"If the test requires remembering any kind of date, I'll be in trouble," Ashkan remarked with a rueful grin. "I can barely recall yesterday."

  Shaye laughed and shook her head. "I'm sure it won't focus on that entirely. Perhaps you'll get extra points for remembering half a date."

  "Professor Neyllpa seems like the type to have an odd sense of humour," Cassius chimed in. "Eccentric, maybe, but not unfair. She'll likely give us a bit of leeway, though not too much."

  Lilwen nodded. "It will be fine. We should be prepared for it, though, if we want to do well."

  The five of us were winding through the Academy's hallways towards Magical Theory after Senior Magic Study. We had a quiz today that would test us on what we'd learned during the first month of our second semester. It was a relatively small exam compared to those that would follow as the year wore on, but Professor Neyllpa had insisted that this was an important one, and it had the potential to influence our standing in the course. As if I needed another thing to stress about.

  I was just about to cross the threshold into the classroom when I felt a buzzing sensation on my left pinky finger. I glanced down at the gold band around it as a jolt of panic went through me. I wore my League ring almost every day, mostly because I never knew when a new mission might be issued, and the insignia on it was hidden unless a signal came through. It always seemed like the League did a good job of keeping non-members oblivious to its existence. Thus, I wasn't too concerned with hiding that piece of jewelry. But now was definitely not the time for me to be summoned.

  My hand grabbed Ashkan by the arm before he could enter the room. The force with which I did it must've surprised him because he looked over at me with wide eyes and almost stumbled.

  "Whoa, what?" he whispered, righting himself.

  I waited until the other three had moved out of earshot. Then, I spoke quietly and quickly. "League message. Check your ring."

  His gaze flickered down to my pinky. Some colour drained from his face as his eyes shot back up. "Now?"

  "Yeah."

  He swore under his breath, then loosened his tie and stuck a hand down his collar, retrieving his own League ring from its cord. The insignia was lit red, and it pulsed with the intensity of the incoming message.

  "Do we go?" I asked. "Either way, we have to answer. We can't just leave them hanging."

  Ashkan gave me a helpless look before glancing past me to the class. Shaye had noticed our delay and was eyeing us curiously. "Bloody... I can't this time. I can't. Niista is meeting with her friend after work, so I have to take Wendyll to his fencing class tonight. And then I have to make dinner, and help him with his school project, and..." He ran a hand over his face. "I just... I can't. They have to understand that I can't. Not this time."

  "It's okay. I'll go," I said immediately.

  "No!" he blurted out, then blinked rapidly. "I mean... No, don't put yourself at risk. It's not worth it. The hunters will be fine without us. They'll have to be."

  I frowned. "We can't just abandon them, Ashkan. There's a reason we were recruited, and now summoned, and if it's as important as we think it is, then they need us."

  "Not necessarily. Perl replaces us with other hunters if we're unavailable."

  "But we're not regular hunters," I reminded him. "Perl only calls us if it's urgent enough to warrant our...'special' skill sets. Which I still don't see how we're that much better than the others, but...still."

  He sighed. "I know, I know..."

  "So, why would they call on us if they didn't really need...us?" I pressed, stressing the last word.

  "Right, but..." He hesitated. "...We've always gone together. It's been either the two of us or neither of us. And they've always made do without us before."

  I bit my lip. "They have. But we were there to face some really tough Inkbloods, like Tarkus, and Nulènne, and Xerekith the marksman, and then there was... Oh, what was that guy's name with the really old sword?"

  "Daerett," Ashkan supplied. "Yeah, he was more of a coward than an Inkblood. He surrendered almost right away."

  "Yeah. But we already missed the arrest of Jorvati, and Elieum, and the Haw-Pasv triplets, and–"

  "Exactly. We weren't needed."

  "Yes, but..." I paused, searching for a different argument. "What if this time is different? What if the target is someone especially powerful, and it's too dangerous for a standard team to handle?"

  His brows knitted. "All the more reason for you not to go. You can't risk yourself on some reckless whim, Brie."

  "It's not a whim," I replied firmly. "Look, I know you've got a lot going on, and I understand that you can't go. It's totally okay. But I can. I'll skip the test and take it next week instead. Just tell Kadia that I'm not feeling well enough to train today. That should keep her from asking questions. As for my parents... I'll figure it out later. They'll probably just think I've gone to hang out with Shaye."

  He stared at me for several long moments, uncertain. I could see him wavering.

  "Come on. Don't you think they'd rather one of us than neither?"

  "That's not the point..."

  I insisted, "But it is! And it's fine, really. I'll be okay. I won't try anything crazy. I'll stick with the team. You know I can do that."

  "I know," he relented, combing his fingers through his hair. "...I'm not going to convince you otherwise, am I?"

  I gave him a soft smile. "Nope."

  The air around us seemed to grow a tad heavier. It wasn't an uncomfortable pressure, though. Rather, it felt familiar, like a weighted blanket that'd been draped over my shoulders. A reminder of all the times I'd stood by his side, and the times he'd done the same for me.

  "...Would you promise me something?" he asked quietly.

  "That depends."

  "If things start going south, and the situation turns out to be a lot worse than you're expecting, or you feel like you're in over your head... Promise me that you'll turn back. I don't care how close you are to the end, or what kind of damage control will be needed. If it's going to jeopardize you, don't do it. Just walk away."

  I paused. "Seriously? But it's–"

  "Yes, seriously," he interrupted, a hint of sternness creeping into his tone. "Promise me. You're not a fool, and you're not stupid, so don't act like one."

  My head tilted to the side as I considered his request.

  Ashkan stared me down, eyes frigid, daring me to defy him. But beneath that steely exterior, I saw the worry, the genuine fear for my safety, lurking just behind the fa?ade. It made me want to promise him all the more, but I had a feeling that it wouldn't be the easiest thing to do. I knew myself. I knew that the adrenaline rush would push me forward, and the drive to set things right would make me stay. And I was certain that, should the worst happen, there'd be no stopping me from doing whatever I could to protect others, to aid others. It was simply who I was. Kadia had helped me suppress the impulse, but not the instinct itself.

  In the end, the only thing I could do was be honest.

  "I...can't promise that," I said slowly.

  "Why not?"

  "Because..." I paused. "Because you and I are more similar than we realize, and I don't think either of us is capable of doing something like that. Not entirely. I know I couldn't stop you, so why would you expect me to do the same?"

  He looked like he was about to argue, but his mouth stayed closed. I caught the tiniest hint of a smile. There and gone in the blink of an eye.

  "...Fine," he murmured. "But promise me that you'll try."

  I grinned and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "I promise that I'll try to do as you asked. Even if it kills me. Happy?"

  He gave me a flat expression. "Not really."

  "Good," I retorted. Then, I saluted him with two fingers like we always did before a mission. "No regrets?"

  "Never," he replied with a faint smirk, mimicking the gesture. "Just..." He inhaled; exhaled. "...Stay safe. Okay?"

  I nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe."

  "Stop that."

  "Stop worrying."

  I gave Ashkan one last smile before heading back down the hall towards the stairs. He stood where he was for several seconds before stepping into the classroom. I hoped that Professor Neyllpa wouldn't grill him on where I was or why I hadn't shown up. But I never skipped classes, so I was quite confident she'd accept my absence without a fuss. I'd deal with my parents and Kadia later if needed. For now, I had bigger problems to deal with.

  As I hastily slipped my coat on and closed my locker, my League ring started to buzz again in an unfamiliar pattern. I glanced down at the insignia. It flashed blue once, twice, then back to red again. Confused, I pressed on the band with my thumb. It released a pulse of light into the air that solidified into a translucent orb that rippled like mercury.

  Perl's face appeared in the orb a second later. It looked like they were somewhere outside, their hood up to keep rain from drenching their hair.

  "Commander?" I asked. "Since when have you been able to contact me through this thing?"

  "It's new! A few of our technicians have been working on a few different things since last I saw you. What do you think?" they chirped, sounding bubbly as usual.

  "Uh, it's cool. Really cool. I'm guessing you're not in Winithas right now?"

  They shook their head. "Afraid not. But this thing has amazing range! I'm in Mikagg, Noslux, handling some obliviating business for an accidental breach of our secrecy. Don't worry, no Inkbloods. Just some inebriated merchants that stumbled into a private meeting at the wrong moment. It was kind of a big mess... Anyway, the signal was a little patchy in some spots, but for the most part it's stable. We should really see if the techs can create some sort of universal network that will let us contact all hunters at the same time. Imagine if we could use this thing for emergency messages, like evacuations and such..."

  I politely cleared my throat and pushed through the Academy's entrance gates, trying to keep my voice down. "So, what's the new mission?"

  Perl blinked, their head tilting to the side as if they'd suddenly forgotten why they were talking to me in the first place. "Oh! Yes. Apologies. I know it's sudden, but there's an urgent situation going on in Hezura, and I'd love you two to assist. Are you free?"

  "I am, but Ash– Deadbolt has other commitments tonight," I told them as I hurried down the street. "Family stuff. It's important. He sends his apologies, but it's going to have to be just me this time."

  "Ah." The disappointment was clear on their face, but they shook it off in seconds. "Not a problem! I'll give you the rundown. Should only take a minute."

  I ducked into the most deserted alley I could find downtown as I waited for Perl to continue.

  "There have been reports of Rotted activity to the southwest, in Nanbel, Lefai. There's a massive laboratory and research complex used mostly by scientists to synthesize new medications. Some of the local hunters were already there, but they've been overwhelmed, and a few are hurt. So we're sending in international reinforcements. Your job will be to protect the lab workers and fight off any Rotted you see. No special orders. Just contain the damage. Got it?"

