Jaxl was busy this whole time, drawing up plans and a crew for a job unlike any other. And he liked me enough to show the results without the meticulous groundwork attached.

“We’ll need two teams to get all the intel we need,” he said on our way back, after handing me a card with the details. “Me and Tapio can take care of any work that can be done secretly, and when the final job comes, I’ll be on the frontlines with you.”

We rented an automated Aerotaxi, and Jaxl keyed in the Oracle Bureau’s head office. Crystalline wall and roof plates shimmered blue then produced a perfect scrolling replicant of Hadron’s gothic skyline.

I sat across from Jaxl on a plush red seat, but it didn’t feel right. In order to see eye-to-eye, I hopped up and sat on the headrest, maintaining a precarious balance on red leather.

“This sounds like a pretty big deal,” I observed.

“It is. There are prying eyes everywhere and since the Rings are abusing the Hunter’s system, we have to play their game. You’ll be running under a partnership registered underneath one of Tapio’s subsidiaries.” He sent a location to my display. Our soon-to-be new base. “This way, you’ll just be one of the many Hunters running around — you’re just doing jobs that happen to be put up by us. I know the value of good communication, so we’ll keep in touch.”

A sound start to a plan. Seems like there was plenty of work to be done until we could actually chase after Whitelight.

What occurred to me as strange was how serious Jaxl was treating me. Up until a few days ago, I was a big ol’ stupid rock, and now, I was a gem powering a dumpy-looking drone. I couldn’t even look at myself without self-deprecating giggles.

I hadn’t been able to converse with him in full since we reached Hadron. If he valued communication so much, now would be the time to talk.

“You’re being awfully open with your plans,” I said. “A lot less conspiratorial than I thought you’d be.”

“I have varying levels of honesty,” Jaxl said, shrugging off my suspicion. “Think of it as a customer loyalty program. Buy more, get more. No matter what you are or what you look like, it’s a good idea to take everybody seriously — you’ll never know who somebody is behind their mask.”

That gave me pause. “Does that mean I’m important?”

Now that I thought of it, somebody landing in the same Ruin that I was in was dubious. He was awfully quick to accept me. Could he have been waiting for me to show up?

No, I couldn’t ask that yet. I had my suspicions, but airing them at the wrong time would put me in a precarious situation. I saw how Jaxl dealt with other people; keeping my motives and thoughts concealed would keep me on a level playing field.

“Pretty damn important,” Jaxl admitted. “As far as general intrigue goes, you’re a pretty good wildcard to have. Nobody knows me these days, ‘cept for a select few. Nobody knows you these days, ‘cept for a select few. Us working together? We’ll be able to keep a low profile. You help me, I help you.”

A fair proposal. “But what if I don’t really know what I want from you?”

“Call in a future favor, then. In the meanwhile, watch and observe. You’ll learn the basics.” Jaxl shrugged. “World’s a bit hard to navigate, these days. I think it’s best you hit the ground running, rather than hitting every branch on the way down. The more friends you have, the better your reputation, the less likely anybody’s going to mess with you.”

It was a fair argument. I needed better ways to defend myself and more people to rely on. If every Hunter was like Jaxl and Owl, then I’d have some serious trouble if anybody wanted to steal me.

What a bother. If only I wasn’t valuable — I would’ve had a much easier time blending into society.

“Tell me more about the job,” I said, veering us towards the original topic. “What’s your take on it?”

“It’s a pain in the ass kind of job, but it’ll set us right. Lots of Electrum for those interested, and us — me and Tapio — the showrunners, we’ve got our personal motivations. Business-like motivations.” He leaned forward. “I’ll tell you right now, ideals have no place in zen, nor do they have a home in professionalism. Don’t get cocked up by anything that comes. Keep it professional.”

Clean, crisp, detached. If only I could operate that smoothly.

I was reading through the planned details while we conversed. The road ahead was divided into three phases: reconnaissance, counter-intelligence, and execution. While pretending to be an ordinary new group of hunters, we’d run curated jobs and requests in what was left of Granport, sabotage or convert as many of our enemies as we could, then launch our offensive during an Oracle sanctioned raid against the Empress of Snow’s domain; this would give us full cover and plausible deniability when it came to the aftermath.

There was only one critical missing detail.

I looked up at Jaxl. “Where exactly… is Whitelight?”

“I’m still in the process of figuring that out,” Jaxl said. “Don’t worry, though. As soon as we get cash where it needs to be and the team where it’s supposed to go, everything will fall into place.”

Everybody involved was chasing after rumors, it seemed. No wonder Jaxl was so unenthused about the end goal; nobody would want to pursue a prize that didn’t exist.

