Chapter 29: Round Two

  I froze when I heard the door downstairs creak open.

  Without hesitation, I activated Checkpoint, locking in the anchor.

  [Checkpoint Set: Your progress has been saved at this point in time]

  [Current anchor will be lost upon death, or after thirty minutes. The earliest of the two.]

  [Checkpoint lvl. 1: Time left until Anchor expires – 00:29:59]

  “Mr. Stanford?” A man called out, his voice firm.

  “This is Enforcer Gibbs, accompanied by Enforcer Brown. We’re with Halden Heights’ local patrol,” a woman added. “We received a report from a neighbor about a possible break-in. Your front door wasn’t locked. Is everything alright?”

  I almost sighed in relief when I realized they were just Ironwatch. It was like Déjà vu was tingling in the back of my mind, telling me it could’ve been worse. Much worse.

  But then my gaze flicked to Stanford’s corpse. The blood. The knives. The note.

  Fuck.

  This was the trap. It was never about luring me in – it was about burning the rest of the run. Making sure I don’t get back to the Divine by framing me for Stanford’s murder and forcing me to lose progress.

  No way I’m going down that easily.

  I turned to shut the door and lock myself in, planning to stall for time.

  Only…there wasn’t a lock. No keyhole. Nothing on the inside.

  It was designed to lock from the outside alone.

  My gaze flicked to Stanford again.

  For fuck’s sake…were you actually keeping your daughter prisoner in here?

  But more importantly – was Stanford’s wife…my mother?

  And if that was the case, was his daughter my –

  No. Not now. Focus.

  My COG lit up all of a sudden, displaying a delayed message.

  [Item Acquired: Time Plane Memory #4 – Added to Inventory]

  [Quest Updated: Memories From the Past]

  [Collect the 10 Time Plane Memory Fragments]

  [Current Status: 2 / 10]

  [Reward: 10 Level Upgrades]

  Again – not now.

  There was a small closet next to the door. I dragged it carefully across the floor, doing my best to keep the noise down, and wedged it firmly against the door.

  They probably heard that. I didn’t care. I just needed time. Time to search the body. Time to search this room. Time to find any leads at all. I couldn’t do that with an unlocked door and a threat of a pair of armed Enforcers coming from behind me.

  I stepped toward Stanford’s corpse, my hand hesitating in the air next to his head.

  Then, holding my breath, I reached out and touched his neck.

  The skin was cold.

  Not just cool – cold.

  Based on what little I knew about post-mortem body temperature, he’d been dead for at least four hours. Maybe more.

  Which only confirmed what I already suspected.

  The trap was never set by Stanford. It was set by his killer – Dolos’ Champion.

  And it was clear – that person considered Stanford a traitor.

  Based on the memory fragment, it could’ve been anyone – ranging from Valdemar on one end of the spectrum to Primarch Dalton Rose on the other – all depending on what Stanford decided to do after his daughter was taken away.

  I dismissed the foldable sword back into the Inventory and used both hands to rummage through all of Stanford’s pockets.

  Nothing of importance.

  Just seven Steamcrowns, which I stored in the Inventory for future use without looking at them too much. He wouldn’t be needing them anyway.

  When I reached behind him to check his bound wrists, I realized his COG was missing.

  That made no sense.

  Each COG was personalized, calibrated to its owner alone. No matter how valuable a COG of someone like Stanford was, no matter what clearances it had, it’d be worthless to anyone other than him.

  The only other reason to steal a COG was to sell it on the black market where they would disassemble it and sell its parts. But this wasn’t a simple robbery or anything like that.

  So why steal it? Why take a useless COG? Unless…unless it wasn’t useless to them?

  And then there was the note.

  The handwriting was aggressive. But that’s pretty much all I could surmise from it considering it was just one single word. Could belong to a male or female.

  I stood and turned, scanning the rest of the room, moving quickly but keeping my steps light.

  Then a knock echoed behind me.

  “Mr. Stanford? We heard movement. Are you in there?” Enforcer Brown called through the door.

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  I was running out of time.

  I searched faster now – checking drawers, shelves, under furniture – but the room had already been picked clean. There was nothing here but the furniture.

  Had Stanford cleared this room after his daughter was taken?

  Damn it. Too many unknowns to reach solid conclusions.

  Then it hit me – the third floor. I still hadn’t checked the third floor. There might be something useful there.

