“Don’t you know,” the kid sang softly, “you never split the party. Clerics in the back, keep those fighters hale and hearty. The wizard in the middle, where he can shed some light. And you never let that damn thief out of sight…”

CJ trailed off, looking around nervously. There was no one within sight so Raj didn’t scold him for singing—he’d already scouted ahead using his Prowler Stance while CJ had prepared a few last-minute potions, so he knew it was safe. Or at least, as safe as anywhere in Magincia could be.

So instead, Raj snorted in dry amusement. “That’s quite the tune. Make it up yourself?”

CJ glanced at him, before shaking his head sheepishly.

“Nah, it's just a, uh, D&D song I heard online. Why did everyone agree to this plan again?”

“You were the one who suggested it, CJ. Made a pretty convincing argument too. No use regretting that now.”

“Yes, but why did you all listen to…oh never mind. Curse my damn, natural charisma.”

The scrawny lad sighed, continuing to glance around anxiously. Lifting his large hand, Raj gently patted the boy on his back. He was trying to be reassuring but unfortunately, he noticed the boy flinch unexpectedly. While it was possible CJ had expected a hard slap, or to be flung about by Raj ‘accidentally’ and had preemptively compensated for it, Raj had a feeling it was something else that had caused that reaction.

After all, this was the first time the two of them had been alone since the death of the pleated-dressed man back in the worm's cave. The tension between them was alarmingly high, which was only to be expected.

Still, Raj thought to himself. If he isn’t going to bring it up, neither will I. It was important that CJ took that first step.

“If you recall, the building isn’t far now,” Raj said, lowering his hand and creating space between them. Then, he made his way down a familiar ramp in the Admin district, a row of hedges to the side as CJ followed. Raj glanced to the side briefly, before dipping down into the tunnel, towards a spot of restored pavement. A spot where a man had been murdered in a duel by the Golden Girl. Silently, he turned away, continuing down.

“You know,” CJ said solemnly, drawing Raj’s attention. “It’s kind of weird. Where is everyone? I thought more people would be out looking for, ah, houses and stuff.”

Raj paused at the bottom of the ramp. The kid did too. “There's no real housing in this District,” Raj told him. “All the buildings are either in use or gutted. Besides, past the Arena, there's not much for people to fight over, and that’s nestled on the edge of Admin and Training. Everyone smart is elsewhere.”

“Yeah, but it feels so…off,” CJ said despondently. Raj grunted in reply with a shrug.

Normally, Raj would’ve been fine with empty streets, as it served their goal. No people meant no competition, but now that they were here—he could agree there was something unsettling about it. Like the atmosphere of the Academy had changed, from ghost town to something more…familiar. Like an abandoned section of a war-torn city.

Raj didn’t comment further, instead choosing to continue walking, CJ stepping quickly to follow. Distantly in his mind, memories came unbidden. Hollowed remains of homes, the occasional sight of a face. Sometimes bloody, oftentimes dirty. A mix of emotions, like hope, but also hatred. Desperation tainted with accusation.

He hated these memories. Hated this familiarity in the Academy, even if the sound of distant gunfire had been replaced with Spells and his M16 with an ax.

Some things were just too similar.

“So…why did you want to go to the Undercroft so badly, anyway?” CJ finally asked. “You’ve been trying to find this place since the beginning, haven’t you?”

Not the question I was expecting, but I suppose it's fair, Raj thought. Glancing sideways at the lad, Raj debated what to tell him, before his eyes returned to screening the area. Old instincts at work. In truth, this was Raj’s tenth attempt to get in, and he had to work hard to keep his frustration from showing. The lad might misinterpret that.

“I’ve looked into it, yes,” Raj said carefully. “I think there are answers to be found there, something more than just one of the Seed Gifts. Something more important than whatever game is currently ongoing.”

“Game?” CJ snorted. “People are being enslaved and killed, Raj, that’s hardly a game.”

“Yes, over quests,” Raj insisted quietly. “Put into place by long-dead aliens designed to mold us into being soldiers for their city. They may use the term Magi, but that’s what we are to them: soldiers trained and equipped to spread ‘enlightenment’ on their behalf. What's going on now is little more than a simulation of their political system, one designed to foster competition in the ranks to drive us further. The fact that it's lethal is all the more damning of who they were as a society.”