  "Got it. Sounds pretty standard."

  "It should be!" Perl confirmed, though they looked a little apprehensive. "Well... As standard as anything related to Inkbloods can be. Halo, Dazz, and Steelshot should already be waiting somewhere near the rendezvous point for you. Have fun!"

  "Wait, before you go. Did you ever find any information about Vhinrud in the archives?" I blurted out. "Any old reports? Any references or anything? Anything that might hint what his whole deal is?"

  Their scales dimmed in colour. "Nothing so far, but we're still looking. The name 'Vhinrud' hasn't popped up at all. It doesn't seem like him and the League were ever in contact before. Or if we were, his identity wasn't revealed to us, and no records have been kept about it. His name doesn't exist in the databases that we have access to. It's as if he just...made it up. It's all a big mystery right now."

  I pursed my lips and nodded. "Right. Okay."

  "Sorry we can't be more helpful," they added with a frown.

  "Don't be," I assured them. "Thanks for checking. Oh, can I ask one last thing?"

  "Of course."

  I shifted my weight between my feet. "One of my trainers mentioned recently that making eriterg involves pegasus bone marrow. He doesn't buy it because of that. I've just been wondering if there's any truth to that..."

  "Yes and no," they answered after a brief pause. "It's illegal to slaughter pegasi to obtain their bone marrow for use in the production of various elixirs. There's an entire subculture of black-market sellers that trade in all manner of poached items for potion components. But the legal route involves extracting bone marrow from adult pegasi that consent to the process. Alchemists ensure it's voluntary and painless."

  "And the League gets its eriterg shipments through that method?" I clarified.

  Perl's expression soured a little. "Well, we do our best. The League isn't exactly seen as a law-abiding entity – we're not really seen at all, actually – so we have to do a lot of string-pulling and under-the-table arrangements to get supplies. There are times when the sellers we work with don't give us what we pay for. Or their quality isn't what we expected. Or their methods turn out to be...less than morally spotless." They sighed, rolling their shoulders back. "It's my primary duty to facilitate hunters' efforts by making sure they have everything they need for missions. That said, sometimes, there's simply no better way. If I could always supply hunters with the cleanest materials possible, I would. But we can't be perfect."

  "Right..." I replied, letting the matter drop. It didn't sit perfectly with me, but there wasn't much else to do about it. "I understand. Thanks for clearing that up, Commander. I should go."

  "Sure. Safe travels, Grey. Best of luck."

  With that, they gave me one last wave and signed out, and the orb dissolved into wisps of misty light that drifted off on the breeze. I checked that I wasn't being watched before teleporting to Nanbel.

  My uniform and weapons materialized onto my body the instant my feet hit solid ground. The second thing that registered was the warm, humid air, so different from the weather in Alselian. A light wind blew through my hair. I'd never been to Hezura before, so I had a hard time keeping my eyes off everything as I surveyed my new environment.

  As per usual, I'd arrived in a vacant spot with no one around to witness my abrupt appearance. A quick glance confirmed that my surroundings were mostly residential. Small houses built out of wood and stone, with small gardens and fences around them, lined the main road. There were a few steeper streets on either side that seemed to lead up a slope to the centre of town. The architecture reminded me of Mediterranean styles I'd seen on Earth, mixed with ancient East Asian aesthetics. In the far distance, hills and sand dunes stretched on to the horizon, all under an orange-tinted sky. Nightfall would be approaching soon. The sun was setting quickly, its dying rays painting the town and dunes a brilliant, golden yellow.

  I shook my head. Right, no sightseeing. I'm on a job.

  I'd only taken a few steps down the narrow, empty side street when a sharp whistle sounded somewhere above me. I turned to see Dazz waving from a rooftop on my right, his braid swaying in the breeze.

  "Hey, newbie," he greeted cheerfully. "Glad you could make it."

  I frowned at him and crossed my arms. "Newbie? Really?"

  He gestured for me to join him on the roof. "It's a compliment, believe it or not."

  A rush of air surged under my feet as I shot up the building. "Isn't being a newbie an insult?"

  "It can be." Dazz chuckled. "But in this case, it just means I'm excited to see you in action. I somehow haven't yet."

  "Then let's not keep you waiting," I replied, tipping my brimmed hat lower over my eyes.

  The resulting grin he flashed at me was wide, somewhat brazen, and almost as bright as the glare reflecting off his round sunglasses. "Now we're talking!"

  He donned his face scarf and launched himself over to the next house. I followed him, and soon enough we were bounding through the sky, leaping from roof to roof towards the compromised laboratory. Wind whistled past my ears.

  The lab was only a few blocks away from where I'd initially landed. We both dropped down into the shadow of an adjacent building, and a pair of hunters who were huddled together immediately straightened.

  Halo gave a small nod in my direction. If it weren't for his heterochromia, I probably wouldn't have recognized him. "Welcome, Grey."

  Steelshot inclined her head as well. She was easier to recognize even with her lower face and head covered, thanks to her brawny physique. Few hunters could wield the kinds of weapons she did with as much ease as her. "Thanks for coming."

  "No problem," I said. "Perl filled me in. What's the plan of action?"

  The complex was just about overflowing with Rotted. After first encountering the creatures during the gemstone mission in Shialumura, I'd only seen a handful of them while on League assignments. It was safe to say that I much preferred them behind the bars of the Chasm. They weren't necessarily difficult to deal with; in fact, I found them fairly easy to destroy, unlike Inkbloods. Light magic was the key. They were just very aggressive. Very, very aggressive. It took little for them to charge you in droves. And when they were focused on a target, nothing would stop them. Nothing short of annihilation, at least.

  Thus, the main plan was simple: extermination. Almost all of the laboratory staff had been evacuated before our arrival. After getting the rest to safety, the only thing left to do was to clear out the creatures.

  "Has the perimeter been secured yet? Any reports?" Dazz asked, wiping black blood off his bladed mace.

  "Halo and I checked in with the local hunters already. The entire area is locked down tight. No sign of any Rotted entering Nanbel," Steelshot reported. A slab of a greatsword was perched across her shoulders.

  He complained, "Then where the blazes do these things keep coming from...?!"

  I frowned as I refreshed the enchantment on my blades. "Maybe there's a portal somewhere? Or...a hole in the ground?"

  "Could be." Halo looked troubled by the prospect. He gripped his harpe tighter. "Let's keep moving."

  The four of us continued deeper into the lab. We went floor by floor, eliminating the remaining Rotted, leaving behind only splatters of black goop in our wake. Once hit with enough light magic, they bubbled and melted away. It looked somewhat like how slashed Inkbloods expired. The resemblance made me feel a little uneasy, but I couldn't put my finger on why.

  The underground heart of the facility eventually provided an answer to my question. We were navigating what seemed to be one of the many chemistry labs, running through hallways lined with test tubes and monitors and other scientific equipment, when a chilling scream rang out. Our heads snapped towards the source at the same time. I thought it might've been a lost scientist.

  Down the hall, a lanky man was stumbling around inside of a large glass chamber. A sign over the entrance read, 'Biolab 4C – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY'. He looked like he was panicking and had locked himself inside. He was pacing around and occasionally clutching his head and shaking it, as if fighting something. His skin was deathly pale.

  "Sir?" Halo called, stepping forward.

  The man didn't seem to hear us, instead collapsing onto his knees with another agonizing cry. Black ink bled through his skin like veins. It started at his temples and spread through the rest of him, creeping across his hands and the visible skin of his arms. His entire body seized up and began to shake. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat, and I swore I could see his teeth elongating and sharpening in front of my eyes. He stretched his neck out to the sky, allowing me to note the barely visible Inkblood brand on his throat.

  None of us wanted to intervene. I could tell we all were thinking the same thing. The realization dawned on us in tandem.

  Dazz sucked in a breath. "No..."

  The man – or rather, the creature – lowered its head. I knew from experience that its eyes would now be empty. Cold. Black. Soulless. I watched it as it straightened up and stood to its full height. It turned in a full circle to observe the chamber, before finally locking onto us through the window. Although several alarms were ringing out through the complex, the containment rooms were still securely locked. We weren't in any real danger. But the sight still put all of us on high alert.

  That wing of the facility was full of other biolabs and chambers. Some were empty. Some held one or two Rotted. Only a handful contained Inkbloods in various stages of the infection process. But every time, they were Inkbloods. Never normal people. Their tattoos were always visible to a degree, and they were all dressed in plain tunics and pants. They stared at us from behind their glass cages; some curious, others expressionless. I wasn't sure how long they'd been kept there. But I was more focused on the implications of what I was seeing.

  Dazz spoke the words first. "An incubation lab...? They're being turned into Rotted...?"

  "They were coming from the inside," Halo murmured with a grimace.

  "I thought Rotted were just people who dove too far into dark magic," I thought out loud. "And their bodies couldn't handle it, so it caused them to start rotting. They turned into...these creatures..."

  Steelshot looked like she wanted to punch someone. "So did I. Inkbloods aren't immune to dark magic, but...there's definitely something else going on here."

  "Maybe there's some kind of medicine they've been extracting from Rotted. A poison or something? Or something with their brainwashing tattoos?"

  "Whatever the reason is, this is way bigger than us. Need to report it back to the Commander."

  Dazz glanced over the rim of his sunglasses with wide eyes. "Ransack time?"

  "Scavenge time," Halo corrected. "And let's not stick around for long."

