Following the two associates of the White Mask assassin wasn’t a walk in the park.

They walked in circles. Sometimes they stopped without a clear goal, only to resume their walk without a warning. Keynes made Alice stay close to them as he feared they might be suspecting of being followed. It put him on edge. Keynes had changed his clothes four times and always stayed far behind. Alice ensured him that both of the people they were following were Level 1 and on the lowest spiritual stage.

Eventually, the pair stopped by a bar, Keynes slowed down two hundred metres from them – the very maximum his bond with Alice would allow.

Did they figure him out and waited to see what he was going to do? As he was about to pass them by, the bar’s door opened and a man called the pair inside. Keynes squinted at him – bulky, moustachioed with pattern tattoos on thick arms.

He was Level 2, not yet in the Medium stage but no longer at the very bottom.

Is the White Hall here? Keynes asked himself and it almost broke his stride when he realised this could be it.

Keynes went on for another twenty metres, when curiosity took a better of him and he turned around, growing confident about his stupid plan.

The door to the bar was open. The main room was poorly lit. It smelled of smoke and spirits and was very quiet for it had many tables empty. Only three people sat on stools by the bar. The pair and the sturdy man who had invited them.

In a doorway behind the bar appeared a blond-haired bartender, his eyes instantly fixed on Keynes. He was young but he also happened to be Level 5 with an unknown spirit stage.

That put Keynes on alert and he made his annoyance known to Alice. She should have warned him about the presence of a Level 5.

“What can I do for you?” the bartender asked.

Keynes exhaled, keeping his emotions in check. The bartender didn’t show any hostility toward him but he couldn’t be a mere bartender. Whoever he was, he had to be connected to the White Masks.

“Something to drink,” Keynes replied lamely.

Only then the pair turned to have a look at him. There was no recognition in their eyes.

The bartender placed his hand on the tab and asked the trio to go somewhere else. They did so without a word of complaint.

Follow them, Keynes said to Alice. And listen to their conversation.

The bartender placed a glass with a clear, green-hued liquid on the bar before Keynes.

“What is it?” Keynes asked.

“You asked for something to drink. Something to drink it is,” the bartender said, his face devoid of amusement Keynes expected to see. “Ten dollars.”

Keynes paid then took the glass in his hand and his eyes widened.

Greenberry Whisky (Common)

-

Level 1

“A Level 1 drink?”

It was similar to the Lesser Alcoholic Beverage in Scotland.

The bartender wasn’t surprised by Keynes’s exclamation but his eyes tracked Keynes’s every move.

Should I somehow mention the White Masks?

It seemed like a recruiting or meeting point for the White Masks. Keynes was certain of it. He tasted the drink, finding it pleasant… until it hit his throat!

That thing was nasty!

Master, they are on the move!

Thank god!

Keynes thanked for the drink and left. No one tried to stop him. Outside, the icy air filled his lungs once more, making him forget the hideous drink.

Lead me to them.

***

Why they moved on foot, Keynes couldn’t begin to guess but it worked to his advantage.

Geneva was a massive city and yet they walked. They walked until evening descended and the streets filled with faraway shouts and screams and sirens.

They were close to one of the districts plagued by riots. Keynes swapped his clothes for the Cloak of Shadows, immediately becoming harder to see in the deepening shadows between the cones of light, originating from the street lamps.

Eventually, they reached a low gate at the foot of the mountain. The gate was flanked by dark bushes that hid whatever fence was there.

Buildings on the adjacent street were all two-storey offices or some obscure shops. It was the edge of Geneva discounting the towering shapes of the buildings far above on the mountain’s slopes. He realised that he was on the other side of the city. He was so focused on following the trio and not getting caught himself that he lost track of where exactly he was.

Keynes watched the tattooed man unlock the gate, push it ajar, let the pair from the assassin’s apartment in and then lock it back.

Why didn’t they use a car? Keynes thought, realising slowly that it might be a trap.

He called Alice back and asked her to circle the vicinity and check on potential enemies. Keynes wasn’t going to be amused if he was the one followed here too.

Alice assured him that there was no one suspicious, only some workers in their workshops working dutifully on things she didn’t understand.

