Investigating the location of a gang of kidnappers wasn’t as harrowing as Ryan had thought it would be. He and Casey had crept into the warehouse district next to the river, expecting criminals and assassins to be hanging from the eaves of every building and street corner, daggers clenched between their teeth and leering at them. Instead, it was just like walking through town, just dirtier. And smellier.

“Is it bad that everybody here looks the same to me? I can’t even tell what they do for a living, let alone if they’re criminals or not.” Ryan swatted at the flies buzzing around his face, looking around at the crowded street. Everyone, both men and women, seemed to have bought their clothes from the same mundane trade outfitter.

Ryan looked over at Casey. She had been walking in silence for a while and he could see the tension and urgency had been drained out of her by the mundane surroundings and lack of results. She dodged to the side as a porter hauling a cart careened through where she had just been standing. Tossing a dirty look at the man over her shoulder, she grunted in dissatisfaction but didn’t pursue the guy.

“They do all look alike. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but they’re not jumping out and announcing themselves. It’s like, either everybody is suspicious looking, or nobody is suspicious looking, and that just makes me more suspicious,” Casey said.

Ryan couldn’t help but agree. They had wandered everywhere on the north side of the district, except for the river. Ryan took the next corner heading in that direction and thought about what they would do if they found anybody. He gripped his spear tighter. He didn’t feel ready to take on criminals, who no doubt didn’t worry about killing people. Avoiding discovery was the best outcome, and failing that, avoiding a fight.

Ryan focused his mind on [Spatial Cognition], which had been doing its thing in the background. He’d been feeling some indistinct blips zipping in and out of the short range he had it set at. Playing around with the sensitivity, he found where the blips came from. The flies were zipping in and out of his range, and there were a lot more of them than he’d been aware of. He supposed that made sense, given that they were in a warehouse district, with filthy streets, stagnant water, and who knew what else rotting in dark corners.

As the sun descended toward the horizon, they approached the riverside warehouses. Porters rushed to unload the last of the cargo from various river boats as foreman shouted at their workers to hurry it up, but otherwise nothing had changed from the rest of the warehouse district. Everyone appeared to be doing normal everyday work. Ryan swatted at a few more flies that tried to end their own lives in his mouth and nose.

They continued down the street next to the river, looking for something, anything, out of the ordinary. They had passed a few identical looking warehouses when Ryan noticed an abrupt change. The flies still buzzed around, but they were more... something. He wanted to say more organized, but that was ridiculous. It felt like they were coming and going in waves. It reminded him of a sonar screen in a submarine.

Casey stiffened beside him. She latched onto his arm and dragged him into the shadow cast by the setting sun on the nearby warehouse wall. She glared in the direction they had been walking, spotting something that Ryan couldn’t identify.

“I recognize that guy. Not at the next boat, but the one after that. He’s standing there with his arms crossed. His hair is tied up the same way, and he’s ugly as sin. He was there when they grabbed my parents.”

Ryan strained to see the guy she had singled out. He searched through the crowd of identical men and found him standing just as she had said, but he failed to find anything about the man that made him stand out. Ryan quickly swiped his hands at the flies around his face, trying to clear his vision, but not trying to attract attention. He noticed a few other people standing around in the same area and a few workers unloading their boat. The workers seemed more bedraggled and worn than usual; very subdued.

“You’re sure? He doesn’t seem any different from anybody else.”

“Yup, I’m sure. He’s definitely one of the kidnappers.”

The swarm of flies, which was already agitated, abruptly zeroed in on Ryan and Casey. The feedback from Ryan’s [Spatial Cognition] told him that the vectors of every fly within spitting distance suddenly converged on Casey.

Ryan looked between the swarm of bugs and the man that Casey was convinced was one of the kidnappers, and a premonition forced itself to the front of his mind. He thought back to the odd behavior of the bugs during their walk through the district and realized that the closer they came to this location, the more the behavior of the swarm changed.

The man’s head snapped in their direction, his eyes locked onto Casey. Ryan tensed; the man was too far away to have heard. His sensing ability told him that the swarm was still converging on Casey and that put the last nail in the coffin of evidence that had slowly built itself up in the back of his head. The man was using the flies as some sort of perception ability.

“Run, he heard us. He’s controlling the flies. Don’t look back, just keep running.” He shoved her down the narrow street along the wall next to them.

