to a light bulb. Even in his memories, he hadn¡¯t remembered it being so incomprehensibly vast.

    ¡°You¡¯re bigger than I remember,¡± he eventually said, a slight note of complaint in his voice.

    The Waker chuckled lightly, shrugging in a very human way.

    ¡°You too,¡± it replied wryly.

    Marlon gaped, his eyes widening in surprise.

    ¡°A fat joke¡­seriously?¡±

    ¡°Just trying to lighten the mood.¡±

    Its blank expression and deadpan delivery was so incongruous that he couldn¡¯t help but see the comedy in it all. He snorted humorously, shaking his head.

    ¡°What the hell are you?¡±

    The line of questioning might have seemed tangential to the creature, but if it was surprised, it didn¡¯t show it.

    ¡°I¡¯m the Weaver, Marlon. And I¡¯m one of the powers holding back the chaos that threatens this universe.¡±

    He might have scoffed at the grandiose declaration, but he felt its aura like a physical sensation, a gust of wind imparted with pure emotion and power. And its sincerity was impossible to dismiss.

    It took a step closer now, reaching out a hand for his shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s time you rejoined the fight, Marlon. Your world needs you.¡±

    Power infused his body and mind, sharp waves of pain and pleasure intermingling into a heady cocktail that made him woozy and disoriented.

    When it passed some unknown amount of time later, he opened his eyes, finding himself back in his alleyway.

    Notifications danced across his vision.

    Quest Complete: [Leave your Shop]

    C-rank achieved! Status Sheet updated!

 B2 - Chapter 13: Cat Whisperer

    Waves of power rolled into Marlon, drowning his senses, filling him until he felt fit to burst.

    He heard voices but the words wouldn¡¯t matriculate in his brain, dull sounds rather than coherent sentences.

    Space expanded before him like never before and though he didn¡¯t find latent secrets revealed by his rank up, his range did expand tenfold. All around him, he felt the planes of existence, layered like cloth, just waiting to be coaxed into various shapes and configurations.

    In the distance, he felt the modifications he¡¯d made to his cats¡ªthe subtle pull on his aura, the connection stretching taut, now given new life with his influx of power. He consoled himself with the knowledge that they were making good time and putting dozens of miles between them and the Market.

    If Qui Shen made it past them, the evacuation would be a hundred miles away and nearly impossible to pinpoint through the dense stone.

    Now, it was up to them to bloody the bastard¡¯s nose and if possible, end his existence forever.

    As he finally acclimated to his expanded senses, his mundane senses began to return to the forefront. The notifications in his vision pulled his attention first, but he dismissed them immediately; what use did he have for System-granted Skills or notifications about his Class? He was a Traveler still¡ªdidn¡¯t need no notification to know that. And every Skill he used, he did by feel¡ªnot the training wheels offered by his System.

    Next, he focused on the words that had sounded like they¡¯d traveled through water.

    ¡°Did it work?¡± a deep voice asked.

    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s back with us now.¡±

    Marcus and Juliette, he realized.

    He turned to face the five of them, forcing a scowl on his face out of habit more than anything else.

    ¡°Course I¡¯m back. Can¡¯t a man take a minute to acclimate?¡±

    Terraform stood apart, his eyes closed. At Marlon¡¯s words, his face etched with concern. He turned to the group, his voice grave.

    ¡°They¡¯ve split their forces. Qui Shen and Skipper are taking different paths.¡±

    The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling on everyone¡¯s shoulders. Marlon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while the others exchanged worried glances.

    Terraform paced, his mind racing. ¡°This confirms our suspicions. There¡¯s a traitor among the evacuees. How else would they know to split up?¡±

    Marcus stepped forward. ¡°What¡¯s our move, then?¡±

    Terraform hesitated, weighing their options. ¡°I believe Qui Shen is heading to intercept the evacuees. He must suspect the Singularity is with them. Skipper seems to be making for the Market itself with a smaller force.¡±

    He turned to face the group. ¡°We need to intercept Qui Shen.¡±

    Marcus frowned. ¡°What about Skipper? If we leave the Market unattended, he¡¯ll portal in, see it¡¯s been drained, and link up with Qui Shen.¡±

    Terraform¡¯s eyes flicked toward Marlon, who snorted, pushing off from the wall. ¡°I¡¯m staying obviously.¡±

    The room fell silent again, all eyes on the cantankerous man.

    ¡°I¡¯m just a decoy anyway,¡± Marlon continued. ¡°Who cares if they take the Market now? They already suspect the Singularity isn¡¯t here.¡±

    Terraform opened his mouth to argue, but Marlon cut him off.

    ¡°You need every chance you can get against Qui Shen. Don¡¯t waste time trying to save a doomed fool.¡±

    The others looked to Terraform, waiting for his decision. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he admitted reluctantly. ¡°We can¡¯t afford for Skipper to link up with Qui Shen.¡± He turned to Marlon. ¡°Are you sure about this? He won¡¯t be alone.¡±

    Marlon waved a dismissive hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Besides, someone¡¯s gotta make sure they don¡¯t get any bright ideas about following you lot.¡±

    Terraform nodded, a hint of admiration in his eyes. ¡°Good luck, Marlon. And... it¡¯s been an honor knowing you.¡±

    Marlon grunted, turning away to hide the flicker of emotion that crossed his face.

    Terraform addressed the group. ¡°We move now. Every second counts.¡±

    As the others filed out, Terraform paused at the door, looking back at Marlon. The man stood alone in his shop, surrounded by the detritus of his life¡¯s work. For a moment, Terraform saw not the gruff, irritable Traveler, but a man who had lost everything and was now preparing to make his last stand.

    ¡°Marlon,¡± Terraform said softly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this.¡±

    Marlon turned, a wry smile on his face. ¡°Course I do. Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to come with you after all.¡±

    Terraform nodded, a lump in his throat. He stepped out, closing the door behind him.

    Outside, the others waited. Marcus stood like a sentinel. Hunter¡¯s eyes darted about, always alert, always watching. Louisa¡¯s face was set in grim determination, while Juliette fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve.

    ¡°Everyone ready?¡± Terraform asked.

    They nodded, a unified front against the coming storm.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s move. We have a long way to go and not much time.¡±

    As they set off, Terraform couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were leaving Marlon to die. But there was no time for second thoughts. Qui Shen was out there, hunting their people, and they were the only ones who could stop him.

    Back in the shop, Marlon took a deep breath, centering himself. He could feel the tremors of Skipper¡¯s approach, the fabric of space twisting and warping. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his newly expanded senses, feeling the layers of reality around him.

    ¡°Alright, you bastard,¡± he muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    He began to weave his defenses, preparing for the battle to come. The air crackled with energy as he worked, bending space to his will. To his senses, it was clear the continuous attacks were getting stronger, Skipper coming closer with every second.

    Marlon opened his eyes, a fierce grin spreading across his face. For the first time in years, he felt truly alive. Whatever happened next, he was ready.

    <hr>

    Terry worked for nearly an hour before he had cataloged the differences between Marmalade¡¯s active and passive aura mold. But after the mind-numbing work he¡¯d done cataloging D-ranked Skills, this felt like light work.

    With that out of the way, he turned his attention to his portal mold and began comparing the delta between Marmalade¡¯s auras and his Skill. He didn¡¯t quite know what the end goal was; he couldn¡¯t exactly experiment on himself since he already had the portal mold Affixed to his aura and that sounded like a dangerous path to take regardless. Who knew what kind of damage he could end up doing? Yet he wasn¡¯t keen on the idea of animal experimentation. He didn¡¯t have years of experimenting on pottery like Marlon to vet his ideas.

    Inanimate objects it is.

    The silver bracelet he¡¯d received from his grandfather was a good candidate. He could already manipulate it with his telekinesis, so being able to portal them around without activating his own Skill would be useful. An idea tickled at him¡ªcreating kinetic-sensing shield walls by anchoring his metal telekinesis into steel plates. But that was ages away.

    For now, he would be content just to mimic Marmalade¡¯s portal ability.

    As he examined the delta in Marmalade¡¯s two auras, he found folds and nodules that appeared on the surface to match up with his portal mold. But they were intricate, weaving throughout the mold, challenging to hold the mental image in his mind.

    After a frustrating twenty minutes, he decided to just work live and see what happened. It wasn¡¯t a strategy that lent itself well to exactitude, but gave him a more freehanded approach that was more interesting and less mentally draining.

    Another ten minutes passed when his attention was pulled away by footsteps behind him. He didn¡¯t release the molds at first, then realized that whoever it was had come for him. Looking up, he spotted Tania staring down at him, a curious expression on her face.

    He realized that he hadn¡¯t checked on her since the initial evacuation, hadn¡¯t helped to acclimate her to her Awakening. Instead, he¡¯d thrown himself into distraction selfishly.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, feeling a bit chagrined.

    ¡°Wow. Is this what you¡¯ve been doing all that time with your mother¡¯s roses?¡±

    He was thrown off a bit by the oblique line of questioning, but she lowered herself into a cross-legged sit beside him, adopting an easy posture.

    ¡°Well, uh¡­yeah. Can you see what I¡¯m doing?¡±

    She squinted her eyes, looking him up and down.

    ¡°Not now¡ªI¡¯m guessing you stopped. But I did see something around your aura. Like you were moving pieces around or something.¡±

    He was surprised by that; she must have had advanced aura Attributes to be able to pick up on that at the F-rank. By all accounts, he¡¯d possessed unusually high ranks himself, and would have had trouble spotting the work he was doing.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that interesting,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Boring stuff, actually.¡±

    She scowled, looking around. ¡°What the hell else I¡¯m s¡¯pose to do? You forget, this aura business is new to me. Just¡ª¡± She bit her lip and he could tell there was something churning under the surface, but he couldn¡¯t quite read her expression. Shaking her head, she stood up. ¡°Nevermind.¡±

    He reached out, grabbing her hand lightly.

    ¡°Hey, I wasn¡¯t trying to get rid of you¡­¡± She hesitated, looking down at where his hand gripped hers. Realizing what he was doing, he let go in a rush. ¡°I-I¡¯ll tell you about it¡­if you want?¡±

    Her eyebrows rose, then a genuine smile touched her lips.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯d be nice.¡±

    As she sat back down, he began to explain all about his abilities, how he learned them, what he¡¯d been doing with Marlon the last few times he¡¯d visited.

    When he was done, she leaned back for a minute, processing it all.

    Then, a familiar look entered her eyes¡ªa look that had almost always spelled trouble for him in the past.

    ¡°Experiment on me,¡± she said softly.

    He shook his head, wondering if he¡¯d misheard her.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    She nodded rapidly. ¡°Yeah, experiment on me!¡±

    ¡°Tania¡­¡±

    ¡°Hear me out!¡± She stood up and started pacing. ¡°I¡¯m a Seer, right? I can sense things, feel when they¡¯ll go bad.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡±

    She whirled on him, her face pinched tight.

    ¡°I said hear me out!¡±

    She studied his face a moment, seeing if he¡¯d interrupt. He wanted to shut down this line of thinking; didn¡¯t feel remotely comfortable with the idea. But he also knew that Tania wasn¡¯t the type of person you said no to¡ªit only made her more likely to do something stupid.

    So he kept his lips shut, though he felt a bit of his annoyance translate to the slow blink of his eyes. She seemed to pick up on that annoyance, sucking at her teeth, the wind going out of her sails.

    ¡°I have a type of danger sense, Terry. I¡¯ll know if something you¡¯re about to do is gonna hurt me.¡±

    His ears perked up at that. ¡°Oh? That sounds pretty cool. Tell me about it.¡±

    She seemed to take that as him letting his guard down, her eyes going animated again. He quickly put his hands up.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying I¡¯m cool with messing with your aura. Just¡­I wanna hear about your new powers.¡±

    Despite putting the brakes on her, she seemed irrationally hopeful, plopping down into a seat as she spoke.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty sweet, actually. Not portal-sweet, but I can see it being useful in fights and stuff. Basically, I have a passive Skill that only works for me. It¡¯s strange but¡­here, let me just read the description to you.¡±

    Terry settled back, glad the topic had shifted to something a bit more comfortable.

    Her eyes went out of focus, like she was reading from her interface.

    ¡°Danger Sense ¡ª Personal. Passively scan the ebbs and flows of aura around you. Indicates when hostile attention is directed toward you or when life-threatening events will occur within your vicinity. Note: Aura can be obscured or unreadable, negating this Skill. This Skill will naturally rank up as your rank increases.¡± She looked up, waving away the message absentmindedly. ¡°Pretty neat, huh?¡±

    Terry nodded. It was pretty awesome.

    ¡°It ranks up with you, too? Nice.¡±

    ¡°Is that uncommon?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°I learned an Upgradeable Skill from Marlon, but Silver told me that¡¯s the sign of a master. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s normal, no.¡±

    She smiled, preening theatrically. ¡°Guess the¡ª¡± Her eyes went out of focus again and she scowled. System notification, presumably. ¡°The System knows a master when it sees one.¡±

    Terry scoffed. ¡°More like your System knew you were a master at getting into trouble. Knew you¡¯d need a master-level Skill to stay out of it.¡±

    She let out a snort of amusement and gave his arm a gentle smack. But her demeanor shifted almost immediately, taking on a solemn expression.

    ¡°My other Skill is interesting, too,¡± she said, voice low.

    ¡°Oh?¡± He was thrown by her tone. She almost sounded¡­embarrassed.

    Tania¡¯s gaze dropped to her hands, fidgeting in her lap. ¡°It¡¯s called Aura Entanglement. It¡¯s... different.¡±

    Terry leaned forward, intrigued by her sudden shift in demeanor. ¡°How so?¡±

    She took a deep breath. ¡°It lets me connect my aura to someone else¡¯s. Like, really connect. Across any distance.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°That sounds powerful. What exactly can you do with it?¡±

    ¡°Well, once I¡¯m entangled with someone, I always know if they¡¯re in trouble. I can feel glimpses of where they are, what they¡¯re feeling.¡± She paused, her voice dropping lower. ¡°It seems intense. Like¡­intrusive.¡±

    Terry whistled softly. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s... that¡¯s something else, Tania. Have you tried it yet?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°Not yet. Feels like I¡¯d be spying on someone.¡±

    Terry nodded, understanding her hesitation. ¡°Yeah, I can see how that¡¯d be a lot to handle.¡±

    Tania¡¯s eyes suddenly lit up, that familiar mischievous glint returning. ¡°But you know what? I just had an idea.¡±

    Terry groaned internally, knowing whatever was coming next would likely be trouble.

    ¡°What if we used it on one of Marlon¡¯s cats?¡± Tania suggested, her excitement building. ¡°That way, we could experiment with your anchoring ability without risking anyone getting hurt.¡±

    Terry blinked, surprised by the suggestion. It wasn¡¯t as reckless as he¡¯d feared. ¡°I¡¯m not sure...¡±

    ¡°Think about it,¡± Tania pressed on. ¡°You could try manipulating the cat¡¯s aura into the shape you saw in Marmalade¡¯s aura. If it works, we¡¯d know you can anchor abilities without hurting anyone.¡±

    Terry had to admit, the idea had merit. It was certainly safer than experimenting on a person. ¡°And if it does work?¡± he asked, already suspecting her answer.

    Tania¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°Then you try it on me.¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°Tania, that¡¯s way too risky. We don¡¯t know what could happen.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s where my Danger Sense comes in,¡± she countered. ¡°I¡¯ll know if something¡¯s about to go wrong. We¡¯ll have a safety net.¡±

    Terry mulled it over. The idea was tempting, but the potential consequences terrified him. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tania. It¡¯s one thing to experiment on a cat, but on you? That¡¯s a whole different level.¡±

    Tania reached out, placing her hand on his arm. ¡°Terry, think about what this could mean. If you can anchor abilities, you could help so many people. Maybe even find a way to protect us from Qui Shen and Skipper.¡±

    Her words hit home. Terry thought about Marlon, left behind to face those threats practically alone. If he could unlock this ability, maybe he could make a real difference.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said slowly. ¡°We can try it with one of the cats. But that¡¯s it for now. We¡¯ll see how that goes before even considering anything else.¡±

    Tania beamed, practically bouncing with excitement. ¡°Great! Which cat should we use?¡±

    Terry looked around at the felines lounging nearby. His eyes settled on a fluffy orange tabby. ¡°That one. It reminds me of Marmalade.¡±

    Tania nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating. After a moment, she opened them, a look of wonder on her face. ¡°It¡¯s done. I can feel the cat. It¡¯s... content. Sleepy.¡±

    Terry took a deep breath, steeling himself. ¡°Alright. Here goes nothing.¡±

    He focused on the cat¡¯s aura, comparing it to the mental image he had of Marmalade¡¯s teleportation ability. Carefully, he began to manipulate the energy, folding and twisting it to match the patterns he¡¯d observed.

    Tania watched intently, her eyes darting between Terry and the cat. ¡°I can feel something changing,¡± she whispered. ¡°It¡¯s like... a ripple in the cat¡¯s aura.¡±

    Terry nodded, not breaking his concentration. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he worked, the delicate manipulations taxing his mental stamina.

    Suddenly, the cat¡¯s ears perked up. It looked around, confused, then darted off in a rush.

    Terry and Tania exchanged sheepish glances as they watched the orange tabby disappear around the legs of a few very surprised people.

    ¡°Well, that was dumb,¡± Terry muttered, running a hand through his hair. ¡°We should¡¯ve seen that coming.¡±

    Tania nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ¡°Yeah, guess we got a bit ahead of ourselves there.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind raced, trying to salvage their experiment. ¡°Maybe we could catch one? Hold it still while I work?¡±

    As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how ridiculous that sounded. The image of them chasing cats around the evacuation area, causing a commotion, flashed through his mind. He could almost hear the disapproving chatter, questioning what the hell they were doing.

    ¡°Uh, nevermind,¡± he backpedaled quickly. ¡°That¡¯s probably not the best idea.¡±

    To his surprise, Tania¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Sit back. I¡¯ve got this.¡±

    She stood up, brushing off her pants, and began to look around. Her eyes settled on a fluffy white cat lounging nearby¡ªEleanor, judging by its System tag. Terry watched, bemused, as Tania¡¯s entire demeanor changed. Her usual brash confidence melted away, replaced by a gentleness he¡¯d never seen before.

    ¡°Here, kitty kitty,¡± she cooed softly, approaching the cat with slow, deliberate steps. ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetheart. I¡¯m not gonna hurt you.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Was this really Tania? The same girl who¡¯d once told Mesmer off and faced down vampires without batting an eye? He bit back a sarcastic comment, not wanting to break her concentration.

    To his amazement, the cat didn¡¯t bolt. Instead, it looked up at Tania with curious eyes as she knelt beside it. She held out her hand, letting the cat sniff her fingers. After a moment, the cat bumped its head against her palm, and Tania began to scratch behind its ears.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good kitty,¡± she murmured, her voice full of affection. ¡°You¡¯re such a pretty girl, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Terry watched, slack-jawed, as Tania scooped the cat into her arms. The feline settled against her chest, purring contentedly.

    ¡°Since when are you the cat whisperer?¡± Terry asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

    Tania shot him a look that was half-pride, half-defiance. ¡°I¡¯ve always loved cats, dummy. Just ¡®cause I don¡¯t go around advertising it doesn¡¯t mean it isn¡¯t true.¡±

    Terry nodded, filing away this new piece of information about his friend. He couldn¡¯t help but think sarcastically, ¡®Right, because nothing says cat lover like your usual tendency to solve problems with your fists.¡¯ But he knew better than to voice that thought aloud. Instead, he gestured to a spot near him.

    ¡°Well, cat whisperer, why don¡¯t you bring your new friend over here so we can try this again?¡±

    Tania settled down next to him, the white cat curled up in her lap. She stroked its fur gently, keeping it calm and relaxed.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Terry said, taking a deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s give this another shot.¡±

    He closed his eyes, focusing on the cat¡¯s aura. It was different from the orange tabby¡¯s, but the basic structure was the same. He began to manipulate it, carefully folding and twisting the energy to match the patterns he¡¯d observed in Marmalade¡¯s teleportation ability.

    The work was delicate and exhausting. Sweat beaded on Terry¡¯s forehead as he concentrated, trying to maintain the intricate mental image while making the necessary adjustments. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching out as he worked.

    Beside him, Tania remained uncharacteristically quiet, her attention split between the cat in her lap and monitoring Terry¡¯s progress through her newfound abilities.

    ¡°I can feel it changing,¡± she whispered after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. ¡°It¡¯s like... ripples in a pond, but in the cat¡¯s aura.¡±

    Terry nodded slightly, not wanting to break his concentration. He could feel it too¡ªthe subtle shifts in the cat¡¯s energy as he manipulated it. It was doing something, that much was clear. But would it be what they expected?

    He pushed on, refining his technique with each passing moment. The cat remained calm in Tania¡¯s lap, seemingly unaware of the changes happening to its very essence.

    As Terry worked, he felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This was it¡ªhe was actually doing it. He was manipulating an aura, changing its fundamental structure. The implications were staggering, but he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing solely on the task at hand.

    Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Terry opened his eyes. He blinked, adjusting to the light, and looked down at the cat. It looked the same as before, still contentedly curled up in Tania¡¯s lap.

    ¡°Did it work?¡± Tania asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Terry took a deep breath, feeling the fatigue of his efforts settling into his bones. ¡°I... I think so. But we won¡¯t know for sure until we test it.¡±

    Tania nodded, her eyes shining with excitement and anticipation. ¡°So, what now?¡±

    ¡°Now,¡± Terry said, leaning back and stretching his tired muscles, ¡°we give it a little fright. See if we¡¯ve managed to give this cat the ability to teleport.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 14: Unexpected Visitors

    Terry and Tania exchanged a nervous glance as they prepared to test their handiwork. Tania gently set Eleanor down on the stone floor, her fingers lingering for a moment in its soft fur.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Terry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Tania nodded, her eyes fixed on the cat. ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be.¡±

    Terry took a deep breath, centering himself. He raised his hand, palm up, and focused on his Master of Light Skill. Energy tingled through his fingertips as he shaped it, preparing a small but startling burst of light.

    The cat sat peacefully, its tail swishing lazily across the floor, blinking up at them with innocent eyes.

    ¡°Here goes nothing,¡± Terry muttered.

    In a quick motion, he released the energy he¡¯d been holding. A bright flash erupted from his palm, flaring in front of the cat¡¯s eyes.

    It¡¯s reaction was instantaneous. Its eyes widened in shock, and its fur stood on end. It let out a startled yowl, its body tensing. In a blur of motion, it bolted across the stone floor, darting between the legs of nearby refugees. Terry¡¯s heart sank as he watched the feline disappear into the crowd without a trace of teleportation.

    ¡°Well, that was anticlimactic,¡± Terry sighed, shoulders slumping. He ran a hand through his hair. ¡°I really thought we¡¯d done it.¡±

    Tania stood up, brushing cat hair from her pants. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t beat yourself up.¡± She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say Marlon¡¯s been working on this for twenty years? Give yourself more than twenty minutes.¡±

    Terry nodded, trying to keep the discouragement from his voice. ¡°I know, I just... I thought I understood it. I was so sure I¡¯d replicated Marmalade¡¯s aura pattern correctly.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you did,¡± Tania said, her brow furrowing in thought. ¡°But there could be other factors we¡¯re not considering. What if the cat needs to be trained? Needs to consciously trigger it?¡±

    Terry perked up slightly at her suggestions. ¡°That¡¯s a good point actually.¡±

    Tania grinned, her enthusiasm infectious. ¡°Those are the only kinda points I make! Come on, let¡¯s go wrangle her and try again. You can do this.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t help but smile at her optimism. ¡°Fine, fine. You go. I¡¯ll just get in your way and spook the whole herd.¡±

    After a few minutes of determined effort, Tania managed to coax Eleanor out from her hiding spot behind a stack of supplies. Terry watched from a distance, surprised at this version of Tania. Her voice was gentle, her tone patient, and with seemingly no effort, she was able to approach the cat without startling it.

    ¡°There you go, sweetheart,¡± Tania murmured, her fingers lightly scratching behind the cat¡¯s ears. ¡°No one¡¯s gonna hurt you.¡±

    Terry watched in amazement as Tania scooped up the cat and cradled it against her chest. The animal, which had been so skittish just moments ago, now seemed content in her arms.

    ¡°I swear, Tania, you¡¯ve got some kind of cat-whisperer ability you¡¯re not telling me about,¡± Terry said, shaking his head in disbelief.

    Tania chuckled softly, careful not to disturb the cat. ¡°Nah, just been around a lotta cats. My grandma had a whole clowder of these little guys.¡±

    Terry stared back blankly.

    ¡°A¡­clowder?¡±

    She settled back down on the floor, gently arranging Eleanor in her lap. It kneaded her thighs for a moment before curling up, its tail wrapping around its body. She glanced up, nodding.

    ¡°It¡¯s a group of cats.¡±

    Terry knelt beside them, moving slowly.

    ¡°Okay, admit it, you made that word up.¡±

    She chuckled lightly. ¡°Nope, it¡¯s legit.¡±

    He shook his head, turning back to the task at hand. His brow furrowed in concentration as he steadied himself to make another attempt. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The sounds of the refugees around them faded into the background as he turned his focus to the cat in her arms.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said quietly, opening his eyes. ¡°I think I¡¯m ready to try again.¡±

    Tania nodded, her hand resting lightly on the cat¡¯s back. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on its aura, see if I can spot any changes.¡±

    Terry raised his hands, holding them just above the cat without touching it. He could sense Eleanor¡¯s aura, a soft, pulsing energy that seemed to radiate contentment. Carefully, he began to examine the aura, trying to match the patterns he¡¯d made to Marmalade¡¯s.

    As he worked, Terry felt a bead of sweat form on his brow. He spent as long as he needed, isolating every little fold, shift, and node in the cat¡¯s aura, comparing them to the molds in his mind.

    As he delved deeper into the intricacies of the aura, he noticed something new, something he¡¯d missed before. There was a subtle difference in the way the energy flowed through certain nodes. In Marmalade¡¯s aura, there had been movement in these nodes, pulsing with a rhythmic energy, almost like a heartbeat. But in his current test subject, these same nodes were static, lacking that vital pulse.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Terry¡¯s eyes snapped open, a spark of realization igniting within him. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it,¡± he whispered, careful not to startle the cat.

    Tania leaned in, her voice low. ¡°What is it?¡±

    Terry¡¯s brow furrowed as he searched for the right words. ¡°There¡¯s a... rhythm to it. In Marmalade¡¯s aura, certain points pulse with energy. But in this cat, those same points are just... still.¡±

    He placed his hands gently on either side of the cat, not quite touching its fur. Closing his eyes again, he focused on those static nodes. He imagined them beginning to pulse, matching the rhythm he¡¯d sensed in Marmalade¡¯s aura. Slowly, he pushed his own power through them to see if he could jumpstart the flow.

    As he worked, Terry felt a subtle shift in the cat¡¯s energy. The static nodes began to flicker, weakly at first, then growing stronger. He poured more of his own energy into the process, coaxing those flickering nodes into a steady rhythm.

    Terry¡¯s focus was locked on Eleanor, his hands hovering just above its fur. He could feel the subtle currents of aura flowing through the feline, pulsing in time with its contented purrs. As he worked to manipulate its aura, he noticed Tania¡¯s gentle strokes aligning with the rhythm he was trying to create.

    The air around them felt thick with energy as Terry poured his concentration into the task. He sensed the strain on his own aura, pushing himself to maintain the delicate balance necessary for anchoring the teleportation ability. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pushed the cat¡¯s aura into the flowing pattern he¡¯d observed in Marmalade.

    Minutes passed, and Terry felt the pulses growing stronger and more consistent. He watched in fascination as the cat¡¯s aura began to shift, adapting to the new rhythm he was imposing. It reminded him of weaving, each adjustment like threading a new strand into an intricate design.

    The cat stirred slightly, and Terry held his breath, afraid the movement might disrupt his work. To his relief, Tania adjusted her stroking, keeping the feline calm. He heard her whisper softly to the cat, ¡°Easy there, little one. You¡¯re doing great.¡±

    As Terry continued his efforts, he sensed a building tension in the cat¡¯s aura. It felt like a rubber band being stretched to its limit, and he wondered if this was the crucial moment they¡¯d been working towards. He held his focus, hoping this tension was the key.

    His aura quivered as he struggled against unexpected resistance from the cat¡¯s aura. What had started as a smooth process was now becoming increasingly difficult. Eleanor¡¯s energy seemed to push back against his efforts, like trying to mold clay that kept springing back to its original shape.

    His limbs began to shake as he poured more of his own energy into the task. He gritted his teeth.

    So close! So close¡­

    The pulsing nodes he¡¯d established began to flicker erratically, threatening to revert to their static state.

    He could feel his own aura stretching thin, sucked into the cat¡¯s aura like a vortex. The resistance grew stronger, and Terry found himself locked in an invisible tug-of-war.

    His brow furrowed in concentration. ¡°Come on.¡± He tried to visualize the rhythm he¡¯d sensed in Marmalade¡¯s aura, attempting to imprint it more forcefully into Eleanor¡¯s energy.

    But the more he pushed, the more the cat¡¯s aura seemed to resist. It was as if the feline¡¯s very essence was rejecting the foreign pattern Terry was trying to impose. The pulsing nodes began to fade, slipping away from the rhythm he¡¯d worked so hard to establish.

    Terry¡¯s frustration mounted as he felt his control fade. And the more frustrated he became, the more difficult it was to maintain the flow.

    His muscles clenched, his aura spasming. The resistance he encountered was unlike anything he¡¯d experienced before. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of shaping energy or manipulating light; this was like trying to redirect a river with his bare hands.

    He¡¯d been so sure he¡¯d understood the process, so confident in his ability to replicate what he¡¯d seen in Marmalade¡¯s aura. But now, faced with the reality of anchoring a skill to a living being, Terry realized just how naive he¡¯d been.

    The complexity of the task dawned on him with crushing clarity. It wasn¡¯t just about copying a pattern or replicating an energy signature. The cat¡¯s aura was alive, dynamic, and stubbornly resistant to change. Every time Terry thought he¡¯d made progress, the energy would slip away, reverting to its original state.

    ¡°Hey.¡± Tania¡¯s voice broke through the building frustration. ¡°You¡¯re doing great, Terry. I can feel something happening.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes flickered open for a moment, meeting Tania¡¯s gaze. He could see the subtle optimism in her eyes.

    His jaw clenched. ¡°This is harder than I thought.¡±

    Tania nodded, her hand still gently stroking the cat in her lap. ¡°We¡¯re not in a rush. Don¡¯t force it. Just¡­let the aura take shape as you go.¡±

    The words sank in and he let his shoulders relax.

    She was right. I was rushing, anticipating a power up. I just need to be methodical.

    Terry took a deep breath, letting the relaxation seep from his shoulders, down to his arms, his back. He realized that even his toes had been clenched tight.

    Her eyes sparkled with quiet confidence. ¡°You¡¯ve got this. Just breathe and focus.¡±

    Terry nodded, closing his eyes once more. His aura shifted, the angry, jagged edges smoothing out as he regained his composure.

    As he returned his attention to the cat¡¯s aura, he took a different approach. Rather than try to force the power through, he began to work within the natural flow. He visualized the pulsing, offering avenues of movement, but not forcibly manipulating its aura framework.

    A suggestion, rather than a command.

    As he worked, he felt the flow of its aura now like a gentle current rather than a raging river.

    A flicker of hope sparked in his chest as he felt the cat¡¯s aura begin to yield. The pathways he had opened up began to fill with power, but the connections were incomplete. Emboldened, he worked to create those connections, bridge the nodes with options, not carved pathways.

    He felt the progress like a growing flame, added fuel to the fire.

    Tania¡¯s hand suddenly gripped his forearm, her nails digging deep furrows, smashing his concentration.

    ¡°Tania! What the¡ª¡±

    The moment he caught her expression, his annoyance shifted to fear.

    ¡°What?¡± He let the aura go, reaching out toward her. The cat rubbed against her hands, clearly annoyed that she¡¯d stopped petting it. But Tania didn¡¯t seem to notice, her eyes widening. ¡°Tania, you¡¯re scaring me!¡±

    Suddenly, a tremor shook the platform, causing the cat to leap from Tania¡¯s lap with a startled yowl. It disappeared into the crowd of people as Terry reached for Tania.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Terry asked, his voice tight with concern.

    Before Tania could respond, another tremor rippled through the stone platform, stronger than the first. Around them, the evacuees began to stir, confused murmurs quickly giving way to frightened exclamations.

    Sol rose into the air, his skin brightening like a beacon.

    ¡°Remain calm! Everyone remain calm!¡±

    Tania snapped back into awareness, her grip loosening on Terry¡¯s arm.

    ¡°They found us.¡±

    Terry¡¯s heart dropped.

    ¡°Qui Shen?¡± He kept his voice low so the nearby people wouldn¡¯t hear, but despite his efforts, the fear he felt managed to sneak in anyway.

    Tania shook her head slowly and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

    ¡°Then who?¡±

    She looked over toward the far wall of the tunnel, just as it began to part like liquid.

    When she looked back, the fear drained away, replaced with confusion.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­Tinker.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 15: Backed into a Corner

    Bloodhound¡¯s eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd of obvious refugees. His heightened senses, honed through years of training and experience, picked up on subtle cues that others might miss. The desperate set of their shoulders, the nervous twitches, the auras flaring in terror, the frantic whites of their eyes showing in fear and submission, and the way they huddled together like a herd surrounded by wolves. In his mind¡¯s eye, he could see the diaspora as if he had been there, one of them as they fled from their homes.

    But he wasn¡¯t here to analyze the crowd. He wasn¡¯t a crowd-mover like a Hypnotist. No, he was a tracker. He was Bloodhound. His target was singular and he turned his attention to that task now.

    He tasted the aura in the air, felt its eddies brush against his skin. So many, so poignant. But his prowess was as singular as his target. After a moment, he caught a sense of¡­something. His pulse quickened. He couldn¡¯t pinpoint the designated target¡ªtoo many disparate auras, agitated and flared¡ªbut he knew with that bone-deep certainty he¡¯d cultivated since the F-grades; the Chameleon was here.

    With practiced subtlety, Bloodhound turned his head slightly towards Tinker. He gave an almost imperceptible nod in the direction of the clustered refugees. The gesture was smooth, natural¡ªto anyone else, it might have looked like he was simply surveying the scene. But he saw in the shift of Tinker¡¯s stance the message had been conveyed; no need for System chat.

    Tinker¡¯s power armor hummed softly as he processed Bloodhound¡¯s silent signal. With a subtle pivot, he turned his attention to the crowd of refugees. His enhanced sensors scanned the masses, cataloging faces, body language, and auras.

    The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. They were vastly outnumbered. Hundreds of frightened, desperate people huddled together, their eyes darting nervously between Tinker¡¯s imposing figure and the reassuring presence of Sol.

    And they were nearly all of them Awakened. A veritable army of supers, scared and on edge.

    Tinker¡¯s mind raced, calculating odds and potential outcomes. A direct confrontation would throw a spark into dry kindling. Chaos was not his friend right now, not with the Chameleon nearly in hand.

    He needed a more delicate approach.

    He turned his head slightly, signaling to Lady and Bloodhound to stay alert but not to make any sudden moves, then confirmed the order through System chat. They needed to tread carefully in this powder keg of emotions and desperation.

    An older man bathed in a soft, ethereal glow stepped forward. Tinker¡¯s sensors cataloged the power emanating from the super, confirming what his eyes told him.

    Despite all accounts, Solomon Rosenthal was very much alive. Not only that, but he stood before Tinker with a corona of power about him that was a cut above his own.

    Tinker had interacted with the Knights of Sol on occasion¡ªthem being neighbors and all¡ªand had even had dealings with Sol infrequently.

    But despite the obvious power exuding from the man, this wasn¡¯t the Sol of his memory. More grey than not tinged his beard and his eyes were sunken, hollow orbs where they had once been radiant gems. His limbs, once lithe and wiry, could only now be described as emaciated and weak.

    That wasn¡¯t to say he was weak¡ªonly that he wore the weariness of the last few years on his sleeve.

    Despite this, his voice was calm and measured as he addressed Tinker.

    ¡°Damien. It¡¯s good to see you, though the circumstances are certainly unusual.¡± His gaze held Tinker¡¯s featureless mask with a convincing confidence, but Tinker turned his armor toward analyzing the man¡¯s biomarkers.

    ¡°Solomon. You look¡­well.¡±

    Sol scoffed, but the light emanating from him pulsed gently, a subtle reminder of his power. His hands remained relaxed at his sides, but there was a tension in his shoulders that spoke of something lurking beneath the surface.

    ¡°What brings you down here?¡± There was a hopeful edge to his voice, despite the rumblings of a thousand worried mutterings behind him. ¡°Did Terraform send for you?¡±

    Tinker always felt more comfortable inside his power armor; secure, strong, practically untouchable. But besides the strength, ease of information, and abilities his armor provided, the thing he cherished most, the aspect of his armor that he most appreciated, was his mask.

    He¡¯d never had much of a poker face.

    So he knew that the expression he bore now¡ªthe narrowing of his eyes, furrowing of his brow, the slight slackness in his mouth¡ªwould have laid his shock and confusion bare for the entire stone barge of people to see.

    Instead, he took the moment to marshal his thoughts, a pause that gave the impression that he wasn¡¯t on the back foot, but rather was well in control of himself.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you apprise me of the situation.¡± Tinker¡¯s armored hand gestured away from the crowd slowly bulging toward them.

    Sol briefly scanned the refugees behind him, silently assuring them with his steady gaze and a confident gesture. As he moved away to join Tinker, Lady, and Bloodhound, a voice cut through the air.

    ¡°I am Rupert Olivier and as a ranking member of the Market, I demand to be present for negotiations.¡±

    Tinker turned back to see a man stride through the crowd, his eyes haughty, his chin raised. He came to Sol¡¯s side, a silent dare in the cast of his eyes.

    Sol¡¯s only response was a furrowing of his brow, an obvious sign of his discomfort. But before he could voice any objection, Tinker inclined his armored head in a curt nod. ¡°Very well,¡± he said, his voice modulated, calm and steady.

    The small group formed a tight circle, isolated from the main crowd but still within view. Sol¡¯s shoulders were tense, his radiant confidence of before dimmed by the presence of the man calling himself Rupert. In contrast, Rupert stood with an air of defiance, his chin lifted as if waiting for someone to challenge his presence.

    Tinker eyed the two men for a moment before his voice cut through the tension. ¡°Why don¡¯t you start, Sol?¡±

    An edge passed over Sol¡¯s face, his eyes narrowing briefly before widening in revelation.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t come to aid us, did you?¡± His voice was low, only his power armor¡¯s enhanced sensors picking up the words. ¡°Terraform didn¡¯t send out a call for help, did he?¡±

    Rupert cut his gaze toward Sol, his nose furled, his tone haughty. ¡°Of course he did. Why else would they be miles under the earth? How could they have found us otherwise?¡±

    Sol ignored the man, his eyes glowing bright, locked powerfully on Tinker¡¯s mask.

    After a moment, Tinker sighed.

    ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Rupert¡¯s head whipped back. ¡°We¡¯ve been chasing a fugitive who fled with the aid of a Stone Elementalist.¡± He thumbed to his left. ¡°Sol, you might know Bloodhound.¡±

    Sol nodded toward the tracker, his lips pursed tight. At his side, Rupert was spluttering in shock.

    ¡°What? This doesn¡¯t make any sense. The chances¡ª¡±

    ¡°Our fugitive is here, among your charges,¡± Tinker continued, ignoring the man¡¯s confusion. ¡°Bloodhound can sense him, though we would need a closer examination to isolate his signature.¡±

    ¡°And who is this fugitive?¡± Sol asked lightly. ¡°Who is so important that it warrants an entire team sent away from Topeka?¡±

    Lady and Bloodhound shared a pained look behind him¡ªhis power armor picked up on the movement, sending him the feed in the corner of his vision¡ªbut he ignored their obvious lack of commitment to his goal. He couldn¡¯t blame them; the Chameleon was his own little obsession. And by virtue of his status, he didn¡¯t need to justify himself to them.

    ¡°Our target is the one styled the Chameleon. He¡¯s a rogue super who¡¯s been raiding Topekan depots for the past few months. I¡¯ve been given leave to apprehend him.¡± Despite his power armor¡¯s modulated voice, he let the sincerity leak through with a subtle mental command, hardening his tone. ¡°By any means necessary.¡±

    Sol¡¯s face remained impassive, but a flicker of unease crossed his eyes. He opened his mouth and Tinker could already hear the denial on his tongue, when Rupert¡¯s voice interrupted him.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°We have nothing to hide,¡± Rupert declared boldly, stepping forward. His eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and calculation as he addressed Tinker directly. ¡°We will gladly allow you and your team to scan for this Chameleon¡­in exchange for aid.¡±

    Sol¡¯s head snapped towards Rupert, his expression a mix of shock and betrayal. The light emanating from his form flickered momentarily, betraying his inner turmoil. His mouth opened and shut in a struggle to find words. He had been caught off guard by Rupert¡¯s unexpected declaration.

    Tinker¡¯s helmet tilted slightly, letting the gesture convey his interest despite the lack of visible facial expressions. The tension in the air thickened as Sol and Rupert locked eyes, a silent battle of wills playing out between them.

    Sol¡¯s expression tightened, his jaw clenching as he struggled to find a way out of the corner Rupert had backed him into. He glanced between Rupert¡¯s defiant stance and Tinker¡¯s imposing figure, no doubt feeling the weight of his responsibility for the refugees behind him.

    He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips. Tinker understood his dilemma. Sol had an idea who the Chameleon was and was forced to balance that loyalty against hundreds of lives. What could he say? Strong-arming Rupert would only raise suspicion, and Tinker could read the desperation in Sol¡¯s body language. His shoulders sagged, the realization that he had no choice seeming to settle in.

    His eyes met Tinker¡¯s expressionless mask, and he took a deep breath.

    ¡°You¡¯re free to look for this¡­Chameleon. But you should know that Qui Shen is here, in North America. Or, rather, he¡¯s somewhere under the surface, pursuing us.¡±

    Tinker once again thanked his power armor for hiding the naked shock on his face.

    ¡°Qui Shen? That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±

    Sol shook his head sadly. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not so ridiculous as it is deranged. You¡¯ve heard the rumors of his insanity and they appear to be true.¡±

    Tinker took a moment to process this news, his thoughts churning wildly. At his side, Lady stirred.

    ¡°Damien, we need to report back¡ª¡±

    He raised an armored hand, switching over to System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Tinker]: Start dictating this entire conversation to the Council, including everything already discussed. Assume the threat is credible and request SPC reinforcements.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Lady]: What does Qui Shen want? Why risk leaving Asia? Terraform¡¯s Market is an inconsequential independent city.

    </blockquote>

    There was only one thing that would draw a madman like Qui Shen out of his nest.

    ¡°Terraform has a Singularity, then?¡± he muttered.

    Sol flinched, all the confirmation he needed, but it was obvious this was news to Rupert.

    ¡°A Singularity?¡± he burst out. Those refugees nearest began muttering at the outburst.

    ¡°Quiet, fool!¡± Bloodhound hissed, studying the crowd over Rupert¡¯s shoulder.

    Rupert blanched at the insult, but steamrolled over his own pride.

    ¡°Those are just urban legends,¡± he insisted. ¡°Flaccid justifications between the Originals to justify their wars.¡±

    Tinker shook his head, but sidestepped the man¡¯s floundering comments.

    ¡°So Terraform has a Singularity, then?¡± he directed toward Sol. ¡°Tell me he¡¯s fled, that you¡¯re the diversion.¡± But he could tell by the look on Sol¡¯s face that honor had impeded common sense. He growled inside his suit.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone to ambush Qui Shen, obviously. He¡¯s buying us time to escape,¡± Rupert said.

    Lady cringed, while Bloodhound scowled. Behind his mask, Tinker felt the blood rushing to his face. He immediately sent off half a dozen System messages to the Council, SPC, and Dancer personally.

    Rupert, not understanding the idiocy of what he said, looked around in confusion.

    ¡°He¡¯s sacrificing himself to save thousands of innocents. How could he do anything different?¡±

    ¡°Jesus, man, are you slow?¡± Bloodhound barked. Looking around, he lowered his voice. ¡°If Terraform dies, he¡¯ll be handing Qui Shen the Singularity on a silver platter. He¡¯ll turn Qui Shen into the most powerful super on the planet.¡±

    Rupert went through all the stages of Ds right before their eyes, a kaleidoscope of doubt, denial, and then dismay.

    But Tinker wasn¡¯t paying the man any attention. Instead, his mind was calculating, factoring in what he knew of Terraform, Qui Shen, Sol, and the Singularities.

    ¡°That¡¯s twice now you¡¯ve insulted me,¡± Rupert huffed. His fingers visibly clenched into his fists. ¡°There won¡¯t be a third.¡±

    Bloodhound raised his eyebrows mockingly. ¡°Wanna bet?¡±

    Lady stepped between them, her hands pressed to their chests. ¡°Boys, there¡¯s nothing less attractive than a dick-measuring contest. Put ¡®em away¡ª¡± She indicated the increasingly frantic crowd behind them. ¡°¡ªbefore we have a full-blown panic on our hands.¡±

    While they locked eyes in a testosterone-induced tug-o-war, Tinker¡¯s mind worked.

    Terraform was inherently an honorable man, one not prone to selfish acts of petty defiance or futile last stands. If he was going to fight Qui Shen, it was with the knowledge that he wouldn¡¯t lose¡­or he no longer held the Singularity.

    His eyes ripped up, suddenly locked on Sol with an intensity that only shocked revelation could imbue. He found the man side-eyeing him, only pretending to intercede in Rupert and Bloodhound¡¯s boyish posturing. Through his mask, Tinker could sense Sol¡¯s attention on him like the heat of the sun on a cloudless day.

    Sol has Terraform¡¯s Singularity. This is their gambit.

    The stakes heightened suddenly, his interface indicating that his heart rate was erratic, cortisol and adrenaline levels rising above baseline levels. He silenced the alarms, then silenced the two bickering men with the unyielding strength of his power armor stretching out to push them away from each other.

    ¡°Enough,¡± he scolded. He turned his mask toward each of them, waiting until they acknowledged his command with terse nods. ¡°Qui Shen is the enemy of all.¡± He turned to Sol, noting the man¡¯s on-edge posture. ¡°We will provide what aid we can, but not here. Our only salvation lies on the surface. I¡¯ll have the entire Council and nearby SPC supers waiting for us.¡± Sol¡¯s posture relaxed incrementally as he spoke, but despite the threat of Qui Shen looming over them all, he also recognized his own unique point of leverage as their savior. ¡°But in exchange¡ª¡± He leaned in, his modulated voice low. ¡°¡ªI want the Chameleon.¡±

    <hr>

    Terry watched Tinker, Bloodhound, Lady, and their team step onto their platform, his heart pounding in his chest. Sol stood tall, his ethereal glow a stark contrast to the dim tunnel, as he faced off against the three supers. The sight of Lady, once a poster on his wall, an effigy to his boyhood admiration, now sent a chill down Terry¡¯s spine.

    She was hunting him.

    Beside him, Tania¡¯s grip on his arm tightened, her fingernails digging into his skin. He could feel her panic radiating through her touch, matching the frantic beating of his own heart.

    ¡°They followed us!¡± Tania whispered, her voice trembling. ¡°How did they follow us?¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind raced, but not on that question. The question didn¡¯t matter; all the mattered was how they were going to escape. He scanned the tunnel, looking for any possible avenue, but the stone walls seemed to close in around them. The crowd of refugees pressed in all around, unknowingly trapping him in place.

    Maybe he could part space, but where would they go? The only place within his range was the Market and that was a death trap. Even trying to part space would only confirm his identity as the Chameleon. His eyes darted between Sol and Tinker, trying to gauge the situation from their body language.

    ¡°We need to blend in,¡± Terry murmured to Tania, attempting to keep his voice steady. ¡°Act natural. We¡¯re just two more refugees, scared and confused.¡±

    ¡°I am scared and confused,¡± Tania muttered.

    He turned to look at her, willing confidence into his eyes, though it felt hollow.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna be okay, Tania.¡±

    But even as he said it, he knew he was just giving false hope. Bloodhound¡¯s tracking abilities were legendary, and if he got close enough, he¡¯d be discovered in an instant. Terry¡¯s mind whirled, grasping at half-formed plans and discarding them just as quickly.

    Tania¡¯s fingernails dug deeper into his arm, her fear palpable. ¡°They¡¯re going to find you,¡± she hissed, her eyes wide with terror.

    Any other time, it might have warmed his chest to know she was only concerned for his wellbeing. But right now, he felt the burden of her anxiety on his shoulders, a responsibility to protect her.

    He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He needed a plan, and he needed one fast. But Tinker¡¯s advanced technology had found him once before. And if his sensors didn¡¯t, Bloodhound¡¯s tracking skills certainly would. Every option seemed to lead to a dead end.

    Terry closed his eyes, reaching out with his aura senses to feel the subtle vibrations in the air. He probed the space around them, searching for any weakness, any crack in the fabric of reality that he could exploit. His mind raced with possibilities¡ªmaybe he could send Tinker and his team to the Market, buying them precious time. It was unlikely he could force an S-ranker through his portal, even two A-rankers was a stretch of the imagination, but he didn¡¯t see any other choice.

    But as he extended his senses further, he felt a familiar resistance. Tinker¡¯s spatial-locking Artifact was engaged, its power far stronger and more intricate than Terry had encountered before. The energy signature pulsed with a complexity that made Terry¡¯s previous encounters with it seem almost primitive in comparison.

    He pushed harder, trying to find any weak point in the spatial lock, but it was like trying to break through a wall of solid steel with his bare hands. The more he probed, the more he realized it wasn¡¯t happening; there was a strength component that hadn¡¯t been there before. Tinker had clearly boosted his Artifact¡¯s power, anticipating Terry¡¯s abilities and countering them with ruthless brute force.

    Frustration welled up inside Terry as he opened his eyes, meeting Tania¡¯s worried gaze. He shook his head slightly, conveying the bad news silently. Even if he could somehow breach Tinker¡¯s defenses, the chances of teleporting them away were basically nil. They were trapped, hemmed in by stone walls, desperate refugees, and Tinker¡¯s impenetrable spatial lock.

    The reality of their situation settled over him like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable.

    He paced back and forth, his fingers drumming anxiously against his thigh. His mind raced, searching for any possible way out of their predicament. The walls of the tunnel seemed to close in around him, the chatter of the refugees fading into a dull roar as he focused on finding a solution.

    Suddenly, his eyes lit up with a desperate idea. It was risky, perhaps even foolish, but it might be their only chance. He turned to Tania, his voice low and urgent.

    ¡°I need to anchor a Skill,¡± he whispered, his words tumbling out in a rush. ¡°We need to finish what we started with Eleanor. If I can do it, I might be able to get my Midmark¡ª¡±

    Warning! Revealing information about your Quests will result in consequences.

    He growled in annoyance. Her brow furrowed. ¡°How? We don¡¯t have time to¡ª¡±

    Terry cut her off, his eyes blazing with determination. ¡°We have to try. It¡¯s our only shot.¡±

    He knew in his bones that if he could reach C-rank, they might have a chance to escape. The boost in power could give him the edge he needed to break through Tinker¡¯s spatial lock or create a diversion strong enough to slip away unnoticed. He didn¡¯t know why he felt so certain¡ªjust a feeling that seemed to invade his mind, pushing him toward the only avenue that wasn¡¯t completely roadblocked.

    ¡°We need to get Eleanor or another cat, ASAP¡ª¡±

    Tania was shaking his head, her eyes locked on Tinker and Sol. ¡°There¡¯s no time.¡± Her eyes cut back to Terry, full of burning fire, resolute determination. ¡°You need to start now.¡±

    He reeled back, sensing where she was going but not wanting to acknowledge it.

    She filled the space, leaning in until they were almost touching face-to-face.

    ¡°You need to anchor your Skill in me.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 16: Spatial Storm

    Marlon stood in the center of the Pit, the heart of the Market, his aura pulsing with newfound power. He took a deep breath, centering himself, flexing his control over space like a nervous tic. The air around him bent with his will, his senses attuned to every subtle shift in the fabric of space.

    As he exhaled slowly, his awareness extended outward, feeling the intricate web of spatial connections that made up the Market. Each alleyway, each shop, each hidden nook was his domain; a potential weapon in his arsenal. And he could sense the impending danger, knew he¡¯d need every weapon, every trick, if he were going to stop Skipper.

    He began weaving invisible threads through space, laying the groundwork for his web of traps and diversions. His lips were set in grim determination as he split his focus across dozens of these threads.

    Skipper had the power edge, but Marlon had the advantage of preparation and skill. And it was time to see just how much that counted for.

    The attacks on Market space gradually intensified and Marlon was forced to divert more attention to shutting them down.

    Just a minute longer¡­

    Despite his contempt for the man, Skipper wasn¡¯t an idiot. He was simply arrogant¡ªa byproduct of his strength. So Marlon knew that Skipper would vary his approach, try different avenues, hope to overwhelm his pool of power and attention through a scatter shot approach.

    All Marlon needed to do was open a channel, slip the gate into the Market on his terms.

    There!

    An intrusion began to form in an alleyway in the Services Sector. Marlon could have clamped it shut, cut off the power before it could split space. But he let it slide open, slip through his fingers like a weary man overwhelmed by the sheer volume of attacks.

    A portal snapped into place, anchored itself into reality and even Marlon couldn¡¯t have sealed it shut now if he wanted to.

    When the first soldier peeked his head through the portal, scanned his eyes across the alleyway, he half-expected to eat a bullet or suffer some magical attack. Instead, all he saw were upturned cobblestones, debris, and the detritus of a hastily abandoned city.

    He stepped through, signaling the all clear behind him.

    High above, Marlon watched from his pinhole portal as a dozen more men and women stepped through the portal, filling the alleyway. The waves of aura around the group were of a middling strength¡ªa cadre of B-rankers, most likely.

    He watched and waited, feeling a second portal pass his defensive net in a similar alley across the Market. Then a third.

    From each portal, a dozen mid-rank soldiers filtered through.

    And he sprung his traps.

    The air around each invading force seemed to thicken with power. They felt the change immediately, but their portals were one-way¡ªthere was no retreat.

    The first group found themselves disoriented, their vision flipped, the ground above them and open space beneath them. As one, they threw themselves to the floor, clutching futilely at the cobblestones as space betrayed them.

    A second group found themselves similarly confused about the orientation of space, but were actively flying through the air. A portal materialized beneath them¡ªalready formed, but somehow hidden. As they entered, a split-second of null-space led them out a second portal formed only a hairs breadth above the first. They fell in a never ending revolving door of space, cut off from their senses and power except for a microsecond between the two portals.

    The third group found themselves trapped in a narrow alley that seemed to writhe around them, mocking their senses. As a group, they raced toward the alley mouth, only to find themselves back were they started. Reversing their path did nothing, and they soon found themselves sprinting end to end with no change, an eternal Penrose alleyway that no amount of aura or power could shatter.

    More squads were allowed into the Market and each one found themselves in a bewildering, brain-defying trap. Portals winked in and out of existence, space bent and shifted wholesale, and chaos reigned across the Market.

    There was a spatial storm raging in the Market and Marlon stood in the Eye.

    When Skipper finally arrived, his presence rang out like a clarion call, attempting to dominate the Market space with steel willpower and iron fist.

    But you didn¡¯t tame a tempest with the lash; you rode it like a sailor strapped to the mast, giving in to its whims. You could no more defy the storm than you could quench the sun.

    So Marlon sat back as Skipper tried to smooth the very waves of reality, creating new folds like bunches in the rug that defied attempts to shove them flat.

    In one corner of the Market, a dozen Awakened were stranded in the void of subspace when Skipper¡¯s machinations broke their portal¡¯s connection. In another, the labyrinthine maze Marlon had brewed from space collapsed entirely, bringing uncountable tons of stone down upon their heads.

    Everywhere Skipper countered, he only found inventive ways to kill or impede his own men.

    Marlon watched and waited, expecting the frustration to mount until there was only one path forward. He would force a confrontation and spring his last trap.

    Another minute passed and another group died. Skipper¡¯s voice and aura smashed out, a defiant rock chucked into the sea.

    The sea didn¡¯t answer back, but Marlon did.

    With a subtle flick of power, he revealed his location, a beacon visible for miles around, perched on the edge of a glass bridge high above the lava of the Pit.

    Space ripped, screaming open as Skipper stepped across from him.

    He was a weasel of a man on his best of days, small, sickly pale skin, with stringy, grease-coated hair massaged into a side comb that did little to hide his cul-de-sac hairline.

    But as he stood across from Marlon, it seemed the man had seen better days.

    His eyes were darting, bloodshot, sunken. His teeth yellowed and worn, like he¡¯d been grinding them down for weeks. His cheeks were sharp points, threatening to spear through his skin.

    But the power boiled off his aura, thick and dense like a bodybuilder¡¯s muscles. He tried for a quick flick, flexing his power in a stabbing attack across space. Marlon unraveled it with a pull, then crossed his arms contemptuously.

    ¡°What? No villain monologue?¡± He tsked and shook his head. ¡°Qui Shen teach you nothing?¡±

    Skipper growled, stepping forward¡ªa single step that took him a dozen yards, space yielding to his authority. They stood face-to-face now, but both knew the threat was idle; they weren¡¯t brawlers like Duelists or Summoners. They could be touching nose-to-nose and still wouldn¡¯t even think to raise a fist.