  It was clear to us then that the Rotted infiltration was actually a Rotted breakout. There was no telling if it'd been planned or accidental. But as we raided the lab's filing cabinets and desks for anything useful, we started to have a few suspicions. There was an unusual amount of research on the topic of dark magic. They were studying Rotted, and likely Inkbloods as well. That wasn't too surprising on its own. Dark magic had become an epidemic as of late, with Inkbloods clawing their way the top of the food chain. Many researchers had been studying ways to reverse its effects. But what stopped me dead in my tracks was a single report with a familiar insignia stamped at the bottom of the page.

  The emblem of the Winithinian Royal Court; King Typhis' own symbol. There was no mistaking it. The paper I was holding in my hands had been sent by his people. Naturally, there was no text on it, save for the address information printed across the top. I was sure it'd been charmed with a concealment enchantment, which meant nobody except the intended recipient could read it. Standard procedure for highly classified or confidential information. I'd never be able to discern what was actually written. I couldn't tell if that was a blessing or a curse.

  Halo caught a glimpse of it over my shoulder. "Is that the King's seal, mate?"

  "It is." I held it up. "What the hell is a piece of his personal correspondence doing here...?"

  "Someone on his end must've been messaging with someone here about Rotted or Inkbloods..." He rubbed the stubble on his chin and frowned. "I'm sure the Commander would want to see that. We might be able to crack the concealing spell."

  I handed it over without protest. "All yours."

  "Too bad no one will ever believe we found that here," Dazz scoffed from nearby. "'You just planted it there', they'd say... The King and his doormats..."

  We kept searching for a while, but no more evidence turned up. Nothing more was found that related to any royals. I hoped that letter was just a fluke. It was hard to believe that King Typhis had anything to do with this mess. But it was also hard to believe that this facility was only about making medicine. I couldn't shake the feeling that there were plenty of missing puzzle pieces. And as much as I wanted to dig deeper and get answers, we didn't have the time for it. I needed to prioritize the job and move on.

  Soon, we heard police bells chiming out from above ground. A small force of local law enforcement had finally arrived to help secure the facility, and assist with evacuation and clean-up efforts. That was usually our cue to head home, since hunters didn't generally interact with police. We couldn't risk getting arrested. It wasn't uncommon for experienced League members to get wanted posters of their own plastered on city walls alongside Inkblood bounties and regular criminals. It was impossible to keep the League's existence fully hidden from everybody, since we were so active around the world, so we only resorted to obliviating when something particularly incriminating was witnessed – like someone's mask coming off, or a civilian stumbling into a headquarters. Plus, the sketches were always hilariously similar because of our disguises. But we needed to get out before the police discovered that a group of masked strangers had been combing through private property.

  An ear-splitting explosion suddenly rattled the ground. The blast came from an adjacent sector. All four of us cursed aloud. My heart immediately shot up to my throat as I prepared to become face-to-face with a troop of armed constables. However, what appeared down the hall instead was a sight even more anxiety-inducing than an angry mob of enforcers.

  Balgaur.

  He was standing alongside some accomplice at the far end of the corridor. The man beside him was lanky and pale. He looked more like a regular criminal, but his throat was nonetheless protected by a thick metal collar like an Inkblood. Stringy brown hair framed a narrow, vaguely smug face. Balgaur, on the other hand, was still just as menacing as before, dressed in all black. He had his usual array of knives sheathed across his body. Even from far away, I could still see the rage and hate smouldering in his dark eyes. He was seething. The two had just emerged from a giant burrow in the wall.

  Dazz gawked at the newcomers. "Well. Shite."

  Halo was staring at Balgaur intently, but seemed otherwise composed. "I think we've overstayed our welcome."

  I wasn't as calm about the situation as I would've liked. Balgaur's eyes met mine for an instant. That's all it took for his sneer to turn into an outright, vicious grin. There was no way he recognized me. The disguise and the dim light had to be throwing him off. But it still didn't make my heart settle.

  "Well, well... If it isn't you asinine mollycoddles with the hats. You're not looking too well," he drawled with a harsh, gravelly voice. The other man at his side snickered.

  Steelshot cracked her knuckles. "Don't flatter yourselves."

  "What business do you have here?" Halo demanded.

  Balgaur raised a scarred eyebrow. "The real question is, what business do you have here, eh? Poking your noses where they don't belong, like a bunch of good-for-nothin' cretins."

  Dazz tilted his sunglasses downwards, giving him a look. "Says the felon..."

  "Actually," his companion chimed in, "I'd say the real question is why this so-called government-endorsed medicinal lab is experimenting on our brethren like they're no different than swine. And then turning them into monsters to terrorize helpless civilians."

  Halo narrowed his eyes. "That's what we're trying to find out. So, please step aside and let us go back to doing our job."

  The lankier man took a step forward. "Or?"

  "Or we'll throw you in prison alongside him."

  I shifted my weight and adjusted the grip on my swords, prepping to engage. A battle was starting to look inevitable. We couldn't leave without a fight. But the police weren't going to give us a free pass. The thought of them catching me or one of the other hunters in the middle of the brawl made my chest tighten.

  My worries were cut short, however, as Balgaur's fist shot out and collided with the glass wall of one of the containment chambers beside him. Dark magic swirled around his knuckles. The barrier shattered like a mirror, allowing the Inkblood inside to tumble out. The woman looked absolutely bewildered. She blinked as she got to her feet and glanced at Balgaur. A moment of stillness passed. And then all hell broke loose.

  Any imprisoned Inkbloods nearby that hadn't yet transformed into Rotted were promptly freed by Balgaur's spells. Like wild dogs who'd finally been unleashed after ages in captivity, they immediately sprung into action and began causing havoc. Glass shards went flying everywhere. It happened so quickly that it was impossible to stop the initial jailbreak. It didn't help that the lanky man – whom Balgaur called Koth – kept us occupied while his cohort wreaked chaos in the background. He was one of the most proficient mages I'd ever seen in my life. His dark magic was so fluid and well-controlled. The assault was simply relentless.

  "Watch out!" I yelled, yanking Dazz backwards. A purple orb came hurtling at him.

  His mace just barely intercepted another volley in time. "Cheers!"

  Steelshot was quick to intervene. With a yell, she charged at Koth with her greatsword. He just barely avoided her. While his attention was temporarily divided, Halo took the opportunity to engage. It was four against two. The odds should have been in our favour. But we had underestimated their ferocity. And how ruthless they would be.

  Balgaur was nothing short of terrifying in battle. His every strike was delivered with such brutality that even his accomplices were driven to evade him. I swore I saw him hit an Inkblood escapee or two in the midst of his rampage, but they just got right back up again. They had no weapons, but like a horde of zombies, they were happy to fight tooth and nail instead. One even jumped on my back. I reached behind me to grab the guy by the arm and flip him over. His face hit the ground hard with a crunch, and then I slashed across his throat, allowing the curse to melt his body.

  By that point, I could already tell the tide had turned against us. Balgaur's onslaught had forced us farther back. Dazz and Steelshot were on one end of the hallway with Halo and I on another end. My lungs burned. Every time I inhaled, the acrid stench of dark magic singed my nostrils. There was a knot in my stomach as I realized I was losing stamina, and losing my chance to take down the enemy.

  We weren't the only ones struggling to keep up. Koth's face was screwed up in concentration. I noticed he was beginning to slow down, his arms starting to shake as he launched more and more shadows at us. I ducked into a murky corner to try to catch my breath for a moment. By some miracle, nobody seemed to notice me slipping away. The freed Inkbloods were problematic in numbers, but not very clever or physically strong, so it was relatively easy to dispatch them with proper maneuvering and teamwork. We were finally putting Balgaur and Koth on the defensive.

  I reached for my revolver and cocked the hammer, taking aim at Koth. There had to be an opening eventually. Surely the strain of throwing such complex spells was too much for anyone to handle for too long. Then, I realized there was a pattern in the way he was casting. He attacked for about ten seconds and then shielded for two. No doubt that would be just enough time for me to land a few rounds into his skull, if I could puncture said shield.

  Counting down under my breath, I watched him unleash one of his barrages, which Dazz and Halo expertly countered. Steelshot was busy mowing down swaths of Inkbloods while trying to corner Balgaur. My hands trembled slightly as I anticipated Koth's next two-second break. That was it. That was my chance. I had to stay focused. My mind ran through its usual routine.

  Stare through the pistol sights, align the middle post with the target, anticipate muzzle rise, breathe. Exhale, fire, recoil.

  I watched Koth raise a hand to summon a barrier – right before Dazz rushed him from behind and swung his weapon like a baseball bat, breaking his concentration. Halo dove into the fray to join him. Putting opportunity above perfection, I pulled the trigger. The familiar, silenced puff of a suppressed shot rang out.

  My bullet of light landed. Unfortunately, it wasn't the perfect shot I'd been aiming for. Instead, it hit Koth's left arm, just below the shoulder. He jerked sharply to the side with a yelp. I dashed out of the shadows, leaping over a decaying Inkblood body to close in. Balgaur was somewhere in that chaos, too. Steelshot was still furiously exchanging blows with the hulking man. She'd surely accumulated some injuries by now. But I kept my eyes on Koth.

  I made it through a small group of enemies, ducking and dodging strikes with all the proficiency I'd accumulated over the months. And then finally, I was on him. The second he looked over, I grabbed him by the front of his tunic.

  "You missed," he spat, glaring down at me. His left arm hung limp at his side.

  "Not by much," I retorted.

  He moved his hand out to stab me with an impromptu spell, but I first jammed my elbow into the bullet wound. The bone-chilling screech he let out told me it hurt. And then I swiftly kicked the inside of his knee, forcing him to the floor. The barrel of my revolver pressed against his temple in a flash.

  Halo and Dazz were almost done clearing out and slicing the last of the escaped Inkbloods. Steelshot was still occupied, keeping Balgaur at bay. She seemed to have it under control. At least for now.

