Night had fallen by the time Gunnar left the Nighthawk compound. He spent some time grinding in a training gym similar to one of Sykes’s, where he worked through a Stealth maze filled with enchanted trip wires and mechanical guards that jumped out from behind corners. The newer cloak paid off in spades, making it much easier to slink back into shadows to avoid detection.

He spent some time practicing his throwing blades and lock picking, and by the time he was done, he’d advanced both skills along with Stealth. Though even for high development-rated skills like these, it was still slow going in a non-quest environment. But if all went well with the Mermaid’s Heist, he would be sitting much better by the time they set sail for Mavenport.

Considering there was a bounty on his head—even if the AI wanted him to be absolutely clear it was small—Gunnar decided to avoid spending too much time in the streets, and instead made for his old respawn point. He’d since placed it at the crypt entrance outside the city, but if his morning training was any indication, it remained a good secluded spot despite its central location.

He ascended the narrow ladder to the rooftop where he’d completed his first quest in this city. It had only been a few days, and yet, it felt like months since he’d been such a naive dumbass.

Taking a seat in the lotus position, he looked out over the city, listening to the soft buzz of nightlife which ebbed and flowed on the air.

Gunnar was about to practice some of his spells when he noticed a flying shadow approaching the rooftop.

Now, Azmar is just getting lazy, he thought as the shadow grew larger.

But there was something off about the creature’s movements.

Azmar’s flight was usually jerky, consisting of really hard flaps on leathery wings, as though he were still evolving into an avian ability that did not quite match his body. But this shadow soared against the overcast sky with graceful ease.

Gunnar stood as it became apparent that, whatever this creature was, it was flying directly toward his rooftop. Its golden-tinged wings and pale body flashed against the gloom of the city. Scan revealed nothing about the creature, but Gunnar was pretty sure he knew what it was.

The cherub he had seen back when he’d first created his character had been a male, and there was zero doubt about the femininity of this creature, even from a distance. She banked, her wingspan casting a shadow upon the clouds above, then descended, drawing back her wings and landing on the stone roof in front of him.

Her skin was a shimmering silver, as though coated in glittery makeup, though Gunnar was fairly certain that was her natural tone. Her clothes were the sort of ridiculous Gunnar had grown accustomed to in past games—thigh high leather boots, a black miniskirt, and a scarlet halter top with a deep neckline. All her clothes glistened with a strange immateriality that immediately stood out as unnatural for this world. Celestial, some horny developer would probably claim.

Though at least she wasn’t going into battle dressed like this, Gunnar supposed.

The cherub drew her wings in a crescent in front of her and crossed her humanoid arms over her chest, gazing down at him from a height of at least eight feet.

“I know who you are, Gunnar Ashwood,” she said with a melodic voice that floated on the air. “And I know what you’ve done.”

The creature bore no weapon that Gunnar could tell, but his right hand hovered at the hilt of his Nightblade all the same. He had a bad feeling about this. Even if he’d only heard cherubs referenced in association with the Temple of Luka, this creature was clearly powerful.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Well, I don’t like talking with people I don’t know.”

“I am Chanelle Etua, a high cherub of the sky city of Linaea.”

This sky city intrigued him, but he didn’t buy for a minute that she’d come that far.

“And why exactly would a temple maiden be concerned about one of Sykes’ enemies?”

“I am familiar with no Sykes. But Luka is the true lord of this city. Why wouldn’t he be concerned with a promising young recruit?”

So she is one of Luka’s.

“Because I don’t serve Luka,” Gunnar said obstinately.

“Few do when they first enter this realm,” Chanelle said serenely. “To serve an Elysian god is a high honor.”

“Are you suggesting people can change the gods they serve?”

The cherub smiled. “I am suggesting that you could and should change the god you serve, if given the opportunity. Assuming you hope to properly ascend.”

Gunnar was intrigued once again, but tried not to show it. Neither Nymoria nor Azmar had mentioned anything about this aspect of the game—a fact he would surely hold over them, even if it made sense from their standpoint. It also meant that he’d caught the attention of other investors in Pantheon, which seemed especially important.

He shrugged. “Luka’s been watching me, has he?”