    No, their fight would be one of finesse and skill and mastery over space.

    <hr>

    It was a moment of open-mouthed shock before Terry managed to respond to Tania.

    ¡°I thought we talked about this.¡± The tension of Tinker¡¯s presence infected his tone, giving it a hard edge he regretted.

    Instead of fighting fire with fire, Tania¡¯s expression softened.

    ¡°Terry, I know it¡¯s risky, and I know we talked about this already. But the situation¡¯s changed¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not enough to risk your life!¡± he blurted.

    She sat back, looking off into the distance. He held his breath, waiting for the outburst he knew would come. But a moment passed, then two, and he wondered if he was being unfair to Tania. He examined her aura to try and glean what exactly was coursing beneath the surface.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    To his surprise, it was placid, smooth where Tania¡¯s was usually hard-edged and full of fire. For a moment, he feared she was getting another premonition of danger.

    ¡°Tania, what¡¯s wrong?¡±

    She snorted humorlessly, her eyes flicking toward Terry before darting away again.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I¡ª¡± She shook her head, the corners of her lips turning up before she masked it by looking down. ¡°I just realized that I¡¯ve been so wrong¡­about everything.¡±

    Terry felt a flutter in his chest, worried that she was somehow going to say something she couldn¡¯t take back. ¡°What¡­what do you mean?¡± His voice was barely a cut above a whisper.

    She looked up now, her full smile on display.

    ¡°I know this is gonna sound stupid, but I¡­I finally understand why I failed my Awakening the first time. Why I¡¯m a Seer now instead of a Traveler.¡±

    He narrowed his eyes, his thoughts jumbled as he tried to connect the dots. ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    ¡°I wanted it so bad, Terry. The freedom being a Traveler would offer.¡± She looked off, her eyes trailing toward Tinker, Bloodhound, Lady, and Sol. ¡°I never wanted to feel trapped, helpless, like I did when the draugr killed my parents.¡± She looked back, her eyes pinched in a pained expression, her voice lowering. ¡°I was always gonna leave.¡± She said it like a shameful confession and Terry struggled to comprehend. ¡°I never intended to stay in Wichita. When I tried the first time, I was gonna leave Feed Wichita, leave the team¡­leave you.¡±

    He felt his blood surge, his face heat up as he processed that revelation. It felt like a stab to the chest. Tania must have seen his expression because she leaned in, grabbing his arms tight.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t because we¡¯re not best friends, Terry. It hurt me to even think about it¡ª¡±

    He pulled away, feeling that heat in his body shift to his voice. ¡°Then why?¡± he demanded. ¡°And why are you telling me this?¡±

    She sighed, sitting back on her heels, her eyes studying the passing ceiling as their platform continued its slow march to the surface.

    ¡°You don¡¯t see it¡ªI know that. And I don¡¯t blame you.¡±

    ¡°See what!¡± He felt his blood rushing in his ears. ¡°All I¡¯ve ever been is a friend to you, Tania! Everything I¡¯ve done, I included you¡ª¡±

    Her head whipped around, her gaze pinning him in place. ¡°Exactly!¡± She let out a heavy breath, the fire draining from her eyes, her voice lowering. ¡°Exactly. You¡­you¡¯re like gravity, Terry. Everything around you gets pulled into your orbit.¡±

    He opened his mouth to protest¡ªit wasn¡¯t his fault¡ªbut she held up a hand.

    ¡°No, listen. I¡¯m just saying, it¡¯s obvious to anyone who spends any time around you that you have a destiny or some purpose. And we¡¯re getting sucked along by that pull. I¡­resented it at first. I didn¡¯t realize it, but I blamed you for Flore, hell, even for Vlad.¡± Her eyes glistened, tears threatening to break free. ¡°I felt¡ª¡± She shook her head. ¡°¡ªno, I knew, that I¡¯d join them. If I stayed with you, I¡¯d eventually die. That¡¯s why I got the Skills I did, see? My System wanted me to feel safe! It wanted me to realize that you weren¡¯t a black hole pulling me into oblivion. Terry¡ª¡± She reached out, grabbing his hands gently, the tears finally slipping down her cheeks. ¡°¡ªyou¡¯re not a black hole¡­you¡¯re the sun, casting your light upon the world. The things you¡¯re gonna do, the good you¡¯re gonna accomplish¡­I was an idiot, Terry. To try and pull away from that.¡± She was shaking her head still, little flicks of her chin as if she couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°I¡¯m meant to help you, to support you. That¡¯s why I¡¯m a Seer. That¡¯s why I have these abilities. I¡¯m sorry¡ªfor everything, for being selfish, scared, a bitch¡ªall of it. I¡­¡± She squeezed his hands, a sad smile on her face. ¡°I just want to help you continue to shine¡­¡±

    His eyes tracked over her hands, an overwhelming confusion infecting his thoughts. His instinct was to deny her feelings, call her silly, dramatic, or anything¡ªanything to detract from the enormity of that proclamation, the idea that he had some sort of destiny. The thought was like a dirty word in his mind.

    I¡¯m just a kid, he complained internally. Just a kid trying to do the right thing.

    It was a lie, and not even a convincing one. The Weaver had made his path clear when he¡¯d first Awakened. It had set him on a journey to bring peace to the region, to fight back against the Council, Dancer, the Emperor¡­his father. It was false humility to argue otherwise.

    But for some reason, it still stung at him, the way she¡¯d described his presence like a gravitational pull. He didn¡¯t know why¡ªit was true. He¡¯d blamed himself for Flore and Vlad¡¯s death for months¡ªstill did.

    Yet, there was something freeing in the thought, as well. He¡¯d put himself and others in danger, but always for the right reasons. He knew himself, believed he knew his Waker, and he knew Tania. They were doing what they thought was right, what they thought would lead to the most good, as the Weaver had called it. Flore and Vlad hadn¡¯t died for no reason¡ªthey had accomplished good, too.

    And though it saddened him, he felt somewhere deep inside that if they were looking down now, they¡¯d be proud of what they¡¯d accomplished.

    He couldn¡¯t process everything at once; Tania¡¯s words had been like a steamroller on his mind. But as he looked up into her eyes, felt her reassuring warmth in his hands, he felt that he finally understood what she had been hinting at; what drove her.

    She was his friend, his ally, but she wasn¡¯t his charge. It wasn¡¯t his right to shield her from her own decisions. If she wanted to do this, then he would let her.

    ¡°That was a lot to unpack,¡± he said. She snorted, the old tears flicking off her chin. ¡°But I hear you. Had to really dig into the subtext of your point.¡± He flicked his eyebrows as if to say, thanks for the compliment sandwich. ¡°But I hear you.¡± He took a deep breath, reaching for his aura as he calmed his mind. ¡°Do you still wanna do this?¡± His voice was soft, not pushing the issue, giving her the reins to make the call.

    She studied him for a moment, her eyes flicking across his features. Then, a wide smile spread incrementally across her face.

    ¡°You bet your ass.¡±

    <hr>

    To the outside observer, Marlon and Skipper¡¯s duel would have been completely incomprehensible. Space rioted, stuck in the maw of two titanic powers, the death throes of reality, the result.

    Skipper opened by shearing space like a scalpel across where Marlon¡¯s body was. Marlon answered by falling into a portal, entering subspace and exiting in a flash that occurred in perfect time with Skipper¡¯s assault.

    The attacks magnified, a dozen powerful maneuvers that sought to rend reality and turn Marlon into mincemeat. Marlon countered similarly, removing himself from the equation and reappearing fifty feet away on a separate glass bridge.

    Skipper struck, Marlon countered, and space suffered. To the naked eye, distortions spread across the Pit like heat shimmers in the desert. After a full minute, Marlon was forced to rely purely on his senses, as his head began to swim whenever he focused his vision.

    A second minute passed, and the bridges spanning the Pit began to crack and splinter under the warping of space. For two decades, these glass walkways had connected the separate sections of the Market, as integral as arteries in the body. Marlon had never thought he¡¯d see the day they crumbled.

    And yet, the distortions in space worked to undermine Terraform¡¯s engineering and power. The sound of shattering glass tinkled in his ears, dopplered across his senses by the tectonic shifting of the air around them.

    Skipper¡¯s attacks came in faster, stronger, more destructive, shredding the substructure around them. Marlon, on the other hand, only had half his attention on the S-ranker. Every few seconds, he slipped out his own attack, timed in conjunction with Skipper¡¯s so that they remained unnoticed.

    Marlon had learned long ago that S-rankers, more often than not, were unshakably secure in the reach and weight of their power. They stopped learning technique, stopped honing their senses, instead relying upon brute force and raw Attributes to achieve their goals.

    To a hammer, everything was a nail.

    And a Traveler of Skipper¡¯s power was accustomed to the ultimate trump¡ªa get out of jail free card should he ever bite off more than he could chew.

    But there were certain circumstances where that were not true, where space was so bruised and battered and beleaguered that she wouldn¡¯t respond to the call of power any longer. She¡¯d lay down, rest her head on the dirt, and die, like a blown-out horse pushed past her limit. Marlon had never witnessed such an event and he was certain Skipper hadn¡¯t either.

    Now, though, he sensed the heaving breaths of space, the withdrawal of its capacity to shift, the utter collapse of its cohesion and structure.

    He didn¡¯t know if localized space would implode, shoving Marlon and Skipper into some pocket dimension for all eternity. Perhaps space would shatter like a plane of glass, shredding their physical forms into mist. Or even shear around them like the cutting debris of a hurricane.

    What he did know, was that the two of them had abused their domain past the breaking point. Space refused his coaxing, refused Skipper¡¯s bullying, and it raged. It raged around them like deadly leaves in the wind.

    Marlon had known space could be pushed too far¡ªonly his fate remained uncertain. But just in case, on the slim chance reality wouldn¡¯t completely crush him in convulsive anger, he had positioned himself just so. It was a silly thing to do; just taking the bastard down would be enough. But survival instincts were hardwired, even in a man who had spent his life trying to un-hardwire himself.

    The S-ranker sensed the end coming as well. His voice echoed across waves of space, sounding both far off and intimately close.

    ¡°You always¡­thought you were¡­better than me!¡±

    Marlon couldn¡¯t tell if his answer retread space to touch Skipper¡¯s ears, but it warmed his stomach to say them anyway.

    ¡°I always have been!¡±

    Marlon felt his bridge give way, just as he sensed Skipper¡¯s aura fall outside the spatial storm. As he fell through the air toward the lava below, he felt the air around him suddenly still, cohesion return. He looked up, spotting the small area where their duel had been contained. In the moment, it had felt like all of reality had been their battlefield. But from outside the space, it was barely a fifty-by-fifty pocket of warped space, still crashing around itself erratically.

    As he continued to fall, he finally caught sight of Skipper pinwheeling through the air, his eyes locked tight on the lava below. Marlon felt him reach for space, try to ram it open through sheer willpower.

    He strained against the raw power, holding Skipper¡¯s exit portal closed.

    A single second had passed, and they neared the terminus of their fall together. Skipper¡¯s face shifted in surprise, then anger. He tried again, this time pushing so much aura through, he shredded the surrounding space.

    Marlon held tight, letting the pressure build, then let go. The effect was similar to a contested tug-o-war, the other side releasing their hold suddenly. Skipper reeled back in shock, the feedback catching him off guard. Then, he hit the lava with strangled cry.

    A beat later, Marlon also hit something¡ªsomething much harder, but much less painful.

    He felt his legs snap like dry twigs as he landed on the stone abutment sticking out from the Pit wall. The thought of a roll to diffuse his momentum was preposterous¡ªat his size? No, he had suspected the fall would kill him, but had tried anyway.

    So, when his legs gave way and his head cracked against his knee with the sound of a major league home run, he assumed the darkness that followed was him finally returning to that once-forgotten kitchen to rest with his wife and daughter.

    It was with an unbelievable level of annoyance that his eyes flicked open an undefinable amount of time later and he realized that he was¡ªunfortunately¡ªstill alive.

 B2 - Chapter 17: The Burning Court

    Official Decree of the Eternal Flame

    By the unquenchable will of the Eternal Flame, Sovereign of the Burning Court, Supreme Arbiter of Fire, to all who dwell beneath the Heavens and within the warmth of His Burning Court, hear this declaration and heed it well. From this day henceforth, by Heavenly Mandate of the Eternal Flame, all divine entities shall now be referred to as such:

    * S-rank ¡ª The divine S-rank shall be known as God-Tier, and those among it as Gods. Heavenly power in this Earthly realm. Look not upon God with mundane eyes, nor speak Mortal words in the presence of God.

    * A-rank ¡ª The A-rank shall be known as Demigod-Tier, and those among it as Demigods. They are the emissaries of Gods and their word is law.

    * B-rank ¡ª The lowest of the divine ranks, B-rank shall be known as Ascendant-Tier, and those among it as Ascendants.

    * C-rank ¡ª The highest of the mortal ranks, C-rank shall be known as Exalted-Tier, and those among it as Exalted.

    * D-rank ¡ª The D-rank shall be known as Aspirant-Tier, and those among it as Aspirants.

    * E-rank ¡ª The first rank of import. E-rank shall be known as Nascent-Tier, and those among it as Nascents. They may not be impeded or hindered by lower-tier Mortals in pursuit of their duty.

    * F-rank ¡ª No special disposition or writ shall be afforded F-rank and it shall be known as Mortal-Tier. Those among it are classified as Mortals.

    Let all adherents observe this sacred Decree, for any who speak of the obsolete ranks of the past shall draw upon them the wrath of the Burning Court. The Eternal Flame demands obedience to His word, which is as the Heavens itself¡ªunyielding and everlasting. To defy is to court the Divine Fire that consumes all.

    Thus is it decreed by the Eternal Flame, beneath the gaze of the Burning Court. So it shall be, in word and in deed.

    <hr>

    It was difficult not to feel like a failure.

    Twenty years clawing for respect, scrapping for resources, bargaining for alliances¡ªall dashed to the dirt by the machinations of a single megalomaniac.

    No, Terraform amended, Qui Shen is simply the byproduct of a war thrust upon us unwittingly.

    These beings pulling the strings, gods or demons or cthulic powers, used Awakened like expendable bullets¡ªfire and forget. And they¡¯d turned Earth into just another battlefront for their war.

    He¡¯d consciously pulled away from society for that very reason; created a place that¡ªwhile not utopic¡ªwas certainly better than the alternatives on the surface. Yet, somehow, he¡¯d been dragged back into the politics and violence.

    Well, Qui Shen was about to discover that he was very good at violence.

    Around him was the evidence of two decades of friendship and peace. Four people who despite their raw power, had chosen of their own free will to spend their lives on the hope of saving others.

    Louisa¡ªornery, imperious, arrogant; giving, selfless, powerful above her rank.

    Juliette¡ªobsequious and timid; stronger than she could possibly know, a cornerstone of the Market.

    Marcus¡ªquiet, unambitious; steady, powerful, an anchor to Terraform¡¯s leadership.

    Hunter¡ªtoo content in his shadow; yet, the greatest mind he¡¯d ever come across.

    And then there was himself. Once upon a time, he¡¯d been a coward. No one would ever have dared say so to his face; he had been a tempestuous coward, prone to proving himself with acts of daring violence and reckless risk-taking. It was only after he¡¯d lost everything¡ªbeen exiled in disgrace from his homeland¡ªhad he understood that his bluster and half-cocked tendencies had been a cover for the raw terror that infected his being.

    That was decades ago. He¡¯d rebuilt himself from the ground up, infused the core of his being with integrity and bravery. Now, his center was as solid as the element he controlled.

    He didn¡¯t tremble as they raced toward certain death; didn¡¯t even consider how simple and clean it would be to just flee. Even a half-honest man would see the appeal of guerrilla tactics, hit-and-run attacks, only to flee at the first sign of real danger.

    But a truly honest man, a man of real integrity, wouldn¡¯t fool themselves. Guerrilla tactics wouldn¡¯t save the thousands of refugees angling at a slow crawl toward the surface. Qui Shen¡¯s forces were too large and too powerful for a couple of sneak attacks to shake their progress.

    No, only all-out war would cripple them enough to give Sol and the others a chance.

    He knew all this about himself¡ªand more¡ªas he surveyed his group one last time. Louisa was stirring the ambient aura around her, creating whirlpools of power that belied her A-rank. Hunter had his eyes closed, sharpening his greatest weapon¡ªhis mind. Marcus was readying his aura, preparing to Amplify Terraform to a level beyond mere S-rankers. And Juliette stood by Louisa¡¯s side, helping stir her power like the ladle in a cauldron.

    The mood to address them gripped him from nowhere.

    ¡°There¡¯s no one else I¡¯d rather last stand with.¡±

    Hunter¡¯s eyes drifted open, a slight uptick at the corner of his mouth. Louisa scowled¡ªwhat else would she do?¡ªand ignored him. Juliette faltered in her control, smiling shyly before turning back, ever the diligent apprentice. Marcus placed a steady hand on his shoulder, injecting him with power¡ªbut more than that; confidence, strength, surety.

    Terraform simply nodded, not expecting any other response. They all knew what they were rushing towards; now was not the time for rousing speeches or goodbyes.

    Now was the time for unrestrained, barely-recognize-friend-from-foe, reality-bending¡­violence.

    <hr>

    A human¡¯s aura wasn¡¯t much more complicated than a cat¡¯s, believe it or not. There was just more of it.

    So when Terry began to examine Tania¡¯s aura to replicate what he had seen in Marmalade and Eleanor, there was hypothetically more surface area to cover.

    There was a part of him¡ªa small, practically suicidal part¡ªthat wondered if capturing another cat wouldn¡¯t still be faster. But bringing that up to Tania, after the conversation they just had was¡­well, suicidal.

    Still, he was beginning to realize that this was an entirely different beast. He had to hold her aura structure in his mind, compare it to the snapshot he¡¯d taken of Marmalade, and make the alterations he needed¡ªall without inadvertently crippling or killing his friend.

    He reached out, utilizing his aura to shift hers¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯re sure your Danger Sense will warn you if I do something¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± She sighed, even her newfound outlook reaching the limits of its patience after rehashing the conversation for the fifth time. ¡°I can feel it like a physical sensation. You won¡¯t hurt me, I promise!¡±

    He bit his lip, nodded, flicked his gaze up to her face, then away. He believed her, but believing and knowing were two separate states of mind that he was having difficulty reconciling.

    But at the end of the day, it was her aura, her life¡ªand Tinker, Bloodhound, and Lady were eyeing the crowd with barely-constrained avarice. They were hunting him and he needed to anchor a Skill in order to unlock his Midmark Quest. He didn¡¯t know if it would be something achievable here and now; didn¡¯t even know if it would be a Summons Quest or something completely unrelated to his current predicament.

    All he knew was: every other avenue was firmly shut tight. Better to try and fail than do nothing at all.

    First, he began massaging her aura¡ªmuch like Marlon did with his clay on the pottery wheel¡ªworking more by feel than anything. Her aura was rigid at first, and he had to put a bit more effort in to get the same effect he had with the cats. But he must have hit some threshold because her aura shape suddenly folded, drawing in upon itself in an approximation of the shape he was trying for.

    She winced as if in pain and he stopped everything, his eyes widening. She shook her head, putting on a half-smile.

    ¡°You¡¯re fine. Just felt¡­weird.¡±

    He pulled back. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t do this. I¡¯ll find another way¡ª¡±

    She clamped down on his arm, her smile melting, fire in her eyes. ¡°Terry. Stop. I¡¯m just getting used to the sensation, that¡¯s all.¡±

    He hesitated, eyeing her, searching for a hint of deception, any chip in the facade of her tough-girl act. But this was Tania¡ªonce she made up her mind, she¡¯d never back down out of fear or trepidation.

    So he nodded, turning his attention back to her aura.

    She noticeably eased up as he worked, her aura relaxing in step with her body, the tension draining out of her as she realized her Danger Sense wasn¡¯t triggering.

    He fell into her aura, the mold shifting under his direction with increasing ease. Everything else fell away: time, her unconscious squirming, the crick in his neck¡ªall of it. Only the images in his mind and the feel of her shifting aura.

    Some unknown amount of time passed when he felt something tugging at his arm. Then, an insistent voice in his ear.

    He rose from the depths of his concentration like a diver reaching the surface.

    ¡°Terry,¡± Tania hissed. ¡°Terry! Something¡¯s happening!¡±

    His head shot up, following her finger, a fog constricting his mind. As it cleared, he recognized the Council supers staring toward them, somehow piercing past the hundreds of refugees in the interim.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Terry released Tania¡¯s aura, preparing to activate his Master of Light in an attempt to slip out of sight and into the crowd, when a blur of motion whipped past him.

    Something solid, firm as stone, gripped him by the neck. A voice whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

    ¡°You¡¯re my bargaining chip, kid. Don¡¯t struggle. He didn¡¯t mention anything about catching you alive.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind raced to understand, only able to focus on the voice for a split second before he was picked up and carried across the stone floor at high speeds.

    It was Rupert, the A-ranked Duelist who had nearly killed him on the bridge above the Pits.

    ¡°Terry!¡± Tania called from behind him, her voice fading as he was ferried away from her.

    A blink later, he was deposited on the floor, his feet unsteady as he tried to catch his balance. His mask was pulled from his face, the grip on his neck still ironclad.

    ¡°I bring you, the Chameleon,¡± Rupert declared, his tone self-satisfied. ¡°Apparently, his name is Terry.¡± He shrugged, thumbing over his shoulder. ¡°One of his accomplices is back there.¡±

    Before him, Sol¡¯s mouth gaped open, his eyes wide with anger as he stared daggers at the Duelist.

    But Terry¡¯s attention was pulled toward Tinker, the S-ranker¡¯s mask locked in on him, unmoving.

    His voice echoed through his power armor, full of disbelief.

    ¡°Terry¡­Fairway?¡±

    <hr>

    Fifty Stone Elementalists ranging from two dozen lowly Mortals all the way up to a singular Demigod manifested their element to mobilize the largest Awakened army the North American continent had seen since the clash between Dancer and Tempest forty years ago.

    The Demigod in charge of the Stone Elementalists was named H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡ªknown on HeroWatch as Enduring Rock¡ªand was very much aware that the only thing that separated him and the fires of the Eternal Flame was the speed with which he directed their procession.

    It didn¡¯t matter if they transitioned from shale to granite; they were expected to continue apace.

    No, he was expected to continue apace. The Burning One was not prone to accepting excuses, nor explanations, regardless of their validity.

    As a result, it was his directive to maintain a¡­less than maximum speed to account for any density differentials encountered unexpectedly. Should they run into a vein of tougher material, they would increase their power output and bull through such that He did not have reason to notice their existence.

    So it was with some consternation that H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had been forced to maintain one hundred percent power output for the past thirty minutes¡ªwith no break in sight. A simpler man might have blamed bad luck, the gods, or the incompetence of his men and women. But H¨¦ng Sh¨ª knew where there was smoke, there was fire.

    For the tenth time, he extended his senses outward, scanning for signs of that one. The preeminent user of his element, the man who had reached the pinnacle of Stone Elementalism.

    A man H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had idolized for most of his adult life. A man who he was now convinced approached just outside the range of his perception, hampering his team¡¯s progress, fanning the flames licking at H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s toes.

    There were two paths as H¨¦ng Sh¨ª saw it¡ªone, he and his team could continue full bore, punching through stone and supernatural resistance with all their power and hope that the Stone God¡ªTerraform, as he was now known¡ªtired before the fifty of them.

    Or¡­option two¡ªhe could break off from his team and triangulate the God-Tier Elementalist¡¯s position, forcing a confrontation between the Eternal Flame and the Stone God. The chances were high that any such battle would result in the death of his team as collateral¡ªif not himself, as well.

    But in his secret heart, death by stone was more honorable, more earthly, than the kiss of flame.

    He centered himself with a deep breath, feeling his energy course through his limbs in time with his lungs. Then, he sent Mei a System message.

    <blockquote>

    [H¨¦ng Sh¨ª, servant of the Eternal Flame]: My dearest, the time has come. Should I dishonor myself, flee across the water with Chen. I love you, my flower.

    </blockquote>

    Her response came back instantly, but he didn¡¯t read it right away, savoring it for when he might need it the most.

    His heart was pounding now and he was sure his men could hear it beating in his neck. He forced one more calming breath in, then crafted another message with just as much painstaking care, but no love.

    This one went to Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§¡ªotherwise known by the west as Bone Breaker.

    <blockquote>

    [H¨¦ng Sh¨ª, servant of the Eternal Flame]: Lord, I believe the Exiled One approaches. If I break off from the excavation, I might be able to determine his location.

    </blockquote>

    He read and reread the message seven times for luck, then rewrote one word, switching might be to will be. Experience told him that even a single misspoken word had dire consequences in the court of the Eternal Flame.

    In a moment that seemed to defy time, his mental command to send the System message was in lockstep with the whoosh of air that ruffled his clothes. After many years in His Excellency¡¯s court, H¨¦ng Sh¨ª knew better than to flinch, but could not hide the flutter of his heart or the hairs standing on his neck.

    Behind him, he sensed Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ mere inches from his back, his breath hot against H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s neck.

    He quickly bowed¡ªeven without looking¡ªcasting his eyes to the stone and drawing his aura in tight so as to not offend or appear to challenge the Bone Breaker.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ was God-Tier¡ªan S-ranker in the west¡ªand was therefore privileged to kill, maim, or do worse, to a Demigod-Tier Awakened such as H¨¦ng Sh¨ª. The mere fact that H¨¦ng Sh¨ª was the highest-ranking Stone Elementalist deep underground and a thousand miles from home meant less than nothing; punishment could be long, slow, and deferred until whenever was convenient.

    Not to mention his wife and son who were back at the staging area two hundred miles west or his extended family held hostage back in Asia.

    He¡¯d rather die a million deaths than have his entire lineage face the wrath of the Eternal Flame.

    ¡°Stand.¡±

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§¡¯s voice was like tectonic plates shifting, a low rumble that H¨¦ng Sh¨ª felt in his gut. He rose as commanded, facing the God-Tier Duelist with eyes averted. The Bone Breaker was the biggest man H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had ever seen. That much was clear just from staring at his calves, which were thicker than H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s thighs. And they stretched up impossibly high, Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§¡¯s knees nearly at H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s waist.

    But it wasn¡¯t his musculature that made him a living legend, nor his towering height.

    Grinding into the ground was his System-given weapon¡ªa two-meter tall club that seemed to be cast from H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s own element. But his senses confirmed that it was not stone. Rumor suggested Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ had slain a dragon or some alien demon while Summoned for his Capstone Quest. His club was purported to be the femur¡ªor some other limb bone¡ªof that unearthly creature.

    He hefted that bone club now, propping it against his shoulder in a blur that made H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s balls clench.

    If the killing blow were to come by the Bone Breaker, I¡¯d never have time to warn Mei¡­

    For once, he actually longed for the flames.

    ¡°The Gu¨°ji¨¥ L¨£osh¨³ is near?¡± The rat that runs across the street¡­despised by all.

    Saliva pooled in his mouth and he was forced to swallow lest he tried to answer and drool over himself. His audible gulp would have shamed him once, many decades past. Now, he leaned into his obvious terror, forcing a small quaver in his voice as he responded.

    He knew that he had made his gamble by summoning Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ over and there was no backing out now.

    ¡°Yes, Lord. I sense resistance pushing against my power¡ª¡±

    The club shifted and H¨¦ng Sh¨ª stopped speaking, stopped moving¡ªdidn¡¯t even dare take a breath.

    ¡°Your power?¡± Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ scoffed¡ªa sound that drew side-eyes from his nearby subordinates; they understood that that scoff had been the precursor to many, many, deaths. ¡°A hundred of you grubby earth worms shifting away at this dirt. My Breaker¡ª¡± He hefted his club in one hand, holding it high above his head. H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s gaze darted up between his eyelashes, watching to see if that club was coming down to break him. His pre-crafted message to Mei hung ready to be sent with a thought. ¡°¡ªcould dig faster than you scum¡ª¡±

    ¡°G¨³¡­¡± A sibilant hiss whispered across the traveling court. Breaths held, sphincters clenched, eyes closed involuntarily¡ªthe very air seemed to still.

    And the temperature in the large excavated tunnel shifted five degrees hotter.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ was not immune to this effect, the arm holding his club clenching as he gripped its handle tighter. A scowl flickered across his face, his eyes burning with unconcealed hate for the slightest of moments, before he slipped his mask back into place.

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª spotted the open contempt, of course, but wasn¡¯t affected by it in the slightest. Though a single tier separated him and Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§, that tier was a gulf as wide as the ocean, as deep as the inky black that separated Earth from the Heavens. He could no more bridge that divide with a word in His Excellency¡¯s ear than he could leap to the moon.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ let his club drop into his free hand, then turned on his heels and bowed toward the god reclining upon his palanquin. Walls of white fire burned around the edges of the palanquin, blocking the Eternal Flame from view. A single, pale hand stretched forward, parting the flame with a wave of aura that burned like the sun.

    ¡°Approach¡­H¨¦ng Sh¨ª.¡±

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ moved in a blur, seeming to disappear, then reappear, at the base of the palanquin, where his own Royal Seat was carried by lesser Duelists.

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª also moved quickly, utilizing small, discreet bursts of his aura to propel his feet forward on the stone. In mere seconds, he was kneeling before the Eternal Flame¡¯s palanquin, his head bowed low.

    A whisper sounded in his ear, causing his breath to catch. No, he realized, not a whisper. His senses picked up on the aura a moment later, though he knew better than to follow it back to its source.

    You may step into the flames, the voice whispered in his mind.

    His thoughts faltered, even as his feet moved of their own accord. He was up the palanquin steps, nearing the wall of white-hot flame before his thoughts caught up to him.

    Not in twenty years had he been invited within the flames. Never had the Eternal Flame¡¯s Hypnotist spoken in his mind.

    He found himself suddenly in a panic.

    If she rips my thoughts from my mind, all is lost! Chen¡­Mei¡­

    There was nothing to be done, no other course of action. Hesitation now would mean a slow, burning death¡ªif he was lucky.

    So he reached forward, the heat nearly unbearable, the hairs on his hand curling, burning¡ªhe was burning¡­

    ¡­Then, his hand touched the fire and the pain ceased. He took another step forward, engulfing his entire arm, then his torso. All it took was a second step and he was past the opaque wall of flame.

    Lounging across a bed of cushions¡­was an old man. Pale, wrinkly skin that sagged against thin limbs; a freckled scalp crisscrossed with wisps of white hair that did little to hide sickly flesh; eyes darting, milky white, finding nothing.

    Qui Shen, known as the Eternal Flame among his subjects, the Incinerator among his enemies, the undisputed ruler of most of Asia and the most feared man in the world¡­

    ¡­Was a blind, frail-looking, old man.

    That wasn¡¯t to say he was weak¡ªfar from it. His aura was brighter than the sun, dense and yet flaring out wide to encompass everything around him. Just looking at him with his senses physically pained H¨¦ng Sh¨ª.

    Still, he had never observed His Excellency without his flame armor¡ªand now he understood why.

    Aura notwithstanding, the Eternal Flame looked more like H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s aging grandfather than the ruler of a billion people.

    He was quick to mask his thoughts, his eyes flicking to the woman standing at the Eternal Flame¡¯s shoulder. A God-Tier Hypnotist was said to be able to read surface thoughts without effort and rip away deeper thoughts and emotions with nothing but a simple sweep of their aura.

    His knees had never struck the ground harder, his forehead practically cracking against the marble floor of the palanquin. It calmed his nerves to be in contact with his element, grounded him in a way that almost tricked him into thinking he could survive this day.

    Heat washed across his body as the Eternal Flame spoke.

    ¡°Report¡­¡±

    The air felt dry, his throat burning. He almost wished he could drool now, just to stave off the heat clutching at his throat.

    ¡°Your¡ªahem¡ªYour Excellency, pardon this one¡¯s miserly presence. As I reported to Lord Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§, I¡­ah, believe that the Exiled One is near. My team, ah, meets resistance that cannot be accounted for by mere stone density.¡±

    His mind churned, every word he¡¯d uttered second-guessed, every syllable sounding weak, incompetent, to his own ears.

    The temperature increased again, and H¨¦ng Sh¨ª watched as sweat began to drip down his nose, splatter against the stone into little pools.

    He felt aura pass between the Hypnotist and His Excellency, but did not dare taste its flavor with his own aura¡ªno matter how much he yearned to know what they silently discussed.

    Moments that felt like hours ticked by, the sweat slipping into his eyes, blinding him. He blinked them away as best he could, knowing that to reach a hand to wipe away the sting could very likely result in his death.

    Then, the silence parted like a cool breeze whispering among tall grass.

    ¡°How certain¡­are you?¡±

    The question threw the already flustered H¨¦ng Sh¨ª off and his mind scrambled to process those words.

    ¡°Very, ahem, absolutely certain, Your Excellency.¡±

    Another wave of aura passed between them. Then, the woman spoke, her voice full of danger, as if she knew the answer to her question before asking and were simply testing his truthfulness.

    ¡°How many could you slip past his net without him realizing it?¡±

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s mind was a storm, his thoughts a ship tossed across the towering waves. How many could I slip past¡­? They intended a sneak attack? But on whom? The Stone God!?

    He could flank¡ªmaybe¡ªbut he could never launch a sneak attack inside the Stone God¡¯s own element.

    ¡°Yes, we intend a sneak attack,¡± the woman said. Had I spoken out loud? ¡°But not on the Exiled One.¡± She leaned in, her eyes seeming to burrow into his very thoughts, penetrating like needles under fingernails. ¡°You will ferry His Excellency, myself, and a strike team past the net¡­straight toward the refugees fleeing for the surface.¡±

    What? Why? He couldn¡¯t make sense of it. Hostages? The Stone God would never cede the Divinity for mere human lives¡ªnot to the Eternal Flame, at least.

    The woman smiled¡ªa cruel expression on her face, her cheekbones sharp, practically pushing through the skin.

    ¡°We have it on good authority that the Exiled One no longer possesses the Divinity.¡±

    The Eternal Flame leaned forward and she stopped speaking out of respect, pulling back to her full height.

    ¡°Gu¨°ji¨¥ L¨£osh¨³ has passed the Divinity¡­to a weak¡­broken¡­former god.¡± Red fire flamed to life behind His eyes, giving him a demonic visage. ¡°Get me to him¡­undetected¡­and you will join¡­my court¡­¡±

 B2 - Chapter 18: Misdirection

    The plan was clear, precise, and absolutely insane.

    Qui Shen was the ultimate target¡ªthat much was obvious. If they could take him off the board, Sol and the refugees had a chance should it come down to a fight. So their formation was angled like a dagger, designed to pierce the outer skin of the army and penetrate to the core.

    Terraform¡¯s senses couldn¡¯t range fully across the moving force¡ªnot without revealing himself inadvertently. But what little aura he could infuse into the stone that surrounded their enemies was enough to get a rough gauge of their numbers and power.

    Latest word from across the ocean was that Qui Shen¡¯s court was comprised of three S-rankers, beside the man himself¡ªXiang Hao, Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§, and a third unnamed S-ranker who was nonetheless reported to be his closest confidante.

    Terraform was personally familiar with the first two¡ªhad been their elders, once upon a time. Xiang Hao was an S-ranking Summoner whose thralls had been spectral animals of the jungle¡ªcrocodiles, tigers, and more. Upon achieving S-rank, he had adopted the name Xiang Hao, in honor of the penultimate summon he employed¡ªthe mighty elephant.

    He was less concerned with Hao, as his towering summon would be difficult to harness in the tight confines of the tunnel and would be just as likely to impede friend as trample foe.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ was the one that concerned Terraform the most. As young men, Terraform had lorded over G¨³, flexing his power ruthlessly as he had ranked up. He suspected G¨³ would have turned into the sadistic man he was today without Terraform¡¯s bullying, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel partially responsible for the reign of terror the man had instituted in the decades since Terraform had been exiled.

    And an S-ranked Duelist was always a powerful threat, demonstrating strength and speed that could be blinding and unstoppable.

    The final S-ranker was supposed to be a Hypnotist, but no further word of confirmation had escaped Asia. All he knew for certain was that she was a woman, and had garnered the ear of Qui Shen over the past years.

    A high-ranking Hypnotist was almost as terrifying as a high-ranking Duelist. Depending on her specialty, she might be capable of trapping his team in her Mind World, turning friend to foe with thought implantation, or even shatter weaker minds outright.

    She would need to be countered if his team were to survive the opening salvo. Though Hunter was a prodigy of mental warfare, only Marcus Amplifying him would make the battlefield level.

    And Terraform needed that power boost to strike at Qui Shen.

    Hunter understood that his role was to buy seconds of distraction from the mysterious Hypnotist¡ªeven sixty seconds would be a blessing. It meant a death Terraform wouldn¡¯t wish upon his worst enemies¡ªlet alone one of his closest friends. His mind would be shattered irreparably, reducing a brilliant man into a drooling sack of flesh, trapped inside his own body but helpless to act.

    All Terraform could promise was that he would seek to kill Hunter as his final act and spare him further torture should they fail.

    Louisa and Juliette were tasked with containing Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ and Xiang Hao, two powerful A-rankers poised against the towering strength of S-rankers. All to buy Terraform the time he needed to strike.

    It would have to be enough.

    From high above the traveling army, Terraform split the stone roof with a silent flex of power. The five of them abseiled down on gossamer strands of glass, approaching Qui Shen¡¯s moving palanquin from above.

    In a split second, his mind took in the entire scene; G¨³ lounging on his small throne at the base of the palanquin on one side; on the other, Xiang Hao rode an ephemeral tiger that seemed to hover over the ground; dozens of men and women labored with aura to cut through the unyielding stone; another couple hundred marched in lock step behind Qui Shen¡¯s palanquin.

    And then there was the square of impenetrable flames, white-hot and opaque to his eyes. Aura gushed from somewhere¡ªan Artifact, he guessed¡ªto fuel the curtain of flame that obscured all sight into Qui Shen¡¯s palanquin. The aura was so dense, Terraform couldn¡¯t penetrate it with his senses.

    No matter; he didn¡¯t need to see his foe to strike.

    With a subtle shift of his power, he moved Juliette and Louisa¡¯s strand of glass so that they¡¯d land among Xiang Hao and Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§. Another shift brought Hunter and Marcus within touching range as they continued to fall upon their prey like spiders on a web.

    Marcus¡¯ hand clasped his shoulder. Power rushed into him, filling his reserves until they felt ready to burst. Then, more power. He felt submerged in it, his aura billowing out, encompassing the stone and earth around him for a dozen miles.

    Rather than let it spread, he pulled it in tight, drawing his aura to him in a condensed wave. The stone shivered in response, resonating on a level of harmony Terraform had dreamed of, but rarely experienced. It rose to meet him, rising around the edges of the palanquin like a living entity.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ and Xian Hao felt the rush of power as well, looking toward each other in confusion, but not thinking to glance up; no one ever looked up.

    The shifting stone had the quality of a rising wave more than anything as it rose up around the edges of the moving platform. As it continued to rise, Terraform met it, felt it morph around his body like a suit of armor.

    He crashed through the flame a moment later, spearing through it toward where Qui Shen and his Hypnotist would be.

    As soon as he penetrated the supernatural flames of the Artifact, he recognized something was amiss. Hunter¡¯s voice called out at same time, confirming what his senses told him.

    ¡°There¡¯s no one there!¡±

    Louisa and Juliette hit the other S-rankers in a wave of boiling aura, drowning them for a split second in its sheer depth. Xiang Hao¡¯s spectral tiger dissipated, the tie between master and thrall severed by the sudden burst of energy.  G¨³ was stunned by the power for a moment, but shook his head with a snort¡ªlike an enraged bull missing its target.

    Then, his giant club smashed into the ground, ripping up stone like the shift of a quake. Terraform diverted his power to settle the earth around Juliette and Louisa, but pushed most of his attention into the surrounding tunnel, searching for Qui Shen¡¯s signature.

    All around them, the lesser ranked Awakened looked on in confusion and terror; to them, this was a battle between gods¡ªnot the place of mere mortals.

    With a flick of his eyes, he directed Hunter to help Juliette and Louisa while he continued to examine the stone and the Awakened around them.

    There is a chance the Hypnotist obscures my senses, he thought, but the alternative scares me even more¡­

    But there was no time to hedge¡ªthe two enemy S-rankers would be more than enough to slaughter his team if he didn¡¯t intervene. Marcus¡¯ power continued to surge into him, propelling him to heights he¡¯d only experienced while attempting to digest the Singularity.

    With a thought, the stone moved, entwining Xiang Hao¡¯s body even as his namesake materialized. A portal cut through the air, a hundred feet tall, and a powerful elephant smashed through it, tusks flaring wildly in anticipation.

    Terraform crossed the distance toward Hao in a split second, whispering in his ear in Mandarin.

    ¡°Get rid of it.¡± He punctuated the order with a flex of aura, squeezing Hao tight enough to suck the breath from his lungs.

    Xiang Hao¡¯s eyes bugged out, the defiance melting away under Terraform¡¯s steady gaze. A moment later, the elephant trumpeted once in rage, then retreated back into the portal from where it had come.

    G¨³ had recovered his club from the earth and was physically pushing against the aura arrayed against him by Juliette and Louisa, even as Hunter assaulted his mind. It was clear that the three of them were losing and the gigantic Duelist would break free from their attack at any moment.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Terraform stirred the stone beneath G¨³¡¯s feet, emulsifying it until it took on a tar-like viscosity. The man began to sink, his feet disappearing, then his shins. As he realized the stone was sucking him under, his focus shifted, giving the others a chance to regain the momentum, pressing the attack on both his mind and aura.

    Across the wide tunnel where Qui Shen¡¯s army marched, the commanders had finally spurred their troops into a semblance of a counterattack. Terraform flexed the stone around the palanquin, forming an army of glass and rock golems that rose from the earth like specters. A hundred, then two hundred, then five hundred golems formed a defensive ring, glass spears and swords leveled in threat.

    G¨³ slipped deeper into the stone now, his eyes going wild as he fought his descent in pure animal panic. Terraform hardened the pool of liquid stone, solidifying the Duelist inside a rock prison.

    If anyone could break free, it was an S-ranked Duelist like G¨³. But it would take time and effort¡ªand certainly wouldn¡¯t be possible with Hunter invading his mind.

    With the two S-rankers subdued, Terraform finally had a moment to panic.

    He sent Sol a System message, praying he wasn¡¯t too late.

    <hr>

    Space still broiled and bucked in the Market, but Marlon had been able to quell it enough to portal out. He felt his babies through their connection, slipping away slowly in his perception. But when he tried to bridge space to connect them, he felt a powerful lock blocking his efforts.

    He sent a message to Terry, but growled in frustration a moment later when the boy didn¡¯t reply.

    Another message went to Terraform¡ªif he couldn¡¯t rejoin the refugees, he could at least assist in the fight with Qui Shen¡¯s army, broken legs or not.

    But to his annoyance, it seemed Terraform and the others had everything in hand.

    If I¡¯m forced to live, can I at least get another fight in!

    As he reached out toward the location Terraform sent him, there was no restriction blocking his powers. After a moment of questing, he sensed the ocean of power that was Terraform and opened space between them.

    He was propped against a rock, his broken legs splayed out before him. Rather than stand to walk through his portal, he simply angled it beneath him, allowing himself to slid through it.

    When he appeared on the other side, he was more than a bit confused by the scene before him.

    A thousand Awakened were arrayed in ranks, kneeling toward a single person. High above them all, Terraform stood on a stone pillar, regarding them stoically.

    Behind him, a familiar voice spoke.

    ¡°That¡¯s just what his ego needs.¡±

    Marlon craned his neck around, wincing as the pain flared in his legs. Louisa stood nearby, her arms crossed, a characteristic scowl on her face.

    He grunted in reply.

    ¡°Skipper dead, then?¡± the woman asked gruffly, her tone implying that anything less would have been shameful.

    He grunted again.

    ¡°Better than he deserved,¡± she replied.

    Looking up to meet her eye, he grunted a third time but with a much more agreeable tone.

    She looked down at him, snorting humorlessly. Her eyes tracked over his bent legs.

    ¡°You¡¯ll live?¡± There was no charity in her tone, but he understood her well enough to sense the concern beneath the stony demeanor.

    He resisted the urge to grunt a fourth time.

    ¡°If I have to.¡±

    She nodded icily, her eyes tracking over his head. He followed her gaze to see two men encased in stone up to their chins.

    ¡°Yes, Marlon. I think you¡¯ll have to. There¡¯s still work to be done.¡±

    He sighed, turning to watch Terraform as the man drifted down from his pillar on a strand of glass. His eyes found Marlon, a slight smile touching his face.

    ¡°Good to see you alive, Marlon.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t the plan,¡± he replied. ¡°But Skipper wasn¡¯t up to the task.¡±

    Terraform chuckled, crouching down to put a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad, even if you¡¯re not.¡±

    Marlon grunted in reply, then nodded toward the kneeling army.

    ¡°Why¡¯d they lose their spine so fast?¡± He looked around the large excavated cavern. ¡°Hardly seems like they put up a fight.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t!¡±

    Juliette came into sight, a wide smile on her face.

    ¡°Soon as Terraform subdued the S-rankers, they folded!¡±

    Terraform nodded. ¡°Qui Shen¡¯s fostered this idea that S-rankers are gods. The lower ranks don¡¯t even dare meet their eyes half the time. The thought of fighting me without their S-rankers leading would be a sort of blasphemy.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a small piece of luck, I suppose,¡± Marlon said.

    Juliette came around from behind to stand beside Terraform when she saw Marlon¡¯s twisted legs. Her smile melted instantly. ¡°Marlon, dear! You¡¯re hurt!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t fuss, Juliette.¡± He softened his tone a bit so as not to hurt her feelings. ¡°War¡¯s not over.¡± He turned toward Terraform, flint in his voice. ¡°Where¡¯s Qui Shen?¡±

    Terraform¡¯s face darkened. ¡°We think he went ahead to catch the others.¡±

    Marlon felt the anger brewing deep in his chest. ¡°How did he know you wouldn¡¯t have the Singularity?¡±

    Terraform gave him a meaningful stare and Marlon slammed his fist into the ground.

    ¡°That slimy bastard.¡±

    Terraform nodded once. ¡°Can you get us there?¡±

    Marlon scowled, feeling out into space once more. They were closer now and he could see the space around the refugees in his mind. A heavy blanket lay over the surrounding area, sturdy and powerful. He could tell from its static nature that it was an Artifact rather than a Traveler. And from its strength, it had the feel of an S-ranker¡¯s handiwork.

    ¡°There¡¯s an Artifact blocking travel.¡± He grimaced, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He hated others playing with his domain. ¡°Maybe if we get close enough, I can push through.¡± He shook his head. ¡°But not here.¡±

    Terraform sighed, glancing back at the two imprisoned S-rankers.

    ¡°We can¡¯t leave them. They¡¯ll rally the army and be on our heels.¡±

    ¡°Just kill them, Terraform!¡± Louisa growled.

    Marlon felt himself reluctantly agreeing with the woman.

    But Terraform¡¯s face darkened.

    ¡°I don¡¯t execute prisoners, Louisa. You know that.¡±

    ¡°Even when the fate of the world hangs in the balance?¡± Her voice was quiet, but full of steel.

    Terraform held her gaze for a moment, then looked back toward the prisoners. Marlon could feel the indecision through the set of his shoulders.

    Then, he stood straighter, turning to face them.

    ¡°Let me try one more thing. If that doesn¡¯t work.¡± His eyes flashed with magic, the aura all around them shifting sympathetically. ¡°I¡¯ll kill them myself.¡±

    <hr>

    Terry¡¯s heart fluttered in his chest. Rupert gripped him by the upper arm and neck, his fingers digging in painfully tight. He was forced forward by the irresistible strength of the A-ranker.

    The shock in Tinker¡¯s voice gave way to pure anger as he appeared to process the revelation of Terry¡¯s identity.

    ¡°I knew James was playing me! That look in his eye¡ªhe was relieved when you got away.¡±

    Terry had been distracted by Rupert¡¯s painful grip, but Tinker¡¯s words snagged on his thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m not working for my father,¡± he said. ¡°And definitely not for the Emperor.¡±

    Tinker¡¯s steel mask stared back impassively for a moment, then irised away, revealing the man¡¯s face.

    ¡°I find that hard to believe.¡± His eyes flicked toward Sol, his voice curious. ¡°Though I do wonder at your connection with all of this, Sol.¡±

    Sol¡¯s face was unreadable to Terry, but the man¡¯s limbs visibly trembled, his eyes seeming lost as they stared toward the middle space between him and Rupert.

    Tinker seemed to notice something amiss as well, but decided not to press the man. His eyes traced over Terry, stopping on Rupert¡¯s grip on his arm.

    ¡°You can release the boy, Mr. Olivier.¡± His eyes trailed up toward Terry¡¯s, a solid certainty lying there. ¡°He¡¯s nowhere to run to now.¡±

    The grip on his arm and neck eased, but didn¡¯t release. Tinker¡¯s eyes flashed up toward Rupert.

    ¡°Uh, pardon, but I think we should be moving.¡± There was a hint of hurry in Rupert¡¯s voice. ¡°I¡¯ll hold onto the boy just in case he gets any ideas.¡±

    Tinker¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    ¡°We are moving.¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, but I mean us. You have your fugitive.¡± Rupert shook Terry¡ªhard; rattled him like a kid with a Christmas present trying to guess what was inside. He felt like his brain ricocheted in his skull and he had to push down the nausea threatening to rise. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to delay and¡ª¡± He looked around as if checking for eavesdroppers. ¡°¡ªwe can¡¯t let Qui Shen get his hands on the Singularity.¡±

    Bloodhound crossed his arms, his eyes boring into Rupert.

    ¡°Thought you didn¡¯t believe in the Singularities.¡± He turned to Lady with raised eyebrows. ¡°You remember what he said?¡±

    Lady pursed her lips and nodded.

    ¡°I believe the words he used were: flaccid justifications of the Originals to justify their wars.¡±

    Bloodhound snapped his fingers, turning back to Rupert.

    ¡°Flaccid. What an interesting choice of words.¡± Judging from the up-and-down look he gave the man, the implication was clear enough.

    Terry felt Rupert tense, fingernails digging into his flesh. He tried not to squirm, but the pain was ramping, the muscles in his arms and neck tensing to protect themselves. Even with his Physical Attributes in the high Es, that was nothing in the face of an A-ranking Duelist.

    ¡°I warned you!¡± Rupert hissed. ¡°I warned you not to disrespect me!¡±

    Bloodhound stepped forward and a moment later, the fire team that had been lounging out of earshot perked up, weapons shifting in anticipation.

    ¡°Boys,¡± Lady scolded.

    ¡°Everyone stop. I just got a message¡ª¡± Sol¡¯s voice was low, lost in the bluster between the A-rankers.

    ¡°I could rip all your heads off before you could blink!¡± Rupert growled to the fireteam behind Bloodhound.

    Blades flashed into Bloodhound¡¯s hands, curved kukri held loosely as he eyed Rupert.

    But all Terry could focus on was the grip around his neck. Blood pounded behind his eyes as the pressure increased.

    Sol¡¯s skin began to glow, but Terry¡¯s world was narrowing in, the darkness closing around his vision.

    Tinker put out an armored hand, taking a step forward. ¡°Calm down, Mr. Olivier.¡±

    Rupert¡¯s eyes flicked toward the Artificer, then down to the blades in Bloodhound¡¯s hands.

    ¡°Tell him to put the blades away!¡±

    ¡°Bloodhound,¡± Tinker said. ¡°Don¡¯t escalate.¡±

    Terry¡¯s hand was pulling against the grip on his neck, but it was like digging at steel. His vision faded, the strength in his arm sapped away.

    A blast of blinding light seared his eyes and he groaned in pain and shock. The hands holding him tight let go, his knees cracking against the stone. He coughed violently now that the pressure on his neck was gone, but even in his rough state, he heard the words Sol said next.

    ¡°Do I have your attention now!¡± he growled. ¡°Terraform just messaged me. Qui Shen is gone.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, gone?¡± Tinker asked. ¡°He¡¯s turned around?¡±

    Terry blinked away the spots in his eyes, glancing up to see the naked worry on Sol¡¯s face.

    ¡°No. His army is still coming straight for us. But he seems to have sneaked away.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Lady asked. ¡°Why?¡±

    Then, the screams started.

 B2 - Chapter 19: Ultimatum

    Something pinged in the back of Terry¡¯s mind. A thought worming its way through the fog and the phantom screams echoing in his ears.

    I¡¯m alive¡­

    Then, the sound of blood rushing in his head faded and he realized suddenly that the screams he heard weren¡¯t phantom screams.

    His head shot up, taking in the panicking crowd in an instant.

    The mass of refugees rippled, recoiling from some unseen thing, like a herd fleeing the wolves in their midst.

    A pulse of aura flashed out from that unseen epicenter, extending like talons over the crowd, gripping them tight, yanking them to heel like a leash. The screaming cut off instantly, but the terror remained.

    The entire group of nearly a thousand people suddenly stood rigid, but Terry could see their eyes flitting about wildly, searching for their attacker with an animal panic.

    Hands gripped under his arms and for a moment, he thought Rupert was latching his iron grip on him once more. He started to buck against the Duelist, when he spotted Tania standing over him, her eyes wide with concern.

    ¡°It¡¯s him,¡± she hissed, unable to hide the terror in her voice. ¡°My Danger Sense didn¡¯t warn me until right before.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind felt sluggish and it took him a moment to realize what she meant by ¡®him.¡¯ But as the realization hit, the man himself stepped into sight, and Terry felt his stomach drop.

    Pure white flame wreathed Qui Shen as he stepped into view. His features were obscured, just the barest silhouette visible through the blinding fire. The frozen refugees visibly sweat as he passed them, the heat of his presence forcing their eyes shut. A second wave of power stretched out¡ªnot from Qui Shen, but from somewhere among the refugees¡ªwashing over the crowd. Wherever the aura passed, people knelt and bowed their heads.

    The compulsion struck their group a moment later, but the distance sucked most of the strength from its call. All the same, Terry felt his limbs trying to move, his mind cowering in awe at the flaming god striding toward him.

    He forced the thoughts away, then rose unsteadily to his feet. Tania swayed at his side, clearly affected by the compulsion, but he pushed his aura out, dampening the effect. She shook her head to clear it, then scowled toward Qui Shen.

    The flames shined bright, searing across his vision. His eyes watered but he wouldn¡¯t let himself look away. Aura shifted around Qui Shen and for a moment, Terry thought he might skip the parlay and dive right into the fight.

    There was nothing someone at his rank could do¡ªhe could only brace and wait for the heat.

    But a moment later, the flames seemed to shift to his eyes, the aura shaping it visibly. The sound of crackling fire coalesced into a voice, deep and violent, like the whoosh of sparks as a log split from the bonfire¡¯s heat.

    ¡°You know who I am. You know what I¡¯ve come for.¡± His mouth¡ªbarely visible beneath the white flames¡ªdidn¡¯t move with the sound. Somehow, he was manipulating the fire itself to speak. ¡°Relinquish it and we shall have no quarrel.¡±

    Terry was stunned by the words; Qui Shen was offering a trade? It was simple enough, he supposed. Their lives¡ªand the lives of every civilian here¡ªin exchange for the Singularity.

    He looked toward Sol and Tinker to gauge their reaction.

    Tinker¡¯s mask lay open, revealing the weathered face beneath. He licked his lips nervously, his large power armor doing little to hide the obvious doubt in his posture.

    But when Terry looked toward Sol, he was surprised by the steady glint in his eyes, the magic coursing through them in golden waves. His aura pulsed powerfully, cycling around him like a tide pool.

    He¡¯s preparing for a fight, Terry realized.

    Behind Tinker, Bloodhound, Lady, and Rupert appeared to be shifting through various levels of fear and doubt. Bloodhound had the resigned look of a man beyond his depth, but willing to face whatever came next. Lady stared toward Tinker with the desperate focus of a child waiting for their parents to step in. Rupert was openly panicking, glancing between Tinker and Sol fitfully.

    A handful of seconds passed, then Tinker spoke.

    ¡°We know you, Qui Shen. But we don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve¡ª¡±

    Sol¡¯s voice cut across the cavern.

    ¡°You¡¯ve come for this.¡±

    A wave of power washed over Terry, filling him with a sense of rightness, a vibration that resonated with his aura. Something called to him, pulled at his attention.

    His gaze shot toward Sol, where the Metaphysical Singularity floated between his palms.

    <hr>

    Two people sat in silence in a pitch-black cave, one condensing his aura, cycling it through his limbs to increase their strength and hardiness. The other, taming the infected Singularity nestled deep in her chest.

    Slowly, she passed her senses over the tainted object, feeling the chaos like splinters sticking up from rough wood. When she found them, she focused her aura into a thin point, gripped the splinter¡¯s edge, and pulled it free.

    Another chaos burr was removed, then eradicated with a flex of her aura.

    Her father had passed over the Spectral Singularity months ago¡ªshe was better equipped as an Alterant and former Disruptor to peel away the chaos riddled through its make up. But it still resisted her, insidious in the way it wove throughout the Singularity¡ªeven more difficult to purge than the parasitic being that had been her System.

    As she thought about her former System, her only regret was that she could no longer use her System chat. If she still had it, she could have messaged James to tell him she was alive.

    She could have messaged Terry to apologize for leaving him, to beg for forgiveness¡­

    Her thoughts were interrupted by a stirring in the air around them. Both Penelope and Silver¡¯s eyes shot open at the same time. Through the dark, they locked onto each other.

    ¡°Which one?¡± her father asked softly.

