It wasn’t surprising, Sham supposed, that he’d earned himself a skill point. All the action of the last few days had been more than he’d seen in the past few months combined. Or… who was he kidding with that? More than he’d seen in the past few years. So it was no wonder that he’d built up some experience in the background.

Maybe he’d be able to wrangle himself a Vigour point. Or Joy, maybe even. Something that would fix his illness, or make his life just a little more easy-going on the soul. All he’d need to do was keep completing these quests, unlocking these achievements, and then, eventually… He’d get something useful. And it wasn’t like his was giving up on his The Paradox and Save The Tower quests any time soon. Not when lives hung in the balance.

All these grand schemes and ideas Sham tried to focus on as he was transported away from the scene of the jailbreak, instead of considering the sack tied over his head and the revolver wedged into the crease of his back.

It wasn’t working.

Sham had known better than to try to flee. With his vision obscured, there was approximately zero chance of getting out of sight of his attacker before the gun was fired. His best option? Stick with it, find out where he was headed, and try and talk his way out of it. Using his smarts always seemed to work out better for him than using his feet. Or his fists.

His assailants hadn’t bothered to hide him. They walked him down the streets plain as day, revolver in back, though it probably helped that by this point it was the early hours of the morning, and the sun was still at rest somewhere far beyond the horizon.

It took a good hour to reach their final destination, and with all the turns they took, Sham struggled to place where they’d headed. Based on the gravel beneath his feet and the thick odour of smog in the air, they were still in the city, but far away from where the jailbreak had taken place, back in the Darkyards.

But it would turn out that he didn’t need to work it out; the answer would become obvious the second the sack was removed from Sham’s head. As he blinked his eyes into focus, struggling momentarily with the lights that flickered in this building he found himself, a figure stooped over his kneeling self. One with a familiar face.

‘Hi there, mate,’ Asa said. ‘How’s it going?’

Sham licked his lips. Considered his words carefully. With the threat that Asa and his organisation posed, one mis-step could cost Sham his life.

‘Caused us quite a bit of trouble, you did,’ Asa went on, before Sham could speak. ‘Care to tell me why you ran from my… colleagues?’

The man had a flair for the dramatic, putting such emphasis on the word “colleagues” that it came out more foreboding than it might otherwise have achieved.

‘You kill me and you never get what you traded those vials for,’ Sham responded. It was time to be firm; people like Asa responded to strength. And Sham would have to pretend that he had some.

Asa looked up at his so-called colleagues—one holding a hand firmly on Sham’s shoulder to stop him from rising, and at least two more behind Sham that he didn’t fancy risking turning to look at. ‘Oh, is that so?’ Asa asked.

‘Yes. That paperwork? It’s hidden. Safe. But hidden. And you won’t get their location until you guarantee my safety.’

The criminal smiled, a broken tooth glowing in the low light of the gas lanterns. ‘And how are you suggesting I do that, then?’

‘Skill vials. Lots of them. Vigour, and Fleet of Foot, and Fluke.’ Sham resisted the urge to add Joy to that list; such an addition would only make him seem weak. Like his emotions had power over him. They did, of course—Sham suspected there wasn’t a person alive who could truthfully say so—but Asa didn’t need to hear it.

‘Right,’ Asa said. ‘Or…’ He looked up at one of his colleagues in the room, and waved them over.

Sham’s heart dropped when he saw who it was. The gentleman from the prison transport automobile, Gresley, stood smiling down patiently at the kneeling Sham. In his hand, he gripped the paperwork that Sham had traded for at Plenty Harbour, and he thrusted it in Asa’s direction.

‘Now,’ Asa said, ‘What was that you were saying about your life?’

Sham found himself speechless. It made a change.

‘Laz,’ Asa said, looking now at the man holding Sham by the shoulder. ‘See that our loose end is tied up, won’t you?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘Now, wait just a minute,’ Sham started, trying to pull himself to his feet but meeting too much resistance against his weakened body. ‘I can—’

‘No,’ Gresley said.

Asa, struck with the wide eyes of surprise for the first time in Sham’s presence, turned to face his apparent acquaintance. ‘No?’

‘You won’t harm him,’ the gentleman continued.

‘What? You don’t get to boss me about,’ Asa responded, nostrils flaring with a sudden and encompassing fury. ‘That ain’t part of our deal.’

‘You would go against my instructions? You do remember who I report to, do you not?’

Asa’s glare weakened, just for a moment. ‘Why?’ he said after a moment of consideration. ‘What’s he to you?’

Gresley, apparently no stranger to showmanship himself, clasped his hands behind his back and paced up to the end of the warehouse room before responding. ‘We will need people like him, when the revolution comes.’

Wait, what?

QUEST UNLOCKED: LIFE IN THE REVOLUTION

Pick a side in the coming storm.

Revolution?

‘People like what?’ Asa retorted. ‘Morons?’