Games designed to kill to maximize their effectiveness in teaching, he thought bitterly. What a cruel, unthinkable waste of life.

“You mean…” CJ said, the observation visibly striking a chord. “This is just the kind of crap they want us to be prepared for? Our new daily lives? It won’t…end?”

Raj shrugged. “This was a city run by an Oligarchy of Archmagi, CJ, don’t forget that. This Faction system is a reflection of their day-to-day fight for influence and control. And yes, it’s likely our new way of life.”

Until the next deadly quest comes out, he silently added. And it all gets worse.

He’d seen plenty of hints of it in the murals and stories sculpted in art. Everywhere in the Academy, history without context, of conflicts and power struggles. Of men losing and being ground down as others strode over them, gloating in their victory while they were portrayed as heroes.

But that was what this place was. A monument to tyrants.

CJ paled, pausing suddenly. “You call it a game, but Raj…what if someone like Rebecca wins and enslaves us all? We don’t have any Archmagi to control her, or the others if they take over. There…isn’t anything to save us if they win.”

“And you wondered why we all agreed to your plan,” Raj said, trying to inject some semblance of warmth into his tone. “All these games, and no safeguards in case they go wrong.”

CJ paused for a long while. “Is a game with real stakes still a game then?” He finally asked.

“Ask a gambler who lost their life savings at the craps table,” Raj replied, continuing onward towards their destination.

The boy fell into contemplative silence as he followed.

Damn it, Raj thought, chewing a lip. I shouldn’t be so harsh on the kid. Am I really so petty? As Raj berated himself, the two of them reached their destination, coming to a stop outside a derelict building.

Raj turned to see the shaken lad and frowned slightly. CJ was deep in thought, a haunted look on his face. There was still a lot unsaid between the two of them, and absently Raj realized he’d avoided the lad’s earlier question. Doesn’t matter, he thought. The kid’ll find out soon enough.

“CJ, I know how you feel,” he said softly, the boy suddenly looking up sharply. “Them winning is one of the outcomes that scares me most about our situation. That’s why everyone agreed to your plan, even if it seems terrible. We might die out here trying for something far beyond our reach, but better that than what waits for us if we hide in our Hall doing nothing.”

CJ’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Eventually, he nodded.

Yes, a lot unspoken, Raj thought. But I guess that’s how it goes. Raj stepped forward, propping open the window he’d left prepared from his previous trip. Instantly, the air filled with the sounds of the machines hidden inside.

“The worst part is—I don’t think it’ll end here, either,” Raj told him, not just to warn him but to distract him. Get his mind on the future, not the past. “I think Magincia is gearing us up for more. If I was a betting man, I’d say there's a trial at the end of the week waiting for us. That's when the real hell will begin.”

CJ grimaced miserably. “Damn it, Raj, I have enough to worry about as it is. Do you have to add on to it?”

Raj laughed lightly, gesturing for CJ to climb through the window. The kid scrambled through, and Raj clambered in after him, then shut the window, re-latching it behind him. Just in case.

“I could be wrong,” Raj said, raising his voice over the noise. CJ called on a Spell to light the interior, bringing the pipes and industrial machines into better focus. “I’d like to be wrong,” Raj continued. “Honestly. If this race for power was the worst we faced, I’d dance with joy.”

CJ smirked. “No offense, Raj, but I’m not sure what it would look like to see you dance. At least there's no children around to scare.”

Raj barked a laugh. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent dancer. Anything from the robot to belly dances.”

“You…what?” CJ paused, turning to him in concern. “You’re joking, right?”

“What do you think?” Raj said, snuffling his mustache at the boy. The scrawny lad laughed, shaking his head as he started to look around.

Raj considered what the look on CJ’s face would be if he broke out in the dance he’d done for the Sangeet—the ‘Musical Night’ that had been part of his wedding. Most Indian families liked to make a competition of it, trying to see who could give the best performance. His wedding had been no different, despite Raj’s side of the family having been in America for so many generations that the others had thought they’d lost their ‘connection.’ His in-laws had had some annoyingly traditional views.

His warm smile at the memories began to fade. He used to love to dance. Anywhere, anytime. Arm and arm with Mayra, his wife, dancing in their small home with their son giggling nearby, clapping to the imaginary beat. But it had been a long time since he’d last danced. Raj didn’t think it likely he ever would again.