“When do I have to start doing things?” I asked, tentatively.

“Perfect timing.” Jaxl reached into a drawer built into the side of the Aerotaxi and pulled out canned ginger from an ice bath. Flicked the tab thrice, as though reciting a code. “The plan’s already in motion, and your job’s coming right up. We’re about to meet our first Talent.”

Talent was in a gilded hallway deep in Oracle HQ, wearing a black and blue capelet sewn into monk’s threads. Jaxl unceremoniously lobbed the can at her head, spinning it like a speeding bullet. In a single motion, the Talent flicked the book she was reading and intercepted it midflight with the leather cover.

“Your reactions are as good as your mother’s now,” Jaxl said, watching her catch the dented can in her free hand. “Training, or Nexus?”

“The Nexus system is a crutch.” Pale grey eyes confronted us behind dark blue bangs, wincing in distaste. “You look different from what I expected.”

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Jaxl’s grin widened, exposing pearly whites like hand saw blades. “Is it the smile?”

“I would appreciate some discretion,” she said. Then she looked him up and down, blinked twice, and held two fingers to her temple, immediately turning her back on us. A hexagonal sigil glimmered in her right eye for a brief moment, spinning fast enough to form a single red lotus. “The Nexus prints match. You really are my contact.”

Jaxl tilted his head. “Wouldn’t have gone near this damned office if I wasn’t. Smells like corporate bullshit in here.”

“We’re both here on business, Mister Jaxl.” A curt frown twisted her lips. “Keep whatever commentary and reminiscence of old times you may have to yourself. The executive board room is open and ready.”

She turned and briskly walked off without us. The obsidian ground she tread lit up with footsteps, a path paved in blue.

“Patronizing, and she’s got a ten foot pole up her ass,” Jaxl grumbled to me as we followed. “Just like her mother.”

The blood of the Oracle’s headquarters spilled out before us, a faint concealing white fog that congealed over black glass offices and the ends of hallways that weren’t in our direct trajectory. A great number of mist-concealed individuals scurried about at their own pace through the network of halls and stairs, passing by nearly seamless walls threaded with supports like the ribs of long-dead ivory sea serpents.

Executive Office 307 was a blank room furnished with a table-height black slab, two chairs, and wall of white plastic cases. Our contact took the nearest to the table slab and twisted the runic combination lock, deftly manipulating floating lights with her fingertips.

“The order, as per our arrangement,” she said, taking out two blades in ornamental sheaths. “Counterfeit enchanted sabers. Eight and forty, combined with a smattering of three counterfeit Whitelights.”

Jaxl inspected the ordinary blade first, running a gloved finger along the black metal blade. He gave it a few crude swings, wielding it with all the finesse of a first-time baseball player.

“A damn fine sword,” he said, twirling the blade. “It’s a shame swords are terrible in a proper brawl.”

Next came the inspection of the false Whitelight: a blade forged from perfectly clear glass. The only way I could tell that there was a blade connected to the silver hilt at all through my camera was from the slight refraction of the room's ambient light; it was an invisible blade, through and through.

Jaxl clicked his tongue rapidly, which I presumed was his best impression of an approving whistle. “Damn. Feels and looks like the real thing. Not that I’ve actually had a chance to hold the real thing.”

The Talent stared at Jaxl as he played around with the blade. When he placed both blades back in their sheaths, she asked, “Where’s your analyst?”

“Right here,” he said, pointing to the drone that was currently riding on his shoulder. “Tell ‘em what you see, V.”

After observing Tapio and his craft for about a week, I got the general idea of how arcane items were created. My gate theory from the days when I was trapped underground proved partially correct; combinations of particularly woven circuits could combine into one another and create different effects, ranging from spawning lethal poisons to hyperdimensional tearing (which was Tapio’s specialty, as he proudly proclaimed to me).

Through my Ether-based senses, these blades were hopelessly complicated; they were fluorescent with raw power. An average person who couldn’t visualize exactly what was going on would just see a sword-shaped block of pure power.

“There’s something hidden inside the handle,” I observed, visualizing exactly what was happening.

There was a strange set of near-microscopic gates contained within the handle’s of the blades, well-hidden by both craftsmanship and seemingly intricate — and equally delicate — enchantments. It took me far longer than expected to come to any sort of conclusion; it seemed as though various gates were funneling some sort of Ether-based wave into a gate I had never seen before.

Then again, I had my inherited knowledge from both Samson and Lyra. Crossing the intellectual streams provided me a comparison point: the internal of that gate node looked awfully like a circuit board for a particular piece of technology Samson was very familiar with.

