“So, what you're telling me is I just became friends with a goddamn Saint?” Jim grinned. “A goddamn Saint!” The boy was elated. There was very little that could make him smile, but he seemed like he had just won the lottery. “So, do you need a guide around Spirit? I can guide you round the city, or at least the desolate strip and executioners pen. You should come to Spring Street. That's where I live. I wouldn't say I'm from there, but I've lived in the same building on the street since my deadbeat father disappeared.” His words were coming out at a mile a minute, and the sentences he was saying rammed together, as if they were one.

“Yes, me and my friends need a guide for the city. There's supposed to be a plaza for the challengers who come through, and it should be nearby, but we have no idea which direction to travel.”

“You have friends? I bet they are as strong as you. Oh man, this will be fun.” Thinking about everything else Laurence had said he stopped. “There's the old court in the pen, though no one has used that for anything in years. I can't imagine it will be much help, but Spring Street is just off there, so you may as well come my way anyway.”

The two boys continued chatting until Yun was ready to descend, and in that time Laurence learned many things about Jim. The boy was a thief, a cut-purse and a disowned member of the Caesar clan. His father had done something that was against the rules of the clan, and had been banished for it, along with his family line. The man had devolved from a powerful practitioner of the Book of Order into a drunkard that Jim had no respect for.

He lived on his own, but the old woman who lived next to him would occasionally give the boy food. Jim had no idea how many times she had actually kept him from starving, but he still found that theft was more reliable. The only danger that a thief faced in Spirit was the legion of Sir Robert Anvale, the Bobby’s boys.

They were a group of soldiers who kept the status quo in Spirit, investigating crimes and catching criminals who break the peace. The boys, or bobbies, were heavily endorsed by the clans and some were even clansmen who weren't quite talented enough to become a Saint before they turned twenty but still had the drive to work outside their respective clan dimensions. Often they would set up shop and live in the realms they were expected to work in, raising auxiliary families and clans in the public eye.

They were a pain for the thieves in the city because they were so numerous and dedicated. The clans prided themselves in the loyalty the Bobbies showed. While the Bobbies were often less powerful than a Saint, they were feared because they were zealous to the point of insanity in their keeping of the status quo, as well as the fact that in every year for all three of the golden children there would be at least a hundred people who simply were not quite as good, but still wanted to explore the tower. They would train and study the book, and at the point they reached peak Earth rank they would be released into the floor and given to Sir Robert. If they proved themselves capable, not only would they gain recognition from their clan but they would also gain access to rare medicines that could boost their cognitive abilities. The quicker they could learn, the greater their chance of attaining Sainthood, and that meant their longevity would increase by over a hundred years.

The trio inundated Jim with questions about the way things worked in the city they had found themselves in, but the more they asked the more they realised how limited Jim's knowledge was. It was understandable, though. The city was massive in scale and scope, and assuming that a single child could know everything was profoundly naive. Jim did know a lot about two subjects though; the local gangs and the bobbies.

He claimed he was in a gang, and that they were the main reason why he had managed to survive on his own for years. The gang he said he was in was called the ‘Spring Street Bashers’, one that prided itself on taking in only the strongest and most courageous people to be members. They holed up in an abandoned bakery near the centre of the street itself, and had spent the last two years turning the bakery from a shop into a fort. It was slow going, but the exterior was now far more intimidating than it had been originally.

The group stood outside the bakery and studied it in all its glory. The downstairs windows were shored up, with wooden spikes protruding out of the base of each windowsill. There was pit situated in front of the building, funnelling anyone who wanted to enter the building over a thin stone bridge and towards the incredibly thick and heavy door that seemed to be the only way in.

Jim stood outside the door and knocked three times in quick succession, then once, then twice as quickly as the first set. A thin slit opened at eye level and they heard a voice float outside. “Who is it?” Said the female voice behind the door.

“Nae, it's Jim. I've got some potentials that the boss might like.” The moment Jim spoke, the door swung open. In front of them was a young woman, about Louisa’s age, covered in tattoos and a young man, wearing completely black attire. They both had an air of command about them, but the man had one that was more approachable. Nae had aura of animosity that seemed to circle her cause people to be wary around her.

“An albino, a six year old girl and an outlander who's as bald as a monk? This is your idea of potential?” She scoffed, turning to look at the man by her side. “Orwell, are you seeing this?”

“Of course I am Nae,” the young man,Orwell replied.

“Who's a six year old girl?” Said Louisa, her voice lined with a very distinctive layer of threat and her eyes bulging wide. Laurence self-consciously stroked his scalp. His long hair had been burned off by the general aura of the maelstrom snake, and it was only now beginning to grow back. His eyebrows were in much the same state.

As Laurence mulled over his lack of head hair, Louisa began to shift her form, sliding out of the shadow she usually took and into the form of a stunningly graceful woman. She was built like a gazelle, and with the face of an angel, she could not help but put Nae to shame. “How’s this for child, girl?” she said, her voice dropping from the childish mezzo soprano to the much more womanly alto.

Both Orwell and Nae took a step back at the sight. Orwell swore, “By the lady's eye! Is this what you meant by gifted, Jim? Are we going to be inundated by a menagerie of shape-shifters?”

“That's not the best part.” Jim turned and looked at his new friends. “Guys, this is the HQ of the Spring Street Bashers. My home. Behind me are the two leaders of the gang, Orwell and Nae” He turned and looked at Orwell. “Boss, these are my friends, Law - the bald one, Yun - the albino, and Louisa - the shape-shifter. The thing you should know about them is that they are all Saints!”

Nae and Orwell both opened their mouths to say something then stopped. They closed their mouths in unison and looked at each other. Then they looked back at the group standing behind Jim. Orwell raised his hand and looked like he was about to say something but could not find the right words. Finally, after what felt like an hour Nae said “Do you have any proof?”

Laurence held out his right hand. On his index finger there was a little black ring in the shape of a snake with one eye. At the blank looks he received he finally spoke. “My name is Laurence Absolution. I am a golden child of the Absolution clan and a Saint tier challenger. If you want proof of my Sainthood then you should know that only a Saint can materialise their spirit as a tool or creature. Well this is mine. Come, Jormugand!” The moment he called the name of his weapon he thrust out his fist, palm up, and a bead of black fire sprouted from between his fingers, quickly growing into a pole before the eyes of everyone around. The flame spread into the shape of a hammerhead around a foot tall and two feet wide, then tapered back into a bladed point. Twisting the hammer made of fire round so that the tip pointed to the sky, he slammed it into the ground. The flames seemed to crystallise for a moment before shattering, revealing a black-steel hammer that was wreathed in flame.