They ran out of the side street into the next intersection, dodging workers and pedestrians, and turned toward the gate into the city proper. The roads had cleared somewhat, as the work day started winding down, but there were still enough to impede their path. Ryan turned off the crowded avenue, opting for the deserted side streets. If it was a race to get to the gate first no matter whether they knew his location, he would rather have a path clear of people to run into.

The swarm of flies hadn’t kept up with their pace, but Ryan saw flies everywhere. Were they all being controlled by the man on the dock? Just some of them? Based on the fly guy’s reaction when Casey had pointed him out, the flies were probably part of some kind of perception ability. If it worked even a little like [Spatial Cognition] perception, he had to assume that they were being tracked by the thugs.

Ryan knew roughly where they were, but he didn’t know the most direct path to the gate, only that the major road they needed to reach was ahead through a series of tight alleys between the warehouse walls. They turned another corner and sprinted down the track.

It occurred to him, though he wasn’t proud of the thought, that he could use [Warp Step] to out-pace any pursuers that may pop up. Grimacing, he banished the thought from his mind. Using his ability would mean abandoning Casey, and just the thought caused his stomach to churn. For better or worse, he would stick with her.

He dialed up [Spatial Cognition] in his mind, cursing himself for not thinking of using at full power earlier. He extended the range out as far as he could; about half the distance to the next intersection. They turned into the T-shaped intersection, picking the direction closest to the one they needed to go. Just before arriving at the next intersection, he sensed a group of people waiting out of sight.

Ryan grabbed Casey’s arm and skidded to a halt, his cloak billowing around him. He turned back the way they came and headed past the original alley. A group of people were already blocking the way, sauntering toward them. Ryan checked the street they had come to this intersection on with the same result.

He cursed. What a stupid decision, coming down here. He had assumed that the gang would need to chase them, not even considering that they had more people that could use abilities. The fly guy likely had an ability to alert his friends. There was no need to chase anybody. They surrounded him as soon as he entered the district.

He stopped Casey at the intersection. The thugs boxed them in and there was nowhere to go. He wasn’t able to climb the high brick walls of the warehouses, and he doubted Casey could either.

“You got a Body Key the other night, when you fought the badgers in the village. Did you get an offensive ability? It looks like we’re going to fight our way out of this.” Ryan kept his eyes on the approaching men, but felt her nod her head through [Spatial Cognition].

“I did, but I can only use it a few times before I’m tapped out. It’s also, like, difficult to use. I don’t know... I don’t know if I can kill people.” Her voice dropped on the last part, but Ryan could still hear it.

“Listen, I’ve never killed anyone either, but right now we’re backed into a corner. We can’t mess around. If they’re going to attack, we can’t hesitate. You cover the alley behind us and I’ll take the other one and this one,” he said, tilting his head toward the final alley. “We’re going to pick a direction and rush them.”

Ryan turned back to the original group approaching. He didn’t recognize any of them and there was no sign of the fly guy, but their demeanor left little room for confusion. There were only three of them, but the guy in the lead had some swagger that had a little more substance, leading Ryan to believe there was a little more bite there.

He checked down the side alley and saw that gangsters had stopped half way down. His hunch was most likely correct then; the leader of this group was Mr. Swagger. He was dressed just like the others, in workman’s clothes, but they seemed too fresh, too clean to have been worked in. Turning to face him, Ryan tightened his grip on his spear.

Mr. Swagger and his two friends stopped abruptly, one friend leaning in and saying something in his ear that Ryan couldn’t make out, but he caught the word ‘Guild’.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t recognize him, he’s probably new, and his aura is weak. Regardless, it’s your fault the girl got away, so now we get to clean up your mess.” Mr. Swagger wasn’t shy, not bothering to keep his voice low.

He glanced back at Casey to see her in a ready stance, monitoring a half dozen thugs ambling toward her down the street she covered. She seemed more confident than she had before. Based on what he saw when she was fighting the badgers, she was more than capable of handling herself, so he pushed her out of his mind and focused back on the apparent leader.

“Is there any way we can settle this without a fight?” Ryan called out.

“Nope. You’re dead. Get them.” The last was yelled out, and the two friends behind him hesitated, but started walking forward.

Ryan used that hesitation to back up toward Casey. From behind him he heard a rustling, crunching sound. He glanced back and his eyes widened in shock. Sprouting from Casey’s arm was a writhing whip as thick as his thigh, made of twisting vines and branches and covered in five inch spines.

