“Do you know what day it is today Ed?” McCarthy stood stoically in his office. He was wearing a blue suit jacket, a grey vest, blue pants and brown shoes. His pinstriped suit was wrinkled, his tie seemed a little crumpled and his perfectly arranged hair was in slight disarray. It looked like he had gotten into a bit of a tussle. What was even more unusual was that his hands were stuffed in his pocket, and his back was slouched. McCarthy was a man of precision and exactness, his back was always straight and his hands were never casually inside his pockets… such sloppiness had never been seen before. McCarthy’s foot tapped restlessly as he waited for Ed to respond.

Ed, sensing the expectation sighed. He shrugged half heartedly, “Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow.”

McCarthy grimaced and didn’t respond. But he was clearly displeased with Ed’s answer.

Ed sniffed the air carefully. Ed reached into his consciousness to make sure Jannes was well hidden, satisfied with his little check Ed began to soak in the office. The scent of tobacco around McCarthy was much stronger than before. McCarthy waited some more as if waiting for Ed to try again. Ed however was not willing to play twenty-four hundred Socratic questions with the Chancellor. So, he patiently waited and let his eyes roam around the office. He noticed how the Chancellor looked off into the distance through the window behind his desk, his back to Ed. Ed didn’t understand why he did these empty and sentimental gestures all the time. the change of clothes. Then Ed realized McCarthy had changed his clothes and McCarthy’s overall appearance was a little ruffled. It can’t be… did McCarthy get into a fight? He ventured to ask.

“Sir… er um… Chancellor, why did you change your clothes?”

“Eh? What was that?” McCarthy cocked his head to one side, as if not comprehending what Ed was asking.

“Well…” Ed began nervously — McCarthy absently nodded, head still turned to the side. “Earlier today you were wearing grey pants and brown shoes.”

McCarthy turned his head away from the window to one side, one of his eyes casually focussed on Ed. “Oh… Yes, I was.”

“Why did you change? You never change.”

McCarthy faced the window and shrugged, “You never know who you can trust Ed… You just never know.”

“What does that mean sir?” Ed carefully let the final word hang in the air, testing the waters.

McCarthy ignored the fact that Ed called him “sir” and absently shrugged again, “I think we have another purge coming.” At this McCarthy turned and squarely faced Ed.

Ed felt a cold chill creep down his spine and sweat began to leak down his scalp. “Sir… I don’t —"

“— The Martial Arts Department… they’re acting up again.”

Ed almost collapsed from relief, he thought some of his plans had been exposed, he almost fainted. But McCarthy’s next sentence sent fresh shivers into his body.

“I think I need to kill the department head.”

“Sir you can’t ­—”

“I am the Chancellor, I can do whatever I want.”

Ed tried again, “Sir think, you need to have compassion be more neutral.”

“You dare question me? You don’t have that right!

“Sir, you can’t make the same mistakes you did with Da Shan you can’t — "

McCarthy whirled around and shouted, “I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!”

The words seemed to come to life, manifesting in the air. A funnel of wind screamed towards Ed with alarming speed. That’s lethal! Ed’s mind screamed in panic. Time seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace as Ed’s eyes went wide and he conjured a psychic barrier to block the funnel of wind. The wind crashed into the ghostly wall with an almost solid thud. The invisible barrier rippled and contorted as if an invisible fist was pushing against a rubber wall. Then it burst. Ed flew back, his golden necklace negating some of the damage from the blow. But his body crashed into the door shattering the wood and tumbling out into the hall. Students and teachers screamed at the sight of Ed’s battered body — massive wooden splinters protruding from his back.

Ed writhed in pain on the ground, the impact had shredded his black leather jacket and his blood had stained the floor. He coughed up even more blood. Ed looked up as he heard McCarthy’s footsteps approaching — terror nestled within. He closed his eyes and tried to shrink back, but the pain was too intense. He opened his eyes in shock when McCarthy’s hands gently pulled him to his feet. Then he saw it. As McCarthy’s hands were lifting him from the ground, he saw it. McCarthy was missing the pinky finger on his right hand and the ring finger on his left was gone. He was missing two fingers.