  Koth laughed. "Go on, then."

  "I want answers, not your ugly head."

  "Is there a difference...?"

  I drove the tip of the gun harder against his skull, causing him to wince.

  "What makes you think I'm going to talk?" he demanded through gritted teeth.

  My thumb clicked the switch that changed the rounds in my revolver from magical bullets to regular ones. I wasn't exactly sure what kind of emotions I had running through my veins. Anger, pain, a rush from the battle? Something like adrenaline and hatred. "You'll spill something either way. It's your choice if that something is information or blood."

  Sweat beaded down the side of Koth's face.

  "This compound is full of them, isn't it?" I interrogated. "Inkbloods. Rotted. What are they being used for?"

  The mage froze for a moment. Not for any dramatic effect; he actually hesitated. Like he was unsure if he should speak or not.

  I could hear police voices echoing out from above us. Only a floor or two separated us from them. My window of opportunity was starting to vanish. "Well? Start talking."

  His lip curled. "Listen, girlie. I'm not responsible for whatever mad plot this place has got going on. I'm just here to free my brethren. Some of us don't deserve the punishments we're subjected to. So why don't you get that gun away from me and go home before you wake up in a ditch somewhere?"

  For whatever reason, something came over me. Some combination of rage and indignance flared up. I holstered my revolver and instead smashed the hilt of a twinblade against his head, knocking him out instantly. He slumped to the side. After that, I took a minute to conjure some golden ropes to restrain him. Koth's metal collar caught the light and gleamed as I worked. Just in case he'd need to be eliminated quickly at any point in the near future, I also used my magic to crack it open with a snap. And that's when I noticed something was wrong.

  I blinked a few times to make sure my vision wasn't tricking me. My stomach sank with the realization that his skin was bare. There wasn't any curse visible on Koth's throat; no tattoo, no mark, no dark ink, nothing. It was completely normal. I couldn't even see any evidence of the blackened veins that Inkbloods always had. I would've checked his eye colour too, if not for the fact that they were shut. Maybe I would've been clued in that he wasn't actually a real Inkblood if the lighting hadn't been so dim. Or if he wasn't working alongside a real one.

  My breathing became shaky. There was a sudden heaviness in my chest. I'd just shot and knocked out a regular citizen. A criminal, maybe, but he wasn't an Inkblood. He was just a normal man, not that much older than me. He wasn't under Vhinrud's control. The more I thought about it, the more horrified I became. What if I'd killed him by mistake? What if I'd permanently injured him? What if I'd just put him in a coma?

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I felt sick. This wasn't what I'd wanted at all. Inkbloods weren't real beings; that was their whole deal. They were undead. They didn't count. Remembering that was how I could deal with it. The only way I could sleep at night and know that what I was doing was permissible, because they weren't technically people anymore. So if I'd just hurt this living man... What did that make me?!

  "Oi! What's the holdup?!" Dazz called, ducking beneath Balgaur's punch.

  Halo added, "Still breathing, Grey?"

  Steelshot was starting to falter against Balgaur's strength. I shook off the horror and shame, and pushed myself to my feet.

  But the four of us didn't get much of a chance to finally apprehend Balgaur before about ten officers came sprinting into the hallway.

  "HALT!"

  "Stand down! Weapons down, NOW!"

  "On the ground! Put your hands over your heads!"

  I moved to surrender, but the other hunters had different plans. Balgaur turned and bolted towards the cratered tunnel he'd created earlier, not bothering to check on Koth. I didn't even have time to react. My senses were already overloaded with the noise, and it took my brain a second too long to realize that he was fleeing. The next thing I knew, Steelshot was sprinting after him. Dazz quickly followed suit.

  Upon noticing, the officers yelled out in alarm and brandished their firearms. Bullets whistled past. I was too tired to throw up a shield quite fast enough. One grazed the tip of my left ear and blew a hole through the brim of my hat. Blood instantly started trickling down the side of my neck. The ringing was extreme. But the pain hadn't even registered yet when Halo grabbed me by the arm and cast a spherical barrier of his own around us, narrowly saving us from another barrage. We ran down the tunnel after Dazz.

  The rest was a blur of panic and chaos. I just focused on trying to catch up. It felt like everything around me had become a whirlwind. My feet slammed into the concrete, pushing me forwards with every bit of speed I had. The police weren't far behind. Halo kept us shielded until we finally emerged from the underground tunnel and spilled into the main floor of the lab. On the bright side, there were no more Rotted or Inkbloods in sight. But we now had to worry about the very angry officers with guns.

  The ground floor of the facility was still in absolute shambles. Papers littered the floors, desks had been toppled and thrown around, and most of the light fixtures were out. There was an acrid, smoky scent in the air that stung my nose despite my face scarf. As I sprinted for the nearest exit, I noticed the increase of black ichor smeared and splattered around. It made the tiles look like a painter's palette of blood and tar. The amount of stickiness under the soles of my boots made my gait uneven. There definitely wasn't this much gore in here when we'd entered.

  Halo suddenly jerked me to the right and shoved me into an office behind some lab equipment, then flattened himself against the wall next to me. Dazz was crouched around a corner on my other side. Steelshot had already found cover in the back of the small room. I caught a glimpse of Balgaur's hulking form farther ahead, stomping towards the exit staircase. It seemed he knew his best option was to retreat.

  I let my body sink down onto the cold tile as quietly as possible as I tried to catch my breath. About half of the officers swarmed through the main lab space in search of us. There was an escalating amount of arguing, but I couldn't quite make out their words. It wasn't long before they spotted Balgaur first.

  "Stop! Get down on the ground!" one of the officers commanded.

  Gunshots rang out. Several panicked shouts echoed through the room. Then, a series of sudden, resounding cracks and explosions. The ground shook. The remaining lights flickered overhead. The entire facility trembled for a few moments. More gunshots mingled with sounds of struggle and spellcasting. The office we were hiding in had a large window beside the door, but I didn't dare stand up to peek out at what was happening.

  "If that maniac stays locked in battle with the police," Halo murmured, "we might be able to catch him by rerouting through the next floor. There's still a chance we could apprehend him if we circumvent those officers and get the drop on him. Though I'm sure they've called in reinforcements by now..."

  I looked at Dazz, who shrugged.

  Steelshot whispered, "Let's go."

  There was no other option. The police would inevitably corner and detain us if we weren't already dead or injured in the crossfire. We were sitting ducks. With that in mind, we silently got to our feet. My left ear was still ringing loudly, making it even more difficult to concentrate on anything else. It was almost as if someone were screaming into it. I rubbed my temple for a moment, then followed my group out of the room and down the hall opposite the officers.

  Before turning the corner, I risked a quick glance behind us. My heart almost stopped.

  Half a dozen officers were strewn across the floor at the base of the main staircase, groaning in pain. Some were lying motionless in pools of their own blood. Others were dragging themselves across the ground towards a nearby door to escape. About fifteen Rotted stood amongst them, having broken out from various holding cells to attack. There was a massive hole at the bottom of the stairs that they were crawling out of like vermin from levels below. They were fighting over which living officer to take swings at. Even from where I stood, I could tell that the creatures didn't look like they usually did. All the Rotted I'd seen previously were nearly identical: willowy frames, gaunt faces, matted hair and waxy skin. They had all had the same ink-black eyes, the same dark veins. Sharp teeth, some of them missing, and tattered clothes. But a handful of the ones here had recently turned. Their bodies weren't yet corrupted or desiccated. I wondered how many of them were Inkbloods.

  And there, standing on the upper landing, was Balgaur. The Rotted swarmed below him. They didn't seem to be under his command, but were certainly leaving him alone. One officer dangled from his arm. He then slammed their body against the railing, cracking their skull on impact.

  "Keep moving, Grey!" Dazz exclaimed into my good ear.

  I whipped around and jogged after my team.

  We crept down the darkened hall. Glass was scattered all over the place, crunching under our feet as we moved. Some of the emergency lights in the ceiling flickered and sparked. Many doors and walls were dented. There must've been hundreds of Inkbloods and Rotted in this facility at one point. Had Balgaur already let them all escape?

  The staircase up that would allow us to circle back to Balgaur was on our immediate right when the large elevator at the end of the corridor burst open. All four of us skidded to a stop and raised our weapons. We were expecting another squad of officers to come rushing out. I would've preferred that to what we got instead.

  The elevator screeched and trembled. The doors struggled to stay open. A gigantic mass of black sludge squeezed its way out. It looked like a living tidal wave, spilling across the hall towards us. It was as if all the defeated corpses from the basement had congealed on top of each other, a writhing mass of death that somehow retained life. The pile was high enough that the top of the rot touched the ceiling. Deformed limbs poked out of the tar-like slime. Some of them appeared to be contorting and undulating; constantly replacing, changing, multiplying.

  Then, it split apart at the middle. A long blade extended itself through the newly-formed gash. I backed up a few paces in alarm, raising my swords defensively as though they'd even make a dent. Like a grotesque flower, the mutation unfurled until a viscera-soaked figure finally stepped through. One I recognized after only a second. Fear gripped my heart in an instant, squeezing every last ounce of hope out.

  Vhinrud's elaborate bolero hat dripped with thickened blood. His cane sword was coated in gore from having just cut through the abomination like a reptile emerging from an egg. He chuckled when his gaze settled on us. "...Ah. More apt than a wooden horse, wouldn't you agree?"

  The black mass continued to flow from the elevator behind him, oozing out across the tiles like a plague. Each of the two severed halves continued to crawl and writhe separately. The sound they made as they slithered towards us made me nauseous. Vhinrud simply stood and watched us as if this was a pleasant family reunion. A familiar flash of red anger came over me. The one person I needed to capture more than any other had just appeared, as if this nightmare of a mission could've gotten any worse. But I had to do something.