She slung the writhing mass into the nearby wall. It fell off her arm like a discarded tree branch and expanded until it blocked off a good portion of the alley, the thorns tearing up the pavement and brick alike. She turned her attention back to the other alley, panting.

They needed to break through the thugs decisively, and Mr. Swagger and his friends seemed the most promising, since there were only three of them. Ryan turned back toward Mr. Swagger, whose two friends were hurrying toward him, approaching the maximum range of [Warp Step]. There wasn’t time to think too much about what he needed to do, he just needed to be decisive.

He sprinted toward the approaching men, who advanced side by side, and positioned his spear horizontally across his body. Activating [Warp Step], he stepped through the twisting space and thrust out the haft of his spear with both hands, with all of his strength and body weight behind it.

The two men tried to use abilities, but their effects only started to manifest before the haft of Ryan’s spear plowed into their necks, crunching its way through muscle and cartilage and throwing both thugs to their back. Shock and vibrations reverberated through the spear into Ryan’s arms, and he stumbled after his abrupt stop.

Before he could catch his breath, he sensed something moving fast through [Spatial Cognition]. He jerked himself to the side just as a white fiery mass the size of a golf ball zipped past his face, searing his skin. It struck the wall across from Ryan, carving a molten path through brick and mortar before fizzling out.

Ryan sensed another and backed pedaled toward Casey. The little balls of plasma were fast, but with [Spatial Cognition] he knew what their trajectory was and had little trouble avoiding them. He danced to the side, accurately predicting a few more little balls of plasma, trying to keep them from shooting too far down the alley toward Casey.

Mr. Swagger stepped over his friends, putting them behind him as he continued throwing plasma balls at Ryan. His expression darkened and Ryan could see a bit of displeasure leaking into his features at his inability to finish the fight.

Ryan sensed through his Core that he wouldn’t be able to use [Spatial Cognition] for another dozen seconds. He attempted to use it anyway, but he only received backlash that felt like a hand squeezed his Core.

Shaking it off, he set his feet, prepared to rush at Mr. Swagger, confident that he could dodge the miniature fireballs. The thugs were still writhing on the ground behind Mr. Swagger, clutching at their throats. This was his chance to break through so he and Casey could make their escape.

Mr. Swagger stopped and a look of concentration fell over him. He clenched his fist down by his side and a strained look overtook his features. He threw his hand out, dragging his hand like he was straining to cast a giant net, and a wall of fire exploded in front of him, rushing down the alleyway toward Ryan.

Panicked, Ryan backpedaled. He couldn’t use [Warp Step] and he had no way to defend himself, or Casey behind him, from the approaching inferno. There was nothing he could do and nowhere he could go to escape, so he braced himself against the sound of rushing flames and blinding light, hoping he could disrupt it enough to give Casey a chance.

Something shot from above into the range of [Spatial Cognition] and a brown and gold feathered eagle swooped into view, obstructing Ryan’s vision. Ryan immediately recognized the bird of prey from earlier in the day, when it watched him search for the village refugees along the wall.

The eagle contorted, distorted, and grew into a giant bear with fur so black the light was sucked into its inky depths. The bear thumped to the ground on all fours, its bulk knocking Ryan back as it positioned itself in front of the approaching flames. Ryan tumbled away a few meters before righting himself. The flame wall filled his vision, interrupted only by the void colored fur of the bear.

The bear took a deep breath and let out a roar that Ryan felt deep in his bones but could barely hear. A hazy distortion shot out of the bear’s mouth, accompanying the roar. It was sluggish and warped the light and shadows in strange ways, throwing oddly colored reflections on to the walls and ground.

Light from the flames swirled in strange patterns, and when the wall of flame met the hazy distortion, it shattered like glass. Shards of solidified flame zipped around only to fizzle away like cheap fireworks. The distorted field of liquid haze spread down the alley, filling the space like water filling an empty bucket.

Ryan scrambled to his feet and turned back to check on Casey and was taken aback. Not a little bit of admiration filled him as Casey used her whip of death thorns to thrash and pummel the thugs and environment alike. At her feet lied half the thugs, riddled with thorns and leaking blood from grisly tears along their chests and faces.

