My mood improved as I strolled through the upper ring of Fortram. It felt good to be moving. The straps of my mechanical leg chafed my left thigh a bit too much, but I didn’t mind. Walking under the bright street lamps certainly beat moping in the dark council chamber.

If the city were still on the hill where it had originally stood, the sun would be dipping under the walls right about now. I hoped it was true that the Governor preferred to work at night, because it would be really embarrassing to break into his office only to find out that he wasn’t there.

The dark cloak over my shoulders hid my Player collar well, so nobody gave me a second glance. Admittedly there weren’t many around who could give me a glance at all; this was the upper ring of Fortram, where the wealthiest citizens lived. I reckoned that most of them were holed up in their mansions, waiting to see what happened next.

The other two rings weren’t as peaceful. The City Watch had closed down the gates between rings and were out in full force. Crowds were forming around governmental buildings to demand answers. It had been almost a day since the incident, after all. People were confused, scared, and angry. Worst of all, the Governor had no answers for them. Not yet.

I felt bad about leaving everyone in the dark for a whole day, but it had been necessary. I needed time to compose myself, and I needed to see what my companions thought of me. I needed a plan. If I approached the Governor, it would be on my own terms—with a clear goal in mind, instead of just coming here to explain myself and hope for the best. Hope was for amateurs.

The lockdown didn’t stop me. The World Seed was connected to the tunnel system of the Dungeon, which conveniently bypassed the walls and its closed gates. Nobody expected me to come straight out of the World Seed. The coast was clear and the stroll to my destination was pleasant.

Two men guarded the entrance of the city hall, checking everyone who entered. No crowd here, just a few reporters who had miraculously gotten through the lockdown. I walked past them and rounded the building. The city hall’s red brick wall had no windows on the first two floors, perhaps to make it more difficult to break in, but it wouldn’t stop a Player like me. I made sure that no one was watching me, then teleported Soul Eater into my hand, shaped it into a giant scythe, and smashed a man-sized hole in the wall through which I stepped into the building like a supervillain robbing a bank with explosions in the background—

“Focus,” we growled, shattering my dreams. Instead of a giant scythe, Soul Eater was in its usual boring dagger shape. I stared at the solid brick wall in front of me. Ugh. Onward with the much less fun solution, then. I turned the dagger around and pointed its tip at my right thigh. No, that was stupid. I switched hands and pointed Soul Eater at my left thigh instead, right above the prosthetic.

“I really should have tested this first,” I muttered. “Anyway, here we go.”

I took a deep breath and stabbed Soul Eater into my leg.

The blade punched through the fabric of our shorts, but our Shadeform activated before it could have hurt our skin. Our body faded from the Waking World. Soul Eater didn’t come with us; as the offending object, it slipped through our hand instead. Shadeform would keep us faded out until the danger had passed; it would remain active as long as a foreign object was within our body. Any object. And so while the dagger was falling through our leg, we floated lower and sank our feet into the ground. Soul Eater hit the pavement and bounced away, but our body remained in Shadeform.

We then flew through the brick wall. No, flying wasn’t exactly the right expression for it; we were willing ourselves to be elsewhere. It just looked as if we drifted through everything like a shade, which was probably why the Ability was called Shadeform. An ignorant name. This paltry power could not possibly compare.

Keeping our feet under the floor, we passed through the city hall’s rooms. We navigated mostly from memory; it was difficult to tell where we were because the light did not properly enter our eyes in this state. We tried to hurry. Our lungs weren’t trained to hold our breath for long. Below-average performance, in fact. Something we would need to remedy soon, if we wanted to keep this body.

We plunged an arm into the wall and moved upward. Unfortunately, the Governor’s office was upstairs and on the far side of the building. We entered a room that was full of people and the closest of them scrambled away in fright as we drifted to the next room. It had people too, and we didn’t have time to be stealthy. Why were these offices so full in the evening? By the time we reached our destination, the entire floor was full of panicking people.

I arrived through the side of the Governor’s office. I would have loved to claim that I looked awesome and dramatic as I stepped out of the bookshelves, but the truth was that I was gasping for breath as soon as I solidified. The office had gone through some changes since the last time I had been here; the Governor’s desk was moved to the side and a long conference table occupied the middle of the room. Governor Clavius occupied the head of the table while a bunch of geezers in formal clothing sat along the sides.

