‘You came back,’ Sham said.

He was sat with Riot back in his dingy, old apartment—an apartment made dingier in his eyes now that he’d seen where the woman lived. Sham was perched on the side of his bed, while Riot took the only actual seat.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And it seems it’s a good job I did. What was that out there, Sham?’

Sham gulped, looked down at the floor at his feet. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, quietly, without making eye contact.

‘That wasn’t the man I knew, out there,’ his friend said. ‘That was… I don’t know what that was.’

‘Thought you said I was… what was the word?’

‘Unsalvageable.’

‘Unsalvageable.’ He looked up to Riot, forced himself to make eye contact, forced himself to, by doing so, own what he’d done.

Riot pressed her lips together, her eyes hooded with sadness. ‘Sham, no. I didn’t mean that. I was… I was a little upset. The voice, Recollection, it had got to me. And what with…’ She trailed off, a lump in her throat that a gulp didn’t seem to shift.

‘Remembering your own death?’

The woman nodded. ‘Yes, with that… it all got a bit much. I said things I didn’t mean. I actually came to the Harbour District to find you. To… apologise. That’s why I was there.’

‘Yeah, well, thank you,’ Sham said. ‘I’m glad you were there. To stop me. I’m glad I had a friend there.’

Riot waved the gratitude away, as though it wasn’t necessary. ‘You were angry, Sham. I’ve seen you all sorts of ways, but never angry.’

‘Oh,’ Sham said, ‘I’ve been angry with you before. In a Loop you don’t remember.’

Riot lent forward. ‘What did I do?’

‘Bail me out of jail.’

The woman furrowed her brow. ‘That… doesn’t sound like something to be angry about.’

Sham shrugged. ‘You had to be there.’

This response did little to un-furrow Riot’s brow, but she didn’t press the matter further. ‘Still,’ she said instead, ‘I’ve never seen you like that. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but… has something happened? Has something changed you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sham replied. ‘I mean… yes. But I don’t know what. Maybe it’s just the Looping. Going round and round and round and not getting anywhere. That’s what they say is the definition of madness, isn’t it? Maybe I’m just going mad.’

‘That doesn’t bode well for—’

‘You?’ Sham guessed. ‘No. I suppose it don’t. Sorry. For dragging you into—’

‘You don’t need to apologise, not any more than you already have. I’m only trying to be clear about our prospects here. How many more Loops do you think you can take?’

Sham shrugged, stood up from his chair and ambled over to a kitchen cupboard. He opened its door to discover that there was nothing inside but a box of burnt matches. ‘How am I suppose to know that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘See? Could be ten more, could be twenty. Could be one. Won’t know until I lose it completely.’

‘Are you sure you haven’t already?’ Recollection’s probing question echoed around his mind.

Riot pursed her lips, raised her eyebrows, and then seemed to catch herself pulling this face. Her expression softened. ‘You definitely think the Loop is the cause? Not the…’ Riot tried to let Sham fill in the blanks, but he remained silent. ‘Not the new skill?’

‘Oi, we’ll have none of this talk, alright?’

Sham tilted his head; he knew the answer to this one already. Vigour’s presence was definitely having an impact on him. Sham was finding urges within himself to do things he would never of dreamed of doing before. That attack on Fog was one such example, and the greatest example too, but there had been others. The fight at the casino had been fueled by anger at his pursuers. The battle with Julya at the Tower, he’d felt his true wrath then, too. Vigour was unearthing something inside him. A something that he wasn’t sure Riot would like.

‘Maybe,’ he answered. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

Riot nodded, considered this a moment, and then said, ‘Look, Sham. Let’s go somewhere.’

‘You mean… a holiday?’

‘What? No. I was thinking a restaurant. Overlooks the Commercial Zone. You have time for that?’

‘Riot…’

‘What?’

‘I have nothing but time.’

Riot had had them call in at her apartment en route to the restaurant, in order to provide Sham with some fresher, smarter clothes. Sham said nothing of the matter but a brief “thank you”, but secretly resented the idea that there were businesses in the city he called home that would deny service based on something as meaningless as the quality of their outfit. But Riot had offered to purchase the meal, and Sham was somewhat intrigued what a truly posh restaurant would look like, so he bit his tongue.