Bloodied and bruised Ed croaked out, “What happened sir?”

McCarthy’s face contorted with annoyance, his eyes flashed to the missing digits on his hands as he helped Ed stand. McCarthy mumbled something of an apology and handed Ed a high-grade healing pill. Ed almost too stunned at McCarthy’s mutilation and compassion uttered an equally mumbled thanks and popped the pill. The sensation of regrowing flesh and the light itch that followed was a both pleasant and unpleasant feeling. McCarthy looked the black man up and down and produced a black leather jacket — that looked identical to his shredded one — from his pocket and handed it to the old Psyker.

“Ed.”

“Yes sir.”

“I didn’t mean to lose my temper…” McCarthy subconsciously stared at the places where his fingers used to be. “After I left your house… I…” McCarthy trailed off as he realized they were standing out in a hallway and shocked teachers and students gawking at them. McCarthy’s face turned a light red an he awkwardly nudged Ed.

“What?!”

McCarthy grunted, “Say something… you’re making me look bad.”

Ed screamed in his mind. YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!!! He took a deep breath. Rubbed his bald head and then his expression brightened. “Ha! Haha! Hahaha!” The laughter grew louder and longer. Soon Ed was slapping his knees and crying tears. The onlookers appeared disturbed. Ed opened his eyes and spotted a freckle-faced boy with red hair, they made eye contact. Ed concentrated and a glazed look passed over the boy’s face and he began taking slow steps towards them. Ed wiped a tear from his eye for dramatic effect and bellowed out one last laugh.

“Wow boss!” Ed clapped McCarthy on the back. McCarthy’s face made a very irate expression at being called… “Boss”. But Ed ignored him and ploughed on, “You really did warn me that I would fly through the door if I took a hit from you! Man, this practise spar was the best decision ever, I’ve learned so much from you!”

Taking a cue, McCarthy nodded solemnly. “Yes, well… I warned you.”

“Yes, you did and I told you!”

“Yes, you did… What did you tell me?”

“That I wouldn’t break a single bone! You owe me 1000 spirit stones — as per our agreement!”

McCarthy’s face flushed and alternated between shades of red and purple. The students and teachers however had gathered around and were starting to ask questions. Ed grinned salaciously.

“Mr. Edmund, what were you and McCarthy doing here?” The young freckled boy with green eyes looked with adoration at Ed’s boney figure, the glazed look still plastered on his face.

“Oh ho ho! Well, you see… As a Psyker, it’s sometimes hard to take attacks from cultivators (and vice versa)! McCarthy was just giving me some pointers. Then, we were having so much fun — because we’re such close friends and good brothers — that I dared him to hit me with just 0.5% of his power!” At this point Ed paused for a breath and gestured expansively, “Because… McCarthy is the strongest in the school after all!”

The students and teachers nodded sagely and freckle-faced boy’s eyes grew wider with each word. His adoration for Ed and McCarthy seemingly swelling up like a balloon. Ed smiled at them and continued, his eyes carefully locking with everyone’s eyes.

“He told me if I could take 0.5% of his power without having a bone broken, I would get a full 1000 spirit stones!”

“Golly gee! That’s such a hot deal!” The freckled-faced boy gleamed with eagerness.

Ed nodded solemnly, “Well I couldn’t back down, and McCarthy had promised to heal me if I got hurt — because there’s no one more stand up and peaceable and fun-loving than our Chancellor!” Ed winked at the freckle-faced boy and popped a mental suggestion in his mind.

“Gosh darn it, ain’t that the truth! I remember reading how Mr. McCarthy once cured an entire village because he couldn’t rest without doing a good deed for the day!” The freckle-faced boy turned and faced McCarthy with a look of obsession.

McCarthy looked ill.

“That’s right little Timmy! Don’t you know it! Anyways, our McCarthy being a stand-up guy and all, blasted me through that door and fixed me up right away! Look he even gave me a jacket!” Ed lifted his jacket to show his newly knit together flesh, “See, he fixed me up all good!”

“Ooooooo!” The crowed gushed in unison — the glazed look had spread to everyone in the group. The crowd hummed with unnatural jubilation.

