"Why are we turning here?" Veigan said as we guided the horses into a dark alley. "Please, don't kill me. I don't want to die."

  “Relax, it’s a shortcut.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  Correct. It wasn’t. But 150 feet up ahead, two Royal Guards were sitting on a bench sharing a bottle of moonshine and I didn’t feel like explaining my excellent night vision.

  After an awkward silence, he seemed to realize he wasn’t on the chopping block.

  "That was not magic. Magic requires mana as does all life. Its absence was evident. Monsters manifested without incantation or physical gesture… I've seen a lich before. Father took me and my brothers to watch one of the raid teams he owned fight a dungeon guardian. Even at the age of five, I sensed its dreadful mana from a mile away,” he said.

  A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and he continued. "As I watched you disembowel the Shadow Warden, I wondered how such advanced maneuvers were possible without a trace of mana. It was after I was covered in blood, and the fear took over—I noticed a low frequency hum. It was like the noise had always been there, yet I was only hearing it then for the first time."

  "Don't," I interjected. "Barret listened too closely and lost his head. It's as Garik said, I operate outside the boundaries of your reality."

  "You were not present when the oaf said that."

  "Some truths are better left buried under a mountain of ignorance for the sake of self-preservation."

  Veigan looked down at his hands and saw red, realizing he was still wearing his blood soaked raincoat. He unbuttoned it and ditched it as we turned out of the alley, onto another mist-shrouded road.

  "I had hoped showing you the extent of my power would ease your concerns regarding the mission."

  "What mission? The blanket statement you made about tearing down the world's oppressors? It sounded less like a mission and more like the ramblings of a madman."

  Veigan stopped himself from saying anything further, fear returned as he averted his gaze from my masked face.

  "No, that's good. Tell me how you really feel. This is the perfect opportunity for some team bonding."

  "I feel you’re an unhinged, deeply disturbed individual who doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.”

  Nailed it.

  “And you said my soul needs redemption? You can’t even count how many lives you’ve ended tonight. Nobles protect nobles, and Daven Murpharion has family. Why trifle with his empire? Strong as you are, there’s always someone stronger.”

  The wheels creaked, and I slid my mask off, hoping to ditch the unhinged madman allegations.

  "Seizing his operation will be a great source of funds. After it outlives its use and we've mapped out its every inch, we dismantle it. I imagine Daven Murpharion's death will stir many roaches into the light, as well.”

  “Murpharion’s operation goes further than the Stacked Deck, and Kelfloss’s thrift store. You can’t just come in, kill a bunch of muscle and claim ownership over a network this complex.”

  “Hmm…”

  Vegan shook his head in his hands. "Do you think the gangs of Ingcaster will bow before your alter ego?"

  "If they don't, they'll disappear. Eventually, those that value their lives will accept the new order."

  "The Slaver's Union will make a run on Murpharion's territory. The streets will be thrown into turmoil."

  "More non-factors. What I'm setting out to accomplish is an inevitability, not a far flung fantasy. Aclana will soon enter a new era. Taking over his operations is a mere stepping stone—a resource to help us prepare for what is to come."

  Veigan closed his eyes for a while, likely wanderlusting after better days. "One man cannot drag a country into a new age."

  "No, but a cabal pulling strings from the shadows can do it. Start brainstorming names. Think mysterious and spooky, but not scary-spooky, I’m talking smart-spooky, like, 'Oh fuck, how does the cabal always see one step ahead,' and, 'Shit, we went against the cabal, and now everyone in our organization is decapitated.’ Something everyone on this side of society will know and fear.”

  Before we turned onto a street with a stream of late night delivery traffic that funneled onto the beltway, I hopped down from the horse. "Soon you'll need to decide if you wish to follow me. Garik cannot babysit you forever. Nor do I need uncommitted members in the cabal. I'm sure there are plenty of individuals who would jump at the chance to gently guide the world in the right direction."

  "Like I have a choice," Veigan muttered.

  "Everyone always has a choice."

  As he realized I was leaving him alone with 20,000 gold coins and no further directions he asked, "Where are you going?"