    She felt the pulse of power touch her skin, resonate with the sibling Singularity inside of her. There was a familiar flavor to that power, one that synchronized with her own aura.

    ¡°It¡¯s one of my Aspects,¡± she replied.

    Silver nodded. ¡°Metaphysical, then. Dancer wouldn¡¯t let his free¡ªeven for a second.¡±

    ¡°Close, too,¡± she added. ¡°Can you get us there?¡±

    She heard him rise to his feet, felt his senses range out.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­strange,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°I feel a blockage.¡± She felt more than saw his eyes lock on her. ¡°Artifact, I think. I might be able to break it with enough time¡­¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    She chewed her lip in thought. As she opened her mouth to speak, the pulsing power cut off at the source, like a fire doused in water.

    ¡°And it¡¯s gone.¡± She sighed, her shoulders sagging.

    ¡°I still have it,¡± her father whispered, his voice tight with concentration. ¡°I¡¯m tracking the Artifact.¡±

    Hope blossomed in her chest¡ªand anticipation. If they could acquire a fourth Singularity, they¡¯d achieve a Majority.

    Then, things would be¡­maybe not easier. But at least momentum would be on their side. Then¡­she could finally turn her focus toward finding Terry.

    <hr>

    ¡°Sol!¡± Tinker hissed. ¡°What are you doing!¡±

    The Singularity felt alive in his hands; a writhing web of power that shifted and pulsed in a rhythm that reminded him of blood coursing through veins. He almost thought it spoke to him, a flicker of a whisper echoing in the back of his mind.

    It was rejecting him, he knew. Not a violent rejection, but more of a soft letdown. A subtle sensation of wrongness, incompatibility.

    When he¡¯d first accepted it from Terraform, he¡¯d felt that rejection powerfully. Let it resonate with his own self doubts and trauma, amplifying the damage Hunter had helped reveal.

    But now, he understood. It wasn¡¯t that they were incompatible or that Sol wasn¡¯t enough for it to accept him. The realization had come to him the moment Qui Shen had stepped into view.

    He¡¯d felt true resonance in the moment, the pulse of power emanating from the man possessed a flavor to it that called to him.

    Sol had always recognized that he wasn¡¯t meant to be a world power¡ªhad never had ambitions to become one. He had always been content with the moderate responsibility of ruling Topeka, never striving for more than he could handle.

    Terrence had made the first move in their little conflict and Sol had been forced to respond in kind. But he¡¯d never wanted Wichita.

    Things had just¡­escalated beyond his intention or control. Once the hound was out of the gate, there was no pulling it back in.

    His imprisonment had given him time¡ªtoo much time, really¡ªto contemplate his lack of ambition. He didn¡¯t see it as a flaw to understand one¡¯s place in the grand scheme of the world. But he hadn¡¯t considered the ramifications of his actions on those that followed him.

    The Knights of Sol were dead.

    But more than that, Topeka suffered. The civilians that he had purported to lead were the victims of his arrogant disregard. Terrence and the Council fought over his city like animals over a corpse.

    When Terry had saved him from his grandfather¡¯s dungeon, Sol had known with steel-clad certainty that he could never lead again. Yet, somehow, months later, he found himself entrusted by Terraform to not only shield this Singularity, but shepherd his people to safety.

    Safety from the mad man standing across from him now.

    ¡°This is what you¡¯ve come for, isn¡¯t it?¡± he called to the mad man. ¡°Traveled thousands of miles in secret for this.¡±

    He felt the aura around Qui Shen shiver, an involuntary spasm that seemed to trace across the man¡¯s entire being.

    ¡°Give it to me,¡± the flames hissed.

    Sol turned his attention toward the Singularity in his hands. Then, he let it sink back into his chest, feeling the warmth of its power spread across his limbs.

    The flames encircling Qui Shen flared brighter, but Sol wasn¡¯t afraid of a little light.

    His voice felt easy, his limbs relaxed for what felt like the first time in years. ¡°I need to speak to my people. I¡¯ll hold on to it for now.¡±

    ¡°You may confer. But know this: if you don¡¯t surrender the Divinity.¡± The flames licked the stone floor, molten fire sneaking toward the refugees. ¡°I¡¯ll burn every last one of them.¡±

    Sol turned without another word, noting the fear and hesitation in the eyes staring at him.

    ¡°Tinker?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°Where do Dancer and the SPC stand?¡±

    A pained expression crossed his face.

    ¡°I¡­received word from Dancer.¡± He frowned, hesitation heavy in his tone. ¡°He¡¯s offered you four asylum...¡± His eyes flitted toward the crowd of people for the briefest moment, the shame visible as he turned back to Sol. ¡°Just you four.¡±

    Sol felt Rupert smile at his side, quickly masked with a look of reluctant acceptance.

    Next to him, the confusion on Terry¡¯s face shifted, recognition flashing in his wide eyes before they narrowed, his jaw clenching visibly.

    ¡°Fuck that¡ª¡± he started, but Sol held out a hand. Terry looked toward him in shock, then a flash of betrayal, but he returned that look with a steady gaze. He could see the kaleidoscope of emotions pass through the boy¡¯s eyes before he settled, his trust only slightly marred by confusion.

    Turning back to Tinker, he nodded sympathetically.

    ¡°And how does Dancer propose to extricate us from this little¡­¡± He indicated Qui Shen with a look. ¡°¡­predicament?¡±

    To Tinker¡¯s credit, he at least had the good grace to look embarrassed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll drop the Artifact blocking space manipulation. Dancer has an A-ranking Traveler on standby ready to pull us out fast.¡±

    Sol nodded, keeping his face impassive as he looked behind him at the kneeling Market natives. Wide eyes, tear-streaked faces, and pitiful expressions stared back at him.

    ¡°And them?¡± he asked, his voice low.

    Tinker¡¯s face was deathly white.

    ¡°You know¡­¡±

    ¡°I want to hear you say it,¡± Sol said simply.

    Tinker sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking over Sol¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°We leave them to Qui Shen.¡±

    ¡°You son of a bitch,¡± Tania hissed. She strode toward Tinker¡¯s power armor, shoving futilely against the cold steel. ¡°You¡¯d leave them to die?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing for it, you silly girl,¡± Rupert growled. ¡°Either they die or we all die!¡±

    She whirled on the man, her face a thundercloud of fury.

    ¡°Well, now the coward speaks.¡±

    Sol saw the tensing in Rupert¡¯s muscles, could feel his intentions before he even moved. With a step, he gripped the man¡¯s arm. The Duelist was strong¡ªpossibly stronger than Sol, even. But he had enough strength in his hand to give the man pause long enough for the fury to clear and sense to return.

    When he was sure Rupert wouldn¡¯t do anything stupid, he cut his gaze back toward Tinker, evaluating him with a measured look.

    ¡°What are your thoughts on all of this?¡± he asked.

    Tinker sighed, glancing toward Lady and Bloodhound. ¡°Frankly, it doesn¡¯t sit right with me. There¡¯s nearly a thousand people we¡¯d be leaving to die.¡± He reached a steel hand toward his face as if to wipe at it, then stopped once he realized it wouldn¡¯t clear the opening. His hand dropped down, a resigned posture in his shoulders. ¡°But I think the Singularity is too important to give over to a maniac like that. We have to do the responsible thing.¡±

    Sol nodded, using the heavy silence to craft a System message to Terry and Tania.

    ¡°I agree. The Singularity is too important to hand over to a maniac.¡±

    He knew what needed to be done¡ªfelt it deep down in a place he had thought was long dead. There was nothing heroic about what was to come; lives would be lost¡ªperhaps all of them would die in the next few minutes.

    But at the very least, he could make sure the Singularity Terraform had entrusted to him wouldn¡¯t end up in the hands of a tyrant¡ªeither of them.

    ¡°Okay, Tinker. Tell Dancer we accept.¡± His tone was weary, resigned to a choice that was no choice at all. ¡°Let us know when you¡¯re ready to drop the spatial restriction.¡±

    <hr>

    Terry read Sol¡¯s System message over once more, a confusing blend of feelings mingling inside of him.

    On one hand, he felt a keen sense of righteousness at what they planned to do. Qui Shen and Dancer were cut from the same cloth in his mind and he didn¡¯t trust either of them to wield an additional Singularity. If one of them got their hands on this one, the balance of power would be forever skewed in their favor.

    On the other, he was scared shitless. It was one thing putting his life on the line against sanguine and draugrs. But this was a battle between S-rankers. He didn¡¯t have a place in that fight. All he could do was stay out of the way and wait for the flames to consume him.

    But this was what he had wanted growing up; he¡¯d wanted to be a hero. As a child, he had naively thought that meant thwarting the bad guys and posing for pictures at the follow up press conference.

    Now, he knew different. There was always collateral damage. Heroes rarely walked away unscathed. And sometimes, they had to make that final decision to sell their lives just to put a speed bump in the villain¡¯s path.

    He was that speed bump, he finally realized. It might have galled him in the past to know that he wasn¡¯t the hero.

    But now, as he stared across the cavern at a man armored in living flame, he felt content.

    The smallest of nods between him, Tania, and Sol was all they needed. A moment later, Tinker was giving them the signal.

    ¡°Dropping in five,¡± he said. His mask irised across his face, sealing him into his power armor.

    Sol pulled the Singularity from his chest and Qui Shen shivered in excitement over his shoulder.

    When the first pulse of power hit Terry, he reeled in shock. Time slowed, his thoughts speeding up as his body seemed stuck in amber.

    A flash of awareness seemed to emanate from the Singularity, something akin to an acknowledgment of his presence; an approving sensation washing over his mind.

    Then, it began to guide his aura, revealing a framework in Terry¡¯s mind that was familiar, yet¡­more.

    Almost unconsciously, he shifted gears. Instead of simply preparing to send it through a portal as far into the earth as he could, a new plan began to form.

    A single second passed and he crafted the portal framework with his aura.

    Another second, and he attached the framework to the ocean of power pulsing from the Singularity.

    A third and he matched the rhythm with his own aura, giving life to the power he was embedding inside it.

    Four seconds gone, and he tied off the aura, feeling the Singularity guiding his hand gently.

    When Tinker let his lock over space fall, a pulse of power burst from the Singularity, warping the air around them.

    A portal whooshed into existence¡ªDancer¡¯s Traveler was right on time.

    But as it cut across space and the others prepared to jump through it, the Singularity bent space, too. With a rush of air, it was gone, the slightest tug on Terry¡¯s aura the only indication of their link.

    He felt another pull, then another. Without realizing how, he knew the Singularity was portaling through the earth¡¯s crust, constantly moving, out of reach for Qui Shen or Dancer.

    Quest Complete: [Anchor a Skill]

 B2 - Chapter 20: Fire and Light

    Midmark Quest Given: [Summons]

    More details provided after summons. Do you accept Summons?

    Reward: C-rank

    That notification made his stomach flip, but there was no time to process that new Quest; he could only focus on the three S-rankers before him.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± Tinker¡¯s voice echoed through his mask, disbelieving, lost.

    Sol turned away, facing the rising flames threatening them all. Over his shoulder, he answered the Artificer.

    ¡°Did you really think I¡¯d abandon all these people?¡± His skin began to glow, the air seeming to warp around him. ¡°Did you really think I¡¯d give that much power to Dancer?¡±

    The fire around Qui Shen began to spit, tendrils snapping out, reaching toward them, the nearby refugees¡ªeveryone. Sol lifted a hand, and the burning heat began to pull toward him instead.

    ¡°Tinker, protect the innocents as best you can.¡± Sol glanced back, his voice tight with concentration. ¡°Or hop through that portal right now. The choice is yours.¡± And with that, he launched into the air, Qui Shen¡¯s flames rising to meet him.

    Terry studied the unreadable mask of Tinker¡¯s power armor, wondering what the man would choose.

    The two S-rankers clashed in the sky, light and fire ripping through the air, catching a group of people. Some went running or blocked the power with their own aura. Some were burned, but managed to escape, their screams echoing through the tunnel.

    Some fell down, their skin sloughing off, and never moved again.

    ¡°Tinker!¡± Terry shouted. The man¡¯s mask simply stared after Sol, watched the titantic fight begin to coalesce. He reached over, gripped Tinker¡¯s steel arm, pulling the man from his daze. ¡°Tinker! If you can shield the civilians, I might be able to hold open the portal! But I need your help keeping the fight away from them.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget there¡¯s a Hypnotist hiding somewhere,¡± Bloodhound added. ¡°S-rank, judging from the aura.¡±

    Tinker seemed to shake himself from his fugue, turning to face Terry.

    ¡°I can block most of the heat¡ªif he doesn¡¯t target me directly. But you know Dancer will just shut the portal the moment the first civilian pops through instead of us?¡±

    Terry focused on the piece of aura he¡¯d funneled into the still-open portal. Beyond, it felt like a wide open space. Hopefully large enough for nearly a thousand people.

    ¡°If I can¡¯t force it open, I¡¯ll make my own.¡±

    Tinker seemed to study him for a moment behind his steel mask, then nodded. Without another word, thrusters activated on his armor, launching him over the bulk of the group. A ripple of energy whined in the air, and a moment later, a dome of blue power spread out from Tinker¡¯s position.

    A lick of Qui Shen¡¯s flame danced along the blue dome, singing wherever it touched, but not breaking through.

    Terry cupped hands over his mouth and shouted toward the nearest group.

    ¡°Get to the portal!¡±

    It didn¡¯t take more than a second for the crowd to recognize their only avenue of escape. They began to run toward Terry, Tania, and the portal. A few Duelists zipped past everyone, launching through at speed, but most were low to average ranking Awakened.

    Tania started coordinating the fleeing group into a manageable file just as Terry felt the portal aura began to disintegrate, fraying at its edges.

    He reached through space, feeling the opposing Traveler releasing his hold on the portal. With a flex of power, he reinforced the aura framework and the portal flashed back to full strength.

    For a moment, as another dozen people rushed through to safety, he thought that might be the end of it¡ªperhaps Dancer wasn¡¯t the monster they all considered him to be.

    That was when the Traveler flexed his aura over Terry¡¯s hold.

    He almost lost his grip on space in that first moment, a wave of power crashing into the portal¡¯s structure in a destabilizing rush.

    His own aura buttressed the tear in space, wedging it open. Another rush of energy ripped at his hold, threatening his grip with frightening strength.

    All the while, people rushed through to the other side, though Tania had been able to force some semblance of order.

    Sweat dripped down into his eyes¡ªfrom the struggle with the opposing Traveler or Qui Shen¡¯s heat, he couldn¡¯t say. He blinked it away, his teeth clenched tight as Dancer¡¯s Traveler fought to wrench the portal from his control.

    A third wave of power gripped him, pushing and tugging back and forth like he was a chew toy in a Doberman¡¯s mouth. His grip began to falter, the pain of his aura being ripped away felt like a lash across his back.

    A hand gripped his shoulder and something¡ªno, someone¡ªjoined the struggle. Rushing power coursed into his limbs, his aura, his mind, soothing the ache that was gripping his body.

    He spared a glance to see Lady next to him, her eyes shut in concentration as she funneled raw power into his aura.

    A wave of irrational humor washed over him; he¡¯d dreamt of fighting side-by-side with Lady, once upon a time. In his youthful daydreams, they¡¯d thwarted evil with casual ease, and she¡¯d witnessed just how heroic and selfless he was. Her eyes had glistened when she looked toward him, her admiration and desire naked on her face.

    The juxtaposition of that daydream beside the sweaty, terrifying, and most likely thankless reality nearly made him laugh. He stifled the manic sensation threatening to rise and turned his full attention back to the Traveler fighting to trap them all miles under the earth with a walking fire storm.

    With Lady¡¯s boost, the fight became more even¡ªone of speed and skill rather than raw strength. He felt the Traveler¡¯s aura smash against his in sub-space, trying to encompass him like a closed fist and snuff him out.

    But the strength disparity wasn¡¯t a yawning chasm anymore¡ªhe could hold out for a few minutes, at least.

    Then, the Traveler¡¯s power spiked, nearly doubling in the span of a blink. Before he could even register what was happening, the portal snapped shut with the finality of a guillotine¡¯s blade.

    The refugees who had been about to enter cried out in sudden panic. All along the line, screams and confusion rippled among the people.

    Terry could only stare at the empty space where the portal had been. He¡¯d been so confident, so sure he could hold it open.

    ¡°Someone Amplified him.¡±

    He turned toward Lady, his eyes unfocused as he struggled to process the sudden change of events. It took him a moment to return to the present and he spotted the lost look in her face.

    ¡°We¡¯re dead,¡± she whispered, her eyes tracking up toward Sol and Qui Shen.

    He wanted to argue¡ªshe was the hero, not me!¡ªbut there was a sense of dread hanging in the air. Something indefinable, but laying heavy across them.

    His eyes widened in realization.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°The Hypnotist,¡± he muttered. ¡°They¡¯re attacking us even now, sapping our will to fight.¡± He turned toward Bloodhound who watched the fight between the S-rankers, his blades held uselessly in his hands. ¡°You can find them, right?¡±

    The man seemed to shake himself from a trance, his eyes ranging over Terry.

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± he replied hesitantly. ¡°But even if I do, that¡¯s an S-ranker.¡± He looked between Terry and Lady. ¡°What can we do against that?¡±

    Terry furled his nose. ¡°Here are your options: lay down and die¡­or fight.¡± He looked toward Lady, then the soldiers behind her, Tania at his side, and finally, the nearby group of refugees who were in a halfway panic. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m not ready to give up just yet.¡±

    Bloodhound and Lady exchanged a look, then Bloodhound shrugged.

    ¡°Alright, kid. I¡¯ll see if I can home in¡ª¡±

    A ripple of power washed over them¡ªnot the group of refugees, but just them. Terry felt it slice through their group, more scalpel than the blunt instrument it had been before.

    As he followed its direction with his senses, he realized its target too late.

    Rupert¡¯s eyes glassed for the briefest flash, then he moved.

    Terry¡¯s cry of warning died in his throat before it could even form. The blur that was Rupert practically teleported in front of Bloodhound, his hands dropping back to his side as if he had just finished swinging. Bloodhound¡¯s eyes bulged in shock and that was when Terry noticed his throat.

    It was caved in, a fist-sized divot where his Adam¡¯s apple should have been.

    He stirred his aura on instinct, activating his Master of Light Skill to blind the attacking Duelist. Bloodhound collapsed to the ground with a gurgle as Rupert began clawing at his eyes like a feral animal.

    Lady screamed in horror as her gaze tracked toward Bloodhound¡¯s spasming body, his legs kicking the stone futilely.

    Rupert turned his blind eyes toward her screams, prepared to move with deadly intent.

    Stone hands reached up and gripped his ankles. He growled in anger as he reached to pry himself free.

    Terry followed the aura back to a thin man who had arrived with Tinker. His aura felt weak to Terry¡¯s senses¡ªa D-ranker if he had to guess.

    Their Stone Elementalist, he realized.

    A moment later, while he was still connecting the dots, a booming sound cut across the cacophony around them. Qui Shen and Sol¡¯s fiery fight above, Lady¡¯s screams, even the panicked shouts of nearly a thousand refugees, were overridden by that echoing boom.

    Rupert went limp, his body drooping oddly, bent in half over where the stone still gripped his legs.

    Terry spotted the blood seeping from a bullet hole in his forehead a moment later.

    From where he lay prone on the ground¡ªstill clutching his throat with wild gasps¡ªthe pistol fell from Bloodhound¡¯s hand.

    ¡°We can still save him,¡± Tania hissed at his side. She nodded toward the larger group where hundreds of Awakened stirred restlessly. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be a healer among them.¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°Good point. You work on that. I need to try and punch through this fucker¡¯s spatial lock¡ª¡±

    He cut off as he felt space begin to respond to someone¡¯s pull. His breath caught as he considered if Dancer had decided to come aid them after all. Maybe the Council or Terry¡¯s father had pushed the issue, forcing his hand.

    Then, another thought hit him like a gut punch.

    What if Dancer¡¯s just coming to mop up the survivor of Sol and Qui Shen¡¯s fight? What if he just wants the Singularity?

    His thoughts were interrupted as a portal cut through space with a definitive finesse¡ªparting it, rather than peeling it back.

    A familiar finesse.

    ¡°What is it, Terry?¡± Tania asked at his side. She must have noticed his smile.

    He merely watched the portal, not even extending his senses to get a feel for its framework. Tania opened her mouth to press the issue, when a figure stepped through, his silhouette backlit by the blue of the portal, obscuring his features.

    He didn¡¯t need to see the man¡¯s glowing eyes or feel his imposing presence to recognize their newest arrival.

    Terraform had joined the fight.

    <hr>

    Sol¡¯s skin burned, his aura twisted. This wasn¡¯t a fight he could win; never had been. He was out of his depth and he had known it the moment he¡¯d chosen to defy Dancer and face Qui Shen head to head.

    But the stark reality of the disparity in their power still managed to shock him to his core.

    Their elements were similar in many ways. Light and Fire were siblings on the elemental spectrum and Sol wouldn¡¯t say one was superior to the other in the general sense. Fire was more devastating, while Light possessed more utility.

    Utility, though, could only carry him so far when faced against the raw destruction that was Qui Shen. Flames spewed toward him, as hot as the surface of the sun, burning with a power that should have sucked the air out of the cavern in an instant.

    But the Elemental Singularity was Qui Shen¡¯s trump card. With it, the impossible became possible. His fire burned hotter, his attacks came faster, his defensive shell became impenetrable.

    Worse than that, Sol¡¯s own element turned traitorous, flexing against him, bucking against his control with pulses of the Singularity in Qui Shen¡¯s possession.

    He fired a concentrated laser¡ªhot enough to penetrate Qui Shen¡¯s armor¡ªonly for it to diffract uselessly. He pulled on the infrared light generated by his flames, only for it to revolt under his grip and suffuse the cavern. He tried to fly in close to fight hand to hand, but his powers revolted, sending him careening into a wall.

    There was nothing else he could try; he was losing this fight and handily. As he moved to clear some distance to reassess his options, a blast of pure fire hit him. He tried to absorb its heat, but he felt the Singularity pulse, robbing his aura of its intent.

    Blistering flames struck him, scorching his flesh, melting a palm-sized hole in his chest down to the ribs. The pain blanked his mind and he realized distantly that he was crashing to the stone below.

    There was no time to brace for impact. His mind was bathed in searing pain, too much for any human to bear.

    But when he struck the stony floor, there was no bone-crunching collision, no crack of skull or slap of flesh. Instead, the stone seemed to embrace him, receive him like a catcher¡¯s mitt.

    There was no time to wonder about that peculiarity; Qui Shen was coming.

    Get up, Sol! Get up! These people need you!

    Boots stepped into view and he felt despair. It was too late, Qui Shen was on him.

    Then, his mind righted itself and realization struck him: those boots weren¡¯t wreathed in flame. Instead, there was a steadiness to the presence standing over him, an anchoring strength that resonated deep inside his aura.

    He looked up, his eyes tracking up to meet Terraform¡¯s piercing gaze.

    ¡°Get up, Sol. Job¡¯s not done.¡±

    <hr>

    Lance Gunnar, also known as Silver, had his attention zeroed in on that damned Artifact restricting space.

    He hated when Artifacts impeded his Travel. Though he had an affinity with the Physical Singularity and was able to utilize it to teleport, he had never had a fundamental grasp on manipulating space.

    His methods tended closer to the brute force path and he acknowledged that about himself. Oftentimes, brute force was enough, anyway.

    But this Artifact in particular was powerful¡ªfar more powerful than the one in Terrence¡¯s palace back in Wichita. And the distance didn¡¯t help.

    After a few minutes, he growled in annoyance.

    ¡°It¡¯s damned strong. Gotta be an S-rank Artifact¡ªwith a meaty power source, too.¡±

    His daughter simply placed a hand on his shoulder, but he felt his irritation drain away like the plug had been yanked.

    For a moment, he felt embarrassed¡ªshe had to modulate his mood more often than he liked. He wanted to blame it on the infection he¡¯d been fighting from the Spectral Singularity back on the far side of the moon¡ªthat struggle had done a number on his psyche, he was realizing. But he also had to admit that he was still dealing with the trauma of four decades trapped on his Capstone Quest. Four decades living with the knowledge that he had failed his son, abandoned his daughter, and there had been nothing he could do about it.

    But now¡­now he had a chance to make things right, at least with Penelope. He¡¯d started that work with her son, mentoring Terry in what little ways he could. And her return had only fueled him with renewed purpose.

    Finding an equal¡ªno, he wasn¡¯t her equal¡ªhad infused him with so much pride that he had fought down more than a few tears.

    And that¡¯s what ate at him now. She had developed into such a competent and powerful Awakened¡ªall without his guiding presence. She hadn¡¯t needed him and for some reason, that stung more than all the rest.

    Perhaps that was why he felt so irrationally irritated now; he was good for at least one thing, and that was portaling them where they were needed.

    If he couldn¡¯t even do that¡­what good was he?

    ¡°Dad¡­¡± she whispered. ¡°I can hear your thoughts.¡±

    A flush of embarrassment passed over him.

    ¡°Well¡­it¡¯s true,¡± he replied.

    He knew they¡¯d had this conversation a dozen times; knew it must be tedious for her to constantly reassure him. But he couldn¡¯t seem to work past the self doubt and recrimination.

    Her grip on his shoulder tightened and for once, he didn¡¯t let her pull away his troubling thoughts.

    ¡°No, I¡­I need to feel this.¡±

    She hesitated, her hand lingering for a moment before she pulled it back.

    ¡°Okay, Dad. But I¡¯ve been processing, too.¡± He turned to look at her through the inky darkness. ¡°And I¡¯ve forgiven you.¡±

    He opened his mouth to protest¡ªI haven¡¯t forgiven myself, he tried to say¡ªbut she cut him off.

    ¡°Let me finish.¡± He felt her turn away and pace through the small cave. ¡°I resented you all of my life¡ªyou know that.¡±

    He nodded, but couldn¡¯t fit any words past his tight throat.

    ¡°But I did the exact same thing, Dad. Don¡¯t you get it?¡± The air stirred as she whirled back toward him. ¡°I abandoned Terry¡ªleft him alone to navigate his childhood, his Awakening, without me!¡±

    They¡¯d already had this conversation and he found himself confused.

    ¡°Pen¡­¡±

    ¡°Wait¡ª¡± Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. ¡°But you were there for him, don¡¯t you see? He didn¡¯t have me, but he had you!¡±

    He scoffed lightly. ¡°Not sure that¡¯s the boon you think it is.¡±

    She chuckled, stepping closer so that their auras touched.

    ¡°I-It means more to me than you could ever know.¡±

    He reached out, his hands questing in the dark to embrace her, when he realized that something was different¡ªnot a sensation, per se, but more like the absence of one. Like the background static of a TV had suddenly turned off and he hadn¡¯t noticed it right away.

    With a burst of energy, he reached across space, trailing his senses over where the Artifact had been active just a minute ago.

    ¡°Pen! It¡¯s down!¡±

    She pulled away in obvious confusion.

    ¡°What?¡±

    He didn¡¯t bother explaining, instead reaching through space¡ªno, smashing through it. It parted before his strength with a pained cry, yielding to his power with a whimper.

    A portal cut across the dark cave, blinding blue light searing their eyes.

    Penelope didn¡¯t even wait for an explanation; she raced through the portal in a burst of speed.

    And Silver was right behind her.

 B2- Chapter 21: Twelve Angry S-Rankers

    For a moment¡ªan irrational flash of disbelief¡ªTerry didn¡¯t quite comprehend what he was seeing.

    Terraform stepped through the new portal, his aura spreading wide to embrace his element, like a king entering his throne room.

    But that wasn¡¯t what had struck Terry¡¯s mind blank.

    Behind him strode Hunter, Marco, Juliette, and Louisa. Inexplicably, there had been no casualties.

    Then, a voice called out, somehow echoing past their shoulders and over the cacophony of the battle around them.

    ¡°Get the hell out of the way. Don¡¯t you have a fight to join!¡±

    Juliette scuttled from the portal¡¯s entrance, revealing a stone berth sliding across the ground.

    On it, was Marlon, his legs twisted unnaturally, his scowl familiar.

    Terraform and the other four high-ranking Awakened rushed to join the fight against Qui Shen while Marlon approached Terry and Tania on his sliding stone.

    ¡°Marlon!¡± Terry rushed to meet the surly man. ¡°How?¡±

    He waved away the question, looking about expectantly.

    ¡°Why¡¯re these people still here? They¡¯re just gettin¡¯ in the way.¡±

    ¡°Dancer¡¯s Traveler has us embargoed. I tried keeping the portal open¡­¡±

    Marlon¡¯s scowl deepened, his aura flexing up and away. A moment later, Terry felt Dancer¡¯s Traveler match up against Marlon¡¯s probing touch.

    The contest lasted all of two seconds. To Terry¡¯s senses, it was like a fencer¡¯s duel. The unknown Traveler thrust¡ªoverconfident, victory expectant. Marlon parried, countered, and just like that, space answered his call.

    When the portal slid across space, Marlon grunted and raised a brow at Terry.

    ¡°What?¡± Terry asked. The eyebrow only rose higher. ¡°He¡¯s an A-ranker!¡± He tried¡ªand failed¡ªto keep the whine out of his tone.

    ¡°He¡¯s a rank amateur.¡± Terry felt Marlon¡¯s aura slice out, rip through the Traveler¡¯s frantic attacks and cut another portal through space. A second eyebrow raised in Terry¡¯s direction. ¡°And you¡¯re my student.¡±

    Terry double-taked between Tania, Lady, and Marlon.

    ¡°He had an Amplifier!¡±

    ¡°So did you!¡± Marlon countered.

    Terry almost continued arguing, but realized Marlon wasn¡¯t wrong. The man had accomplished what he couldn¡¯t¡ªfaster and with much less effort.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he relented, his tone only slightly sarcastic, ¡°this one apologizes for bringing shame to you, master.¡±

    Marlon growled. ¡°Save the sass, boy. Fight¡¯s not¡ª¡±

    A ripple of aura slammed into them¡ªand not just them.

    Screams echoed out from the crowd that had been rushing through the two open portals. A second wave washed over them, infecting their auras and their minds. Raw terror, anger, a need for violence, all bundled into a heady cocktail that made Terry¡¯s head swim. An unknown amount of time passed before he was able to push the infecting mood away. But when he did, he looked around to see the refugees turning on each other, racing around the cavern, or even leaving the safety of Tinker¡¯s dome straight into a fiery death.

    He turned to see Tania clutching her head, while Marlon¡¯s eyes were just coming back into focus. His aura washed out, shoving away the Hypnotist¡¯s influence and forcing some semblance of control back into their eyes.

    ¡°We have to counter the enemy Hypnotist¡ª¡±

    A hand touched his shoulder and a tingle electrified his skin, sending his mind darting through the weeds of his past.

    I know that feeling¡­

    He wanted to whirl around, cut his eyes toward that hand¡¯s owner. But he felt mired in place, like he was in a dream and couldn¡¯t awaken.

    Slow¡ªso painfully slow¡ªhe turned and met the gaze of the woman behind him.

    ¡°¡­Mom?¡±

    <hr>

    Their secret journey through the stone had been perhaps the most harrowing of H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s fraught-filled life.

    His Majesty, the Eternal Flame, had never seemed so human in all the decades H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had served the Burning Court.

    Of course, he¡¯d never seen the Eternal Flame without his flame armor, but that was the point entirely.

    With them, came His Majesty¡¯s God-Tier Hypnotist, who had not deigned to impart her name. But in his mind, he had unavoidably dubbed her D¨² Sh¨¦, Venomous Snake, for the way she caressed his mind such that he didn¡¯t notice her touch until it was gone, leaving venom in her wake.

    Three Demigod-Tier Duelists joined them, along with a single Amplifier of the same rank¡ªall he had believed he could reliably sneak into striking range of the large underground procession.

    The presence of the two Gods at his side on any other day would have had his limbs quaking. But the circumstances¡ªand more accurately, the consequences¡ªof his role had been enough to send bile burning up his throat.

    And just when those ulcers had been on the cusp of fading¡­

    But somehow, against all odds, he had ferried His Majesty and the others to within striking distance without any alarm or flicker of aura to signal they¡¯d been sensed.

    Only as they¡¯d gotten closer had H¨¦ng Sh¨ª understood that the enemy¡¯s Stone Elementalists¡ªhis brothers, in any other scenario¡ªwere of low rank.

    Naively, he¡¯d allowed himself to hope¡ªhope that he would survive. Or if not survive, at least not bring punishment upon his family.

    The Snake¡¯s aura dulled the senses of the milling low ranks above them, allowing His Majesty to arrive undetected. Later, he¡¯d felt Her induce panic, terror, and violence.

    At some point, a vast, incomprehensible¡­terrible aura had unfurled above them.

    A God has awakened¡­and His wrath knows no bounds.

    An aura flared to meet it, smaller, weaker¡­less. But a flicker of a suicidal thought had arisen in his heart.

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª hoped against all reason that this lesser flame would rise to the challenge of snuffing out that which was said to be Eternal.

    His mind stayed blank¡ªso carefully blank¡ªbut his heart burned with naked desire.

    It was only when he felt another God join the fight that he even acknowledged his heart¡¯s desire. And when he felt another comparable aura unleash itself, his thoughts rebelled against his tight control, lashing about within his mind, open for the Snake to read.

    Only her desperate battle with the unknown God saved him from being outed.

    With a delicate, glacially slow movement, he slid his eyes toward the Snake, and he watched.

    Her eyes burned, Her face contorted hideously with desperate concentration. Her very limbs shook with the latent rage and the blatant effort.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    But more importantly than any of that, was the fluctuation of Her aura as this unknown force opposed a Goddess¡­and was winning.

    The realization scalded him. They were losing. There was a chance these western Gods quenched the Eternal¡ª

    He cut off his thoughts with an iron, desperation-fueled, will.

    In the midst of his internal struggle, he realized that the Snake had said something to him. He hurriedly doubled at the waist, averting his eyes and aura.

    ¡°A thousand pardons, Your¡ª¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡± she barked. ¡°Take us back to the army.¡± Her aura was under attack, undirected and weakened, but the burning look in Her eyes might as well have been the mental attack of a God-Tier Hypnotist. ¡°Now!¡±

    For a deadly moment, his mind blanked, his words somehow moving faster than thought.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Her expression faltered for the briefest flicker of a moment, then her eyes narrowed into a hawk¡¯s gaze.

    He had never bowed so low in his life.

    ¡°Pardon, Goddess!¡± Death¡¯s touch lingered over him¡ªhe felt it¡ªand then, it dissipated. ¡°As soon as the Burning One¡ª¡±

    Her next words flashed hotter than any fire he¡¯d ever felt.

    ¡°Now.¡±

    ¡°But¡­His Excellency¡ª¡±

    That touch returned, like a dagger¡¯s edge pressed to his throat.

    ¡°You question me¡­?¡±

    Her voice was suddenly low, full of venom, clutching at his heart.

    But before he could respond, he felt an aura pulse all around them, searching¡­hunting.

    The Snake¡¯s towering pressure dissipated, withdrawing, concealing them in a tight bubble that he understood was hiding them from this other force.

    She was losing¡ªcowering¡ªand was abandoning the fight.

    Abandoning the Eternal Flame.

    There was no plan; no conscious thought, no physical or mental trigger for Her to glean. His mind simply pocketed his intention and his aura acted.

    Stone rippled away from them, responding to his aura¡¯s touch. Above them, it slid away, retracting like a motorized skylight. Sounds struck the group, a cacophony of screams, burning flames, and grinding stone.

    At the exact same moment, the aura struck them as well.

    He felt the Goddess¡¯ shock, Her understanding. She reached for him with Her aura, injecting a slideshow of horror that shook him ragged.

    Your family will suffer like nothing you could even imagine. They shall burn, but never be allowed to die. Their skin shall be flensed, then regrafted. Terror, pain, a terrible, bone-deep longing for death¡ª

    A voice echoed down into their stone alcove, cutting through the Snake¡¯s words and aura. A trace of humor touched that voice, like its owner were inwardly chuckling at some inside joke.

    ¡°Come out, come out wherever you are!¡±

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª looked up to see a woman standing above them on the edge of the opening he¡¯d crafted, her eyes tinkling with silver magic as they locked onto the Snake. She struck a cutting figure, her face nearly as striking as her eyes; stunning¡ªin a western sort of way.

    She smiled down at them, then must have noticed something on their faces, because she let out a light, tinkling laugh.

    Her words came out in a slow, high, sing-song voice.

    ¡°Found¡­you.¡±

    <hr>

    Light, Fire, Stone, Artifact weaponry, and physical flesh, collided in a display that lit up the cavern and echoed like a series of building demolitions.

    But Terry didn¡¯t see or hear the clash of the S-rankers¡ªcouldn¡¯t. All he could do, every ounce of power, fleck of hard-earned skill, and modicum of talent, was devoted to opening¡ªor keeping open¡ªthe portals evacuating the refugees.

    Despite Marlon¡¯s earlier bravado, it was a constant battle to maintain their foothold on the surface for one simple reason.

    Hopper¡ªthe S-ranked Traveler from Team Dallas¡ªhad joined the fight.

    Marlon had been right; the Traveler they had faced earlier¡ªthough an A-ranker¡ªhad been unskilled. Trial and error had shown Terry the way to beat the man and he was now facing off against said Traveler with relative success.

    Hopper, on the other hand, was not an amateur. In fact, she seemed to have the advantage against Marlon and was slowly edging ground away from the man despite his mastery.

    And still, they had held out almost long enough. Nearly three-quarters of the refugees were through one of the portals and it was looking like they would all make it through to safety.

    Or, if not safety, surely not certain fiery death.

    That was when he felt it.

    A moment of stillness passed over the entire cavern, the aura straining to shift and finding no purchase to move. The screams and panic silenced, almost in deference to the powerful pulse that echoed around them.

    Terry cut his attention away from space, instinctively knowing where to look.

    Across the cavern, well outside Tinker¡¯s shield, two men appeared to embrace.

    It was only after he magnified his vision with Master of Light did he understand what he was seeing.

    Silver clutched Qui Shen¡¯s burning form with one hand, his skin metallic¡ªthough blackened and scorched.

    And his other hand¡­was elbow deep in Qui Shen¡¯s chest, shoving in and through to the far side.

    The flames prismed, flashing through colors¡ªwhite, blue, red, yellow, and finally, extinguishing.

    In the flame¡¯s place, an old, frail man gasped in surprise, his eyes not quite finding the face of his killer.

    Silver shoved Qui Shen away with a growl, his metal hand clutching a blackened, bleeding ball of meat that might have once been a heart.

    But none of that was what had caused the stillness, the silence.

    Flashing across every man and woman¡¯s senses, were the pulses of the Elemental Singularity slowly rising from Qui Shen¡¯s burning husk.

    It seemed to hang there, warping time and space around it in a way that reminded Terry of the Metaphysical Singularity right before he¡¯d sent it flying through the earth¡¯s crust.

    It was calling out. To everyone or¡­someone.

    The pull of space snapped him from his reverie, and before he could react¡ªeven before Marlon could react¡ªDancer was stepping through a portal across the cavern, right beside Tinker, Silver, Terraform, and the corpse of Qui Shen.

    A heartbeat later, another person stepped through space. Then, another. And another. Until six S-rankers¡ªincluding Dancer¡ªarrived within the span of a moment.

    And Terry recognized each and every one of them¡ªby reputation, if not personal interaction.

    Hopper of Team Dallas came first, followed by the other two S-rankers of her team, Purge and Lift. The ambient aura fuzzed as Purge arrived, the S-ranked Disruptor affecting everyone around him. Lift was the Air Elementalist, capable of using her element to remove atmosphere, suffocate her foes, or alter air pressure to crush and maim.

    Behind them came the two remaining S-rankers of the Council. Reach was first to arrive, his chin held high, proud and confident. His System-awarded polearm was clutched loosely in his hands. But even at a distance, Terry could sense that the man was coiled like a spring, the tension ready to unleash without warning. Then his eyes flicked over toward Silver, widening for a moment before he subconsciously took a step closer to Dancer.

    Static was the last of the Council to arrive and the hairs on the back of Terry¡¯s neck and all along his arms stood upright. The air felt alive with electricity, like the moment before lightning struck. He knew from HeroWatch that the S-ranked Catalyst could literally charge the air and form bolts of lightning, though rumors were that his control was somewhat lacking the finesse of an Elementalist.

    Then, the last S-ranker stepped through the portal, and Terry felt a surprising warmth in his chest.

    His eyes met his grandfather¡¯s, a flash of understanding perhaps, passing between them before the Emperor turned his attention to the largest gathering of S-rankers since the Splintering.

    For a moment, no one said anything. The air stilled as if in deference to the gravity of the gathering. The exposed Elemental Singularity pulsed quietly, subdued. Terry had the sense that even it was waiting to see what would come next.

    Dancer took one step forward and the aura in the large cavern surged in response.

    ¡°We¡¯ve come to secure this Singularity,¡± he proclaimed. An aura of command buttressed his voice, singing deep into Terry¡¯s unconscious that this was a man to be obeyed.

    Silver¡¯s blackened metal skin retracted, revealing the familiar face, the silver bun, and the tight grimace on his lips. Behind him, Sol and Terraform moved toward his flanks in obvious solidarity.

    The threat in that simple move was as clear as a punch to the gut and the spectrum of expressions on the newly-arrived S-rankers flickered through fear, annoyance, and in some cases, anticipation.

    ¡°And by what right do you claim this Singularity?¡± Silver asked. ¡°You lot ain¡¯t done nothing but show up after the fight¡¯s over and done with.¡± His eyes flashed with silver magic. ¡°Like cowards.¡±

    Dancer didn¡¯t move an inch¡ªdidn¡¯t even blink¡ªas he regarded Silver. Some of the other S-rankers bristled at the man¡¯s proclamation, but they all looked to Dancer for guidance.

    After a five-count that stretched into eternity, Dancer spoke.

    ¡°By right of might, Gunny. There¡¯s only three of you and eight of us¡ª¡±

    A voice cut across Dancer, airy and bright¡ªalmost laughing.

    ¡°Four, actually.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mother approached Silver from behind, an unconscious woman held in a child¡¯s carry. She dumped the woman unceremoniously, her eyes never leaving Dancer¡¯s.

    A flutter that he couldn¡¯t identify filled his chest.

    Mom was alive. She was here!

    The emotions he¡¯d felt when she¡¯d first arrived had been confusing. Excitement, suddenly tempered by anger¡­then, a terrible longing to embrace her, throw his body into her arms and just let his worries and responsibilities drain away.

    The immediacy of the fight had cut across all that, forcing her away with barely a word and a light touch.

    And now¡­it seemed like the impending fight might dash any hope of a reunion.

    The wave of anger that washed over Dancer¡¯s aura could be felt even from across the cavern. He reached up to rub at his face, the picture of an adult forced to deal with the rebellious defiance of children.

    ¡°Penelope, there¡¯s no reason for us to fight. You and your father can¡¯t possibly hope to win. You¡¯re outnumbered two to one, weakened from your fight with Qui Shen, and¡ª¡± His eyes trailed away, locking onto Terry¡¯s. ¡°¡ªyour son stands firmly in the collateral.¡± His tone was sad, resigned, but also brittle, like a man putting on an act that he barely cared to maintain.

    His mother¡¯s gaze turned toward him then, her expression flickering, her resolve draining.

    Then, a voice cut across the tension, powerful and familiar.

    ¡°Actually, not entirely accurate.¡±

    His grandfather¡ªhis other grandfather¡ªstepped past Dancer, the air warping as his scythe and bone mask were summoned into existence.

    ¡°Terrence¡­¡± Dancer hissed. ¡°I give you a second chance and this is how¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, Disco,¡± the Emperor growled. ¡°I grovel before no man.¡±

    Aura surged, terrible, towering, dwarfing Terry, the lower ranks still stupidly gawking at the stand off, everyone.

    A quiet, nearly missed sound, interrupted the growing wave of aura.

    Tinker had cleared his throat, taken a single step from where he had been watching, and pivoted smoothly to face Dancer, Team Dallas, and his fellow Council members.

    ¡°I will not be a party to a second Tempest situation. If I must form the deadlock, then I will.¡± His mask irised back into place, his voice deep and modulated. ¡°It¡¯s now six versus six. Tell us all, Dancer, shall we shatter earth, air, and the very fabric of this world for the entertainment of those eldritch beings pulling our strings? Will you march to their beat so blindly¡ª¡±

    Dancer¡¯s aura crashed down, drowning Tinker in a wave that ripped the man¡¯s very essence to shreds.

 B2 - Chapter 22: The Topekan Accords

    What happened next, Terry could only piece together after the fact; the chaos of a battle between a dozen S-rankers and just as many A-rankers was not something a D-ranker could account for blow by blow.

    But what he did see made his stomach clench.

    A strangled millisecond held everyone in silence¡­and then all hell broke loose.

    Reach¡ªunperturbed by the sneak attack on his own teammate¡ªarced his polearm toward Sol¡¯s neck in a blistering attack.

    Silver moved faster.

    His hands clutched easily at the opposing Duelist¡¯s weapon, his expression calm even as Reach grimaced, his arms trembling with tension.

    Terry felt Hopper move next, her touch brushing across space, racing to open portals¡ªnot to send her enemies off the battlefield, but across their midsections, aiming to bisect them like a bad magician act.

    Marlon and Terry reacted at the same moment, reaching across the distance to quench her portals before they could slice through flesh. He felt his efforts batted aside by the S-ranker, but he hopped right back into the fight with a dogged determination.

    At the same moment Reach had struck, Necroton¡¯s scythe screamed through the air toward Dancer¡¯s neck in an eerie parallel of the fight between Reach and Silver. A bolt of pure lightning intercepted the blade, sending it off course.

    Static¡¯s aura began to charge for a second volley when the very stone reared up and enveloped his hands and feet, grounding him¡ªboth literally and metaphysically.

    Sol and Lift went for the unclaimed Elemental Singularity at the same time, both taking flight to approach Qui Shen¡¯s corpse. The air around Sol visibly wavered, dropping him from the sky just as a laser shot from his outstretched hand, searing Lift¡¯s chest. The two of them rolled to the stone floor mere feet from each other. Sol was still injured from his fight with Qui Shen, slow to recover from his crash, while Lift clutched at her chest and gasped ragged breaths.

    Purge flexed his Disruptor powers to cut Terraform off from his connection with the stone, but Terry¡¯s mother intercepted with her own aura, dissipating the attack with a simple tug, like pulling the thread from a frayed sweater to unravel the whole thing.

    There was no time to marvel at his mother¡¯s skill¡ªby his estimation, that all had accounted for the very first second of the fight. From there, he only managed to catch glimpses of the brawl as he turned his attention to aiding Marlon against Hopper and her A-ranked helper.

    Light flared, bodies moved fast enough to break the sound barrier, aura tsunamied throughout the cavern, blades crashed against blades, and the very earth trembled beneath their feet.

    Despite all that¡ªsomehow¡ªTerry survived the opening salvo. Thankfully for the other lower ranked Awakened, they¡¯d managed to flee through the portals before the violence had crescendoed.

    Which made Terry wonder, what the hell am I doing here¡­?

    But the truth of the matter was, he¡¯d never even considered leaving. Fleeing the fight, leaving both his grandfathers and his mother to clean up the mess¡­it just wasn¡¯t in his make up.

    He¡¯d never been in a fair fight¡ªnot in all his life. The draugr, a thousand sanguine, Savage¡ªthe odds hadn¡¯t been in his favor, not once.

    And yet, running away had never been an option in his mind. His family were fighters; it was in their genetics.

    So he continued pushing beside Marlon, throwing whatever strength and skill he possessed against the experience and power of Hopper. The two of them were losing, their weaker auras slowly chipped away at by the superior S-ranker. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that she wasn¡¯t portaling people in half in the meantime.

    A moment happened, the fight shifting perceptibly. It was a moment Terry couldn¡¯t follow blow-by-blow; it had all happened too fast for his eyes to follow. And yet, the instant it occurred, he somehow understood that the fight was over.

    Silver must have ripped Reach¡¯s polearm from his hands through brute strength. The Council Duelist went flying across the cavern to smash against the stone¡ªwhich welcomed him like a tomb, sucking him in whole.

    The polearm seemed to recognize Silver as the Duelist Prime and didn¡¯t buck against its new, temporary owner. When Silver hefted it high, then launched it like a javelin, the sound of its passage ripped across Terry¡¯s eardrums.

    Its target was sent flying from the impact, ragdolling backward like he¡¯d been struck by a semi-truck.

    When Dancer finally stopped rolling, a weighty pause settled upon the fight, an unspoken armistice taking root.

    Terry held his breath, five long, glacial seconds passing before someone spoke.

    ¡°R-retreat!¡± Hopper cried out. Her clothes were singed, her hair frayed, and her aura pulled in a dozen directions. But as she flexed her aura to open a portal, Terry and Marlon found her strength overwhelming.

    They tried to shut her down anyway, but Silver waved a hand toward them and the others.

    ¡°Let them go.¡± His metallic skin glistened in the light of Sol¡¯s magic, casting him as more golem than man. But the strength of his aura was undimmed, shining brighter than anything in the cavern. ¡°Let them all go¡­except him.¡±

    Every eye turned to follow Silver¡¯s stabbing finger, dozens of heads swiveling to stare at Dancer as he strained against the polearm wedged in his chest.

    Hopper blanched at the proclamation, meeting Dancer¡¯s gaze for the briefest second before flinching away.

    ¡°Hop¡­per¡­¡± Dancer¡¯s voice was wet, his lungs drowning in blood. A wracking cough shook him, crimson fluid spat onto the floor. ¡°You¡­wou¡ª¡± Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a second bout of coughs.

    Hopper kept her eyes averted, looking toward Silver, Necroton, and finally, Terry¡¯s mother.

    ¡°We-we were just doing what we were told¡ª¡±

    Silver moved so fast, Terry only knew it wasn¡¯t teleportation because he didn¡¯t pull on space. Hopper, on the other hand, clawed at space like a drowning victim. A flash from the Physical Singularity ripped apart her efforts with a brutal savagery, just as Silver¡¯s hand gripped her throat.

    His metal skin liquefied, sloughing away from his face like molten steel, revealing a face that made Hopper physically cry out in terror.

    Even from a distance, Terry could see his grandfather¡¯s snarl, his eyes pure silver, the killing intent splashing across his aura like blood in the water.

    His voice was low, gravelly, yet audible throughout the cavern as if by some magic.

    ¡°The greatest atrocities of this world were committed by those ¡®just doing what they were told.¡¯¡±

    For a moment, Terry felt¡ªno, he knew¡ªthat Silver was going to decapitate Hopper with a flex of his hand. Then, the moment passed, his aura shifted, and he slowly unwound his grip from her throat.

    Softly, he said, ¡°Be better, Hopper.¡± He turned to look at each of the S-rankers in attendance, his eyes passing over Static, Lift, Purge, and Reach, who had been released from the stone by Terraform. ¡°All of you, be better.¡±

    His mother stepped forward, her aura just as bright beside her father.

    ¡°And if you can¡¯t¡ª¡± Her finger lifted toward Dancer. ¡°¡ªwitness your fate.¡±

    Her words settled upon them like the proclamation of a goddess, sending a shiver up Hopper¡¯s back, while Lift and Purge shared a look that said, ¡®what the hell did we get ourselves into?¡¯

    ¡°Now go.¡± Silver released his grip on Hopper¡¯s aura and she didn¡¯t need to be told twice.

    Two portals ripped into existence with a desperate energy¡ªone leading back to Dallas, the other to Kansas City. The combatants fled through their respective portals, including Lady and the still breathing Bloodhound, who was carried through by his fireteam.

    The remaining friendly forces gathered together as one.

    There was Silver, Necroton, Sol, Terraform and his party, Marlon, Terry, his mother, and¡ª

    ¡°Really rousing speech, Silver!¡± a voice echoed out from somewhere. ¡°Inspiring!¡± Terry looked down to see the voice coming from inside Tinker¡¯s lifeless power armor. ¡°Now¡­can someone get me the fuck out of this tin can!¡±

    For a moment, no one moved, stunned expressions on every face. Terry laughed at that, and his mother glanced over, a light smile forming.

    As Silver reached down and began to liquefy Tinker¡¯s power armor away, his mother walked over, biting her lip anxiously.

    ¡°Terry, I¡­there¡¯s so much to say¡­¡±

    He considered watching her flounder, letting her feel uncomfortable as some small punishment for the breach of trust that had encompassed most of his life. But he hadn¡¯t realized until just this moment¡­he¡¯d forgiven her.

    She opened her mouth to say more, but she didn¡¯t get a chance as his body collided with hers, his arms wrapping around her as tight as he could squeeze. A distant part of his mind marveled that he was now taller than her, her head pressed firmly against his chest.

    ¡°Ter¡ª¡± Her voice caught and she tried to power through, but he shushed her, stroking her hair. The sobs took her then, and she squeezed tighter, clenching onto him as if to let go would mean death.

    He remembered back to when the Knights of Sol had ambushed them, how her grip on his hand had ground the little bones together. Now, her squeeze didn¡¯t faze him, and he just let himself enjoy the contact, resting his face against the top of her head. He wasn¡¯t going to cry¡ªdidn¡¯t feel it coming, didn¡¯t need it. Then, the smell of her hair invaded his nostrils, bringing back so many memories in a rush that his defenses were overwhelmed, batted aside like nothing.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Tears spilled from his eyes onto her hair and something clicked inside his chest, some weight retracting from his heart; a weight he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been feeling until this very second. As his tears began to fall harder, the sobs took him too and he just squeezed his mother as tight as he could, hoping this moment would carry on forever.

    He didn¡¯t know how long they embraced like that before Silver cleared his throat. Terry¡¯s head shot up in annoyance and that was when it hit him.

    The unclaimed Elemental Singularity pulsed with a terrible wail on his soul, drowning him in its need to be heard.

    Whether his mother had been saving him from the sensation or the raw need of their embrace had trumped the reality-bending power he now felt, he couldn¡¯t be sure. But now that he did feel it, it was like a burr digging behind his eyes.

    Slowly, his mother extricated herself from his arms, her pained expression mirroring his own childish want to pull her back in again. But in a flash, her face shifted, flowing into a steady, business-like expression.

    Across the way, Dancer clutched at the polearm stuck deep in his chest. Wet, sucking breaths came erratically, the light in his eyes visibly dimming.

    As Silver and his mother approached him, his pained expression turned panicked, his irises flitting about¡ªfor allies, salvation¡­anything.

    Silver and his mother stood over Dancer now, just as a System message came in to Terry.

    Dancer of New York has requested a private channel. Accept?

    He stared at that notification for a split second, then accepted.

    <blockquote>

    [Dancer]: Son, tell them to let me live! I¡¯ll give up my Singularities! I¡¯ll agree to whatever they want!

    </blockquote>

    Terry read and reread that message, stunned silent for the moment. Then, he felt his other grandfather¡¯s glance, knew that Necroton had received a similar message. He met his grandfather¡¯s eyes; saw the unasked question there.

    What do you want to do?

    He considered that for a breath. What do I want to do? Somehow, deep down, he knew that if he pressed the issue, his mother and Silver would relent; knew that Necroton would back him. He didn¡¯t know how, it was just a feeling deep in his gut.

    But for some reason¡­he didn¡¯t want to push for clemency, didn¡¯t want them to pardon Dancer. There was an insidiousness to the man who had dominated the other S-rankers of North America, a rotten core that Terry didn¡¯t think could ever be purged.

    He didn¡¯t know how Dancer could find a way to work against them¡ªthey would have six Singularities between their coalition, and a seventh once he called back the Metaphysical.

    And yet, something told him that to spare Dancer would bring retribution down on them, someway or another.

    With a shift of his head, he told the Emperor all of that and more.

    His grandfather¡¯s eyebrows flicked once in surprise, then he nodded in agreement.

    Dancer didn¡¯t miss the exchange¡ªpunctured lungs or not. Desperation lit across his face as he stirred his aura for one singular, explosive attack.

    Before it could coalesce, Silver plucked Reach¡¯s polearm from his chest and finished Dancer with a stab in the heart. The gathering aura slowed, turbid and lazy, before dissipating entirely. Dancer¡¯s eyes lost their magic, dulled, then turned glassy.

    The light fled them entirely as his body went slack.

    Two echoing cries rang up from Dancer and a beat later, his Singularities slipped free from his flesh, rising into the air above him.

    Without any indication, Terry knew instinctively which was the Mental Singularity and which was the Presence Singularity.

    The three exposed Singularities created a rotating ripple of aura around the cavern, brushing across Terry¡¯s senses, both distracting and intoxicating. He felt an unconscious pull toward them, but managed to clear his head with a quick shake.

    Sol coughed into his fist and all eyes turned to him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to claim any of these,¡± he started. ¡°Though the Elemental sings in my thoughts, I understand that we¡¯re on the cusp of electing the Omega¡­¡± He hesitated as if embarrassed to continue.

    ¡°What is it, Uncle Sol?¡± his mother asked.

    He glanced toward the Elemental Singularity, sighing deeply.

    ¡°I wish to reclaim my home.¡± His voice grew sturdier, full of a fire that had began to kindle once more as he had defied Qui Shen. ¡°I wish to remove that blight infecting Topeka, once and for all.¡±

    Terraform stepped forward, nodding heavily.