“What a great guy!!! I’m sure a guy like him would just end up giving me 5000 stones instead of 1000 — because that’s just how generous he is!” Ed’s grin took a malicious turn as he proffered his hand to the unfortunate Chancellor.

A series of “Oh yes!” and “How true!” and the occasional “Indeed!” rippled through the people as they transfixed their gazes on the Chancellor. McCarthy looked truly and positively sick. He wordlessly and lifelessly placed a clinking bag in Ed’s extended hand.

Everyone in the crowd cheered and Ed laughed heartily. Ed swept a meaningful gaze over the group and exclaimed, “Now be sure to tell the whole truth — and nothing but the truth — to all your friends! Only Joseph McCarthy can keep us safe! He’s the strongest!”

The crowd nodded in agreement and dispersed in a bizarre fashion. Ed almost tottered over from the mental exertion, he steadied himself and popped a few Psychosis Pills to ensure he wouldn’t run too low. His hands slipped across his bald head as he rubbed it in agitation. He was drenched in sweat. But let McCarthy be unhappy with that dammit! Ed grinned, wiped his brow and extended the bag of spirit stones back to McCarthy.

McCarthy looked at him — a hint of disgust on his face — then turned and walked back into his office, a blanket floated up from inside the office and blocked the doorway. Then some wooden splinters were flung into the blanket, pegging it into place. McCarthy did not take the bag.

Ed looked after his boss with confusion. “Hey boss!”

“Do. Not. Call. Me. That. Ever.”

“Yes Chancellor!”

“It’s ‘sir’ not Chanc —” McCarthy’s voice trailed off and the sound of him huffing could be heard from behind the sheet.

Ed smiled, “Glad to know you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks.” The word was quiet, almost too quiet for Ed to hear.

“What was that?” Ed prodded.

“Keep the bag, come in here after dusting off a bit.”

Ed grinned, levitated some splinters and dirt from his pants and walked through the sheet and threw up a barrier behind him to stop potential listeners from eavesdropping their conversation. Ed found McCarthy sitting on his chair, behind a pile of wooden rubble, sitting thoughtfully, his hands steepled as he pondered.

Ed pulled up a couch from the corner of the room and sat in front of his boss and waited. Ed reached into his mind, double checking Jannes’ elusive presence. The veteran Psyker’s presence pulsated lightly in his mind, as if eager for the conversation. After all, it’s not everyday you hear someone else is trying to take out one of the most powerful men in the world. After a few moments, McCarthy spoke.

“Ed… I didn’t mean to break my door or desk.”

Eh… there’s something wrong with this confession. Ed poked McCarthy a bit. “…What about me?”

“I am very sorry about ruining your jacket… it was a nice jacket.”

“… What about my body?”

“… What about it?”

“… Never mind.”

“A wise decision.”

Ed sighed. You can’t win ‘em all. Ed switched gears, “So Chancellor, what were you talking about… that bit about a purge?” Ed nervously glanced at the two absent fingers from McCarthy’s hands.

McCarthy’s thoughtful gaze hardened, then relaxed. “One of the Martial Arts Department Head’s assistants — Shilo Tavrin — tried to kill me. I drew and quartered him with my own hands… but he was good.” McCarthy lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers, “I’ve grown arrogant… a young sop shouldn’t have come close to killing me.”

“Wait? It was an assassination attempt?!”

McCarthy nodded.

Ed sucked in a deep breath, “Light untold.” Ed rubbed his head furiously and leaned back in his chair, mumbling over and over again, “Light untold…”

McCarthy reached into his pocket, his hand steady, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck it in his mouth. He glanced at Ed. Ed was having a hard time processing the news. McCarthy casually said, “Ed, I can’t prove it was Mel… But I know it was Mel. I’m going to kill him.”

Ed was shocked. This was big, another war within the Sect of Sagacity was brewing. Communists were everywhere… Ed double-checked Elder Quan’s oil-like presence in his mind. This was juicy stuff, Quan would have to give him a big payout. Ed just needed to faithfully play the role of a loyal subordinate.