  With a guttural growl, the bloated conglomerations abruptly surged towards us. Their movements were as quick as shadows. The whole group of us ducked away and started running towards the nearby staircase, only to be stopped short again by another huge ball of coagulated Rotted sliding down it. I swerved and threw up a hasty barrier instead. It connected, putting a sizeable strain on me. My muscles ached in protest. We had no choice but to retreat back the way we'd come.

  I tried to shoot some crystal shards out towards Vhinrud as I ran, but a wall of Rotted was already rapidly flowing out in front of him. I barely caught a glimpse of him as he strode back into the elevator. Our eyes met for half a second. He looked eager to run me through with a blade. Or... He almost looked confused. The last I saw of him was a small frown, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, before the doors slammed shut and he vanished, leaving only the monstrous creatures to deal with.

  Dazz skidded around the corner. "Can't we teleport out of here?! Let's just go!"

  Halo followed after him and snapped, "Have you gone mad?! You want to leave this situation unresolved? Anyone who's alive will die if we leave, Dazz!"

  Steelshot grabbed me by the shoulder and steered me around the next corner as we continued to run, making sure I didn't lag behind. She looked tense. Her brows were knitted in frustration. I didn't even have the breath to speak up, let alone thank her. We retraced our path back into the entrance area of the facility. The three Rotted blobs were hot on our tails. I wasn't sure if it was because they had their eyes on us in particular, or if they were just attracted to movement. They left a thick trail of dark blood and bile in their wake. For such gelatinous masses, they sure were fast.

  Balgaur was nowhere to be seen. The regular Rotted were gone, too. But the police officers that hadn't survived the previous onslaught were still scattered across the ground, now silent. My eyes suddenly pricked with tears. Would I have been able to protect them if I could've convinced them I was on their side? How could I have even helped? I couldn't think straight. So, in the hopes that maybe they were still alive, I threw down a dome of healing over that entire section of the floor. A large pool of warm light pulsed across the tile.

  But there was no time to stay and wait to see if any of the fallen would be revived. The bloated masses barrelled towards us from behind, threatening to knock us over and crush us to death. My fellow hunters began pelting the abominations with whatever light magic they knew. The Rotted shrieked in unison. My left ear was ringing too much for me to properly hear it, but the noise was loud and sharp, almost like it was physically clawing into me. I raised my palms to fire off a large burst of lightning at them.

  The centre one was hit by a series of blinding darts from Halo. It shuddered and jerked to a halt, limbs flailing about. A moment later, it seemed to inflate even larger. It looked like a sickly balloon. More light pierced its oozing hide. It grew bigger. The other two were doing the same under their assaults. Sounds that resembled indigestion filled the room. It was like the light magic was making them unstable, rather than pacifying them like it did with normal Rotted. They looked ready to explode.

  The realization hit me not a second too soon: Ashkan's prophetic nightmare. "Wait, STOP!" I cried out over the chaos.

  Nobody heard me in time, but in didn't matter – my arms instantly flew above my head as I conjured a massive, spherical shield around us as quickly as possible. Just as I did so, with an almighty burst of putrid gas and flesh, the Rotted detonated like they were full of TNT. A sickening, squelching sound that made me think of wet leather being torn apart reverberated from outside the protective barrier. Thick clumps of acidic goop and bone shot out in every direction. They pounded against my shield like hailstones. My limbs shook under the strain. It felt like someone had struck me across the shoulders with a bat. The barrier fractured and flickered under the stress. I didn't have the energy to make it any bigger. It took all of my effort just to hold it. My eyes watered as I clenched my teeth in a pained grimace, praying that it wouldn't break.

  ...Silence. The necrotic tumours must've been the size of wrecking balls, but they'd now been reduced to nothing more than piles of smoking, liquefied slop. The remains were all around us. They covered the walls. They coated the floor. It was on the ceiling. It was nothing short of disgusting. We all stood and panted for a few moments. No one dared to move. Then, finally, I let out a shaky breath and dropped to my knees. The shield disintegrated.

  "I think," Halo began slowly, "...we should get out of here."

  Dazz gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Good thinkin'. Thanks for the shield. How'd you know they were gonna...blow up, or whatever?"

  I was still catching my breath. "It's...a long...story. But the…point is, you don't…want to use light…magic on them. They just…keep growing. It's too corrosive...to withstand."

  Steelshot wiped some goop off of her sleeve and stared down at it in distaste. "Duly noted. Would've liked to have known about those things beforehand." She looked back up. "I've a feeling that bloke with the cane is causing more trouble in the basement. Wonder how Koth's holding up."

  "Yeah, I'm kinda worried about those other officers down there... Even though they tried to arrest us," Dazz muttered.

  Halo sighed. "I suppose our job here isn't quite over, is it? Let's see if we can get things under control before more officers presumably arrive. Perhaps we could still salvage some of this, somehow."

  "After a quick refresh?" Dazz asked, holding up a small vial. Eriterg.

  "Not a bad idea," he agreed. He reached into a pouch on his belt and procured three identical vials. He handed one to Steelshot, and one to me. "A little bit of a pick-me-up would be most welcome."

  Steelshot accepted the bottle without a word. She chugged its contents down and closed her eyes. Dazz did the same. Halo followed suit, letting his head tilt back as the energy coursed through him. I, however, simply stared down at mine. Learning about eriterg's ingredients made me want to drink it even less. Even though I was practically gasping for air, my legs were burning, and my head was pounding, I hesitated.

  "Is everything all right?" Halo inquired. He pocketed his empty bottle, then knelt down in front of me.

  I met his concerned gaze. "Uh... Yeah. Yeah, I just don't...know how I feel about drinking pegasus marrow." I held up the vial a little and stared at its contents, swirling it around in the light. It looked like a muddy, violet liquid with bits of dried plant matter floating around in it.

  Dazz looked at me over Halo's shoulder. "Eh? What are you on about?"

  I didn't answer. I looked back at the potion. According to Perl, the odds of the ingredients being harvested humanely were pretty high, and they never knowingly bought shady, illicit materials. But it still bothered me. I felt a bit stupid. My team didn't even blink an eye before gulping down the substance, but I just...couldn't. It felt wrong. But was it? Or was that a weakness of character? Or, even, a weakness of mine as a hunter?

  A sudden commotion broke my train of thought. I glanced up in time to see Balgaur leap over the second-floor railing. He plummeted straight down into the mess below and landed with an ungraceful thump. My teammates drew their weapons in an instant. He rose to his feet, but made no move to attack.

  "What, still here? No matter..." A throwing knife spun deftly between his fingers. "...The boss is a tad tired of your constant interference in his work. I'll have to bleed you dry myself. Nothing personal; just business."

  Again, that grim cloud of detachment washed over me. I got to my feet and turned away before pulling my mask down, uncorking the bottle of eriterg with my teeth, and shotgunning its contents so I didn't have to think about their origins. My head felt much clearer instantly. My heart beat stronger. It was almost as if the concoction had a life of its own, an eagerness to be used, like it was prepared for the work it'd be doing. I settled my gaiter back over my nose, then faced Balgaur.

  The scuffle was brief but intense. My glaive clashed against his vambrace with a loud clang. I had to use the staff to block an incoming knife from his free arm. I pivoted out of the way before his boot could make contact with my side. Dazz then tried to cast a jet of flames at Balgaur from behind, only to receive a barbed fist to the stomach that sent him reeling back. Steelshot landed a swift elbow to his temple when he turned away from Halo's blast of ice. He stumbled, but didn't go down. He quickly threw one of his knives in a wide arc, which nicked the back of my leg. I bit back a gasp of pain as I lunged at him again.

  Fighting Balgaur was like fighting a well-armoured giant: He was big and had a lot of weight behind his strikes. His armour also provided a significant amount of extra padding for attacks that might've done more damage to an ordinary human. It had to have been enchanted to be resilient against spells, too. That being said, the four of us together were making progress in wearing him down, little by little. He must've been at least kind of tired from all his brawling and chasing. I could tell by how his movement had slowed a bit.

  Right when Balgaur's attention was shifted away from me, I whipped out my revolver and went to reload it. The magic bullet cylinder spun open. Summoning liquid light from my thumb, I loaded up each chamber with a quick, practiced hand. The glowing, white drops gleamed in the light as they solidified into bullets. They would've been beautiful, if not for their purpose. I slammed the cylinder shut with a flick of my wrist and pulled back the hammer.

  I was going to have to hit my mark. No missing this time. From this close a range, I shouldn't have been able to miss.

  Yet, at the very last millisecond, the instant before I fired, Balgaur noticed me and blocked his head with his vambrace. I fired. The bullet ricocheted off the metal, spraying a fine line of sparks up into the air. I ducked for fear of it rebounding to hit me. He took advantage of my momentary surprise and charged. I leapt backwards, but wasn't fast enough. My revolver was knocked from my hand, and the next thing I knew, I'd been thrown violently against the wall, next to a massive puddle of congealed rot. The wind was knocked out of me. My vision went spotty. I was too stunned to notice that my scarf had fallen off my face.

  My companions were then sent flying in the other direction by a thundering shockwave from Balgaur's hand. The three of them were bowled over, rolling across the grimy tiles. They struggled to get to their feet. Judging by their movements, at least one or two of them had been rattled in the head. Next, Balgaur grabbed my collar before I could even start to struggle. His grip was vicelike. I choked under the force. With his free hand, he pulled out one of his knives from his armband, then moved to drive it straight through my throat.

