The city burned below.

  I sat on the edge of tower, legs dangling over empty air, watching smoke curl into the night sky. Orange light flickered across distant streets where fires still raged. The gunfire had mostly stopped - just occasional cracks splitting the silence, followed by nothing.

  My mask lay beside me, cold metal against stone. My hood was down. The wind pulled at my hair, sharp and biting.

  I stared at the burning districts and thought about how perfect this would be with a cigarette.

  The wind shifted strangely behind me - not natural, like something moved through it rather than with it.

  "I wonder," I said aloud, not turning, "how you can teleport like that when you don't have a pathway."

  The soft hiss of suction releasing. A mask disengaging.

  Then the Regent's voice, calm and measured. "Who said I don't have a pathway?"

  I glanced back, meeting his eyes with my own listless gaze. He stood there, mask in hand, expression genuinely curious - like he was asking a real question.

  I turned back to the city.

  "Or you can say nothing," I muttered. "Didn't expect much anyway."

  Footsteps. The rustle of fabric.

  The Regent sat beside me, boots hanging over the ledge, watching the same fires I was.

  "Did you handle it well?" he asked quietly.

  "As well as anyone could."

  He nodded once, slow and deliberate. "This won't be the last scene of misery you face. Nor will it be the worst." He paused. "But as long as you know why you do it, you'll be fine."

  I exhaled through my nose, too tired for the start of another one of his speeches.

  "I don't want to hear any of your ideological bullshit right now."

  The Regent shrugged. "If you wish."

  He reached into his coat and pulled out a metal carton - cigarettes, sleek and unmarked. He held it out toward me.

  I frowned. "What for?"

  "Your reward," he said simply. "For becoming a member of the Iron Hands."

  I stared at the carton for a moment, then took it. Flipped it open. Pulled one free and put it between my lips.

  The Regent leaned over with a lighter, flame flickering to life. I inhaled, letting the ember catch.

  "I want my cut, though," he said, extending a hand.

  I passed him the carton without a word.

  He took one for himself, lit it, and exhaled slowly. We sat in silence, smoke curling between us, watching the city burn.

  My mind... calmed.

  The whispers quieted. The hallucinations - the crawling black blood, the shapes at the edge of vision - faded like fog under sunlight. My breathing steadied. My chest loosened.

  I glanced at the cigarette, then at him.

  "What's in this?"

  "Something to help you get by," the Regent said, voice neutral.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  "Don't worry," he added. "It's not a harsh drug. I've been smoking them for years." He tapped ash off the end. "And I'm fine."

  A faint smile tugged at my lips despite everything.

  "Some would beg to differ."

  The Regent laughed - quiet, genuine - and took another drag.

  We sat like that for a while. Just watching. Just breathing.

  Finally, I broke the silence.

  "Is Arthur okay?"

  "He's fine," the Regent replied. "Though he obviously doesn't approve of what's happening."

  I nodded slowly.

  "I plan to help him rise through the military ranks," the Regent continued. "Eventually, I want him to become a Field Marshal."

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  "He could definitely do it," I said quietly. "He's a genius."

  "He is," the Regent agreed. "But one thing's certain - you'll be seeing him in the capital eventually."

  I smiled faintly. "That's good. I'll make sure to visit the bastard a couple more times before I leave for the capital."

  The Regent nodded. "You'll resume your duties as an Inquisitor when you reach the capital. Your new handler will contact you there."

  He paused, smoke drifting from his lips.

  "The capital is a whole different beast," he said. "More advanced in every way. Its population is around fifty times bigger than Morren."

  I blinked. "So around twenty-five million?"

  He nodded. "Morren could fit five times into one of its twelve districts."

  His expression shifted - more serious now, eyes sharpening.

  "You should know," he said carefully, "the Inquisition doesn't know about the experiments you went through. Only I and a couple other close allies of mind know what you are."

  I stiffened slightly.

  "Huh?"

  "All the Inquisition knows" he continued, "is that you're a dual-pathway user. An orphan who escaped the cult." He met my gaze. "The official story is the experiments and all evidence of what it actually was, were lost beneath Arthur's divine fire."

  I blinked, surprised.

  "The reason I tell you this," he said, voice dropping, "is because the thing you saw the cult Bishop turn into - that part of the disease you carry, has spread."

  My stomach tightened.

  "I know little," he admitted. "But you're the only one I know who can successfully carry this disease and inherit its power. Anyone who tries and fails... turns into what the bishop did that night."

  He took another drag, exhaling slowly.

  "Originally, I thought it could only be spread through physical means - syringes, blood contact. But..." He turned his eyes on me, more serious than I'd ever seen him. "The disease has spread in the capital. The results are of a lesser extent compared to the Bishop. People have started going manic, and in later stages turning into creatures only heard in myth. It's only been affecting nobles so far. Only a few cases. But it's happening."