As the smell of tobacco filled the room Ed sighed, “You have a bad history with the name ‘Mel’… first Melacandor and his wizards and if that ain’t enough we got Melankomas and his jarheads. Dammit! McCarthy are you sure?! Maybe Shilo was working alone —”

“Like an assistant would move without his master’s instructions,” McCarthy flippantly replied.

“But sir, we’re talking about a massive conspiracy here… they’re out to git you! I don’t think there’s an assassin in the world willing to go toe to toe with Mel.”

“Is that so?” McCarthy puffed contentedly on his cigarette, gripping it with the space left by his absent ring finger. He rolled it around thoughtfully. “Elderweiss could do it.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea… Why don’t you do it?”

“Shut up Ed. I can’t reveal my strength just yet… besides… we can’t just assassinate Mel. That’s not my plan. We kill him, but we need to get him to show his hand. If Elderweiss can fight him, I can exterminate all his followers.” McCarthy breathed deep and tapped the ash from his cigarette onto the broken remains of his desk. “The problem is we’ve got this thing with Elder Quan brewing as well.

This is my chance! I can get Jannes out of the crosshairs. Ed rubbed his bald head again. Leaned back. Leaned forward. Leaned back. Leaned forward, “This is a bad idea sir.” He finally said, beginning slowly and allowing worry to creep in his eyes. “We’ve been planning this sting operation on Elder Quan for the past few years… waging war on two fronts is a bad idea.”

McCarthy steepled his fingers thoughtfully, “What do you suggest?”

Ed tugged his leather jacket closer to his body and absently twisted one of his golden rings. “It’s a real bad idea to fight two enemies at once. I think we should pick one or the other… if Mel really is behind this… I think we should switch targets. Leave Quan alone and go for Mel.”

“Prick off.”

“… Sir?”

“I said prick off.”

“Don’t be so hostile sir…”

McCarthy sat up straight and flicked the bud of his cigarette away, pulled out another and lit it. “I said…” He paused to inhale deeply. “Prick. Off.”

Ed raised an eyebrow, his tone uncertain, “What?”

“You’ve turned on me haven’t you?”

Ed felt his body go cold. Crap! This isn’t good! He rolled his Psychosis to make sure that Elder Quan’s Psychic presence was hidden within his mind. But it didn’t calm his nerves. McCarthy stared at him like a wounded viper on the verge of striking. Sweat trickled down Ed’s back, “W — w — what?” He managed.

“You’ve turned on me, you’re helping that damn Jannes Quan… you’re a double agent aren’t you?” The cigarette drained at an unnatural speed and within seconds was already down to the bud. McCarthy pulled out another. His hands shaky and eyes growing red.

“Sir, that’s uh… that’s ridiculous…” Ed’s pores worked overtime, covering his body with salt and grime. “You have no proof! Why are you saying this?!”

“Then why are you against me attacking Quan? Huh?! You don’t think I can do it? You don’t think I’m strong enough?” McCarthy was almost shouting, his voice erratic and unstable.

Ed tried to calm him down, “No! Of course, of course you’re strong enough!”

But McCarthy wasn’t buying it, “Don’t play coy with me, we’re a week away from assassinating Quan and you want me to pull out and focus on Mel?! When I don’t even know the scope of his operation… please! Either you’re on Quan’s side or you’re on Quan’s side!” McCarthy shook his finger at Ed. The old man backed away and raised his hands in defense.

Ed reached in his mind for a retort, but not finding anything clever, lamely said, “Or I just genuinely think that this is a bad idea!”

“DAMN PSYCKER!” The shout staggered Ed. He felt like his mind almost burst, a sharp pain shot up his cranium. Ed could swear he felt the “gem” wiggle in his brain. Blood poured from his nostrils and the boney man let out sporadic shallow breaths. Ed almost tottered off the couch he was sitting on. Blood began to pool at his feet. Ed felt his face drain. What the prick?! What the prick??!!! I can’t feel him at all! Ed panicked, Elder Quan had been knocked out of his mind, somehow. When did a Wind Cultivator have this kind of power? Light untold… I pray he didn’t do that on purpose.