That reminds me though, he thought. I do have one thing I can bring up that ought to help the boy’s morale.

“If it helps,” Raj said. “Should we survive this crazy plan of yours, I heard a certain someone was willing to…get to know you better.”

The boy perked up. “Wait, Braylon finally, ah…” He cut off, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his head.

“I know you’ve been trying to send him subtle hints, but Braylon doesn’t do subtle.”

The boy smiled sardonically. “You’re telling me,” he said flatly.

Raj smiled back. It hadn’t been easy, or comfortable for that matter. It wasn’t in Raj’s nature to play matchmaker and it certainly hadn’t been a fun conversation to have. But as much as he cared for his young friend, even from the days when Raj had Sponsored him in their fellowship’s Home Group, he knew Braylon. After he’d lost his parents he’d struggled to connect with others, even after managing to sober up. Oftentimes, their time in the gym together was all the socializing Braylon would get outside the meetings.

Raj shook his head. Ah, Mayra, he thought. You’d have gotten a kick out of it. Me standing there, stammering away. But if he hadn’t said something, God only knew if either of them would have.

“So, ah,” Raj said cautiously. “One thing to keep in mind. Braylon’s never really…explored relationships of your…erhm.”

“Raj, you don’t have to sugar coat it,” CJ said, folding his arms. “I get it, he isn’t the first guy I’ve hit on who wasn’t sure of his sexuality.”

Raj huffed but figured he’d earned that reprimand. I should know by now I don’t need to dance on eggshells around this lad, he reminded himself. He’s a lot tougher than he seems.

“Fine,” Raj said. “Braylon wasn’t sure if he’ll be able to reciprocate your feelings fully. However, he also wasn’t willing to shut you down either.” He’s always been a kind soul. He deserves better than he got.

“But he is open to…trying it out?” CJ asked tentatively, a small gleam in his eye.

There, Raj thought, smiling. That’s what I wanted to see. “He is,” Raj said. “He wasn’t willing to make any promises, and he doesn’t want to risk losing you as a friend. He’s willing to try if you’ll be patient with him.”

“Obviously! But, ah, do you…know what kinds of features he finds attractive?” The boy was clearly thrilled with this development, practically beaming where he stood. It was still awkward having this conversation now, of all times, but once again—this was the first time the two of them had been alone. Outside of Raj sending a written letter this was about as good as it was going to get.

“Well, if I had to guess, he finds femininity attractive,” Raj said, answering the lad’s question. “And you, ah, fit that bill I suppose. What’s the term being used nowadays for it?”

“Femboys?” CJ asked, giggling like a girl. Raj stamped down on an old instinct that made him want to snap at him to correct that behavior. Kids were free to do as they wished as far as Raj was concerned, but that didn’t mean decades of his own life experience were so easily discarded.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s it,” Raj said. “How you want to work that is up to you, just…be careful, would you? Braylon’s never pushed himself to be with anyone before. He was interested, but he’s shy about these things. I meant it when I said you’ll need to have patience with him.”

CJ nodded knowingly, turning to the side as he muttered to himself.

“I’ve tried crossdressing before, so I could give it another go,” CJ said, likely thinking Raj wouldn’t hear him over the machines. He was obviously wrong, but Raj opted to politely ignore the lad’s musing, letting him keep that belief intact. Especially when he started going over various supplies he had that might elongate hair or color his nails. The rapid-fire inventory listing was enough to make Raj’s head spin.

I’m sure it’ll work out though, Raj thought. He knew that, despite his initial knee-jerk prejudice of rejecting a male-male relationship, he approved of CJ as Braylon’s partner for a number of reasons. The kid was sharp, and he’d already pieced together a frightening amount of Braylon’s history, but he’d also shown a great deal of emotional intelligence. Something Braylon could sometimes lack, for all the fortitude he’d developed over the years. Beyond that, CJ was outgoing where Braylon was reserved, energetic where he was calm, and there was a strength in his eyes. Something that spoke of his own hardships, something that made Raj confident that they’d compliment one another. If not in a relationship, then at least as friends.

