One year earlier…

Alana lit Jacques Oliphant-Escoffier's cigarette as he put it in his mouth. Even with his grave expression, he nodded gratefully as he took a step towards the man tied up on the floor.

The place they were standing in would one day be a planetary monument. Once, on this planet called Nemos, the Gene Tyrant called Richenza had built a palace tall enough that it had reached the orange skies. That palace had fallen during the Thousand Revolutions, of course, but the new Governor was nothing if not a history buff -- and he was eager to match the architectural accomplishments of the Tyrants.

These were but the empty foundations, but they'd serve for this purpose.

The disco ball above the group spun with flowing colours, and Jacques' two zombies moved, pulling the tied-up man up into a standing position. He thrashed wildly, but the grip of the dead man was utterly unbreakable. Jacques watched the display, his cold expression unimpressed. The affable affect he adopted in public and with his family had utterly vanished.

"Boss," the bearded man pleaded, looking at his employer. "Please. I swear. I swear I didn't do nothing."

Jacques reached a hand into the inside pocket of his white long coat, his expression unamused. "Really?" he snapped, voice droll. "You weren't passing information on to my sister?"

"I wasn't! Whoever told you that is lying!"

Jacques raised an eyebrow. "I made a deal with my sister Valentina. In exchange for resources she so desperately needed, she gave me the names of all the moles she had in my organisation. Your name was among them. Could you be calling my darling little sister a liar, Groone?"

His eyes widening, Groone quickly shook his head. "No, no no no, I didn't mean it like that, I didn't mean --"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Jacques whipped his pistol out of his coat and shot him through the head, burning bits of brain and skull flying into the pit behind him. A second later, a flash of the disco ball triggered the two zombies to throw Groone's body in as well.

"No mercy for traitors," Jacques said quietly, returning his gun to its holster. He took a drag of his cigarette as he stepped away from the scene, nodding to the foreman who was standing meekly in the corner. "You can get started now."

Construction would officially resume thirty hours later, the sea of cement firmly removing any evidence that the man called Groone had ever been here. In a way, Alana supposed he should be grateful: thanks to his attentive boss, he got to be a part of history.

Now...

Alana could feel it all.

Far above her was her bullseye. The Aether it was imbued with allowed her to keep constant track of its location -- and, by extension, the location of Scout Oliphant-Dawkins. Whenever she tried to move closer to it, however, the bullseye would suddenly get further away. Something was actively preventing her approach.

Below her, maybe a floor or two down, she could feel the bullet she'd shot. Just like her, it was stuck in some kind of loop -- heading straight up, then suddenly relocating back to its original position, over and over again.

Whatever this place was, it seemed to operate on its own set of rules. Alana had come to in this first room -- a swimming pool with lounge chairs off to the sides -- and from there she'd tried to ascend to Oliphant-Dawkins' position, ending up in some kind of restaurant-quality kitchen.

That was the only progress she was allowed to make, though. If she ascended from the kitchen, she just ended up back here -- in the swimming pool. As a test, she'd tried leaving her hat on one of the sunbeds, finding it again after climbing up the stairs and entering the same room once more.

She put the hat back on, bells jingling. If nothing else, that confirmed she was cycling between the same two rooms, not climbing through a series of identical chambers. That, along with the regular distances the bullseye moved away from her, suggested that the trick behind this was that the rooms themselves were moving as she climbed, replacing whatever destination she was trying to reach.

This whole building was basically a deck of cards, then. Well, Alana was perfectly comfortable gambling. She never seemed to lose, after all.

The key to winning games like this were to make best use of the resources you had, and to exploit the weaknesses your opponent's resources possessed. So what cards could she play here?

For one, there was the bullet, constantly cycling between the two floors below her. Right now, that made it pretty much useless, but if it was taking up any of Scout's attention, that was worthwhile.

Then, the bullseye. She could keep track of Scout's location no matter where he went. Even if her Aether pings were useless here, she wouldn't be blind.

She had two more bullseyes she could send out. A plan occurred. If she sent one of her bullseyes up to the next floor instead of going herself, would Scout still swap the two floors' positions? He'd have to in order to avoid the projectile, wouldn't he?

