Flashing a smile so sweet it was unpleasant, the man backed up towards the door, hands still held up, “I’ll tell them you’re shellshock-ridden conscripts.” 

“Uh-huh. Don’t bother calling a guardsman, too much attention,” the alchemist said, to which the sleazy one just quietly opened the door and slipped out.

“A-are you going to...?” the smaller one asked with the voice of a young girl, clearly fearing for her life.

“Kick you lot out of my fuckin’ store, yeah,” he admonished, not particularly eager to beat a child. “Get out, and don’t do this kind of shit ever again. Next time you won’t get off this easy, kid.”

The youth said nothing, instead just panickedly scrambling to get out. Once she was gone, Sigmund let out a long, deep sigh, the infernal glow fading out. Almost right afterward, a thunderous grumble sounded from his stomach.

“Let’s get these idiots out of here,” the historian sighed, bending down to grab the larger man’s arms, pulling him along the ground towards the door. Makhus did the same, grabbing the inconspicuous man’s arms and dragging him out front, making sure to do most of the work with his good arm.

They dragged the two men into a nearby back alley and just left them sitting propped up against the wall  As quickly and as quietly as they could, the two men returned to their store and locked it up as tightly as they could, leaving the key in the door and even placing a wooden wedge under it.

When they were certain the door was secure they simply returned to business as usual, retreating upstairs to decide what they’d do next over dinner.

“You sure we don’t want to call the guardsmen?” Sigmund questioned. He deftly cut up the remnants of the chicken whilst Makhus cleaned vegetables, the historian’s stomach gurgling almost constantly.

Makhus shook his head, arguing that, “If he was telling the truth and there really is a Pateirian mole in the senate, we’d just bring unwanted attention to ourselves.”

To normal civilians, such a home invasion would’ve been a harrowing experience. 

To the two veterans, it was an annoyance at most. 

Not because it was any less stressful, but because they were numb to it.

Sitting down against one of the chamber’s walls and pulling out the Tablet, Zelsys felt the thrumming warmth shoot up her arm all the way to the shoulder, more intense than usual. Even a few minutes after she had gotten out of the statue, the icy-hot feeling still persisted. The most intense of it was long gone, but the less intense it became, the more slowly it faded. Zel wondered if it was slower because there was less of the substance, and thus it took her body longer to break down and absorb the last remnants of it.

The device came to life, showing an unusual variation of the update message. 

SCANNING

UPDATING RECORD

LIBRARY EXCEPTION FOUND

RECOMPILING MNEMONIC RECORD

“I think it’s struggling to make sense of the Azoth’s effects,” Zef remarked as the message flickered in place for far longer than usual, a good half-minute. At last, it changed.

UPDATE SUCCESSFUL

It proceeded to show the usual attribute readout, at which point Zel swiped to the trait list. It had one new listing, colored in light purple. 

ENGINE OF RETRIBUTION

Type: Azothic Extract

Trigger: Variable

Effects: Dualism, Retributive Battery

Advancement: Exact Retribution

The description was lacking at best, and instead of the usual extra text at the bottom there was a phrase in yellow.

Mnemonic Record

Curious, she tapped on it. That familiar, warm buzzing washed down her scalp and upper back, and she understood.

“You were right,” Zel said, backing out of this detail readout and swiping to the techniques list. “The Tablet couldn’t properly compile the information into text, so it just left it as raw memory.”

“So… Now you know what it actually does?” the markswoman squinted quizzically.

Furrowing her brow, Zelsys murmured, “I… Think I do?”

She focused on recalling the raw knowledge that had just poured into her head, finding that she couldn’t quite put it into words. It was like a dream, fleeting and hard to capture. Tapping the button again let her catch some of the knowledge and put it to memory, just enough to actually gather a coherent explanation.

“It uh… The Dualism effect lets me change how other techniques work in two different ways, and…” she trailed off, tapping the button again. The third time was the charm, and her understanding finally clicked together, just as her body finished absorbing the infusion and the last remnants of that icy-hot feeling faded. She grinned, and explained the rest in simple terms.

“Alright, I finally get it,” she said, willing the Tablet to show her the technique listing for Engine of Retribution. It listed four techniques, grouped in pairs. They were unnamed, but names for them flickered into place whilst Zelsys continued to explain.

Zefaris was caught unprepared for the surprisingly thorough explanation that Zel gave, simplifying a doubtlessly complex intermingling of traits and techniques down to the idea of two alternate combat styles. The explanation was, however, filled with the sort of confidence and raw charm that only the chocolate-skinned amazon could exude, as far as Zefaris was concerned.

In Slayer Style, Rebound Pulse would siphon the energy of an attack to charge Retributive Battery, allowing Zelsys to just stop an attack dead and then hit back with her own strength, plus all the force behind the preceding attack. Zel supposed it could be called Siphoning Pulse for distinction.

On the other hand, Beast Style would cause Rebound Pulse to cover a much larger area and last longer with the same Fog investment. Instead of deflecting attacks it would make them slip off, drawing on the friction to charge Retributive Battery. This mode would also change how the battery would function, apparently rendering it into a much more literal Fulgur capacitor. This style’s altered defense could be distinguished as Graze Pulse.

Zelsys also mentioned that she felt like either style would probably influence how she fought, and that she wouldn’t know until she tried it.