The Commander stopped by the window. His gaze followed the moving streets, blue mountains faint in the distance. "Tell me, what do you see?" he asked, he rested his hand on the glass.

The city moved out in rings, the slums along the recesses. Like rust, eating away at the edges. "What do you want me to see?" I shivered, leaning against the windowsill.

The Commander furrowed his brow. "That's not an answer to my question."

"And I'm not going to answer it. I'm not in the mood to be tested," I said. His jaw dropped, eyes wide, gaping. I rested my head on the pane, my breath sticking to the glass. "What am I supposed to see Commander?" I rephrased the question, tracing a circle through the condensation.

He squirmed, counting his fingers. "A well oiled machine? A great city? Progress at its finest?"

"Not the poor souls enslaved to it?" I tilted my head, adding little points around the circle, drawing a gear. A cog in the machine.

He scowled, turning away from his reflection. "Is that what you really think?"

I wiped the picture away, shrugging. "Would you blame me if it was? I know what it's like, looking up from the bottom," I murmured. He glared at his shoes. I took a breath, lifting my head. "What is it you see?"

He relaxed his expression. "A nation teetering on the edge of victory or collapse…we could fall either way," his voice emotionless, empty. Does he not care about the result?

I stepped back from the window. Everything neat, exactly in its place on his desk. The room was ordered, spotless, dead. Maybe the homeless man was right about this place, maybe it is dying. I stretched out my arms, stifling a yawn. "You don't seem disturbed by the idea."

"That's how empires move, they surge and fall in an endless cycle. It gets tiresome to maintain the struggle," he said, he tossed his hand. "That is…I thought that, till you appeared out of nowhere." He lifted his head, eyes lost in awe.

"...I don't see how that should change anything," I stuttered, breaking eye contact.

"No?" He raised an eyebrow, following me away from the window. "I stared death in the eyes and felt nothing," his voice ached, the intensity slipping from his eyes. "Then a woman with fiery red hair decided my life was worth saving...suddenly, I want to live again."

He wants to live because of me? I cleared my throat, moving closer to the desk. I snatched a stack of papers, pretending to read through the big words, charts.

"Hey! That's-" He pulled it from my hands, stopping his sentence.

"That's what?" I raised an eyebrow.

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you purposely trying to irritate me?" he grumbled.

I raised an eyebrow. "You said you want to live again. I assume that means you want to win the war?"

"Yes, I'm...getting to that…" he fumbled with his words, setting the stack upside down on the desk. "These are classified."

"If you want my help, I need to know what's going on."

"I know, but it's not that simple." He frowned at me. "How do I know you won't run off to Vitriol?"

Vitriol, strange to think they're still around. I can still imagine the hills outside Discord, dark with armour, waiting for blood. I shivered, tightening my fists. "I have no love for them."

"Even so…" He kept his tone steady, "I have to be careful who I trust, as you've seen."

It's not like I'm an assassin. I tilted my head. "I'm not here to prove my loyalty. I didn't ask for this."

He searched my eyes. "Why are you here then?"

I opened my mouth, pausing. Why am I here? Why didn't I just run...I cleared my throat, eyes stuck back on those blue mountains. "Honestly? I don't know...I just can't watch everything fall apart." I loosened my shoulders, something shaky in my breathing. Not again.

The Commander nodded his head. "What I want is for the bloodshed to end," he said, pivoting back to the window. The light reflected off his eyes. "This war has been going on for as long as I can remember...a struggle placed on my shoulders." He cleared his throat, ordering his words. "There's a chance we can end this, to free Avarice from it's grip."

"And what of Vitriol?" I muttered.

"Thought you had no love for them?" The Commander raised an eyebrow.

"Sure...but I don't want them slaughtered either." I crossed my arms, slouching my shoulders. I don't want to be a weapon.

"Peace, means a treaty. Once the fighting's over, I intend to treat them fairly."

But can I trust your intentions? I frowned at the carpet, slowly lifting my head. "If I do this...I'm not killing anyone."

"Done." He stepped closer. "I won't ask you to do that."

I blinked. "You don't hesitate, Commander."

He laughed, straightening his shoulders. "And who do I answer to? I'm at the top of the food chain." Yet someone's gunning for you. He shouldn't be so confident.