Thankfully, however, with his job of relaying the awkward message done, Raj could turn back to the mission at hand. As if on cue, the servitor Raj had whimsically named ‘Bonnie’ approached. She’d been present in the building this time, rather than rushing out from a mysterious location to meet them, but something was off. There was an odd look of anxiety on her face. Raj felt himself immediately go on edge, but did his best to hide it.

“Bonnie,” Raj said with feigned genialness. “How’re the kids?”

The robot sighed, glancing back at the large machines. “They aren’t…never mind. Initiate Kaul, you shouldn’t be here. Please, leave. Please.”

Raj felt a spike of anxiety run down his spine, settling somewhere in his gut. Her words weren’t strange, but her tone was.

In the times he’d come here before, she’d gotten mad, testy, sometimes almost…flirty, surprisingly. Hopeful, perhaps, that if she seduced him he’d stop digging around? Regardless, he’d found her attempts laughable, and if anything—he’d started getting the impression that she’d grown rather fond of his visits, no matter what she said. But, in his experience, guards could easily grow bored and would gleefully latch on to anything that broke up the monotony of their task. He’d assumed it was like that for her.

Which was why her being visibly, truly scared frightened him. Something was wrong.

“Is…everything, okay?” CJ asked. He’d picked up on the irregularity of the robot’s tone as well.

“Hey,” Raj said, drawing his attention. “Will you take a look at the pipes? Check the flow like we discussed with your Attainment. I’m going to have a quick look around.”

CJ met Raj’s eyes, before glancing back at the servitor. The metal girl stood there fidgeting, not meeting either of their eyes. Eventually, CJ nodded, turning to head off towards the wall. They’d discussed the strategy Raj had in mind for finding the entrance to the Undercroft, so he already knew what Raj hoped he’d find, but while he searched, Raj decided to find whatever had put the robot on edge.

“So, Bonnie,” he said, approaching one of the large machines to glance around it, looking down the row. This close, it was even louder so he had to raise his voice for her to hear. “Anything you want to tell me?”

He saw the robot glance down and to the side, eyes distant as she stared at the floor. She said nothing, just kept staring at her shadow.

“Alright,” he said quietly to himself. “Guess we’ll do this the harder way.”

Drawing on his Mana, Raj began to cast a Spell. He didn’t know many, but for this case he started with the basic one that he and Catherine had managed to piece together. It was from a Formation scrap they’d found in Raj’s ‘necromancy’ section—the part of the Stacks recommended to him by the Headmaster. It was, of course, the infamous Detect Undead that had failed them so spectacularly before. Thankfully, he hadn’t learned the Necromantic Practice version, which while being easier and quicker to learn would have been impossible to modify on the fly.

Which is what he was doing now.

Like many first-tier Spells, it had three major components. A type of ‘Element,’ or the ‘what’ of what he was targeting. Then, a type of direction, which in this case was a large area emanating from him. Finally, a duration, which was a common component in Axiom Spells. Most people didn’t want a detection Spell that lasted a single second before winking out.

In his current improvised Spell, he forwent the Death Glyph used in Detect Undead, constructed from Runes of Death, Animus, and Negativity. Instead, he channeled the Runes of Creature, Movement, and Wind into a new Glyph. It’d been Catherine who’d designed it after she’d realized that the rustling of air could have probably helped them detect the cloaked Shaggy Breeches. The improvised Glyph, which he simply thought of as a Glyph of Movement Detection, slotted easily into the rest of his Spell. It was surprisingly stable, and he thanked the girl for that.

A few seconds later, and three Mana down, his Spell activated, pulsing through the complex. He could sense CJ nearby, as well as Bonnie. He also felt the machines, but they appeared as large spheres of static in his inner eye, given the Wards shielding them.

He detected nothing else.

Frowning in frustration, he took a lap around the inside of the building, sliding into the shadows as Prowling Stance re-activated. It didn’t cost him anything to engage it, but that was because it was a long-lasting Attainment and he’d already paid the three Mana cost earlier. He still had another thirty or so M-minutes left in its one M-hour length.

Peeking out the windows to the poorly lit street beyond, Raj scanned the outside for any signs of traffic. He found none. He considered stepping outside, as someone could be out of the line of sight from the windows, as his Spell couldn’t reach past barriers, but thought better of it as he realized he had a problem. Every closed door and locked room in the building could be hiding something. Hell, someone could be in the adjoining buildings out of range.