  Behind me, the knocking turned sharper and louder.

  “Mr. Stanford?” Came Gibbs’ voice again. “Please make yourself known. Now. We’ve seen the signs of a break-in in the kitchen downstairs. We are authorized to force entry if no one responds.”

  “You have ten seconds to respond.” Added Enforcer Brown. “We know someone’s inside. Failure to identify yourself will result in forced entry.”

  Then the pounding resumed, shaking the door as it slammed against the closet barricade.

  I spun toward the room’s only window, hoping I could jump…only to see thick iron bars across barring it from the outside.

  This room was an actual fucking prison!

  Should I use the Cryora to make my escape?

  Before I could even decide, the door and the barricading closet behind me exploded into tiny icicles.

  The Enforcers stormed in together, handguns drawn and eyes wide. Then they saw the body and me standing beside it.

  Gibbs’ expression twisted instantly from shock to alarm. Brown, on the other hand, raised his weapon even higher, his voice turned sharp.

  “Hands! Show me your hands, now!”

  “I – “ I began, not sure what I could say in my defense. I couldn’t even blame them for jumping to conclusion.

  Gibbs stepped forward slowly, her gun aimed at me. “On the ground. Now! Hands where I can see them!”

  “Don’t move unless I tell you to.” Brown added, circling cautiously toward my side.

  I briefly considered resisting. Just charging at them. Forcing them to shoot.

  But…no.

  How will that be different from suicide?

  Sure, I had Checkpoint locked in. Yes, I’d just respawn.

  But to make them kill me on purpose? That…that was nuts!

  I’m not that far gone.

  I sighed and slowly raised my hands, getting down to my knees.

  Then, the door downstairs creaked again.

  At the same time, my COG beeped with a notification. I couldn’t check it – my hands were still raised, but an unexplainable chill ran down my spine.

  “Check it.” Gibbs ordered Brown, not taking her eyes off me.

  Brown nodded and exited the room, heading downstairs.

  “Your backup?” She barked the question at me.

  “No…?” I muttered, still on my knees. My brain spun, calculating odds, possible exits – anything that didn’t automatically kill me.

  Then Brown’s voice echoed from below. “It’s a Crow.”

  The chill from before returned, accompanied by the unmistakable sensation of Déjà vu, filling me with bone-chilling fear.

  “A Crow?” Gibbs echoed, her brows furrowing. “Who called the – “

  Before she could finish her sentence, a gunshot rang out downstairs – followed by a scream. Enforcer Brown’s scream.

  Gibbs flinched, briefly torn between rushing to help her partner or keeping the gun aimed at me.

  “Brown!” She shouted, voice rising with panic. “What’s going on down there?”

  No answer. Just the echo of his scream.

  Her eyes darted to the hall, then back to me, breath uneven. Her stance shifted – she was afraid.

  With her handgun still locked on me, she spoke. “Who the fuck is downstairs with you?”

  “I don’t know.” I said quickly. “I swear I came alone!”

  “Bullshit!” She hissed. “You think I’m gonna believe that?!”

  Before I could say anything, we heard it – heavy, deliberate footsteps echoing up the stairs.

  Whoever it was – they weren’t hiding. They were coming straight up.

  Gibbs turned toward the door, gun ready, and more importantly, away from me.

  I used the moment to glance at my COG, where the notification was still blinking. It was a Déjà vu System quest, but…what the fuck was that?!

  [Quest Available: Outlast]

  [Immobilize the Obsidian Crow chasing you]

  [Reward: 5 Level Upgrades]

  Obsidian Crow?

  Chasing me?!

  Gibbs took a single step forward and peeked outside the room – just to jump back when another gunshot tore through the air, barely missing her head.

  She stumbled to her feet, gasping, her eyes wide.

  And then – he stepped into view.

  A massive man, fully armored with the Aetherguard Mark III suit. One arm had a long blade attached to it, the other a gun.

  The helmet and visor covering his face showed no expression, but it was clear he was here for blood.

  I quickly scanned him with my COG.

  [Obsidian Crow #13: level - ??]

  Gibbs froze. Her weapon trembled as her eyes locked on the armored figure.

  “Wait. What the fuck?” She whispered. “But – but you’re with us.”

  The Crow didn’t respond. Didn’t wait.

  He just raised his armgun – and fired again.

  But Gibbs was already moving.