The looks on their faces were priceless. Those who saw me enter cried out in shock and alarm, while those who had their backs to me did the same with some delay. The closest of them even went so far as to jump out of their chair and run. Clavius himself didn’t overreact: he just froze. I noticed a wanted poster on the table with a drawn picture of my face on it, which might have explained things. My timing was impeccable.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” I said. I walked to one of the vacated chairs and sat down on it. “Talking about me, were you?”

Some of the scared men ran out of the office, shouting for guards. Their shouts got drowned by all the people who were shouting about a shade in the building. The door closed on its own, dampening the ruckus.

“Y-You—!” Governor Clavius gasped.

“Yes, me,” I said. “Oh, biscuits! Can I have some?”

There was a box of chocolate-covered biscuits on the table and I reached for it without waiting for the answer. These old guys certainly knew how to live! Chocolate was rare around here.

As I munched on my biscuit, I took my time to look at everyone who had stayed. Counselors or some kind of ministers, I supposed. They were quiet and still like cornered little rats, as if making the wrong move would have them killed. I didn’t know whether I found it funny or sad. They had created their own demon based on some rumors, and now said demon was sitting in front of them. My eyes settled on the Governor, on his balding, sweaty head and his plump, nervous face.

“Y-You can’t be here!” he found his voice as our eyes met. It wasn’t the most diplomatic thing he could have said, but hey, at least he was talking.

“I bring answers to your questions,” I said between bites of biscuit. “I thought it might interest you.”

“You’re a criminal—”

“If I may inquire,” a voice cut Clavius off, “what kind of answers would those be, Mr. Shadeslayer?”

I tilted my head at the man who spoke. He looked frail and old, dark skin and bushy eyebrows, hands shaking as he rested them on the table. It wasn’t fear that made his hands tremble, but age. His voice had been calm and steady.

“And you are?” I asked.

“Gowon Stormcaller, minister of commerce, humbly at your service.”

“Stormcaller? That’s a fancy name.”

“My father was a Reaper.”

“My condolences,” I said. “Anyway, the reason I’m here is—”

The door slammed open and Theodor Clavius burst in with a pair of guards at his heels.

“Father, we have to evacuate! There’s a shade—”

He stopped when he saw the scared men around the table, then the Governor sweating buckets, then me in the middle.

“Hey Theodore,” I said. “Don’t worry, the shade is friendly. Want some biscuits?”

The guards pushed Theodore aside to point their decay rifles at me.

“Stand down, men,” Gowon spoke. “We are having a civil conversation here.”

“Shoot him!” the Governor crowed. “Shoot him, now!”

“Wait!” Theodore said, pushing the guards back. “Wait! Everyone, will you please calm down?”

“I’m calm,” I said, biting into my second biscuit.

“He’s a criminal,” Clavius said, pointing a finger at me. “Look what he did to our city! Arrest him!”

“Governor Clavius,” Gowon said, “I do believe that we should hear first what Mr. Shadeslayer has to say.”

I did my best to ignore the tension in the room and nodded my thanks to the old man. I couldn’t blame the Governor for flipping out like this, but I would have lied if I claimed that I didn’t find it annoying. He wasn’t beyond reasonable, fortunately. After seeing that nobody else thought it wise to antagonize me further, he reluctantly ordered the guards to lower their guns and step back. Theodore took one of the vacated chairs, his posture tense and wary, but at least he wan’t outright condemning me like his father.

In the end, it all turned out really nicely. If someone looked through the windows right then, they would have barely been able to tell that half of the room wanted me dead.

“So, back to where we left off,” I said. “Where do I start? First of all, let me be honest with you: Governor Clavius, you got me.”

“W-What?” Clavius said. “What do you mean by that?!”

“You got me, as in, you won. Your plan was a complete success. You drew me away from the Dungeon by the pretense of arresting me, you ordered the City Watch back, and you let the city’s underground gangs raid the Refuge. By the time I got back, it was already too late. Gangsters were everywhere, stealing, killing, looking for the Dungeon Core. I rushed in and got cornered. Then they took the Core from me.”

