QUEST COMPLETE: THE VIAL

Discover the purpose of Riot’s new boono habit.

The notification had popped up the moment Sham slammed Riot’s door behind him, but Sham could find little solace in it. Extra experience—if not enough to get him a skill upgrade—would normally be cause for celebration, but not on this day. Sham had other matters weighing deeply on his mind.

If only he’d been able to reach Riot, things might have turned out different. She might be off the boono, the drug that was all but killing her. But she’d made it incredibly clear that Sham could do nothing to put her off the stuff. That she needed it. That there was nothing that Sham could say to change her mind.

‘You do remember that you have Legendary grade Magnetism now, don’t you?’ Recollection asked as Sham stomped down the apartment’s stairwell.

‘No. Kinda got distracted. And isn’t it your job to remember for me? Isn’t that your whole deal?’

‘Didn’t want to interrupt,’ Recollection replied, and unless it was just Sham’s imagination, the response was accompanied by a remembered shrug.

There was nothing that Sham could say that would change Riot’s mind, but there was certainly something he could do. He could free her—free them all—from the Loop.

‘Easier said than done…’

Yes. It was. But they were two officers of Legion down—soon to be three down after they ironed out the creases in the Warren plan—and Sham already had a lead on how to get the government on side in Ms Weekes. Sham would hurry up. He wouldn’t sleep, if he had to. He’d ignore the pain that blossomed when he pushed his body too far. He’d do anything to keep Riot from—

‘You’re forgetting something.’

‘What?’ Sham responded as his feet hit the solid ground floor. ‘Just what in the hells am I forgetting?’

QUEST LIST

KILL THE LEGION

Six officers stand between you and the prime minister. Eliminate them from the equation, and Enoch Chambers is vulnerable.

TROUBLEMAKER

There's one out there who would ruin everything if he knew what you intended. Keep him out of it.

FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES

Track down Ms Weekes. Bring her on side.

Right.

The so-called Troublemaker.

Kryl.

But that was a matter of time, too. Kryl didn’t yet seem to have his own pieces in place. His plan, whatever it was, was not yet fully formed. If Sham and the resistance could move quickly, that problem would resolve itself. This left Sham with only one course of action available to him: move… fast.

He felt the rush of energy that accompanied a notification. A quest unlock in this case, surely—a task so important to the soul that the system granted it a place in a quest list, and rewards for its completion. But… his mind was filled with the memory of Riot’s boono abuse, the near-manipulative things she’d been saying to him, and just like that, the urgency faded away. With the fading urgency, the quest unlock faded, too.

‘People do strange things when they’re sick,’ Recollection said. ‘Surely you remember that.’

Sham shook his head; he didn’t need a pep talk from a skill turned sentient, of all people, right now. Quest or not, he’d get to work, and he’d start by getting an update on Ms Weekes from the one man he was actually coming to trust—Asa Cuttle. Who would’ve thought this criminal would be the only truly reliable one, back when the resistance had formed? Definitely not Sham, that was for sure.

From Riot’s apartment to the harbours on End Street, there was, at least, a tram connection, but it was one that would take Sham into the centre of town before heading back south into the Harbour District. While time was once again of the essence, walking this distance would still take longer, and would do Sham’s disease-ridden body no good, so he settled in for the long journey.

It gave him time to consider his next move. Assuming Asa had come through and tracked down this Ms Weekes, the MP that might be open to hearing what they have to say, what would Sham do next? Even with a Magnetism skill up his sleeve, he’d need Riot to help him navigate the unknown waters of high society—niceties could only go so far. And then Sham would be back to knocking on her door, biting his tongue, and trying to make her productive in ending this Loop. Gods, between her and the rest of the resistance, Sham wasn’t half feeling like a sheepdog right about now—herding everyone towards their objectives.

But, as the tram hurtled around the corner into Government Plaza, Sham decided he could cross that bridge when it came to it. Maybe Asa wouldn’t have the information yet, or there would be some other problem to fix before he could approach this contact. Maybe there’d be some time for Riot to cool off.

‘Just Riot?’

‘Just Riot,’ Sham said, and turned his attention to nicer matters. Cups of tea. A long night’s sleep. That kind of thing.

On the tram hurtled, swinging a left down into the Harbour District, along dirty, winding streets cramped by the stalls of makeshift merchants and the homeless population lying on the pavement. It was a strange place to call home, Sham realised, but nevertheless he felt a fondness for it that—

The tram screeched to a halt, flinging Sham forward into the seat in front, bashing his nose into the metal railings. He cried out involuntarily at the pain and clutched at his broken, bleeding nose. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he blinked around at the rest of the tram.

Behind him were passengers in much the same state as him—bruised and otherwise injured, all of them nursing these fresh wounds. The confusion on their faces matched Sham’s own, and he was operating with the advantage of a common grade Reasoning skill, and all.

The front of the tram, however, was another matter entirely.

There were no bruised and bleeding passengers, not expressions of confusion plastered across their faces. There was only… nothing.