    ¡°You mean the Black Wall, don¡¯t you? I¡¯ll lend what expertise I have to help in anyway I can.¡±

    ¡°So will I,¡± his mother said. She turned toward Silver. ¡°What¡¯d you say, Dad? Kick the Council and SPC outta Topeka for good?¡±

    Terry watched as a roguish smile touched Silver¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Hell, Pen, my blood¡¯s still pumpin¡¯. Let¡¯s go put those fuckers on notice.¡±

    <hr>

    Sol, with the Elemental Singularity in his chest, flew high above Topeka, shining brighter than any star on the darkest night. All around the city, civilians and the Market refugees watched as he promised them freedom from the tyranny of the super elite, a refuge against the machinations of Dancer, the Council, and their ilk. He spoke of democracy, elected officials, and freedom from even his own power. He would be the guardian of that democracy, only acting in its interest.

    He ended his speech by harnessing the Elemental Singularity, turning his power upon the Black Wall that blighted Topeka, running like a scar down its middle.

    Wherever his light touched, the Wall began to lose its structural integrity. Pieces began to fall from the top, rushing to the ground below. As the giant blocks of the Wall were about to strike, Terraform stirred his element and caught the massive debris, reincorporating it with the earth.

    Further down the structure, Silver smashed the Wall with his fists and pulses of the Material Singularity, while his mother used her aura to dissipate the magic holding it together. Tinker, in an earlier model of his power armor, floated around and dispersed nano bots that began to eat away at the Wall.

    As for Necroton and Terry, they found James and Terry couldn¡¯t resist the urge to throw himself into his father¡¯s arms.

    Thankfully for his dignity, he managed to keep any tears at bay.

    When they separated, his father held him at arm¡¯s length, eyeing him up and down.

    ¡°I only saw you a while ago, but you¡¯re so¡­different. Older looking, more mature.¡±

    Terry snorted, wiping at his chin.

    ¡°Must be the peach fuzz filling in.¡±

    His dad smiled, but there was a seriousness to his eyes that sobered Terry up.

    ¡°I mean it, Ter. I haven¡¯t heard the whole story yet, but from what I did hear¡­I¡¯m so proud of you.¡±

    Scratch that, the tears had decided they did want to come, after all.

    He managed to shove them down after a few moments of effort and smiled back at his father.

    ¡°Thanks, Dad.¡±

    James nodded, then looked over Terry¡¯s shoulder at something. Terry turned to follow his gaze and caught his mother approaching from the air.

    With a desperation in his voice that Terry had only ever heard twice, James cried out to her.

    ¡°Pen! Oh, my God! You¡¯re alive!¡±

    He crossed the hundred yards between them in superhuman fashion, dashing into her arms hard enough to send them both tumbling to the ground.

    Terry watched his parents kiss and hug in a way that once would have made him beet red and wishing to be anywhere else in the entire universe.

    Now¡­he simply smiled.

    At his side, the Emperor spoke.

    ¡°Doubt her methods. Doubt his choices. But never doubt their love for you or each other. That¡¯s more solid that the very earth we stand on.¡±

    Terry side-eyed his grandfather in surprise, but couldn¡¯t find fault in anything he said, even if he had plenty to fault in the man himself.

    Before he could reply, a series of notifications scrolled into view.

    Quest Complete: [Free Topeka]

    Calculating reward¡­

    One talent point awarded

    Aura Projection: D7 ¡ú D9

    Aura Control: D8 ¡ú D9

    Aura Perception: D9 ¡ú C0

    Presence Average: D8 ¡ú D9

    New Quest Given: [Deny the Omega]

    Prevent the Omega from forming.

    Reward: A special item to aid you on your Midmark Quest.

    He stared at that new Quest in disbelief. His mouth opened and shut as he instinctively went to ask his grandfather about it, then realized he couldn¡¯t.

    Beneath the Quest, a System Note populated as if the Weaver had doubted that he would buy in to its request.

    System Note: Please trust me, Terry¡­

    All around him, the cacophony of the Black Wall¡¯s destruction rang in his ears. And yet, all he could think about were those last words by his System.

    Please trust me, Terry¡­

    A distant part of his mind realized his parents were in front of him, had said something to him¡ªprobably more than once. He shook his head, blinking a few times before his ears would process the words.

    ¡°Terry? Are you okay?¡± his mother asked, a look of concern on her face.

    He raised his eyebrows, feigning an easy look.

    ¡°Yeah, fine, fine. Sorry, what were you saying?¡±

    She studied him a moment longer as if trying to peer through any cracks in his facade. Not finding any, she seemed temporarily mollified.

    ¡°Sol said you somehow teleported the Metaphysical Singularity away.¡± A wry smile touched her lips. ¡°Which you¡¯re gonna have to explain to me at some point.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Anyway, I can sense it roaming through the earth below. Your grandfather could go snag it, but it¡¯d be simpler if you could bring it back¡­¡±

    She trailed off and he realized his anxiety must have reappeared on his face.

    He forced a smile on, waving away her still forming question.

    ¡°Yeah, easy peasy. Give me one second.¡±

    He turned away so she wouldn¡¯t see his face drop as his thoughts churned.

    Deny the Omega¡­Why¡­

    A part of him considered just ignoring the Quest¡ªthere didn¡¯t appear to be any punishment if he did. And he didn¡¯t think the Weaver would do that, anyway. It wasn¡¯t like his mother¡¯s System or even his father and grandfather¡¯s. The Weaver hadn¡¯t given him any reason to doubt or question it. The opposite, really. It had guided him toward the truth of his mother and her memory manipulation. It had led him to feeding Wichita and bringing light back to a besieged city.

    All of this, Wichita, Topeka, the Market¡ªit all seemed orchestrated by the Weaver on some level. His reunion with his mother, Sol¡¯s recovery, and the Market¡¯s residents surviving to make it to the surface.

    Did any of that happen without the Weaver directing me?

    Those thoughts coalesced into a decision. The evidence was just too overwhelming.

    With a pull through their connection, he directed¡ªno, asked, really¡ªfor the Singularity to return to him. He felt its answering cry and knew it was drawing on his aura to punch through space on a return path.

    ¡°It¡¯s on the way back,¡± he said, turning to face his parents¡ªand the other S-rankers, he realized.

    At some point, they had finished tearing down the Black Wall and were all gathered now.

    ¡°Well, now comes the weird part,¡± Silver said with a chagrined smile. ¡°Who¡¯re we gonna pick to become the Omega?¡±

    Necroton growled, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°We already know who it¡¯s gonna be, you fool.¡±

    Silver looked around in confusion, the unasked question obvious in his eyes.

    ¡°Not you!¡± Necroton practically yelled. His gaze turned to Terry¡¯s mother expectantly.

    Silver looked to his daughter, his eyes widening briefly before a smile touched his face.

    ¡°Can¡¯t say I disagree.¡±

    Sol nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve known Penelope since she was a baby. There¡¯s no one I¡¯d rather have as the Omega.¡±

    Terry felt the Metaphysical Singularity approaching, their connection like a live wire on his mind. His anxiety seemed to edge higher the closer it neared, until he was barely listening.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never met the White Rose before,¡± Terraform started. ¡°But your reputation is second to none.¡± He smiled, nudging Terry. ¡°And if your son is anything to go by, that reputation is well earned.¡±

    Silver looked around for a moment before speaking.

    ¡°All opposed, say nay.¡± He waited a beat, but it was obvious no one was going to speak up. ¡°All for, say aye.¡±

    Necroton grunted in annoyance, but repeated it. Sol and Terraform followed a moment later. Silver threw out an echoing ¡®aye¡¯, full of cheer.

    And then they looked toward Terry.

    ¡°Terry?¡± his mother asked. ¡°Are you okay? You look sick.¡±

    It was near¡ªso damn near.

    He shook his head, his eyes wide but staring at nothing.

    ¡°No, Mom¡­I¡¯m not okay.¡±

    She reached out, a look of concern on her face.

    That was when the Singularity materialized in his hand. Waves of power rolled off it, echoing with its siblings inside the others standing nearby. He felt all eyes turn to it expectantly, waiting for him to hand it over.

    He shoved it into his chest.

    Pain seared him, radiating out like the spokes of a wheel, singeing his limbs, his arteries and veins, his eyeballs, the fingernails on his hands, until he thought he might black out.

    With one last effort of will, he accepted his Midmark Quest.

    ¡°TERRY!¡± his mother cried.

    He was falling. Silver rushed to catch him but even superhuman speed had limits.

    Everything turned black for the briefest flash. Words seared across his vision.

    Summons accepted.

    ¡­

    Thank you for trusting me, Terry.

    Then, sensation returned to his body, and along with it, the pain. The sound of howling filled his ears, the bitter, biting wind cutting at his skin. Cold tried to infect him, but was hounded by the warmth of the Singularity in his chest.

    Another notification came in then, chilling him to the bone despite that warmth.

    Welcome to the Underworld¡­

 B2 - Chapter 23: Welcome to the Underworld

    Part Two: The Underworld

    The white-hot fire coursing through his limbs cut through the adrenaline, the cold, and the fear, blanking his mind, paralyzing his limbs. It was only the intuitive knowledge deep in the back of his thoughts, the knowledge that the Singularity was about to burn him from the inside out and leave him a dried husk, that forced him to return to awareness.

    Hanging before his eyes were the notifications he knew he needed to read in order to survive.

    With a desperate effort of will, he stirred his vision, focusing on the words in front of him.

    Quest Complete: [Deny the Omega]

    Reward granted: [Aura Filtering Container ¡ª S-grade]

    Quest Revealed: [Midmark Quest] ¡ú [Restore the Bloodsplatter Clan to their Ancestral Home]

    The Bloodsplatter Clan was exiled to the Surface many years past. Help them reclaim their home in the Underworld proper.

    Reward: C-rank, the goodwill of the Bloodsplatter Clan, and a return trip home.

    Bonus Objective: Restore the Lakarot to power.

    Bonus Reward: Variable.

    New Quest Given: [Stronger Together]

    Every hero needs a team. Find yours.

    [5 of 5] living.

    Objective: Keep your team alive.

    Reward: Variable.

    Despite reading the words, his brain couldn¡¯t seem to process their meaning through the pain. He recognized something about his Quest updating, but the specifics fuzzed in his mind. Then there was that reward¡­a filtering something.

    Past the words in his eyes, he spotted a metal cube no wider than his hand. For the briefest moment, he swore there was a flash of light around it, like a corona trying to snag his attention.

    His arm was stiff, his hands felt frozen. He tried to reach the cube but realized he was buried in something. Through the pain, he turned his attention to unburying himself. Distantly¡ªas he clawed his way out from under¡ªhe realized it was snow pinning him down.

    That explains the bitter cold¡­

    He breached the top layer, his hand frozen in a claw shape as he reached for the cube. Well, reach was a strong word. He more threw his arm forward, and his hand-claw flopped on top of the cube.

    A notification immediately scrolled into view.

    Deposit item, [Unknown], into [Aura Filtering Container ¡ª S-grade]?

    He had to reread the words three times, his consciousness flickering from the waves of power emanating from deep inside his chest.

    Is the Singularity the item? he wondered.

    This felt like such a simple question, but the alternating cold and warmth was sapping his energy, turning his thoughts to mud.

    Yes, he decided, it probably was.

    He thought he accepted the prompt, but the black was slinking in from the corners, narrowing his vision along with his thoughts.

    I accept, he said in his head. I accept. I accept. I¡­

    There was no indication if it had worked as he drifted off. His only thought in that moment was that he finally felt comfortable, warm¡­content. He let his mind go, falling back into the warmth with a soft smile.

    <hr>

    Terry¡¯s thoughts crawled out of the cold step-by-step, first in a jumble, then finally lining up into some form of coherence.

    The first thing he noticed was the cold wasn¡¯t as bone-biting as it had seemed before. One explanation could have been that the frostbite had fully settled in and he was on death¡¯s door. Then again, the furs draped over his body were another plausible reason.

    Furs¡­?

    He jerked awake in a panic¡ªand immediately regretted it.

    Everything hurt, from the tips of his toes, up to the ache in his ears. But worst of all was the burning emptiness deep inside his chest¡ªa gaping wound that cried out, a phantom pain that echoed in his soul.

    Realizing what that must have meant, he clawed around for the cube, the pain from a moment before now a distant memory in the wake of his panic. He forced his eyes open through the rime that had held them tight, taking in his surroundings for the first time.

    He appeared to be in a dark cave, the wind howling through like the wraiths of Wichita. Not too far from where he lay stood the narrow entrance, just wide enough to fit his shoulders and tall enough that he wouldn¡¯t have to bend his head. Past that, snow swirled in the dark, a blanket of white that stormed with a terrible wailing.

    Twisting uncomfortably, he glanced over his shoulder¡ªand nearly jumped out of his skin.

    Four people-like shapes lingered in the inky dark of the deepest portion of the cave. Only their barest silhouettes were visible and they clearly had something held between them that they were leaning over.

    With a flex of his power, he activated Master of Light and¡ª

    Searing electricity splashed across his aura, like touching a live wire. He immediately released his hold, falling back into the furs with a silent gasp, his eyes clenched tight against the pain. Three ragged breaths later, he felt along his aura with a tentative touch.

    It was raw, frayed from the center extending out¡­right where the Singularity had been nestled.

    The Singularity!

    He snapped open his eyes again, ignoring the edge to his nerves and wheel of pain spiraling out from his chest.

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    Standing over him were the four silhouettes¡ªnow faintly visible against the backdrop of the snowstorm outside.

    As he cried out, they too recoiled in obvious shock, though they recovered a moment later. They leaned back in, clearly as interested in him as he was surprised by them.

    From this distance, he could see more of the four figures and it was immediately obvious that they weren¡¯t all human.

    The first one he noticed was short and wide¡ªbarely reaching the waists of the other people, while just as broad as Terry at the shoulders. It had a rodent-like face with an extended snout and whiskers on its cheeks. But from what little light there was, he could see an intelligent glint in its eyes as it surveyed Terry up and down with an almost clinical appraisal.

    The next figure was human¡ªa boy roughly Terry¡¯s age, with dark skin and hair and stubble on his chin that either spoke to a teenager¡¯s desperate desire for a man¡¯s beard or the irregular growth of someone who had no access to shaving equipment.

    Terry didn¡¯t like what the latter implied about how long they¡¯d been here.

    Beside the boy was a lithe and wiry non-human. He assumed non-human because he counted six fingers¡­and four arms. They were the tallest of the four, but rail thin in comparison to the rodent-faced person.

    The last person seemed human too, though there was an exotic cast to the few identifiers that made him wonder if she¡ªhe was pretty confident they were a she¡ªwas from Earth or some other human-occupied world.

    She had a striking jaw with cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper. He couldn¡¯t see her eyes, but he felt their gaze without realizing how. Large, black-rock earrings sat heavy on her lobes, nearly the size of her entire ear and she had a matching necklace visible through the skins she wore.

    His eyes tracked down¡ªvery purposefully not examining anything else about her that might have sparked an issue¡ªand caught on the device held loosely in her hand.

    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s mine!¡±

    He moved to grab the cube that he assumed contained the Singularity, but his limbs betrayed him, a splash of new fire washing across his chest.

    The girl pulled away instinctively, glanced down at the cube, then held it out silently. His hand reached up weakly, pulling it tight to his chest.

    The other human-looking person didn¡¯t remain silent. He gasped, his eyes widening.

    ¡°English?¡± he asked, his accent sounding familiar to Terry¡¯s ears, but hard to place with the wave of pain flaring throughout his body. ¡°You¡¯re from Earth!¡±

    Terry looked at the dark-skinned boy, his eyes widening once he realized the implication; he had someone to actually explain what was going on.

    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m from Earth! Terry from W¡ª¡± He stopped himself as a thought occurred to him. Wichita¡ªand more specifically, the Emperor¡ªhad connotations around it that could potentially affect their feelings of him. ¡°¡ªfrom West Topeka,¡± he amended.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The boy seemed not to notice his hesitation, his excitement getting the better of him.

    ¡°Oh, thank God! My name¡¯s Juan. I¡¯m from Mexico City.¡± He put a hand on the small, rodent-faced alien. ¡°This here¡¯s Chippy¡ªwell, Chialpuncritis¡ªbut none of us can pronounce it quite right.¡± The alien sniffed with his large snout, then waved a little paw in greeting. Juan moved to indicate the four-armed alien, when the human girl smacked his arm, her eyes widening with obvious annoyance.

    Terry glanced between the two of them in confusion. Juan rubbed at the back of his neck with a chagrined expression.

    ¡°Sorry, uh, Terry. We have a rule that we only talk in Team Chat. None of us speak the same language and uh¡­¡± Juan looked noticeably uncomfortable, rubbing at his elbow as if remembering some old injury. ¡°¡­there were some disagreements early on.¡±

    Terry squinted at the four of them, not quite liking what he was sensing. Before he could question Juan further, movement at the cave entrance drew his gaze behind the four of them and his eyes widened in shock.

    They noticed his look, flipping around as one to watch the figure approaching the entrance through the raging blizzard.

    He felt his heart begin to race as the silhouette grew closer. Whatever it was was large, clearly standing taller than the entrance and noticeably wider. As it approached, it hesitated at the doorway, examining something for a moment before looking inside. When it leaned its head down to peer in, Terry felt a flash of fear grip him.

    Long braids dipped over its shoulder, ornamented with beads, bits of glass, and clinking metal shaped into unknown animals. A large fur cloak was draped over its shoulder, giving it a larger silhouette than what was actually underneath¡ªthough Terry noted it was still quite large. At its hip, he saw two leather sheathes, but realized a moment later that they were empty.

    That was little consolation, given the claws he saw slipping free from its fingers.

    He prepared to stir his aura through the raw, abrading pain; at the bare minimum, he could try and blind the creature with his Master of Light.

    What happened next threw him off so thoroughly, he could only process it after the fact.

    As the thing eyed them with an anger that even its alien anatomy couldn¡¯t obfuscate, notifications rolled into Terry¡¯s view. He ignored them for the moment, watching as the creature¡ªand all four of the people standing over him¡ªbecame encased in a corona of light.

    It was a System indicator¡­

    Quest Updated: [Stronger Together]

    Every hero needs a team. Find yours.

    Update ¡ú Team identified. Marking on your interface.

    Next Step: Survive the Underworld.

    (Optional) Work together.

    [5 of 5] living.

    Reward: Variable

    Join Team Chat?

    Past the words in his eyes, he saw the newcomer waving its hand emphatically at the doorway, then toward Terry. Then, the human girl indicated Terry with an equally impassioned gesture, shaking her head toward the newcomer.

    What was strange about it all was that the exchange was entirely silent. At first, he considered they were doing a rudimentary sign language, but then his brain caught up to the notifications and what Juan had said a minute earlier.

    With a thought, he accepted the Team Chat invite.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I don¡¯t care if she was cold! Now the whole shelter is cold!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: It¡¯s a him. And should we have let him die, then?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Maybe. Look at him. He¡¯s weak and helpless, just like the rest of them. Just another mouth to feed.

    </blockquote>

    The newcomer, Al¡¯Ruzan, huffed indignantly, stepping back out of the cave before returning a second later with a body clutched by a hindleg. It dragged the body into the cave, throwing it roughly to the floor.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Chippy, skin this.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan tossed a small knife toward the diminutive Chippy, who caught the knife with a little squeak. As Chippy rushed forward, the four-armed alien joined it, helping to drag the body deeper into the cave. As they passed, Terry realized the body was a dire wolf not unlike his father¡¯s summons, Skol and Hati, though this one was far, far smaller.

    Behind them, Al¡¯Ruzan studied Terry for a moment, then stomped forward with heavy strides, reaching down toward him. For the briefest moment, he thought Al¡¯Ruzan was going to attack him. But its clawed hand reached down, gripped the furs covering him, and ripped them away.

    A wash of bitter cold snatched the air from his lungs and he started shivering immediately. He was only wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and cursed himself¡ªand the Weaver¡ªfor not preparing at all for the weather.

    No one said anything as Al¡¯Ruzan stomped back toward the cave entrance, but Juan gave him a sympathetic look, while Mara-Lin-Jaid scowled at Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s back.

    A moment later, she took the fur off her own shoulders, draping it over Terry.

    ¡°Th-thank y-you,¡± he chattered, meeting her eyes.

    Al¡¯Ruzan whirled around from where he was hanging the furs, his eyes flashing furiously as he stared toward Terry. He crossed the small cavern in a single lunge, yanking the furs off and hauling him to his feet by a grip on his arm.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We only speak in Team Chat, fresh meat. Is that clear?

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared into Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face, finally getting a close enough glimpse to see his alien features in the dim light. His eyes were yellow like a cat¡¯s, piercing, searching for some hint of defiance. His teeth were long, resting over his lips. At first, they seemed more like fangs, but from this close up, Terry realized they were actually filed into points. His skin was blue-green, pockmarked and scarred, reminding him a bit of Whipvine¡¯s snarling scars.

    As they locked eyes, a wave of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s hot breath washed across his face, making Terry furl his nose with disgust. It smelled of rot and raw meat. He supposed he couldn¡¯t blame the alien¡ªhe doubted there was toothpaste in the Underworld.

    Al¡¯Ruzan noticed his expression, his eyes narrowing in renewed rage. He shook Terry violently, sparking fresh pain in his arm.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Are you simple? Answer me!

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose as he forced his thoughts away from the agony spearing through his arm. For a moment, he considered ignoring the alien, but his aura was still raw and his skin frozen; he doubted he could even stand if Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t holding him upright, let alone fight the towering alien.

    All the same, he wasn¡¯t going to let this guy manhandle him whenever he wanted.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I understand. Now let go of my arm.

    </blockquote>

    He saw Chippy and the four-armed alien exchange frightful glances, while Juan¡¯s eyes went wide in shock. As for Al¡¯Ruzan, his eyes narrowed dangerously and Terry knew he¡¯d have to fight back, even if he was currently outmatched.

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s free arm reared up to backhand him and Terry clenched his teeth against the pain of his aura as he prepared to strike back with his own Skills¡ªwhen Mara-Lin-Jaid stepped between them, turning to face Al¡¯Ruzan.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Enough, Al¡¯Ruzan. He¡¯s been here less than an hour and unconscious for most of that.

    </blockquote>

    She placed a hand on his upraised arm, like she was soothing a bucking bull.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Why don¡¯t you go rest. We¡¯ll have the meat ready in a couple hours.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan clicked his filed teeth together thoughtfully, glancing over Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s shoulder to eye Terry.

    Terry held his gaze, not giving an inch, but not prodding the alien into a fight either.

    Al¡¯Ruzan snarled once, then released Terry¡¯s arm, shoving him hard enough to send him sprawling to the stone floor. It hurt but he wouldn¡¯t let the pain show as he rolled to his hands and knees. With his aura already stirring, he kept it going past the exposed, raw feeling, activating Master of Light to control the infrared light escaping his skin. A simple pull brought it back in, warming him¡ªor rather, not letting him get any colder¡ªas he clambered up to one foot, then the other.

    He shook unsteadily as he gained his feet, but kept his eyes on Al¡¯Ruzan as the apparent leader stared into Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. Terry got the impression there was a private chat going on between the two of them¡ªwhich seemed hypocritical, given all the fuss about only speaking in Team Chat.

    After a tense moment where the others stared toward them out of the corners of their eyes, Al¡¯Ruzan finally relaxed, letting out a stiff bark that sounded like his version of a laugh.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Fine, I¡¯ll let you live, fresh meat. But you don¡¯t eat unless you contribute.

    </blockquote>

    He waved back toward the dire wolf corpse.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Help the weaklings skin it.

    </blockquote>

    With that proclamation, Al¡¯Ruzan retreated to the back of the cave where a fur bed waited for him. It was obvious from the way he laid into it that the bed was his and only his.

    Which explained why the others hadn¡¯t deposited Terry there, instead risking his ire by claiming the makeshift cave door.

    When he turned back from watching Al¡¯Ruzan, he met Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. There was no expression there as they stared at each other¡ªa disinterest, if he had to guess what he was seeing. But then a notification appeared and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid has request a System chat. Accept?

    He shrugged, indicating yes with a thought. Her response rolled in immediately.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: That¡¯s the last time I pull your ass out of the fire. Next time you antagonize him, you¡¯re on your own.

    </blockquote>

    Before he could reply, she strode toward the cave exit, picking up the discarded fur to hang it back up against the cold.

    Terry turned to see Juan also watching him, a hint of hope and trepidation mingling in his eyes.

    He sent a chat invite to the boy, knew it arrived from the panicked look he sent Al¡¯Ruzan, then saw Juan¡¯s reply come back.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Bro, we really shouldn¡¯t be talking like this. Big Al¡¯s really particular about us talking in secret.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s his deal? Why¡¯s he acting like we¡¯re in Lord of the Flies or something?

    </blockquote>

    Juan cast another harried look toward Al¡¯Ruzan, but the temperamental alien had his furs pulled completely over his face. All the same, Juan put an arm around Terry and pulled him toward the dire wolf corpse where Chippy was quietly slicing away its fur.

    He crouched down next to Chippy and Terry grimaced as he fought through his frozen, aching muscles to join the two. Juan pretended to be busy helping as he sent Terry more messages.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Big Al was the first of the team to be summoned. He won¡¯t say, but we think he¡¯s been here for a year. Maybe two.

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened at the revelation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡­really sucks. But this is it, right? We¡¯ve got the five team members and we can start doing whatever it is we need to do.

    </blockquote>

    From the look on Juan¡¯s face, Terry got the impression it wasn¡¯t as black and white as he had thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: I¡¯m not sure, bro. Other than going out to get you, we never leave the cave. Mara-Lin-Jaid had a vision that you arrived, which is the only reason Al didn¡¯t rip into us more. He¡¯s the only one that goes out, and that¡¯s only to hunt us food. Even then, we have to give most of it in tribute to the monster.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°The monst¡ª¡± Terry started, but the startled hisses from not only Juan, but Chippy and the four-armed alien made him clamp his mouth shut.

    Chippy slapped his arm lightly, then nodded toward Juan with a scolding look.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Don¡¯t talk, bro! Or Al¡¯s gonna beat us all up.

    </blockquote>

    He watched Terry as if wondering if he¡¯d violate their rule again. But Terry simply sighed, then nodded for Juan to continue.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s this monster, then?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: I¡¯ve never seen it, but I hear it whenever Al brings back food. It scratches the cave wall outside if we don¡¯t have its tribute waiting.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay¡­if you¡¯ve never seen it, why¡¯re you so afraid? Why pay tribute at all?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Mara-Lin-Jaid was here¡ªshe¡¯s been here the longest besides Big Al. She told us once in secret that Al refused to part with his hunt one time and it came into the cave and whooped him around before taking the entire kill. Next time, he gave it what it wanted and it left a quarter for them.

    </blockquote>

    Terry sat back on his heels after reading that message, his mind whirling. Two years¡­two years with nothing but this cave, the occasional hunt, and dire wolf meat. Not to mention the monster demanding more than its fair share of whatever you did bring back.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What about this Quest? You make any progress? What¡¯s the Lakarot? And any clue where the Bloodsplatter Clan is located?

    </blockquote>

    Terry didn¡¯t know as much about the Underworld as the grandson of Emperor Necroton should¡ªhis grandfather had never spoken of his visits here. What little Terry knew of the Underworld had been picked up from Crunch, Hoping Tree, and the visions he¡¯d experienced right before his Awakening.

    But the name Bloodsplatter was eerily reminiscent of Crunch¡¯s clan, Bonesplinter. It tracked that they would be of a similar composition, liches, ghouls, wraiths, and so on.

    And Terry¡¯s ghoulish had dramatically improved over the past couple of years.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, Juan, here¡¯s the deal. I¡¯m not content with just sitting in this cave for two years and hoping this Quest solves itself.

    I have some experience with the denizens of the Underworld and can even speak Ghoulish. So if we¡¯re gonna get back to Earth, I¡¯m gonna need you to tell me everything you know.

    </blockquote>

    Juan¡¯s eyes had widened as he read further into Terry¡¯s message, then shifted as he neared the end. Surprise eventually morphed into excitement, then¡­hope.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Okay, let me start at the beginning¡­

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 24: The Fight

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What do you mean, you¡¯re a Fire Elementalist!? Why in the Underworld are we freezing our asses off?

    </blockquote>

    Juan took on an indignant look, clearly prepared to respond with some scathing remark, when Chippy and the four-armed alien¡ªPy Dar, or Py for short¡ªboth huffed in annoyance.

    They¡¯d been relaying each of their private conversations back and forth. For some reason, they couldn¡¯t create a System group chat¡ªand Terry had never heard of the possibility anyway. And since the three of them were deathly afraid of Al¡¯Ruzan, they were forced to copy everything they said in private to all three other participants.

    It had seemed unnecessarily tedious at first and Terry had been tempted to buck the arbitrary rule and risk a confrontation with the giant, sleeping alien. But from the looks of fear in their eyes¡ªand the little tidbit from Juan that Al¡¯Ruzan was a Duelist¡ªhe realized that any fight between the two of them would stay between the two of them.

    And Terry¡¯s aura was still raw, exposed like an open wound.

    But things would not stay like this, he vowed. He was gonna finish this Quest, he was gonna get back home¡ªhome to his father, home to his mother¡ªand go back to living his life. There was too much to be done on Earth to waste time in this wasteland.

    Which meant¡ªat least for the time being¡ªhe had to copy every damn message he sent over to Chippy and Py. The only reason he agreed was because it was apparently pretty easy to do with a simple mental command.

    Still, it was the principle of the matter that rubbed him the wrong way.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Yes! I¡¯m a Fire Elementalist.

    </blockquote>

    He looked around with raised eyebrows.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: But I can¡¯t make fire out of thin air. And fire needs fuel. And fuel needs to be dry to burn. How do you reckon we¡¯re gonna get something dry enough to burn in this freeze-my-balls-off cave!?

    </blockquote>

    As they spoke in secret, giving Terry the quick and dirty rundown on their time in the Underworld, their powersets, even their home lives¡ªthough Terry saw the pain flicker in their eyes when they discussed that topic¡ªthey continued to skin and dress the dire wolf.

    Juan was the latest to arrive before Terry, accepting the summons from Earth about two months prior. Py¡ªwho was an Artificer¡ªhad arrived six months back, with Chippy¡ªa Savant¡ªonly preceding her by a couple weeks.

    As far as they knew, Mara-Lin-Jaid had been here almost a year.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So what have you been doing with the meat? Just eating it raw?

    </blockquote>

    Py furled her nose at the suggestion, while Chippy shrugged as if that wasn¡¯t the worst thing in the world.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Ew, no bro. I may not have fire, but I can stimulate the heat already inside the wolf to cook it. Well, eventually. Takes nearly a day and I¡¯m wiped after.

    </blockquote>

    Terry noticed the very obvious problem with that statement.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: And before you got here?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: We eat raw, of course.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Never again! Never leave us, Juan!

    </blockquote>

    Juan chuckled at that, then went wide eyed as Al¡¯Ruzan made a stirring sound in his bed behind Terry. He looked back but couldn¡¯t see the alien¡¯s face past his furs. Near his bed, Mara-Lin-Jaid was resting with her back against the cave wall, her eyes closed. At Juan¡¯s chuckle, her eyes flicked open, seemed to stare at them disapprovingly¡ªthough it was hard to tell in the dark cave¡ªthen shut once more.

    Content that they¡¯d dodged reprisal from Big Al, Terry decided to cut to the chase.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So what¡¯s his deal, exactly? I get not wanting to feel excluded. But you can¡¯t speak when he¡¯s asleep? Even in System chats?

    </blockquote>

    Juan instinctively glanced toward Py, who nodded silently, as if taking up the burden of answering.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Al¡¯Ruzan is part of the Dirg¡¯Ghee. My own race has interacted with them over the millennia, even warring from time to time when we¡¯ve disputed over planets.

    They are a martial race and hierarchy is everything to them. Al¡¯Ruzan is not his name¡ªhe has no name until he has earned it through combat. Al is a title given to their royalty based on clan affiliation, while Ruzan means something like ¡®promised¡¯.

    </blockquote>

    Py shrugged, the gesture oddly comical with her four arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I can¡¯t be certain, but I think it¡¯s supposed to mean something like Eventual Royalty or Promised Nobility or some silly nonsense. A marker of potential, I think.

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded, the pieces finally clicking into place. Big Al had big plans for his life and being trapped in the Underworld for two years hadn¡¯t been on his bingo card. And with no realistic avenue to complete their joint Quest, he had decided to make the best of his situation.

    More than that, a rigid hierarchy meant two things: he couldn¡¯t abide a challenge to his authority¡­and he expected a mutiny¡ªit wasn¡¯t if, but when.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, things are starting to make sense. Next big question mark. This monster, what gives? It¡¯s clearly smart enough not to just wipe us out and eat us¡ªBig Al¡¯s providing it regular meals, after all.

    </blockquote>

    But by that very fact, it¡¯s also not trapping us in here. Big Al goes hunting every few days, right?

    He looked between the three of them, carefully studying their reactions to his next question.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So the question is¡­why haven¡¯t you all made a break for it? Surely you realize the status quo can¡¯t hold up? Better risk it and die than spend two years in here.

    </blockquote>

    Only because he was watching their faces so closely, did he see the thoughtful expressions turn into utter terror. He only had a half-second warning before he was violently pulled up from a crouch and pinned to the cave wall by two powerful hands.

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s talons dug into his skin, drawing blood that immediately chilled his flesh. That familiar wave of hot, foul breath washed over his face as the giant alien barked something in an incomprehensible language.

    Terry squirmed under Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s grip for a moment, but then the shock was burned away by the anger.

    ¡°Get your fucking hands off me!¡±

    His grip tightened, pulling a gasp from his lungs. Al¡¯Ruzan growled more alien words, then seemed to realize Terry couldn¡¯t understand him.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I thought I told you the rules! We only speak in Team Chat. Is that too difficult for you to understand!The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    </blockquote>

    The fire in his arms fueled the fire in his chest. Raw aura or not, he¡¯d spent plenty of time Body Tempering like any normal Duelist; his Physical Attributes were in the Ds. Maybe they weren¡¯t on the level of a giant brute like Al¡¯Ruzan. But this wasn¡¯t Savage or Whipvine pinning him to the wall.

    This was just a D-ranker.

    With a cry that was half-pain, half-fury, he pushed against Al¡¯Ruzan with his pinned arms. For a moment, he thought that maybe he had overestimated his own strength, maybe they weren¡¯t in the same realm like he had thought.

    Then, the shock registered on Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face as Terry¡¯s arms shifted. Al¡¯Ruzan slid his foot back to regain the leverage, shoving Terry back against the wall, but Terry had seen daylight now and he was bucking against the pin like a feral dog.

    He prepared to pull on his aura, fight through the pain, and give him the inch he needed to get his knee between them. Something in Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s braided hair had caught his eye earlier and he saw his leverage point¡ª

    A scratching sound froze the air in the cave, causing Chippy to squeak in terror, while Juan and Py scampered away from the entrance.

    Even Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes went wide in shock, releasing Terry with a hurried grunt. Before Terry could process the quick change of events, Al¡¯Ruzan rushed over to the dire wolf, placed a taloned foot on the torso, and gripped the haunch with two hands.

    Then, he began straining against it as his foot held the torso down, like he was trying to deadlift the leg against his own weight.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid was the next to react. She raced over to the corpse, moving Chippy bodily as she plucked Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s knife from the rodent alien¡¯s hand. With practiced motion, she began sawing at the joint where the haunch met the body.

    Terry could only stare on in morbid fascination as the connective tissue began to tear, before Al¡¯Ruzan suddenly took a surprised step backward, the separated haunch held between his hands. He chucked it over to Juan, who flinched as the bloody meat slapped against his chest, then began dragging the rest of the dire wolf corpse toward the entrance.

    Terry followed his progress in shocked silence; the stark transition from their physical confrontation to this harried dismemberment had even put him on the back foot.

    But as his eyes tracked Al¡¯Ruzan toward the cave entrance, that was when he saw it.

    Its silhouette was large¡ªlarger than even Al¡¯Ruzan, who Terry estimated was over seven feet tall. Though the storm continued to rage, whiting out the world beyond the cave, he noted that the monster was humanoid in shape, but had a fur outline, giving it the appearance of a bipedal polar bear.

    Past the pain, past the trepidation, Terry quested his aura forward, caught the barest hint of an aura.

    Then, Al¡¯Ruzan chucked the dire wolf corpse toward the monster and inclined his head. Before Terry could confirm anything else about the creature, it was gone, the corpse lifted as easily as a chicken wing.

    A hushed silence descended on the group as all eyes stared toward that blank white of the storm, as if expecting the monster to return and gut them all. After a moment that stretched for an eternity, Mara-Lin-Jaid let out a heavy sigh of relief and sagged against the wall. In answer, Chippy let out a happy squeak, but immediately wilted as Al¡¯Ruzan cast a dark gaze toward him. Juan still held the dismembered leg in his hands, away from his chest to minimize the contact. But the damage was done; he was slathered in blood and the dismay was writ across his face.

    There was no laundry service in the Underworld.

    But Terry kept his eyes locked on Al¡¯Ruzan. He wasn¡¯t naive enough to think that was the end of their fight. His earlier pull on his aura had hurt, but he could bear it if it meant not getting his ass kicked.

    The ball bearing bracelet that Silver had give him so long ago¡ªthe one he¡¯d used on the sanguine elder¡ªliquefied with a pulse of his aura, drawing into long, thin needles. He kept them out of sight as he staggered his feet, making it seem like he was gearing up for a pure fistfight.

    Al¡¯Ruzan couldn¡¯t miss the challenge in his stance. Fury lived in his eyes as he studied Terry from the cave entrance.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: You nearly cost us everything, fresh meat!

    </blockquote>

    He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Terry¡¯s. His hand reached out, angled toward Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Give me my knife, Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    </blockquote>

    Terry felt his heart quicken. If that was the kind of fight they were gonna have, then he couldn¡¯t pull any punches. He¡¯d open a portal through Al¡¯Ruzan and shear the giant in half.

    Pulling his punches against a D-ranked Duelist who was stronger, faster, and twice as heavy would just see him bleeding out in this frozen hell.

    And that, Terry wasn¡¯t going to let happen.

    I¡¯m getting back to my world, Al¡­even if it means I have to go through you.

    Heavy seconds passed where no one made a move. Mara-Lin-Jaid held the bloody knife in her hands, Al¡¯Ruzan held his own hand out expectantly, and Terry prepared to rip Al¡¯Ruzan in half before the fight could even kick off.

    The tension of the stalemate weighed on his shoulders and he knew that someone would have to break it. Since he refused to bow down to this tyrant, the only other option was to end the fight decisively. He began to feel through space, letting his aura trace along its shape.

    It was different here¡ªlike a flavor that was just a bit too heavily salted. He could sense it, move and part it, but it didn¡¯t come as naturally as it did back on Earth.

    All the same, his strength was more than enough for the job. He began to coax a portal open, cut through Al¡¯Ruzan like a knife through butter, when Mara-Lin-Jaid suddenly moved.

    With a flick of the blade, the dire wolf¡¯s nearly frozen blood went flying. Then, she wiped it along her pants leg and tucked it into her belt.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: There will not be anymore fighting. Not today.

    </blockquote>

    Terry held his working loosely, feeling a bit discombobulated by her sudden declaration. On one hand, he didn¡¯t want to kill Al¡¯Ruzan. He¡¯d never killed anyone¡ªsanguine excluded¡ªand he knew from talking to Whipvine that there was always a hidden toll to pay when you took a life.

    On the other hand, nothing irritated him more than petty tyrants.

    So he didn¡¯t let his aura relax, kept his grip on space ready to slice in a blink. Across the cave, Al¡¯Ruzan seemed just as tense, his legs bent as if he were preparing to lunge.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid stepped in the center of them, giving Terry a cryptic look before turning to face Al¡¯Ruzan.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: There will not be anymore fighting.

    </blockquote>

    The tension seemed to drain out of Al¡¯Ruzan, surprising Terry.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan]: You¡¯ve seen it?

    </blockquote>

    She didn¡¯t answer, but Terry thought he saw her head incline by the barest fraction. Suddenly, everything snapped into place. Juan had said something earlier, when Terry was barely coherent.

    He had said, Mara-Lin-Jaid had a vision that you arrived.

    ¡°You¡¯re a Seer!¡± he blurted out.

    She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed in confusion. Behind her Al¡¯Ruzan bristled, but didn¡¯t attack.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Sorry, I forgot you don¡¯t speak English. I said, you¡¯re a Seer?

    </blockquote>

    She gave him a patronizing look, as if to say, duh. He chuckled lightly, feeling the pending violence in the air drain away.

    He met Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes over her shoulder. There were a couple of different tactics he imagined taking with the giant. From his talks with Crunch, Burg, and Blood, he knew that warrior cultures operated on strength and fearlessness. Admitting a reluctance to fight was tantamount to outing yourself as a coward. Weakness was exploited, strength worshiped.

    But that wasn¡¯t him. He didn¡¯t want to beat Al¡¯Ruzan down and claim leadership of the group. They were a team and they needed to work together, in common purpose, not fear.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Listen. Us fighting isn¡¯t gonna accomplish anything. You¡¯ve been here for who knows how long and your prospects of ever seeing your home again are slim to none with the way things have been going.

    Am I right?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, but it was Mara-Lin-Jaid who responded.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You are right.

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded, thanking her silently for easing the conversation. He continued, not wanting to waste the goodwill she¡¯d earned him with that simple statement.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: From my understanding, not only do we not know what the Lakarot is, we don¡¯t even know where the Bloodsplatter Clan is, and have no means of getting to them even if we did.

    </blockquote>

    He took a deep breath, second-guessing what he had planned to say next. There was a danger to exposing his abilities. He¡¯d been conditioned by both his father and Silver not to expose what he was capable of.

    And yet, if he was going to earn their trust, he needed to lay all the cards on the table.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can make portals. With some advanced scouting and intel, I can get us wherever we need to go.

    </blockquote>

    Shocked gasps came from Py and Juan, while Chippy started squeaking excitedly, his little eyes flitting about to each of them. Mara-Lin-Jaid didn¡¯t react at all, her arms crossed, her expression as still as a lake.

    Al¡¯Ruzan, however, suddenly grew animated. He passed Mara-Lin-Jaid in a single step, crossing to Terry in a blink.

    Terry was so thrown off by the sudden aggression, he didn¡¯t have time to part space, stab out with his silver needles, or even put his guard up.

    ¡°Al¡¯Ruzan!¡± Mara-Lin-Jaid shouted out loud. Terry might have noted her accent had a pleasant lilt to it¡ªif a seven-foot-tall monster of a Duelist wasn¡¯t suddenly standing chest-to-nose with him.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I call you a liar and shall prove it.

    </blockquote>

    His hand ripped out, wrapping around Terry¡¯s throat. The prick of his talons on his skin drew blood, the pressure of his fingers digging into his esophagus. It wasn¡¯t enough to crush Terry¡¯s throat, but his breath caught and he gurgled as Al¡¯Ruzan squeezed.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: This is the full squeeze of a D-ranked Duelist. Any one of you would have had your neck snapped at half this pressure. This liar claims to be a Traveler, yet has the physique of a Duelist.

    </blockquote>

    Terry felt the blood pooling behind his eyes, the dark tunneling in from the sides. He had been blindly clawing at Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s hands in panic, but knew that he had only seconds before he passed out.

    With a painful shout, he gripped one of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s fingers and wrenched it back. It popped with a sickening crunch, dislocating at the bottom knuckle.

    The pressure relented as Al¡¯Ruzan released him. But rather than the pain or anger Terry expected, instead he had a pleased look on his face.

    He¡¯d been proved right¡­he thought.

    With a smug smile that bared his filed teeth, he turned to address the others. He was clearly crafting some triumphant message for the team, turning his back on Terry.

    The blood dripped down his neck. He swallowed the pooling saliva in his mouth, had to force it past a swollen throat.

    The anger burned hot, spitting inside of him like a bonfire. His mind went blank, his teeth grinding so hard his jaw hurt.

    Without conscious thought, his aura cut across space, slicing a portal into thin air.

    And through Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s dislocated finger.

    Blood fountained from the nub where his finger had been a moment before. His severed finger fell to the cave floor, lost in the dark. A shocked cry went up from Mara-Lin-Jaid, while the others almost seemed not to understand what had happened, their brains slow to process the blood spurting into the air.

    But Terry wasn¡¯t done. This bully had put his hands on him one too many times.

    He dashed forward¡ªnearly as fast as Al¡¯Ruzan had been¡ªand ripped a left hook into the giant¡¯s back, right where a human kidney would have been. He didn¡¯t stop to think about Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s reaction, wonder if he had done any damage.

    He moved on pure instinct, muscle memory from years with Whipvine taking over.

    A right hook cracked Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s jaw as he turned in surprise. A foot hooked behind his leg, timed perfectly with the off balance of his turn. Terry lifted at the same time as he shoved, knocking Al¡¯Ruzan to the ground with an explosive grunt.

    He stirred Master of Light, fighting through the pain in his aura, and blinded Al¡¯Ruzan.

    As the giant clawed at his face, trying to dislodge whatever was blinding him, Terry cracked him with a straight left, then a right.

    Then, he really started kicking Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s ass.

 B2 - Chapter 25: Bringer of Fire

    Despite the advantage of Terry¡¯s first strike, Al¡¯Ruzan was clearly well trained.

    As Terry rained down blows on the blinded giant, Al¡¯Ruzan got his guard up, absorbing the next couple strikes on his forearms. When one of Terry¡¯s punches connected, Al¡¯Ruzan used the timing to slip the next shot, causing him to overextend. Al¡¯Ruzan blindly reached up and snagged his vicious talons on Terry¡¯s shirt. As he tried to pull him in close, the cloth ripped and Terry stumbled back a step.

    Al¡¯Ruzan was on his feet with a desperate scramble, his arms swiping forward with deadly speed.

    The others cried out and backed away from the flailing giant, crowding to the back of the cave as Al¡¯Ruzan stumbled forward.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid tried yelling to get their attention, then sent System messages demanding they stop. But the die was cast and Terry knew that someone of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s upbringing wouldn¡¯t surrender unless in the face of overwhelming force.

    So that¡¯s what he did.

    With a burst of speed, he shot forward, ducking under Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s wild swings. His fist smashed into the giant¡¯s gut and he was pleased to hear the explosive grunt from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s mouth at the impact. Without missing a beat, he launched an uppercut from under Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s guard, snapping his head back with a crunching sound.

    Al¡¯Ruzan fought through the pain and surprise, reaching down to bear hug Terry. If the giant alien got a grip on him, he was dead.

    He activated his trump card, dropping Master of Light and switching his focus to Metal Telekinesis. With a violent tug, he ripped backward on the metal beads intertwined in Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s braids, yanking the giant¡¯s head back and throwing him off balance.

    And right over the leg Terry had extended behind him.

    He toppled backward¡ªa far fall for someone so large. While he fell, Terry switched his target, pulling on the metal he sensed from across the cave.

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s knife flew from Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s belt right into his waiting hand. A moment later, he had it pressed to the giant¡¯s throat. Al¡¯Ruzan went suddenly still.

    A silence blanketed the cave, only Terry¡¯s ragged breaths echoing out.

    A part of him¡ªa small part¡ªurged him to press down, put his weight into the blade and take this piece off the board once and for all.

    Whipvine¡¯s words played in his mind.

    Machiavelli said, ¡®Men ought either to be well treated or crushed¡­that one does not stand in fear of revenge.¡¯

    As he looked into Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes, he couldn¡¯t help but feel in his gut that this was an enemy who would seek revenge.

    And yet, his body wouldn¡¯t lean forward, wouldn¡¯t shove the blade into his enemy¡¯s throat. Though that voice inside him whispered to do it, crush Al¡¯Ruzan entirely, the other voice spoke in his mother¡¯s tone.

    The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.

    Turn the other cheek.

    An eye for an eye would leave the whole world blind.

    And the list of platitudes went on and on¡ªbecause that¡¯s what they were, platitudes. Turning the other cheek wasn¡¯t an option against a creature bred for fighting. The moment he lifted his blade from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s neck and offered his hand, the Duelist would go for his throat¡ªhe just felt the truth of that, deep in his bones.

    His eyes flicked toward the others crowding together in the back of the cave.

    They were scared, yes, but he spotted something in their eyes¡ªtheir fear was directed at him. And more than the others, Mara-Lin-Jaid had a desperate, wild-eyed look as her eyes cut to the blade, then back to him.

    He saw it then, clear as day; killing Al¡¯Ruzan in cold blood after winning the fight handily would have ripple effects on the dynamic of the team. He realized how it must have looked to them. He¡¯d only been here for a few hours¡ªAl¡¯Ruzan had been providing their every meal for months. And on top of all of that, he¡¯d demonstrated the power of a Traveler, Duelist, and an Elementalist, all in one go. He knew as well as anyone that just wasn¡¯t possible.

    The fear of the unknown often trumped the fear of the hand clenched around your very throat.

    He couldn¡¯t do it. It galled him after all of that, but he just couldn¡¯t. Killing Al¡¯Ruzan while he was defenseless on the ground would alienate him from the group, creating a schism that he could never fully heal. Maybe in the heat of the fight, if they¡¯d been evenly matched, he would have been able to strike the killing blow and deal with the ramifications later.

    But not like this.

    That wasn¡¯t to say he would give Al¡¯Ruzan the chance to do the same to him. No, there was another quote of Whipvine¡¯s that felt particularly relevant.

    Build your opponent a golden bridge to retreat across.

    If he wasn¡¯t going to kill Al¡¯Ruzan, he¡¯d give him a way out.

    He kept his blade tight to the Duelist¡¯s throat and split his attention to his aura, coaxing the unfamiliar space apart with a thought. A portal cut across the air right next to them, eight feet tall, shimmering blue, burning across their eyes after the dim light of the cave.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Two choices, Al¡¯Ruzan. Take the portal on faith¡ªI don¡¯t know what lies on the other side. Perhaps death, perhaps a second chance.

    </blockquote>

    He pressed his body down on the knife, drawing blood from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s neck.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Your second choice¡­certain death.

    </blockquote>

    He studied Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face, waiting for the alien to choose. There was no doubt in Terry¡¯s heart, if the Duelist chose to fight, he¡¯d defend himself¡ªto the death.

    But he was hoping Al¡¯Ruzan was smarter than that, braver than that. A quick suicide at Terry¡¯s knife was the coward¡¯s way out. Jumping into the unknown might have seemed like fleeing, but the unknown was always more terrifying than the certain.

    A hand touched his shoulder and he would have known who it was even if her aura didn¡¯t give her away. He didn¡¯t even blink as a System notification appeared in his vision.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid has requested a private System chat. Accept?

    He allowed it to come through, not surprised in the least by her message.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please, Terry. He never would have killed you. This was just how he was raised. We can teach him a different way.

    </blockquote>

    Terry watched Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes flick toward Mara-Lin-Jaid. There was something in that gaze that he couldn¡¯t parse, some unreadable emotion that the adrenaline of the fight, of his blade held in limbo over a person¡¯s life, that prevented him from being able to analyze what passed between them.

    It was only after the fact¡ªin the long, cold hours alone¡ªthat he realized the emotion he had seen pass between them.

    Love.

    A sudden shove took him from the side¡ªnot overly strong, not even close to what a D-ranked Duelist should have been capable of performing, even prone on the ground.

    He stumbled, tripping over Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s body, falling headlong through his own portal with a strangled cry.

    The surprise, more than anything, kept him from reacting quickly enough. He fell pathetically into a bank of snow, his bare skin suddenly numb from the cold. The wind bit at him worse than any dire wolf, stabbing at his ears, his eyes, even the inside of his throat.

    His mind caught up in a flash, processing what had happened instinctively.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid shoved me!This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    He shot to his feet, fighting through the biting cold, and turned to face his portal. If Al¡¯Ruzan came through to finish him off, he¡¯d be ready. The knife in his hand felt like an extension of his own arm, calling to him, pleading to be used¡ªfinally.

    When Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t shoot through the portal to attack, Terry flipped a mental switch, reconfiguring the portal to let the light from the other side pass through.

    The opaque blue portal shimmered, then revealed the view of the cave beyond.

    He could see them, but they couldn¡¯t see him.

    Al¡¯Ruzan was on his feet, staring after the portal with a conflicted expression¡ªpart rage, part confusion, as if he couldn¡¯t understand why Terry had spared him. Mara-Lin-Jaid was in between Al¡¯Ruzan and the portal, her hands pushing against his chest lightly. The Duelist could have easily brushed past her, but for some reason, was letting her stop him.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please forgive me, Terry. You¡¯re a Traveler and a Duelist, so I know you can survive the cold until he calms down. Just¡­give him some time and we can coexist! I promise.

    </blockquote>

    She had sent the message privately, but Terry was feeling less than charitable towards the woman. While he activated Master of Light to confine his infrared heat and preserve his body temperature, he crafted his own message for the Team Chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Mara-Lin-Jaid has made her choice. Juan, Py, Chippy. I will find shelter. I will complete this Quest.

    And I WILL make it back home.

    If you want to come with me, send me private chats and I promise to portal you out as soon as I find somewhere safe.

    If not¡­well, good luck.

    </blockquote>

    He watched Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s faces for their reactions. Al¡¯Ruzan glanced toward the other three with a hint of threat that tempted Terry to just open up a return portal and finish what he started.

    On Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s face, he noted her check to make sure Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t watching, then looked toward the portal with a hopeful expression.

    He dropped the portal, finally taking in his surroundings for the first time.

    Well¡­shit. Now what?

    <hr>

    The first thing he did was catalog his available Affixations. He also noted that he still had an unspent Talent point from his Free Topeka Quest, but he tabled that for now; nothing it offered would fix the immediate problem of sheltering from the cold.

    Other than his portal, telekinesis, and light Skills, he also had his water and earth skills he¡¯d learned from his Feed Wichita team during their brief rebellious stint in Topeka. He hadn¡¯t learned anything from Vlad before his death¡ªa Stone-based Skill would have been really handy right about now. But he did have Alan¡¯s Draw Water, which was a D-grade Skill that when activated, allowed him to use his aura to find and direct water.

    He¡¯d been hoping to use it for whatever fuel Juan had squirreled away. If he could¡¯ve extracted the water and ice, it would¡¯ve been a lot easier for the Fire Elementalist to get it burning.

    As for the Earth-based Skills he¡¯d learned from Katie and Peter, they had been more about practicing his analysis abilities more than anything. Katie had let him copy a Skill that could find and shift nutrients in soil and loose earth. Peter had been more in tune with plants, so Terry had copied a Skill that let him sense plant life and manipulate their root structures through the ground.

    None of it had seemed particularly useful at the time¡ªnot in the way Metal Telekinesis had instantly elevated his offensive powerset¡ªbut now, he was thanking whatever gods were listening that he had bothered to learn them.

    The first thing he did was prepare his aura to Affix both the Draw Water and Manipulate Roots Skills. He wasn¡¯t willing to drop his portal or light Skill¡ªthey were too immediately relevant to his survival¡ªbut he needed to free up space for the other D-grade Skills.

    His third D-slot that he¡¯d received from completing his Feed Wichita Quest had been occupied with his D-grade Body Tempering Skill he¡¯d learned from Silver ages ago. That could be swapped for one of the other Skills.

    For the second Skill, he would lean on his Versatile talent. With that, he could use two E-slots for one D-grade Skill or mix and match two F-slots with a single E-slot to give him the necessary free aura.

    One E-slot was already empty¡ªthere was nothing valuable in his catalog other than Metal Telekinesis. Likewise for his F-slots, as his only useful Skill was Liquefy Metal. So he needed to drop Liquefy Metal to free up two F-slots and a single E-slot.

    He prepped the swap over, then accepted the prompts. His aura rippled as it rewrote itself, shifting Draw Water into his free D-slot, and swapping a single E and two F-slots for Manipulate Roots.

    After a few minutes, his aura finally settled into place and he took a heavy breath of relief. Then, he activated Draw Water and pulled all the surface water from his clothes, hair, and skin. It was a delicate process as he had to be careful not to pull the water from his own body and inadvertently dehydrate himself. But with a bit of meticulous aura control, he was finally dry with a couple minutes work.

    The next step was to find shelter. While Master of Light could theoretically keep his body in equilibrium for a long time, he needed to get out of this biting wind and start making a plan.

    He had meant what he¡¯d said¡ªhe was finishing this damned Quest.

    His aura extended into the earth, passing through multiple feet of snow before reaching the solid ground beneath. Manipulate Roots allowed him to feel the composition of the soil and stone wherever the roots touched. He had to dive deeper than anticipated but he eventually found a network of plants that intertwined beneath the surface. They felt hardy, naturally tough to exist in a desolate environment like the Underworld.

    He followed them with his aura, felt the intricate branching as the roots worked deeper, connected to other plants, slowly inching their way through the stone and soil.

    Time passed as he continued to follow the various networks and he eventually found what he had been looking for.

    A quarter mile or so away, he¡¯d found roots that had punched through the earth and now dangled in the air. There was a disorienting sensation, like face planting into a deep snow well, just your feet exposed to the air.

    He marked the location with his aura, then dropped the Manipulate Roots Skill and began reaching forward in space. It wasn¡¯t as practical to just search space for a large enough area to shelter¡ªthere was a lot of ground to cover and his aura projection wasn¡¯t up to that task just yet.

    But now that he¡¯d found it through the root network, it was trivial to locate it with his spatial senses.

    He ran his aura over the location, mapping out the space with his mind.

    It would do.

    With a flex of aura, he opened a portal to that location, feeling that there was no resistance from soil or stone. Sliding his head through, he began to survey his potential new home.

    The light from the portal lit up the space, showing him a roughly ten foot by twenty five foot natural cave formation. At the far end of the cave, it twisted out of view, possibly extending into an entire cavern system.

    Before he stepped through to his new home, there was some housekeeping to do. He reached out to the roots that extended above into what would be his new roof. They served as natural anchors, creating a decent structure to the loose soil above.