Silence. They all stared at me as if I had grown a second head. I leaned in and grabbed another biscuit.

“Just to make things clear,” Theodore said, “are you saying that you don’t control the Dungeon anymore?”

“I don’t. Another Player has the control.”

“That’s—well, that’s concerning. Who is it?”

“The guy who grabbed the Core was called Amit, I believe. Average height, clerical robes, space bending and lightning powers. Ring any bells?”

“I don’t know him,” Theodore said. I looked around the table, but no one felt inclined to speak up.

“So here I am, admitting defeat,” I continued. “Our good Governor’s plan succeeded, the Dungeon Core was taken from me, and Fortram has sunk below the ground.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Clavius said, clenching his hands into fists. “D-Don’t you dare to insinuate that this was my plan!”

“It wasn’t?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Well, then whose plan was this? Because they got me real good, but I survived. I’m ready for round two.”

The old guys around the table murmured nervously. I fixed my eyes on the Governor, watching him squirm as he tried to come up with an answer. His nervousness was slowly turning into anger. Oh, he definitely did not like my meddling here. When he spoke next, his voice was trembling with quiet rage.

“I just want you to be gone, Reaper. Fortram was doing well up until the Mad Painter showed up. We‘ve been plagued by misfortune since then! Giants attacked and destroyed the lower ring, rumors claim that there are shades around, and now the entire city has turned into a Dungeon! Enough is enough! This wasn’t my fault. I didn’t plan for another Reaper to take the Dungeon Core from you. I just wanted you to be gone!”

The Governor’s shouted last words lingered in my ears. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, watching keenly, waiting for my reaction. I kept my face still, giving the Governor an even stare. I could have challenged him on what he said; I doubted that wanting me to be gone was the whole truth. I could also have argued that correlation was not causation. I could have defended myself, or if that didn’t go well, I could have pointed at the Governor’s flaws instead. It wouldn’t have mattered, though. I wasn’t here to prove my innocence. I wasn’t here to beg forgiveness.

“Well, that’s too bad,” I said. “We can’t always get what we want, Governor. I’m sorry that these tragedies happened, but I don’t intend to move elsewhere. Fortram is my home too, now. I know it sounds terrible, but the city needs me—and I need a chance to set things right.”

Clavius scowled at me. The ministers whispered to each other. I took another biscuit.

“Is that why you’re here, Mr. Shadeslayer?” Gowon asked. “Are you asking for our help to take the Dungeon back?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “I could reassume control anytime. I don’t need your help, just your approval.”

“Approval?”

“I wish to stay on the right side of the law, you know? So I’ll give you an offer. You let me be the Dungeon Master, and I’ll let you have a say in how I shape the city. New homes, better water sources, improvements to the industrial buildings, you name it. I would say this is a fair deal, considering that the alternative is to let some random Players do whatever they want.”

“Ridiculous!” Clavius said. “Why would we need your help? You think we won’t be able to—”

“Exactly. You won’t be able to.”

“The City Watch is—”

“Not enough. But even in the off-chance that the City Watch secures the Core – which would surely cost them many lives – there is no guarantee that you’ll be able to keep it. I’ve told you already, Governor: you need someone powerful on your side to defend the Core. Someone so powerful that even Reapers think twice about attacking him.”

“You seem to be confident that you’re that person,” Theodore said, “yet you lost the Dungeon once already. Can you even get it back from that other Reaper?”

“Sure,” I said. “Consider it done.”

“Just like that?”

“Last time I didn’t put much effort into defending it,” I said. “Why would I have? I’m not going to risk my life if the Governor just keeps sending thugs at me.”

“I was not sending thugs at you,” Clavius said. “Stop lying to my face, Reaper!”

I shrugged. “Anyway, with proper motivation, I’m sure I could do a much better job next time.”

“We could hire another Reaper to protect the Core for us,” Clavius spat. “We will get a Reaper who’s even stronger than you, Mad Painter!”

“Good luck with that,” I said. “Though keep in mind that until you find your special Reaper and hire them, whoever holds the Core can do whatever they want to your city.”

“We will keep that in mind,” Theodore said. “Isn’t that right, father? The sooner we get the Dungeon Core back and return Fortram to the surface, the better.”