Calmed down, Keynes asked her to check on the trio. There was still a risk they’d try to set a trap ahead for him.

After a few painfully long minutes, Alice returned. The trio had gone up the road that led to who knew where.

Moving from shadow to shadow, Keynes came to the gate and unlocked it with ease. It barely drew on his mana.

The road was well maintained and lit only by dim yellow lamps. It ran for a kilometre up the slope of the mountain to a plateau with several buildings and a yard lit by only slightly brighter light of lamp posts.

The buildings were made out of raw concrete, evoking thoughts of bunkers. As Keynes drew closer, he found a warning sign.

Nuclear Waste Depository

Unauthorised Entrance Strictly Forbidden

The sign made Keynes think twice. First time he understood the risk, the radioactive waste could even hurt a Level 5. It was dangerous stuff. Then he thought again and asked himself why the site wasn't properly secured. Where were its guards or alarms announcing his presence?

There were none.

It didn’t add up. Keynes asked Alice to check the buildings, while he approached the large gate made out of steel. It was cast within a concrete arch and indisputably led into the mountain.

Clear. Alice came back eventually.

Can you go and check what’s inside?

She levitated closer toward the door as if unsure, then started prodding its steel surface with her lithe semi-translucent hands.

I cannot get through.

It’s like the walls in Wagner’s house? Keynes asked.

No.

Keynes blinked, confused.

What do you mean?

Wagner used something organic in securing his house. Plants, Keynes realised. This gate has a layer of something that does not let me in. It is not a formation or runes.

Then what is it?

She almost answered ‘I do not know’ but she knew. There was understanding on her face now that hadn’t been there when Keynes had reached the Medium stage in the lookout.

I cannot say, she eventually replied.

This alone should make Keynes turn around and leave. The evening also transformed into an early night and no one back in Wagner’s house knew where Keynes had gone. That should definitely kick his brain and drag his ass out of here.

But there had been a time when Keynes would have never backed down from a challenge. His curiosity had always been like the sun, the brightest thing in the sky of his mind, brighter than his common sense.

It’d led him into trouble countless times. All these times had one thing in common, the louder his inner voice screamed to stop and leave it alone, the stronger pull to do it became.

If he had a different memory, he’d be able to say that he almost forgot the feeling but he’d the memory he had and he’d forgotten nothing.

His body blazed, tugged by two opposite desires.

Master?

He shook his head because he already knew his choice.

Am I being stupid?

With that fitting question, he approached the gate, found the lock and used his Talent on it.

He stumbled gasping, almost 90% of his mana devoured in that single act. Whatever the gate was made of, it had to be at least Level 2 material.

But most importantly, he unlocked the gate.

Ahead of him, a wide tunnel lit by a line of yellow light led straight into the viscera of the mountain.

***

The tunnel was wide enough for two cars to comfortably drive side by side and still leave space on each side for a person. It was high enough for a lorry to drive in the centre and not touch the arched ceiling.

Every two hundred metres Keynes passed a metal door. Emergency exits leading god knew where. None of them were made of the same spirit-resistant material as was the gate and Alice was able to do some quick exploration. Staircases led up and down into lesser tunnels, designed for pedestrians only. She found nothing of note there and Keynes lost interest in them, except as the means to his escape would the need arise.

No one came from the other side and Keynes grew confident in his decision to pursue the trio travelling to the White Hall – likely, the heart of the White Masks organisation.

Eventually, the tunnel ended with another gate. Keynes slowed down and kept to the wall. If the gate was made out of the same damned material, he’d need to wait almost a day until his mana regenerated. Mana always took a day to fully recover from 0% to 100%, universally, for anyone, despite Level.

Crap.

The gate was made out of the same material. But not all was lost. Not fifty metres from the gate was the emergency door. There was always a chance of some unexplained design flaw that connected whatever was behind the gate via another tunnel. The emergency tunnel sounded like a good candidate.

Keynes entered the emergency exit. Basing his guess on pure speculation, he chose to descend, hoping to find the correct tunnel there.

What surprised him—and sobered—was the lack of monitoring. It sobered him because he hadn’t thought of it until he entered the emergency tunnel. If the White Masks had monitoring in place, Keynes’s foolhardy mission would end in a failure.

