A. Break through the door and take the boss by surprise.

B. Don a disguise and assassinate the boss.

C. ...leave?

The possible options swirl in my head and leave me paralyzed in front of the boss's door. Behind that thick piece of wood, I have the possibility of putting an end to the Ismar Trading Co. There are so many ways I can do this, and they all have their consequences. What's the safest method? Which one gets me the best reward? Will I sleep with Jo-Ri or Alarice Crusoe? All valid questions.

(just do it already!) Now isn't the time to be impatient! (but breaking into a casino was? or taking an adolescent boy into the dream realm? you are impatience, little god) What...what did you just say? (...) Little...little god? Oh hell. I'm not going crazy, I'm poss-

The door swings open and nearly smacks me in the face.

"Oh I'm sorry!" a small man in a tidy suit apologizes. He freezes when he sees the blood on my clothes, and the weapon tucked through my belt. "Intru-" he begins to shout before I cover his mouth. But it's already too late.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" I hiss and yank my hand away. The little bastard bit me. I kick him hard in the groin, dropping him into a low crouch. I grab him by his greasy hair and slam his head against the doorframe. He crumples and I step over his body, flicking imaginary lint off my shoulder. I guess this is how we're doing it.

(devour him) I shake my head and try to focus on the room in front of me, but my vision swims out of focus. (taste his flesh and grow in power) Shut up! (consume and ki-) I rub my temples furiously and try to block out the voice in my head. Searing needles of pain splinter apart though my neck and the base of my skull. I gasp out and drop onto my hands and knees. Something clicks underneath my palm; oh hell.

I scramble to my feet, but a blinding burst of venomous pain slams into the front of my skull. It feels like rage has taken physical form, and is trying to split me apart by the seams. I cry out and stumble. There's a flash of heat behind me, and I'm tossed like a ragdoll against a wall. I slam into it, my ears ringing. Blood wells up in my mouth and trickles down my nose. Dark boots enter my field of vision. My bones refuse to budge.

"Can he...just great...sure." A low voice slurs in and out of my conscious, occasionally peeking past the ringing in my ears. Something hard slams into my side, and my lungs threaten to collapse. I roll onto my back and blink several times. Glowing walls of magical sigils encompass me in a circle, and I can feel the energy on my bruised skin.

From across the room, I spot a hairy man behind a thick wall of glass and metal, glowing with runes. Different spikes, pendulums, trapdoors, and various sharp implements litter the room. Shock pads and fire-spitters adorn the walls and floor. I even catch a glimpse of a few purple tentacles slipping out of sight. What is it with this city and tentacles?

"What?...Wrong idea..." I gasp out past the fiery razors of pain that scrape against my throat with every word. The ringing in my ears has subsided to a tolerable level, but the spasms and blistering agony blooming across my entire being has not. Unfortunately.

"It worked!" the hairy man shouts with glee. He rubbed his hands together with wild eyes. "It actually worked. I told them I wasn't going to end up like Corval. But none of them believed me! Well that will show them," he exclaims. He runs a hand through hair that's as black as my heart; a stark contrast to his pristine suit. Why don't you step on the other side of that blast shield and we'll see how clean your suit stays, pal.

(yes, rip him asunder. consume and annihilate!) My hands instinctively clench, and I force breath out in ragged gasps. Every part of me screams to follow my instincts and obey, but I can't. I can't. What will I become if I do? (stronger. better.) Psychotic. Murderous. (free) Trapped.

"So my job's done now, right?" It's difficult to see the new speaker from my position. I strain, and amidst the inferno of torment that ensues, manage to shift myself slightly.

"The job's not done until I say so, Ms. Piper," the man retorts sharply. "I will not have some lowlife tarnish my reputation," he says with an accusatory glare at me. The newcomer, Ms. Piper, crosses her arms. She rolls her eyes and blows a strand of sunburst orange hair out of her face.

"Whatever you say, Dickweed," she mutters. One of her hands drops to a flute by her side, tucked into a dark leather belt.

"It's Dickwed," the man corrects, pronouncing the "w" as a "v", and the "e" as a "u".

"Not much better," Piper says. Despite myself, I smirk.

"Ex...actly," I pant. Dickwed frowns and straightens his bowtie.

"Summon the security golems and search the building. There are bound to be others," he orders. Piper throws up a sloppy salute, and turns to leave, her chlorophyll green vest catching the light of the shock pads.

"No need," Esilea rumbles from the doorway, just as an arrow flies toward my captors.

A concussive wave of sound reminiscent of drums being viciously torn apart blasts out from Piper's hands. The force shreds the arrow nearly into dust as several security golems roll out from various secret entrances. Seven hells, how prepared was this guy?

"You're lucky we evacuated everyone early," Icarus whispers from beside me. I jump, which turns out to be a bad move on my part, as all of my bones try and slam into each other at once. "Otherwise who knows what they would've done to you?"

"I had it handled," I protest, turning my body inch by agonizing inch to face the young inventor. He wipes sweat from his brow and begins taking various bottles and devices out of Esilea's satchel.

"I hate magic," he grumbles. A small puff of sparks flies up from one of the vials. Fortunately, there's no hair on him to burn off.

"Alert the board at once!" Dickwed screams into a small gem on his lapel. "Alert everyone! We have intruders!" He turns his frantic gaze to the battle before him.

Esilea and Piper are trying to play "tag, you're dead" at nearly inhuman speeds. Actually, make that definitely inhuman speeds. Arrows, javelins, and even the occasional sword are all deflected or broken by concussive sound waves that threaten to ruin my hearing. Again.

However, Piper can't land a solid hit on the experienced Amazonian warrior, as she deftly dodges and makes expert use of her shield. One screeching wave of sound tears up the floor in front of Esilea, who leaps and pirouettes in mid-air over the tidal wave of wooden shrapnel.

She's finally close enough to land a hit, and slams her buckler against the mage. No, that's not right. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut-Piper is a Muse, fighting with sound. Goddam. God. Damn.

One of the walls suddenly catches fire, and a security golem lets out a series of metallic screeches and collapses on the floor. The Wyvern's whip snakes out from the ceiling and coils around another unfortunate mechanical adversary. Thank the gods for good timing.

"Almost got it..." Icarus mumbles, sprinkling powder along the magical seals while casting furtive glances at the battle. He and Dickwed seem to have the same idea: it's time to go.

"Hey, Icarus?" I ask as I take my eyes off the battle. Not that several women fighting to the death isn't entertaining or anything. But looking past the invasive demon tormenting my body, and immense pain coiling along every cell, a small detail peeks it's head through.

"What?" He doesn't take his eyes off a particularly chilly looking purple flask.

"When are the explosives supposed to go off?" I inquire, trying to quell the rising tide of panic in my chest.

"6:30. I set them at 5:43; we have almost an hour," he says and shows me a pocket-watch he pulls from Esilea's eternal handbag.

"Mhm, great," I say. The panic has fully infected my voice. "Except that it's 5:29 right now."

Icarus finally looks up. "That's not possible!" he says and checks the watch again, almost letting a bubbling vial fall off his lap.

"Did you account for the time zone?" He goes deadly quiet. Metal clashes against metal behind us, torrents of sound and chaos tearing the room apart. A destructive symphony, and we're about to experience the crescendo.

I raise my voice over the cacophony of violence. "You idiot!" I shout while Icarus quickly begins stoppering potions and shoving them back into the satchel. "You have to account for the time z-" BOOM!