“Eh, that one I’m not so sure about,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Getting the Core back is one thing, but it’s now bound to the World Seed. There’s a good chance that they cannot be separated ever again.”

“Then we are doomed either way,” Clavius said. “Fortram is done for.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” I said. “Wait until you see what I can do for the city! Give this a chance, and Fortram will prosper like never before. Tourists will flock to this place to see its wonders and miracles.”

“Tourists?” Theodore asked.

“Just a possibility that got stuck in my head,” I said. I looked around the table. “Alright, I’ll give you some time to think this through. My lawyer will contact you with the details tomorrow.”

“Lawyer?” Theodore asked.

“Yes, lawyer. My manager probably has someone in mind already.”

“Manager?”

“Now you’re just messing with me, Theodore. You think a Reaper cannot have these things? Of course I have a manager. I’m too busy doing important reaping stuff to attend meetings like this all the time.”

To demonstrate what I was speaking of, I stood up from my chair.

“Wait!” Clavius said. “Damn the Moon, Reaper, wait a moment! I didn’t agree to anything you said.”

“Didn’t agree yet, I know. Talk with your counselors first, Governor. That’s what they are for, aren’t they?”

“Mr. Shadeslayer,” Gowon said, his shaking fingers fumbling for something in his suit’s pocket. He pulled out a small card and pushed it toward me on the table. I snatched it up and turned it over. A business card.

“Now you know how to contact us,” Gowon said. “Or me, in particular.”

“Mr. Stormcaller!” Clavius said. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

“It’s just as I said. Mr. Shadeslayer will need to send his lawyer to someone, won’t he?”

“He won’t,” Clavius spat. “Not unless I decide so.”

“Alright,” I said, putting the card away. “Time is ticking. I’ll leave you now so that you can discuss how to manipulate me and profit from this. Don’t worry about invisibility tricks, gentlemen. I promise not to listen in on you.”

I then teleported myself to Soul Eater. The dagger was where I had left it, just outside the city hall. I had half-expected someone to swipe it while I was busy, but apparently everyone had been more concerned about running from the shade. The street was empty as I started to walk back to the World Seed. I didn’t get too far, however.

“Behind youuu!”

Ryder’s deranged scream was the only thing that alerted us to his presence. We crouched and turned on the heel of our mechanical leg just as the air stirred behind us and Ryder appeared. His black sword passed above our head. We retaliated by slashing Soul Eater across his forearm, but the dagger glanced off with a sharp clang; Ryder’s Soul Seeker was covering his entire sword arm.

We threw ourselves backward, tumbling once before getting back to our feet, our prosthetic leg buckling as we created some space between us and Ryder. We teleported Soul Eater to Nosy at the same time and shaped its blade into a second handle. Ryder drew his arm back for another swing.

“Wait!” I said, holding up my hands. “Are we really doing this now? ‘Cause I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

Ryder’s head twitched, but he didn’t strike—yet. The sword in his hand shifted until the entire thing looked as if it was an extension of his arm. A long, sharp, potentially deadly extension. He raised it high up, preparing for a downward swing. I almost sneezed from the unwashed smell that hit me. Ugh. Ryder was staring at me from behind locks of dirty hair, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“No,” he rasped after some deliberation. “You have no honor! You run. You die. Behind you!”

He disappeared only to reappear right behind us. We stepped to the side and spun around, letting his overhead swing pass by. He shifted his weight and we ducked, evading another swing. Between his shouting and his awfully telegraphed moves, dodging his attacks wasn’t too difficult. He was so slow. Perhaps we could kill him. Right here, right now.

“Yeah, no,” I said. “Sorry Ryder, but I don’t have time for this. Find someone else to bother, will you?”

I then teleported myself to Soul Eater. Nosy was chewing on one end of the weapon while I held the other handle. He growled playfully, having gotten used to my sudden appearances. I tugged on Soul Eater and Nosy bit down harder, tugging back.

“I swear there’s a dog lost in you somewhere,” I said, letting him take Soul Eater. “Who’s the good boy?”