Chanelle’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed. “Your false arrogance will not work on me. My Perception is far higher than yours. Level 25 in Glory brings new opportunities, if you’ve proven yourself properly. You’ve allied yourself with Luka’s enemies for a time, which makes sense along your present path. But there may be opportunities, should you be wise enough to seize them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gunnar said lackadaisically.

“We will be watching you, Gunnar Ashwood.”

With that, the cherub extended her wings, strode swiftly toward the edge of the roof, and took flight.

Even in the dreary overcast darkness, the massive spires of Luka’s temple towered over everything. And Gunnar watched as the beautiful creature slowly diminished as she returned to her master.

When she was gone, he returned to his seated position on the rooftop.

Gunnar was flummoxed by the encounter. On the one hand, he was Nymoria’s champion, and his real world future appeared to be tied to his ascension in-game as her servant. But what more opportunities might be in store if he were to serve a greater god, and a presumably more wealthy and influential person IRL? Was it possible that Nymoria was actually holding him back?

Defy the gods…

Lex’s last words returned to him as he contemplated his next moves. What else might she have said before she was killed?

Had she meant that he should defy the Elysian gods, like Luka?

Or the gods altogether?

For the time being, at least, his advancement literally depended on pleasing Nymoria, so that didn’t make much sense.

But there did seem to be a similar cutthroat competition between players as well as gods. And this encounter with the cherub only confirmed that.

Gunnar was suddenly stricken with a memory from his entrance into the realms of Pantheon, when he’d seen the option of becoming a god himself.

If that was truly a possibility—and not just the typical taunting of the game—perhaps he would not always be locked into serving the gods at all. Maybe that was what Lex meant.

For now, all he could conclude was that he needed to ascend, and he should definitely not trust the gods.

Though he’d always suspected that much.

“Meditation works better with your eyes closed, I think.”

Gunnar jumped at the voice, even though he immediately knew who it was.

Em grinned as she peeked her head up from the top of the ladder. Almost directly in front of him, and he hadn’t even noticed.

“Not meditating, just thinking,” Gunnar said, rising to his feet.

“Well, that’s nice for a change. Let’s get going.”

Em led the way back down the ladder, and they stopped together in a narrow side street. A group of kobolds eyed them from a barrel fire a short ways off.

“You sure you’re all right?” Em asked.

“Yeah, fine.”

“You’re still thinking.”

Gunnar met her gaze in the low flickering light from the barrel.

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“All right, which god do you serve?” he asked.

“Ariadne,” Em said. “And she’s a goddess. Why?”

“What kind of contact have you had with her?”

“Contact? None. I mean she’s got one of those messengers like they all have.”

“Yeah? What sort of messenger?”

“Some sort of nature spirit. Like a nymph sort of thing. She kind of flits in and out of existence. Shows up out of nowhere, always trying to startle me.”

Gunnar nodded. “Sounds a lot like mine.”

And he suspected the cherub served a similar role for Luka, though Chanelle was a hell of a lot more appealing than Azmar, that was for sure.

“That’s what’s bothering you?” Em came close and nudged him in the shoulder. “We’ve got a quest to worry about.”

“You’re right. Just contemplating my path, you know? Long term.”

“The Nighthawks are the right path,” Em said. “For right now.”

“Well, that’s what I was pondering. It’s all a waiting game in this place.”

Em glowered at him. “Don’t you dare betray me, Gunnar.”

“Er, whoa, that’s not what I was thinking about.”

She drew nearer, grabbing his hand. “Good. I just want to make sure we’re clear.”

“Okay.”

Em drew very close, now, so that he could feel the warmth of her body in the cool night. “I’ve been wondering something too.”

Gunnar’s heartbeat quickened at her nearness. “Something from the party as I recall.”

“But… we’ve got a quest, I suppose.”

She leaned back, but Gunnar slipped his hand around her waist, and they both froze.

“Before the quest,” Gunnar said, “it’s probably best we both ease what’s on our minds.”

“It’d be a shame to get distracted later.”

Em grinned in the low light and slipped her hand into his hood, her fingers clasping behind his neck and pulled him closer.