McCarthy was unaware of Ed’s thoughts, but the usual regret he showed after an empowered shout was gone. McCarthy’s gaze was just as fiery and intense as before. This shout wasn’t an accident of temper. It was a disciplining whip. McCarthy’s tone turned to a low threatening growl, “Get out… get out of here before I kill you. I need to think. Think about whether I’ll trust you or not.” Then a tinge of concern — sharply contrasting with the harshness of his voice, “There’s someone at your house… they don’t seem friendly.”

“Prick.” Ed wobbled to his feet up and stumbled out the door.

McCarthy watched as Ed bumbled out the door and made his way to his house. He leaned back and lit the cigarette he had pulled out. He leaned forward and steepled his hands. “Dammit… why’s he back already? What in bloody Mary’s name is he doing at Ed’s house… when did he get back?” McCarthy sucked on his cigarette sharply, coughing as he took in a lungful of smoke faster than he was ready for. He shouted.

“Matilda!”

The air around McCarthy stirred, bending and twisting. It started out a small tornado, which then grew arms, legs and head. Soon a ghostly and windy form had appeared in front of McCarthy, it resembled a young woman. The shape cocked its head to one side and waited for McCarthy to stop coughing, “I have enemies within!” He managed between gasps, “I need you to figure out who. Go to Ed’s house and listen to him at all times! At all times! Do you hear me Matilda?!”

Matilda nodded, non-reactive to McCarthy’s unstable behaviour. Then she vanished.

McCarthy stood and started to frantically pace around the room, “He’s back… he’s visiting Ed first and not me? Hmmm… Does he want to join Ed in a little scheme of rebellion?! Yes that’s what’s happening! Damn traitors!!! The lot of them!” McCarthy kicked his desk’s debris and sent wood flying across the room. His pant leg tore at the point of impact. But McCarthy didn’t notice.

The cigarette fell from his mouth. He pulled another one out, hands even shakier than before, “I’m being betrayed…” He whispered to himself softly. Slowly, he lit the cigarette and puffed, his movements spasmatic. He almost collapsed into the sofa chair where Ed had been sitting. He leaned back, he leaned forward. He leaned back, he leaned forward. He cursed. He got up and paced again. Then sat down. His eyes focused and he stared at the window in the back of his office. He looked at the birds, the leaves and the sunlight. Trying to let the light of nature penetrate his darkness, but the gloom would not lift. He whispered again to himself, “I’m being betrayed.”

The room went dark. The air shook and trembled as if being ripped from the very fabric of time and space. The orange glow of his cigarette extinguished. His breathing became soundless as his chest rose and fell.

“The most abominable of all crimes…”

The blackened room seemed to scream into the void, invisible and soundless whistles howling around the man at the center of it all. The world creaked and groaned as if it was going to break.

“Being a traitor to the people — no to the person — who gave you trust.”

All reality seemed to bend around the school Principal, the flesh on his hands wiggled and squirmed — like large worms were slithering under his skin. Soon bones broke through skin where his two fingers used to be. Flesh creeped up the joints and tendons contracted, soon two brand new fingers had filled the places erasing the injury completely. But McCarthy had entered a trancelike state, he was deep in thought, he didn’t notice the new fingers or the threads of reality twisting around his raw power. The might of an Admiral Rank…

“I need to sweep away this sorry mess of twisted and warped thinkers… I need to start over. Start fresh. Damn communists… the lot of them.”

Then as quickly as it had come, the strange phenomena stopped. Vanished. As if nothing had happened. The sun was shining in the office again and McCarthy’s cigarette was once more alight. McCarthy looked down to his steepled fingers and cursed.

“Dammit! I didn’t mean to regrow them yet… Prick me! This will give away my power.” He looked at his hands, irritation evident in his voice. “Good bye old friends, for now.”

Two wind blades manifested and lopped off the ring finger on his left hand and the middle finger on his right hand. The flow of blood was quickly stopped by another wind, and the wounds rapidly began to heal. McCarthy looked at his two bleeding fingers on the ground intently. The space around them distorted, steam started to rise from the fingers, then they combusted into a pile of ash. With a wave of his hand a light wind carried the ash out of his office to a place unknown. With a sigh he looked at his two hands. He stared at the places where his fingers once were. Then cursed. He mumbled under his breath.

“Dammit… I forget if these were the fingers.”