The flame-red fur of Nosy’s fire form felt hot under my fingers as I scratched him behind his ears. The panther looked rather conflicted about my actions; he was clearly enjoying the scratches, but I could see that he would have wanted to play some more too.

“We’ll play later, alright? Right now I need to do more of that boring talking thing that we people do.”

I straightened up and looked around the room Nosy had chosen. I didn’t know this place, but the smooth stone walls were familiar. Dungeon-made. Nosy’s room looked bare and unfurnished, but it had a wide window through which I could see the dimly lit streets of the Refuge below. This house had to be somewhere in the gallery, higher than most other buildings.

I heard noises nearby. Footsteps and talking, coming from the next room. I walked over cautiously – hoping that Nosy hadn’t broken into someone else’s home – and found a room full of Devi. Six clones were in the middle of carrying a queen-sized bed, frame and mattress and all, to the other end of the room. The original Devi was keeping an eye on them while simultaneously talking to a pair of Thardos I didn’t know.

“No, we don’t need any of those. We don’t want attention, remember? The less people know we are here, the better.”

“The fewer people,” I corrected her as I walked closer. “Hey everyone. Everything going well?”

Devi was used to my sudden appearances too, so she barely glanced my way—but the two Thardos almost jumped out of their skin.

“P-Painter! Good evening!”

“Sorry to disturb you,” the other said, actually bowing to me.

“There’s no need to be so formal,” I said, then looked over to Devi. She had her eyes fixed on her clones as she made them lower the bed gently. I had a feeling that the only reason she carried the entire bed instead of assembling it here was to practice commanding her clones around. Her control over them was very impressive; I couldn’t imagine how she could focus on so many of them at the same time.

“Is this our new bed?” I asked.

“What does it look like?”

“Nosy’s playground.”

“Hmph,” Devi said, directing her clones to move the pieces of furniture from the side of the room closer to the bed. A night table here, a rug there, a mannequin with Devi’s armor over there. I stepped closer to her.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I whispered into her ear.

The clone carrying the mannequin stumbled and fell, then a clone carrying one of my paintings fell over the mannequin, dropping the picture. I gasped at the tragedy.

“It’s your fault,” Devi said. Another clone stumbled and trampled right over my painting. I nearly fainted.

“Are you kidding me, Devi? Stop this barbarism right now! Control fewer clones and stay clear from my painting!”

Devi stopped her clones at once. She then looked over to the pair of very quiet Thardos.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “We’re done for now. You should get out of here before things get violent.”

“Things are already violent! Look at my painting!”

The two Thardos obediently looked at it, then ran out of the house. I watched them go with a frown on my face.

“Do you trust them?”

“I do,” Devi said, walking over to my painting and picking it up. “Tora vouched for them, and I trust Tora.”

“Okay. Good enough, I suppose.”

I sat down on our new bed while Devi did the finishing touches. A clone dumped a pair of pillows into my lap. I set them aside, taking in our new home. It was hasty work, but we didn’t need more than that now. It seemed unlikely that we would live here for much longer than in our previous home; sooner or later one of our enemies would discover this place too.

“Jack visited while you were away.”

I looked at Devi. She was tense. Nervous.

“That’s odd,” I said. “What did he say?”

Devi busied herself with hanging her clothes in the wardrobe, her back turned to me.

“He doesn’t appreciate what you did to the city.”

“Ah. He threatened to kill me, didn’t he?”

“Mmm-hmm. Only if anyone died because of you.”

“Many people already did.”

“You know what I mean.”

I sighed. “I hope you didn’t threaten him back.”

She didn’t say anything. I was pretty sure she was already done with her clothes, but she kept rearranging them.

“Devi, you’re a member of the Rangers of Fortram. Please tell me that you didn’t needlessly antagonize its leader.”

“It’s not needless. I’m defending you.”

“Sure you are,” I said. “You’re doing the very thing that you hated all your life.”

She whirled around, eyes flashing.

“This is different.”

“Really?” I asked. “If a man did this to you, you’d call him overprotective. So why is it different when you do it?”

“Are you angry with me now?”

“Not at all,” I said. “Knowing that you’re looking out for me feels kind of heart-warming. I’m certainly not used to it, but I like it. I like it a lot.”

“Then—”

“It makes you a hypocrite though. I just wanted to let you know.”