The front of the vehicle was gone. The back half tilted forwards, into the ground, a clean break in the metal shell as though it’d been cleaved in two by some infinitely sharp blade yielded by a god. The break was dull only where the remaining half of the tram had collided and scraped against the ground, this friction being the cause of Sham’s sudden leap forward and broken nose.

Thick red liquid dripped to the tram’s floor and Sham blinked on at the strange absence ahead of him. He stared into it, frozen, mind seemingly absent of any thought, and was interrupted only by a woman about his age waving a slightly dirty handkerchief in front of him.

With a small smile, he took the cloth and pressed it to his nose, stemming the flow of blood. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, turning back to the front of the tram—to where only moments earlier there had been a control booth, and a driver, and a couple of dozen passengers.

‘Off!’ someone shouted, and Sham wrenched his head to look around at the other passengers, only to find that they were all staring at him, rather than at whoever had shouted.

‘That was you, mate.’

Oh. In that case…

‘Off!’ Sham shouted again, waving his arms hurriedly toward the door this time around.

[COMMAND] PLEASE VACATE THE VEHICLE: SUCCESS

This time around, they’ll listen. In moments of horror, of action, of tragedy, people will always look for a leader—that’s just their nature.

The dazed and injured crowd shuffled hastily towards the remaining door, taking turns to hop down to the ground. The taller, stronger passengers waited by the doors to help down the elderly and the young, none of them sharing a single word, so bewildered were they by the events of the last couple of minutes.

Finally Sham reached the door, nodding to the two passengers who had been helping people exit, and letting them know that he was fine without them. He looked around at the half-tram, making absolutely sure there was nobody else left on board. Sham hadn’t immediately known why he’d ordered everyone off the vehicle, but in hindsight it had been obvious; he didn’t know that whatever was happening would stop there.

‘Whatever was happening?’ Recollection repeated. ‘We both know what’s happening. Say it. Say it, Sham.’

Sham hopped from the vehicle, turned back to face it, and stepped backward into the crowd, newly formed of passengers and onlookers alike. Dozens of faces stared on at the tram cleaved in two, derailed from the lines and tilted into the road beneath.

A murmuring started. Gentle, at first, but building quickly into a chatter that died down slightly only when a woman—the same who’d given Sham her handkerchief—asked Sham, ‘What is this?’

‘I…’ he started. ‘I…’

A wailing drowned him out. For good measure, really, because he wasn’t sure he could tell them the truth. He wasn’t quite sure he could tell himself the truth, even.

As Sham turned to the source of the crying, a young girl sprinted toward for the half-tram, falling to her knees at its side. The same kind woman approached her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, and helping the child back to her feet. ‘What’s wrong, darling?’ she said.

But the girl only cried louder.

‘Hey, it’s OK,’ the woman continued. ‘Where are your parents? Let’s go find them, shall we?’

‘I…’ the child managed through fits of hysteria.

‘Where are they?’ the woman asked again, her voice high in pitch like everyone did when trying to encourage children to stop crying. ‘You were on the tram with me, weren’t you? They were with you?’

‘I don’t…’ the girl said. ‘I don’t remember.’ With that, she collapsed to the floor once more, and the fits of tears continued, larger than ever.

‘You need to say it, Sham.’

He shook his head.

‘Say it, Sham, so you can act. Admit to yourself what this is.’

‘I…’

‘Say it!’

‘The Fringe!’ Sham replied, aloud, not caring about the dozens of eyes shifting to him at this announcement. Some of the onlookers, gulped, some turned away, and others bit back tears—everyone, of course, knew what this was, but only Sham had so far admitted it.

The Fringe, Sham thought again. Not just some foreign concept, that wipes far away and exotic cities from the map, but a danger that was at Haven’s very shores. In its very walls. The missing wheel, now the missing half of a tram, this had all the hallmarks of the Fringe—erasing objects, people, not just from existence but from memory itself. An eradication that even a legendary grade Recollection couldn’t handle.

If the void incarnate was here… if it was blossoming into life within Haven’s walls, then it was the Loop that had caused it. The Fringe itself had told Sham that—that it sought to preserve the Loop because it sought the continued corruption of this world. That with every Loop it grew stronger.

And it was this very Loop that Sham, too, had preserved—all for a woman who would break the very laws of nature to have cured his illness. All for a woman he wasn’t sure he could love any more, after what she’d turned into.

He’d done this.

The death of this girl’s parents—no, not death, because they’d no longer ever lived—was on his hands. All these erasures were on him. Sham dropped cloth from his nose, and he looked down at his hands, stained red.

Riot’s health was one thing, but the health of reality itself was something else entirely. Move fast? Oh yes—he was gonna move fucking fast alright. This time, the quest came to him; there really was nothing like the end of the world to kick you up the arse.

QUEST UNLOCKED: MORE THAN TIME ENOUGH

You know how to break the Loop. Get to it. Now. Before the Fringe consumes everything.

But… no.

The Fringe had always been in Haven, hadn’t it?

‘No, it…’

This part of the tram had always been missing, hadn’t it?

‘Sham, no. Don’t let it do this to you. Fight it.’

This… this was normal, wasn’t it?

‘Fight it!’

As Sham accepted the Fringe’s presence in Haven, the void growled within him.