  ...But something stopped him.

  His gaze fell on my face, and stayed there. I froze. Time felt like it had slowed to a crawl, giving us both a chance to soak in the moment. To my horror, I watched Balgaur's furious countenance switch to one of recognition. He rotated me slightly as if to confirm it wasn't just the lighting. When the gears in his head seemed to turn over, when his expression had fully changed, he looked...surprised. Startled. Almost concerned.

  He released me. I slid down the wall and sat on the floor, coughing. After a couple heartbeats of astonishment, he jammed his knife back into its sheath. I fumbled for the end of my scarf and tugged it over my nose, but we both knew it was too late to hide. I had to resist the urge to facepalm. This was maybe the worst thing that could've happened. Balgaur found out I was working for the League, or at least that I was helping out some sort of organized group he'd fought before. My mind started whirring with possible escape plans. There had to be some kind of back door. Something. Anything.

  Just as quickly as he'd appeared, Balgaur promptly spun on his heel and made a mad dash for the main doors. Every nerve in my body shrieked at me to get the hell out of there, too, but that idea was soon overshadowed by a different objective. He had to be intercepted, arrested, and preferably questioned. He already knew my real identity. Maybe if I could catch up to him, I could cut a deal or something. He didn't seem too keen on hurting me, for some reason. If there was any time to attempt to blackmail him like Ashkan had proposed, now would be it.

  I lunged up, ignoring my tingling fingers and bruised ribs, and bolted after the towering brute – but not before snatching up my gun from the ground.

  "Grey, wait!" Halo called out. He was half-standing, propped up by Dazz. "Let him go! We aren't done here!"

  Dazz's panicked voice rang out, "Gods, I coulda sworn he just saw your face– Don't follow him!"

  I whipped back around for just a moment. "I'm sorry, I have to do this! Just finish up with whatever's down here, and I'll catch you later! Thanks!"

  With that, I pushed forward as fast as my sore limbs could carry me, following Balgaur up the large staircase that led to the exit. Each footfall on the stone steps seemed to send shooting pains through me. I was probably more injured than I thought. But I kept going. I couldn't let him get away, not now.

  I was closing in. Balgaur's heavy strides carried him to the double doors. He didn't once glance over his shoulder. He looked completely preoccupied, almost troubled by something. He practically rammed the doors open. They flew back on their hinges, clanging noises echoing across the atrium. The sun had long set beneath the horizon. The sky was a dark purple colour, tinged with yellow from the street lanterns. Thankfully, any reinforcements had yet to arrive.

  I'd just crossed the threshold and pulled out my revolver again when a dense wall of rock emerged from the ground, right in front of Balgaur. His head hit the barrier. He was knocked flat on his back from the collision. I took a moment to look around in bewilderment before my eyes fell on Steelshot, who was standing behind me with her arms outstretched.

  "Don't know why you're after him," she muttered, "but I'm not about to let you run off alone. We're hunters. We're a team, even when it doesn't feel like it. Especially then."

  I stared at her for a couple seconds. "...You're right. Sorry, I just– I have some personal things at stake in this. Saviour stuff. Too much to explain right now. I can't let him get away. ...I just can't."

  Her eyes crinkled slightly like she was grinning. "Fine. We can make sure he doesn't."

  "No, what about Dazz and Halo? What about the mission?" I replied anxiously.

  She shook her head. "Koth's likely been arrested. They're just going to clear out any remaining Rotted, slice any downed Inkbloods, and patch up any injured officers. They'll be out before backup gets here. Isn't much left to do. It'll be fine." She motioned to the barricade she'd formed. "C'mon, let's make this quick."

  Balgaur had just recovered. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and rubbed his temple.

  "Oh no, you don't." Steelshot's hand sprang forward, palm-first.

  A bluish flash of energy burst out. I recognized it as a sedating charm – they were fairly easy to counter, but you had to get the timing just right to do so. As expected, Balgaur was too dazed to react, and he was instantly knocked out. He keeled over with a heavy thump. Steelshot then summoned a thick tarp from a pile of crates across the street into her hand and covered Balgaur's body with it. Finally, she cast a powerful telekinetic spell that picked him up off the ground. The slightly suspicious mass of cloth floated behind her as she began walking away.

  She looked back over her shoulder and raised a questioning brow at me. "Coming?"

  We hurried all the way to the nearest League refuge with the floating bundle in tow.

  The building in question was located on the very edge of Nanbel. It was a modest place; small but well-furnished. The structure was made from dark red brick. Two tall pillars framed a narrow door with a polished transom. Naturally, there was nothing indicating it had any connection to our syndicate. I was told it was disguised as some kind of church-owned bookshop on the surface. Steelshot pressed her signet ring to the door handle, and the lock clicked open. I pushed through first. She followed closely behind with a still unconscious Balgaur before sealing the door behind us.

  The shop was dark. Books were shelved in their rows on the walls. An assortment of maps were hung on one end of the room, depicting different regions of the world. In one corner was an arrangement of padded seats around a coffee table. A flight of stairs behind the counter led to an underground area that looked more like what you'd expect from an organization like ours, complete with a small stockpile of supplies, some cots, and a first aid kit. The ceiling was low. I had to duck when I entered. Steelshot gestured to a wooden chair in the corner.

  "This'll do. Stick him there and I'll tie him to it," she instructed. "Then we'll have a chat when he wakes up."

  I followed her directions and helped her levitate Balgaur into a seating position. Steelshot then yanked the tarp off before quickly binding his limbs to the chair with rope she pulled out from a cupboard. He looked quite ridiculous, I had to admit. His arms were bound to the armrests while his head hung limply.

  A frown pulled at my mouth. "How are we sure he won't just bust out of his restraints once he comes to?"

  "Think Perl would stock our safehouses with regular ol' rope? Ha! Stuff's enchanted, Grey. He's not breaking out of it," Steelshot replied with a short huff of laughter. "Besides. I'm not leaving you here to have your little heart-to-heart alone. He's an oaf and barely smarter than a pile of rocks, but if it gets violent, I want to be here. Especially since your mask came off back there."

  "...I'm such an idiot," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Now what? Do I get kicked out of the League? Do we have to call Perl or someone else to come obliviate him?"

  She took a seat in an armchair by the wall and propped her feet up on the crate in front of her. "Not always as dramatic as that. More of a problem if the police finds out who you are. Or your family. People like that. Either way, we'd have to wait for an obliviating officer to come all the way here. Balgaur could try all he wanted to expose you, but there'd be no proof. Or payoff, really. And he didn't seem to want to keep attacking you after he got a look at your face. Bit of a weird glint in his eye, yeah? Maybe we can work it out. Did you know him?"

  I folded my arms tightly. "Uh... How good are you at keeping secrets?"

  She shot me a look. "Really?"

  "...Dumb question. Sorry. Anyways." I started pacing from one end of the small room to another, pausing briefly to remove my hat, gloves, and neck gaiter. I set the items down on a low cabinet and then brought both hands to my waist. "Where to start... First time I ran into Balgaur was on Earth, before I ever came here. It was a super brief encounter. He kind of just did some sort of magic, I think; messed with my head, made me feel like I was going crazy. Haven't seen him again since I moved houses. Then he blew up the central market in Nelorismel, almost killing Shaye's brother... Inkbloods hurt Ashkan pretty badly that day, too. And then... Well, you know about his kidnapping already."

  "Mhm. Awful."

  I began rubbing my arms up and down in an effort to ground myself. "Yep. It was really bad. Really... Really bad."

  She didn't respond, but her expression implied she was curious for more information.

  "So," I continued, "Ashkan found out some really interesting stuff about him. It's kind of personal... And complicated. So I can't say a lot. But, long story short, Balgaur used to work for King Typhis. He was his page. And he was good friends with Ashkan's parents, and mine, and Shaye's. Ashkan's mom wrote all about him in these journals that she gave to Ash. Um, she...passed away several years ago, but he recently found the journals again and read through them, and... Well."

  I took a breath.

  "Basically, Balgaur and her were working together, sort of, to figure out what the whole prophecy was about. They discovered Vhinrud – that guy with the hat who came out of the elevator earlier – holed up in Adares, recruiting Inkbloods, and also determined that he's the 'raven-haired man' from the prophecy. Somewhere around there is when he became the newest leader of the cult. But Balgaur started slipping into crime while being undercover in order to help Ashkan's mom – in order to keep up the fa?ade – so the King obviously fired him, but then Ashkan's mom still wanted answers to help us out in the future, so she went to Vhinrud's lair herself, and... There were some death threats, but Vhinrud ended up coercing Balgaur to be his underling or whatever, and they signed a blood contract as well, at the cost of erasing Ashkan's mom's memories of his hideout and existence, and also draining a lot of her life force. Though she'd been writing all of that research down for years, unbeknownst to everyone. But...she got ill after the siphoning and never recovered, so...our consensus is that Vhinrud effectively murdered her. So... Yeah. This isn't just business to me."

  Steelshot remained quiet throughout the entire rambling. I glanced at her when I was finished. She seemed thoughtful, like she was trying to absorb all the new information I'd dumped onto her. Finally, after a few moments, she said, "...You and I have different definitions of not saying a lot."

  My eyes flicked to the ground. "Sorry. That's a lot, I know. But it's... This is all so much more tangled than we thought, and... If there's any chance I can use Balgaur's previous life to convince him to back off from attacking Ashkan again, or to hinder Vhinrud's power, or just to make him answer some damn questions, then...I can't not try."

  She looked at Balgaur's slumped-over figure and frowned. "Can't blame you, Grey."