  "I worry Mr. Murpharion will flee when he realizes the severity of the situation he's in."

  ***

  The Fated Twins unloaded their dressers, filling crates and trunks with lavish clothes and jewelry. I happened upon them first, by complete chance, after I had tapped into the tether point in the dining room with Void Seer and began my sweep outward through Daven's mansion.

  With one crate and two trunks filled, they loaded them onto a brass cart, moving from the bedroom to their spacious personal study. Octavian filled another crate with books while Humphrey filled a pillowcase with vintage silverware from a cabinet.

  A level two servant heard the commotion and quietly bowed into the room’s doorless entryway. "Master must be sending you both on an arduous journey. Is there any way I can assist?"

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Yes, please fetch a furniture dolly and load this tea cabinet into our caravan," Humphrey said.

  "Right away, sirs."

  Once the servant was out of earshot, Octavian smiled and said, "Good, thinking brother. We may want some tea in Durotai."

  "Brother, did you pack extra pillows?"

  "Yes, of course."

  Cousins. You're both cousins. No one's around. Why the charade?

  The lights flickered once and Humphrey dropped a vase. It shattered. Octavian stumbled backward and tripped over a footstool that had fallen off their overstuffed cart. Tears streamed down his gaunt cheeks, yelping under his breath as he lay on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Ow, ow, ouch, ow..."

  "Brother, are you whole?"

  "The gods have abandoned this place," he cried as he stood, using the cart as leverage. "Two omens in one night. We must depart now and I'm afraid that means leaving the tea cabinet behind."

  Humphrey pouted, dead fish eyes welling with tears of his own. "I loved this cabinet."

  "Remember what Mother said."

  Octavian wore a sad smile. "When you experience an unexplained phenomenon, sever all duties, all ties, relocate to another continent, and make no moves for a year. Her rules have kept us alive this long. We may no longer have a friend in Mr. Murpharion, but we will still have our youth."

  Youth? You two look like you're in the ancient demographic that falls for scam calls.

  "The awful hum is back," Octavian started.

  "And it's louder than before," Humphrey finished.

  "I fear our dear friend Murpharion has invoked the wrath of a demon."

  Void Seer distorted and I reeled my vision back through the crack in the wall, passing through halls until it stabilized. If I had more than an hour before dawn, I would have rushed in and cut off their escape.

  However, my body was a five minute high speed dash away, prone in a bush on the outskirts of the Regal Plaza and I still had no clue where Daven was in his labyrinth of a mansion.

  Dense patrols of Royal Guards were stationed on the corners of almost every street. And Karma's Gaze had shown many of them with positive karma and wholesome backgrounds. Getting into a prolonged engagement was a no-go.

  This was an assassination.

  I passed through hallway to hallway until I heard Daven's grating voice shouting at one end. Dozens of low level guards occupied a hallway that led to a private study connected to a master bedroom identical to the one the Fated Twins had looted.

  The hunger rumbled and I ignored it, hopping from shadow to shadow, avoiding the light until I could creep Void Seer under the door.

  "I'll have his taint ripped off. He claims the phantom killed them all. The Herald of Chains, Toom's crew, the extra muscle we hired. And this little piece of shit has the audacity to recommend we cede our operations and territory to an anonymous man? I want Kelfloss flogged first—then we taint rip."

  The we in “taint rip” stopped Owen from finishing a homemade pickle sandwich, which he wrapped and packed away into his lunch sack.

  "Worry not sir, the Fated Twins will uncover the truth as they promised," Owen said as he walked over to the study's massive window, squinting hard past his own reflection where he saw the Fated Twins' caravan stacked with chests bound in layers of ropes over six feet high, outfitted like they were headed for the Oregon Trail, not a quick visit to the Merchant's Promenade.

  Owen closed the curtains, his complexion now riding shotgun with the Fated Twins out of the country with no small portion of the mansion's furniture and whatever else that hadn't been bolted down.

  "In the morning I'll contact my brother. I'll wear a smile like this." Daven flashed a grin, teeth stained red from the wine. "And ask for his help. Who out there is foolish enough to steal from a Murpharion?"