And if he did, Alana could use that opportunity to move up to the next floor unimpeded. It was unlikely he'd fall for it twice in a row, so she couldn't get all the way up to him, but it was still a way to break out of this loop at least.

With a flare of green Aether, she dispatched the bullseye -- the object twirling in the air like a flying saucer as it zoomed off towards the stairs. Unlike her bullets, which homed in on their corresponding targets, Alana could remote-control the bullseyes, allowing her to land attacks from far away.

The bullseye disappeared from sight as it headed up, but Alana could still feel the Aether she'd invested in it. She could sense it like a far-away limb, rising above her…

No. Now it was below her, and Scout was just a tad closer.

Alana didn't waste a second. She immediately broke into a sprint, arms pumping as she made her own way to the stairs. She jumped up three steps at a time, sparks of Aether dancing off her boots each time they struck the wooden stairs.

Hurry, hurry, she told herself, teeth gritted and bared to their utmost.

Her effort paid off, and she successfully made it to the next floor. It was some kind of living room, with a roaring fireplace surrounded by cosy armchairs.

She didn't stop to appreciate the scenery; she couldn't afford to lose this momentum. Scout was maybe three floors away, but if she gave him time to regain himself he could easily trap her in another loop. She leapt across the room, firing her revolvers behind herself for additional acceleration, landed on the stairs, and --

-- and was faced with the creature descending from above. Some kind of massive spherical jellyfish, with a body as dark as night surrounded by grasping, flexile tendrils. Sparks of pale blue Aether ran along its body as it sensed her presence.

The attack was immediate. A tendril struck Alana with the force of a car, slamming into her midsection and sending her flying across the room, smashing into a wall that sparked with angry pink Aether. She gasped for air, devastating pain already ringing out of her body as she fell forward into the ground.

If she wasn't infusing her body, Alana had no doubt that attack would have utterly pulverised her organs. Steeling herself for a painful fight, she picked herself up off the floor, hands tight around the grips of her revolvers.

"Come on, you fucker," she hissed at the approaching jellyfish. "Come and get me."

100,000 each.

She just had to remember that. She could endure as much pain, as much humiliation, as it took -- so long as she was able to grab that reward in the end. Money ran the world, and if you had enough of it that made you a higher breed of human.

Her opponent's attack had been devastatingly quick, but in terms of locomotion it was pretty slow. It floated leisurely over towards Alana, slower than a walking human, tendrils reared back ready to resume pummeling.

It's simple behaviour -- move straight towards her and attack once she was in range -- suggested this thing was some kind of automatic construct. Most likely, it's master had just designated Alana as the target and sent it on its way. It wasn't unlike her Bullseye Bullet, then -- mindlessly following after the target until it struck true.

Still, just because it was slow didn't make it any less deadly.

The thing was getting too close. Alana fired her guns back again, launching herself across the room at an angle and narrowly avoiding a swiped tendril that she was certain would have broken her back. A second pair of shots forward cancelled her momentum, allowing her to land atop the mantle of the fireplace like a cat, staring down her opponent.

It had taken about ten seconds for the jellyfish to cross the room and attack her again. Alana could fire ten bullets in six seconds, and reload in about three. Assuming she kept up a constant attack, that gave her about one second to dodge the next blow with her remaining two bullets.

Of course, that was also assuming that attacking the jellyfish would accomplish anything. Alana highly doubted the thing was invincible, but that didn't mean whatever weakness it had wasn’t so obscure that she'd never figure it out. Besides, this whole thing could be a distraction while Scout Oliphant-Dawkins prepared some other gambit.

She reached her mind out, checking her bullseye. No, the distance between her and her Aether construct hadn't changed -- and thus, the distance between herself and Scout hadn't changed.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Ten thunderous shots thudded into the body of the incoming jellyfish, each causing its body to spasm and shudder, the bullets sinking into its amorphous form. No matter how much pain it seemed to display, though, the creature never stopped moving.

Alana clicked her tongue as the jellyfish reached her position at the fireplace.

Jerking one of her revolvers behind her again, she fired, giving herself the momentum to fly over the jellyfish just as it attacked. Then, as she passed over it, she fired her last remaining bullet right into the creature's back, pushing it firmly into the flames.