  Without warning, the chair shifted under Balgaur's weight as he regained consciousness. Steelshot and I fell silent and snapped our attention towards him. We both watched to see if he'd be able to break his bonds. But after a few seconds, the only thing he did was let out a deep grunt, followed by a quiet grumble that seemed to be a string of swears under his breath.

  I stepped towards him with cautious strides. Steelshot made her way around the opposite side, looking as though she were ready to draw her blade if things took a turn. When Balgaur's head lifted, his expression was still sour, but now tinted with mild confusion as well. His eyes narrowed as they scanned the room. The moment he seemed to comprehend that he'd been captured, a barely perceptible flash of alarm shot across his face. When his eyes finally rested on mine, it vanished, replaced once again by a harsh glare.

  "I'd say you've loads more explaining to do than I," he grunted. "A saviour, romping around in the city streets, chasing creatures with an amateur mercenary team? Are the other two also around somewhere?"

  I clenched my jaw. "You're in no place to be questioning anything here."

  Balgaur huffed in indignation, then attempted to pull at the bindings. A few thwarted spells glinted momentarily. "And here I was, thinking the Luminaries would be the last people to hide behind masks... Why haven't you just killed me? You had the chance. Or are you waiting for help to arrive?"

  My blood simmered in my veins. "No, we're not the sort of people to go around randomly murdering others. But I wouldn't expect you to remember what that's like."

  His mouth thinned into a straight line. Maybe I'd struck a nerve. "If you have any semblance of intelligence, you'd cut your losses and let me go. The boss'll be calling for me soon. What a laugh he'll have when I tell him about Brielle de Mavset herself being a hunter, of all things... He's gonna get a real kick outta this, he is."

  "What about when you tell him about me capturing you and tying you up?" I fired back.

  He just grinned. "I reckon he wouldn't mind that it was you."

  I frowned. Was I an exception to his violent streak? It wasn't too difficult to notice how, out of the three of us, Ashkan had felt the worst of Balgaur's wrath over the months. I'd assumed it was just some traditional aversion to hurting women. But then again, he had no qualms about attacking Kadia in that dungeon – or Shaye, or me, for that matter. Yet I couldn't shake the suspicion that Balgaur might not feel exactly the same animosity towards me. Maybe Vhinrud was the same? I did find it extremely strange how...well-mannered he'd tried to be during our first encounter. He'd almost been like a completely different person in those few minutes compared to his behaviour when he helped torture Ashkan and tried to kill me later on. It made no sense. I had to figure this out.

  My expression darkened. "Tell me why."

  Balgaur looked slightly amused by my sudden intensity. "What, why I didn't slice you to ribbons when I had the chance? ...Not much to say. You're better off just killing me here. I'm not gonna spill a thing."

  "I refuse your refusal."

  "Fine by me."

  I stepped away and mumbled to Steelshot, "We don't have any truth serum lying around somewhere, do we?"

  She shook her head. "More likely to find a bottle of moondust in here than something like that."

  I crossed my arms with a scowl before turning back to Balgaur. "Fine. If you're not gonna be forthcoming, then I'll just tell you about everything I've discovered about you and your involvement with King Typhis. Then maybe you'll be inclined to explain."

  A vein in his forehead pulsed. He said nothing, though his body language betrayed his annoyance.

  "You were his page. You were close with all of our parents. And you and Harwynis were researching the prophecy for years," I stated flatly, not breaking eye contact.

  The mention of that name made him flinch ever so slightly.

  I pressed on, "And then the King fired you and Vhinrud started pulling the strings instead, forcing you to sign a blood contract and making you do things that would hurt Ashkan – that did hurt him. I suppose I can't blame you... That brainwashing brand on your throat. You weren't in your right mind, were you? Although, you've always been on the wrong side of the law. It was a perfect storm of manipulation, really."

  He'd started to shift in his restraints. "You know nothing of me."

  "Maybe," I allowed, "but Harwynis did. She journaled all of her research on the prophecy. About you and the raven-haired man, and what you both did. I'd guess she never told you she kept a record of your behaviour. Do you remember that time? Do you remember helping her, back in those days? Or how about the last time you saw her? Would you have continued to visit her had Vhinrud not forbidden you?"

  Balgaur looked frustrated. "Shut it, wretch."

  I leaned towards him. I was fully aware that this man could probably snap my spine like a toothpick, and I was still moderately afraid of him, but I had to play the part. I couldn't give him any sense of my anxiety. I was the one in control here. "Would you have?"

  He stared me down. The lines in his face had grown deeper with ire. "She was weak. She wasn't long for this world."

  "...Yes. That was because of him," I replied coldly. "He wanted to kill her. You convinced him otherwise. He took it out on you instead, and she died anyways."

  His expression fell – but only for a split second. Whatever the sentiment was, it was soon gone, replaced by his typical gruffness. He didn't bother answering.

  I knew I couldn't convince him to rebel against his master, If the blood contract wasn't already preventing that, his tattoo certainly was. I had to approach from a different angle. Switch gears. I couldn't use logic on someone who was bound to an oath like he was. I had to find a weakness in him that could be exploited, even if he was physically impervious. Maybe his ego? His morality? His conscience? There had to be a rift in his armour. Everyone had them, no matter how hard they tried to bury them. Even someone who'd committed all the sins this man had could not have been completely heartless. I was thinking like Shaye.

  "I won't waste time by asking you why you were at the research complex tonight, since it's not as if you can refuse orders," I began again, making sure my voice carried an authoritative air. "Instead, I'll ask you about Koth. Why the hell were you dragging along some normal, unmarked guy? He can't be much older than me. And he was this close to being folded like a lawn chair by us. Now he's probably going to wither away in prison."

  Balgaur's eyes were flat and impassive. "Not my problem. I was under a directive. The bloke isn't innocent, anyhow. He did a bang-up job getting away from you lot."

  I wanted to wring his thick, dumb neck. "He wasn't even involved in your gang. Why'd you need him?"

  "...He wanted to be. Reckoned he was tough. Thought he could prove himself; be of use to the boss. It's not often that people want to join our little posse. He had a cousin that worked there. Knew all about the lunacy goin' on inside the walls."

  "You almost led him to his death," I interjected, trying to keep the edge from my tone.

  His expression shifted to one of disinterest. "Should've known what he was gettin' into."

  "Right, just like you knew what you were getting into, decades ago? You didn't know how it'd end up."

  "Don't compare me to some no-name nobody!" he snapped, lunging at me in an effort to rise. The restraints held him in place. "Vhinrud found me. Gave me power. Purpose."

  "You mean you found him," I corrected, my words as sharp as glass. There was no point in arguing about Balgaur's life choices, though. They'd been made and could never be reversed.

  "And I suppose you think you're a bunch of grand heroes, takin' out the big bad gang in town. Slaughtering all my comrades. You're no better than I am, hunting us down and putting us in cages," he grumbled. "All for what? Hiding behind some bloody secret group, running off into the night? The law wants you all gone just as badly as they want us. The only difference is, we don't hide."

  My temper flared, but I swallowed it back. "I'm not even going to entertain that. Your master is the one keeping up the tradition of turning people into undead acolytes. Yourself included. And if I've learned anything tonight, it's that only Inkbloods can turn into Rotted. And only he knows how to make Inkbloods."

  Balgaur's fist slammed against the chair's armrest with enough force that I was surprised it didn't break. "Wrong! My brethren were locked up and poisoned, you brainless sot! They became beasts because they were tortured, because that's all you people seem to do to them! I was freeing them, I was giving them back their humanity; you can't be saved from the darkness once it's been pumped into your veins for weeks!"

  I knew better than to be baited by such an obvious comment. He'd be happy to have me fuming and raging, giving him ammunition. It sure seemed like King Typhis had something to do with the experiments going on, but Vhinrud also seemed to be quite familiar with Rotted monstrosities. It was less of a question of who was responsible for their creation, and more a matter of what schemes were at play here. If it was indeed true that Rotted always began as Inkbloods, then Vhinrud was already guilty of creating the latter in the first place. I just wanted to figure out why the King's seal was present in an environment that felt so...illegal. There had to be a link here somewhere. But it wasn't going to be solved by ruminating over it now.

  Balgaur's next comment was low. "You're like a feeble child, yammering on about some imaginary boogeyman. On the front lines of a fight that's already over. Well, you and your friends can keep dancing around in the dark. Doesn't make a single lick of difference."

  "Your boss seems to think we're worth keeping an eye on," I shot back. "And I'd bet you do, too. Or you'd have tried killing me on Earth last summer. That would've been a pretty good way of ridding yourselves of all the headaches I've been giving you."

  His nostrils flared. "I wasn't ordered to. If I didn't want you to see me, you wouldn't have."

  I shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm sure. But that doesn't explain why you were there in the first place. Why'd you go through all that trouble just to play a little prank on me?"

  "Not your business."

  "Was it an order?"

  No answer.

  "Was it a personal request?" I prodded, leaning over him.

  His eyes glimmered in a way that made me feel like I might want to take a few steps back. But I couldn't give him the satisfaction. "...Was just following directions–"

  "Not from Vhinrud. From Harwynis," I interjected. My tone was uncharacteristically sharp. "You were friends with my parents; you knew where I lived. Your master wouldn't have wanted you to give me a hint like that. But that doesn't change the fact that you watched us three grow up. Harwynis trusted you. You meant something to her. You must've kept tabs on us over the years. Maybe she'd asked you to, long ago. Before you lost yourself. You wouldn't have kept such a close watch unless she had, would you?"

  Balgaur's gaze dropped to the floor. His fingers began tapping rapidly against the wooden armrest, like an arrhythmic drumbeat. It was almost a minute before he responded, "...What do you care? Nothing good can come of dredging her memory back up."