  "Only fools," Owen said, stealing another glance through the curtain's tiny gap, half-convinced the sight was conjured from his imagination, only for him to now notice half the mansion's staff joining the twins on their pilgrimage to greener pastures.

  "You look unwell." Daven took two steps toward him and the window.

  "It's nothing, perhaps I drank too much." Owen clasped the curtain closed tight behind him.

  "Vomit in front of me and I'll have you drowned in it."

  "Of course, my Lord." Owen nodded, face blank like he had heard it all a thousand times before.

  Daven let out an exaggerated sigh. "He'll be livid. However, I see no other option. The phantom was an interesting novelty at first, when he was wiping out Thunder and Fang, the Sanguine Syndicate, and forcing the Slaver's Union to double their security's capital expenditure. The Herald of Chains was strong, yes?"

  "He was among the strongest."

  "The Fated Twins... They're stronger, no?"

  "They are legends."

  "Excellent. Perchance in the morning, I'll hear good news of the phantom's death. They will undoubtedly handle this rude inconvenience. ”

  The lord turned his back and took a drunk walk toward the door to the master bedroom.

  "Oh, remind me tomorrow to have the mage who imbued those chandeliers in the dining room killed along with his bloodline."

  "Yes, my Lord."

  He bowed as Daven stepped into the bedroom doorway.

  "I'm retiring for the night," the noble said.

  "Yes, my Lord."

  Owen held his bow for an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, Daven cleared his throat.

  "Goodnight."

  "Goodnight, my Lord."

  ***

  I strolled outside of the estate’s property line like a ghost. Truthfully, I had expected more fuss traversing the Regal Plaza, but I hadn't even needed to use Invisibility. The Fated Twin's late night escape caravan acted as the perfect distraction, drawing most of the Royal Guard's attention toward the main inroads.

  I hopped over the pristine carved stone wall and landed in the sprawling backyard, eyes fixed on the tall second-floor window. Darkness covered my light jog across the yard, moist grass absorbing quiet steps. I sprang onto an awning that stretched over the patio and closed in on the looming window.

  Dagger Step.

  I teleported an impressive six inches onto the other side of the glass pane, putting me one turn from a guard-filled corridor leading to Daven's private study and bedroom.

  The hunger stirred as I peered around the corner, counting over 20 guards. Like a junkyard dog catching a whiff of steak, it bloomed. Legs shaking, palms clammy, I closed my eyes and pushed back against the intense energy.

  "You will learn to sit before you eat."

  I waited until the inner turmoil settled, then turned the corner. The magelights spasmed with light before they dimmed, alerting everyone to my arrival at the end of the hall. They drew their weapons as darkness seeped out from my feet.

  Trickle. Trickle.

  I held it back, only letting it out bit by bit. Darkness claimed the windows and both ends of the hall, boxing them in.

  "Not yet," I said through gritted teeth.

  A level eight burst ahead of the panicked herd. It was like he knew if he didn't move now, he'd lose all his will to fight like his cohorts. The darkness consumed the corridor's shape, blotting out every fixture. It turned and the corridor shifted with it, knocking them all off balance.

  The level eight's gravity inverted and he went spiraling up through the ceiling.

  Did I say you could eat, yet?

  The ceiling spat him out and he slammed head first into the floor. They screamed, but nothing came out. Meanwhile the pressure mounted inside me, like the entity was prodding my organs with a fork.

  A screeching violin note tore through the air like someone scraped broken glass across its strings. I clenched my teeth, watching the guards tumble in the gravity-less vortex.

  Now.

  The darkness snapped closed, the magelights gently reignited, and the hallway stood empty; no blood, no loose weapons or sign of a struggle aside from an indent in the wood where the level eight had bashed his head.

  +575 XP

  +160 Karma

  I strolled down the hall with light feet. The numb gnawing hunger I had grown accustomed to was nowhere to be found. Like the entity was dormant at last.

  I entered the private study braced for combat. A cool summer breeze slipped through the open window, rustling the curtains. Owen was gone.

  Smart move.

  The bedroom door was unlocked. So, I let myself in.

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