Those were much more effective. Fire ran up the jellyfish's tendrils like they were made of string, and before long the entire thing was a sculpted inferno. Even still, it turned, trying to pursue her as she landed back on the carpet.

She wouldn't give it the opportunity -- this was all but over.

Alana reloaded, recorded bullets manifesting back into their chambers without her having to so much as lift a finger. The instant she felt their reassuring weight return, she lifted her guns and fired another volley of shots directly into the enemy's body, driving them further and further into the fireplace. Already, some parts of it were crumbling into ash.

Another check. Scout still hadn't moved. This had been his last gambit.

With a smirk, Alana turned away from the pile of soot -- just in time to avoid the bolt of pale blue Aether that had been aimed right for her face. It thudded harmlessly into the wall behind her.

Standing across from her, gaping in panic at the missed shot from the bottom of the stairs, was the other Oliphant brat -- Chloe Oliphant-Escoffier. There was something stuck to her back too, another smaller jellyfish, its tendrils stretching out and pointing in Alana's direction. That must have been what fired the shot.

If Alana wasn't mistaken, Chloe had used that attack on her associate Insider before. After it had hit him, he'd been reduced to rolling on the ground like an invalid for several seconds. Perhaps it was something that interfered with the nervous system, then, tricking the body into triggering excruciating pain?

Alana felt her eye twitch. This little shit had tried to get one over on her?

The two of them glared intensely at each other, both knowing that the slightest movement would cause violence to break out all at once. Chloe shifted her footing on the stairs. Alana adjusted her stance on the carpet.

No doubt Chloe would try to run back upstairs, and then Scout would move that floor out of Alana's reach. This combination of powers really was infuriating.

"I get it," Alana called out, more to distract than anything else. "Your cousin's been switching his own position at the same time he switches mine -- that way, the distance between us doesn't change, and I couldn't tell he was setting you up for a sneak attack. Didn't really work out, did it?"

Chloe didn't reply. She just continued glaring -- and at her sides, Alana could see her fists quietly trembling. Bravado only went so far, didn't it?

"Well," Alana sighed, waving one hand. "It's over, anyway, darlin'. Tell you what -- stay still and I'll end it in one shot. Just take your Aether down, okay sweetie?"

Chloe's eyes narrowed, but her Aether didn't waver. "Fuck you," she breathed.

"Aw," Alana pursed her lips. "Bless your heart."

Chloe attacked first, one of those tendrils sending another bolt of blue pain firing at Alana. It was laughable, honestly -- slow enough that Alana could duck underneath it with ease, firing off a bullet to send herself flying in Chloe's direction.

The Oliphant brat's eyes widened in fear as Alana flew towards her position. The girl turned on her heel to flee back up the stairs -- and as she did, she fired off a volley of pain bolts just as Alana shot her last bullet.

Two projectiles hit at once. The bullet hit Chloe right in the leg, blowing out her kneecap and sending her falling forward onto the stairs with a scream of pain. At the same time, one of the pain bolts struck Alana in her leg.

Pain spread out through the limb like she was being stabbed in every inch of flesh available. She too collapsed to the floor, whimpers of agony escaping through her gritted teeth, but pain would be no obstacle to her movement. With a snarl, she reached out and seized Chloe's good leg as the younger girl tried to crawl up the remaining stairs.

"Dead," growled Alana as the two of them were pulled up, her eyes wide and bloodshot from the pain. "You're fucking dead. You little shit. You fuck. I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you!"

The tendrils of Chloe's backpack jellyfish were latching onto the floor above, slowly pulling its master up -- and with her, Alana was being brought up too, her grip on Chloe's leg unbreaking.

Even through the haze of agony, Alana's mind was still capable of reasoning -- and through that, she could tell that she had won this battle. Scout wouldn't want to risk moving the floors if it meant leaving his cousin with her. So long as she didn't let go of this brat, she could ascend the rest of the floors without issue. With the injuries she'd sustained, Alana would have no trouble taking Chloe as a hostage.

The next floor came into view. Scout had clearly been rearranging the floors while she and Chloe had been fighting -- this was the kitchen again, white and sterile, the only traces of colour being the red blood Chloe trailed behind her as she pulled herself off the stairs. A feral grin spread across Alana's face as victory drew closer, half her body already off the stairs. As soon as this pain faded, she'd knock Chloe out and continue climbing.