“It looks like a discrete observation device,” I summarized. “Captures both light and sound and relays it somewhere. I could probably reverse engineer it if you gave me some time.”

“That would place you on the Bureau's hitlist,” said the woman, icily. “Our company’s secrets are insured against prying eyes.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jaxl said, covering my cowering physique. He pulled one of the only two seats up and sat at the table, gesturing for the woman to join him on the other side. “You’re aware of why I reached out to you in particular, and not any one of the myriads of other sects-turned-corporate. We could use somebody of your talent.”

That got him a cold sneer. “I have no interest in pursuing further business with you. I’m a busy woman these days; I have little time to squander on pointless ploys like these.”

“It’s the best kind of business. A chance to make some — a lot — of money, promote your sect-company, settle a vendetta. All of the above, you see.” He gestured again. “Sit down, let us speak not as merchants, but as brothers-in-arms.”

She crossed her arms. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

“This business is about your brother, Sier Yuan Taria, and his defection to a particular group of interest — a group of interest that these weapons, which your clan graciously provided us, will be used in the interception of.”

Something snapped in Sier’s liquid ice professionalism. Her nostrils flared, her eyes hardened; the very ends of her fingertips pulled at her suit’s silken seams.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t personally pluck your tongue and see how far I can shove it up your fucking ass.”

“We’ve found him. This is your chance to catch up.”

Jaxl pulled a previously unseen dossier and placed it on the table. The first page contained pictures of people that were recently taken — and Sier wasn’t the only one who flinched when she saw the contents.

A blindfolded man with short blue hair. A bloodstained woman.

Cassandra.

“They’ve done a damn fine job of keeping themselves hidden in plain sight,” Jaxl continued. “Contained here is all the information gathered from five years of research. Consider it a sign-on bonus. Do what you will with it — what I need is your cooperation in the immediate future. Hands-on cooperation.”

It may not have been polite to eavesdrop, but my senses were not constrained to a single point of view. There were identities contained within, records of lives discarded; merchants, crafts, priests, soldiers, scholars, Hunters and artists alike — those who abandoned their past to join the Four Rings.

“I am not my mother.” Sier’s expression soured as she lingered on the profile of a certain Tobias Yuan Taria. Her allegedly missing brother, according to the documents. “Who are you? An old associate of hers?”

“You could say that,” Jaxl said. “We were in the same circles, back then. That’s why I’m offering an invitation — I think you’d be especially grateful for the opportunity to avenge her murder and following… desiccation.”

Sier forced herself to sit. “What’s the catch?”

“The Rings are coordinating a large-scale operation to capture the real Whitelight — among other things. I’m putting together a team to stop them in their tracks.”

“Among other things?”

“That other thing being uncovering the man behind the man — I’m looking for the bastard who caused the Qliphoth; the very same bastard that did your family dirty. The truth.” A shrug. “To do that, we need a sorcerer. Not just any sorcerer, but a sorcerer with skin in the game. Somebody who can play any face we need, and somebody who has enough rage to fill a few graves when the time comes.”

Sier nodded once, considering Jaxl’s offer. Then she nodded to herself faster, eventually snapping her fingers at him with a conspiratorial smile.

“So you already know everything about me.”

“Hard not to. You’re a micro-celebrity outside the Frontier.”

“So what’s the time scale?”

“A month for the whole ordeal — start to sword, maximum.”

“Money?”

“Little investment, heavy payout — but none of the current team signed up for only the money. This is personal for everybody involved; that’s how you can ensure both loyalty and efficiency.”

It seems like Jaxl has a knack for getting the perfect people for a job. It was a bit frightening seeing how fast somebody who looked so detached came around this quickly, but vengeance was a fine motivator in these cases.

Many details were blotted out on Tobias’s page, but I got the gist of what happened in the Yuan Taria family.

It wasn’t pretty.

“Through some credible sources,” Jaxl continued, “I’ve caught wind of a Republican transport that has some cargo meant for the Four Winds. We’ll be graciously adding our own contribution, for the sake of reconnaissance. This is our first step — we’ll be moving quite shortly.”

“That’s quite the large-scale snatch and grab and…” She blinked. “Replacement, you’ve got going.”

“This has been in the works for a while. There’s a plan, and we have our parts to play.”

Sier looked at the cases populating the room, drumming her fingers on the table. “How soon do we start?”

Jaxl looked at his watch. “Tonight. In six hours, to be exact.”

Sier stared at the lizard for a long moment. Then she took out a cellphone, dialed a number, and said, “Jun Hua? Clear out my schedule. I’ve got some important clientele to deal with.”