Riot herself changed as well, disappearing to her bedroom to strip away her jacket and trousers, replacing it with a sleek red dress that hugged her body in just the right places. Sham found himself suddenly very captivated by an old map that hung on Riot’s wall, so that his gaze didn’t linger on the friend that he was more and more often internally describing as beautiful.

‘You shaved,’ Riot had said, a note of surprise in her voice, causing Sham to turn to face her.

[MAGNETISM] A SMOOTH ANSWER: FAIL

Your mouth hangs open, but no words seem available to be spoken. There is only the sight before you.

He found his reply lost in his throat—a stumbling that Riot’s wide smile suggested she had enjoyed.

They took advantage of the first few days of the Loop being uncharacteristically warm and dry for the season, and ambled across the city for a short while until they reached their destination: a restaurant at the top of a huge apartment complex called ‘The Heavens’. THE GREATEST VIEW IN ALL OF HAVEN, the sign read, which was an outrageous lie considering how much the enormous Tower was looming over them.

But still—as Sham discovered as he alighted the electrical elevator at the top—the view was quite something. The top floor of the building was used in its entirety by the restaurant. Windows stretched across every wall, facing in every direction but for one corner walled off for the kitchen. Tables sat around the perimeter, affording every patron a stunning view of the city beyond, and the centre of the room was used as a bar area with pendant lights and pristine tiling. A waiter, dressed in a bizarrely white shirt, led Riot and Sham to a table in the far corner, with a view over the Sunrise District.

Lights dotted the landscape below, with more gas lanterns blooming into life with every minute that passed of the sun continuing to set over the horizon.

Riot ordered for the both of them, without giving Sham even a chance to argue. He would’ve done, of course—he didn’t like the idea of someone taking charge for him—but it worked out in his favour. The fragrant curry he was served was inarguably the best thing he’d ever eaten.

They made small talk for a while, Sham getting the sense that Riot was gearing up for Bigger Questions, but he allowed himself to enjoy the situation just this once. Money really could buy happiness; he’d always known that, but it wasn’t until he had eaten a delicious meal with a stunning view of the city he’d grown up in that he truly comprehended that.

‘So,’ Riot said, with the hesitation that suggested she was finally moving onto the topics that really mattered, ‘what is it that you did, before this?’

‘You mean for work?’ Sham answered, a knot forming in his stomach and a lie forming in his mind.

‘Yes.’

Sham opened his mouth. He could lie. He knew that. He had the Rare grade Heart of Janus to prove it. But the question wasn’t so much whether he could as whether he should. Riot was, after all, a friend. ‘I stole,’ he finally said—no skill check required.

Riot finished a bite of her meal as though she hadn’t heard the answer, then carefully sat the spoon back down on the edge of her bowl. ‘You… stole,’ she said.

‘Yes. From the rich. From the insured. Never from anyone who would miss it.’

‘Doesn’t make it right.’

‘No,’ Sham acknowledged. ‘But nothing about this world is right, is it?’

Riot tilted her head to show her partial agreement. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I suppose it isn’t. But—’

‘You don’t know what it’s like in the Harbour District,’ Sham cut her off.

‘Well, I have been there.’

‘Been there, yes. But that’s different to living there. To growing up there. You’re only a tourist in poverty.’

‘You’re saying I should reserve judgement?’

‘I’m saying if you don’t want to have to judge me—or people like me—then give us other options. Give us a chance to make something of ourselves. Give us the bare minimum rights that we deserve. Don’t just assume we’re the sorts to be thieves and sex workers and conmen because it’s in our blood, realise that we’re this way because the world have given us so few other options.’

As Sham trailed off, catching himself in a rant, he caught sight of Riot’s face. It wasn’t warped with her typical anger, or irritation, or sarcastic disapproval. She wore instead a smile in her mouth and a smile in her eyes that mirrored the beauty of her outfit. She was gazing upon him in… fondness? No. It couldn’t be.

‘Did you ever have someone?’ she asked after a moment of silence.

Sham turned, embarrassed, to stare out the window at the city beyond, finding Recollection pushing onto him a vision of the woman with the cigarette burn for a face. ‘I did,’ he said.

