Grey walked into the Dungeon of the paper-men. Or the Scribes, he guessed they were called, though it was a name of Jessica’s devising, one his daemons had picked up. It was the same as it always had been, or at least so it looked.

His careful eye spotted minute differences. Individually, they were nothing, but taken as a whole, Grey felt it was obvious that something was amiss. His face betrayed nothing, however.

Beneath his armor and clothes, he felt a Script writhe. It was nothing crazy, just one that stored kinetic energy and used it to disrupt incoming blows, but a few of his own alterations had made it particularly useful for what was to come. The Evolution was still his primary battle option, after all.

He entered the boss room as normal, greeting Curious with a nod. “Apologies for not making it back sooner. Other duties have kept me away.”

The problem was that the paper-men knew a lot about him, but it was mostly lies and half-truths. They didn’t know of Dungeon Master. Jessica most likely knew of Battle Scripting and some of Single Player from them, however. That was a sacrifice he had to make. Without bait, she would have never bitten.

“Books are quite patient, I’ve found.” Curious laid down the book it was reading. “How is your progress with Battle Scripting?”

Grey nodded. A distraction, then. He was sure it was Jessica’s intention to capture, not kill, but mistakes were made in battle. He readied the kinetic energy he had stored within. It would not hold much longer, the blows coming from a commanded daemon prior to his entrance.

“Quite good. I was hoping to receive another book, actually.”

“Of course, of course.” He walked over to a shelf and pulled a book free.

Grey walked towards the paper-man and accepted the book. Then a projectile shot from behind him. It wasn’t metal. He kept all expression from his face, using his kinetic energy to slow its momentum until the dart pricked his skin and fell out. Immediately, fighters poured out from behind the stacks of books, running towards Grey. He stumbled on purpose. The poison on the dart was taking effect, though perhaps not as much as they believed.

He looked at Curious and smiled. “You’ve made a great mistake, my friend. I look forward to punishing you for it.” He leaned forward. “I will burn your books, burn your people, burn everything until you know me only as your god.”

Then the fighters were upon him. He softened their blows and stumbled away from their impacts. Waves of Evolutions- many of them mental- struck his mind, shutting his consciousness down bit by bit. Eventually, he fell.

Consciousness fled. It returned in spurts, showing him glimpses of the street, of buildings, of men and women in suits. Several daemons tracked him from afar, but they had strict orders on when and where they could intervene. More importantly, two of their number spread his final commands, and one- a very special one, mind you- used his kidnappers’ movements to find a special place to wait in ambush.

It was time to begin.

Battle plan started.

---

Jessica opened her eyes. She had him. She had him! It had cost only a few lives, her numbers overwhelming his weakened power.

She quelled the heart that fluttered at memory’s of licking flame. She had to think calmly. He seemed genuinely surprised, and while Grey wasn’t the best actor, he was an excellent mimic. She had seen him copy mannerisms with surprising accuracy.

She thought from his perspective. Why would she get caught on purpose? The answer was clear. He would want to get close to her. She mulled the option over. It was possible. Unlikely, however. Her people had watched the Scribe Dungeon since she had come to an agreement with the leader.

Suddenly, her assistant- the healer Henna- poked her head through the door. “Ma’am, the attack on Grey’s family has begun.”

She thrusted her consciousness into one of her puppets. A man in black armor hacked through the neck of the woman in front of her, splattered her face with blood. Its gleaming purple eyes landed on her. Then the connection disappeared. Severed.

Jessica reeled back in her seat. Could it be?

“Henna, pull up the descriptions of the Rage Knight.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The file landed in front of Jessica.

“Son of a bitch.” She had known the man was overly stand-offish, but she had attributed it to a healthy dose of paranoia. Grey had gotten to him first. “Send the tracker and a large team after Grey’s family. They are going to get away, but they’ll lead us to some valuable assets.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her mind ran, and she looked out her window. How had he found his family? Her men had watched that location. The Scribe had told her his Evolution allowed him to purchase whatever kind of Evolutions he wanted. He had picked up some sort of scrying Evolution, maybe? It would explain how he had found the Rage Knight, as well.

Then how hadn’t he found her? She was well-hidden, as her commands didn’t need to be delivered in person when she used a puppet. Her room was protected from some Evolutions thanks to one of her men who had an ability to block such things. Was that it?

A shock traveled through one of her mental links. Then another. Then three. She thrusted her mind into one, only to find it had been severed. Then many of the rest went. Dead. Fucking dead. Except for one. She thrusted her mind into Allona, the sister of the Rage Knight. She saw only the inside of a dark bag. Clever. He disguised the kidnapping in a series of assassinations. It would’ve worked had she not been able to sense what those under her command did.

She threw the door open. “Henna, send a team after Allona Hill. She has been captured.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Another pang echoed through her connection, and she thrusted her mind into that. A familiar, smiling face greeted her.