  I felt my jaw tighten.

  "Which means the Bishop somehow retrieved this disease," the Regent continued. "And the heretics are spreading it in the capital."

  The Regent took another drag form his cigarette, smoke curling in front of him.

  "They're calling it the Nightlurker virus. Because of the similar appearance to the Nightlurkers of legend."

  I rubbed my between eyes, exhaustion pulling at every muscle.

  "I really wonder," I muttered, "what your endgame is to keep such information about me from the Inquisition."

  The Regent didn't answer that. Instead, he leaned forward slightly.

  "If the Inquisition ever found out about your connection to that disease," he said quietly, "you would suffer much worse than death."

  I nodded slowly.

  "Just be cautious," he added. "To the Inquisition, your pathway is one of many with affinity for shadow. You're just an extremely lucky boon for them." He held my gaze. "Keep it that way."

  "Sure," I said flatly. "You've dug quite the grave for me. All it takes is someone to push me in."

  The Regent didn't deny it.

  "We'll stay in touch through letters," he said. "You'll keep me updated." He paused, looking at me with steady eyes. "And you should know - before anyone, your loyalty should remain first and foremost with me. And in the future, with Mary."

  I smiled faintly, bitter and tired.

  "Is the Inquisition just another means to an end for you?"

  "I agree with the Inquisition's goals," the Regent said. "But if they ever interfere with mine..." He let the sentence hang. "I won't hesitate."

  I took another drag from the cigarette, my mind drifting to Mary's dream. The Regent sitting in that theater, smiling that saintly smile. The tears he'd cried into her shoulder when she was a child.

  A man like that isn't trustworthy.

  But it proves he's human at least.

  Which means at thus point, he's the best choice.

  The only choice.

  "Whatever," I muttered.

  The Regent smiled faintly. "As long as you understand."

  He finished his cigarette, stubbing it out and slipping the butt into his pocket.

  I raised an eyebrow. "You're quite clean."

  He glanced at me, expression neutral. "Why would I dirty the city after I've just cleaned it?"

  Then he was gone - dissolving into shadow like he'd never been there at all.

  I sighed, finishing my own cigarette, staring at the butt for a moment.

  "I would've just flicked it off the roof," I muttered. "But now it'd make me feel bad."

  I slipped it into my pocket.

  A soft hum echoed in my ear - gentle, playful, familiar.

  Pale, transparent hands wrapped around my neck from behind. Arms looped over my shoulders, yet I felt no sensation of touch.

  "Charlotte," I said quietly. "Have you always been there?"

  Her head appeared beside mine, leaning against my shoulder. She smiled mischievously, red eyes gleaming.

  "It's quite nice to have some freedom," she murmured.

  The wind pulled at my hair. Hers didn't move at all.

  I glanced at her, listless. "Is this because I ascended?"

  She nodded, gaze drifting to the burning city below. "I can only do it for a little bit. But you looked lonely." Her smile widened. "So I thought I'd grace you with my presence."

  I smiled faintly. "Lucky me."

  Charlotte tilted her head, studying me. "What are you going to do next?"

  "For now?" I exhaled slowly. "Protect Mary. Help her in her fight for the throne. Rise through the ranks in the military after graduating from the military academy. Etcetera etcetera."

  Charlotte's brow furrowed. "You're walking right into the Regent's hands you know."

  "Yes," I said simply. "As long as our goals align, I don't really care if I have to."

  "And you believe he won't do anything rash?"

  I nodded. "It would be a major mental setback for Mary if he tried to take me out of the equation. He won't risk that. Its true at least, he cares about Mary deeply. Even if it's in his own twisted way."

  Charlotte smiled, eyes gleaming. "How cold of you. Using that girl like that."

  I shook my head. "I consider Mary a dear friend now. I may be using her for protection, but in the end, she'll be the one to benefit most." I paused. "The end will make it worth it."

  My gaze dropped.

  "I just hope she can forgive me after it's all said and done," I said quietly. "If she hates me... so be it. But she'll live a life worth living. And the Empire's survival will be maintained."

  Charlotte's expression softened slightly. "Why do you think she'll be the one to keep it alive?"

  "She's the perfect safeguard against her uncle," I said. "He'll keep her cunning. She'll keep his cruelty in check." I smiled faintly. "Hopefully creating something extremely competent."

  I stood, bones aching, muscles protesting.

  "I need sleep," I muttered. "Hopefully you can keep up."

  Charlotte laughed softly, waving as her form dissolved into red strings that scattered on the wind.

  "See you when you get home," her voice echoed faintly.

  I stared out at the city one more time - fires still burning, smoke still rising, the night still heavy with gunpowder and ash.

  Then I pulled the mask over my face, the world narrowing through black glass.

  And blinked.