She must have reached her limit with the giant thorn whip, as it dropped from her arm and shriveled away. She took out her daggers and took up a ready stance. Ryan looked at the remaining thugs, who were in awful shape, and back at the bear and Mr. Swagger, who appeared to be in a standoff, and went to go help Casey.

He rushed toward her and saw that the blocked alley was clear of the whip and the thugs were nowhere to be seen. They were probably trying to make their way around and come from a different direction.

Casey’s arm flashed out and Ryan saw one of the remaining thugs stumble back, a wicked gash in his neck, and fall to the ground. He scrambled back, holding his hand to the wound to stop the blood. That left two facing Casey, one on either side directly in front of her.

Not wasting any more time, Ryan used [Warp Step] and appeared right behind the man on the right. The men stiffened, aware that he had disappeared, but before they could do anything Ryan pivoted and clubbed the closest over the head with the butt end of his spear and pushed him off to the side. He readjusted the spear in his grip and took a step in closer to the remaining thug.

The kidnapper took his attention off Casey to look for Ryan. Casey immediately took advantage and leapt forward, jamming a dagger into his neck. Blood sprayed out all over her face and hands as she pushed him away, pulling out the dagger.

Following up, Ryan thrust his spear into the man’s side, just above the kidney, and used his spear as a lever to throw him to the ground. The thug thrashed on the ground, perhaps unwilling to accept his fate, as the blood drained out of his grievous wounds.

Not seeing any other immediate threats, Ryan turned back to the bear and Mr. Swagger to see if there was any way to help. Mr. Swagger was grim faced as he made a last attempt at penetrating the hazy distortion the bear produced with its roar. The man stepped back and held his hands out from his sides. They started glowing a faint yellow but immediately ramped up into miniature suns, like welding torches attached to his arms.

The bear didn’t give Mr. Swagger any more time to prepare and lumbered forward into the field of distortion that permeated the alley. Mid-step, the bear contorted and shifted again, this time into a sleek panther with pale orange fur dappled with black and white spots. It sped down the alley snarling, sparks and trails of miniature lighting trailing from its fangs and claws.

The dappled panther leapt from ground to wall and back, weaving its way toward Mr. Swagger, who waited with his plasma hands. The panther leapt into the fight, lighting trailed its claws and left lingering glowing jagged lines hanging in the air behind them.

Mr. Swagger and the panther dodged around, both unwilling to let their opponents’ weapons make contact. The panther’s agile movements were familiar, but Ryan couldn’t pin down how. He didn’t know how or why the panther-bear-eagle showed up, but he couldn’t afford to let the opportunity go.

One thing was for sure, though; if he had charged at Mr. Swaggers, he would have cut down Ryan without trouble. The man’s hands were so hot that just touching the brick wall was enough to blacken and gouge it. Ryan’s spear wouldn’t have been able to stop them. Furthermore, it made clear that he needed an offensive ability if he wanted to handle opponents at this level. He needed both offensive and defensive abilities. Mr. Swagger entirely outmatched him.

An explosion rang out from where the panther and Mr. Swagger continued to duke it out. A wave of intense heat followed a second later. Rubble and dust clouded the air, only the occasional flash of purple-blue lightning or bright white flame indicating where the combatants fought.

He turned back to Casey to see she had a nasty gash on her hand, but it didn’t look life threatening. He was relieved to see that she only had a few minor injuries dotting her arms and shoulder. Blood covered her face, making it difficult to see if she had any injuries there, but she didn’t seem impaired so he ignored it.

There was no sign of the other group that Casey had blocked off with her spiky whip barricade. The thug who hadn’t yet succumbed to his injuries was doing his best to stumble away down the alley. He wasn’t long for this world without help, but based on his experience, healing runes and potions weren’t uncommon. He thought about finishing him, but he already felt guilt creeping into the edges of his mind from his backstabbing attacks.

Satisfied that Casey was fine and the immediate threat to them gone, Ryan turned back to the cloud of dust obscuring the alleyway where the sounds of the fight had died away. Faint shuffling filtered through the dust as an obscured compact figure walked toward them. It wasn’t Mr. Swagger, the figure was too small. He walked differently too, almost as if he was an animal stalking the jungle shadows. A memory clicked in Ryan’s head, and he smiled, recognition and relief flooding through him.

Joy stepped out of the cloud of dust, camouflage cloak swirling around him, mischievous green and brown eyes shining out from behind his plain white mask.