Chloe stopped crawling.

Alana's grin faltered, just slightly. Had the kid already passed out from blood loss? It wouldn't be surprising, but it still wasn't ideal. If the brat died while Alana was climbing, she very well couldn't be used as a hostage, could she?

The pain fading from her leg, Alana went to pick herself up -- but never found the opportunity.

The jellyfish on Chloe’s back lunged at her with blinding speed, rushing past her vision in a split-second and sending her falling back to the ground as it attached to her back instead. Then, the four tendrils lashed out -- two binding her arms and legs together, and the other two latching onto the stairs and holding tight, keeping her in place. She went to dispatch a bullseye, to have it spin and slice through the tentacles, but bolts of pain channelled directly into her body put an end to that.

This time, she couldn't help but scream.

Pain was coursing through her body, but her mind was still focused enough for the horror of her situation to dawn upon her. Where she was right now -- half on one floor, half on another -- was the worst possible place for her to be. If Scout moved the floors now, then…

This had been their plan all along.

Chloe's hair fell over her face as she looked over her shoulder, back towards the screaming Alana. The only thing visible through those dark locks were her eyes, widened to their limit, staring murderously into Alana's soul. Those eyes were nothing if not familiar.

"No mercy for traitors," Chloe Oliphant-Escoffier said, her voice ice.

There was the sound of tearing meat.

Scout gasped for air as they reappeared in the ruins of the Oliphant-Escoffier complex, the skyscraper now little more than a pile of rubble and glass. The destruction caused by releasing Perfect Palace: Palisade Princedom truly was atrocious, but Scout was grateful for the reduced pressure all the same. Sidekick dropped off his neck, thoroughly worn out, and Scout returned the Aether battery to his backpack with shaking hands.

"Chlo?" Scout called out to his cousin, but there was no need.

She was visible lying down not far away, just past what was left of Alana Pheasant. Scout gingerly moved around the severed torso as he made his way towards her.

Chloe's third and final jellyfish, Hello to the New World!, was hovering over her. It was small, around the size of a human hand, the blue light within it making it seem like some kind of shining star. A thin line ran out from its single tendril as it printed new flesh and bone to replace the damaged material from Chloe's leg.

"That sucked," Chloe winced as the jellyfish healed her. "What do we do now?"

Scout collapsed next to her. He hadn't realised how tired he was, but sweat was indeed pouring down his forehead, and every breath felt like fire scorching his lungs. It really had been a long, long night.

"We lay low," he panted, staring at the city lights above. "Find some place to hide, join back up with the rest of the family as soon as we can. It's…"

The rubble shifted. Chloe tried to stand up, but her leg still wasn't up to the task, and she quickly collapsed again. Scout couldn't even muster that much effort.

One of the remaining bodyguards -- the cyborg woman with the cannon in her chest -- was climbing out of the rubble. The explosion had clearly done a number on her: part of the skin on her face had burnt away, revealing the metal skull implant beneath, and one of her arms was entirely missing -- wires sparking from the stump on her shoulder.

Even so, she was glaring at them with murderous intent -- and the cannon on her chest was whirring furiously.

"200,000…" she growled, blood dribbling down her chin. "200,000… easy money. It's easy money!"

Neither of them could so much as move. The fight against Alana Pheasant had taken everything they'd had.

The whirring reached an apex, and --

Plunk.

A sticky projectile, launched from somewhere out of sight, landed on the barrel of the cannon, firmly attaching itself. It clicked.

The explosion that ensued wasn't as devastating as the cannon shot would have been, but it was enough. The cyborg woman was consumed by a pillar of fire, her final scream drowned out by the billowing inferno. By the time she finally dropped, there was little left of her but ashen bone and scorched metal.

The shooter stepped into view from atop the crater, the grenade pistol he'd used returned to its holster. Scout peered forward, trying to identify the person through the smoke. He was fairly certain he didn't recognize that silhouette.

It was a young man with long orange hair flowing in the wind, his face lined generously with freckles. As he stepped out of the smoke and towards the two of them, he offered a friendly smile, brushing the soot off his blue blazer as he extended a helping hand.

"Hey," he said. "You guys looked like you needed some help."