It was night when Trace Taylor left with Elizabeth Evergreen to convene with Samuel Diaz. The redhead shivered as a cold wind blew against her jacket, flipping her dangling scarf up like a flag during a breezy day.

“Are we ready?” she asked.

“I still can’t believe that this secret hideout of the Onyx Lair Crew turned out to just be the Onyx Lair Dungeon,” Liz replied. “Mind. Blown. Literally no one would have ever thought about it.”

“I can’t help but sense like you’re throwing a little bit of shade at me,” Sam said, pursing his lips.

Liz chuckled. “What? You’re capping! I totally never would’ve seen it coming. It’s not like it’s in the name or anything.”

“Look, even if it seems obvious, no one but me has actually visited Onyx Lair Dungeon to confirm it.”

“And I just can’t wrap my mind around that. I’m sorry, Trace. I just don’t think I’m ready for such levels of genius.”

The redhead snorted. “I meant: are we ready to go?”

“Oh, that,” Liz said, blinking. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

The plan to deal with the Onyx Lair Crew was simple enough: two groups had been formed, and Trace’s group was the first. The second group consisted of a couple of police officers and volunteers led by Jeremy.

Honestly, unlike Jeremy’s group which numbered in over a dozen, Trace’s group could barely even be considered a group. They were more like a trifling trio compared to what Jeremy’s group brought. An ensemble of idiots. A symphony of sods. A cornucopia of cun—

Although, they could’ve been a quartet if Adair Russell wasn’t adamantly against directly working with Sam. He’d chosen to work alongside Jeremy instead. His logic was that he’d be able to aid the less-experienced fighters in the battle that was to come.

Trace would’ve preferred to have him fighting by her side— it’d be safer for her. However, she understood his logic. It was better to protect the weaker fighters, because they were the ones in greater danger. Even if she hated to admit it, she was quite high-levelled which made her stronger.

[And does that make you a superhero?] a voice in her head asked.

She sighed. “No, Ex,” Trace said mentally, “I’m not a superhero. I’m barely even super, let alone a hero.”

The trifling trio led by Trace made their way out of Liberapolis. However, instead of breaking away from the buildings and the urban landscape, they continued following the road until they arrived at an abandoned small town adjacent to the city. There, they found a collapsed factory building with an obelisk-like tower protruding from its centre.

“Is this it?” The redhead turned to Sam.

“Yeah, this is the place,” he said. “The Onyx Lair Dungeon. It appeared in the middle of this factory and apparently caused something to explode and kill dozens of its workers.”

“Is that why the town’s empty?” she asked, raising a brow. “They evacuated because they were afraid monsters would escape from the Dungeon?”

Trace had noticed a distinct smell— the scent of death permeating the town as ruddy stains smeared the shadows she didn’t dare to peer into. But no. She realised the folly of her own statement after making it.

Dungeon monsters didn’t leave the Dungeon.

“Nope,” Sam answered. “The remaining townspeople were chased out after some… persuasion by the Onyx Lair Crew.”

“Oh.”

And that gave Trace enough of a reason to press on. It was dark and it was cold but the trio found a warm, comfortable room in the factory to camp in for the rest of the night. After all, the plan required them to wait for Jeremy’s group before starting.

“Let’s just go over our roles again,” Trace said, giving Liz a knowing look.

“What? I haven’t forgotten the plan!” the sable-tressed woman protested. “We go in, we kick their asses, and we leave, right?”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “No, Liz. At dawn, Jeremy will arrive and cause a distraction— fake an attack at the Dungeon. When that happens, we sneak in and apprehend that bellend Janus. Force them to surrender.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

However, Sam disagreed. “I know Veronica’s the one who came up with this, and this is no offence to her, but I don’t think it’d be that simple,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Trace frowned.

“She’s expecting the whole gang to fold once Janus is behind bars, but that’s not how gangs, or even organisations, work. We’ll have to make them surrender. Show them we’re not fucking around.”

That was a good point. The redhead didn’t like it but she found herself agreeing with a member of the Precursors of Peace. Am I starting to lose it, too? she questioned her sanity for a brief moment.

[Probably,] Ex opined profoundly.

Thanks for your contribution, Ex. Do you have anything even more useless to say?

[Where is my superhero comic book, Trace Taylor?]

Trace mentally groaned and leant against the cold stone wall. She checked her pistol— counted how much ammo she had left. Ten regular clips— eighty bullets. But that wasn’t all she had on her. In the dark room, she produced a glinting object from her bag as Liz somehow dozed off in the brief lull of conversation.

The redhead held up the twinkling thing— a semi-cylindrical shape that was about the size of her regular bullets.

“What is that?” Sam stared at her, intrigued.

“An aetheric bullet,” she said, showing it to him. “I crafted it yesterday. With my… craft.”

“No shit, really?” He grinned at her. “You made it with your craft?”

“Oh, piss off. My craft is Tinker— I made it as a Tinker.”

“Tinker, huh? What made you choose that as your craft?”

Trace shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it just made sense to me. I mean, you saw what my pistol did against the durable serpentfiend. It was like a peashooter. If I want to be able to hurt stronger monsters, I’d need stronger weapons.”

“And Tinker will help you with that,” Sam said, understanding. However, he tapped a finger on his chin. “But why would you even want to do that?”

“What, kill stronger monsters?”

“Yeah. You don’t seem like the type of person who enjoys fighting. Not like Liz.” He glanced over at the sleeping woman.