It struck him at that moment, just how woefully unsecured the building was—and he’d thought re-latching the window would help. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he honestly couldn’t tell what was wrong. He felt it though, deep inside like an instinct firing off. But was there really something waiting for them? Or was he just being paranoid?

For all he knew, Bonnie was just uncomfortable that he’d brought another person with him to visit. Or maybe she knew that today, finally, he’d get through and she was scared of what he’d find. Maybe, he was just overreacting. Considering what he expected was in the Undercroft, she might've been right to be worried. Raj wasn’t sure how he’d react if his suspicions were proven correct.

For now, however, he made his way back to CJ.

“I found it, Raj!” The boy said excitedly when Raj arrived, stepping out of his stance. “Just like you thought—the pipes on the walls may be perfectly level with each other, but on one side the energy is flowing to the left, and on the other it's flowing to the right. I’ve found the point where they diverge, and I’ve got just the thing to uncover the entrance.”

“Good job, CJ,” Raj said, giving him another firm, but gentle pat on the back. The boy beamed back, digging into his pouches for the next stage of the plan. Out of the corner of his eye, Raj watched Bonnie.

The robot didn’t look pleased with what they were doing, but her fear—still written all over her body language—continued to indicate something was wrong. If anything, she looked happy that they’d found the entrance, as she kept glancing towards the entrance as though waiting for someone to come in. Cautiously, Raj reached into his pocket, grabbing the speaking stone. Was it too soon to call Millie for a consultation? She had reasons she’d had to put it off until they were in the thick of things, but still…

“Mell-on,” CJ sounded out solemnly, scattering a handful of glittering dust towards the wall. The strange powder distorted the air, falling to the floor with a wide trail that inexplicably narrowed. The sign of compressed space they’d been looking for.

“Okay, now if we just light this, the fox-fire dust should cause the entrance to become visible,” he explained. The material he’d brought was supposedly designed to bypass illusions, even well-crafted ones. “Just one sec and we can—”

“CJ, wait,” Raj said. The robot was getting increasingly nervous, almost manic. Meanwhile, Raj’s instincts had suddenly flared. He hadn’t felt this way since...

“We need to leave.”

“What? But we’re so close, we can’t just—”

“Now,” Raj snapped. “I’m sorry, but—”

Then his Spell, still going in the back of his mind screening the area just like he himself had been drilled to do, went off.

Someone had entered the building.

Isabella finally arrived at the tea house, hiding her annoyance at the need for a grand procession. The section of the Academy she was in, located just outside the Training District, had a small garden area with a pond. The tea house was built on top of, resting on rocky pillars jutting up from the water. It had gold-tinged wood framing the surprisingly modern-looking design, and aside from the wide-sweeping arches built onto the roof—indicative of Shinto influence—it could have fit anywhere in Japan.

Better than the blocky buildings that make up J-town, Isabella thought. She wasn’t a huge fan of that particular shopping district back home, though its architecture probably would have fit in perfectly with the blocky Magincian buildings. Though the important buildings always seemed to stand out in a way. Speaking of standing out.

Surrounding the building, sitting and ‘mingling’ on benches, tables, and other areas lit by street lights and lanterns in the Magincian Night, were the Bound. Rebecca’s lackeys were easy to spot, as all of them had advanced student uniforms and bright, glowing gold eyes that stood out in the gloom. One by one, they turned to stare at her as she approached, watching with unnerving intensity, like dozens of small lights centered on her.

She heard her brother gulp loudly as they strode past. Several of the Bound stood, one even making a motion as though to block them, before being shoved away by the force of her Majestic Presence. As Isabella stepped up a set of oversized, stone steps leading to the elevated foundation of the tea house, she found a familiar face waiting at the entrance.

“Initiate Navarro,” the girl said. “I’m afraid your presence isn’t welcome here.”

The girl looked much the same as she had before, with black hair and mixed Japanese features. She clearly had Caucasian influences, however, and given the last name that Millie had found for her, Lavore, Isabella was pretty sure the girl, Okimi, was Canadian-Japanese.

But that didn’t matter anymore, did it? Okimi was gone. Only a monster wearing her face remained. Isabella stared into the artificially golden eyes of the Spirit bound to Omiki, eyes that had once been dark brown. The Spirit flinched first.