  I narrowed my eyes. "She was the only person who understood you."

  He scowled at the ground. "No. That's not why I... That's not it."

  I had no idea what had given me the burst of courage, but I could feel a pressure building up behind my sternum, telling me that I might not get another chance like this. Balgaur had been very close with Harwynis, even if that bond had been lost along the way. The idea of it was perplexing, to say the least – the kind, protective mother and the hardened criminal. But after having a look through her journals, I'd realized that Balgaur wasn't always a bully. Not always. He was a product of his environment who'd lost the right path at the right time, just like all other Inkbloods throughout the centuries. This demon's jester had made his bed, and was lying in it, and wasn't getting up for anything. ...Except maybe, maybe for her.

  "Feel free to correct me, then," I replied coolly.

  "The Martyr understands better than she ever could've."

  I crossed my arms. "Do you actually think he cares about you? Or anything aside from power?"

  Balgaur glared up at me, the shadows deepening under his eyes. "Riddle me this: If you really think she asked me to keep an eye on you brats, then why're you the only one that ever saw me near your homes? Why didn't Ashkan or Shaylie ever spot me? Do you really think the boss would've let me, with the contract and everythin', sneak off on a whim to see if some little nuisance was faring well?"

  His reasoning was sound. ...And, the question remained, how did Balgaur even manage to do that?

  "Don't try to make a fool outta me. I don't know what your angle is, but I'm not buyin' it," he spat. "I'll die before I ever deceive my lord. My blood is bound to his cause, and nothin' you can say will sway me otherwise."

  I sighed. He was too far gone. I could never save someone who didn't want to be saved. "...At least tell me how you managed to travel to Earth."

  "A friend lent me a ticket. Happy?"

  "No. I'd like a name."

  "Tough luck, lass."

  Irritated, I bit the inside of my cheek. "Fine. Then how'd you cast magic? The illusion in the window; the lamppost. I know a charm when I see one."

  His grin was wolfish and smug. "Maybe I had a little help from the boss. Or maybe you're just crazy. You'll find out which's true soon enough."

  I wasn't sure if that was a threat or a promise. But I couldn't let my nerves get the better of me. "If that's the case, then tell your boss that if he wants to see me, to quit hiding like a coward and sending his goons to do his bidding, and just do it himself."

  "Careful what you wish for," he sneered with a rumbling chuckle.

  "I'm not afraid of him. Or you." That was a bold-faced lie.

  "Oh! Oh, I'm quakin' in my boots!" Balgaur cackled, rocking back and forth in his chair. "You're a real terror, girlie, really. I'll be sure to pass on the message."

  My eye twitched at the arrogance in his voice. "You're just as deluded as him. I've never met anyone who's more of a prisoner to a tyrant than you are."

  He stopped laughing, but a haughty smile remained on his face. "...Still lost, you are. If, like the others, you think you can capture Vhinrud and have his head on a spike, do go ahead. If you're barmy enough to keep masquerading as the white knight, then keep beatin' that dead horse. Slog right into death. It won't be pretty. But it's not as if you can turn down the invitation."

  With that, the smile vanished. The blood in my veins started to chill. I took half a step back. Balgaur's face was never pleasant to look at, but something about the expression he wore now was a new sight entirely. Perhaps it was the shadows stretching across his features. His teeth looked jagged and uneven in the low light. His posture turned stiff. His right hand slowly curled into a fist, knuckles strained white by pressure. The silent pause was borderline hostile. He was a rabid dog at the end of a chain. He didn't even blink. Just kept glowering. I saw no sanity, no ability to reason. Those dark eyes had zero humanity left.

  Suddenly, he lunged forward as far as the restraints would allow him. The wooden chair creaked loudly. I couldn't stop myself from flinching and throwing out an arm.

  "Heed this..." Balgaur's voice was like sandpaper, gravelly and rasping. Saliva foamed in the corners of his mouth. The chair rocked on its feet with every violent tug against the straps. "...If you've any wits, you won't seek him out. Leave it be. If not, then you might as well roll over and find an empty grave to nestle inside."

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to spit something back at him about how Vhinrud could rot in the pits of hell, how I'd burn his entire empire down. But I couldn't find my tongue. My words dried up. The room suddenly felt far too small for comfort. My pulse thundered in my ears, the air seemed thinner, and all I could think about was putting space between me and the fiend that was bound before me.

  Steelshot, who'd been silently observing the entire exchange, now stepped between me and Balgaur. "All right, you. That's enough of the tough guy act. Getting real old. You'll have plenty of time to yap and blather in prison."

  "Are we sure about that...?" I whispered to her. "I mean, is there a point? Won't he just break out again?"

  She looked at me for a moment before turning back to the captive, and said in a rather flat tone, "Doesn't matter. It's protocol. How the wardens manage their charges is not our problem. We do our job, they do theirs."

  I pursed my lips. That was a fair answer. I was just wishing for some more finality, more assurance that Emiarhia would be safe from Balgaur, at least for a while. The fact that he was still an Inkblood made him nearly immortal. How could one keep an inmate from breaking out when they harboured no fear of death or pain? When they had no need for food, water, or sleep? They couldn't starve or freeze him out. Couldn't really hurt him in any way. Unless they knew about the slashing technique. Unless they were willing to kill him...

  The duality was proving difficult for me to wrap my head around. Inkbloods being so far from normal civilians, yet so close. They were such opposites of Rotted, or zombies, or ghouls. They were more alive. It made it that much harder to write them off as the enemy, when they'd once been people. But now... Now I'd gathered enough experience to witness how far they could stray. How deeply their wounds ran, how utterly the darkness had twisted them. How they could live for centuries, yet be as lost and unchanging as children. How the chains that had bound them however long ago were the same ones they continued to drag with them into every new resurrection. All because of someone who, once upon a time, had deemed themselves their leader, warped an insignia into an unholy sigil of neural exploitation, and brainwashed them into becoming undead foot soldiers. Vhinrud was just the person currently sitting on that throne. He must've simply recognized an excellent opportunity to create an army out of them, or synthesized some kind of innovative strategy that was causing them to be more problematic than they'd been in decades. I never thought I'd sympathize with petty thieves and hoodlums. But in the end, they'd barely been criminals at all. Now, they'd just become another kind of victim. Victims of a war they never signed up for, who were given a taste of false hope and then bound for life to the service of an evil dictator.

  My gaze met Balgaur's, who'd begun staring at me in a way that could only be described as withering. There was still confusion swirling in my head when I looked at him. He was a person, but he wasn't. On a biological level, he was no different than all the other Inkbloods I'd sliced the throats of. But I knew far too much about his history to look at him in the exact same light as I did the others. It was an oxymoronic situation that I couldn't decide whether I felt sorry for or just disgusted by. He was a husk of the man Harwynis got along so well with. He was a shell of the friend my parents once had. The mark on his throat beckoned quietly to me. I knew how to cut him down and make him disappear, forever. It was like a tickle in the back of my brain. I almost wanted to just...put him out of his misery. If there even was a soul left in that husk.

  One minute hadn't even passed when my thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cough. I blinked forcefully to see Balgaur hunched over as best as his restraints allowed him. A spasm wracked him from head to toe, causing him to break out into a hacking fit. The sound was hoarse and rough. His face twisted like he was chewing on a lemon rind. I lowered my head a fraction, and caught a glimpse of scarlet trickling from his nose. He kept coughing and coughing.

  Steelshot appeared equally as perplexed by the sight as I was. "Hey. What's all that about, then?"

  Balgaur's head flew back with a jerk. Blood pooled in the corner of his lips and spilled down his chin. "Ah, finally... Duty...calls..." he wheezed. "...Sorry to cut this...short. It was...a hoot and a half... Heh. Be seeing ya."

  It happened in the blink of an eye.

  Balgaur's eyes closed. My hand was halfway to my revolver. Steelshot shouted and threw up a barrier, her body poised to attack. But it was all for naught. Balgaur slumped back in his seat. His form began to contort and melt like hot wax. Every piece of him seemed to lose all structure as the skin blackened and curled up into charred, bubbling fragments. Quite literally, he'd swiftly liquified into a pool of oily sludge, which fell onto the floor in a noisy splatter. The puddle then shrank rapidly in the same manner one would evaporate water, until the substance was absorbed entirely into the wood. It all took a matter of seconds. He was gone. I was left stunned and aghast at the sight.

  "Damn it! Damn it!" Steelshot hissed, punching the nearest wall with her armored fist. "He was waiting for it... Argh..."

  My stomach flipped over. "Wait, is he dead?!"

  "Unfortunately not... Must be the blood oath, or the tattoo," she replied. Her nose was scrunched in frustration as she went on, "Vhinrud must've noticed his absence. Called to collect. Nothing you can do to stop it. Stupid..."

  "Something tells me that's how he's been breaking out of jail like it's child's play all this time," I realized aloud.

  "If you ask me, I'm thinking his boss's a damn milksop. Can't even stomach a minute without his attack dog," she ranted. "...Let's just get outta here. It's useless."

  'Useless'. The word stung a bit. But she was right. It wasn't like we could do anything now, other than just pick up our tools and go home. We'd done enough to be able to give a good report, at least. And the police were surely cleaning up the mess at the lab by now. There was no other reason to linger. ...Still, something in my head kept buzzing around. Like an irritating little bee. Something about Balgaur... About how I could've...

  No, I couldn't have. He was a prisoner that no cell could ever hold. He'd always have a means of escape, a ticket, a fail-safe... Vhinrud would make sure of it. This was a better outcome – maybe. I didn't know. Maybe it was useless.

  Absolutely...useless.