‘What happened to her?’ Riot’s voice came gently.

‘Got frustrated with my illness. She left. I—’

‘That’s not—’ Riot started, her tone suddenly indignant.

‘No, don’t blame her. It’s not her fault.’

‘It wasn’t yours either, though. You were sick. She was your partner. It was her duty to stay with you, to help you through it.’

‘For how long?’ Sham threw back at the woman opposite.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘How long would you stay with someone who could barely get out of bed? Who could barely think cos his head was so muddied? How long could you stay with someone who wasn’t able to be a person, let alone a partner?’

Riot opened her mouth, then seemed to give up on the matter. The pair stared out of the window in silence for a matter of minutes.

Out there, the city continued on as it ever did, unaware of the Loop, too aware of its own issues. Crowds parted for an automobile on the streets below the window.

‘Look,’ Sham said, ‘There’s something you should know about your brother.’

Riot’s eyes widened, a gulp running down her throat.

‘No, it’s not… It’s not bad. Necessarily.’

‘Then why are you so hesitant to tell me?’

Sham took a swig of water, stared out at the view of the city. ‘Because I’m worried you might agree with him.’

Riot remained quiet, and Sham could see out of the corners of his eyes that her gaze was fixed upon him. He forced himself to turn back to the woman before continuing.

‘Kryl isn’t just trying to stop the Loop. He’s trying to take down the government while he’s at it.’

The woman opposite raised an eyebrow. ‘I would’ve thought you’d be entirely on board with that goal.’ She took a swig of water.

‘...And he’s trying to replace it with a monarchy.’

Riot choked back the water she’d just swigged, almost like something out of a street performance. ‘A monarchy?’ she replied.

Sham glanced at the diners around him, making sure that none of them had noticed. They all seemed far too preoccupied with one another’s company. ‘Yes, but… keep your voice—’

‘And who does he intend to be our new leader? Himself?’

‘Elmira.’

Riot furrowed her brow. ‘Who?’ she asked, and then with her eyes widening in realisation continued, ‘The child? The young granddaughter of…?’

‘Not so young any more. An adult now. And one with a Charm skill off the charts, if I’m understanding the situation correctly. Seems like she’s playing your brother like a fiddle. Or like an easier to play instrument. Like a tambourine, maybe.’

‘And you thought I would be on board with this?’ Riot’s face expressed proper, sincere, irritation as the idea.

‘Well, yeah. I know you hate the government, after what they did to your—’

Riot waved the end of that sentence away. ‘They’re not the same people that did that.’

‘They’re still evil, though.’

‘Yes. And I would replace them with others in a heartbeat, if I could. But life is rarely that simple. To replace them with an unelected queen, though…’

‘Your family were loyal to the monarchy. I thought—’

Riot sat forward in her chair, leaning across the table so that her face was closer to Sham’s. ‘I’m more than my parents, Sham. Aren’t you?’ Before he could respond, she continued. ‘I’m starting to understand what you think of me. That I’m no more than my wealth to you—’

‘That’s not—’ Sham started to interject.

‘Or I’m little more than my wealth to you, perhaps,’ Riot corrected herself. ‘That I live in a bubble. And I do, of course. But not to the extent that you seem to think. I do want what’s best for people—rich and poor—and I do see that the current government… That Enoch Chambers in particular isn’t achieving that.’

She sat back, as though her point was made.

‘How much have you done to correct that, though?’ Sham replied.

‘How much have you done, Sham?’

Sham’s heart dropped. The words were, for a moment, lost in his throat. ‘Not… not enough.’

‘Hard, isn’t it?’ Riot replied. ‘One person against a system. Very few achieve any meaningful change, and most fall back into the only coping mechanism they know.’

‘Apathy,’ Sham said.

‘Exactly.’

Silence fell between them, broken only by Riot sighing and pulling herself up from her chair. ‘I’ll have to call it there, Sham,’ she said. ‘It’s good to see you’re feeling better. And this was…’ She gestured to the table. ‘This was nice.’

‘Yeah,’ Sham said. ‘It was.’

They looked at one another with gentle gaze and sad smiles, and then Sham asked, ‘So… you’re getting the bill?’