“Under what authority do you bar my passage?” Isabella demanded, folding her arms, enjoying how the girl almost stumbled in place. She felt a ripple spread throughout the Bound students nearby, some seeming to fight themselves trying and failing to shout. Okimi, for her part, stared incredulously at the apparent audacity of Isabella’s lazy invasion.

“We…we…” Okimi struggled before a voice interrupted her.

“We do not claim authority here,” the voice said from inside. “But we do guard this area and its treasure. If you would challenge that, then enter.”

Isabella scoffed, shoving past Okimi, who fell in line next to D’marco, who stared at her warily. Inside, the building was contemporary, forgoing more traditional Japanese floor seating, instead having a dozen tables with stools, most of which were set towards the far end wall of the establishment. There, a massive window spanned wall to wall, showing the pond and gardens outside. Seated at the bar closer to the door, however, was the Golden Girl herself. She looked shocked to see Isabella. Had she not actually expected her to walk inside?

“You look terrible,” Isabella said, her voice chiding and deeming by design. “Enslaving innocents starting to wear on you?”

Rebecca, eyes blood-shot and framed by bags, started with the accusation. She was wearing her golden uniform with burnished, orange accents, which helped hide the stupid gold bars that covered her skin. She stood suddenly, nostrils flaring, moving to block Isabella, who stopped in the middle of the room. Nearby, Bound sat at tables, watching closely, and more came in slowly from outside to fill the building. Isabella didn’t see the ‘Oni’ that ran the place yet.

“You came to challenge me? Me?” The Golden Girl said, voice pitching. “Are you mad? Have you—” Rebecca grimaced, nearly choking on her words as Majestic Presence cut off whatever insult she’d been about to throw out. Her eyes widened when it happened, before she looked back up at Isabella, alarmed. A second later, the panic really seemed to set in.

Yeah, that’s right idiot, Isabella thought. Now you’re starting to realize what’s going on. It was strange though. With Majestic Presence up, Isabella could feel the strength of Rebecca’s soul, and it felt wrong. Almost artificial in a way, like she was nothing more than a suit for something greater, something brighter.

Your fucking power should have been mine, Isabella mused darkly. Most renowned? You’re a fucking door greeter who got in over her fucking head.

She didn’t bother hiding her hostility, letting it show in the way she stood confidently, one hand on her hip as she loomed over Rebecca, who was still sputtering. She could see the Golden Girl beginning to sweat, as she regained composure, looking over towards her lackeys. The dozens of guards who could do nothing but watch as Isabella sprang her trap.

“What’s the matter, Rebecca? Is it past your bedtime?”

The girl recoiled visibly, as though slapped, then scowled. “What? You think you're clever then? You think you’ve got me figured out?”

Isabella shot her a wide, malicious grin. “I’d say so. Otherwise, where’s your armor? Surely, you won't simply allow me to walk in and disregard your authority. Why not call on Solarus?”

The girl glanced away, eyes flaring gold alongside the scar on her chin and neck. Isabella felt a shot of panic at that, but stayed still, not letting it show. Rebecca didn’t…say anything. She seemed to be having a silent conversation with her patron. A conversation that didn’t look to be going well.

I have to give it to Millie here, Isabella thought. If she hadn’t noted how upset Rebecca’s Spirit was at having to bail her out in her only night-time duel, I don’t think I’d have had the balls to do this. And while Isabella didn’t know the full extent of Rebecca’s weakness, she had little doubt that the Golden Girl had been relying on her guards during the night. She hadn’t thought someone could just waltz in, ignoring them. The fool

Apparently, it finally occurred to Rebecca, likely thanks to her Spirit, just how fucked she was. Her eyes returned to normal, though they suddenly fixated on Isabella’s neck.

“Where the fu—eh, w-where did you get that,” she said, stumbling over her words. A flash of gold lit Rebecca’s eyes, and she winced as though in pain. It didn’t stop her from staring at the tattoo, anchoring Isabella’s Majestic Presence.

“You know, the Headmaster’s quite the asshole, yeah?” Isabella said, her voice ringing in the confined space. “When he told me where I could find Attainments, based on charisma and leadership, he went to great lengths to remind me of how close I was to obtaining the Animus Seed. About how I failed.”

“Then—!” Rebecca’s eyes shot open in sudden realization.