‘Far from it,’ Gresley replied. ‘Sham here has not just the intellect but the values that my employer seeks. We should be fostering the development of people like him, not cutting their lives short. Do you follow?’

‘Mate, I ain’t even gonna pretend to.’

‘But you’ll do as I say?’ Gresley said, turning to make eye contact with Sham.

Sham took the opportunity to bow a grateful nod; it didn’t hurt to suck up to newfound allies, he figured, not when your life was hanging in the balance.

‘This time,’ Asa answered.

Sham could see the power that Gresley held over the man. People like Asa didn’t bow to anything but authority, and if Gresley could stay his gun, then… perhaps it was time to seize this opportunity. He’d just need to mean it. ‘There is the matter of my payment,’ Sham said.

[COMMAND] I’VE EARNED IT: FAIL

Have you? Have you earned it? Or have the past few days just been you falling over your feet? Repeatedly. Don’t kid yourself; Asa sees straight through this charade.

Asa looked once again flabbergasted, but this time in Sham’s direction. ‘I think your life is payment enough yeah?’

‘You promised him pay?’ Gresley asked.

‘I…’

‘If you promise him pay, then you pay. We work with honour.’

Asa blinked back his bemusement. ‘We’re thieves, Gres. And you’re working with us.’

‘That’s no excuse. Pay the man what he’s due.’

The criminal sighed, reached into his pocket, and drew from it a skill vial, handing it in Sham’s direction. ‘Perspicacity.’

‘I asked for Vigour,’ Sham responded.

‘It’s this or nothing. Take it or leave it.’

Sham screwed up his face. Vigour would have been nice. Vigour would have helped keep the fatigue at bay. It would ward off the sickness, the prickling flesh, the pains running through his deepest muscles. Perspicacity… wouldn’t. But might help him complete enough quests that he could get Vigour. He nodded to Asa, reached forward for the vial.

‘Yeah, I…’ Sham started, then shook his head and pulled the vial from Asa’s grasp. He moved for the cork cap, meaning to open it, but Gresley’s arm whipped to stay his.

‘Those vials…’ the gentleman said, ‘You haven’t consumed one recently, have you?’

Sham opened his mouth to give his answer, but found that he didn’t know whether or not to provide this near stranger with the truth.

‘No matter,’ Gresley said. ‘Just know this: you should give it some time, between vials. Or there can be… side effects.’

‘How long?’

Gresley tilted his head from side to side. ‘Three days seems to be enough. Two at a push. But no sooner. It can… hurt you. Hurt others.’

‘Are we done?’ Asa interrupted. ‘Or is there something else you need?’

Sham shrugged, muttered, under his breath, ‘Not unless you know where Kryl is.’

All faces in the room snapped to face him.

‘Ah,’ he muttered, realising very quickly that he might have just made a big mistake.

‘Where did you hear that name?’ Asa asked, his hand hovering awfully close to his holstered revolver, as though he might change his mind on the ‘loose end’ thing.

Sham tried to play it cool, shrugging the question off. ‘Friend of a friend. Gone missing. I’m looking for him.’

Gresley eyed Asa, but said nothing.

The criminal himself snorted. ‘Best come with me,’ he said.

Asa led Sham through the warehouse complex and out down the metallic stairwell that he’d crept along not three days earlier. The guards nodded at them, unphased, as Asa showed Sham to the rear of the building, where it backed onto dirty waters.

MEMORY UNLOCKED (RECOLLECTION)

Your toes skim the surface of the filthy water, your legs—

‘Nope,’ Sham said to himself, quiet enough that Asa couldn’t hear. ‘None of that.’

They came, finally, to a stop at the very end of one of the wooden piers, and Asa stared down into the water below.

‘It’s a funny thing, life, isn’t it?’ Asa eventually said.

‘Gresley said his employer would make you regret it if you killed me.’

But Asa waved Sham down. ‘Oh, calm down. I ain’t talking about that.’

‘What, then? You just getting philosophical on me?’

Asa ignored the question. It was rhetorical anyway. ‘You wander through life for decades, each day a struggle, like. But you make it through them, day by day, overcoming every obstacle that life throws your way. Until one day… you don’t. Now that might be an illness, sure. Or it might be a speeding automobile. Or a collapsing roof. Or maybe… the barrel of a gun.’

Sham waited for Asa to continue. Nothing came. ‘What? What are you talking about? Where’s Kryl?’

Asa lifted a hand, pointed into the waters below. ‘Look.’

The time traveller kept his distance from Asa—not quite willing to risk him trying anything—as he peered over the edge into the waters below. They were dark, murky, and it was difficult to make out much of anything beneath the surface. ‘What am I looking at?’ Sham asked.

‘You wanted to know where Kryl was...’ Asa said.

Sham’s stomach plummeted.

‘...So I’m showing you. You’re looking at his grave.’