The staircase descended two flights of stairs and ended with another door. Alice checked the other side and he opened it after she’d declared the emergency tunnel empty.

Was this place really a nuclear waste depository?

No. It wasn’t. It lacked the precautions and security.

The emergency tunnel was two metres wide, its walls hidden behind the plethora of pipes of many varieties and sizes. It aslo split into three directions.

Keynes picked the one that should lead toward the locked gate.

He was rewarded with another door, two hundred metres from where he’d entered the smaller tunnel. Back to the staircase, two flights of stairs up and to another door.

Behind it was a loading dock with an elevated concrete platform and four closed, folding doors. The loading dock was empty, even the signs that once decorated the walls were gone.

Keynes spied a normal door next to the loading platform. He once again marvelled at the fact that this place had no monitoring. A nuclear waste depository would have one.

The red door was unlocked to his surprise. It wasn’t an emergency exit. The door led to offices which were as empty as the loading dock. Even the carpets were removed from the floor.

On the other side of the offices, Keynes found yet another staircase. Once again, he chose to descend, believing that anything important had to be deeper.

There he found the plan of this place. It was a true labyrinth! Spaghetti of tunnels. One part of the plan was highlighted with red and multiple warnings were written on each side. It, indeed, was or had been a nuclear waste depository.

If the White Masks took over this place, it was in the red zone, Keynes would find them.

As he descended, Alice asked if he was sure about it. They were away for over a day without telling anyone but Keynes assured her that it was fine. His focus was completely absorbed by the White Masks.

He stopped only when the staircase ended with two doors on opposite sides. One door was marked with white paint.

Yes! I knew it.

He smiled but didn’t relax. He might need to fight out there.

Alice, check the other side.

After she returned and gave him all clear, he opened the door.

On the other side was a very large room, at least ten metres wide and twice as high. On the other end was a large gate. Next to it stood a forklift. The room was over a hundred metres long.

Master…

Keynes’s eyes followed Alice’s little finger. His jaw dropped as he saw what she was pointing at. A row of waist-high concrete obelisks with computer screens attached on top of them. Next to each shimmered a small ball of light in mid-air.

Rifts.

Their location was impossibly regular. It couldn’t be.

Keynes approached the first rift. The computer screen flickered to life, offering all the details of the rift next to it.

It was a Level 1 rare and variable rift. It even listed the monsters appearing in it, their likelihood and powers. And that wasn’t all! It even provided details of valuable resources in each scenario.

Below it, a chart broke down the amount of essence based on the number of people and their Levels.

At the top of the screen was the timer showing the time until the rift was recharged. Keynes thought back to Scotland and wondered how the government hadn’t had this.

Alice, how is this possible? Keynes asked, mesmerised.

It is. How, I cannot say.

He moved closer to the rift.

Rift (Rare)

Level

1

Status

Open (Ruptured)

Requirements

-

Modifiers

-

Details

This rift may contain rarer rift monsters. It has a higher chance to spawn a boss.

Affinity

-

Special Status

Relocated

The details were different from all other rifts Keynes had seen and that special status: relocated.

How was this possible?

He once more glanced to the side, taking in the other nine rifts, flickering in the regular intervals. Scottish Cluster city couldn’t even compare to this. Keynes checked on the other rifts and found them all to be rare and variable. One rift in Scotland was also variable. Monsters and the environment changed inside on a daily basis. It’d been a dangerous, unpredictable rift but one that granted more essence than a stable rift. Rarity also increased the amount of essence…

Keynes checked the essence chart and staggered. Each rarity doubled the amount of essence while the variable version increased the amount by another 50% setting the final amount of the essence at 6% per day for a Level 1 in a group no larger than four people.

Six freaking percent times ten.

Enough to level up four people in two days. But the chart held more info—

“Welcome to the White Hall,” a female voice spoke, interrupting Keynes his reading. He whirled, searching for its owner.

Alice!

I do not sense anyone.

A woman in a white mask stood on the catwalk above the gate, leaning on the railing. She looked relaxed and that made Keynes nervous.

He squinted at the exit and saw more White Mask assassins stream out of other doors, including the one he’d come through.

“We wonder what brings the killer of my loyal agent here?”

I knew it was a stupid idea.