“Hello, Jessica,” Grey Shor said. He sat in the middle of a street. The corpses of the team she had sent to kill him laid around him.

She almost ripped away immediately, phantom pain rippling through her face. “Grey,” she said through her puppet. Her mind ran. “You’ll have to excuse me for a moment.”

He waved a hand. “Take your time. I’ve already narrowed down your location to a small number of locations. Tracking your minions’ course was quite easy, actually. Direct route? I expected better.”

She withdrew her awareness and shouted to Henna, telling her to send a team after Grey and to bring up the prisoners. Then she was back. “And I expected you to be unconscious and suppressed. Funny how that works.”

He smiled. “Quite. When will that team be here, you think? Ten minutes, maybe? Fifteen? I suppose I have at least that much time to spare. So let’s talk.”

She wrote down a few more instructions and handed them off to Henna in her real body. “Let’s.”

“So you got to Alin in the Tutorial? That was clever, commanding him to set the Hunters so you had an enemy for the ARA to oppose.”

She laughed with a foreign voice. “The Tutorial taught me much. Did you know they call us Irregulars? The Archons, I mean. They call those of us who are put into strange Tutorials and given special interference Irregulars.”

He raised an eyebrow. Hook, line, and sinker. Every moment he spent on her was another she had to get everything into place for her plan.

“And why are we the chosen few?”

“Our Evolutions. Choosing Evolutions was a test in itself,” she said. “Choosing particularly powerful ones merit closer attention and a firmer touch.”

“Did they tell you as much?”

“Well, I’d have to explain my Tutorial first, but to do that…”

He smiled wide. Like a predator. “Of course I’ll tell you about mine. It’s only fair, after all.”

The smile rose almost unbidden. How refreshing was this? The games were open, the cards dealt, the dies cast.

“I woke up with five other people in a village. It was populated with humans, only they weren’t real. Well, their bodies might have been, but their minds were wiped and installed with a program of sorts.

“They were NPC’s,” she said, nodding at him. “I’m sure you can understand. They were made for me. I broke their minds and unlocked new dialogue options. The feelings overwhelmed me. Without even questioning it, I broke my companions- who were quite real- without a thought. It was a perfect world, one designed to reward me for using my Evolution.”

“Interesting. Mine was much less… pleasant.” Grey looked up at the sky. “I awoke in a desert. It was barren, filled with white sand, red rocks, and the occasional oasis.” He laughed. “And the monsters. They were strong, stronger than Silver monsters here. Not quite Gold, but close. And they slaughtered me. The Archons interfered, brought me back to life. Then I died again. And again after that. The first few I remember well. A scorpion’s stinger the size of two fists spearing through my skull. A claw ripping my intestines from my stomach. The pain is blocked, but the images linger. Always linger.”

She felt the horror dimly. Grey was more of a monster than she had believed. The Archons had made him one. They had a purpose, a plan. They wanted a monster, an evil, something for humanity to rally against.

“Well, I guess you win there,” she said. “Mine seemingly doesn’t compare.”

He produced a water bottle from behind him and sipped. “Maybe, maybe not. So tell me, what happens if you win here?”

She thought for a moment. “I consolidate my power in the city. Spread it outward. Restore order. I want to save humanity.”

He laughed. “Do you want humanity saved, or do you specifically want yourself to be the savior?”

She frowned, not letting the expression carry past her true body. “Do they have to be mutually exclusive?”

“They don’t.” Grey leaned forward. “But they are different.”

“Perhaps the god complex is best left to you.”

“Undoubtedly. But according to you, the Archons made me that way, right? What other reason would they have for making Irregulars other than to craft winners? They need an anchor for the world’s Chi, something to hold this process of Evolution in place, and it seems they’re willing to make one.”

She wondered what all his Tutorial had taught him. It was different from hers, focusing on power and how to gain it rather than why things were happening. That was the difference between them. Jessica looked for the underlying cause; Grey cared only to take advantage of the effect.

Henna peeked her head in the room Jessica’s real body was in. “The prisoners have been brought up. Everything is in order.”

Through her puppet, she spoke. “Oh, Grey, it seems I must cut our conversation short.”

He nodded. “This is it, then,” he said, looking at his hands. His eyes rose, met hers with strange intensity. “It has been fun. Too fun. I let myself hesitate on the rooftop because I wanted this to continue. But I won’t hesitate again, Jessica.”

She felt a strange emotion wash over her. “And neither will I.”

He stood. “Before you go, let me offer you a piece of advice. How many teams have you sent out now? Three, four, a dozen? All very large, all no doubt chasing after the various leads thrown your way. There’s something I learned recently, something that might help you.

“Never spread your line too thin.” His smile was still wide when her puppet died, killed by something unseen.

She returned to her real body with phantom pain. The side of her face burned. She thrusted her consciousness into a new body, and she felt shock rip through her.

He controlled the Dungeons.