The redhead scoffed. “Of course not. Only weirdos and idiots thrive in this insane mess.”

“Did you just call your best friend a weirdo?”

“No, I called her an idiot.” She pursed her lips. “But I guess I’m a bit of a moron, too. That’s why we’re best friends.”

“Aw, I don’t think you’re a bit of a moron. You’re a lot of a moron.”

She glared at him, and he just laughed.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

“Anyways, it’s just… do or die,” she said. “There are definitely monsters even bigger and more terrifying than that durable serpentfiend out there. And I’d rather not die, y’know?”

“That’s fair.” Sam nodded.

The redhead studied his expression. For whatever reason, she could tell that wasn’t the answer he was hoping to hear from her.

“What about you, then?” Trace asked. “Why’re you even part of the Precursors of Peace? Why’re you helping us?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” he answered without much apprehension. “I want to help people. And I believe the Precursors of Peace does just that.”

She stared at him. “Aren’t you a terrorist?”

“I told you, we’re not terrorists. The world has turned over sideways, and the world governments won’t do crap about it. Seriously, Congress was literally destroyed by a horde of monsters because they kept reconvening to argue with each other.”

“Wait, what?” Trace blinked.

Sam raised a brow. “You didn’t hear? It happened two weeks ago, I think. Yeah, pretty much all senators and members of congress are dead. Killed by giant rats, too. Kind of fitting if you ask me, since the lot of them were rats, anyways.”

“That’s kind of a grim joke, Sam.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

“Oh.” She shifted slightly, not meeting his gaze. “I don’t know. I guess a group led by someone who calls himself the fucking Supreme Leader raises some red flags in my mind.”

“Supreme Leader Noah can be a little… eccentric,” Sam said, sighing. “But he’s a good man. You haven’t met him yet. Trust me, you’ll know that he’s a good person once you actually speak with him.”

“I’m not going to let you indoctrinate me to you cult, Sam.” Trace gave him a flat stare.

“Come on, now. You just called us a terrorist group, and now a cult? At least make up your mind.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“How about both? A cult terrorist. Or if you combine them, it’d be a cult…ist. Huh, that’s still just a regular cult.”

“A terror cult, then,” he said, placing a hand on his chin.

“Nope, that’s still just a regular cult, Sam.”

Sam burst out laughing at that.

The night was still long, and there really wasn’t anything else to talk about. So, as Trace waited for morning to arrive, she began to labour on more aetheric bullets. Sam watched her to keep himself from falling asleep. However, somehow, the delicate process of an amateur making magical bullets expedited his trip to dreamland instead.

[(F-) Tinker’s mind has reached level 2!

(F-) Tinker’s mind has reached level 3!

(F-) Tinker’s mind has reached level 4!

(F-) Tinker’s mind has reached level 5!

(E-) Immersed Perception has reached level 3!

(E-) Immersed Perception has reached level 4!

Tinker has reached level 3!

Tinker has reached level 4!]

The only skill she didn’t level for her Tinker craft was Upgraded Schematics. For that skill to even be used, she needed a lot more materials— something which she didn’t have much of right now.

Name: Trace Taylor

Race: Human (Earth A314)

Class: Adept Spellshot – Lvl 18

Vocation: Augur Architect – Lvl 11

Craft: Tinker – Lvl 4

Traits:

Strength: D-

Magic: D+

Endurance: E+

Vitality: E+

Dexterity: D

Skills:

Class Skills:

(F+) Magically Enhanced Accuracy – Lvl 14

(E-) Quick Fire – Lvl 10

(E) Recall Weapon – Lvl 8

(E+) Vulnerability Vision – Lvl 10

(E+) Last in the Chamber – Lvl 9

(D-) Mystic Bullets – Lvl 9

Vocation Skills:

(F) Hasty Design – Lvl 4

(E-) Magically Makeshift Materials – Lvl 3

(E) Silent Construction – Lvl 2

(E+) Restoration and Creation – Lvl 3

(D-) Architect’s Hand – Lvl 3

Craft Skills:

(F-) Tinker’s Mind – Lvl 5

(F+) Upgraded Schematics – Lvl 1

(E-) Immersed Perception – Lvl 4

It was dawn before Trace knew it. The sun lazily dragged itself out of the horizon as she shook Liz and Sam awake.

“Wake up, you lazy asses.”

“Five more minutes—”

“But mum—”

She smacked them both over the heads, and they jolted up. Trace glared at Sam. “Call me mum again and the next time I hit you will be with the butt of my pistol.”

“You’re a violent one, aren’t you?”

“Only when I’m not in the mood for bullshit,” she said, crossing her arms.

Liz yawned and got to her feet. “So, are we doing this, or? …”

“Not yet. Jeremy’s group should be arriving soon. When they do, we’ll want to sneak in around the back of the Dungeon.” The Onyx Lair was a tower with four entrances— one in each cardinal direction. They’d known the layout thanks to Sam’s information. Honestly, it was a good thing they brought him along. “We’ll have to wait for them to cause a distraction, then we can leave.”

“What even is the distraction supposed to be, anyways?” Sam asked, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t think you guys told me—”

Before he could finish, an explosion cut him off. Blasts and gunshots resounded in the distance. A dozen individuals opened fire at the northern entrance of the Onyx Lair. Trace gestured at the flames spewing out into the air.

“That. That’s the distraction.”

“Oh, right. I guess that’s very… distracting.”

“Enough chat.” Liz smirked, drawing her Obsidian Longsword. “It’s time to get lit up in here.”