He leaned on the desk, sliding the papers over."You can make more demands, you know? You did save my life," he chuckled. "You want a nicer place? Your expenses taken care of? These are small things for me."

Wait, what? "Um well, that sounds nice but-"

"Consider it done." He stood up, offering his hand. "Will you join me in ending this war?"

I stared at his hand, outstretched and waiting. Should I do this? I hesitated, rubbing my neck. My fingers traced back over my scar. What would the old Phyn do? ...The one who wanted to save the world. I slipped my hand back to my side. "I have one last condition…I want access to the archives." I looked up, keeping my gaze steady. I can't let old dreams stop me from putting the pieces together.

"The archives?" he laughed, "Why would you want that?"

I need to know the truth. I shrugged. "I like history." I stepped back, raising an eyebrow. "...I don't need to help you."

His eyes trained on me, he frowned. "It’s an odd request...but I don't see why not."

Wonderful. I stretched out my hand to him, a steady nod. "You've convinced me then."

Shaking my hand, he said, "On behalf of Avarice, I thank you."

"It's a little early for that," I laughed, pulling my hand back.

"Maybe, but I'm feeling optimistic." He brushed his dark curls back. "If we're going to be working together, may I call you Phynley?"

I nodded. "Sure, what's your name?"

He blinked at me. "You want my name?"

"Ya...is there something wrong with that?" I dropped my grin.

He rubbed his chin. "Well, no...but it's improper to call me by my first name, at least in public."

The manners here are confusing. "Oh, well, can I at least know it?" I offered.

He slid his eyes over. "Fine...you can call me Jude, but only if no one else is around." He scratched his head, avoiding my gaze. "Now then, I have to work out your role with the council, make an official contract. That may take a few days." He tilted his head, tapping his chin. "In the meantime I can have your accommodations arranged, your stuff moved over. Ingrid will help you with that." Great.

I shook my head. "That isn't necessary, where I live is fine-"

"Nonsense, you're a national hero." He stood up, heading to the door. "You deserve an upgrade."

Even if I don't care? I twisted a frown, dragging my feet. "Okay...but nothing too expensive."

He nodded, giving a suspicious grin. "I'll find you something practical, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," I muttered, stalling at the door. What does practical mean in the Ruling district?

"Great." He reached the door, turning back. "You're different than I expected."

I chuckled, "Ya? And what did you expect a teleporting party-crasher to be like?"

"I don't know…" He pushed the door open.

"Exactly," I said. I'm just a human being, undeserving of awe. I slipped out the door, following Jude down the hall.

He stopped, pursing his lips. "I meant to ask, does anyone else know about your ability?"

Good question... I shrugged my shoulders. "Besides the whole room today? Not that I know of. It's possible someone's guessed, but I try to be careful." I tapped my chin. "No, I don't think anyone knows."

"It would be a strange guess," Jude hummed, "people only joke about disappearing into thin air."

I laughed, an uneasiness in my gut. What an odd thing to say...are Wanderer's that infrequent in this time? Surely stories should keep such a guess alive? Wouldn't they?

"Just keep it that way, better Vitriol doesn't know," he said, breaking away. "Brian!" Jude called, charging up to the counter.

The young man looked up, nearly falling out of his chair. "Sir?" He blinked with his beady eyes.

"Where's Ingrid?" Jude loomed over him.

The assistant stuttered, "She's...in a meeting...um."

Jude raised his hands. "Get her here. I want to get things moving."

"Um...Sir…"

"What is it Brian?" Jude glared at him.

The assistant fidgeted, pulling his tie. "Do you really want me to interrupt her? I-"

"Commander," I interrupted. "Maybe give him a chance to speak, you're being a little intense."

He blinked at me "I am?"

I nodded. "Ya, slow down."

Jude opened his mouth to speak, gaping at me. I walked up to the desk. "Brian, right?" He nodded, darting his eyes to Jude.

I leaned on the counter. "When you have the chance, can you tell Ingrid that the Commander would like to see her soon?"

Brian moved his eyes back to mine, his facial features mouse-ish. I raised an eyebrow. "Will that work?"

Brian nodded, readjusting his head set. I pushed back from the counter, smirking at Jude. "Now was that so hard?"

He frowned at me. My steps continuing past, I followed the hall back towards the elevator. His expression shifted, he chased after me. "Wait! Where are you going?"