  Enveloped in Kinetra’s orange aura, she dove to the side, the shot tearing the wall where her head had been, making me jump in place and look for a possible route of escape.

  “Traitor!” She barked as her hand slammed a mana crystal into her COG.

  A cold shimmer surrounded her palm as she extended her arm, releasing a wave of ice from her hand at the Crow.

  But that was…pointless. Surely, she knew that herself. Aetherguard Mark III were practically impervious to all types of magic. You needed your COG’s Quality function upgraded to the max to even leave a dent on it.

  The cold drove him back one step, but then he ducked and with incredible speed – thanks to the pistons on his suit’s knees – he dashed forward, his blade-arm extended.

  Gibbs didn’t even have time to scream.

  The armblade pierced through her torso, lifting her off her feet before the Crow tossed her body aside like trash.

  She hit the ground, unmoving, blood pooling beneath her.

  The Crow turned toward the rest of the room.

  His glance stopped at Stanford, and for a moment, I could’ve sworn that he sighed. Deeply.

  Then he turned to me.

  I glanced at Checkpoint’s timer.

  [Checkpoint lvl. 1: Time left until Anchor expires – 00:21:35]

  Plenty of time.

  I didn’t know how the System expected me to “immobilize” this, but I sure wasn’t going to just lie down and die.

  Even if I’d wake up again, I didn't want to just throw my life away. Not without a fight.

  I summoned the foldable sword from the Inventory with a flick of my wrist and a thought. The metal clicked into place inside my left hand.

  Using Cryora was pointless. My COG was low-leveled compared to Enforcer Gibbs’, and she couldn’t even scratch him. If I had any chance, it was by aiming for the visor – his eyes.

  The quest was clear. I just needed to immobilize him. Making him blind could be enough to meet that requirement.

  My heart raced. My knees threatened to buckle. But I made up my mind.

  Looking at me, he tilted his head slightly. And then…the bastard chuckled.

  “The sword,” he spoke, his voice warped and metallic. “How did you do that?”

  I ignored the question and just lunged forward, swinging the blade in a wide arc at his head. It was sluggish – I had never fought with a sword in my life – and my movements were slower than I’d realized.

  He leaned back casually, the sword missing him. Then he extended his leg and kicked me square in the chest.

  Pain exploded through my ribs as the air escaped my lungs and I flew backward. I smashed into the cupboard behind me, wood cracking, my back on fire now as well.

  The sword slipped from my grip, clattering across the floor.

  I gasped for air. Everything hurt so much.

  Suddenly…killing myself didn’t sound so bad. Didn’t sound so immoral. At least that way, I’d control how it ended.

  I looked up, my vision blurry, watching him as he bent down and casually picked up my weapon.

  He studied it closely.

  “Standard issue.” He muttered. Then his visor turned toward me. “So it’s not the sword, then.”

  And to my absolute confusion, he tossed it back to me.

  The sword skidded across the floor and stopped inches from my hand.

  I stared at it. Then at him.

  What?

  “Pick it up.” He said, voice calm, almost bored.

  “W-what?” I managed, my ribs screaming with every breath.

  He tilted his head slightly. Then spoke with a clarity that froze my blood.

  “Those who run get put down like dogs. Quick. Disposable. Forgettable. But those who stand – those who choose to fight – they’ve earned the right to die with dignity.”

  He pointed his armblade at me. “You chose to fight. So I’ll grant you an honorable exit.”

  My breath caught. My mind reeled.

  What kind of game was this? Who was he?

  But he didn’t care about my confusion or pain.

  “Pick. It. Up.”

  “Honorable death?” I spat, grabbing the sword and forcing myself upright despite the pain. “Honorable death my ass. You’re way stronger than me! What’s honorable about being kicked around by someone like you?! Who are you even?”

  He stood still. Silent.

  Then, he said something that made my blood run cold.

  “Then how about you get stronger for the next time we meet?”

  I blinked.

  What?

  But before I could even begin to fully process it – he moved.

  The pistons on his suit hissed and fired, launching him forward with terrifying speed.

  In less than a second, his blade was already buried handle-deep in my stomach.

  I choked – blood rushing to my mouth – my vision darkening.

  He caught me with one arm, holding my shoulder and pulling my head close to his helm.

  Then, he whispered.

  “That’s what you get for being nosy.”

  And then…everything went black.

  [You’ll now reawaken at the Anchor Point]