“Yup, this Attainment is Animus flavored. Specifically, Solarus flavored. Did you know you could learn Attainments based on Spirits?”

The Golden Girl took a step back, eyes once again glancing around to the people nearby. People that, she now realized, were exceedingly vulnerable to what was happening. Licking her lips nervously, she tried to stand tall. The effect was drastically reduced by her trembling.

“You should know,” she warned. “That yes, while I’m restricted on how much I can rely on Solarus during the night, it isn’t absolute. If I’m threatened enough, he will defend me.” Her eyes suddenly grew distant, and her trembling worsened. “I’ll just have to pay a price later on in recompense,” she said, almost whispering.

She’s…not scared of me, is she? Isabella realized. She’s already thinking about what her Spirit will do to her for being caught out. Unfortunately for her, Isabella couldn’t care less—she knew the Spirit wouldn’t come out until she was in danger, which presented Isabella with an opportunity. That was all she needed.

Smiling, she drew up the Formations in her mind, stored in the earrings she’d bought. She just needed one chance, and she’d have taken it already, but without Majestic Presence up, Rebecca’s lackeys could have swarmed her. And sadly, sneak attacks weren’t conducive to her Attainment. Which meant, she had to goad the girl into a duel—if any of her lackeys interfered then, that would be their heads and Isabella would still get what she wanted.

“I like how you continue to assume you’ll win,” Isabella intoned. “That’s commendable, though utterly mistaken. I challenge you to a duel, Golden Girl. Here, and now.”

Rebecca’s jaw dropped. “You—! Are you not listening? You will die. All you’re doing is making my life even worse. You won’t win, you won’t—”

“Stop blathering on,” Isabella said, her word choice becoming…a bit strange. Another side effect of the Attainment, perhaps. “Accept the challenge, or forfeit your right to champion Solarus.”

The indignation drained out of Rebecca’s face. Opening her mouth, to protest or accept Isabella didn’t know, she paused when her eyes and scar flared gold once more. Slowly, her gaze drifted to Isabella’s ears.

“Sacred Jade,” they said, Rebecca’s voice overlaid with the deep, masculine tones of Solarus. “So that’s your plan. Commendable.”

Isabella arched an eyebrow, especially as the light faded and Rebecca looked on the verge of panicking.

“You b-b-bitch!” She stammered out. Isabella was impressed she’d managed to get it out, considering her Attainment. “Exorcist gear? Is that your plan? To strip Solarus from me and kill me when I’m vulnerable!?”

And then rebind him to myself, yes. Isabella kept that thought to herself, though she did shoot the girl another wide, toothy grin.

“How could you even afford something like that,” she spat out. The girl was fuming. “It must have cost—”

“Three thousand Resource Points,” Isabella cut in. “Half of what I made offering shelter to the refugees you made. Congratulations on that, by the way.”

The girl went silent, hands clasping, eyes darting around. Did she feel the walls closing in? She couldn’t refuse a challenge, not with a Spirit of Honor inhabiting her. The best she could do was delay, but for how long? Then, her eyes lit up, in a mundane fashion, as a thought must’ve occurred to her.

“We don’t have a mediator for this duel. So we can’t—”

“I’ll watch ya fight,” a feminine voice said, calling from the back of the building. Was that the Oni? It sounds like a little kid.

The two girls turned, listening at first to a heavy thump that echoed out. It was followed by another, then a series of them as the out-of-sight creature approached slowly and methodically. Then, one of the side doors slammed open and Isabella saw it. The Oni that owned the tea house, the one that ran the challenges for the Primus Seed. The reason they were all here in the first place.

She tried not to facepalm.

Striding into the room was a girl with bright red skin covered in pink and blue swirls of color, nearly floral in their patterns, wearing a furred skirt with dark leather bands covering her modest chest. She wielded a monstrous tetsubō resting on her shoulders, a three-fingered hand gripping it tightly, and smiled, showing off small tusks jutting out from her lower jaw. Shaking her head, covered in a thick mane of white hair braided at the ends and dangling to either side of her face, Isabella could see the hair was parted by a set of horns. She couldn’t tell how long they were, as they had large golden caps exaggerating their length, but her bangs covered a third eye that was just barely visible beneath them on her forehead. She easily stood six and a half feet tall.