    But he could do better.

    With a thought, he began to shift their formation, forming a latticework of roots that reinforced the dirt above. He was no engineer by any means, but he could feel the surrounding soil pack tighter, shift less, as he changed the root structure.

    When he was fairly confident the cave roof wouldn¡¯t collapse on him, he stepped through the portal into his new shelter.

    The dirt roof was eight feet high, feeling slightly cramped but not so much that he had to duck. A soft drip, drip, drip echoed through the cave, creating an ominous backdrop to the wind moaning from somewhere deeper in the system.

    At least he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about suffocating in the shelter¡ªthere were obvious access points to the surface that were feeding the shifting wind throughout the cave.

    With the immediate concern of exposure on the surface dealt with, he began to work on his next priority. For months¡ªyears, even¡ªthe others had possessed no fire, forced to slow cook their meat with Juan¡¯s arrival.

    He meant to change that.

    Diving beneath his feet, he found more roots crisscrossing through the earth. With a pull, he shifted them up, watched them worm through the soil until they deposited themselves at his feet like offerings from Mother Earth herself.

    When he was done, he had a pile of gnarled brown roots resting on the soil, just waiting to be fuel for his fire.

    And now, for the easiest part.

    He reached up through the earth with his aura, extending to the surface, up through the storm and high into the sky. Once he had reached as far as his senses could go, he opened a small portal, drawing the exit at eye level in his cave.

    Diffused light passed through, illuminating the dim cave. With a flex of Master of Light, he refined the light, sharpening it until it became a focused beam shining onto the pile of roots. The beam intensified, helped along by his Skill, and the roots quickly began to smoke.

    Within a handful of seconds, a small spark burst forth, which caught on the surrounding roots. A flame flickered into life and Terry smiled.

    He¡¯d been ignoring the chats coming in, and specifically the Team Chat where the others were talking to each other and to him.

    But now, he crafted his own message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I told you all I was gonna finish this Quest. But first, I give you fire. Use it well, Juan.

    </blockquote>

    Then he cut a portal through space back to their camp, scooped up a handful of soil to shield his hands, then dug under the fire to pick up a burning root. Carefully, he shoved it through the portal, preserving the flame so that Juan could take charge.

    He dropped the portal a moment later and created a second pinhole portal to observe them in secret.

    The others were paralyzed by the sudden arrival of the embers, but not Juan. Finally reconnected with his element, he latched on with the desperation of a starving man who hadn¡¯t seen real food in weeks.

    Through the portal, Terry heard Juan shout excitedly. His aura snapped out like a viper, snatching the fire with a joyful exuberance. It danced toward him, flickering dimly as its fuel began to burn up.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Chippy! Get the timber we found! Hurry!

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked in surprise, then raced to the back of the cave where Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s bed was. Terry watched as the rodent alien rooted through the giant¡¯s bed without a care in the world, coming up with a small piece of half-frozen wood a moment later.

    He waited to see if Al¡¯Ruzan would intercede, impose his dictatorship in Terry¡¯s absence, perhaps even quench the fire out of some misguided pettiness.

    He was both pleased and disappointed to see Al¡¯Ruzan simply stunned silent. A part of him¡ªa small part¡ªhad secretly hoped the giant would prove that Mara-Lin-Jaid had made the wrong choice.

    But for the most part, he was happy to see that Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t as bad as he had feared. With fire, they could warm up, cook their meat, and finally¡ªfinally¡ªstart thinking about working on this damned Quest.

    Juan took the small piece of frozen wood from Chippy and transferred the flame from the roots. There was a risk when igniting frozen wood that the steam from the melting ice would explode, but Juan was a Fire Elementalist; Terry assumed the man could handle it.

    As the fire began to bloom bright, Chippy, Py, and Juan danced happily around it¡ªfor once breaking the Al¡¯Ruzan imposed silence to cheer and whoop. As for the giant himself, he stared at the fire with a conflicted expression, his eyes lost in the flame.

    And Mara-Lin-Jaid¡­her eyes roamed the cavern, looking for something, it seemed. After a moment, she looked up, traced her gaze across the cave roof until she locked onto something.

    With a start, Terry realized she was looking directly at him.

    A private message came through.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Thank you, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    There were a lot of responses that popped into his head¡ªfuck you, being somewhere in the list. But his memory flashed back to that look in her eyes when he¡¯d been perched over Al¡¯Ruzan, his dagger prepared to bleed him out once and for all. The anger drained away, replaced with an ironclad surety that mending their team¡¯s relationship was the first step toward completing this Quest; there was a reason the Weaver had put him with these five people.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You¡¯re welcome, Mara-Lin-Jaid. Enjoy the warmth for now. But don¡¯t get complacent. We still have a Quest to complete.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 26: The Heebie-Jeebies

    After the adrenaline of the fight, the biting cold of the surface, and the sudden exultation of the fire filling his cave, he had to wonder to himself¡­

    What now?

    What did the five of them do for months on end, unable to leave their cave, no games or even a shared language between them?

    He¡¯d had an idea in his head to make the others wait a week. Let the tension and anger between him and Al¡¯Ruzan drain away before he sought a truce. His initial instinct had been to whisk Juan, Chippy, and Py away immediately¡ªleave Mara-Lin-Jaid and Al¡¯Ruzan to their own devices.

    But after more than a minute of thought, he¡¯d realized that would be drawing the line in an irreconcilable way. The Quest was called Stronger Together and he had to imagine there was a reason the six of them had been stranded here.

    As much as it galled him, he made the decision to at least try to mend bridges.

    So¡­a week. He¡¯d leave them with Al¡¯Ruzan for a week just to let the giant know that he wasn¡¯t laying claim to anyone, that the six of them could work together to solve this damn Quest.

    Then, as he sat before his fire in utter silence, the thought of spending the next week completely alone began to really settle in.

    He felt a sudden urge to do something, anything. He walked to the edge of his new home, rounding the corner that was out of sight.

    His breath caught at the sight laid out before him.

    Stretching farther than he could even see, a vast chasm loomed before him. The edge of his cave abutted against a thin ledge that wrapped along the cliff wall, appearing to extend down into the chasm¡ªthough he lost sight after a few hundred feet. Purple crystalline structures lined the walls of the chasm and the ceiling above, providing a dim illumination wherever they perched, but not nearly enough to light up the chasm itself.

    An intense feeling of vertigo took him on the edge of that chasm and he stumbled back against his cave wall, peeking out from behind it to take in the sight once more.

    Movement flashed across one of the purple crystals¡ªfar into the distance, but unsettling regardless.

    He instantly retreated back into his cave, then realized just how bright his fire was. Yellow light lit up the entire space, burning bright against the dark of the chasm like a beacon shouting ¡®free meal here.¡¯

    He¡¯d never reached for Master of Light so fast. With a thought, he reflected all the light back inside the cave, letting none of it extend out into the large space beyond.

    The drain on his aura was slight, but constant. He could probably keep it going indefinitely¡ªif he didn¡¯t have to use any other Skills¡ªbut keeping it active while he slept was another thing entirely.

    Then he imagined actually sleeping in this cave by himself and a shiver traced up his back. Whatever he had seen crawling across that crystal in the distance had suddenly made his new home feel less than inviting.

    To distract himself, he sent Juan a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You guys okay over there?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: We¡¯re good. Big Al¡¯s fuming by himself in the corner. Mara-Lin-Jaid gave him a scolding that sent him with his tail between his legs. Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if she actually told him to go sit in the corner and think about what he¡¯s done.

    </blockquote>

    Terry smiled at that, imagining the System chat browbeating of a seven-foot-tall warrior preordained to be royalty.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: And what about you? I mean, you fucked him up, bro. I never thought a D-ranker could do that to Big Al.

    </blockquote>

    He considered that for a moment. A part of him felt a bit smug at putting Al¡¯Ruzan down. But another part wondered if he hadn¡¯t revealed too much of his powerset in his arrogance.

    But at the end of the day, they¡¯d seen enough that he couldn¡¯t just play it off as some fluke. In their eyes, he was a Traveler and a Duelist¡ªat a bare minimum.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡­have a flexible powerset. And good teachers.

    </blockquote>

    A message rolled in from Py, surprising him.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What an understatement! Portals, body tempering, AND whatever that was you did to his eyes!

    </blockquote>

    It took Terry a moment, but then he realized that Juan had been relaying their conversation to Py and Chippy. It must have been automatic for the man at this point. He didn¡¯t mind though¡ªthe other two had left just as good an impression on him as Juan and he didn¡¯t mind discussing this with the three of them.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Obvious manipulation of electromagnetic radiation. Blinded Al¡¯Ruzan during the fight. And your use of portals indicates the influence of a master¡ªand Presence Attributes approaching the Cs, if I¡¯m not mistaken.

    Then there¡¯s your Physical Attributes. Clearly in the D3 to D5 range.

    </blockquote>

    Terry read that message with a flush of surprise.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How did you figure out my Attributes?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Was I accurate?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Eerily.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: It¡¯s one of Chippy¡¯s Savant Skills.

    </blockquote>

    An immediate need to learn that Skill from Chippy gripped him like a vise. But it was one thing them knowing he had a versatile skillset and entirely another revealing that he could copy their Skills at will.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s fascinating.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Useless, you mean. All I¡¯m good for is skinning wolves.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Stop that talk, Chippy! You¡¯re also good for keeping Juan and me warm at night!The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    </blockquote>

    Terry frowned at that message, wondering if there was some subtext there or if he was reading into it.

    A moment later, Juan cleared up his confusion.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Chippy¡¯s people run hot, Terry. He has to eat more than you¡¯d think someone his size would need, but he¡¯s like our own personal space heater at night.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Oh, gotcha.

    </blockquote>

    He didn¡¯t think he was a prude, but something about the four-armed Py, the rodent-looking Chippy, and Juan in a weird alien threesome made his brain hurt.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Speaking of night¡­

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Yeah?

    </blockquote>

    He took a moment to formulate his words; though he was absolutely terrified of whatever had been crawling out in the large chasm, he¡¯d also sort of portrayed himself as a capable badass. Announcing his fear would definitely put a damper on his image.

    It surprised him to realize he cared, but he did.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Is it safe to sleep at night? I found a large cave and I¡¯m gonna need to get some shut eye at some point.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: We¡¯ve never been attacked inside our cave.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Not counting the thing that steals our food every couple of days, that is.

    </blockquote>

    That made him feel slightly better. The Underworld didn¡¯t exactly have a reputation as a vacation spot. But the five of them had survived for months¡ªyears, in Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s case¡ªand none of them were fighters other than the Duelist himself.

    Put at ease¡ªat least as much as he could be in a foreign realm¡ªhe began to pull more roots up from the soil in order to stockpile some fuel for the night. As he worked, he chatted idly with Py, Chippy, and Juan. They talked about home, speculated about their Quests, and the three of them even introduced him to their private made-up game. It was called Dire Wolf Hunt and involved two or more players trying to match their imaginary cards by strategically stealing the others¡¯. Since they didn¡¯t actually have playing cards, one of them had to be a referee and assigned the cards to each player.

    Terry had a sinking suspicion this was basically Go Fish and when he heard Juan had come up with it, his suspicion was all but confirmed.

    Crappy made up game or not, it was nice to chat with the three of them while he made his new home relatively comfortable.

    He changed his Affixations a couple of times as he liquefied his silver bracelet and formed a small palm-sized pot. Opening a portal to the surface, he grabbed some snow and melted it in his homemade pot, creating clean drinking water.

    Hunger began to gnaw at his belly and he eyed the mystery roots he¡¯d been using as fuel, but eventually decided that was a bad idea. Who knew if it was digestible to humans or not?

    He was tempted to snag some of the now-cooking dire wolf meat from the others, but his pride wouldn¡¯t let him break the impasse between him and Al¡¯Ruzan¡ªnot yet. And stealing the food from under his nose would only add fuel to the fire¡ªeven if he had every right to the meat as the rest of them.

    No, he could wait a night, he decided.

    Hours later, his portal to the surface revealed that it was still bright outside¡ªpast the whiteout of the blizzard, at least¡ªbut his biological clock told him that it was well into the night back on Earth.

    As much as he didn¡¯t want to, sleep beckoned.

    He toyed with the idea of snuffing his fire before bed. He had never learned to tie off his Master of Light Skill, so it would drop when he went to sleep, revealing the glow of the fire to whatever lay outside his cave.

    But the flipside of that was that he was also containing his body heat with Master of Light and if he put out the fire and let his Skill drop in sleep, he¡¯d very likely freeze to death in the night.

    So there really was no other option¡ªhe had to keep the fire going through the night. Just to be safe, he shifted the soil using his Manipulate Roots Skill and created a hole that extended three or four feet down and about five-by-five feet across.

    He moved his fire down into the hole, then shifted his bed of roots he had boiled earlier beside the fire. He hoped that the hole would hide the light of the fire enough so that no curious critters would come looking.

    As he lay down on the softened roots, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of uncomfortable familiarity; the hole was eerily similar to the grave he¡¯d crawled into for his Awakening.

    He pushed those thoughts aside, staring into the small fire near his head. His eyes felt heavy, but he forced them open, watching the fire flicker and pop. Every time they¡¯d drift shut, he blinked them open, checked his surroundings, then stared back at the fire.

    He fought sleep as long as he could, but his eyes seemed to grow heavier and heavier with every blink.

    He didn¡¯t know when it happened, but at some point, he sank into sleep.

    <hr>

    In his dreams, he heard his mother¡¯s voice.

    She sang a low lullaby, soothing him, making him feel safe. Her hand rubbed at his back and he melted into that touch.

    A part of him was embarrassed to have his mother putting him to bed; he was nearly fifteen. He¡¯d faced off against draugrs, vampires¡ªa seven-foot tall alien Duelist.

    Al¡¯Ruzan!

    Thoughts of the Duelist brought him back to the present. He suddenly realized how cold he was and resolved to open his eyes, or at least get his Master of Light Skill going to preserve his body heat.

    But as he reached for his aura, something felt off. It was slow to respond, moving glacially as he tried to stir it into the right shape. Panic gripped him and he tried to open his eyes and sit up.

    His lids were gummed shut, his muscles barely responding.

    He might have chalked it up to the cold¡ªhe was suffering from hypothermia that was paralyzing his muscles.

    But then why did his aura feel so sluggish too?

    He fought against the resistance, reaching for the Skill that was the easiest for him to summon. It didn¡¯t matter what or where, he just needed it to work, needed to feel that his magic wasn¡¯t broken.

    A portal ripped through the space near his head. Bright light streamed in from high above the surface, illuminating the hole that looked like a grave.

    Shrieking cries rang up as the light entered. His heart clenched at the sound, the realization that he wasn¡¯t alone causing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

    Fighting past the numbness gripping his body, he managed to pull his eyelids open¡ªand wished he hadn¡¯t.

    Swarming over him were so many foot-long insects that he couldn¡¯t see his skin under their bodies. They appeared to be centipede-like bugs with far too many legs and black, chitinous bodies.

    The horror that washed over him lent his aura strength.

    With a strangled cry, he cut through space faster and more forcibly than ever before. The portal whisked him away, depositing him on hard rock with an impact his numb skin didn¡¯t feel.

    ¡°Terry!¡±

    Juan¡¯s voice cut through the terror, followed a moment later by Chippy¡¯s loud squeaks.

    He tried to speak¡ªno, tried to shout¡ªbut his tongue felt thick, the words coming out slow, lazy, garbled.

    ¡°Gitthemoff,¡± he slurred.

    He didn¡¯t feel the hands that did it through his numb skin, but he saw the black insects flying through the air; saw all five of them stomping them with boots and bare feet; heard the crunch of their exoskeletons; witnessed the green ichor splashing across the cave floor.

    The terrifying display went on for minutes as they turned him over, only to discover more nibbling at his back and legs. The way their feet stomped, their cries of disgust and panicked gasps, created a bizarre tableau that was like some twisted interpretive dance.

    He couldn¡¯t help it, as they stomped, found more, and stomped again, he moaned in fear¡ªand relief.

    The words please, please, please, were followed by just as terrified thank you, thank you, thank yous¡ªnone of them sensical through his swollen throat.

    When the stomping stopped and the others reclined in ichor-splashed exhaustion, Terry finally found the wherewithal to send a System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Holy shit, thank you so much!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: That¡¯s gonna haunt my nightmares for a long, LONG time.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Are you okay, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    His limbs were still numb, his aura sluggish to respond. But he could breathe, he could see, and if need be, he could teleport away.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: No¡­but I will be.

    </blockquote>

    His eyes traced over the others, found Al¡¯Ruzan. To his surprise, there was just as much disgust¡ªand hidden fear¡ªin the giant¡¯s eyes as there was in the others. It seemed even warrior aliens weren¡¯t immune to a case of the heebie-jeebies.

    With the immediate threat taken care of, it seemed like everyone in the cave remembered the tension in the group at the same time. Mara-Lin-Jaid watched Al¡¯Ruzan discreetly from the corner of her eye, Py Dar angled away from the giant¡ªChippy right behind her¡ªwhile Juan appeared to be cupping a small ember behind his back.

    That filled his heart with a sudden burst of camaraderie, but he sent Juan a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Don¡¯t do anything rash, Juan. I can teleport away if it comes to it.

    </blockquote>

    They locked eyes, and he could feel the indecision in Juan¡¯s posture. He shook his head slightly and he saw the man chew his inner cheek.

    The tension continued to grow and Terry turned his eyes toward Al¡¯Ruzan in question. The Duelist matched his gaze, neither saying anything. Then, Al¡¯Ruzan took a step forward and a hush came over the cave.

    A message came in that seemed to surprise them all.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Juan, Py, you can put him in my bed while he recovers.

    </blockquote>

    Before anyone could respond, Al¡¯Ruzan trekked to the edge of the cave and crouched alone, turning his back to the rest of them as he stared out past the fur door hanging by the entrance.

    Juan and Py shared a confused look, then came over and picked Terry up on either side. They carried him to the back of the cave, laying him gently down on Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s bed. As they laid the furs over him, he was suddenly struck by just how cold he was.

    As the numbing agent of the insects dissipated, the shivers took hold. Juan tucked in the edges of the furs, said something that Terry missed, and without realizing it, he was asleep in moments.

    When he awoke, it was dark, only the flickering embers that Juan was magically maintaining lighting up a small corner on the far side of the cave.

    He saw the movement at the same time he felt the proximity of an aura. Without even looking, he knew it was Al¡¯Ruzan standing over him.

    A part of him thought to cry out, portal away, portal through Al¡¯Ruzan and end the threat. But he realized that the Duelist wasn¡¯t attacking or trying to smother him in his sleep. He was simply standing there, watching Terry.

    He seemed to recognize that Terry had awoken; a System chat came in a moment later.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Why didn¡¯t you kill me? Was it honor or fear?

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 27: The Hunt

    Why didn¡¯t I kill you?

    The question caught him so off guard, he had to repress a humorous snort.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I won. It was over. What would killing you have accomplished?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan read the message, and even with his alien features, Terry could see he was displeased. He turned away without another word and Terry found himself wondering about the question.

    Honor or cowardice?

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You want to know the real reason?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan turned back, his eyes reflecting the soft embers of Juan¡¯s fire.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Of course. Why else would I ask?

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded and was relieved to find his body responding¡ªalthough sluggishly. He shifted, pulling an elbow under him to prop himself up.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: The truth is¡­I was scared. Not of you, but of me. What I would become.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t move¡ªdidn¡¯t even blink¡ªhis eyes studying Terry as he formulated his thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯ve never killed another person before.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s head rose, his lips pressing tight over his tusks in an expression Terry didn¡¯t have the context to recognize. A great breath seemed to leave the Duelist, as if a weight had slipped off his shoulders.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I see. You are unblooded. A failure in your upbringing.

    </blockquote>

    He turned away, then glanced back over his shoulder.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I have a feeling that is a failure you shall rectify before your time in this realm is up.

    </blockquote>

    As he stepped back toward the cave entrance and resumed his crouched vigil, Terry found Mara-Lin-Jaid watching him from her bed, her dark skin making her nearly invisible inside her furs. Only the whites of her eyes shone through.

    He was thinking of something pithy to say, some joke that might have defused the tension between them. But before he could find something of suitable wit, the whites of her eyes flicked away as she settled her head back on her bed.

    When he looked away, the only thing he could see other than Juan¡¯s embers was Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s back as he stared out onto the frozen wasteland.

    For some reason, that comforted him and he drifted back into darkness.

    <hr>

    Nearly a week passed while Terry recovered.

    It was the most boring week of his life.

    After the fiftieth game of bootleg Go Fish, he wanted to shout until his throat was hoarse. The only thing that kept him mildly sane was that Big Al had eased up on his vow of silence shtick, allowing Juan and Terry to speak in English whenever they wanted.

    Allowed, because Terry was still weak from whatever numbing agent the alien insects had infected him with. For most of the week, Al¡¯Ruzan could have knocked him over with a single finger. Not that Terry was defenseless, but he also didn¡¯t want to portal Al¡¯Ruzan in half just when they were starting to understand each other.

    Still, tensions were escalating. While the others had initially bombarded him with questions, relishing in having someone new to chat with, that eventually gave way to a general malaise that seemed to be the team¡¯s baseline.

    Even Py and Chippy got into a System chat scuffle that eventually turned verbal. Chippy¡¯s squeaks and Py¡¯s sing-song language clashed so brashly that even Terry began to understand the appeal of a silent cave.

    That was when Terry learned to appreciate Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s people management skills. She always seemed to know the exact thing to say or the perfect gesture to defuse an argument. A subtle hand on the shoulder or a seemingly incongruous query about someone¡¯s parents that deflected the negative energy at just the right moment.

    In this particular case, she cut through Chippy and Py¡¯s argument with a single, simple sentence.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: It¡¯s time to hunt, Al¡¯Ruzan.

    </blockquote>

    At first, Terry furrowed his brow at the statement. Why did Al¡¯Ruzan need to be told to hunt? They¡¯d scarfed down that single dire wolf leg days ago. Why hadn¡¯t he gone out to hunt earlier?

    But as he read the reactions among the team, the pieces fell into place with a practically audible click.

    It was a vision. She wasn¡¯t stating simple, obvious fact, but prophecy. If she had kept silent for another week, Terry wasn¡¯t entirely convinced they wouldn¡¯t have let Chippy starve to death.

    The spirits in the cave immediately lifted. Chippy chirped happily while Py clutched her four hands in a complicated gesture that he had learned was synonymous with prayer hands back on Earth. Juan literally licked his lips in anticipation and Al¡¯Ruzan stretched his limbs like a tiger set free to roam the reserve.

    As for Terry, he also found himself filled with anticipation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m going with him.

    </blockquote>

    Unlike the others, he could survive outside the cave and now that he was mostly recovered, it was time to start scouting out the surroundings.

    This Quest wasn¡¯t going to complete itself.

    The tension came back with a vengeance, revealed in the concealed looks from Py and Chippy toward Al¡¯Ruzan, Juan¡¯s jaw clenching tight, and the sudden straightening of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s posture.

    Only Mara-Lin-Jaid remained composed at his words.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Yes.

    </blockquote>

    He was surprised at the declarative nature of her response, as if it were her idea all along. That was her game, he realized. She played the prophet to keep them all in line. Perhaps she did it because she felt it was necessary. Who was he to judge?

    As long as she didn¡¯t try to stop him, he wouldn¡¯t complain.

    Al¡¯Ruzan relaxed slightly after her endorsement, but Terry couldn¡¯t miss the appraising glances the giant was sending his way.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Keep up.

    </blockquote>

    Then he was past the fur covering and out of the cave. Terry hesitated, glancing between the others for a surprised moment before bursting to his feet. He gripped the fur he¡¯d been using as a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, checked that the Singularity cube was secure in his pocket, then followed Al¡¯Ruzan out of the cave.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Terry had learned that the blizzard that raged outside their cave never relented, only ebbed and flowed. Some days, it stormed so bad they had been forced to huddle for warmth, while other days, the visibility actually extended out more than a dozen feet.

    Today was a relatively calm day and the whiteout only blocked his vision after about thirty feet. But the sun seemed to reflect off the snow with malicious intent, blinding him as he pushed the fur covering back.

    He activated Master of Light to conserve his heat and dim the reflected light to a manageable level. Blinking away the blindness, he looked around and found no sign of Al¡¯Ruzan. A glance down showed footprints fading quickly from the swirling snow and he started following them.

    The wind was biting, trying to steal his warmth past his fur cloak and Master of Light. The snow stabbed at his face, flakes sneaking through his eyelashes to blind him. His tennis shoes soaked through in moments and he nearly lost his footing with every step.

    For the briefest moment, the thought of turning back and huddling in the relative dryness of the cave infected him. No one asked him to go out on a hunt, no one expected him to keep up with Al¡¯Ruzan regardless of the outcome of their fight. And though he knew he¡¯d have to leave eventually to start getting to the bottom of this Quest, no one was pushing him out the door to figure it out.

    The thought was insidious and he squashed it immediately.

    Pride pushed him out the door. He expected himself to keep up with Al¡¯Ruzan. He demanded that he get off his ass and be self sufficient. He refused to be dependent on Al¡¯Ruzan for food or knowledge of the world outside their cave.

    So he pushed through the snow, tracked Al¡¯Ruzan through his footprints¡ªand when those began to fade, he tracked the infrared light left behind by those footprints.

    A minute turned into ten and he was on autopilot by that point; one foot in front of the other. The trail left by Al¡¯Ruzan was fading but he knew he could always portal back to the cave if he found himself lost. That wasn¡¯t his concern.

    What concerned him was the feeling of being useless, of not contributing, of never leading them from beyond that damned cave.

    His pace picked up, the trail grew stronger. In the distance, he saw and felt Al¡¯Ruzan crouched behind a snowbank¡ªhis aura and heat signature lighting up in Terry¡¯s senses.

    As he approached, Al¡¯Ruzan sent him a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Stay down.

    </blockquote>

    Terry bent his knees awkwardly as he approached, his legs sinking into the snow up to mid shin. Just to be safe, he twisted the light around him to make himself nearly invisible to the naked eye, keeping only his face free so he could see.

    When he stopped at Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s side, the Duelist eyed him up and down with a peculiar expression. Terry realized how he must have looked with only his face visible.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I¡¯ve picked up a trail. There¡¯s a small pack that dens nearby. I suspect it¡¯s one of theirs.

    </blockquote>

    Despite Terry¡¯s magical advantages, he was grateful Al¡¯Ruzan was here. He didn¡¯t know the first thing about tracking or hunting. He kept his reply purposefully simple to avoid revealing his ignorance.

    He didn¡¯t need Al¡¯Ruzan realizing just how reliant he was on the Duelist¡¯s hunting skills.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯ll follow your lead.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan took off without another word, loping through the loose snow like he was born to it.

    Terry sprinted awkwardly after him with a desperate speed, feeling like a fish out of water.

    They ran like that for another few minutes before Al¡¯Ruzan slowed by a snowbank that rose ten feet high. He held out a hand to stop Terry and crawled up the snowbank alone. Peering his head over the small hill, he seemed to be watching something on the other side.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What do you see?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: There¡¯s too many. We must find another trail.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan slid silently down the snowbank and past Terry without another word.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s it? How many, exactly?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Too many.

    </blockquote>

    He continued walking, which annoyed Terry. Rather than follow blindly, he began climbing up the steep snowbank. It was tiring work and far less graceful than Al¡¯Ruzan had made it look, but he was nearing the top when another message came in.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Don¡¯t be foolish! If they catch your scent, we¡¯ll have to run for our lives!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: No we won¡¯t. I can portal us away anytime, remember?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t reply. Terry crested the top of the snowy hill and glanced down at what the Duelist had seen.

    Eight large dire wolves were tearing apart some creature he didn¡¯t recognize. The creature was massive, twice as large as a polar bear, covered in white fur matted with crimson stains. The pack of dire wolves were ravenous, as if worried there wouldn¡¯t be enough left after their siblings were through.

    Terry felt movement at his side and glanced over to see Al¡¯Ruzan crouched next to him. They shared a look¡ªAl¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes appraising Terry, while Terry shrugged as casually as he could manage while watching a pack of alien wolves at dinner.

    A terrible groaning sound echoed out through the howling wind and Terry¡¯s eyes snapped back to the giant polar bear thing. Its head lifted up halfheartedly, then collapsed back to the snow. That only seemed to excite the dire wolves, who tore into it with greater abandon.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It¡¯s still alive!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Yes.

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared at that casual message in shock.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Shouldn¡¯t we put it out of its misery? They¡¯re eating it alive!

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan gave him a second, sharper look.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: That is the way of the wild. The weak suffer the whims of the strong. I wonder what your world must be like for you to be so naive.

    </blockquote>

    For a moment, Terry was blinded by anger. My world is civilized! he nearly responded. But that statement rang false. On Earth, the strong ruled and that was the simple truth. But there was ruling and then there was just plain cruelty.

    Still, he understood Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s point. And that giant polar bear looking animal didn¡¯t exactly look all cute and cuddly; those were killing claws and meat-eating fangs after all. But predator or not, the terrible sounds coming from the dying animal grated on his ears.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can teleport the wolves away and we can put the animal out of its misery. And that much meat? Could last us weeks.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: The monster would never let us keep it.

    </blockquote>

    [Terry]: Who says it has to know? I¡¯ll portal what we need into the cave, stash the rest underground somewhere.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: With those insects that attacked you?

    </blockquote>

    Terry shivered at the memory.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Somewhere else.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan studied the feasting wolves for a moment, a thoughtful expression behind his eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We¡¯ll still have to give it its due. It will know if we do not.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Fine with me. Let¡¯s clear out these wolves and get to work.

    </blockquote>

    He surveyed the frozen wasteland around them. Even when the constant blizzard didn¡¯t hamper visibility, there were almost no land markers to judge distance or location. He¡¯d have to do it by feel.

    Reaching for space, he found a spot roughly a quarter mile away¡ªin the opposite direction of their cave. Then, he felt for the wolves with his senses, feeling them more as displacements in space than anything else.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Here goes nothing.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan pulled his dagger free and adopted a fighting stance.

    No faith, Terry thought.

    Then he parted space, pulling the three closest wolves through portals before they registered what was happening. The others¡¯ heads shot up, their eyes surveying their surroundings, the hair on their spines standing upright.

    He portaled three more before they took a single step.

    The final two somehow zeroed in on their location with a snap of their heads. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, they began loping up the snow bank toward them. An idea came to Terry and he decided to improvise.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m gonna leave one of them for us. The monster would be suspicious if we brought back that giant bear thing.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan shot him a harried look, rising to his full height to stare down at the racing wolves. Terry snapped open a portal before the closer of the two, sending it off with an undignified yelp as it realized midair what was happening.

    Leaving a single dire wolf sprinting toward them with its jaw open wide. Terry expected Al¡¯Ruzan to feint, perhaps slash at its underbelly after a mistimed leap¡ªanything except what happened next.

    The giant Duelist let out a bestial roar that Terry felt in his chest, then threw himself physically through the air to meet the wolf mid-jump. They clashed with a deep thud that only several hundred pounds of muscle could make and began tumbling down the snow bank.

    Surprise and panic filled him as he realized just how reckless Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s approach was. The two of them were rolling down the hill in a death clutch and Terry had a tough time differentiating which was beast and which was a person.

    They crashed to the bottom in a heap, Al¡¯Ruzan laying on top. His arm pistoned up and down into the wolf¡¯s gut, splashing crimson upon the snow.

    Terry raced down the hill, a sick feeling in his stomach at the gory display.

    When he reached the two of them, Al¡¯Ruzan shot up to his feet, a mixture of intestines and blood drenching his clothes. He began barking in Terry¡¯s face and for a moment his irrational brain thought Al¡¯Ruzan was in the midst of some feral bloodlust.

    Then, the System message came in a moment later and he realized that the giant was just super pissed.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: What in the Twelve was that! You risked everything and for what!

    </blockquote>

    Terry backed away, his hands held up between them.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I assumed you could handle one dire wolf, Al¡¯Ruzan! You¡¯ve been killing them for years!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Yes. With planning! Traps! Only a fool wrestles a dire wolf by choice!

    </blockquote>

    He bit his lip at the giant¡¯s words, realizing that he might have messed up with his improvisation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s my mistake for making assumptions. Are you injured?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes bore into him, clearly wanting to lay into him some more. After a moment though, the rage drained away. He looked down at his blood-soaked clothes and snorted derisively.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: It isn¡¯t mine.

    </blockquote>

    He turned to retrieve his dagger from the wolf¡¯s body.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: But you owe me a new set of clothes.

    </blockquote>

    Terry chuckled lightly, nodding as Al¡¯Ruzan stood.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s fair. Again, sorry about that. I shouldn¡¯t have improvised without talking to you first.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan wiped his blade on the wolf¡¯s fur, then turned back with a widemouthed expression that could have been a smile or a threat.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: No need to apologize.

    </blockquote>

    The giant leaned in until they were face to face.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: But you¡¯re wrestling the next one.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 28: The Monster

    With some quick discussion over Team chat, they stored the bear thing¡¯s remains back in Terry¡¯s abandoned cave and portaled Juan there to keep the insects from stealing their food. He kept the portal open between the two caves upon request¡ªJuan didn¡¯t want to be trapped in the insect cave, understandably.

    Now that the bulk of their meal was stored, Al¡¯Ruzan and Terry began the arduous task of dragging the dead dire wolf back to the cave.

    Terry volunteered for the bloody job, which Al¡¯Ruzan thought was more than fair.

    He regretted offering within minutes, his tennis shoes slipping and sliding along the snow as he dragged the heavy wolf. But his pride wouldn¡¯t let him ask for help, so he just tripped and stumbled his way back to the cave, casting Al¡¯Ruzan dark looks by the end of it.

    When they pushed past the fur-covered entrance, the others celebrated with quiet cheers that quickly turned into surprised gasps as they spotted the blood soaking Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s clothes.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: What happened? Are you hurt?

    </blockquote>

    What? No vision? Terry grumbled to himself as he deposited the bloody corpse at the edge of the cave.

    Al¡¯Ruzan handed over his knife to Chippy, who dutifully began skinning the bloody corpse.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Ask him.

    </blockquote>

    The giant began stripping off his blood-soaked clothes, revealing strange musculature and blue-green skin beneath. Scars traced along his torso, some shallow, while many were deep. Terry couldn¡¯t help but wonder what kind of upbringing would leave someone so young so scarred.

    When he turned his gaze from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s scarred flesh, he found the others eyeing him expectantly.

    He coughed awkwardly into his fist.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: A miscommunication on my part. But as you can see, everyone¡¯s fine.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan chuffed to himself and began squeezing the blood and snow from his clothes.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Let me help with that.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan looked at him in surprise, then handed them over. Terry activated his Draw Water Skill and pulled the moisture from the clothes. He wasn¡¯t sure if the blood would pull free or simply dehydrate, but whatever happened, it was better than its current state by a long shot.

    The blood ended up dehydrating, clear water pulling away as the red turned to flakes. With a couple of hard smacks, most of the bloody flakes fell away. He handed back a mostly-clean shirt to Al¡¯Ruzan.

    The Duelist eyed the dry shirt, then Terry with an appraising look. Before he could ask any awkward questions, Terry sent a Team chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How long until the monster shows up?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Usually five, ten minutes.

    </blockquote>

    Terry got the impression Juan was less than enthused to be by himself¡ªportal or not.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, I¡¯d like to get a look at this thing. I¡¯m going to portal outside and find a place to hide.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid shared a wide-eyed look.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Don¡¯t. It¡¯s not worth it.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: You¡¯ll invite more punishment on our heads.

    </blockquote>

    Terry suppressed the annoyed sigh threatening to burst free.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How do you expect to ever complete this Quest if we let this thing hold us captive? You all have the same Quest as me. Maybe that¡¯s what it meant¡ªwe¡¯re stronger together, strong enough to take this thing head on.

    </blockquote>

    Mara-Lin-Jaid and Al¡¯Ruzan looked at each other with guarded expressions. Terry got the impression they were having a private chat. Chippy and Py watched the two of them with tense expressions, wondering if there might be another fight.

    Juan sent him a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: What¡¯s happening, bro? Everyone went mute at the same time.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: The Queen and King are conferring with each other.

    </blockquote>

    It was a bit of an uncharitable statement, but the two of them had ruled over the others as if they were the preordained leaders¡ªAl¡¯Ruzan with his strength, Mara-Lin-Jaid with her visions. He didn¡¯t like it, but he was also trying to turn over a new leaf with the two of them, so he forced himself to patiently wait for them to come to some decision.

    He didn¡¯t promise he¡¯d agree, but he¡¯d at least listen.

    Almost on cue, the two of them turned toward Terry.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Okay, if you think you can remain hidden, then do so.

    </blockquote>

    She took on a stern expression, like a mother scolding a child¡ªwhich pissed Terry off.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: But only observe. That thing moves faster than either of you and is definitely stronger.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Got it.

    </blockquote>

    He cut through space a moment later, appearing out in the blizzard a hundred feet behind the cave. Master of Light hid his visible and infrared light, leaving only a small window for his eyes. As he approached the cave from the rear, he looked for a spot in the white wasteland to get a good vantage.

    The cave they resided in was a natural rock formation that slightly rose up from the ground, creating a bit of an elevated rock outcropping. If he perched on the top, directly over the cave entrance, he¡¯d be able to see anything coming even with the terrible visibility of the storm.

    As he moved into position, he reviewed his Talent point options that he¡¯d been sitting on since he¡¯d completed his Free Topeka Quest. He¡¯d wanted to hold off until he¡¯d got his bearings here and now seemed like the perfect opportunity. The first time he¡¯d been awarded a Talent point, he¡¯d selected Mask Signature. Focusing on the free point, he saw that Mask Signature branched out into two mutually exclusive options, while the other two options he¡¯d had last time were still present as well¡ªCondense Aura, which gave him a slot at his rank minus one, and Quick Shift, which reduced Affixation time by half.

    The new options branching from Mask Signature were as follows:

    Talent Upgrade: Mask Signature

    Enhances Mask Signature to reduce the user¡¯s aura significantly. The user will appear mundane to most aura senses and be nearly impossible to detect at the user¡¯s rank and lower.

    Prerequisite: Mask Signature

    ---

    Talent: New Skill ¡ª Project Aura Signature (D)

    Receive a new Skill: Project Aura Signature.

    Prerequisite: Mask Signature

    ---

    Skill: Project Aura Signature (D)

    The user can create a close copy of their own aura and project it a limited distance.

    Both of those options seemed immediately useful. He¡¯d found through experience that his Mask Signature Talent excelled at making him appear weaker than he was and even let him hide from enemies. Receiving an enhanced version of that same Talent in conjunction with Master of Light would make him practically invisible to his enemies.

    But the new Skill seemed even more versatile as he considered the implications. When he¡¯d raided the sanguine back in Wichita, he¡¯d projected an image of himself using his portals and Master of Light. If he added in this new Skill, his simulacrums would be nearly indistinguishable from the real thing.

    Then there was the immediate benefit of projecting his aura inside the cave. If this monster was aura sensitive, it might realize that there were only four people inside the cave when there should be six.

    That thought made him worry about Juan, so he sent the man a quick message to return to the cave while he considered his two choices.

    He felt that both were solid options, but the immediacy of faking his aura inside the cave eventually made the decision for him. With a thought, he selected the new Skill and Affixed it to his aura in place of Root Manipulation.

    While the process completed, he scanned the surrounding wasteland for any sort of movement. The blizzard continued to obscure his view, but he could at least see the cave entrance below and the surrounding thirty or so feet.

    With a quick message to the team so they weren¡¯t startled, he activated his new Project Aura Signature Skill. He was able to place it with a similar sensation to when he worked with space, so it came naturally after a few seconds of practice.

    A ripple in the air signaled the Skill was completed and he felt the sixth signature join the others a moment later. It felt odd to sense his own signature apart from himself; it was like an alien entity inhabiting his aura.

    But there was no time to dwell on that odd sensation, the monster would be there any minute. As he studied the surrounding area, he had to wonder how it could arrive so quickly or know that they¡¯d brought back a kill. Was it tracking their auras¡ªwhich would be bad considering Terry had only just rectified the aura discrepancy¡ªor was it watching them from the snow?

    He wasn¡¯t sure which thought creeped him out more.

    He tried not to think about it as he waited, the wind biting at his skin, the snow melting in his shoes, the thought of cooked dire wolf making his mouth water. Thankfully, the monster didn¡¯t keep them waiting long.

    It seemed to rise from the snow outside their cave like a spirit. For the briefest moment, Terry imagined it was a draugr that had been haunting his party and his stomach clenched at the memory. But if it was a draugr, Terry was confident they could handle it¡ªdraugrs were the stuff of normie Terry¡¯s nightmares, not the current him.

    But it only took a cursory glance to realize that the monster was no draugr. It had white fur that blended into the snow and its aura was nothing like a draugr¡¯s¡ªat least, not any draugr he¡¯d ever met.

    The remains of the dire wolf Al¡¯Ruzan had killed was thrown out of the cave¡ªminus one leg¡ªand the monster bent to retrieve it. As it moved, Terry confirmed that it was definitely bipedal in nature and it gripped the dire wolf corpse in two fur-covered hands.

    The closest thing he could think of was a yeti, but he¡¯d only seen them in sims and had never heard any stories of them being real.

    Whatever it was, it moved fast. In seconds, it was nearing the edge of his visibility and he had to scramble down the side of the cave to keep it in sight.

    A part of him considered leaving it at that¡ªhe¡¯d caught a glimpse and satisfied his curiosity. But he knew instinctively that wouldn¡¯t be enough; he wanted to follow it.

    Thankfully, the dire wolf continued to leak blood from the stab wounds and the missing leg, so it was easy enough for Terry to follow the trail even if the monster itself was lost in the storm.

    He moved around the cave entrance and saw the others staring after him with a mixture of expressions.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m gonna follow its trail, see if it has a den nearby.

    </blockquote>

    A flurry of messages came in reply¡ªMara-Lin-Jaid scolding him, Al¡¯Ruzan calling him a fool, Juan telling him to be careful¡ªbut he didn¡¯t send an answer back.

    He wasn¡¯t going to pick a fight with the thing, just do some recon. And he was the best one to do it with his reduced aura signature and his Master of Light Skill.

    The messages slowed as he followed the trail. Splatters of blood led in a straight line away from the cave and he didn¡¯t have to look hard.

    He guessed they¡¯d traveled a mile or so before he spotted the small opening in the snow. It looked less like a cave and more like a fissure in the earth.

    The blood trail led directly into it.

    He eyed the fissure for a moment, torn with indecision. His gut told him to return to the others, figure out a game plan together¡ªas the Quest said, they would be stronger as a team. Another part of him urged him to sneak into the fissure¡ªor at least catch a glimpse inside. Perhaps it was a cave like theirs, or maybe it was an entrance into the vast underground cave system he¡¯d discovered last week.

    In the end, common sense won out and he resolved to return to the cave. He felt through space, reaching through to the cave with his senses. As he began to pull space apart, movement out of the corner of his eye caused his head to whip around.

    A flash of white smashed into his head and then everything turned black.

    <hr>

    When he came to, his thoughts were sluggish and refused to form a coherent idea. He was warm, he realized; comfortable, even. He luxuriated in that feeling for a moment, sinking into the furs wrapped around him.

    His eyes snapped open and he went to sit up in a rush.

    Pain stabbed into his head and behind his eyes, sending a wave of dizziness crashing through his body that nearly made him throw up.

    He reluctantly let his head fall back onto the soft fur, instead feeling around with his aura. Instantly, he registered another presence nearby and sucked in a quick breath. On pure instinct, he reached out through space and searched for an escape. All around him, he felt the dense nature of rock and knew if he tried to portal nearby, he¡¯d find himself crushed in the earth. He didn¡¯t know how Travel worked when a portal was forced open into pure rock and he wasn¡¯t about to find out today.

    Sending his senses higher, he reached for the open air of the surface. Before he found it, that second presence moved.

    Pulling his aura back, he prepared to defend himself. As the aura moved toward him, he scanned around with his eyes and saw the monster approaching from his side. Without a second thought, he began to split space through the monster¡ªbisect him the way he¡¯d done to Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s finger.

    Space refused to part.

    The monster had rejected his aura with its own, the way Marlon had implied was possible, but Terry had never tested.

    With a desperate flex of intent, he reached for his Liquefy Metal Skill to shape his silver bracelet into blades¡ªonly to realize that he¡¯d dropped the Skill in favor of Draw Water and Manipulate Roots.

    All he had were silver ball bearings on his wrist.

    With a spike of pain behind his eyes and his head swimming, the only thing he could do was try to escape. He reached out once more to find the surface, when the monster came into full view.

    His mouth gaped open and he dropped all control of his aura in shock.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­human¡­¡±

 B2 - Chapter 29: Lord of Ice

    The man regarded him with a single raised brow. A large animal pelt rest across his shoulders and hooded over his head, the upper jaw of one of the polar bear looking animals across his forehead.

    He understood now why they¡¯d all thought the man was a monster. Only Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid had seen him up close and they¡¯d obviously been scared for their life at the time.

    Without a single word, the man rose to his full height and slipped the fur cloak off his shoulders, laying it on a peg jutting from the nearby wall.

    At first glance, he¡¯d thought the monster had been almost eight feet tall. But seeing him without his cloak, he realized that the animal head had added nearly a foot in height.

    Still, the man was massive for a human¡ªas large as Al¡¯Ruzan, which was saying something.

    As he watched him clearly get comfortable inside his own home, Terry wondered what in the Underworld he was doing.

    Get outta here, dummy. Figure out this mystery later.

    He began reaching with his aura, searching for the surface to step through space, when his eyes caught on something in the man¡¯s hands.

    ¡°Hey, give that back!¡±

    As much as he tried to inject an aura of command in his voice, it still managed to sound more petulant than anything.

    Either way, the man ignored him, turning the Aura Filtering Container that held the Singularity with open curiosity.

    He tried to stand, but another wave of dizziness took him. He must have been concussed to try and physically take the device back from the man who had beat Al¡¯Ruzan so soundly. Coming to his senses finally, he reached across the space separating them and wrapped a portal around the cube. At the same time, he found the surface and prepared to teleport.

    But as his portal encompassed the cube, it enveloped the man¡¯s hand too. No matter how he tried to separate the cube from the man, he found unyielding resistance.

    His portal back to the surface coalesced, but he hesitated. Did he leave the cube and live to fight another day? Or pull out all the stops and force the man to part with it?

    Instinct drew him toward the portal¡ªhe could always sneak back in and take the cube. Or, the six of them¡ªas a team¡ªcould storm this cave and take it by force.

    But as he considered fleeing, he couldn¡¯t help but note the severe lack of urgency in the man¡¯s expression or body language. He simply held the cube¡ªstill inside the portal¡ªand watched Terry, as if waiting to see what he decided.

    Terry had the sudden realization that he couldn¡¯t take the cube back, even if he did surprise or ambush the man. He¡¯d been too preoccupied¡ªor too concussed¡ªto register the man¡¯s aura at first. But now that he¡¯d taken a moment to breathe, he realized that this was the aura of an A-ranker.

    The rational side of him was screaming to cut his losses and run. There would be time to game plan and retrieve the Singularity at some point. But something deep inside of him felt at ease in the man¡¯s presence. There was no hint of anger or aggression in his posture or aura. He wasn¡¯t giving back the cube but he also wasn¡¯t forcing Terry to stick around either.

    That, more than anything, convinced him to stay.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked, dropping the portal engulfing the man¡¯s hand. ¡°Why have you been terrorizing my friends?¡±

    The man raised a single eyebrow. Terry realized that just because he was human, didn¡¯t mean he was from Earth.

    ¡°Sorry, do you speak English?¡±

    He ignored Terry, turning away and placing the cube in a pocket. Rather than press the issue, Terry took the moment to examine his surroundings closer.

    The cave they were in had all the markings of a long-term dwelling. Shelves were cut into the rock walls, adorned with various trinkets that were shaped of bone, wood, and metal. There was a bowl and a plate to one side with a pitcher beside them. On the other side of the cave, a fire burned bright in a hearth, the smoke rising through a flue that extended up into the ceiling.

    One of the dire wolf¡¯s legs was positioned over that fire on a spit and the man moved to rotate it silently. The remainder of the dire wolf lay to the side in the dirt.

    Terry stared at the man¡¯s broad back, wondering how to navigate this awkward situation. While the man wasn¡¯t being hostile, he had knocked Terry unconscious and dragged him into his home.

    A bevy of questions flashed in his mind. Why did you kidnap me? Why have you been taking our food? Who are you?

    But for some reason, he suspected those questions would all be met with silence.

    He took the time to look at the messages that had rolled in while he was unconscious. There was an obvious panic among the others and they were now speculating about his death in the Team chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Hey, I¡¯m alive!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Terry! Thank God!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chippy]: What happened?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Where are you?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Can you get away?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: What were you thinking!

    </blockquote>

    The messages came in a loose jumble, each speaking over the other as they tried to get answers from him. As he watched the man turn the spit, he couldn¡¯t help but feel dissatisfied¡ªhe didn¡¯t yet have the answers to give.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m fine. The monster isn¡¯t actually a monster. He¡¯s human it seems. And other than kidnapping me, he doesn¡¯t seem to be hostile. I¡¯m going to see if I can¡¯t get some answers.

    </blockquote>

    The messages that followed were all over the map. Mara-Lin-Jaid scolded him for being a reckless idiot and demanded he come back. Al¡¯Ruzan told him to be on guard and not underestimate the enemy. Juan was still hung up on the fact that the monster they¡¯d been so terrified of was actually human. Py and Chippy simply expressed concern.

    But there was an air to the man that suggested he wouldn¡¯t attack. Which made his kidnapping all the more confusing.

    ¡°Why did you knock me out?¡± Terry asked. ¡°And why didn¡¯t you just leave me out there to die?¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    The man didn¡¯t respond, but Terry saw his ears twitch almost imperceptibly. Had that been understanding or an instinctual reaction to Terry¡¯s voice?

    Before he could think to ask more questions, the man pulled the spit off the fire and placed it on a table carved directly into the stone wall. Then he moved to the dire wolf corpse.

    Terry watched in confusion as the man gripped one leg and began dragging it toward the cave exit. He turned a corner and was out of sight in moments. A part of him considered just leaving but the man had the Singularity. He warred within himself for a few moments, then shot to his feet and followed after him.

    He was surprised to see that the exit didn¡¯t lead to the surface but instead out to a tunnel leading in either direction. The tunnel was dark, only the fire behind him casting any light. But he was able to spot the man¡¯s back and hear the corpse dragging behind him down the right-hand tunnel.

    Following behind, he sped up in order to catch the man. This was still alien territory and if his run in with those insects from last week had taught him anything, it was that he didn¡¯t know what lay in wait beneath the surface. He¡¯d rather stick close to his kidnapper than be left alone in the pitch black tunnels.

    As he approached from behind, the man cast him a disinterested look as he marched forward. Then, he stopped and held out the dire wolf¡¯s limb.

    ¡°If you¡¯re gonna follow, make yourself useful.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open at the words, his eyes flicking to the outstretched hand, then back to the man¡¯s face. It took him a few brain-addled moments before his mouth caught up to his thoughts.

    ¡°You-you speak English?¡±

    The man looked pointedly down at the wolf leg he was handing over. Terry reacted out of a desperate need to glean more information from the man; he grasped the dire wolf¡¯s ankle and looked up expectantly.

    The man turned away and continued walking, Terry following behind with the dragging corpse.

    ¡°Yes, I speak English.¡±

    The man¡¯s voice had a dusky quality to it, as if the words were long buried relics he¡¯d had to dig up.

    Terry waited expectantly for the follow up response, but the man seemed content to simply walk in silence.

    ¡°You really gonna just leave it at that? No answers on why you kidnapped me. No questions on why I¡¯m here? Nothing?¡±

    The man didn¡¯t respond for another few moments and Terry felt his impatience begin to boil inside of him. But just as he was about to press him for more, the man stopped and turned toward Terry.

    ¡°My answer is the same as your answer.¡± He held out the Singularity cube. ¡°This is why I brought you back and this is why you¡¯re in this realm at all.¡± Turning away, he tucked the cube back into a pocket. ¡°Now stay quiet. We¡¯re entering their territory.¡±

    Terry bristled at the command, then processed the man¡¯s words.

    Territory? Whose territory? he wondered.

    But he had his answer soon enough.

    The tunnel opened up into a long cavern that stretched into the distance. To either side, doorways were embedded in regular intervals, carved directly into the stone.

    And turning to watch the two of them, were dozens of ghouls.

    Terry stopped at the mouth of the tunnel, dumbstruck by the sudden attention they were receiving and the revelation that this was a ghoulish city. The ghouls watching them were unlike those of Wichita; they wore ivory jewelery, belts with tools or weapons, and he even spotted one ghoul working at a forge.

    The man didn¡¯t wait for Terry to process the moment. He stepped forward, passing through the center of the city without hesitation. Terry, standing alone and holding onto the dire wolf, hurried to catch up.

    As they strode forward, the ghouls on either side continued to study them and Terry was fascinated to feel the aura bouncing around the cavern. Entire conversations were being had in silence¡ªcuriosity at his presence, trepidation at the man Terry followed, and celebration at the sight of the dire wolf.

    That was when he realized the meat the man had been taking from Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t for him, but for these ghouls.

    Tribute or charity?

    As they walked, he saw a large bas relief carved into the far wall. The figures it depicted were hard to decipher but they surrounded a large double doorway that was guarded by two ghouls wielding ivory spears.

    He itched to ask the man about that¡ªhe¡¯d never seen a ghoul use a weapon other than their bone-claws¡ªbut the double doors creaked open and the moment passed.

    Two robed liches came into view, flanking a giant ghoul wearing a bone-white torc around his neck. Back home, he knew that the ghoul leaders wore golden torcs, and he wondered at the cultural differences between Crunch¡¯s people and these ghouls.

    The elite ghoul and his two liches strode down a set of stone stairs, meeting them at the bottom. The ghoul moved with a lithe grace and deadly ease that made Terry¡¯s hair rise on the back of his neck. His aura was palpable as they approached and Terry guessed that the ghoul was roughly on par strength-wise with the mysterious man at his side.

    Aura shifted between the group, the liches, ghoul leader, and the man bending their auras into familiar greeting shapes. For a moment, Terry considered revealing his understanding and shaping his own greeting, but decided against it; the man hadn¡¯t been forthcoming in the slightest, so why should he?

    The man spoke to the three undead in very capable ghoulish, blending aura and the spoken tongue in a way that suggested he had been here for quite some time.

    Terry translated the words and aura in his head.

    ¡°Another offering to the Bloodsplatter Clan,¡± the man said, indicating the dire wolf corpse with a hand.

    Inside, Terry gasped; this was the Clan they¡¯d been tasked to help.

    ¡°Very generous, Lord of Ice,¡± the lich on the left replied. ¡°How can the Bloodsplatter Clan repay you?¡±

    Terry felt the ghoul leader¡¯s eyes¡ªand aura¡ªland on him, and he looked up to meet his gaze. Everything about the ghoul reminded him of the golden-torc ghoul back home; his human-like eyes, powerful limbs, and stifling aura. He felt the appraising regard and returned a respectful, but uncowed look back.

    ¡°Your grace and hospitality for me and the other outsiders is payment enough,¡± the man¡ªLord of Ice, apparently¡ªreplied. He began to say something else, but the ghoul¡¯s aura shifted in a way that cut him off.

    ¡°And this one?¡±

    Judging from the aura and the narrowed look toward Terry, he guessed the ghoul was referring to him.

    The man waved a hand dismissively.

    ¡°The newest outsider to join the others. He¡¯s weak and not useful for much¡ªbesides carrying meat.¡± The man shifted his aura to indicate he¡¯d been making an idle joke, but the ghoul never took his pinning gaze from Terry¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°He seems unconcerned for someone new to our world.¡± The ghoul stepped forward and Terry felt his heart skip a beat. ¡°Give me the offering, outsider.¡±

    He had to stop himself from instinctively handing the corpse over, instead turning to the man with a confused expression.

    ¡°Give it to him,¡± he replied curtly in English.

    Terry affected a churlish tone to distract from his near slip up, grumbling under his breath as he reached forward to hand off the wolf. ¡°Would a please kill you?¡±

    The ghoul¡¯s hand stretched out, slick red skin brushing against Terry¡¯s fingers as he took the corpse. He hefted the hundreds of pounds of meat effortlessly, depositing it beside him.

    ¡°Our new spawnling is ravenous.¡± The ghoul flicked his eyes toward the man. ¡°Extra meat would go far toward our continued friendship.¡±

    Terry cut his gaze up, reading the man¡¯s reaction at the sudden turn of events. The disinterested shrug he gave in response did little to put Terry at ease.

    ¡°Fine by me.¡±

    The ghoul tilted his head with a predatory gaze and Terry felt his stomach flip. He prepared a portal¡ªclose, anything to get him out of this spider¡¯s web.

    A wave of aura splashed out, bouncing between the man and the undead. In his panic, he didn¡¯t immediately translate the emotions, completing his portal with a flex of intent. But as space parted, he realized what had just passed between them and he groaned.

    They¡¯d been laughing at him.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t tell me you understood ghoulish,¡± the man said in English.

    Terry, sensing that he was in no danger, let the portal drop.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t been exactly forthcoming yourself,¡± he replied. He switched to ghoulish. ¡°And nobody asked.¡±

    The ghoul leader¡¯s eyes twinkled and Terry felt a wave of respect from the liches at his side.

    ¡°Odd dialect,¡± one lich said.