“You’re weird, Randel. Why would you pick a fight with me if you like what I’m doing?”

“I see you’re ignoring that I just called you a hypocrite.”

“I see you’re ignoring my question.”

I smiled, ignoring her question. Devi huffed and turned away. She walked to a box full of her kitchen utensils and began to unpack them; apparently she hadn’t given up on her rocky journey toward becoming a master chef.

“Jack talked about something that I didn’t understand,” she said as she grabbed another box. “You should be careful with chocolate biscuits. They might not be good for your health. I don’t even know how to cook these chocolate biscuits. Do you know what he meant?”

My smile was gone, replaced by unease in the pit of my stomach.

“When did Jack say this?” I asked. “When did he visit, exactly?”

“Around the time I was bringing in the wardrobe, so … not long before you arrived. If you came just a little bit sooner, you would have met him. Why?”

I frowned. How? How did Jack know what I had been doing in the Governor’s office? We sifted through our memories for anything out of place but couldn’t come up with anything. We could draw conclusions, though. Jack had either put a tracker on us or he had the office under surveillance at all times. He also had some form of long-range communication method through which he was informed instantly. Aside from the World Seed’s Player messaging system, that kind of technology was extremely rare in this world.

“Randel?” Devi asked, looking at us with concern.

“He is good,” we said. “Really good. We already knew he was, but we underestimated him anyway.”

We had used up both of our Shadeform charges today. A reckless mistake. Jack would need a single nick on our skin to poison us—and that was only if he came after us with his daggers. If he could poison our food or drink, or the chocolate biscuits, he wouldn’t even need to go that far. We had arrogantly forgotten about him, and so he sent us a reminder.

“You’re possessing him again, aren’t you?”

I blinked, realizing only now that Devi had come over to sit beside me, watching my eyes.

“I was just thinking,” I said. “Zoned out a bit, I guess. That’s no cause of alarm, Devi. I zone out all the time.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s happening more and more often.”

Right then, her attitude reminded me of Sarah; she had often complained that I was too distracted. It was not a good reminder.

“Uh, okay. Sorry?”

“It’s not you who should apologize,” Devi said. “By the way, how was your meeting with the Governor? Did it involve chocolate biscuits?”

“It did, yes. Nice deduction.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Devi said with a smirk. “I became good at reading your mind because you never give linear answers.”

“Straight answers,” I said. “Well, I’m glad that my mysteriousness improved your deduction skills. As for the meeting with the Governor, I wanted to say that it went brilliantly … but now I’m not so sure. I feel like Jack is one step ahead of me, and perhaps he’s not the only one. Someone has the Governor under his thumb. Someone who wants me to be gone.”

Honestly, I felt like a fish out of water. A fish that had long ago tried its best to return to said water, except some people kept pushing him out. The shades pushed me to grab more power, Devi pushed me to be a leader, Stanley pushed my reputation to ridiculous heights, and recently even Erika pushed me to become something more.

It was a sham. What could I even possibly do against Players like Jack? I wasn’t a particularly powerful Player; a few teleportation tricks and the shades’ combat expertise wouldn’t save me for long. I was putting myself out there, but my name was built on lies and deceit. There were forces in this world—no, scratch that. There were forces in this city that could crush me with ease.

I must have zoned out again because the next thing I noticed was that Devi hugged me from behind. She needed no words to convey how she felt. She supported me. She trusted me. So much so that it almost made me sick. What had I done to deserve this? I now felt obligated to live up to her expectations—and I passionately hated to be obligated by anything or anyone.

Slowly and gently, I took one of her hands in mine and ran my fingertips over her dark blue skin. From the back of her hand to the inside of her wrist. I caressed the tattoos there, shaped like a pair of daggers. My Marks. So much stupid trust. I wanted to be angry at her, but I couldn’t.

I had been wrong. I was a fish out of the water, sure, but the rest of the metaphor didn’t quite fit. It wasn’t true that other people cast me out of the water. Devi, Stanley, the shades, everyone else—they weren’t just pushing me forward. They were pushing with me. And that, right there, made all the difference in the world.

For all it was worth, for perhaps the first time since my brother’s death, I was willing to push myself too.