She was also a child.

“You’re the Oni?” Isabella asked, brow furrowed. This has to be a joke.

“Yuppers, that’s me,” the Oni said, grinning even wider. “You can call me Oni-Chan.”

Isabella stared incredulously at the oversized tween. Okay, I think I get where Millie was coming from with the whole turbin thing for that robot she keeps complaining about. Sometimes, Magincia was just straight-up absurd.

“Nows, you two gonna fight or what?” The…Oni-Chan asked, striding further into the room, taking a spot behind the bar. Isabella noted absently that at very least the Spirit didn’t need help reaching the high shelves—on top of her huge size, her limbs looked oddly long on her frame.

“Y-yeah,” Isabella said, snapping out of her distraction. Surprisingly, her Attainment held, but she suspected it was the Oni’s doing. Its soul was so overpowering she was sure it should have smashed Majestic Presence to pieces just by being so close. The fact that it was still working could only mean the Spirit was helping her out.

Rebecca, for her part, looked on the verge of either screaming or pissing herself. Isabella hoped it would be both, and she met the Golden Girl’s eyes calmly, watching the gears turning in the panicking girl’s head.

“Well?” Isabella said. “Will you accept my challenge or not, Rebecca Rosen—”

“Okimi,” Rebecca suddenly said. Isabella glowered at the interruption. How had she managed that?

“Yes, Master?” The girl said, stepping up, but keeping a wide berth from Isabella.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but begin operation last stand.”

Operation what? Isabella thought, watching in confusion as the Spirit-Bound Okimi paled. She nodded, reluctantly, then strode to stand in front of Rebecca.

“As is my Master’s right,” Okimi called out. “I, Okimi Lavore, do hereby stand as her Champion this night.”

You’re sacrificing your minions? Isabella thought, jaw clenching as she gripped her spear tightly. You fucking coward. Can I get around this though?

“Does Initiate Rosenberg truly lack the strength to face me herself? Who are you to stand in her place?”

Okimi’s bright, golden eyes met Isabella’s sadly.

“I am nothing,” she said. “Just a servant for one far greater than myself.”

Then, she pulled out a scroll.

What is she…?

The girl unfurled it, light streaming across her features from the glowing text. When she spoke, her voice boomed with the same authority that Isabella’s did.

“I challenge you, Initiate Navarro, to a fight to the death. Compel Duel.”

The scroll ignited, burning to ash as it fell to the floor and a wave of energy rippled through the tea house. Isabella staggered, feeling her brother stumble alongside her. Inside, she felt a rising urge, like an unstoppable tide, drawing her to accept.

And she felt her Attainment waver and shatter.

“That’s your plan for breaks!?” Tanya said. Her familiar chirped in shared indignation.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Millie said, holding up a chunk of Orichalcum. “I didn’t have anything planned for it, and I’m out of glue! I don’t know if I can get a weld to hold, but do you want me to throw them on or not? If so, heel or toe?”

Tanya threw her hands up with a growl. “Millie, you just said you don’t have a binding agent to weld with! These could literally rip off after the first use!”

“Maybe you could use a stick?” Braylon offered, standing up.

Both girls looked at him in silent judgment.

“You know, like skiing?”

They both continued to stare at him. Was he serious?

He cleared his throat and sat back down. “N-nevermind.”

Millie rolled her eyes. It was nice of him to offer, but a stick? Really?

Tanya opened her mouth, whether to decide on something or to vent about more teenage skating trauma Millie didn’t know, as a noise came from nearby interrupting them.

The wooden box that Millie had set the four-receiver stones in had started vibrating, as one of the stones alighted, turning on.

“Millie? Millie, we need help, it’s an ambush!”

The voice was filled with panic and something else. Pain.

“I’m here!” Millie said, grabbing the stone. “Where are you? What do you mean ambush?”

“Millie? Thank God! They were waiting for us when we got—look out!”

A shuffling noise came out, with a low thwomp in the background. Screams of pain and panic followed. A distant voice called out, but Millie couldn’t make out what it said.

“Run! We’ll meet up later, just—”

Another scream and then the sound of stone clattering. The receiver had dropped to the ground, and the broadcast cut off. Millie stood and shouted into the stone.

“Katelyn? KATELYN!”

No one answered.