    ¡°One of the southern clans, perhaps?¡± the other added.

    ¡°He just arrived?¡± the ghoul asked.

    Terry looked up to see the man studying him with renewed interest. He stayed silent for a few moments before turning back to the ghoul.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Where did you learn our language?¡± the first lich asked softly.

    Terry glanced between the four of them, his mind racing. Was there any reason to lie? The man still hadn¡¯t revealed anything of himself. Who knew how he¡¯d feel about Wichita or my grandfather?

    He decided to fish for more information before revealing too much.

    ¡°Where I come from,¡± he replied in ghoulish, ¡°it¡¯s polite to introduce yourself first. I was led to believe it¡¯s the same among the undead.¡±

    A ripple of surprise shifted among the liches and their ghoul leader, then quickly turned to humor.

    ¡°You are correct,¡± the ghoul said. His aura shaped itself, spearing forward. Terry saw a brief impression of a blood-coated blade stabbing just as the ghoul¡¯s aura had.

    Crimson Spear? he guessed. His translation felt right but before he could ask, the two liches offered their names through their aura.

    The one who had spoken first elicited images of the sun flashing on snow, which he roughly translated as Snow Glare. The second lich¡¯s aura made him think of roots burying deep past the soil and Terry dubbed him Deep Root.

    Then, to Terry¡¯s surprise, the man offered his own aura-shaped name.

    A blizzard raged in his mind, sleet and ice ripping through the air, cutting everything in its path. And at the center of the storm, calm reined. There, the man stood casually, his arms raised as if orchestrating the blizzard itself.

    He started to translate the images, then a realization short-circuited his thoughts.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one causing the snow storm on the surface!¡±

    The man didn¡¯t react, his face remaining placid.

    ¡°Where I come from,¡± the man said evenly, ¡°it¡¯s polite to introduce yourself first.¡±

    Any other time, Terry might have been annoyed to have his own words thrown back at him. But all he could think about were the implications of this man being the cause of the storm that had kept the others isolated in their cave for so many months.

    The man raised an eyebrow expectantly and Terry tabled those thoughts.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a ghoulish name,¡± he admitted. ¡°But my name is Terry.¡±

    The man seemed to mull that over for a moment before coming to a decision.

    ¡°You can call me Ben.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 30: The Song of Offering

    Crimson Spear watched their interaction with interest, his aura flicking out, trying to catch the nuance between their English words, only to find their auras inert.

    Rows of jagged teeth stared down at Terry, his annoyance obvious at not being able to parse their English.

    The elite ghoul¡¯s powerful voice cut through the air, pulling Terry¡¯s eyes from those killing teeth, back to the leader¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°No ghoulish name? You know our shapes well enough but your teachers never named you?¡±

    Terry felt a flush of embarrassment. He¡¯d never referred to Crunch, Burg, or Blood by their ghoulish names and they had always called him ¡®My Prince.¡¯

    The realization that he¡¯d never asked for a native ghoulish name hit him; he had no one else to blame but himself.

    He hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. ¡°No¡­they called me by my¡ª¡± He almost said title. ¡°¡ªby my human name.¡±

    Crimson Spear narrowed his eyes, perhaps picking up on the omission, but one of the liches¡ªDeep Root¡ªspoke before Terry could feel the tension of that gaze.

    ¡°Worry not, young one. With the Lord of Ice as your master, you¡¯ll surely earn a name in short order.¡±

    Master? He considered correcting the lich, telling them they¡¯d just met. But before he could make a decision, a notification appeared.

    Ben has requested a System chat. Accept?

    He risked a glance toward the man who returned the look casually, his expression in no way revealing he¡¯d just silently sent a chat request.

    Terry accepted, both curious and confused.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Go with it, kid. If they think I¡¯m your master, they¡¯re less likely to eat you.

    </blockquote>

    He stared at those words in shock. Eat me! He hadn¡¯t realized that was a possibility, but it opened his eyes to something.

    Crimson Spear was tall, his limbs lithe and undoubtedly powerful. But Terry compared him to his memory of the golden-torc ghoul back in Wichita. After a quick glance, there was no denying it: this ghoul was thinner, his flesh slightly emaciated in comparison.

    He replayed their walk through the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s home¡ªthe ghouls standing in surprise and excitement as he dragged the dire wolf corpse through the main area.

    The ghoul clan was starving¡ªand Terry was as appetizing a meal as any young dire wolf.

    Thinking quickly, Terry inclined his head toward Ben.

    ¡°Yes, the Lord of Ice has been a fine master in the short time I¡¯ve been here.¡±

    An unseen tension released, Crimson Spear relaxing his gaze to look down upon the dire wolf at Terry¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Let us go, then. The spawnling is ravenous.¡±

    Without another word, the ghoul and his lich entourage turned and started back up the steps. Terry shared a confused glance with Ben, who flicked his eyes toward the undead.

    He sighed, picking up the bloody haunch and starting after them.

    Ben walked slightly ahead of him, his aura ranging around them subtly. Terry risked probing glances with his aura in an attempt to glean more information from the man; he¡¯d been slightly disappointed to see his System name had been simply: Ben.

    He¡¯d been hoping for a last name or a super name.

    Ben glanced over, realizing Terry was studying him.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: You were wrong earlier.

    </blockquote>

    The message surprised him so much, it took him another few steps up the stairs before he could process it.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: About what?

    </blockquote>

    Crimson Spear reached the large double doors and entered, followed shortly by the two liches.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: I¡¯m not the cause of the storm.

    </blockquote>

    The storm? Terry followed Ben to the doors, mulling that statement over. I¡¯m not the cause of the storm? Did the man mean he wasn¡¯t creating the blizzard on the surface?

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: With a name like Lord of Ice, I just assumed.

    </blockquote>

    Ben nodded, hesitating at the doorway.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: They call me that because I¡¯m the one taming the storm. I keep it subdued enough to allow for hunts.

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s tamed!?

    </blockquote>

    Ben indicated the door with a nod and Terry started. Stepping forward, he dragged the wolf corpse over the threshold and into the dark tunnel behind it. With his Master of Light Skill, he was able to pierce the dark just enough to see Crimson Spear¡¯s back as he turned a corner.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: When the Bloodsplatter Clan were first exiled to the surface, only their leader could survive the storm. But his presence is necessary here. My powers allow the lesser ghouls to hunt, though their success is intermittent.

    </blockquote>

    He frowned at that. The ghouls he knew were more than a match for a single dire wolf. A pack of ghouls should easily tear through that pack of dire wolves they¡¯d found earlier today.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t understand.

    </blockquote>

    They reached the corner where the undead had turned and found themselves in a small cave. There was nothing in the space except a glowing green crystal that cast some scant illumination.

    And¡­a small pool of black tar just big enough for Terry to lay down in.

    Suddenly, everything clicked into place. The weakened state of Crimson Spear and his people, the reliance upon Ben for supplemental food, the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s exile to the surface, and the pool of black tar that could only accommodate a single person¡­or ghoul.

    His thoughts flashed back to his memory of the Evolution Chamber in Wichita. A black pebble beach abutting a pool of tar that stretched farther than he could see. Space for a thousand ghouls to lay side-by-side and never feel cramped.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    But for the Bloodsplatter Clan, a pool clearly no bigger than a single ghoul.

    The black tar bubbled, reminding him of when he and Crunch had released those seven dead ghouls into the Wichitan version of this pool. The tar had bubbled then, too, only settling once the ghoul corpses had slipped under the surface.

    Deep Root¡¯s sibilant voice cut across Terry¡¯s thoughts.

    ¡°Bring forth the offering, young one.¡±

    He dragged the corpse forward, hyper aware of Crimson Spear¡¯s presence right beside him. An irrational image played in his head¡ªthe ghoul leader rocking forward, his powerful hand shoving Terry into the pit along with the dire wolf.

    But he pushed through that fear, bringing the corpse to the edge of the black tar.

    Crimson Spear did reach forward and Terry had to suppress a flinch, but the ghoul simply grabbed the wolf limb, lifting it up and tearing away a single leg before dropping the corpse.

    A hiss rose up from the two liches, their auras stirring the air around them. A moment later, Crimson Spear joined them, his deep voice harmonizing as he held up the dire wolf leg.

    The aura began to shift, eliciting a familiar feeling deep in his chest. He remembered that song in the Evolution Chamber¡ªthe Song of Well-Earned Rest, Hoping Tree had called it.

    As he listened to this song build, intermingle with their aura, he felt the subtle differences that separated it from that song.

    An image flashed in his mind¡ªa young boy going out on his first hunt, tracking the signs of his prey. An exultant feeling settled deep in his chest as the boy brought down his first kill, carried it back to his people.

    The aura ramped up a degree and Terry was startled to feel Ben joining in at his side. It was similar to the aura shifting around the undead, but with his own touch. Though the impressions were slightly different, they seemed to synergize in a way Terry couldn¡¯t quantify.

    He turned his attention to the images evoked by Ben¡¯s aura. A boy worked side-by-side with an older man, his attention rapt as the man taught him some unknown craft. The emotions were palpable, the pride in the man, the adoration in the boy.

    It continued to build, swirling through the small cave with enough force he could practically feel it on his skin, taste it on his tongue. A sudden urge took him and he began to stir his own aura.

    The first few moments were awkward, his aura stilted in comparison to the experts around him. But he felt Ben¡¯s aura connect with his, giving slight pushes as if to adjust the flow. He followed that guidance, feeling a sort of harmony begin to form.

    He didn¡¯t know when it happened, but he realized that their auras were now indistinguishable, and he could feel Ben¡¯s emotions as if they were his own. He was surprised to feel a bone-deep sadness there, but also a hope. The subjects were inscrutable, but the emotions were undeniable.

    Before he could peel back those layers, Ben guided their aura and Terry felt theirs brush against that of the undead. At first, the two aura storms battered each other, neither finding harmony. But he felt them shift their frequency, each making accommodations for the other, a subtle dance of give and take that eventually found synchronicity.

    Terry was a leaf in this storm now, pulled along by something bigger than himself, unable to pull free even if he wanted to.

    But he didn¡¯t want to.

    The sensations, the emotions, the images, infected him with a heady dizziness that seemed to separate his ego from his body. He was one with Crimson Spear, Deep Root, Snow Glare¡­

    He was one with Ben.

    A lifetime of disappointment, of failure, of loneliness, crowded that connection and Terry couldn¡¯t tell if those were his feelings or Ben¡¯s.

    Before he could make that distinction, he felt Deep Root¡¯s emotions take center stage. Longing, powerful enough to make his chest ache. A yearning for a return, a return to power, glory, responsibility¡ªnot for him, but for the clan.

    Snow Glare¡¯s aura felt similar. There was a gaping chasm in his ego, a need to provide and shepherd his people that he felt he was failing at. The two of them were like opposite sides of the same coin, their needs and wants complementing each other to create a greater whole.

    Then, he shifted his focus to Crimson Spear¡¯s and was whipped away from conscious thought by the power of the ghoul¡¯s emotions. There was a burning need, an unbelievably powerful desire to return his people to their rightful home. Terry felt the fading sense of glory Crimson Spear had once embodied. One of the leaders of the most important ghoul clan, the pride of his people, now scrounging for scraps, reliant upon outsiders simply to survive.

    The heartache, the loss of pride, stabbed at Terry like a knife.

    He was still processing those emotions, waiting for the aura storm to drift apart and for each of them to separate back into their individual wholes, when his own aura was whipped into the forefront.

    It felt like his ego had been snatched up from his grip and bared whole before the world.

    He saw himself from the outside looking in, a distance stretching before him as he regarded his own motivations and emotions.

    The first thing he noticed was his desperate need to live up to his family¡¯s legacy. He wanted more than anything to make his father proud, his mother proud¡ªeven his grandfather, Necroton, despite his flaws, pulled on Terry¡¯s ego.

    He wanted to make them proud¡ªbut more than that, he wanted to surpass them. He wanted to be stronger than them, more famous than them, considered more good than them.

    The naked ambition shocked him.

    There was no time to reconcile that undeniable need with his own thoughts¡ªhe was pulled into the next emotion without mercy.

    Need, again. But this need had a different flavor. It was just as desperate, just as powerful, but it wasn¡¯t centered on him. Rather, he felt a bone-deep need to help others, give hope to the hopeless, protect the weak¡­bring light to a bleak world.

    Images flashed in his mind¡ªWichita flaring to life as his portals returned the sun. Handing out food to the street kids whose bones poked through their skin. Slicing portals through space as he ushered the defenseless Market natives through, the S-rankers fighting a desperate fight above them.

    The aura dimmed without him realizing, the air going silent even though no sound had been made. He felt its passage dip down, into the pool of black tar, infusing it with those raw emotions, those private desires.

    When the aura was nearly still, Crimson Spear leaned forward and slipped the dire wolf leg into the black. The bubbling on the surface calmed, the leg dipping out of sight as something seemed to snag it.

    Terry¡¯s eyes were locked on that pool, but his thoughts felt disconnected from his body, the emotions distant even as his aura decoupled from the others.

    He realized Ben was gently pulling him away from the pool and he shook himself awake.

    ¡°Let¡¯s leave the spawnling to his meal.¡±

    Terry nodded, though he found his mind still in a fugue, his thoughts processing the emotions he¡¯d felt rather than the words Ben had said.

    They came to a stop around the bend, standing in the dark as the undead joined them.

    ¡°You did well, young one,¡± Deep Root said in ghoulish.

    ¡°Yes,¡± hissed Snow Glare. ¡°The Song of Offering can be overwhelming, but your aura is powerful.¡±

    Terry turned to them, so many questions on his lips, but Crimson Spear stepped forward and he bit his tongue.

    ¡°You¡¯ve sung with our people before?¡± the ghoul asked.

    ¡°Not exactly.¡± He hesitated, but realized there was no use trying to lie or hide the fact. ¡°I was present during the Song of Well-Earned Rest once¡­¡±

    He trailed off as the liches shared a look and a quick flash of aura that he didn¡¯t catch.

    ¡°You interest me,¡± Crimson Spear growled. ¡°I should like to¡ª¡±

    The ghoul cut off at a sudden burst of aura from the two liches. There was a message there, one punctuated by panic, though Terry couldn¡¯t grasp the full meaning.

    Crimson Spear whirled on Ben.

    ¡°A raid. Will you assist?¡±

    Terry looked up to see Ben¡¯s eyes widen for the briefest moment before his expression turned resolute.

    ¡°You need not ask.¡±

    Without another word, Crimson Spear darted through the tunnel, Ben on his heels. Terry hesitated a moment, but the liches began to move¡ªslower, but still with urgency¡ªso he followed them out into the main cavern of the clan.

    Crimson Spear¡¯s powerful voice echoed out in ghoulish, a warning that stilled the cave. Then, the ghouls burst into motion, grabbing weapons and darting off. The two liches followed after Crimson Spear, but Ben stopped at the large double doors leading to the small Evolution Chamber.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Terry asked.

    Ben¡¯s eyes scanned the cave as he answered.

    ¡°Sanguine raid.¡±

    Terry¡¯s heart flipped, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

    ¡°Sanguine? But why would the vampires attack the ghouls?¡±

    Something in Terry¡¯s tone must have clued Ben in, because he glanced toward Terry in question.

    ¡°You know the sanguine?¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve fought them. Killed one of their leaders back on Earth with silver and sunlight.¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes narrowed, studying Terry as if looking for some hint of a lie. Terry returned a steady gaze.

    After a moment of scrutiny, Ben snorted.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a story I¡¯ll need to hear when this is all said and done.¡±

    Terry shrugged. ¡°Yeah, soon as you tell me your story.¡±

    Ben took on a wry smile, quickly hidden. ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± he replied with guarded tone.

    Before Terry could give a witty reply, movement flashed high up on the cave ceiling.

    ¡°Up there!¡± he shouted.

    But then he saw more movement to the left and right as familiar creatures began crawling from tunnel entrances on either side.

    There are too many, he realized. A hundred, two hundred, more, began streaming through the open tunnels, up the walls, outnumbering the ghouls five-to-one.

    Crimson Spear suddenly moved, an ivory spear that he hadn¡¯t possessed earlier now in his hands. He moved as fast as any A-ranked Duelist, carving through a handful of sanguine in a blink.

    But they swarmed around him, heading for the regular ghouls¡ªwho suddenly seemed so frail and weak in comparison to the ghouls of Wichita.

    Despite appearances, the ghouls were much faster and stronger than the sanguine, their weapons and bone-claws tearing through the fragile vampires wherever they clashed.

    Then, Terry noticed dozens of the creatures crawling over the ceiling in their direction.

    ¡°They¡¯re going for the pool.¡± Ben¡¯s aura began to stir and the temperature dropped noticeably in the blink of an eye.

    Why would they go for the pool? he wanted to ask. But there were only seconds before the sanguine were upon them.

    ¡°Can I bring my friends? They can help!¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes flicked toward Terry for the briefest moment, indecision clear on his face. The first sanguine launched itself toward Ben and an icicle materialized in thin air, spearing the creature in the face.

    ¡°Do it!¡± Ben shouted.

    Terry immediately began reaching through space, searching for that waypoint he¡¯d marked in his mind. As he stretched his aura, he sent a Team message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Guys, we¡¯re under attack. I need back up! I¡¯m sending you a portal.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: We got your back, Terry! Is it the monster?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We are ready.

    </blockquote>

    Rather than answer, Terry sliced space open, connecting the ghoul home to his team¡¯s tiny cave.

    Al¡¯Ruzan was the first through, his eyes instinctively tracking to Ben, his knife held tightly in his hand. Ben looked over, then was forced to pull his attention away as a handful of sanguine flew through the air toward them.

    Icicles pierced three of them and Ben leapt to intercept the last two¡ªone with a fist, the other with a boot.

    Juan Carlos came through next, a ball of fire cupped gingerly in his hand. His eyes found Terry, a smile forming before he caught sight of the movement all around them.

    ¡°Uh¡­Terry.¡±

    ¡°Talk later,¡± Terry grunted. His aura was shifting, Affixing Liquefy Metal as he dropped Draw Water. ¡°Vampires bad. Ghouls and human good.¡± He pointed up toward the swarming sanguine. ¡°Burn the bastards.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 31: The Blood of the Mother

    Flames scorched skin, icicles speared through flesh, and ghoul claws matched against sanguine fangs.

    Terry¡¯s aura continued to shift, his skin itching as he waited for Liquefy Metal to become active. He tried opening a portal to intercept a flying sanguine, but his aura bucked, the portal fizzling out as he lost his grip on it.

    Note to self, don¡¯t Affix Skills mid-combat¡­

    For the first time, he wished he¡¯d taken the Talent to halve his Affixing time, because this wait was killing him.

    Even though his aura pricked at him, he gritted his teeth and faced the incoming sanguine. A swarm fell from the ceiling, gliding down toward them with impressive agility. Ben¡¯s icicles sliced through a handful and Juan¡¯s fire splashed against another, but nearly a dozen made it past their ranged attacks.

    Al¡¯Ruzan stood at his shoulder, his knife held loosely. On his other side, ice began to climb up Ben¡¯s skin, encasing him in an armor that shimmered like diamonds. Behind them, he sensed the heat from Juan, felt it warm one side of his face as a liquid ball of fire smashed into another sanguine.

    Those that made it through their attacks swooped in hard, coming straight for the four of them. There was no time to think as two sanguine separated from the pack and angled straight for Terry. He simply put up his guard and braced for impact.

    His D-grade physique was more than enough to take a couple hundred pounds flying in at speed.

    What he couldn¡¯t take were the claws digging through his flesh and the fangs clamped onto his shoulders. He fell back on his training with Whipvine, focusing his efforts on creating space where his longer limbs would work to his advantage.

    Reaching up, he clamped a hand around a sanguine¡¯s neck and began to squeeze. It held on tenaciously for another few moments, then loosened its jaw enough for Terry to rip it away.

    He gasped in pain as its claws took flesh with it and he threw it to the ground in a mix of desperation and anger.

    His boot stomped on its head even as he reached up to the second one digging into his back. The angle was awkward and he fought through the pain in his side to lift his arm back toward the sanguine.

    But no matter how he reached, he couldn¡¯t get the leverage to tear the vampire away. He fought down the panic and reached for his aura. It was still shifting, but he tried to stir it anyway.

    A sharp pain stabbed between his eyes from the effort but desperation gripped him. He pushed his aura, searching for any Skill that would respond.

    His portals took very little energy, but the finesse required was beyond him right now. He reached for his Metal Telekinesis in an attempt to separate his bracelet and send silver ball bearings at the sanguine. He felt the bracelet shift, then go slack as he lost the Skill.

    Hot liquid drenched his back though the pain seemed to be distant. The weight of the sanguine told him it was still there, ripping into his flesh, but the white-hot pain had numbed to a bare pinprick.

    He knew he was losing too much blood, had to get this thing off him now.

    Fighting through the fog on his mind, he reached back and smashed his wrist against the sanguine in a desperate attempt to touch it with his silver bracelet.

    A painfully loud shriek sounded right in his ear and the weight left his back.

    He slumped to a knee, looking over to see the sanguine¡ªred blood dripping down its face¡ªcrawling away with a hateful look in its eyes.

    His aura settled, his new Skill shifting into place. With a grunt, he forced himself to his feet and activated his abilities.

    The silver ball bearings melted, straightening into two dozen needles that formed a net around him. With a flick of his aura, five of the needles shot forward, piercing the retreating sanguine through the face.

    Its shriek only lasted half a breath before the silver killed it.

    He turned to survey the battle and stumbled, a wave of dizziness taking him. Two hands wrapped around him, steadying him as he nearly fell. He turned, struggling to focus his eyes as he looked to see who had helped him.

    Ben looked down at him, diamond armor encasing everything except his face.

    They exchanged no words, Terry simply nodding once he¡¯d caught his balance. Over Ben¡¯s shoulder, he saw movement and acted on instinct.

    A dozen silver needles intercepted the flying sanguine, shredding its flesh wherever it touched.

    Ben whirled around to see the corpse smash into the ground, rolling to a stop before him. When he turned back, there was confusion in his eyes, his mouth opening to speak.

    Before he could, more sanguine dove from the ceiling to attack. Terry flared his aura and sent his wave of needles toward them. A chorus of shrieks filled the air as the entire group crashed to the ground.

    A moment later, a pulse of aura echoed out, filling the entire cavern. Terry felt there was some message in that pulse, rather than an ability, but he could barely stand, let alone grasp the nuance of the aura.

    But the meaning was clear enough when the hundreds of swarming sanguine peeled back like flies shooed from a corpse. They crawled or flew back toward the tunnels, a full retreat that saw the cave empty of sanguine in seconds.

    Terry cast a quick glance around, taking stock of the aftermath.

    Al¡¯Ruzan stood tall, half a dozen dead or dying sanguine in a semicircle around his feet, his blood dripping from just as many wounds. Juan had a gash across his forehead that dripped blood into his eyes, but was otherwise unharmed. Across the cavern, Crimson Spear walked amongst his people with no sign of injury, though Terry noted a half dozen ghouls that lay still.

    He turned to find Ben, only to see him standing right in front of him, his eyes narrowed.

    ¡°How¡¯d you do that?¡± the man asked.

    Terry¡¯s head was spinning and it took him a moment to process the words.

    ¡°Do what?¡± His words sounded slurred to his ears. He licked his lips, tasted blood.

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be a Traveler. How¡¯d you¡ª¡±

    Terry¡¯s world suddenly tilted, his legs going weak as he collapsed to the floor. He felt hands catch his head before it could crack against the stone.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    When he looked up, Ben was staring down at him with concern.

    Aw, he does care, Terry thought before everything went black.

    <hr>

    Sounds filtered in, distant and incomprehensible. Something touched his skin, soothing the heat that burned there.

    He tried to shift his thoughts into order but found them sluggish. The sounds moved in a pattern he distantly recognized but couldn¡¯t place.

    Rather than force it, he just lay there, letting the sensations wash over him, relishing in the alien sounds and the soft touches.

    But then a familiar word pierced through the fog over his mind and he was suddenly alert.

    Lakarot. Had he imagined it?

    He tried to open his eyes but they felt so heavy. Pushing through, he managed to peel back his eyelids, only to find himself staring into darkness. A soft green light dimly lit the ceiling he was looking at, but not enough to count.

    Lifting his head to gain any vantage seemed impossible, so he ranged out with his aura instead. After the frustration of trying to use it during an Affixation, he was relieved to feel it free flowing and responsive. It filled the room, giving him impressions that formed a dim image.

    Two people, their auras dense, stood apart from him in the direction of his feet. Beside him, he felt another aura, much dimmer, barely even registering to his senses. He began to wonder at that presence, when he felt a fourth person near his head.

    He looked up to see a hooded lich leaning over him, a type of brush in his skeletal hand. He was too tired to flinch at the surprise.

    ¡°Welcome back, young one,¡± the lich said. ¡°We thought your spirit might have fled.¡±

    He tried to speak, but hissed as the movement pulled at something painful on his neck.

    ¡°Sit back, kid.¡± Ben came into view near his feet. ¡°The muscles in your neck are still healing. Sanguine ripped into you good.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± He coughed, clearing the muck from his throat. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Crimson Spear joined Ben, his eyes seeming to pierce into Terry.

    ¡°We wondered the same thing,¡± Ben said, sticking to English despite the ghoul¡¯s presence. ¡°Never seen a raid that large in the years I¡¯ve been here.¡±

    Crimson Spear¡¯s aura shot forward in a questioning shape.

    ¡°How did you come to possess the Lakarot?¡±

    That word again!

    Terry furrowed his brow, tried to shake his head but winced at the pain.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know what that¡ª¡± He cut off as he noticed the Singularity cube on Ben¡¯s belt. His eyes widened. ¡°Is the Singularity the Lakarot?¡±

    Ben nodded slowly.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, kid. Meant to have this talk with you later but the sanguine forced the issue.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, forced the issue?¡±

    Ben shared a glance with Crimson Spear, visibly hesitating.

    ¡°The Dukes must¡¯ve sensed its presence. Only explanation for a raid that large.¡±

    Terry sent his aura out to double check, but there was no signature leaking from the cube.

    ¡°How? Not getting anything from it.¡±

    Ben rubbed at the back of his neck, a rare show of embarrassment on his face.

    ¡°I opened it after I first took you from the surface. Closed it back up soon as I recognized it¡­but must¡¯ve been enough for the suckers to pick up on the signature.¡±

    Shit. The implications of that made his hair stand up on his arms. That was just the first attack. There would be more.

    ¡°What is the Lakarot?¡± Terry asked. ¡°I mean, I know what it is, but why is it important to the sanguine? Why do I have a¡ª¡± He cut off as a System warning crossed his vision.

    Ben ignored his interrupted thought, chewing his lip with obvious hesitation.

    Terry studied the man, waiting for an explanation, when the lich¡¯s brush grazed against his neck. He flinched away, sparking a new wave of pain, and flicked his eyes over to the lich.

    It was only then that he realized they were in the Bloodsplatter¡¯s small Evolution Chamber. And he was laying right beside the pool they had been feeding dire wolf parts into.

    An irrational fear sparked inside of him that they had been about to feed him to their new spawnling, when he noticed what the lich was actually doing with the brush.

    The lich held the brush out for him to see and slowly dipped it into the black tar pool. It scraped the excess off delicately, coating the brush in a thin layer before bringing it toward Terry¡¯s neck.

    ¡°The blood of the mother heals,¡± the lich explained. ¡°Crimson Spear ordered that you be blessed, as you bled in defense of the clan.¡±

    Terry looked toward Crimson Spear in question but the ghoul¡¯s face was impassive. Judging by how little of the black liquid they possessed, Terry got the impression that this was quite a boon.

    ¡°Thank you, Crimson Spear,¡± Terry said.

    The ghoul inclined his head slightly.

    ¡°There are many who are beyond the healing touch of the blood. But it was deemed you could be saved, so as a favor to you and your master¡ª¡± He waved toward Ben. ¡°¡ªI agreed to spare some for your wounds.¡±

    Terry cast a surprised look toward Ben, who simply pressed his lips tight.

    No one said anything as the lich did one more pass with his brush. The sensation tickled at his skin.

    ¡°Done, young one. Rise slowly and let¡¯s hope there are no more sanguine raids while you heal.¡±

    Terry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Just moments ago, moving his head had sparked a wave of agony in his neck. He shifted his shoulders experimentally and though tight, the pain wasn¡¯t crippling.

    Slowly, he rolled onto his side, putting his hands and knees beneath him. Tight skin pulled along his back and neck, uncomfortable but not the telltale ripping of a fresh wound. Rising to his feet, he swayed slightly before catching his balance.

    Once he was steady, he bowed his head toward the lich and shaped his aura gratefully.

    ¡°Thank you for saving me.¡±

    The lich inclined his head back.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Ben said suddenly. ¡°Your friends are worried sick and frankly annoying the crap out of me.¡± He turned for the tunnel, glancing over his shoulder. ¡°The big one wants to fight again, I think.¡±

    Terry rolled his eyes, taking a halting step forward. When he didn¡¯t immediately feel a wave of dizziness, he took another.

    ¡°That¡¯s Al¡¯Ruzan. He¡¯s still salty about you beating him up and taking his food for¡­¡± Terry realized just how long their little arrangement must have been going on. ¡°Well, I guess you¡¯ve been shaking him down for years now.¡±

    Ben grunted, not turning back. ¡°It went to a better cause.¡±

    Terry spared a glance for the small pool where he sensed that burgeoning aura.

    I suppose the survival of an entire ghoul clan is more important. Not sure Big Al will agree though.

    He followed Ben and Crimson Spear through the short tunnel where the double doors were closed tight. The two of them pushed the doors open, diffused light streaming through the opening, making Terry squint as his eyes acclimated.

    Past the threshold, his team waited impatiently.

    Al¡¯Ruzan clutched his dagger, his eyes darting between Ben and Crimson Spear in open assessment. Juan delicately cupped fire in his palm as if it would snuff out at the slightest breeze. Chippy and Py were standing together, clearly engaged in a private chat conversation¡ªfor which Terry was pleased to see Al¡¯Ruzan had eased up on reprimanding them. And standing by Juan with her eyes closed was Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    As soon as the doors thumped open, Py, Chippy, and Juan let out little cheers at Terry¡¯s presence. Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes snapped open, icy and detached. Flecks of magic danced across her irises.

    But Al¡¯Ruzan was the first to step forward, his shoulders back, though he sheathed his dagger. Terry waited for the giant to say something¡ªor maybe even take a swing at Ben¡ªbut instead, he just stood there silently.

    Terry raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Al¡¯Ruzan looked toward Ben instead.

    That was when he realized the two of them must have been having a private conversation.

    Crimson Spear strode past the group without so much as a glance, Py and Chippy flinching away from the giant ghoul instinctively.

    Juan, seeing there wouldn¡¯t be a fight, came over with a big smile.

    ¡°Hey, Juan,¡± Terry said, matching the man¡¯s smile. ¡°What¡¯d I miss?¡±

    Juan shook his head, his eyes flicking to Ben and Al¡¯Ruzan over Terry¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°It was crazy, bro. Big Al was in a deathmatch with those things. That guy, whatever his name is, was throwing icicles and beating vampires to death with ice block hands.¡± He puffed his chest out dramatically. ¡°And yours truly burned no less than seven of those things.¡±

    Terry nodded appreciatively. ¡°Wow, nice job.¡± He shook his head with a snort. ¡°Guess I was the weak link.¡±

    Juan shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, bro. Soon as you started stabbing them with your little needles, they seemed to split pretty soon after. Oh, that reminds me.¡± He reached into his pocket, then flinched, pulling his hand back suddenly. ¡°Ow, mierda.¡± He sucked on his finger for a moment before reaching back in more delicately. After a moment, he pulled free a dozen thin needles. ¡°Grabbed your sewing kit,¡± he said with a wry smile.

    Terry laughed, flexing his aura. He reveled in the ease with which it responded, the needles liquefying in Juan¡¯s hand in an instant. The man yelped in surprise, snatching his hand back, though Terry knew he hadn¡¯t pricked him.

    Molding the silver back into the shape of his bracelet, he activated Metal Telekinesis and slipped it over his wrist magically.

    A voice spoke from behind him.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s about time you explained how you¡¯re able to do that.¡±

    Terry turned to see Ben regarding him with a guarded expression. He bit his lip in thought before responding.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy to do that.¡± He stepped toward the man, holding his gaze. ¡°And you can tell me everything you know about this¡­Lakarot.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 32: The Bonus Objective

    Terry and Ben locked eyes, a tension rising there, neither of them giving an inch to the other.

    Behind Terry, Juan suddenly blurted out in surprise. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what! You can speak English?¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes flicked over Terry¡¯s shoulder, then back. But the tension drained away with that simple movement and the man sighed.

    ¡°Yes, I speak English,¡± he replied wearily.

    Juan strode to Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Bro, I¡¯ve got a bone to pick with you. Why the hell you been stealing our food for months?¡± He pinched at his belly dramatically. ¡°I¡¯ve lost like six kilo. My abuela¡¯s never gonna let me live this down.¡± His tone took on a high, reedy tone. ¡°Juan Carlos! I told you this superhero garbage isn¡¯t for you. You¡¯re as thin as a stick and been missing for two months.¡± His voice switched back to normal. ¡°This is around the time she¡¯d swat at me with a flip flop or a newspaper or a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Juan?¡±

    The man cut off, looking toward Terry.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    Terry gave Ben a meaningful look, then turned toward Juan. ¡°I¡¯ll explain everything to you later, okay? But right now, Ben and I need to have a talk.¡±

    Juan¡¯s eyes grew incrementally wider as Terry spoke, culminating in him mouthing the word: Ben, in slow motion. After a moment, he seemed to finally pick up on the tension in the air.

    ¡°Oh, yeah, sure thing, Terry.¡± He began slowly backing away, his hands raised dramatically. ¡°Don¡¯t mind me.¡± Under his breath, he muttered, ¡°Only scorched seven of the vampires.¡±

    Terry shook his head, knowing he had been curt with Juan. He¡¯d make it up to the man later. For now, he needed to get to the bottom of the entire reason they were in the Underworld to begin with.

    And how they were gonna get out of here.

    Turning back to Ben, he opened his mouth to ask just that, when Ben also started to speak. They both stopped abruptly.

    ¡°You first,¡± Ben said.

    Terry considered that for a moment. As much as he wanted to get his answers, he didn¡¯t want his lines of questioning interrupted if Ben got impatient.

    ¡°No, you first,¡± Terry insisted.

    In the little time Terry had known the man, Ben had been unusually stoic. So it was a surprise when he started biting his lip nervously.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to know how you¡¯re able to manifest multiple Class Skills?¡± he asked. He hesitated a moment, clearly not done. ¡°And¡­the metal elementalism.¡± He seemed to become suddenly embarrassed, as if Terry had made some expression. ¡°It¡¯s an unusual powerset, is all,¡± he quickly added.

    Terry narrowed his eyes, confused by that sudden shift in Ben¡¯s tone.

    ¡°Well, since the cat¡¯s outta the bag, you¡¯ve probably already figured it out. I can catalog others¡¯ abilities and then make them part of my own powerset. It¡¯s called Affixing and I can only have a certain number active at a time¡ªand only at my rank or lower.¡±

    Ben was nodding along, so Terry continued.

    ¡°And as for the metal elementalism¡ª¡± Ben¡¯s face hardened, as if bracing for impact. Terry hesitated, studying the man¡¯s expression. But there was nothing to be read in that icy set of his lips, the loose-lidded gaze, except rapt attention. ¡°Well, I copied those Skills directly from my grandfather, Silver. He¡¯s an S-ranker who started as an Elementalist and transitioned to Duelist.¡±

    The tension visibly released, Ben¡¯s eyes relaxing, his lips no longer pressed tight. He snorted, shaking his head.

    ¡°Thanks for explaining, Terry. I know the details of a super¡¯s powerset are particularly private and you didn¡¯t have to, so¡­thanks.¡±

    Terry nodded, not quite put at ease. There was something lingering, niggling at the back of his mind that wouldn¡¯t let him move on to the topic of his Quest, even though it was all he could think about moments earlier.

    ¡°Why,¡± he started, wondering how to phrase the question. ¡°Why did you ask about the metal elementalism, specifically?¡±

    Ben took on a chagrined expression, rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment. ¡°Ah, forget it.¡± He shook his head like it had been a silly thought. ¡°Just someone I knew once had the same set of Skills. Wasn¡¯t named Silver, though, so not the same guy.¡±

    Terry¡¯s stomach flipped, goosebumps forming on his arms.

    ¡°Ben¡­¡± he said slowly.

    The man¡¯s eyebrows rose in concern. ¡°What? What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Terry took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart.

    ¡°Was the man¡¯s name¡­Lance Gunnar?¡± The sudden widening of Ben¡¯s eyes was tell enough, but Terry couldn¡¯t stop, like a rock rolling down a mountain, the words fell out of their own accord. ¡°Also known as¡­Gunmetal?¡±

    Ben¡¯s mouth gaped open and shut multiple times, as if he were forming words, then yanking them back. Their eyes met, the sudden realization passing between them unspoken.

    Suddenly, Ben turned away, taking three halting steps before stopping.

    ¡°So, the old bastard¡¯s still kicking,¡± Ben muttered.

    Terry took a step toward the man, feeling the connection so suddenly, realizing it might have been there the whole time.

    ¡°Ben, who is he to you?¡±

    The man scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°No one¡­¡± Terry narrowed his eyes and Ben looked back over his shoulder, the emotions writ clear across his face. ¡°And everyone.¡±

    Terry knew the answer, but it needed to be said out loud, pulled free like some spell on the cusp of completion, ready to fizzle out if left incomplete.

    ¡°Silver. Lance Gunnar¡­he¡¯s your dad.¡±

    A strangled laugh left Ben, full of acidic humor.

    ¡°Sure is, in so much as a man you haven¡¯t seen in forty years can be anything to you.¡± He turned to face Terry, his expression constantly shifting between a kaleidoscope of emotions. After a moment, a sad smile took hold. ¡°Guess that makes us family.¡± He shook his head in disbelief. ¡°Penelope¡¯s son? Or did Dad have more kids after I¡­¡± He trailed off, the hurt clear in his voice.

    Terry took another step forward, closing the gap.

    ¡°Yes, Penelope¡¯s my mother.¡± Terry hesitated, wondering how much to say. After a moment, he realized that Ben had been offworld for decades. The pain of never knowing what happened to your family must have eaten away at him, leaving a hollow husk of a man. ¡°Silver¡ªLance, or whatever.¡± He snorted. ¡°Grampa, sometimes. Well, he¡­he also went missing.¡±

    Ben¡¯s head snapped up.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°What do you mean? He¡¯s gone?¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°No. I, uh, I don¡¯t have all the context, but he was on his Capstone for some forty odd years¡ªlike you, I guess. Only came back last year. That¡¯s when I met him and learned some of his Skills.¡±

    The revelation seemed to draw a mixed reaction from Ben. Terry watched the war inside of him as he tried to reconcile the news. After a moment, a question seemed to spark behind his eyes.

    ¡°Wait, forty years? So he left right after me?¡±

    Terry nodded, which caused Ben¡¯s eyes to darken.

    ¡°What about Pen? She was just a kid when I left on my Midmark¡­¡±

    ¡°Sol¡ªSolomon Rosenthal¡ªtook care of her while he¡­¡± He trailed off as Ben¡¯s eyes turned cold, ice-blue magic ringing his irises.

    ¡°He¡­left her?¡± The words were soft, but Terry felt a deadly energy lacing them. Rime frost began to coat the floor, chill the air, rise up Ben¡¯s clothes. ¡°He left her¡ª¡± His voice raised, turning into a bellow. ¡°¡ªfor forty years!¡±

    Terry took an involuntary step back as cold air blasted him, sending a shiver up his back. He looked behind him to see the entire cavern stilled. Ghouls watched in violent anticipation. Al¡¯Ruzan touched the tip of his knife hilt with a single clawed finger. Juan held his ball of fire to his chest like it was a baby chick. Chippy and Py Dar shifted behind Al¡¯Ruzan discreetly.

    Of the five of them, only Mara-Lin-Jaid seemed unconcerned, her stone-still expression watching the two of them stoically.

    When Terry turned back, the aura and frost had begun to dissipate as Ben¡¯s shoulders sagged. Despite being a giant of a man, he suddenly seemed so small and tired.

    ¡°I should¡¯ve gone back,¡± he muttered. ¡°I should¡¯ve protected her.¡±

    Sensing an opening, Terry stepped forward.

    ¡°There was nothing you could have done. You were on your Quest and¡ª¡±

    Ben¡¯s head shot up, his eyes opaque with chips of white-blue magic that looked like a storm. His voice full of ice.

    ¡°Yes, there was!¡± His voice echoed throughout the cavern and he seemed to suddenly realize that every eye was on him. Lowering his voice, he repeated himself. ¡°Yes, there was. I could have gone back after my Midmark.¡± Terry¡¯s eyes widened at the revelation. ¡°I¡­chose to stay. My own arrogance¡ªmy useless, stupid need to one up my father.¡± His eyes found Terry, the white-blue magic slowly subsiding. ¡°I wanted to come back an S-ranker. Be the youngest, reach the rank the fastest. Shove it down my father¡¯s throat so he¡¯d be forced to acknowledge that I was better than him.¡±

    Terry shook his head, something not quite adding up.

    ¡°So you chose to stay in the Underworld? But why haven¡¯t you¡­¡± He trailed off as Ben shook his head.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t stay in the Underworld. I transitioned to the Underworld.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow at that. ¡°What do you mean transitioned?¡±

    Ben didn¡¯t respond immediately, his eyes scanning the floor fitfully, like he were reliving distant, painful memories. After a moment, he sighed.

    ¡°I was on a planet called Makaros for my Midmark. When I completed my Quest, my System gave me a choice.¡± His eyes lifted, meeting Terry¡¯s. ¡°Return home until my Capstone or transition to an adjacent world to continue advancing.¡±

    Terry shook his head in confusion. ¡°But why? What was the payoff?¡±

    Ben snorted, looking around with a humorous twinkle in his eye. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Terry. There was opportunity for quick advancement¡ªmore Quests, higher danger, higher reward. But I¡­¡± His eyes caught on Crimson Spear, the other ghouls observing from afar. ¡°I could have finished my¡ª¡± He cut off, an obvious notification flashing in his vision. He sniffed, clearing it with a flick of his eyes. ¡°I could have returned home an S-ranker decades ago.¡± He waved to indicate the ghouls. ¡°But I¡¯d have been leaving them to die.¡± He shook his head, his voice low. ¡°I couldn¡¯t do that, you see?¡± His eyes took on a steely glint. ¡°Cause we¡¯re the reason they¡¯re dying. Us heroes¡ª¡± He spat the word. ¡°¡ªstole what wasn¡¯t ours to take¡­¡± His hand reached down to the Singularity cube, patting it gently. ¡°But now we have a chance to right that wrong. A chance to restore the Bloodsplatter Clan to prominence. Give their world another shot at life.¡±

    It was so much to process, Terry had to take a minute. Over his shoulder, he spotted the others still watching them, though only Juan would have understood the conversation.

    None of it made sense to him.

    ¡°Why? Why do the Systems give the S-rankers a Quest to collect the Singularities if by doing so, they¡¯re killing these other worlds?¡±

    Ben sighed, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t have all the answers, Terry. I only know one thing for certain.¡± He lifted the cube, weighing it in his hand. ¡°Losing this Singularity is killing this world. If things continue as they are, the ghouls, the liches¡ªeven the sanguine¡ªwill go extinct. They survive on that black liquid back in that chamber¡ªthe Blood of the Mother, they call it. And since the Singularity was taken, that blood has become a finite resource.¡±

    Terry nodded reluctantly. ¡°Their pool did seem incredibly small. Back in Wichita, my other grandfather¡¯s ghouls have a lake as wide as this cavern.¡± He thought back to Hoping Tree¡¯s words. ¡°They called it the wealth of their clan.¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes widened at that. ¡°There are ghouls back on Earth?¡±

    ¡°Yep. My grandfather has thousands of them. The Bonesplinter Clan. It¡¯s where I learned ghoulish.¡±

    Behind him, Juan suddenly gasped.

    ¡°No way!¡±

    Terry turned in confusion.

    ¡°No freakin¡¯ way!¡± Juan repeated, looking between the others before realizing they didn¡¯t speak English. ¡°You¡¯re Terry Fairway? Like, prince of Wichita, grandson to Emperor Necroton!¡±

    Terry felt a flush rise to his face as he shifted uncomfortably.

    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± he admitted lamely.

    Juan¡¯s eyes somehow grew wider and he slapped Chippy¡¯s arm in excitement.

    <blockquote>

    [Chippy]: Why do you hit me, Juan Carlos?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Terry¡¯s famous! His grandfather¡¯s like, a crazy powerful supervillain.

    </blockquote>

    Terry groaned, rolling his eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: He¡¯s not a supervillain. And I¡¯m not famous, no one¡¯s even heard of me.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: You have your own HeroWatch entry, bro!

    </blockquote>

    Huh, that was news. I wonder what it says¡ªno, focus!

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: We can talk about that later. We¡¯re dealing with something a bit more important here right now.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: And do you care to share?

    </blockquote>

    Terry could see from the giant¡¯s posture that he was none too pleased to have been left out of the conversation. He held up a placating hand, turning to Juan.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Juan, maybe you can dictate for me? I can¡¯t do both at once right now.

    </blockquote>

    Juan nodded hurriedly and the streams of text began to roll in a few moments later. Turning back to Ben, Terry brought the conversation back on track.

    ¡°So, things are that dire here?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Ben said with a nod. ¡°And with the recent losses from that raid, it¡¯s only gonna get worse for the clan. I have no idea on the state of the other clans, but I can¡¯t imagine it¡¯s good.¡±

    Terry bit his lip, trying to make all the pieces fit together.

    ¡°Every A-ranker on their Capstone gets the same secondary Quest, right?¡± he asked, thinking out loud. Ben nodded along. ¡°There has to be a reason. Why give every single super a Quest to gather the Singularities to become the Omega? Maybe we need the Omega for something else, something bigger? Or maybe the Omega could fix all this,¡± he added with a wave of his hand toward the ghouls.

    Ben seemed to mull it over for a moment before responding.

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± he said hesitantly. ¡°But the fact that you have this, brought it here, to the Underworld¡­doesn¡¯t that tell you anything?¡± When Terry didn¡¯t immediately respond, Ben sighed. ¡°It tells me something.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Your System wants you to restore the Singularity to its rightful home. Not become some all-powerful, arbiter of Earth.¡±

    Terry considered that in silence. Ben was right, it was difficult to reconcile those two facts. Why did his System give him the Deny the Omega Quest? It¡¯s not like it could have possibly expected him to do anything else than what he had done. It clearly had intended him to accept the Summons and bring it with him to the Underworld¡ªthe Aura Filtering Container was proof of that.

    No, Ben was right about one thing. He had definitely been led to come to the Underworld with the Singularity. Which meant his System either didn¡¯t want the Omega to form¡­or hadn¡¯t wanted the person being chosen to become the Omega¡­

    The implications of that rocked him. Was that it? Had his System specifically not wanted his mother to become the Omega?

    ¡°There¡¯s too many unknown variables¡ª¡±

    He was cut off as Crimson Spear suddenly rushed over, his aura pushing forward in an urgent shape.

    ¡°Scouts returned,¡± he said in rapid fire ghoulish. ¡°Another sanguine raid is incoming.¡± His eerily human eyes looked between the two of them. ¡°This one is much bigger.¡± He nodded toward the chamber behind them. ¡°We go to secure the spawnling and as much as the blood as we can. The surface is our only option¡ª¡±

    Ben cut him off with a shake of his head and an aura shape.

    ¡°Not our only option.¡± His eyes met Terry¡¯s, a desperate fire there where it had once been icy cold. ¡°We could delve deeper.¡± His hands traced to the cube as he looked between the two of them. ¡°Return the Lakarot to its home.¡±

    Terry felt adrift, like a leaf in a storm, pulled against his will with the whims of the wind. His mother had been slated to become the Omega. She was good and just and the best person he knew. Yet, his System had denied her ascension, orchestrated his Summons in order to separate the Singularities.

    Was returning it to the Underworld what his System had intended all along? He pulled his Quest up and read it over and over again, filled with more questions than answers.

    Bonus Objective: Restore the Lakarot to power.

    Why was it a Bonus Objective? That implied there was a choice to be made, that he could return to Earth with or without the Singularity. The System made its preference known, but wasn¡¯t forcing his hand.

    Ben and Crimson Spear were staring at him, waiting for his answer. He couldn¡¯t have stopped them if he tried, but still, they waited. Something about that filled him with a trust he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d felt before.

    With a nod, he agreed.

 B2 - Chapter 33: Skill Master

    As Terry and Juan caught the others up to speed, the Bloodsplatter Clan scurried about to leave their home forever.

    Whatever happened next, they would never be able to return to here again.

    When the preparations were finished, less than a hundred ghouls and only five liches were arrayed in the center of the large cavern. Exiting from the double doors leading to their Evolution Chamber, Crimson Spear led four ghouls carrying a stone sarcophagus on their shoulders like a funeral procession.

    The entirety of their Blood of the Mother and their lone ghoul spawnling were encased in that sarcophagus.

    Compared to the obscene wealth of the ghouls of Wichita, it felt like a pauper¡¯s worldly possessions.

    By his side, Ben¡ªUncle Ben, though he felt no urge to call him that¡ªwas explaining the layout of the Underworld to the group, with Juan dictating in Team Chat.

    ¡°It¡¯s stratified layers under the Surface. The top layer where we are now is still referred to as the Surface¡ªit¡¯s where the weak clans are pushed, further away from the source of the Blood.¡± Holding his hands up, palms down, he laid them on top of each other. ¡°The layers are pressed tight, but there¡¯s always a small liminal layer in between where the creatures, loners, and lower intelligence undead congregate. The more powerful races tend to push them toward these layers, away from where they live and breed.¡± His eyes hardened, studying the group carefully. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re weak. Draugr packs, rogue patchworks, powerful wraiths, maulers, bone drakes and worse.¡±

    Terry felt his pulse quicken, thoughts of roaming draugrs and patchworks sending a shiver down his back. Though he was confident in handling a sole draugr, a pack sounded terrifying. And he¡¯d never seen a patchwork in a true battle. His imagination ran rampant and he wondered just how powerful the hulking undead truly were.

    He didn¡¯t even let his mind fill in the blanks on what a bone drake was.

    ¡°We¡¯re a large group, so the loners should leave us be¡ªfor the most part.¡± Juan shared an anxious look with Chippy and Py, clearly focusing on that last bit. ¡°But with the Red Dukes hounding us, we may find ourselves pushed into a creature¡¯s territory and be forced to put it down. So stay on guard at all times.¡±

    He opened his mouth to add something else when Crimson Spear appeared at his shoulder.

    ¡°We are ready.¡±

    Terry translated the ghoul¡¯s words for the group.

    Ben nodded. ¡°Us, too. We¡¯ll follow your lead.¡±

    A wave of aura washed off Crimson Spear, passing over the assembled ghouls. Without another word, the procession loped off, moving at a steady jog that would have tired normie Terry in minutes.

    The Awakened group set off quickly, not wanting to lose the ghouls in the twisting passages leading below.

    A pitiful chirping sound came from behind Terry and he looked back to see Chippy waddling as fast as he could on his short legs, his face pinched tight in concern.

    Terry smiled and reached down, scooping the tiny alien into his arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You don¡¯t mind being carried, do you?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Quite the contrary. It is my preferred mode of transport.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy settled comfortably into his arms as Terry laughed.

    They left the large cavern that was the Bloodsplatter home and entered tunnels dark enough that Terry had to acclimate his eyes with Master of Light before he could continue on. On a whim, he considered opening a portal to the surface to let in the natural light, but had no way to adjust it with their passage except to continuously open and close new portals.

    The handicap made him consider the Anchor a Skill Quest. He had been so close to figuring that trick out when everything had gone down back on Earth. Only with the Singularity¡¯s help had he managed to anchor his teleportation skill to it.

    But if he could anchor a portal to an object, they¡¯d have portable light to ease their journey¡ªand fight off attacking sanguine.

    More importantly than that, the possibilities multiplied a hundredfold if he considered the capability to anchor any of his Skills to any object. A token that allowed teleportation, glasses that gave the wearer infrared vision, metal imbued with telekinesis¡ªthe list went on and on.

    He wished he¡¯d taken the time to experiment in the downtime before Ben had kidnapped him.

    As they ran deeper into the winding tunnels, he considered experimenting as they traveled. He sent Ben a message, since the man was near the front of the traveling group and out of earshot.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Can you ask Crimson Spear if I can open a portal to the surface? I want to experiment with having it follow us so we have permanent light¡ªat least during the day.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: You can do that? If you could keep one open and following us, the sanguine would be forced to stay back. Do it.

    </blockquote>

    Not needing any further prompting, Terry reached up with his aura toward the surface. He felt Chippy stir in his arms as he sensed the power, but Terry maintained his focus as he prepared the portal framework.

    He thought back to when the Singularity had burned within him, tried to recall the intricate structure that he¡¯d constructed on pure instinct. It was fleeting in his mind, like trying to hold ten different equations in his thoughts at once.

    He tried anyway, crafting the aura framework in a way that he thought resembled what he had done with the Singularity.

    Light burst into the tunnel, burning his eyes for a moment before he adjusted its brightness to a more manageable level.

    The portal quickly trailed behind him as they continued their run. He reached for it frantically, trying to alter its position using his sense of space and aura frameworks. But before he felt any sort of headway begin to form, they turned a corner and it was out of sight.

    He sniffed in annoyance. It wasn¡¯t like he had thought he¡¯d get it right on the first try, but he had hoped to at least get a sense for where he needed to direct his efforts.

    In his arms, Chippy squeaked quietly.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: What are you attempting, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    He considered how to explain, feeling that he sounded a bit arrogant when forced to say it to someone else.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m trying to create a moving portal. Something that will follow my commands, or at least a fixed target. But it¡¯s no use with us running like this.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy was quiet for a moment and Terry considered trying once more when the message came in.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Perhaps I could help? I know I¡¯m not much use physically, but I am a Savant¡­

    </blockquote>

    Terry read that message wide eyed, feeling like a fool. That settled it, he was arrogant. How could he not have thought to lean upon the expertise of a Class that was literally known for their analytical abilities.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That would be amazing, Chippy.

    </blockquote>

    He felt the little alien shimmy deeper into his arms, a self-satisfied look on the rodent-like face.

    <hr>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: You see this partition here?

    </blockquote>

    His three-fingered claw reached out, highlighting a section of the passing portal as they ran past it. Terry squinted¡ªa natural instinct that he didn¡¯t think helped him examine the aura framework in the slightest¡ªand thought he saw where Chippy was pointing.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Yeah¡­

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: My belief is that is responsible for an axis of its positioning. If so, then it follows that this secondary partition would be a second axis. I¡¯ve yet to find the third, but it¡¯s possible it¡¯s wedged underneath.

    I¡¯m fairly confident this is the exit-side positioning¡ªI have yet to find any sections that correspond to the entrance positioning¡­

    </blockquote>

    Terry furrowed his brow, looking down at the rodent thing he carried in his arms like that one alien in that pre-Call movie series¡ªthe one with the big ears that talked in a strange pattern¡­he couldn¡¯t remember its name.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How are you making that deduction? I don¡¯t see anything about that area that would suggest it¡¯s related to location¡­

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked¡ªa less cute sound now that he realized it also signaled annoyance.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Because I¡¯ve studied aura frameworks for years, Terry. And there¡¯s another piece that connects to you that is reading the data from that axis partition. As we move further away, that component alters slightly.

    My hypothesis is that the fourth partition is tracking your positioning in relation to its own positioning using the aura tether and the three axes partitions.

    </blockquote>

    Terry blinked.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Show me.

    </blockquote>

    Another portal cut through space a few feet in front of them and Chippy extended his aura like a professor¡¯s extended stylus. In quick succession, he indicated the two axes partitions he had found, then the positional partition that supposedly reflected the portal¡¯s positioning relative to Terry.

    He studied that section of the aura framework, taking an Aura Snapshot as they approached, then another one as they passed for cross-reference.

    As they continued on, he pulled up the two mental molds and compared them. The Skill didn¡¯t highlight the differences naturally, but he didn¡¯t need it to; the contrast was obvious almost on first glance.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Shit¡­I think you¡¯re right!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Mmmm.

    </blockquote>

    The alien shivered in Terry¡¯s arms, like a cat¡¯s purr¡­he hoped. It was obvious that Chippy had a scientist¡¯s disposition that had been wasted for months trapped in that cave on the Surface, and he was relishing in being useful for a change.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So, if I alter that partition¡­

    </blockquote>

    He reached out to the portal fading behind them, molded the first section Chippy had highlighted with a flex of his aura. The portal disappeared and Terry felt a wash of disappointment.

    But then he paused; something still pulled at his aura. With a start, he traced along that line that he had assumed severed naturally. It led down, deep into the ground and out of sight.

    When he found its terminus, the portal was still intact, nearly a mile below where he had first opened it.

    He stopped jogging in shock, his eyes going wide. A huffing and puffing Juan bumped into his back with a bevy of Spanish curses and Terry quickly apologized before messaging Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It worked! Changing that first partition moved it beneath us! But it¡¯s still open!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Nice one, Chippy!

    </blockquote>

    Terry raised his eyebrows at the alien, who squeaked again¡ªa happy one, he thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Now, the trick is to find the other two axes. Once we¡¯ve isolated those, we can begin fine-tuning the process of moving the portal!