I flicked my head back. "Home...I thought we were done?" I clicked the elevator button.

"But we haven't worked everything out-"

"What's to work out? You let me know what hoops I have to jump through, and everything will come together."

His lips in a firm line, Jude's eyes were wide and desperate.

"I'll come back," I laughed, the door rolling open. I stepped inside.

"Phynley I-"Jude caught in his sentence, the door closing.

"Let Murray know I found my way home," I said, his face disappearing. Honestly I need time to think, collect myself.

I picked a button, a soft glow around its rim. The elevator falling, the numbers counted back down. 150...149...148...

He's not what I expected either. A little intense, conflicted, not used to being challenged. At least I'll be able to get into the archives...find out what I'm missing. There's something wrong with this place, I can't quite put my finger on it.

89…The lights flickered, the elevator walls shaking. Everything went black, lost in darkness. What's happening? I held onto the walls, my heart racing. A horrid squeal, the elevator screeched to a stop. Deep breaths, the compartment stilled.

I stumbled over to the buttons. Smashing them with my fists, no buttons lit up. Oh no. The whole place stayed dark. I backed away from the walls. I need to get out of here.

A thud hit the ceiling, footsteps tracing overhead. I stepped back, eyes locked on the roof. Someone's up there. Someone's on the roof. A click, something scraped across the surface above. The panel slid over, a tired sigh echoing through. They're coming down.

A mop of brown hair flopped through, an upside down snarl. A woman with an eyepatch blinked at me. "Aw crap," she hissed, flicking her head back up.

What is this? I stepped closer, peering up through the opening. She swung her legs down, hopping into the elevator. I fell back, hitting the floor. The compartment shook. She straightened her posture, grey cargo pants and plain black t-shirt. That same wide snarl. "I was expecting this thing to be empty," she grumbled, pushing past me.

"Who are you?" I stuttered, inching back to the wall. She shrugged her shoulders, stopping by the panel. The light flickered back on, the mechanical hum resuming.

"Mind if I ride with you for a floor?" She pointed at a button. How is she doing this? She ran her hands down the rows of buttons, all lit up.

"Hey! What do you think-"

She gave a devilish grin, the door sliding open. "Happy trails!" I reached after her, the door sliding in my face.

What just happened? Who is that? Her smirk taunting me, I tightened my fists. She thinks she can mess with me.

The elevator descended, creeping slowly. I know better than to chase her...better than to throw around my gifting. Slowing at the next floor, the door rolled open. I ran out, looking both ways. I spun in place. But what do I do? I'm guessing no one's supposed to be hijacking the elevator. But who do I tell? Tan-grey walls, basic fixtures. I picked a direction, scattering down the hall.

I pushed through big metal doors, freezing in place. Men and women in white lab coats, talking in monotone voices. Jalls circled behind the front desk. Well light, shiny white walls.

The woman at the desk yawned, clicking something on her computer screen. I tiptoed closer, ordering my words. How do I say this? She looked up from the screen. "Can I help you?"

"Um...yes. Maybe I-"

"What's your name?" She raised an eyebrow. "I can pull up your file."

I shook my head "That doesn't matter. I was just in the elevator and someone jumped in through the ceiling," I rambled, my voice scattered.

"Are you a patient here?" She asked dully, rolling her chair around. "Who are you under?"

"What? No-"

"Are you experiencing anything else unusual?" she yawned again, resting on her arm. "They may want me to take note." She searched for a pen.

I gaped at her. "I'm not insane! She was real, it just happened!" I frowned at the door, turning back. "This could be serious," I growled.

"No need to yell." She lifted her head, eyes back to the screen.

I stifled an angry laugh, "I'm not yelling! I-"

Footsteps behind me, over my shoulder. "Oh, I would qualify that as yelling," a man's voice snorted. I turned to argue, shutting my mouth. I know him.

The blonde, bearded man's eyes went wide. "Oh no...not you." he groaned. " I'm not dealing with you again, no way."

"Glad I'm not forgettable." I smirked at him. That doctor...I think they brought him in to evaluate me in prison.

He shook his finger at me, turning to the woman. "I don't know how she does it, but as soon as you turn your back, she'll disappear. Try explaining that to your superiors."

"You expect me to stay in prison if I can escape?" I laughed.