    </blockquote>

    He tried the second partition Chippy had pointed out and met success again, watching with his senses as the portal zipped sideways through the side of the tunnel, disappearing through the stone. Terry cheered, Chippy squeaked, and they set themselves to uncovering the final axis of positioning.

    As he peeled apart the aura framework, he and Chippy mentally cataloged the first partition that controlled up and down as the y-axis, the second partition as the x-axis, and the yet uncovered third partition as the z-axis.

    His aura delved into the portal as they jogged past, working fast before they left it behind. Before he could pinpoint that third partition, it was out of sight.

    He tried again, and again.

    On the fourth try, he managed to hold back both of the blocking partitions by splitting his focus, then quickly altered the third partition that seemed to connect to the fourth partition that they were referring to as the relative-axis.

    The portal suddenly zipped forward, nearly colliding with Juan¡¯s head. The man cried out in surprise as the blue-white oval whipped past him.

    Terry wasn¡¯t sure if the portal would have taken Juan¡¯s head with it, but he still felt terrible and spent the next few minutes reassuring the man that it wouldn¡¯t happen again.

    When Juan was reluctantly assuaged, Terry and Chippy celebrated¡ªquietly; they¡¯d accurately pinpointed the three physical axes and could¡ªin theory¡ªalter the portal¡¯s positioning in real time.

    About thirty minutes into their run down the low-grade tunnel, Ben sent a message to them all that they were stopping for a break while the scouts ranged ahead.

    Juan said a prayer in Spanish under his breath as they entered a wide open cave that branched into four distinct tunnels. The cave was dimly lit by green moss growing from the ceiling¡ªjust enough with Terry¡¯s Master of Light Skill for him to see end-to-end.

    The hundred ghouls didn¡¯t mill about mindlessly, but instead turned to sharpening weapons, resecuring their packs, or other tasks that Terry couldn¡¯t figure out the purpose for. The spawnling¡¯s sarcophagus was reverently lowered to the ground, the four bearers circling it like an honor guard.

    Though he wasn¡¯t winded in the slightest, he was excited for the break¡ªit would give him and Chippy time to experiment with the positioning partitions in one sitting instead of piecemeal as they whipped past the portals.

    Setting Chippy down, he summoned another portal. Brilliant yellow-white light streamed into the cave, illuminating the far corners and drowning out the green luminescent light from the moss.

    Eyes were drawn toward them, Al¡¯Ruzan, Mara-Lin-Jaid, and the ghouls who had been ahead of them and so hadn¡¯t noticed their experimentation during the run.

    Terry ignored them as Chippy¡¯s claw reached up, poking at the aura framework around the portal.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: I think we ignore these three-dimensional positional axes and focus on the relative-axis. With this, you should be able to force the portal to follow you at a fixed relative position.

    </blockquote>

    He thought the logic was sound but he wanted to be careful messing with any of the positional axes because zipping a portal through someone¡¯s head wasn¡¯t what friends did to each other.

    All the same, he noticed Juan discreetly angling behind Al¡¯Ruzan and Terry chuckled to himself quietly as he examined the aura.

    It was strange considering the partitions as positional because there were no numbers, just shapes. By altering the shapes of the aura, it moved the portal or even altered the Skill¡­

    His eyes went wide. When he didn¡¯t move for a moment, Chippy looked up in confusion.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Terry?

    </blockquote>

    He didn¡¯t respond as he pulled up another Skill. With a thought, he activated Metal Telekinesis and pulled his silver bracelet up into the air, putting it side-by-side with the portal framework.

    His eyes and senses ranged back and forth, looking for the connection, knowing it had to be there. Chippy had stared at him oddly for a moment, then chirped as if in excitement. Terry felt his aura pass over the two Skills beside his, studying the vastly different frameworks¡ª

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: I found it!

    </blockquote>

    Terry couldn¡¯t hope to believe that Chippy had understood what he was looking for. Almost in disbelief, he replied.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Where?

    </blockquote>

    Chippy¡¯s aura shifted, peeling back the framework of Metal Telekinesis as he circled a particular section that looked familiar, yet different, from Terry¡¯s portal skill.

    Now that it was pointed out, the similarities were obvious.

    Neither of them said another word as Terry began to manipulate the portal framework, shifting it like he¡¯d once done months ago to Light Shift and his High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation to create Master of Light. He didn¡¯t know what the result would be¡ªLight Shift and portals evolving into Master of Light had been unexpected. Some variation of Master of Metal would be incredible, but for now, he just continued to work without trying to steer the new framework into any particular direction.

    As he ran his senses over both frameworks, he began to catalog the sections of the molds that he intuitively realized were compatible. Compared to before when he¡¯d created Master of Light, his aura attributes were much stronger¡ªand now, he had Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Try this here. No, no¡ªhere!

    </blockquote>

    Terry faltered, trying to follow the little Savant¡¯s direction. But once he realized where Chippy was pointing, he saw it too¡ªa fold in Metal Telekinesis that would slot perfectly in the portal framework.

    They continued like that for the next few minutes, Terry working on intuition and Chippy giving suggestions when his intuition missed the bigger picture. He might have thought two cooks in the kitchen would be a disaster for his progress, but Chippy had the perfect temperament to complement Terry¡¯s more artistic approach and he could feel¡ªjust feel¡ªthat they were moving at a breakneck pace compared to his earlier attempts in Wichita.

    When Ben came over and gave them a two minute warning about breaking camp, Terry held up a hand, silently shifting another fold in the portal framework. It slotted into place perfectly and he sat back, giving Chippy a satisfied look. The two of them stared at each other in silence for a moment, the tension building, until they both cheered together¡ªTerry whooping, Chippy letting out a high-pitched series of squeaks that he nevertheless understood perfectly.

    He didn¡¯t even need to see the notifications that rolled in to know that it had worked; they¡¯d created a new Skill from two existing Skills.

    Not only that, he felt it on some intuitive level that this Skill was a class above anything else in his catalog.

    When he read the notifications, he could only shake his head, wide eyed and slack jawed as the others crowded around.

    New Skill created: [Master of Telekinesis]

    Master of Telekinesis (D ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Use aura to move physical objects. Speed, dexterity, and distance of movement are dependent on weight and caster¡¯s mastery of aura manipulation and aura projection.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank, understanding, and aura control increase, so can this Skill.

 B2 - Chapter 34: Holy Mission

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: What is it, Terry? What did we create?

    </blockquote>

    Terry didn¡¯t respond immediately, turning his attention to his Affixations. His D-slots were taken up by Master of Light, his portal skill, and Manipulate Roots, so he prepared to drop that in favor of his new Skill.

    Chippy squeaked as Terry¡¯s aura began to shift the new D-ranked Skill into place.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Terry! My pores are leaking! Tell Chippy!

    </blockquote>

    He laughed at that, even as the itch of the Affixation chafed at his aura. With a thought, he projected the Skill description in the Team Chat.

    Ben eyed him with a pinched brow, his eyes roving over Terry, but really studying the change in his aura.

    As he started to explain to Ben, the Team Chat notifications filled his vision.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What is that? Why did you share this Skill description?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chippy]: We made it, Py! From scratch! Okay¡­not from scratch, but Terry combined two Skills and a NEW one was formed!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: That¡¯s not possible.

    </blockquote>

    He ignored the continuing conversation, turning toward Ben.

    ¡°What am I seeing, kid?¡±

    Terry felt his aura begin to slow, the new Affixation settling into place. He held up a finger, waiting for it to slot into¡­

    ¡°Ah, there it is.¡± He smiled, taking in the crowd that had formed around him. ¡°Let¡¯s see what this can do.¡±

    As he activated the Skill, it felt both the same and different from Metal Telekinesis. With the Skill he¡¯d learned from Silver, he could feel the metal, intuitively understand that it would react to his aura and move via his will. But he couldn¡¯t really sense hidden metal or pinpoint every piece of metal in a room. There was a need to target the object, be aware of its existence in some strange way.

    Master of Telekinesis was overwhelming in comparison. The moment he activated it, everything in sight seemed to pull on his attention¡ªa sort of aura current that called to him, broadcast its ability to be moved. More than that, he could feel a sense of weight¡ªno, not weight exactly. As he shifted his aura, he began to recognize that sensation as more of a gauge for how far, fast, and agile he could move the object. It was like a series of readout dials written in the flow of aura.

    And it was drowning him in sensory feedback.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± he gasped. With a subtle flex, he isolated a fist-sized rock and lifted it to head height. His sense of the rock was that he could launch it fast¡ªfast enough to do serious damage to a non-Awakened. He split his focus, reaching for another rock.

    Immediately, the sensory overload quadrupled. Everything in sight shifted, the telemetry data of the aura reacting to his split focus. The rock in his control¡ªand everything else¡ªlost a bit of potential.

    There was so much shifting information assailing his senses, he felt like he was looking at a hundred dials each telling him some different datum. If he tried to take it all in at once, he thought he¡¯d go mad.

    With a thought, he dropped the rock and reached out to something more nebulous. Juan had been carefully cupping his ball of flame like a newborn, so when Terry reached for it, the man let out a little gasp as he felt it pulled from his grip.

    ¡°Hey¡­¡± he complained.

    Terry couldn¡¯t help but smile; his aura held the flame as naturally as his Metal Telekinesis worked his silver needles. He shot Juan an apologetic look as he continued to move the fire, stretching it thin, then contracting it into a ball once more.

    There was something different about shifting the flame that felt off from the rock or his metal bracelet¡ªsome element or quality that was constantly changing, making his control feel tenuous.

    As he passed the ball of fire back to Juan, he couldn¡¯t help but feel that it was just a bit diminished from before. Judging from the way it flared back into brilliant brightness upon Juan¡¯s touch, he gathered he had been right; just controlling the flame wasn¡¯t enough, Juan had some other Skill stoking the fire.

    He opened his mouth to ask about the Skill¡ªmaybe he could catalog it really quick¡ªwhen a ripple of aura passed among the ghouls.

    Ben felt it too and turned to see Crimson Spear in a ready stance, his namesake weapon held loosely in two hands. Terry strained to see what had set off the ghouls when the wave hit him.

    The temperature in the cave dipped twenty degrees in a flash; frost began to coat the ground; Juan gasped like his breath had been stolen and Chippy squeaked piteously.

    The visions came a moment later. A beast struggling hopelessly against the predators that had pulled it down. Ice carried on the wind, stabbing into his face, his mouth, his eyes.

    And then he saw Flore¡¯s eviscerated body, Vlad bleeding out on the cavern floor¡­his father stomping on Siren¡¯s neck.

    He recognized what was happening, forced himself to acknowledge that all those things were true, then shoved them away with both a mental push and a flash of aura.

    When his vision cleared, his blood ran cold.

    Seven draugrs unlike any he had seen before were arrayed before Crimson Spear in a V-formation. Cloth covered their heads and bodies, giving them a hooded look. The edges of their silhouettes frayed reality, defying his attempts to study their appearance. No hands or limbs were visible, but he knew from experience that they were superhumanly strong.

    But their real power was the crushing hopelessness they infected their environment with. An overpowering sense that nothing and no one could stand before them.

    It didn¡¯t feel like seven Wichitan draugrs stood before him. The combined effect of their auras were like that of two dozen draugrs.

    With an involuntary shake of his head, he suppressed the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. At his side, he saw Ben gritting his teeth, an obvious struggle in the flick of his eyes.

    Terry reached out and gripped Ben¡¯s arm. The older man flinched, his gaze cutting toward that grip, then up to Terry¡¯s face. His eyes were lost for another moment, then seemed to clear as he realized who had grabbed him.

    Ben closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath before opening them again. When they did, the normal blue of his irises was replaced with an ice-grey, the magic swirling like a storm.

    The temperature shifted once more, the cold receding with powerful shoves of Ben¡¯s aura.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    On a whim, Terry took an aura snapshot before turning his attention back to the draugrs.

    He suddenly felt the weight of their regard, like jumping into the lion¡¯s den with a haunch of bloody meat in his hands.

    At his side, Juan whimpered quietly, while Chippy squeezed his eyes shut tight. Terry tried to speak, but the air was so cold, so dry, that his voice croaked.

    Forming some saliva to swallow, he tried again.

    ¡°The visions aren¡¯t real, Juan.¡± The man flinched at the sound of his voice and Terry reached out to grip his arm. ¡°It¡¯s not real¡ª¡±

    The flames in Juan¡¯s hands flared bright, the heat washing against Terry¡¯s skin. He took a step back, worried the man would lash out on instinct.

    ¡°Leave them,¡± Ben said behind him. ¡°If it¡¯s a fight, it¡¯ll happen before we can rouse them.¡±

    Terry flicked his eyes toward the draugrs, noting that they were pressing forward, approaching Crimson Spear and a knot of huddled ghouls. Then he looked toward the others, noting Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes wide with undirected fury, Mara-Lin-Jaid clutching her hands together in some sort of prayer, and Py Dar with her head buried in her four hands.

    A sudden sense of deja vu infected him, bringing him back to that moment when he¡¯d first faced the draugr at the gates of Wichita. He¡¯d been so scared, so terrified he wanted to turn and run away faster than he¡¯d ever run. The thing that had stopped him, the thing that had spurred him on so recklessly, was his ghoul entourage being thrown about, killed by the draugr in their efforts to save him.

    That deja vu enraged him, lit a fire inside his chest that burned hotter than the flames cupped in Juan¡¯s hands, burned brighter than the sun itself.

    He didn¡¯t even think as he acted. A portal ripped open across the air high above them. Brilliant white light streamed through, illuminating the cave.

    Another portal cut across space. Then another.

    Six portals opened in as many seconds, flaring so bright in the cave that the others were forced to shield their eyes.

    Terry strode forward, the sunlight buoying his steps, making him feel light as air.

    In the harsh light, the draugrs were no longer the stuff of nightmares. The strange fraying of reality at the edges of their silhouettes seemed to fade in the light. The oppressive weight pushing down on everyone¡¯s shoulders lessened. The sapping energy of the supernatural cold drifted away.

    By the time Terry reached Crimson Spear¡¯s side, the seven draugrs standing before them were no more intimidating than the dire wolves Al¡¯Ruzan had been hunting for years.

    Crimson Spear cast him a surprised look as he joined the ghoul leader, but the flash of aura a moment later was filled with respect.

    Ben stood on his other side and Terry could tell he was helping to keep the cold at bay.

    A moment later, Al¡¯Ruzan joined them, then Juan, Py, and Mara-Lin-Jaid. A quiet squeak brought his attention down, where Chippy was standing at his knee level with an adorable rodent-like scowl.

    The draugrs had lost the element of terror that was their greatest weapon, but they were still physically powerful creatures of the Underworld; they showed no apprehension or concern with the Awakened standing before them, nor the dozens of ghouls who were shaking free from their stupor.

    An icy voice cut through the air, sending a shiver down Terry¡¯s spine.

    ¡°You approach¡­our terr¡­itory.¡±

    Despite the brave stances of Terry and his team, he could feel their hackles rise at that voice. It was closer to the haunting whistle of the wind than actual words.

    But Crimson Spear didn¡¯t falter.

    ¡°We are on a holy mission.¡± Terry squinted, wondering if he¡¯d translated that word, holy, correctly. ¡°For the survival of all denizens of the Underworld, you must let us pass.¡±

    His eyebrows rose and he looked up to try and read the ghoul¡¯s expression. But that slick red skin betrayed none of his thoughts.

    ¡°Ex¡­plain¡­¡±

    Terry double-took between Crimson Spear and the lead draugr, not quite believing the exchange.

    Then, Crimson Spear nodded toward Ben and Terry finally understood.

    ¡°You sure?¡± Ben asked quietly.

    ¡°Show¡­or fight,¡± Crimson Spear replied.

    Terry flipped his gaze back toward the draugrs to see if they¡¯d react to that statement, but they were as stoic as statues.

    Ben furrowed his nose for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. Reaching toward his belt, he undid the tie and held up the Singularity cube.

    ¡°Ben¡­¡± Terry hissed. ¡°The sanguine will know we¡¯re coming.¡±

    He turned toward Terry, his eyes still swirling with blue-grey magic.

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± His voice was solid ice. ¡°Let them know. Let the bastards tremble in their hives. Let them squirm and plot and despair.¡± He reached his other hand up, undoing the cube. The Singularity¡¯s power leaked through. ¡°The entire Underworld will rally behind us and those vampire pests will feel the inexorability of the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s return.¡±

    Brilliant power rushed from his hand, filling the air with possibilities. It was as if a key had slotted into an invisible hole, laying bare the secrets of the universe. Terry¡¯s power suddenly felt unstifled, ready to do anything with but a flicker of intent.

    It seemed to call to him, whispering in his mind. He strained to hear the words, understand the divine message imparted by an unknowable power.

    Then, it was gone, and he wanted to cry.

    He snapped into awareness, spotted the cube tucked back onto Ben¡¯s waist. A sudden urge to reach for the cube disappeared as soon as it came¡ªit was too much power for him to control, let alone contain.

    As for the draugrs, Terry could feel their emotions shift¡ªponderously, like a glacier shifting off a piece of ice back into the ocean. But he could taste its flavor and knew that violence had been averted.

    ¡°We¡­accept¡­¡±

    Before Terry could understand the implications of those words, the draugrs seemed to fuzz in his vision. For the briefest moment, he wondered if he had read the situation wrong and they were about to attack. Then, the subtle fraying at the edges of their silhouettes doubled, and they began to sink into the solid stone.

    His eyes widened as the seven draugrs slowly disappeared from view, completely phased into the rock beneath their feet.

    Terry stared at where they¡¯d been a moment earlier, then glanced up toward Ben.

    ¡°I¡­I didn¡¯t know they could do that.¡±

    He nodded, taking in a deep breath before letting it out.

    ¡°They¡¯re terrifying bastards, that¡¯s for sure. But the die has been cast and they¡¯ve chosen their side.¡±

    ¡°What the hell was that!¡± Juan blurted behind him. ¡°What was that thing in the box!¡±

    Terry saw the confusion in the rest of the team¡¯s eyes and repeated Juan¡¯s question in the Team Chat as he responded out loud.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of the Singularities¡ªthe Metaphysical one, to be precise.¡±

    Judging from Juan¡¯s furrowed brow, he hadn¡¯t heard of them.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Chippy knows this thing. But it shouldn¡¯t be here.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How do you know what this is? As far as I know, all seven¡ªwell, six¡ªare on Earth.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Impossible, Terry. Kapilidonis the Wise has assembled the seven Truths, becoming the Autarch of my world.

    </blockquote>

    Terry furrowed his brow at that.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: It is the same on my planet, though we do not call it that.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: This is why our worlds fight. Our own leader has ascended after gathering the seven Divinities. We did not know of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s people until after the Holy Vessel was formed.

    </blockquote>

    He was floored by the revelation that each of his team members had their own form of the Singularities¡ªand had actually formed their version of the Omega.

    How? Why?

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: The question is, why do you have one, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    His mind was trying to make the connections, draw the dots between what he knew and what he had just learned. But he didn¡¯t have enough information.

    When I see my damn System again, it better have some answers¡­

    The insistent look from Mara-Lin-Jaid and the others pulled him back to the present.

    Before he could craft a reply, Crimson Spear sent out the call to move and Ben spurred them onward. Reluctantly, they all started jogging again, following the ghouls¡¯ lead as they left the cavern.

    As they ran, he wrote out the message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I was given a Quest¡ª

    </blockquote>

    Error. Message cannot be sent.

    He groaned in annoyance.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can¡¯t really say¡­that should tell you something.

    </blockquote>

    He couldn¡¯t read their reactions as they ran through the dark tunnel leading from the cavern, but Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s response seemed to echo the sentiment of the others.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: We understand.

    </blockquote>

    A sense of relief filled him. For a moment, he had worried they might try to force the issue or hold it against him that he was being coy. He released the portals back in the cavern and summoned a new one, letting sunlight stream into the tunnel.

    With the light, he was able to see their faces for a brief moment before they ran past it.

    Juan flashed him a thumbs up. Al¡¯Ruzan nodded once. Chippy squeaked quietly in his arms. Py Dar made some complicated series of hand gestures with her four arms that he nonetheless took as a positive message.

    He felt emboldened by their understanding and crafted another message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t know why, but the six of us have a shared Quest to help the Bloodsplatter Clan return to their home. And our optional Quest references the Lakarot.

    For some reason, my System¡ªand yours, too¡ªhas offered us a reward to return the Lakarot¡ªthe Singularity¡ªto power.

    </blockquote>

    Hesitation gripped him and he faltered for a moment. Chippy squeaked in his arms, a sound of encouragement, he imagined.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t know about the rest of you, but I trust my System. As much of a pain in the ass it is, I trust the damned thing. I intend to complete that optional Quest. Will you help me?

    </blockquote>

    They ran in silence for a few moments and he wondered if he had read the situation wrong. Maybe they couldn¡¯t care less about him or the Singularity. Maybe they just wanted to get home and the optional Quest was just a¡ª

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We stand with you, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    For some reason, those words from Al¡¯Ruzan of all people, filled him with a sense of pride.

 B2 - Chapter 35: Self-Powered Pokey Enhancement

    Something about the exposed Singularity had sparked a need deep inside his chest. The memory of that moment back on Earth when he¡¯d first anchored his teleportation Skill into the Singularity itself pulled at the back of his mind.

    At the time, he¡¯d felt that the only way he¡¯d accomplished the feat had been with the power of the Singularity guiding his hand. But now, his aura yearned to be directed, pushed into an object just as he had done before.

    As they ran, he began to wonder if he couldn¡¯t find a way to anchor his teleportation into an object. And not just anchor it, but allow it to form portals in a way that would give the others escape routes and enhanced mobility in a fight.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Chippy, I want to keep experimenting. Can you help me with this project I had in mind?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Of course, Terry. What two Skills should we merge?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Actually¡­before I came here, I managed to anchor one of my Skills into the Singularity itself. My portal Skill, in fact. I was wondering if we couldn¡¯t do something similar with a mundane item. If we all had the ability to teleport¡­

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Oh, how delicious. But Py is an Artificer. We would be foolish not to seek her expertise.

    </blockquote>

    Terry cursed himself immediately. Of course I should have asked Py!

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Absolutely. Py? What do you think?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I would love to assist, Terry. Can you show me what you had in mind?

    </blockquote>

    It was difficult explaining his ideas, showing the two of them examples, and running through the dark Underworld tunnels with no light but the fire in Juan¡¯s hands.

    But they made do.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What if we were to hold off on the teleportation tokens and instead focus on your new telekinesis Skill? If we pre-programmed the aura in a specific flight path, we could create reliable missiles. Even have them return to the user¡¯s hand¡ªor thereabouts.

    </blockquote>

    He furrowed his brow at the suggestion, trying to envision what she meant. It didn¡¯t make sense to imbue a rock with a return path and the overhead of having to anchor aura into a bunch of rock missiles sounded like a non-starter.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Can you give me an example?

    </blockquote>

    She nodded agreement, moving toward one of the ghouls before suddenly faltering.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Uh, can you translate for me?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Of course.

    </blockquote>

    The ghoul she had approached eyed her with a stoic expression, his spear tucked away in a roll along his back.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Can you ask if we can borrow its spear?

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded and shaped his aura in a friendly greeting. The ghoul returned the gesture and he got a series of images that formed the basis of its name, Weeping Rock.

    ¡°Nice to meet you. Can we use your weapon for a moment? We will return it unharmed.¡±

    Weeping Rock didn¡¯t hesitate, reaching back for his spear.

    ¡°You showed strength against the draugrs,¡± Weeping Rock said. ¡°Perhaps enough to earn a name.¡±

    That surprised him and he faltered as he reached for the offered spear. But before he could press the issue, Weeping Rock ran ahead toward the center of the group.

    Terry returned to Py, who held Chippy in her arms, and swapped the little Savant for Weeping Rock¡¯s spear.

    As they ran, he felt Py¡¯s aura begin to stir. He traced its path through the spear, entranced by the way it seemed to push past the natural aura of the shaft and blade, seeping into the structure with no resistance. He¡¯d never witnessed an Artificer at work and he suddenly realized the incredible opportunity before him.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s your aura doing?

    </blockquote>

    He could feel the structure it was creating, but had difficulty parsing the actual effect.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I have a Skill that can harden objects past their natural limit. I¡¯m imbuing the spear with this enhancement.

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared in fascination, belatedly realizing he could take an Aura Snapshot. He added it to his catalog, eager to study it further at a later time. For now, he needed to study the actual process of¡­imbuing, she had called it.

    It only took a few minutes, but he knew immediately when the process was done¡ªcould feel it in the altered aura of the spear, a sense of solidity that was undeniable.

    Py looked up toward him, the question in her eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I think I understood the process¡­but that felt like a fairly simple enhancement. No offense!

    </blockquote>

    Py snorted¡ªa strangely human gesture on the four-armed alien¡ªand held up two hands.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I am not offended, Terry. That was a simple enhancement. But now that it is sturdier, we may begin experimenting on controlling it through your new telekinesis ability without fear of damaging it.

    </blockquote>

    Oh¡­.that makes sense. He rubbed at the back of his neck, causing Chippy to chirp in alarm as he wobbled in Terry¡¯s other arm. He quickly gripped the Savant with both hands, casting him an apologetic look.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, so the spear is ready to take a beating. It sure would be nice to take a break to properly experiment.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: All great inventions are the product of stress. Time or environment or situation, it matters not.

    </blockquote>

    Her eyes twinkled with an excitement that infected him.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I know we will create something great here.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I appreciate the vote of confidence. Okay, let¡¯s see what we can do.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    </blockquote>

    With a flex of aura, he lifted the spear with his telekinesis, angling it so that it hovered at his side, parallel with the floor. It took practically no effort to keep it apace with him and he turned his attention to studying the shifting aura structure as it moved through the air.

    Chippy¡¯s aura reached out, highlighting sections that had also caught Terry¡¯s eye.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: See the similarities in structure here¡­here and¡­here?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Yeah, I spotted that, too.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked in his arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Ah, you¡¯re getting faster, Terry! You won¡¯t need Chippy anymore!

    </blockquote>

    He chuckled at that, shaking his head.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Please, oh aura master, educate this poor acolyte.

    </blockquote>

    With Chippy¡¯s help, they isolated the spatial mapping of the telekinesis skill¡¯s aura framework. Rather than rely upon the Skill, Terry was able to reliably shift the aura to move the spear through the air¡ªthough with slightly less control than when he leaned upon the handicap of the Skill itself.

    Before they could celebrate, the ghouls in front of them began to slow, the entire procession rippling as aura passed from the front of the group.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Juan asked, his eyes wide.

    Terry hoped it wasn¡¯t another possible fight¡ªthey were so close to leveling up the ghoul warriors with a powerful new weapon.

    But as they slowed to a walk, he was able to see past the ghouls where the tunnel they had been running through opened up into a wide open space. The group slowly filtered out of the tunnel, finding themselves on a large flat perch overlooking a yawning chasm that stretched down and out of sight.

    Across the chasm, flashes of movement in the dark caught his eye and he dialed up Master of Light to enhance his vision.

    He gasped in shock, taking an involuntary step back into Py¡¯s arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What is it, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    Rather than answer, he scanned the crowd for Ben and Crimson Spear, his heart pounding with urgency. He found the two of them near the front of the pack, talking in ghoulish casually.

    ¡°The liminal layer should take another cycle to descend,¡± Crimson Spear said. ¡°The next level will¡ª¡±

    Terry approached in a rush, his aura reaching out to interrupt the conversation.

    ¡°Across the way,¡± he gasped. ¡°There¡¯s hundreds¡ªmaybe more. What do we¡ª¡±

    Ben put his hands on Terry¡¯s shoulders, his eyes as placid as a frozen lake.

    ¡°We know. Take a breath,¡± he said in English. Switching back to ghoulish, he turned to Crimson Spear. ¡°Should we let the draugrs handle it or¡­?¡±

    The ghoul leader turned his gaze to Terry.

    ¡°The sunlight you summoned. How much deeper can we descend before you lose that connection?¡±

    Thrown off by how casually they discussed the swarming sanguine across the chasm, it took him a moment to process the question.

    ¡°One moment, let me check.¡±

    Reaching through space, he tested the distance, gauging it against his ability to project his aura. It wasn¡¯t an exact science, but he had a rough estimate¡ªand it didn¡¯t fill him with confidence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know distance in ghoulish, but not much.¡± He turned to Ben. ¡°Maybe another half mile?¡±

    Ben translated the mile into a measure Crimson Spear could understand, then nodded toward Terry.

    ¡°That should get us past the liminal layer. From there, it¡¯ll be a slog into the deeper layers.¡±

    ¡°We knew this,¡± Crimson Spear said confidently. His eyes cut toward Terry, a weight behind them that was unnerving. ¡°Your portals. How precise are you in their placement?¡±

    Terry waffled his head back and forth.

    ¡°Somewhere I¡¯ve seen before? Very.¡± He bit his lip in thought. ¡°But with no reference point, I have to go by feel¡­¡± He glanced toward Ben, feeling a responsibility to provide the solution weighing down on him. ¡°I can open a portal to get a feel for the other side¡ªeven get a visual¡­¡±

    Crimson Spear nodded, looking toward Ben silently. His uncle stared off in contemplation, leaving Terry wondering what exactly he had missed in the subtext.

    After a moment, Ben turned back to the ghoul.

    ¡°It may be our best chance.¡±

    He seemed to say it begrudgingly, which set off alarm bells in Terry¡¯s head.

    ¡°What may be our best chance?¡± he asked.

    A message came in, surprising him.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: There are ears all around us and voices travel in these open spaces. I¡¯ll fill you in as we run.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°A frontal assault,¡± Ben said, his voice filled with ice. ¡°It¡¯s the only way to break through the layers below.¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Crimson Spear and his people will continue their descent through sanguine territory, drawing their attention.

    </blockquote>

    Terry opened his mouth in protest, but a subtle shake of Ben¡¯s head silenced him.

    ¡°With your sunlight and the strength of the Bloodsplatter Clan, we will break through their defenses.¡± Ben¡¯s eyes widened slightly, the unspoken statement evident in that gaze.

    Still, he needed to hear it from the man¡ªeven if only in System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: And the rest of us?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: You portal us past their defenses. We¡¯ll infiltrate their inner sanctum where the Lakarot was once housed. Once it is restored, whatever happens next is irrelevant.

    </blockquote>

    He stared at Ben, his mind slow to process that last statement. Once he did, he was ashamed at his immediate reaction.

    But that¡¯s not what the Quest says, he nearly said. The Quest is to return the Bloodsplatter Clan to their ancestral home¡­

    Ben seemed to pick up on the conflicting thoughts in his mind, his lips setting in a way that Terry understood. There was a question in that look, a choice being presented that he felt ill-equipped to make.

    His head felt heavy, his shoulders sagging as he considered what Ben was implying.

    Even if we all died, even if the Bloodsplatter Clan was wiped out¡­it didn¡¯t matter. We¡¯d be dying to save the Underworld. We¡¯d be restoring the lifeblood of this world, saving millions of ghouls and sanguine and other undead from the gradual demise they¡¯d been slipping toward.

    We¡¯d be restoring the Blood of the Mother.

    Is an entire world more important than my need to return to Earth?

    He let out a deep breath, nodding once.

    ¡°I understand.¡± His eyes found Crimson Spear, his tone unwavering, brooking no argument. ¡°But first, we¡¯re gonna need to improve your weapons.¡±

    <hr>

    While the ghouls arrayed on the rock platform overlooking the chasm, Terry, Chippy, and Py had continued their work inside the tunnel, free from prying eyes.

    Weeping Rock¡¯s spear was clutched tightly in his hands, aimed down the tunnel away from the others.

    With a flex, he poured aura into the anchor point near the tip of the spear. He sensed the reserve filling and he increased the flow, pushing his aura in until he felt it reach its limit.

    The slightest flick of his aura near what they had dubbed the release valve was all it took. The spear launched from his hand like he¡¯d thrown it with all his D-ranked strength. It rocketed forward, clearing a hundred yards of tunnel in a blink before abruptly stopping. Before he knew it, it was flashing back toward him. He struggled to keep his hand exactly where he had released it, cringing as it whipped across his skin.

    But when the dust settled, the spear was balanced across his open palm, only his chafed palm indicative of the sheer velocity with which the spear had returned to its starting point.

    He found himself staring at the spear in disbelief, waiting for an irrational moment to see if it would suddenly go rogue and shoot off again or whip around into his face.

    Behind him¡ªand behind Al¡¯Ruzan, who served as their body shield from prying eyes¡ªChippy and Py Dar cheered quietly. Py clapped her four hands in an unusual rhythm, while Chippy squeaked and chirped as he jumped up and down around the tunnel.

    Terry finally realized that the experiment had worked¡ªthey¡¯d created a flying spear with a boomerang mechanic. It was dangerous and the thrower needed to be meticulous in their positioning to not be smacked by the returning spear.

    But it had worked!

    Not only had it worked, but Chippy and Py had found that they could replicate the manufacturing of the enhancement themselves. With Chippy¡¯s superior aura awareness and control, and Py¡¯s ability to imbue enhancements into items, they were the perfect duo to mass produce a few dozen flying spears.

    The only disappointment to Terry was that he hadn¡¯t learned a new Skill with the discovery. He¡¯d gotten used to the System rewarding him with dopamine hits whenever he discovered something new and he was feeling its lack now.

    But he shoved that disappointment away easily enough¡ªthe ghoulish army now had a powerful new weapon in their fight against the sanguine.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: What should we name it, since the System hasn¡¯t taken the honor? Chippy was thinking: Self-Powered Pokey Enhancement.

    </blockquote>

    Terry turned and frowned down at Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Pokey¡­?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: That¡¯s not what I typed! The System mistranslated!

    </blockquote>

    Terry and Py shared a skeptical look¡ªwhich Chippy couldn¡¯t miss, despite his low vantage.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Chippy swears! I meant it to say Pokey¡ªyou know, nevermind¡­

    </blockquote>

    He chuckled, shaking his head.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Let¡¯s focus. We need to imbue a hundred of these things and I still want to work on the token idea.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Agreed, Terry. The manufacturing of these enhancements might very well stretch our capabilities¡ªespecially with the time constraints.

    </blockquote>

    He turned his attention to the piece of circular bone in his hand. When he¡¯d asked Crimson Spear for something small, yet durable, he¡¯d procured the coin-shaped bone, suggesting that there were many more where that came from.

    Unlike the spear enhancement, his next idea was not offensive oriented but purely a life-saving measure. He understood from conversations with Ben that the ghouls didn¡¯t expect to live through the next few days, but that wasn¡¯t good enough for Terry.

    He¡¯d never forgive himself if he didn¡¯t at least try to give them the best possible chance of surviving.

    Now that he¡¯d worked extensively on the imbuing process with Chippy and Py, he felt like his understanding had blossomed.

    There were three components necessary for creating an Artifact¡ªeven one as bootleg and janky as what they were creating.

    The first component was the space for an aura reservoir¡ªa refillable battery basically. That was necessary to inject the power needed for whatever the enhancement was meant to accomplish. The power requirements were proportional to the difficulty of the task¡ªthough the physical size of the reserve bore no relation on the power output; rather, the maximum output was governed by the density of the user¡¯s aura. Thankfully for the ghouls, their constant use of aura in day-to-day communications made their aura naturally dense.

    The second component was the aura framework of the Skill itself. For the Self-Powered Pokey Enhancement, Terry had imbued his Telekinesis Skill into the spear. This was a relatively straightforward process that required him to take the ambient aura of the object and tie it off from the rest of the item. Then he could rework that small section into the appropriate configuration. At first, he had worried that changing the fundamental structure of the object¡¯s aura would somehow damage the item. But Py had assured him that changing an item¡¯s aura structure was a fundamental aspect of Artificing, and would not adversely impact the item itself unless the entire aura structure was unraveled.

    The final component was both simple in concept but complex in practice. He needed to program the Skill in response to the influx of power. This was simple in concept because telling the spear to move forward one hundred feet at max velocity should have been as simple as putting in coordinates.

    In practice, isolating the coordinate components of the Skill and then programming the action into the set of instructions based on relative position was quite the challenge.

    It was only with Chippy¡¯s expertise that they were able to pinpoint the necessary changes they needed to make to incorporate the instructions.

    What Terry had in mind for the bone charm was also both incredibly simple in concept, yet complex in practice.

    But if he did it right, then the Bloodsplatter Clan had no need to martyr themselves to buy them time.

    He only had a few minutes, but as he stared down at the bone and began to work its aura, he felt a certainty electrify his being.

    This is gonna work. It has to.

 B2 - Chapter 36: Stowaway

    Terry placed the bone charm into Crimson Spear¡¯s hand, forcing steel into his eyes as he stared at the ghoul.

    ¡°If it looks like all is lost, use it.¡±

    The giant ghoul elder stared down at the charm, his face unreadable. Terry placed his hand over the ghoul¡¯s, willing him to look up.

    ¡°All my life, I was surrounded by your people. My closest friend is a ghoul.¡± He felt the surprise radiate through Crimson Spear¡¯s aura and nodded. ¡°I know your people better than you might think. And I know the sense of duty is your guiding principle.¡± He tapped on the charm. ¡°But surviving to shepherd your people into the next cycle of this world is your duty as well. Don¡¯t throw away your life if you don¡¯t have to.¡±

    The ghoul¡¯s face remained stoic, but he felt the consideration in Crimson Spear¡¯s aura and pressed the advantage.

    ¡°The Bloodsplatter Clan need not die today.¡±

    Before the ghoul could respond, Py¡ªwith Chippy in her arms¡ªjogged over.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: We¡¯re done!

    </blockquote>

    He nodded, turning back to Crimson Spear. But the ghoul had recognized the need to move and was off. As Terry surveyed the ghoul clan, he could feel Py and Chippy¡¯s handiwork resonating through the dozens of spears held with borderline reverence in the ghouls¡¯ hands.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Great job, both of you!

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked happily.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: And you, Terry? Were you able to finish your project without the superlative assistance of Chippy?

    </blockquote>

    Terry laughed at that.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It was a near thing. Your help was sorely missed.

    </blockquote>

    Ben came over, the grim set to his lips dampening the mood.

    ¡°You ready?¡±

    It was a simple question, one he might have interpreted as referring only to them preparing to continue through the liminal layer. But he knew from the man¡¯s tone that the question was as layered as the Underworld.

    He wiped the smile from his face, matching his uncle¡¯s taciturn expression.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Ben seemed to study Terry¡¯s face, perhaps looking for cracks in his composure. But Terry was no stranger to responsibility or risking his life. He met his uncle¡¯s eyes, feeling his own golden magic begin to swirl through his irises.

    After a moment, Ben seemed to find what he had been looking for. He nodded and the group took off together as a pulse of aura extended from Crimson Spear.

    Terry took Chippy from Py¡¯s arms and followed the ghoul procession down the rock ramp that looped along the chasm wall, taking them deeper through the liminal layer where they¡¯d reach the bottom. Past that, the next layer of the Underworld awaited.

    He purposefully kept his eyes off the surrounding chasm wall, not needing¡ªor wanting¡ªto see the thousands of sanguine that shadowed them through the liminal layer.

    Put your head down and move your feet, Terry.

    As Crimson Spear had mentioned, the chasm was only about a half mile from top to bottom. But that was as the rock fell. Taking the wrapping loop that hugged the outer wall greatly extended the journey, turning a half-mile descent into a multi-mile run into the depths of darkness.

    He kept his attention on his foot placement and his aura stretching high into the sky. There was something comforting about that connection to the Surface, some reminder that the overwhelming weight of stone both above their heads and beneath their feet was not the extent of this world. Up there was sunlight. Up there was open air.

    And soon, very soon, he¡¯d see it again.

    That connection was his lifeline, the driftwood he clutched to in the empty sea of darkness. He almost wasn¡¯t prepared when Crimson Spear gave the signal.

    As discrete aura shapes approached through the open air of the chasm on outstretched wings, a pulse of power rippled throughout the ghoulish party.

    He started in mid-stride, completing that connective thread with a sluggish thought. A series of portals began chaining across the chasm air, starting from the top and working down in sequence.

    And with it, came the brilliant sunlight of the Surface, piercing the inky black like an angel¡¯s descent.

    All around them, shrieks of terrible pain crescendoed, stabbing into his ears so painfully he was forced to drop Chippy just to cover them.

    In his initial flinch, he had slammed shut his eyes. But logic overrode instinct and he peeled his eyelids back, taking in the sight that accompanied that horrific sound.

    Thousands of swirling bodies plummeted through the air, their gliding flight cut short by the sunlight sapping their strength and burning their flesh. One flying sanguine darted toward them in a futile last act, its flesh blackening before his very eyes.

    When it ultimately collapsed into the rock wall above their heads, a rain of ash drifted down toward them, coating their heads and shoulders in grey-black soot.

    But not all the sanguine burned. He spotted dozens of fliers continuing their gliding descent, the sun having no hold over their flesh.

    This was not unexpected.

    Sanguine elite, bathed in the Blood of the Mother over and over again, their skin hardened against both silver and sunlight. As they arced toward the fleeing ghouls, a command echoed out from Crimson Spear.

    As one, the ghouls with their newly-enhanced spears turned and faced the diving onslaught, angling their weapons to meet them. Flashes of aura lit up across the ghouls, overwhelming his senses as the ambient currents were disturbed.

    With a pulse from Crimson Spear, the ghouls activated their new enhancements, and a wave of spears shot toward the sanguine. Where bone and metal met flesh, flesh was eviscerated. The dying shrieks of the scorched vampires were replaced with the new cries of their elite brethren as they were pin-cushioned by a wall of flying spears.

    Terry watched in both morbid and academic curiosity as the spears impaled the sanguine and continued past to their designated flight distance, then suddenly averted their momentum and raced back toward their owners.

    It was a devastating volley that culminated in the elite wave of sanguine drifting to the chasm floor, dead or dying, and the ghouls clutching their returned spears with obvious reverence.

    In the aftermath, the fading shrieks of the falling elites and the soot marks marring the chasm walls were all the evidence that remained of the thousand strong ambush that had begun less than a minute earlier.

    A moment passed, stretched into two, then three. When the silence broke, it was Chippy chirping in triumph at Terry¡¯s feet. Py joined in a moment later, her four hands clapping together. A wave of disbelief seemed to wash over the ghouls, tamped down by a pulse of aura from Crimson Spear.

    ¡°Move!¡± he called out to Ben and Terry, echoing the command with his aura.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: We gotta move.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy leaped into Py¡¯s arms and they raced to follow the ghouls as they continued their descent to the next layer.

    Brilliant sunlight still streamed down upon them, but struggled to illuminate the very bottom of the chasm. In the dim light, Terry could see the outline of the sanguine elite, their bodies dashed to the chasm floor.

    He could leave the portals open as they moved to the next layer¡ªit would ensure they weren¡¯t ambushed from above as they continued their descent. But he knew from Crimson Spear that the sanguine¡¯s strength was in their practically limitless numbers. They proliferated rapidly by undead standards and decades with unfettered access to the Blood of the Mother had only accelerated that growth rate.

    Crimson Spear hadn¡¯t talked hard numbers, but Terry got the impression that there were only a handful of nearby ghoul clans, probably numbering in the low thousands if the Bloodsplatter Clan was anything to go by.

    The sanguine would have millions standing between them and the wellspring of the Blood. Too many to punch through with sheer strength¡ªenhanced spears or not.

    Which was why they had come up with their next part of the plan.

    When they finally reached the bottom of the liminal layer, the air noticeably chilled, causing him to shiver. For a moment, he thought that the Underworld would continuously drop in temperature and he would need to utilize Master of Light to maintain his body temp.

    Then he saw the draugr drifting across the bottom of the chasm, dispatching the injured sanguine elite with casual strength.

    The cold was because of them.

    Another shiver traced up his back¡ªnot due to the cold.

    He pushed them from his mind, wrapping his team in Master of Light to keep their heat contained. Stopping beside Crimson Spear and Ben, he felt his stomach twist at the thought of what came next.

    ¡°I shall pass to you the path I traveled when we were first exiled. It is not the fastest, nor the safest. But it is the only one I have personally witnessed that connects to the Mother.¡±

    Terry nodded, steeling his mind. This was the part that had been his idea and yet¡­he dreaded splitting the group. Though he knew that his Quest indicated the team would be stronger together, he couldn¡¯t in right mind ask Chippy, Py, Juan, or Mara-Lin-Jaid to join them on what could very likely be a suicide mission. Their strengths weren¡¯t in combat and they¡¯d be better positioned where the Bloodsplatter Clan could defend them.

    He touched Crimson Spear¡¯s outstretched hand, feeling the ghoul elder¡¯s powerful aura interacting with his own. They began to intermingle, like the greeting shape but even more intimate. He opened his own aura, letting the memories flash across his mind like a collage.

    The Underworld stretched before his eyes, seven layers driven deep into the world¡¯s crust. His perspective shifted, showing him the final layer where the Blood of the Mother oozed from dozens of fonts. All the great powers of the Underworld once shared those fonts, as the Blood was plentiful and essential to the undead castes.

    He saw those fonts dry up, turning into the barest trickles, and then, even less. Skirmishes turned to wars as the limited resource began to cap the birthrate of the various undead.

    Crimson Spear appeared in his mind, forced to abandon the Lakarot¡¯s vessel as sanguine and ghoul alike converged on the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s home. Shame and anger burned inside Terry as his elder bade him to flee to the Surface with what little of their clan he could save.

    Righteous fury gave way to soul-encompassing embarrassment. He was forced to flee as their defenses crumbled, taking only ten sarcophagi of the Blood with them as they climbed the layers.

    As they rose from the seventh to the sixth layer, they lost half of their stash¡ªand dozens of ghoul lives. The climb to the fifth heralded another sarcophagus lost. And another in the fight to the fourth.

    By the time they reached the Surface, they possessed only two sarcophagi of the Blood and their numbers had been whittled down to less than two hundred ghouls and five liches.

    Terry felt the weight of this responsibility as if it were his own. A shame burned inside his chest, threatening to suffocate him.

    But then, the visions twisted, showing Ben arriving with meat when they needed it most. Years passed and the clan settled into a routine of attrition. Crimson Spear never lost hope¡ªnot entirely¡ªbut he had let himself become complacent.

    He had only realized it after the Lakarot had found its way into Ben¡¯s hands. Terry could feel the fervor in that single moment, the unassailable surety that the Mother had orchestrated another chance.

    And chosen Crimson Spear to facilitate its return.

    In every sense of the word, the ghoul elder was ready to martyr himself for even the chance of returning what was stolen. It wasn¡¯t about his legacy or restoring the Bloodsplatter Clan to its glory days.

    It was the very survival of the undead at stake.

    The wash of emotions began to fade as Crimson Spear pulled his aura back, but a kernel of that shame and righteous purpose remained, infecting Terry with a need almost as powerful as the ghoul elder¡¯s to return the Lakarot to its rightful home.

    When they separated, he locked eyes with Crimson Spear. No words were needed¡ªthe ghoul had already shared his deepest and truest self. All Terry could do was nod his understanding.

    Crimson Spear turned away without another word and Terry felt a flush of pride at the trust that imparted. Ben had felt the exchange, though Terry doubted he¡¯d witnessed the raw emotion. All the same, he understood that it was time to move.

    As the ghouls prepared to descend into the next layer the hard way, Terry felt along that path he had witnessed in Crimson Spear¡¯s mind. The layers were deep, many miles in sharp contrast to the liminal layers which were roughly half a mile.

    Though he would have preferred to simply bypass the layers entirely and teleport right where they needed to be, the strain coupled with the fact that he¡¯d only see the locations in Crimson Spear¡¯s aura, made that impossible.

    He reached through space now, tracing that path in his mind, reaching for the next layer down. There was a spot in the ghoul¡¯s memory¡ªa small alcove branching from the main path that had been obscured by a sheet of rock stretching across its entrance.

    He stretched his aura, going more on instinct¡ªCrimson Spear¡¯s instinct, really¡ªand felt like he found that particular alcove at the end of his range. With a flex of aura, he bridged space, a blue-white portal cutting through the air before him.

    Rather than step through immediately, he sent his aura through, getting a sense for the space beyond. He felt around, gauging the space, and was confident he hadn¡¯t inadvertently opened a portal into solid rock or over a yawning chasm. He turned to Ben, who had a questioning look in his eyes, and nodded.

    Ben stepped through without hesitation, sending a message a moment later signaling the all clear.

    Terry moved to follow when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to look up into Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I will follow. You may need my blade.

    </blockquote>

    He smiled, not willing to admit he was happy to have the Duelist with them. With a nod, he indicated the portal and Al¡¯Ruzan stepped through.

    To the side, Juan, Chippy, and Py looked over in surprise¡ªand possibly a bit of hurt.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You guys will be safe with the ghouls. They promised to protect you. And I¡¯m sure the two of you can work some additional spear upgrades while I¡¯m gone.

    </blockquote>

    He tried to smile but it felt flat on his face. Chippy and Py gave each other a look he couldn¡¯t read, but seemed like they wouldn¡¯t argue.

    Juan, however, stepped forward.

    ¡°Terry, bro, let me come with you. I can fight!¡±

    Terry sighed, stepping toward the man.

    ¡°I know you can Juan.¡± He nodded toward the flame cupped in Juan¡¯s hands. ¡°The Bloodsplatter Clan will need you.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°Chippy and Py will need you. The ghouls won¡¯t understand that the two of them can¡¯t fight. Someone will have to watch their back¡­¡±

    He could see Juan¡¯s resolve to follow him wavering. The man glanced back toward Chippy and Py, biting his lip in thought. When he turned back, he gave a short nod.

    Terry slapped a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°And as big as a pain in the ass she is, Mara-Lin-Jaid will need you¡ª¡±

    He cut off as the woman in question strode toward the portal in his peripheral vision. He whirled around to call her name, but before he could react, she was through, the portal tugging on his aura in response.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± he hissed.

    He rushed forward, stepping through his portal¡ªclosing it for good measure in case Juan got any silly ideas.

    The cave on the other side was a tight fit, the four of them pressed shoulder to shoulder in the dark.

    ¡°Mara, what the hell do you think you¡¯re doing!¡±

    A moment later, he realized she didn¡¯t speak English and sent her a System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Mara, what are you doing!

    </blockquote>

    She didn¡¯t immediately reply, so he cast Master of Light to brighten the dark enough to see her.

    Her eyes were closed, a placid expression on her face. He reached out and gripped her shoulder. She snapped her eyes open, the calm immediately replaced with an annoyed scowl.

    ¡°Mara!¡± he started, then growled as he realized he¡¯d done it again.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m sending you back right now.

    </blockquote>

    Her voice cut across the silent cave, shocking him still.

    ¡°Mara-Lin-Jaid.¡±

    His brain was slow to realize she¡¯d said it out loud. The shock of her words struck him dumb for a moment, but when his thoughts caught up, he couldn¡¯t help but notice her accent was exotic, a different emphasis put on the syllables of her name than he might have thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: If you must abbreviate my name, it would be Jaid. Mara is my mother.

    </blockquote>

    The System message snapped him back into awareness of the moment.

    ¡°Okay, Mara-Lin-Jaid.¡± He tried and failed to keep the annoyed sarcasm from his voice.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯ll ask again. What do you think you¡¯re doing?

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Terry,¡± Ben¡¯s voice cut through the tight cave. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this. Crimson Spear and his people are buying us a distraction with their lives.¡±

    ¡°One second,¡± he replied, turning to stare into Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. Without blinking, he opened another portal back to where they had come from.

    She flicked her gaze toward it dismissively.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I¡¯m staying.

    </blockquote>

    He growled, waving toward her in annoyance.

    ¡°She won¡¯t go.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Ben said. ¡°Let her come. If she slows us down, that¡¯s on her.¡±

    Terry wrinkled his nose at the casual statement but couldn¡¯t find any other way that didn¡¯t involve forcing her through the portal like a child.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I saw this, Terry. I¡¯m supposed to be here.

    </blockquote>

    He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Her visions seemed awfully convenient when it came to getting her way.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, but I can¡¯t promise your safety. And if you slow us down, we¡¯ll be forced to leave you.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I understand.

    </blockquote>

    He shrugged, turning toward Ben.

    ¡°I guess she¡¯s staying. I¡¯m gonna start reaching for the next waypoint.¡±

    Ben nodded, his eyes searching the cave, his aura tracing the gap that led outside the alcove.

    Terry pushed Mara-Lin-Jaid from his mind and began stretching his aura deeper into the Underworld, searching for that next stop he¡¯d seen in Crimson Spear¡¯s aura.

 B2 - Chapter 37: Bedside Manner

    Juan Carlos imagined his abuela¡¯s disapproving glare, the wrinkles contracting on her forehead and around her eyes.

    ¡°Juan Carlos! I expressly forbade you from risking your life! If I could, I¡¯d rip that blasphemous magic from your very hands.¡±

    He¡¯d always nodded his head, a respectful ¡®Si, abuela¡¯ almost a mantra to him by the time he was ten.

    But now, as he ran beside Py Dar behind a troop of undead soldiers, charging the vampire blockade before them, he couldn¡¯t help but scream his defiance. He couldn¡¯t tell if he was defying the vamps trying to kill them or his abuela. All he knew was, on the verge of death, he had never felt so alive.

    Flames flickered in his hands and he activated his Stoke Skill, flaring them as bright as a campfire. As the front line of ghouls crashed into the bone constructs the sanguine had erected, he tossed four fireballs over their heads in quick succession.

    He had discovered after the first blockade that the bone material they used in their structures was especially susceptible to fire and the big ghoul had instructed him with a gesture to give it his all.

    At least, he thought that was what the ghoul leader was saying. They¡¯d only realized after Terry and Ben left that none of them understood the ghouls. But it didn¡¯t take a genius to recognize that vampires were bad and ghouls were good.

    Feeling like he¡¯d been given the green light, he finally leaned into the powers he had been deprived of for months before Terry¡¯s arrival. He¡¯d always loved fire¡ªwould stare into the campfires his family lit nearly every night during the fall and spring months. When he¡¯d gotten older, he¡¯d even stolen a lighter from his abuela and lulled himself to sleep by lighting it over and over again under his covers.

    That had ended disastrously and the campfires had stopped for a time.

    Once he Awakened though, they couldn¡¯t stop him. Fire became his constant companion. He¡¯d worked so hard on improving his skill that by the time he was E-ranked, he could maintain a fire in a jar inside his school backpack. He¡¯d learned to keep it smoldering in low oxygen environments, a constant companion during a time when he felt so alone.

    When he¡¯d been summoned and had no access to fire, he¡¯d spiraled into a state of depression. There were times when he considered simply walking out into the blizzard and ending it once and for all.

    Only the thought of how his abuela would react when he never returned kept him going, day in and day out.

    And now¡­now he had reunited with the flame. For the first time in his life, he was given free rein¡ªnot only to possess the flame but to unleash it.

    As his fireballs crashed against the hastily constructed bone ramparts, he angled the fire to splash up and around, licking at the dry sanguine skin. He could feel the fire catch, the screams of the vampires cutting across the distance, stabbing into his ears.

    It didn¡¯t matter; they had attacked first. They prevented Juan and the ghouls from their goal.

    They are standing between me and my return home.

    He was going to burn them all.

    The flames answered his call, dancing from sanguine to sanguine, searing a path through the resistance with ease.

    When the ghouls crashed against the bulwark, the vampires were already in disarray, the bone constructions visibly weakened from the fire. There were no ghoul casualties as Juan, Py, and Chippy raced through the gap, hot on the heels of the Bloodsplatter Clan.

    Spears stabbed into those still alive and Juan collected his flames with a flex of aura. The fuel of their flesh kept the fire healthy, vibrant, ready to launch at whoever got in their way.

    In the distance, he spotted more sanguine rushing to form a defense at another chokepoint created by the natural formation of stone.

    He pulled his fire in tight, a terrified, excited grin stretching across his face.

    For the first time in his life, he felt powerful.

    <hr>

    The four of them portaled to the next layer¡¯s waypoint without incident. They found themselves on a jutting column of rock that was surrounded by darkness on all sides.

    Terry immediately began reaching for the next layer, extending his aura through the rock along the path imparted by Crimson Spear.

    Unlike when he had been to a location before, he had to stretch his senses by feel. Striking straight down wasn¡¯t enough, since the next waypoint was off center of their current location. But the aura visions from the ghoul elder weren¡¯t like the coordinates of a map; they were more sensations and feelings than hard directions.

    Still, he knew he¡¯d find the correct spot eventually. It was just a matter of searching until something pinged in his senses that reminded him of that familiar point.

    With his attention fully on his aura, he hadn¡¯t realized that Mara-Lin-Jaid was breathing heavily, great heaving gasps that echoed in the empty dark. He flicked his eyes toward her, wondering if he was hearing the beginnings of a panic attack.

    That was when he noticed Ben swirling his aura in a way that could only be preparation for an attack. Al¡¯Ruzan held a spear he¡¯d been given by one of the ghouls after his defense of their spawnling, his eyes ranging not out, but up.

    He paused his search, looking up to see what had them concerned. With his attention diverted, he finally heard the sound that had only been a soft susurration in the back of his mind.

    The sound of thousands of wings flapping filled the air above them.

    ¡°Hurry up,¡± Ben hissed.

    Terry turned back to his task with a start, diving into the search for the next layer¡¯s waypoint with a sudden urgency.

    It was difficult to lend his entire focus to the job when it seemed now that all he could hear were those wings. An irrational belief that they would suddenly dive and dig claws or teeth into his back kept pulling his attention away.

    Focus, Terry¡­focus.

    He took a deep breath, holding it in for a four count, before slowly exhaling it for another four count. As he took in another, the air around them chilled.

    Ben¡¯s aura swirled like a hurricane, frozen air turning into a storm of icicles that spun about them. It was like they were the eye of a localized blizzard on their jutting column of stone.

    Secure in the knowledge that Ben was working their defense, he let himself sink into the task, picking up his aura from where he¡¯d left off.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid sent out a message to Al¡¯Ruzan and said something alien out loud to Ben, but Terry didn¡¯t let it divert his attention.

    His aura swept across the next layer, finding plenty of pockets of space that he was fairly certain were open air. But none of them triggered that memory passed along by Crimson Spear.

    In the back of his mind, he felt more than saw, a wave of bat-like creatures crash into Ben¡¯s ice storm. They were as large as dogs, but more animal than the sanguine that had attacked them in the chasm earlier.

    Though the storm slowed many, dicing them with crystalline ice, a few thuds sounded around him, signaling that some had also pierced the veil and were in range. In his peripherals, he saw Al¡¯Ruzan stab forward with lightning speed, piercing heads and launching the dead bodies over the edge in a single movement.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    His aura ranged wider, passing over a space that gave him a sense of deja vu. It was a strange sensation, since the sensory inputs of his aura were vastly different than Crimson Spear¡¯s decades old physical memory of this layer. But after a moment to verify, he was certain he¡¯d found their next waypoint.

    ¡°I got it!¡± he cried out, reaching through space to open a portal.

    Ben simply grunted as he launched an icicle through the air, spearing one of the bat creatures through the wing. As it plummeted out of sight, his aura intensified, the swirling storm pushing out with greater vigor.

    The portal whooshed into existence a moment later and Terry called out to Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    ¡°Go!¡±

    They didn¡¯t need to speak English to understand the command. Al¡¯Ruzan gripped her hand and jumped through the portal. The tug on his aura made him flinch.

    That much mass across his maximal distance was more draining than he had expected.

    If only Jaid had listened and stayed back¡­

    Ben glanced over, waving for him to go first before launching another icicle that intercepted a diving bat creature.

    Terry didn¡¯t need to be told twice and leaped through. Turning back, he watched for the moment Ben would arrive, prepared to cut off the portal as quick as possible.

    When the man leaped through, it was with one of the creatures latched onto his back. Terry gasped in surprise, cutting off the portal.

    Ben didn¡¯t panic at the attached creature, instead reaching up calmly with one hand and ripping it free. It squirmed and shrieked in his grip, until he grabbed its neck and twisted it violently.

    The earsplitting cry cut off instantly.

    With the portal gone, there was no light to illuminate their surroundings. Terry used Master of Light to brighten his own vision, then immediately gasped.

    Two red eyes peered back at them from the other side of the cave. It moved forward, bringing the rest of its body into stark relief.

    At first, his brain refused to process the creature. It seemed to defy his understanding of what biology was capable of. Mismatched limbs carried it forward, a long, lumpy tail trailing behind. Its jaw appeared to be made up of two different creatures, the top half long and pointy, while the lower half was wide with large tusks arcing out.

    He realized that it was like the patches back in Wichita. But instead of human, ghoul, and other parts, it was an amalgam of Underworld creatures.

    Once the moment of surprise faded, he felt his breath catch and he lifted his hand to draw the others¡¯ attention.

    ¡°Uh, Ben¡­¡±

    His uncle turned to follow Terry¡¯s finger and the creature took that moment to pounce. As it lunged toward Ben, the man reached his hands up on instinct and grasped its mismatched jaws. The weight of its leap sent the two of them rolling, but Ben came out on top, his hands turning blue-white as ice began to coat them.

    Two cinderblock-sized ice gauntlets rained down on the creature, causing it to scurry away with a hiss. At first glance, it seemed like it had nowhere to go. But as it reached the far wall, it scaled the rock, perching high up like a sunbathing lizard.

    ¡°Go!¡± Ben hissed.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Go!

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid got the message, turning to the only exit from the creature¡¯s lair. It was a narrow slit in the surrounding rock, just wide enough for the creature to slide through.

    Terry followed behind them, not willing to abandon Ben to the creature.

    He watched as it leaped from the wall, moving incredibly fast for its size. Ben met it with a colossal ice-encased hand, smashing its face to the side as it just missed colliding with him.

    ¡°Come on, Ben!¡± Terry cried, his voice echoing through the cave.

    Ben raced to the crack, but instead of slipping through behind Terry, he turned and stirred his aura.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    But as soon as the words left his mouth, the wall of sleet formed in the chokepoint, closing off the creature¡¯s access.

    Even through the forming blue-white wall, Terry could see the thing stumbling to its feet. The ice was forming at a supernatural pace, but it was obvious it wasn¡¯t thick enough to hold under the charging weight of the huge beast.

    Terry reached for his own aura, his senses forming a connection with space nearby. As the creature spotted them through the thin ice wall, he prepared to form a bridge through that space.

    Ben pushed more aura into forming the ice, but seemed to realize at the last minute that it wouldn¡¯t be enough. He abandoned his magic and anchored his feet, bracing for impact.

    As the creature leaped through the air, a portal cut across space directly in its path. He felt the impact of its bulk pull at his aura, then resist. With a start, he realized that it was only partially inside his portal, its back legs and tail visibly struggling outside of the blue-white oval.

    More and more aura was pulled from his reserves and he could feel it struggling, resisting the portal with its considerable aura and physical power.

    ¡°Shut it!¡± Ben barked.

    Terry went to sever the connection and in turn sever the creature in half. But as he tried to pull his aura away, the beast somehow kept it open, its sheer presence blocking the portal from snapping shut.

    In all the time he¡¯d been using portals, he¡¯d never felt someone keep it open against his will. Then again, he¡¯d never had someone stuck half-in-half-out before.

    He pushed more aura into the construct, willing it to slam shut on the wiggling creature. Its struggling intensified and he saw it slowly pushing its way back out of the oval with its hind legs.

    More aura rushed in as he gritted his teeth.

    This is my portal. I¡¯m its master, not you!

    He thought of Marlon, the sheer finesse coupled perfectly with the raw arrogance. That was a piece of the man¡¯s personality, he realized; a part of the mastery was the arrogance. The unalienable belief that you were the master of space, not whoever passed through it.

    He pushed harder, feeling the portal tightening, the framework collapsing. His mind flashed to his fight with Al¡¯Ruzan, that micro portal snipping across one of his digits.

    This wasn¡¯t any different than that in concept, only in scale.

    More aura rushed in and the edges of the creature began to part, the oval cutting into its flesh.

    He couldn¡¯t hear its cries of pain, but he could imagine them as its kicking became desperate. As the last of his aura poured into the portal, he took a step forward, willing it to shut once and for all.

    The blue-white oval snapped closed, bisecting the creature like a headman¡¯s axe. Its lower half flopped to the floor, still kicking as intestines and blood oozed out.

    Silence reigned in the dark, except for Terry¡¯s heaving breaths and the still-scrabbling claws on the stone ground. A hand touched his shoulder, making him flinch. Before he knew it, he was reaching for his aura, readying a portal to slice through the new assailant.

    His eyes snapped to Ben¡¯s face and he pulled back the attack in surprise.

    ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± the man said softly. ¡°Well done.¡±

    The aura drain suddenly pulled at him, sapping his limbs of strength. He found a nearby wall and sagged against it.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m spent.¡± He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but slamming the portal shut on the creature had taken most of his aura. ¡°I need to recharge before I can send us to the next layer.¡±

    Even in the dark, he could see Ben¡¯s nod.

    ¡°Take your time, Terry.¡±

    The man turned toward Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Al¡¯Ruzan, can you scout the surrounding tunnels? We don¡¯t want to be caught by surprise while Terry recoups.

    </blockquote>

    Terry half expected the Duelist to buck against being ordered, but instead, Al¡¯Ruzan inclined his head, then took off into the dark.

    Beside where he had been standing, Mara-Lin-Jaid stared toward Terry with arms crossed.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: That was foolish. You should have let the A-ranker take care of the beast. Now we will lose precious time waiting for you.

    </blockquote>

    The vitriol in that statement imbued him with a fury he wouldn¡¯t have thought he had the energy for.

    ¡°Foolish!¡± he demanded. ¡°Foolish? What about you, huh? Didn¡¯t see that one coming, did ya?¡± He scoffed, turning away. ¡°The dead weight has the gall to call me foolish.¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Whatever recriminations you have for me, it doesn¡¯t make my words any less true.

    </blockquote>

    She waved a hand toward Ben.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: He was never in any danger. In that chokepoint, with his powers and physical attributes, it would have been a quick fight.

    </blockquote>

    Taking a step toward him, her eyebrows rose.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Instead, you burned through all your power and we are forced to wait here while you recover. Perhaps those precious minutes are the difference between our friends surviving or falling to the sanguine?

    </blockquote>

    Anger fueled a renewal of energy and he burst to his feet so that they were face-to-face. Caustic words lingered on his tongue, then died out.

    With a sigh, he closed his eyes.

    He felt Ben approach, the calming weight of his hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Her bedside manner¡¯s atrocious.¡± He paused. ¡°But she¡¯s right. I would have beaten that thing eventually.¡±

    Terry felt something loosen inside of him, some hold on his chest that he hadn¡¯t realized was there until just this moment.

    ¡°I know she¡¯s right,¡± he said to Ben.

    With a shake of his head, he crafted the message that made his nose furrow.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, you¡¯re right. I see it now.

    </blockquote>

    She nodded so matter-of-factly that he felt his annoyance flare. As she turned, he gripped her arm.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: But here¡¯s something I was right about: you¡¯re dead weight on this mission.

    </blockquote>

    Her eyes trailed down to his grip, then up to his eyes. Perhaps she thought that stern look might have deterred him some other time. But she¡¯d given him the hard truth, so he¡¯d dish it right back at her.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So far, you haven¡¯t given us one useful insight. Everything I¡¯ve ever heard you say hasn¡¯t been until after it would have been relevant. On top of that, you can¡¯t defend yourself like Al¡¯Ruzan or I can, meaning we have to actively protect you when we should be going on the offensive.

    </blockquote>

    He released her arm, shaking his head.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: As far as I can tell, your visions are as useful as flipping a coin. I mean, come on, giant Frankenstein monster didn¡¯t come up at any point?

    </blockquote>

    Her steely gaze stared back into his eyes, not a flicker of doubt to be seen. She turned and approached the nearest wall, resting her back against it and sliding to her heels.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Time will tell.

    </blockquote>

    She closed her eyes, leaning her head back.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Wake me when we¡¯re ready to move.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 38: Lightbringer

    It took an agonizing twenty or so minutes before Terry¡¯s aura recovered enough for him to feel confident in reaching the next layer.

    He summoned Al¡¯Ruzan back with a message and began reaching down through space.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes snapped open and she burst to her feet, distracting him.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Hurry, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    He turned to look back at her, letting his annoyance shine through.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What is it now?

    </blockquote>

    The convenience of her making sudden proclamations had his teeth clenching tight.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Our window for the next layer is closing. If we don¡¯t get there now¡­

    </blockquote>

    He wanted to dismiss her statement as theatrics or some sort of power play after their earlier argument. But the wide-eyed look on her face seemed to be real.

    Either Mara-Lin-Jaid was an amazing actress¡ªand a sociopath. Or¡­

    He pushed his aura deeper, reaching for the layer with an urgency that he didn¡¯t really feel. But humoring the woman cost him nothing, so he fanned his senses out wide.

    The first couple of waypoints had been difficult to pin down. Crimson Spear¡¯s senses and memory weren¡¯t human, making it tough to navigate with nothing but his aura.

    But he was beginning to feel a connection to those memories, something about re-visiting them in the present was anchoring them in his mind. He wouldn¡¯t have been able to draw a map through the Underworld, but he felt confident that he was narrowing down the general locations much faster now.

    When he found the waypoint with his aura, he wasted no time opening the portal. Just to be safe, he anchored another portal in the reverse direction, allowing them to see what lay beyond.

    Unlike everywhere else in the Underworld, it was incredibly bright on this layer. Brilliant yellow-red light spread through the portal, illuminating their small cave painfully.

    Ben, Mara-Lin-Jaid, and Terry all stared through that secondary portal with trepidation.

    A lake of lava spread out before them, the heat emanating through the portal enough to make sweat bead on Terry¡¯s forehead.

    Right on the edge of his first portal, a small stretch of rock jutted up from the lava. It was clear from the way the stone arced toward another column before suddenly ending that there had once been connective tissue between the columns sitting in the lava. Something had eroded them in the time since Crimson Spear had made this journey.

    Before anyone could point out the obvious issue with this waypoint, Mara-Lin-Jaid was through the first portal, appearing on the far side through the viewing port of the second portal.

    A cry of warning died on Terry¡¯s lips as she visibly waved them through, her eyes narrowed with pain.

    Terry heard pounding footsteps down the tunnel and turned to see Al¡¯Ruzan rushing toward them. He was about to message the giant that Mara-Lin-Jaid had gone through, when the Duelist bypassed the two of them and took the portal without a halting moment.

    Ben and Terry looked at each other in surprise and weary resignation.

    ¡°I should be able to hold off the heat for a few minutes. But you¡¯ll need to work fast.¡±

    Terry nodded, bracing himself for the heat, and stepped through.

    As he appeared on the other side, a wall of heat hit him like a charging sanguine. He staggered at the stifling pressure, every breath scalding his lungs.

    When Ben came through, he closed the two portals and got to work on finding the next layer.

    A rush of cool air burst forth from Ben, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the sauna-like surroundings.

    As his senses ranged down, he felt sweat dripping down his back, his shirt clinging to his skin. If he wasn¡¯t occupied with searching for the next waypoint, he might have been able to hold off the heat with Master of Light. But as it was, he was forced to suffer while he searched.

    He felt Ben stirring his aura, struggling to hold off the scorching air and couldn¡¯t help but recognize that they were working with a time limit.

    His senses followed the path laid out in Crimson Spear¡¯s memory, tracing down to the edges of his capabilities. He sifted through the area, feeling a familiarity almost immediately that filled him with hope.

    As he narrowed it down further, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like the heat was rising, despite Ben¡¯s best efforts.

    ¡°Is it just me,¡± he said through gritted teeth, ¡°or is it hotter than when we arrived?¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please hurry, Terry!

    </blockquote>

    He maintained his focus, but cast her a dark look. What do you think I¡¯m¡ª

    His thoughts cut off as he saw the three of them squeezing in tight near the center of the rock column. All around them, the lava was visibly rising. When they arrived, it had been halfway up the hundred foot tall column. Now, it appeared to have climbed another twenty feet at least.

    Oh, shit¡­

    He redoubled his efforts, focusing his aura in tight. He was close¡ªhe could feel it, somehow.

    But then Mara-Lin-Jaid cried out in pain. His eyes cut over to see Al¡¯Ruzan on his knees, his body visibly smoking as he wrapped the woman up tight with his arms. Ben had his hands held upright, his face pinched with effort.

    He realized that Ben was centering his magic around Terry, giving him the space to work. If he didn¡¯t open the portal in the next few seconds, Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid would be boiled alive.

    Making a judgment call, he cut through space, though he knew he hadn¡¯t quite found Crimson Spear¡¯s waypoint. It was close enough that he could make another jump there if they found something hostile on the other side.

    The blue-white portal rippled through the air and he cried out toward the group.

    As soon as he opened his mouth, searing heat coated his throat, turning his shout into more of a croak.

    ¡°Go!¡±

    Al¡¯Ruzan had to physically pick Mara-Lin-Jaid up and carry her through the portal. Behind them, Ben gave a quick nod for Terry to go first.

    As he leaped through the portal, the sudden transition from scorching air to the cool, damp atmosphere on the other side of the portal caused a strange reaction in his body.

    His lungs spasmed as he gasped for air, the cold stabbing as it made its way down his throat. He felt his pulse beating erratically and a sense of wooziness gripped him.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    But his body¡¯s reaction was nothing compared to Mara-Lin-Jaid. She was collapsed on the ground, her body smoking as she convulsed. Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t much better, though he was on one knee, his hands clutching the woman with a helpless fervor.

    Summoning his aura, he activated Master of Light and began controlling the infrared light around the two of them, regulating it so that the extreme temperature shift didn¡¯t overwhelm their bodies.

    Ben appeared a moment later, the pull on his aura signaling his arrival. Terry cut the aura connection, and the blue-white light disappeared.

    It took him a moment to realize that the area they¡¯d entered hadn¡¯t darkened¡ªthere was still some light source illuminating the four of them.

    He flinched in surprise when he spotted two dozen ghouls encircling them with weapons drawn. Another half dozen liches flanked, their auras already summoned.

    Any other time, he might have been buoyed by the sight of the familiar undead. But something about their auras and demeanors told him that their party¡¯s presence was less than appreciated.

    Discreetly, he began to reach down to the next layer, hoping to avoid any conflict.

    A deep ghoulish voice rang out, full of power and confidence.

    ¡°If the Outsiders do not release their auras, their lives are forfeit!¡±

    Terry hesitated, glancing back at Ben. Al¡¯Ruzan looked up in confusion, not understanding the ghoulish words.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Terry asked his uncle softly.

    The man¡¯s eyes traced over the hostile group, locking on the liches to either side.

    ¡°Listen to them, Terry.¡± His tone was cautious, but not resigned.

    ¡°If you can hold them off¡ª¡±

    Ben shook his head once. ¡°The liches can disrupt your aura, then we¡¯ll be trapped and forced to fight.¡±

    ¡°This is your last warning!¡±

    Terry studied his uncle¡¯s face for one more moment, felt his aura retract, and sighed. He followed suit, releasing his own aura.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: What is happening, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I think we¡¯re being taken prisoner. Ben says they have a means of disrupting my portals, so we have to play nice for now.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Will they impede our progress?

    </blockquote>

    Terry looked around, surveying the undead. Ghoulish expressions were never easy to read, but over the years, he¡¯d come to understand their postures better than most.

    Ghouls didn¡¯t bluff¡ªthat much was certain¡ªbut he got the impression from their stances that they¡¯d only attack if provoked. Whether that meant they¡¯d imprison his group indefinitely, he couldn¡¯t say.

    But whatever the case, they wouldn¡¯t be able to break free in this moment; the only play was to go along with their orders.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can¡¯t say. But fighting now would only end with our deaths. Let¡¯s wait and see.

    </blockquote>

    Judging from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face, he wasn¡¯t pleased with the answer. But he didn¡¯t make a move, which Terry was thankful for.

    As the ghouls pressed in, a gap in their ranks formed, revealing three ghoul elders standing behind them. They were just as tall as Crimson Spear, their auras noticeable even from a distance. The two on either side had ivory torcs around their arms, while the elder in the middle had another around his neck and a long, black blade strapped to his back.

    The three of them strode forward, the middle ghoul with the black sword leading a half-step ahead of the others.

    Ben stepped past Terry, who belatedly followed the man. Al¡¯Ruzan rose, casting intimidating looks all around as he stood over Mara-Lin-Jaid, who had yet to fully recover.

    As they approached, the leader clacked his jagged teeth.

    ¡°Who are you interlopers? How have you made it to the Depths without passing our vassal Clans?¡±

    Ben stared into the leader¡¯s eyes, no hint of fear or hesitation in his expression.

    ¡°We have writ from Crimson Spear of the Bloodsplatter Clan. Our mission¡ª¡±

    He cut off as the sound of crunching teeth echoed throughout the cave. The elders didn¡¯t react but Terry could feel their auras expressing their surprise and anger.

    The leader leaned forward, his eyes level with Ben¡¯s. Terry could feel the barely restrained violence in the ghoul¡¯s posture.

    ¡°We do not mention that disgraced Clan. They have failed our people and have been exiled to the Surface.¡± The elder seemed to study Ben¡¯s face, looking for some reaction, before returning upright. ¡°They have sent you to your death.¡±

    His aura pulsed out, echoing his words. Terry felt the ghouls react, their spears pushing forward to close in the ring of metal.

    Al¡¯Ruzan growled, pulling his own ghoulish spear from his back and whirled toward the nearest ghouls.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Hold!

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t glance toward the man, but he also didn¡¯t lunge into the nearest foe.

    ¡°You did not let me finish,¡± Ben said, his aura shaping into an insistent gesture that conveyed importance. ¡°We are on a holy mission and shall not be impeded by Children of the Mother.¡±

    The elder on the left bared jagged teeth, stepping forward menacingly.

    ¡°An interloper, an invader from another world, dares to speak of the Mother?¡±

    The leader held out a hand, shaping his aura in a way so that Terry couldn¡¯t read the gesture. The other elder backed away immediately, bowing his head in deference.

    As the leader regarded Ben, Terry could feel the appraising nature of his look. The ghoul took a moment before speaking.

    ¡°Your words are all correct, interloper. But tell me, have you been coached what to say, like a tyghu mimicking its owner, hm?¡± He tilted his head, his slick red lips peeling back to reveal his jagged teeth. ¡°What do you know of the Mother, or her Children?¡±

    Terry watched Ben out of the corner of his eye, afraid to look away from the elders and have it be misinterpreted as fear or disrespect. His uncle was utterly still, reminding him of the way ghouls could stand without flicking a muscle for hours.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s going on?

    </blockquote>

    Ben didn¡¯t respond, spiking Terry¡¯s anxiety.

    The leader continued to stare at Ben as the man remained completely motionless. Terry feared his uncle had run out of words or was inexplicably frozen with indecision. He almost interjected in a desperate bid to save them all, but the ghoul leader raised his head before Terry could act.

    It was a subtle tilt, a gesture that he recognized, had seen before but couldn¡¯t place.

    He was racking his memories, trying to recall when he had seen the ghouls of Wichita make a similar gesture.

    The moment seemed to stretch through time, extending well past when humans would have broken their gaze or fidgeted uncomfortably. Yet Ben continued to remain stoically frozen, not even the rise and fall of his chest to indicate breath.

    Terry flicked his eyes between the two, not understanding the dynamic playing out before him.

    When the ghoul leader broke the impasse, Terry let out a deep breath, as if he had been the one holding it in.

    ¡°Someone has taught you to be still, then,¡± the elder said. ¡°And you speak the language of the Underworld like a native. Curious¡­¡±

    The same elder on the left spoke up.

    ¡°That proves nothing¡ª¡±

    Aura flashed from the leader, overwhelming the shapes of the other elder.

    ¡°They may not be of the Children,¡± the leader replied, his eyes holding Ben¡¯s for another beat before turning to the elder at his side. ¡°But it has garnered the Outsiders the right to speak.¡±

    The vocal elder inclined his head in deference and the leader turned back to them. His aura ranged out as he indicated the quiet elder on his left.

    Aura pushed forward, the leader introducing his subordinate by name. It was directed first toward Ben, then passed over Terry. The images he saw were powerful, more direct and prideful than Weeping Rock, but younger than Crimson Spear. Terry didn¡¯t know if that was a matter of age or rank, but he pushed the thoughts from his mind as he absorbed the elders¡¯ name-shapes.

    The first image was that of the ghoul himself clutching tight to the dark ceiling of a cave. His eyes were closed, his chest unmoving. Somehow, Terry knew that the ghoul had his eyes closed to prevent the reflection of light on his pupils.

    Another image flashed, that of the ghoul dropping below, his bone-claws latching onto the back of some unknown creature.

    There wasn¡¯t a hardcoded name to the images¡ªthere never was with the ghouls¡ªbut he still felt like the sensations and memories formed a cohesive title that conveyed the ghoul¡¯s name.

    In this case, Terry referred to him as Silent Death.

    The leader paused a moment, letting them digest the name-shapes, before indicating the outspoken ghoul on his right. More images appeared in Terry¡¯s mind, conveying a sense of momentum and violence. It was a confusing series of memories where the elder fought off multiple attackers with spinning movements that defied the eye.

    After the images stopped, he interpreted the sensations and feelings into a name¡ªWhirling Bone.

    When both flanking elders had been introduced, they turned to their leader and projected their auras as one.

    The depth of the images eclipsed the simple sensations of Whirling Bone or Silent Death. A kaleidoscope of emotions, fights, triumphs¡ªand defeats¡ªflickered through his mind. None of them seemed to have any bearing on the leader¡¯s actual name, but instead served as a catalog of his deeds that rang out as a sort of ode to his leadership.

    When the shapes began to dissipate, a single image appeared¡ªthe same obsidian sword strapped to the leader¡¯s back visible in Terry¡¯s mind. After a moment, the sword faded, revealing their clan name.

    He knew instinctively that this clan was the Fleshripper Clan, and that their leader was Obsidian Blade. There was a weight to his name that felt old, giving the impression of centuries, not decades.

    As the two elders released their aura, Terry wondered about the rules of the greetings. While the elders had been introduced, then introduced their leader, none of the other ghouls in attendance had let out so much as a flicker of aura.

    Since the weaker elders had been introduced by Obsidian Blade, did that mean he or Al¡¯Ruzan needed to introduce Mara-Lin-Jaid? Was Ben supposed to introduce them?

    Did any of them even warrant an introduction?

    A glance back revealed the girl was unconscious, though the movement of her chest showed she was still alive. Al¡¯Ruzan was still eyeing the surrounding ghouls like he was waiting for them to attack, so Terry decided he would just introduce Ben as the elders had done for Obsidian Blade.

    But as he opened his mouth to speak, Ben shaped his aura first.

    He might have thought he had misunderstood the order of things, or perhaps Terry hadn¡¯t proved himself to the ghouls and therefore it wasn¡¯t appropriate for him to introduce Ben.

    Then, he saw the memories Ben was pushing out and felt his mouth open in shock.

    It was an image of him! Through Ben¡¯s aura, he saw flashes of himself running through the liminal layer¡¯s chasm as the sanguine swarmed. Brief glimpses of the sanguine filtered through¡ªa thousand and more¡ªas they prepared to dive upon the remnants of the Bloodsplatter Clan.

    Then, he saw his hands raise, his face clenched tight in concentration. Blinding, yellow-white brilliance seemed to burst forth, as if summoned by gods themselves. The flying sanguine were shredded by the flowing light, turning to ash before dusting the rocks below.

    When the vision ended, Terry found himself staring at Ben in shock.

    The name Ben had given¡ªhis name¡ªwas Lightbringer¡­

 B2 - Chapter 39: Hoverboard Gambit

    Terry¡¯s world froze, the emotions of the realization that Ben had named him Lightbringer nearly overwhelming him. His chest clenched at the thought and he forced himself to turn from Ben to find anything else to look at.

    He turned his eyes to Obsidian Blade, and found the leader¡¯s gaze locked onto him.

    ¡°You have named him?¡± Obsidian Blade asked, never taking his eyes off of Terry.

    The weight of that stare seemed to pin him in place, but he felt a sense of pride that wouldn¡¯t let him bend or turn away.

    I have a ghoulish name¡­

    He had never expected or needed to be named by the ghouls of Wichita; he was prince to them, though he would have preferred Terry.

    But now he understood the importance not only of earning a name, but being given one. His thoughts flashed back to when he had first named Crunch. He hadn¡¯t been adept enough to read the ghoul¡¯s emotions or reactions, but in hindsight, the ghoul had possessed an obvious pride with his name. One that belayed the mundane nature of the word crunch.

    A sense of silliness washed over him as he realized that pre-teen Terry had named all his closest friends with innocuous names. Crunch, Bloodstain, Burgundy¡­

    And yet, they had never balked or indicated anything but pride with their given names. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t the content of the name that mattered, but the relationship between the giver and receiver.

    He shook himself from the emotions, giving Ben one thankful look before shaping his own aura.

    In his mind, he held the image that he¡¯d seen before¡ªBen standing at the center of a raging blizzard. All around him, icy death whirled, but never touched the man. Not only was he safe from the danger¡ªhe was the danger. Terry latched onto that idea, forming it into the aura as best he could.

    It wasn¡¯t exactly as he recalled from the one time Ben had given it, but he knew intuitively that he had still done the name justice.

    He presented Ben to the elders with his ghoul moniker, Lord of Ice.

    When he was done, he released his aura, waiting for the ghouls to react or for Ben to speak. He felt his uncle looking at him and glanced up to meet his gaze. There was an appraising look there and Terry lifted his eyebrows subtly in question.

    Before he could parse Ben¡¯s expression, Obsidian Blade spoke.

    ¡°Powerful given names.¡± He looked past them to Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid. ¡°The oversized spawnling seems on the verge of violence. While I would never begrudge an excited youth a release, I imagine you would like to tend to your injured spawnling?¡±

    Ben nodded, confirming the gesture with an aura shape.

    ¡°If you can spare the Blood.¡±

    Terry¡¯s head whipped up in surprise, then he schooled his expression as best he could. He hadn¡¯t expected Ben to be so bold after the two groups had nearly come to blows. But it seemed Ben¡ªand in some small way, Terry¡ªhad passed some sort of challenge.

    The Fleshripper Clan had welcomed them into their fold¡ªfor now, at least.

    <hr>

    Py Dar clutched the shield of bone with her four hands, imbuing her aura into the framework they had invented. At her side, Chippy floated on a smaller stretch of bone that Juan Carlos had strangely referred to as a hoverboard.

    She didn¡¯t understand the reference, but was nonetheless pleased with the result. Chippy had helped her craft the device by utilizing the aura framework they had isolated from Terry¡¯s Skill. With a constant stream of the little Savant¡¯s aura, he was now able to float on the hoverboard, even directing it by triggering certain sections of the framework.

    With her hands freed up now from carrying Chippy, she was able to work as the group performed a fighting retreat.

    Juan¡¯s fire arced past her face, singing one of her olfactory antenna ends, causing her to cry out in surprise.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Juan Carlos! That was one of my primary antennae you nearly burned off!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Sorry!

    </blockquote>

    Another fireball flashed past her face, just a handspan further out than the previous one.

    How is an Artificer supposed to work under these conditions! she complained.

    Her third donor would have told her that genius can only be fully realized with a sword held above the creatant¡¯s neck.

    She wondered if her third donor had ever had a swarm of bloodsucking sanguine hounding him while he worked¡ªat a run!

    The group¡¯s attempt to penetrate through the liminal layer leading to the fourth of seven layers had failed. Sanguine forces had blocked the path with boulders that stretched ten ghouls high, impeding their passage the entire way down.

    Despite that, they¡¯d managed to fight their way through, only to find the narrow passage leading to the fourth layer had been completely collapsed. Crimson Spear had signaled a retreat and passed aura images that had given the non-natives the sense of an alternate route.

    The ghoul elder had been very particular in his hand gestures, pointing to Chippy¡¯s hoverboard, before offering another bone shield that a ghoul had been using.

    It only took Py a moment to understand that the elder wanted her to create another, larger version, of the hoverboard.

    As they fought their way back up the liminal layer, she fought her aura¡ªand rising panic¡ªto rearrange the aura of the shield into the necessary framework.

    Sanguine fliers continuously harassed the group, darting from the inky black with nothing but the rush of wind to signal them. Juan managed to throw balls of fire every minute or so to illuminate the attackers, but she could sense his aura draining faster than it recovered.

    But the sanguine were ultimately no match for the powerful ghouls¡ªnot in the scant numbers that they were currently attacking. It seemed that by closing off access to the lower layers, they¡¯d effectively cut off their own reinforcements.

    As a result, they came in small bursts of three or four, rather than the hundreds of the previous layers.

    When the group reached the top of the liminal layer, the ghoul leader pointed to Juan, then out toward the yawning chasm stretching before them. Juan nodded and sent a fireball arcing through the dark.

    Py felt her antennae twitch as she finally understood the plan.

    Across a hundred feet of open space, a rock column jutted up into the air. Faintly past that, she saw another column stretching in the distance.

    More sanguine attacks swept down upon them, the ghoul spears launching with a burst of aura to strike them from the air.

    The ghoul leader turned to her, then indicated the shield of bone in her hands.

    Pressure settled on her shoulders, her antennae twitching and her limbs vibrating uncontrollably. She pushed away those physical sensations, focusing utterly on manipulating the aura of the bone shield to create a moving platform¡ªone they could use to reach the distant stone columns.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    The words of her third donor rattled unwanted in her head once more¡ªgenius can only be fully realized with a sword held above the creatant¡¯s neck.

    She had never liked her third donor.

    <hr>

    Despite the sense of urgency infecting his limbs¡ªnot only for their mission, but for the sake of Mara-Lin-Jaid¡ªthe Fleshsplitter Clan would not be hurried. They encircled the group, Al¡¯Ruzan carrying the injured Seer as Ben and Terry walked side by side.

    The currents of the surrounding ghouls¡¯ auras were unsettled, an obvious disagreement passing between them. They managed to keep the specifics shielded from their group, but he couldn¡¯t help but catch glimpses of the silent argument.

    Outsiders in our home, was one impression.

    But initiated in our ways, given a holy name!

    By Surface dwellers! What weight is there in that?

    A turbulent wave of aura passed among the ghouls at that, giving Terry the impression that most did not agree with the last sentiment. Despite their status as second-class citizens among the ghouls of this layer, there was still a sanctity among the name-giving of the Surface ghouls.

    The silent conversation settled as Obsidian Blade led them toward what Terry could only describe as a temple. Crimson Spear¡¯s clan had crafted an impressive entrance to their Evolution Chamber given the circumstances and considering the time they had lived there.

    But the display before them now beggared the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s best efforts.

    Two dozen sandstone columns stretched up to the top of the cavern, flanking the entrance to the Fleshripper Clan¡¯s Evolution Chamber. Each column was intricately carved with geometric shapes that he realized must be some sort of language. They were small, almost hieroglyphic in nature, trailing up the columns in a swirling pattern that made it difficult for his human eyes to follow.

    Past the columns were massive ivory doors that appeared to be carved from the bones of some behemoth. At first glance, the images on the door¡¯s surface seemed to be nonsensical. But as they moved closer, he realized that the images carved into the bone were just so small as to be unreadable from a distance.

    Even close up, the tops of the doors were too far to get a good glimpse at the story seemingly told by the carvings. But at the bottom of the doors, he was able to examine the images a bit closer.

    It seemed as if the carvings were telling a story of the loss of the Lakarot. A font of some liquid that spouted high into the air in one image was now depleted in the next. Stemming from that, the ghouls in the next carving were at war, fighting sanguine, draugrs, and even other ghouls.

    The final image seemed to indicate a sort of diaspora, a united front of ghouls spreading to the far ends of the Underworld as their source of life slowly dried up.

    He was pulled from his examination by a slight scuffle behind him. Turning, he saw two ghouls approaching Al¡¯Ruzan to take Mara-Lin-Jaid. But the big Duelist growled in response, eliciting a hostile stance from the nearby ghouls.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Tell them to back off!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Calm down! They¡¯re going to heal her using the same method they used to heal me. It¡¯s a huge show of trust.

    </blockquote>

    That you¡¯re ruining, he didn¡¯t say.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I will carry her.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°What¡¯s the fool doing?¡± Ben asked with a scowl.

    Terry sighed. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to leave her. Is it possible for him to carry her in?¡±

    Ben furrowed his nose, then turned toward Obsidian Blade. The moment he asked the question, Whirling Bone took a hostile step toward Al¡¯Ruzan.

    ¡°Tell this spawnling that he sorely tests our generosity!¡± The raw disgust in the elder¡¯s aura was a physical thing that even Al¡¯Ruzan couldn¡¯t have missed. ¡°Give the weak one over to receive the Mother¡¯s Blessing. Or don¡¯t, and let it die!¡±

    The tension among the group ratcheted higher, Al¡¯Ruzan not understanding the words but reading the intent just fine. He angled his body to encompass as many of the flanking ghouls as possible, preparing for an ambush rather than giving in to the demands.

    Terry might have cursed the giant for being a fool, but he understood just how confused and alienated Al¡¯Ruzan was feeling. Not only could he not understand the exchanges that had been happening for the past few minutes, but he also was carrying his dying friend in his arms. Being ordered to give her up to these hostile strangers was a tall ask.

    For a moment, he remained silent, wondering if Ben or perhaps Obsidian Blade would interject and override Whirling Bone¡¯s proclamation. But Ben seemed resigned to the ultimatum, simply shaking his head, while Obsidian Blade said nothing to contradict his subordinate.

    Taking a risk, Terry stepped forward.

    ¡°Would it be acceptable if I carried her into the Chamber? I¡¯ve been inside the Bonesplinter¡¯s Chamber and witnessed the Promise of Return. I even received the Mother¡¯s Blessing after fighting the sanguine in defense of the Bloodsplatter Clan.¡±

    A confusing mix of aura passed among the ghoul elders and he had difficulty determining if it was a positive or negative reaction.

    Whirling Bone¡ªwho Terry had realized was determined to undermine them at every turn¡ªspoke first.

    ¡°See how Lightbringer lies? Perhaps these ones are spies of the exiles, sent to trick us from our store of Blood?¡±

    Just as Whirling Bone projected disgust and disbelief with both his aura and words, Terry likewise pushed his sincerity and honesty through the shape of his aura.

    ¡°I defer to the elder¡¯s wisdom on matters of the Children. But in this instance, I tell the truth.¡±

    Before Whirling Bone could respond, Silent Death shaped his aura, pushing it forward in a ghoulish way of taking the floor.

    ¡°Tell us of your experience with the Bonesplinter Clan. We had thought them lost to sanguine raids many cycles past.¡±

    He was a bit surprised to realize they were familiar with the Wichitan ghouls. In all his time among them, he had never fully learned the story of their arrival on Earth. There were carvings in the Evolution Chamber door, as well as the Awakening Chamber, that depicted stories¡ªmostly of his grandfather¡¯s journey in the Underworld. But as a child, they had scared him more than anything.

    Thinking back, he wracked his brain trying to remember those stories now.

    ¡°My grandfather¡ª¡± The word was different in ghoulish, more akin to the word and shape they used for elder, but he thought it sufficient. ¡°¡ªwas summoned to your world as I was, long ago. The details are lost to me, but I know that a pact was formed between him and the Bonesplinter Clan. They returned to my world with him¡­¡± He hesitated, wondering if they would be offended by this next part, yet realizing that any deception would not go unnoticed. ¡°They serve him¡­as vassals.¡±

    He felt the shock from Silent Death and many of the surrounding ghouls, but from Whirling Bone, he felt only anger and denial.

    ¡°You claim that an Outsider rules over the Bonesplinter Clan!¡± Whirling Bone took a threatening step forward and Ben angled himself in front of Terry, staring the ghoul down. Their eyes met in open challenge.

    ¡°It does sound possible,¡± Silent Death said. ¡°They did disappear without even a trace of their bodies or their wealth of Blood.¡±

    Terry nodded, latching onto that single idea.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen it¡ªtheir cache of the Mother¡¯s Blood is vast, stretching further than I can even see.¡±

    A ripple of shock ranged among the ghouls, but was cutoff instantly by a pulse from Obsidian Blade.

    ¡°You¡¯ve interacted with them then? What was their leader¡¯s name?¡±

    He felt his stomach drop at the question. As a child, he¡¯d never even known they had ghoulish names, let alone how to sense them. By the time he¡¯d figured it out, he had only been introduced to a single individual of the Clan.

    ¡°I was uninitiated¡ª¡± He used the word Silent Death had used earlier, not quite sure if it was accurate. ¡°¡ªso was too ignorant to learn his name.¡± He felt Whirling Bone¡¯s smug arrogance through his aura. ¡°But I did meet a lich who instructed me on the purpose of the Promise of Return. His name was Hoping Tree.¡± Terry pushed the images forward with the word, eliciting a surprised sound from somewhere behind him.

    He looked to see the group of liches turning their hooded gazes toward each other, the ripple of shock in their aura ranging out plain to read.

    Obsidian Blade sent his aura forward in response. ¡°Speak.¡±

    One of the liches inclined its hooded head, stepping forward.

    ¡°This one is known to us. Before the Bonesplinter Clan¡¯s disappearance, this lich was a colleague of ours.¡±

    Terry felt his heart lift at those words, turning to see how Obsidian Blade would react. The ghouls rarely, if ever, let their thoughts show on their faces. But he could feel the ghoul leader¡¯s aura react, shaping into a form that Terry read as acceptance.

    ¡°This could be information passed by those exiles on the Surface!¡± Whirling Bone turned toward his fellow elders, his aura boiling with disbelief. ¡°A ploy to sneak them into our good¡ª¡±

    Silent Death¡¯s aura shot forward, interrupting the elder.

    ¡°Can you not read his aura, if not his words? There is no hint of deception or calculation in this Outsider¡¯s aura.¡± Silent Death turned to face Whirling Bone. ¡°One would think you had some specific reason to implicate these Outsiders¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do not challenge me,¡± Whirling Bone hissed. His hand reached back for his spear.

    Obsidian Blade sent a pulse of aura out, disrupting Terry¡¯s senses for a moment, causing his head to swim and his eyes to fuzz. When he recovered, Whirling Bone and Silent Death had bowed their postures¡ªalong with the two dozen other members of the Fleshripper Clan.

    ¡°You shame me,¡± Obsidian Blade said quietly. ¡°You shame our Clan. Both of you leave my senses. Fight it out if you must, but do not return until I deem it appropriate.¡±

    The two dismissed elders left with a bow and it was impossible to miss the eagerness for violence in Whirling Bone¡¯s gaze. For his part, Silent Death clearly strode toward the fight, though not with his brother¡¯s excitement.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: By all the gods! What is happening, Terry!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: They¡¯re gonna heal her, but I think it has to be me that carries her in.

    </blockquote>

    He studied Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s expression at that, and though he wasn¡¯t as difficult to read as the ghouls, his alien features did make Terry wonder if that was anger or jealousy on the Duelist¡¯s face.

    After a moment, he nodded, passing Mara-Lin-Jaid over to Terry¡¯s arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Protect her with your life, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    Despite his previous inability to read Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s expression, the unsaid threat of those words was clear as day in the set of his eyes.

    Protect her with your life, or yours is forfeit, was the message Terry understood.

    He nodded acknowledgment, then turned toward Obsidian Blade.

    ¡°Please,¡± he said urgently. ¡°She needs the Blood.¡±

    Obsidian Blade ranged his senses over her, feeling her aura, before turning toward the Evolution Chamber doors. Four ghouls rushed forward to peel the giant ivory doors back.

    ¡°Follow me.¡±

    Then Obsidian Blade strode through the entry and into the dark of the Chamber.

 B2 - Chapter 40: The Four Pillars

    As the final ghoul made it across the yawning chasm of the liminal layer and on to the first stone column, Py and Chippy were just finishing up the sixth bone shield hoverboard.

    The procession of ghouls were strung out across half a dozen columns, each hoverboard dedicated to one gap between the columns. Py, Chippy, and Juan were standing on the central column, surrounded by a group of ghoul bodyguards on Crimson Spear¡¯s orders. The ghoul leader had been quick to assign them a guard once he had realized that their inventions were the only way across the chasm to the alternate route.

    With the sixth hoverboard finally finished, they could start ferrying across at a much faster rate than when they¡¯d first started. Sanguine attacks were few and far between now, but a new enemy had appeared once the ghouls had started crossing the stone columns.

    A flash of aura came from Crimson Spear, a signal they had developed for Juan. The Elementalist sent a fireball arcing into the air, undirected and loose from his aura. It spread wide as it rose, unfurling like a flower to illuminate the open air above them.

    Thousands of bat-like animals swarmed, shrieking as the light from the fire momentarily blinded them. At the same time, nearly a hundred telekinetically enhanced spears launched out at nearby targets, spearing the creatures and launching past¡ªoftentimes impaling two, three, or more¡ªbefore returning to their owners.

    Chippy took the distraction to inject more aura into his personal hoverboard, drifting off the stone column and into open air. It was a particularly vulnerable sensation, drifting over a thousand-foot drop secured by nothing but his own aura. Especially so considering his people¡¯s natural predators in their prehistoric times had been a flying creature known for plucking them from the ground before dropping them to their death.

    Of course, they¡¯d eventually conquered their skies with technology and later the magic offered by their Systems. But genetic fears were visceral and Chippy was no exception.

    He squeaked in terror as his hoverboard seemed to drift forward in slow motion, despite the rush of aura he shoved into it. It arrived at the far column in mere seconds that had stretched on for eternity and he let out a triumphant cry as it once again hovered over stable ground.

    The ghoulish procession made good time with six floating shields and they fended off the flying attackers with the help of Juan¡¯s fire and the flying spears. When the final ghoul touched ground, Crimson Spear urged them forward with barely a moment to recover.

    Chippy let out a defeated squeak as he propelled his hoverboard after the ghouls.

    It was only when they entered the cover of a tunnel leading down into the next layer did he feel his glands cease their excretion.

    <hr>

    Terry went into the Evolution Chamber of the Fleshsplitter Clan alone with Mara-Lin-Jaid. Al¡¯Ruzan and Ben were forced to stay behind, leaving only a single lich and Obsidian Blade himself to accompany him.

    Unlike the Chamber back in Wichita, the doors didn¡¯t open up directly onto a beach leading to the Blood Pit, but instead stretched on, the end shrouded in dark.

    Activating Master of Light, he enhanced his vision to penetrate the inky black and was surprised to see more carvings etched into the walls and ceiling of the tunnel.

    He had a sudden urge to reach out a hand and caress the stone, almost as if he could absorb the stories told through touch alone. With Mara-Lin-Jaid in his arms, he didn¡¯t dare¡­yet there was something pulling him toward the carvings that he couldn¡¯t resist¡ªdidn¡¯t want to resist.

    With a flex of aura, he used Master of Telekinesis to hold the woman and free up his hands. It was a drain on his reserves, but he only intended to do it for a few moments.

    His hands reached out on either side, fingertips caressing the walls, running over the texture of the carvings.

    Images¡ªno, memories¡ªflashed in his mind, causing him to stumble in surprise. He nearly dropped Mara-Lin-Jaid and had to reach out and catch her as his magical hold faltered.

    Obsidian Blade glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.

    ¡°Your senses are receptive,¡± the ghoul said. ¡°Not many Outsiders would be drawn to our history, let alone be open enough to receive the impressions.¡±

    With a firm grip on Mara-Lin-Jaid¡ªand a chagrined expression on his face as he imagined what Al¡¯Ruzan would have done had he seen that¡ªhe considered Obsidian Blade¡¯s words.

    ¡°It feels like memories were carved into the stone,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Like when a ghoul or lich expresses their name but¡­permanent.¡±

    He felt the lich behind him reach his aura forward, its sibilant voice echoing in the tunnel.

    ¡°Everything the Blessed do is with aura. We do not create without infusing aura. We do not speak without aura. Aura is the gift of the Mother to her Children.¡±

    They walked in silence as Terry contemplated that. He was dying to delve more into the thoughts of the undead like he had never done as a child, but also was hesitant to say the wrong thing and rock the current dynamic.

    ¡°Why do you say aura is the gift of the Mother to her Children? Many creatures that are not Blessed possess and use aura¡­¡±

    He held his breath after that question, hoping he hadn¡¯t pressed his luck. The lich started to stir his aura in response when Obsidian Blade interjected.

    ¡°The Mother is giving to all¡ªeven those that are not her Children. She is generous and loving where us baser creatures are jealous and grasping. It is this understanding that drives our entire species. In our adherence to duty and sacrifice, we honor the selfless nature of the Mother.¡±

    Before he could process those words and dive deeper, they turned a corner, the narrow tunnel opening into a wide open space. Compared to the Bloodsplatter Clan, it was a trove of wealth. But compared to his memory of the Wichitan Evolution Chamber, it was basically a large swimming pool.

    For some reason, the fact that Fleshripper Clan was one of the more powerful of the ghoulish clans and this was the extent of their Blood supply made Terry sad. Like he was staring upon the dilapidated, weathered exterior of a once-grand cathedral.

    ¡°Come, Lightbringer,¡± the lich hissed. ¡°Bring the spawnling to the edge of the Pit.¡±

    Shaken from his melancholy, Terry did as he was bidden, laying Mara-Lin-Jaid on the stone edge near the pool.

    The lich pulled a brush from its robes and extended it down into the black liquid. He scraped the excess off before brushing it against the skin of her face.

    ¡°Can I ask a question?¡± Terry ventured, projecting yearning curiosity toward Obsidian Blade.

    ¡°You may.¡±

    ¡°Without the Lakarot, how does the Fleshripper Clan have such a large pool of the Mother¡¯s Blood?¡± He felt the aura among the two undead shift, though not overtly hostile. ¡°I mean no offense. It just seems that with the supply cut off, your Clan would eventually run out, no?¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°It is a long and sad tale, Lightbringer,¡± Obsidian Blade said. ¡°Our animosity for the Bloodsplatter Clan¡ªand for Outsiders in particular¡ªis not baseless. Many cycles ago, they were one of the strongest clans. The ghouls possessed dominance of the Underworld and guarded the Lakarot fiercely. We understood duty more than the sanguine, draugrs, or other lesser undead. So we shared freely of Her Blood, never hoarding or denying access.¡±

    The lich continued to coat Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s skin with the Blood as Terry listened to Obsidian Blade¡¯s tale.

    ¡°The culmination of our duty and honor was to spend a rotation of time guarding the Lakarot as a clan. Each of the major powers took this honor more seriously than anything in our culture.¡± The ghoul hesitated, a rare show of reticence in the leader. Terry perked up, clinging to every word. ¡°The Bloodsplatter Clan were in charge of that honor when a powerful Outsider arrived. In their arrogance¡ªor perhaps I am unfair, maybe it was simple naivet¨¦¡ªthey allowed the Outsider to witness the Lakarot. When the Outsider later absconded with it, the Bloodsplatter Clan were disgraced and openly attacked. Confusion reigned for many cycles and when all was settled, the sanguine had taken control of what remained of the Blood.¡±

    A wave of fury emanated from Obsidian Blade, startling Terry before he realized it wasn¡¯t directed at him.

    ¡°They hoard the Blood jealously, forcing us to beg for allotments simply to maintain our numbers. You see, those such as Whirling Bone hate the Bloodsplatter Clan because he believes their arrogance is the reason for our current disgrace. We are too few now to challenge them for possession of the Blood¡ª¡±

    Mara-Lin-Jaid shot up into a sit, a wild gasp echoing from her throat.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Terry said quickly, crouching at her side.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You¡¯re okay, Mara-Lin-Jaid! You¡¯re safe.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Jaid! Thank the gods.

    </blockquote>

    But there was something off in her eyes, a frantic look that refused to settle. Terry put a hand on her shoulder, willing her to calm down.

    Her voice echoed out, alien and incomprehensible.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t understand. Repeat it in System chat.

    </blockquote>

    She started up once more in her own language, then shook her head as if in a daze.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: We¡¯ve been betrayed!

    </blockquote>

    Her eyes darted up to Obsidian Blade, then the lich at her side. She scuttled away from them on her hands and knees, coming around Terry.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: They healed you, they¡¯re our friends.

    </blockquote>

    He turned to see her eyes studying the two undead in the dark and realized she couldn¡¯t see. With a flex of aura, he enhanced her vision.

    She flinched in response, then seemed to settle incrementally.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Not them, the other one! He¡¯s leading sanguine to us right now!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: What is happening? We are under attack? Come to me, Jaid!

    </blockquote>

    Terry held her tight, squeezing her shoulders as she suddenly shivered. Her eyes tracked to Terry¡¯s, a fear mingled there with unshakable certainty.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I saw it, Terry. They¡¯re coming. Now!

    </blockquote>

    He bit his lip in thought. Her visions had always felt so convenient, unusable or downright too late to be of help. But the fear in her eyes was impossible to fake.

    Turning to Obsidian Blade, he hesitated a moment before speaking. ¡°She says one of your people is leading sanguine to us as we speak.¡± He studied Obsidian Blade¡¯s aura, wondering if the ghoul leader would automatically take sides against them. But the uncertain flash Terry saw made his heart clench. ¡°You¡¯re not surprised¡­¡±

    ¡°Whirling Bone has always been a supporter of the sanguine. I think he secretly believes that our people failed the Mother and we should bow down to those more capable of protecting the Blood.¡± Obsidian Blade glanced toward Mara-Lin-Jaid, a flicker of doubt in his aura. ¡°If what the spawnling says is true, we must hide you. We cannot fight against the sanguine swarms and hope to survive.¡±

    ¡°I can use my powers to teleport us to the bottom layer. Just let me grab my friends!¡±

    <hr>

    When Al¡¯Ruzan was born, the Matrons put a sharpened blade in his newborn hands. A tiny thing, only fit for eating with, yet potentially deadly in the grip of a babe.

    That was only the first test of the Dirg¡¯Ghee for those on the martial path¡ªshould the child cut themselves, they would be shunted away from martial pursuits.

    Should the child do worse¡­well, death was a fitting finality to such an early failure.

    His life had been a series of such tests, most unspoken and unexplained until well after he had passed.

    And passed he had.

    Ruzan was his sire¡¯s name, and his sire¡¯s name. Heavy with the weight of deeds stretching back hundreds of cycles. It was an honorable name, one that had been given freely, well before he had earned it or done anything of import¡ªother than not slicing his own neck at birth.

    But the title of ¡®Al¡¯ was something entirely else. That title could only be earned through merit extending beyond circumstance of birth or concentrated familial power. It wasn¡¯t simple physical feats that garnered him that title¡ªthough a dozen bodies of his former peers spoke to his prowess in that domain.

    No, Al meant that he carried himself with dignity, that he encapsulated the four pillars of power and leadership.

    Al meant future ruler of the Dirg¡¯Ghee.

    And so it was with great shame that he recognized that he had fallen from the path. It had been a gradual thing, a single degree shift that over the years stuck on this world, had seen him step slowly toward indignity and disgrace.

    He might have blamed it on the man standing beside him now¡ªBen¡ªfor humiliating him more than once over the years. But he had learned recently that the human was honorable, even selfless, which had only shamed Al¡¯Ruzan more.

    He might have then been inclined to cast blame on the lesser castes he¡¯d been forced to share a home with, forced to feed them like children, forced to listen to their incessant prattling as they slowly turned cave-crazy.

    But he had been their leader and it was his failure to follow the four pillars that had resulted in their discontent¡ªand his own.

    In a deep, distant part of his soul, he might have blamed Mara-Lin-Jaid for softening him. For making him weak.

    For making him fall in love¡ªfor a fall it was.

    He had been convinced that her tenderness and the others¡¯ weaknesses had pulled him down from the ideals of the four pillars. They had caused his fall.

    It was only now, standing side-by-side with Ben, preparing to fight off the sanguine that threatened him¡ªbut more importantly, Mara-Lin-Jaid¡ªdid he recognize the truth.

    He could not have fallen from the four pillars, for he had never truly adhered to them.

    Honor, Bravery, Selflessness, Strength.

    The four pillars were in a specific configuration for a reason. In the house of Al, Honor and Strength stood opposite Selflessness and Bravery, with the former two pillars coming first both in study and in practice.

    He had thought this was the natural order of the pillars¡ªHonor and Strength stood above Selflessness and Bravery, proving that Honor and Strength were the more important virtues.

    But as Mara-Lin-Jaid ran from the Chamber tunnel and into his arms, all the Strength and Honor in the world was as nothing in comparison to her weight pressed against his body.

    He¡¯d give his fighting arm for this woman, his legs for this woman. He¡¯d suffer a million cycles beneath the flames of the gods for this woman.

    Was that Selflessness? Was that Bravery?

    Did it matter?

    All around him, ghouls milled frantically, Terry¡¯s shrill human voice squawked in his ears, aura stirred like a great tidal pool.

    And none of it touched him.

    The only pool he saw were Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. The only sound he heard was her heartbeat pumping in rhythm to his own. The only movement he felt was her hands reaching up to grip his face.

    Liquid dripped down her cheeks, something she had once told him spoke of great pain or great happiness.

    As they embraced, he somehow realized that it could be both, simultaneously.

    <hr>

    Terry abandoned his attempts at rousing Al¡¯Ruzan from Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s embrace; there was clearly something happening between them that transcended the surface appearance.

    Turning to Ben, he found his uncle¡¯s eyes ice-blue.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be heavily guarded,¡± Ben said.

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°We could use the Fleshripper Clan in our assault.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    Ben blinked, his face stone still. ¡°You want me to ask or¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    Terry found Obsidian Blade rallying his forces, preparing to meet the sanguine that Whirling Bone was leading toward them.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to open a portal to the Lakarot¡¯s Chamber. We could use your help¡­¡±

    Obsidian Blade looked back from Silent Death, his eyes expressionless. Then, he sent a flash of aura to his subordinate, and turned fully toward Terry.

    ¡°If we divert too much of our forces, they will know we have bypassed them and will return in force. They move fast¡ªfaster than we possibly can.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow, not quite understanding.

    ¡°How? I mean, I¡¯ve seen ghouls move and you¡¯re not exactly slow.¡±

    Obsidian Blade turned and sent another pulse of aura out, and the bulk of his army jogged off with Silent Death, while ten ghouls stayed behind.

    ¡°The sanguine have excavated the Lakarot¡¯s Chamber into a wide-open space. Their wings will give them the flier¡¯s advantage. Likewise, the tunnels leading from this layer to the first are wide enough for them to travel through the air. As soon as they recognize my absence, their leaders will call for a retreat.¡±

    Ben stepped forward. ¡°Then we move fast. Once we restore the Lakarot, nothing else matters.¡±

    Obsidian Blade agreed with a flash of aura, but Terry felt himself wondering if in their haste to sacrifice themselves, they were missing a better strategy.

    Hesitantly, he pushed his own aura forward, cautious but insistent.

    ¡°If it comes to it, I won¡¯t falter in giving my life to save your world.¡± He met Obsidian Blade¡¯s eyes, feeling his magic stir sympathetically. ¡°But if you¡¯ll indulge me, I think I have a better plan¡­¡±