He narrowed his eyes, scowling at me. "She's slippery Eva, and very snarky. Don't waste your breath-"

"Listen, this is important." I threw my hands in the air. "Someone hijacked the elevator."

"They what?" He blinked, turning his head.

I took a deep breath, rolling my eyes. "She stopped the elevator, hopped in through the ceiling, and jumped off at the next floor. I don't know what else I can say."

"That sounds ridiculous," he snorted. "How would someone even manage to-"

"I'm not lying! A woman with an eyepatch jumped right-"

"An eyepatch?" He froze, something shifting in his eyes. "You said, an eyepatch?"

"Yes, why?" Does he know her?

He stepped back from the counter, the colour draining from his face. "Eva...I need you to place a call to security. Tell them I need to talk to Murray." The woman moved without hesitation, pushing buttons on the receiver. He knows Murray…

"I'll take the call on my private line." He walked past the counter, tilting his head back. "Come on," he ordered. I rolled my eyes, running after the doctor.

We slowed, approaching one of the rooms down the hall. Dr. Oliver Strong, on the door. I stumbled into the cluttered office, tripping over papers on the floor. "Sorry about the mess," he said, scratching his head. Sure. I stepped around the stacks, pulling a chair beside his desk. A big bookshelf against the wall, certificates framed beside it. proudly on the wall. A picture of a pretty woman and a child with curly hair. A big grin, the same blue eyes as the doctor.

Dr. Oliver Strong sat down at his desk. Eyes on the phone, he tapped his fingers. The phone rang, he lifted the receiver. "Murray...it's raining." Oliver Strong growled, sinking into his seat. I furrowed my brow. What did that mean? He darted his eyes back to me. "Ya someone saw her in the elevator, apparently she bolted." He put the receiver against his shoulder. "What floor did she exit on?"

I squirmed, raising my hands. "Eighty-eight, I think."

"Eighty-eight," he repeated, drumming his fingers on the desk. "Ya she's right here...I've run into her before, she was arrested-" Oliver stopped, his eyes widening. "What do you mean? I just let her go?" he grumbled. That's right. I smiled back.

He rubbed his face, turning his chair away. "This is insane. What are you thinking?" A pause, Oliver's face fell. He whipped his head around, eyes on me "You're kidding...really?" He shook his head. "Fine, I'll leave this with you." Oliver hung up the receiver, his gaze fixed on his desk. "Good to know I wasn't crazy," he muttered.

Taking a breath, he held out his hand to me. "Seems I should offer you an apology. We may be working together in the future."

Working together? I gawked at his hand. Why would we work together? He's a doctor. I scooted back in the chair, crossing my arms. He's not going to experiment on me...is he? "What do you mean, work together?"

"Your one of Murray's people, so am I," he chuckled, straining his fingers. "Are you really going to leave me hanging?"

Well that's a little better. I uncrossed my arms, shaking his hand. "Phynley Okie."

"Oliver Strong." He grinned, sitting back in his chair. "Murray's told me to send you home. Apparently you have moving to do?"

I turned over my shoulder. "But what about the woman?"

Oliver shrugged. "Murray will deal with Raine. It's in good hands." Now he's unconcerned? I glared at him, twisting a frown.

"Go home." Oliver stood up, matching my glare.

"I can help." I rose to my feet. I want to.

Oliver nodded. "Helping is going home."

"I can do more." I shook my head, stepping back, I tripped over the stack of papers. Scattered, I bent over to collect them.

He raised an eyebrow. "I really don't want you to."

I opened my mouth to argue, sticking with a scowl. "...Working with you is going to be infuriating."

Oliver snorted, "Yes, something we both can look forward to."

"Ya whatever." I narrowed my eyes, stabilizing the pile. "It's not my fault your office is a pigsty," I growled, dusting myself off. I stomper for the door.

"You got me there," he chuckled, sitting back down at his desk, "I'll see you around, Okie."

"See you…" I frowned back at him, before slipping out. What an infuriating person. I chuckled, smiling as I marched back towards the office. Least he almost apologized.

I kept my head down, the secretary eyeing me suspiciously. I can play along, do as I'm told. Better to pick my battles, let it count. No need to go chasing crazy one-eyed brunettes. Besides, Drake needs to answer for himself…time to visit my traitorous blackmarket dealer.