“INFUNIT-24503e, justify recent courses of action.”

“Provide additional context for question.”

“Non-essential assassination of creator human target 'Yaavtey', entry into hazardous location for no mission benefit, retrieval of non-essential mission asset 'Koylzmeyl', non-essential termination of four additional creator human subjects attracting local law enforcement attention.”

“Asset 'Koylzmeyl' is misclassified, is mission essential. Creator human 'Yaavtey'’s termination was performed in order to gain local currency for procuring transport out of isolated area. Four creator human subjects presented aggressively and attempted to disarm unit.”

“Asset 'Koylzmeyl' is unreliable and provides no mission-critical support. Creator human 'Yaavtey''s local bounty likely cannot be collected, as per declaration by creator human designated 'Dawpvaol'. Local currency not required for transport to mainland. Reasoning for termination of four creator-human subjects known as 'Flowing Wings' accepted.”

“Currency is necessary for transport, unit does not carry sufficient firepower to procure transport by force. Creator human 'Koylzmeyl' is literate in local language and provides more efficient interface to local economic and social systems, thus facilitating this action.”

“Unit will state accepted mission duration.”

“Indefinite.”

“Unit will state approximate time required to produce sufficient weaponry to commandeer local water-faring vessel.”

“Unknown.”

“Assume vessel crewed by fifty local humans with average arms and armaments.”

“Unknown, terrain unknown, security of area unknown.”

“Assume dock structure consistent with warbreed dock structures, assume minimal security.”

“Approximately five hundred days, assuming local metals were suitable for firearm construction.”

“Unit will state if five hundred days is a greater duration than an indefinite period of time.”

“Statement is false.”

“Course of action deemed incorrect based on unit’s own assessment.”

“Local creator humans have anomalous regeneration ability, unknown if firearms would be effective weaponry.”

“Local creator humans have lost knowledge of firearm technology, thus granting tactical advantage which offsets reduced lethality.”

“...”

“Unit will provide alternate justification for course of action or change course of action to new recommendation.”

“They can take a fucking sword through their chest and be up and walking in minutes. You can't possibly be serious. These people would shrug off any bullet from any firearm I could make in this environment, short of a cannon.”

“Unit displaying behavioral deviance.”

“You can sit there criticizing me, but I don't even have any in-field support, let alone equipment. Considering that I made the plans myself, I judge my own performance to be adequate. You can complain about the outcome when you provide any form of assistance, until then, this is my mission and I have determined the efficiency rating to be one hundred percent. If you dislike that, come decommission me.”

“...Acknowledged.”

My head was pounding so hard that I thought I was being beaten while regaining consciousness. What a dream, I groaned, I haven't had one of those in a while. Without opening my eyes I checked my heads-up display and flinched. At least I got thirty percent of my magic power back, but my nutrients are getting dangerously low, I noted, stamina didn't recover fully either, but that bar barely works anyway. Slowly and painfully I opened my eyes, and to my surprise, I was in my own room at the inn. Someone had dragged me inside, still covered in blood, and thrown a blanket over me while I was unconscious. My body felt light and weak, and for a moment I thought there were insects crawling on me before the sensation faded away.

I grunted and pushed myself to my feet, standing up too fast and needing to brace myself against the wall to avoid falling, then I looked around. The smears of blood that covered the floor had long since dried, and the morning sun crept in through the wooden shutters on the window. I pushed the shutters open, wincing as the light burned my eyes, then finally noticed that something was missing. The backpack, I panicked, Yehpweyl must have taken it. My weapons were missing as well, but the backpack was more important since it was filled to the brim with money. I practically smashed through the door into the hallway, then sprinted down the stairs into an empty first floor. Yehpweyl, wearing clean clothing and sitting in the one occupied chair, looked up at me.

“Where is it?” I asked. With an exasperated sigh she rubbed her eyes with her right hand, then gestured to the seat across from her.

“I put it somewhere for safekeeping,” she said, “sit down and let me grab you some food.”

“Where?” I demanded. “And where are my weapons? If you think I can't take you apart with my bare hands I guess you weren't paying attention last night when I killed those-”

“Just sit your seytoydh ass down and relax,” Yehpweyl ordered, sounding more exhausted than angry. “Gods, if I wanted all the money I could have just killed you while you were passed out instead of dragging you into your room and cleaning up your mess. I probably should have, because I knew you would act like this.” Quiet tension filled the air, quickly diffusing when I exhaled and walked to the chair beside the one Yehpweyl had indicated to sit down in.

“Then why didn't you?” I growled as I lowered myself into the wooden chair. “You could have been rid of me, and I doubt anyone would have suspected anything. You would barely have even had to lie, you could have just told the guard that I killed those mercenaries and then died from my wounds.”

“Who would have believed me?” Yehpweyl scoffed. “As you just said, you're more than capable of fighting off someone like me. It would have raised far too many questions, and the guard love their stupid questions. Besides, dying from your wounds? What does that even mean? You either heal or you don't, or you melt yourself back together, apparently.” She walked off without another word, leaving me in a quiet dining room to think.

The guard are going to be after me, I knew, even more than before. I need to get out of this city quickly before they figure out where I went. With my trajectory and where I was spotted... I did some mental calculations, building up the map of Vehrehr in my head and plotting out what I remembered about the route I took back to the inn. If they didn't see my face, which I don't think they did since it was dark, I might have a few days at most. Hours at worst. Yehweyl came back with a platter of pure meat, stacked so high it was almost spilling over the sides of the plate.

“I didn't kill you because I'm not a murderer,” Yehpweyl stated firmly, as though her answer made any kind of sense. “I stood in that room for a while with my kitchen knife, mulling it over, but I'm not like you. Killing you wouldn't fix anything anyway, and... well, it doesn't matter.” It was obvious that she was omitting information about her motivations, but I couldn't tell how much. Her assertion about not wanting to kill is the most confusing thing about what she just said. Did she somehow not expect Koyl and me to be killed as a result of her informing on us? I wondered, I just can't figure her out. My stomach growled, and drew my attention back to the situation at hand.

“Did I pay for that?” I asked, gesturing to the food.

“You did,” Yehpweyl replied, and I bared my teeth at her in anger. “Oh calm down, what I took was the fee for not turning you in, hiding those bodies last night, and ruining my business. You've ruined my business, by the way.” Something had been bothering me about Yehpweyl since I woke up, and I realized what it was: she wasn't afraid of me anymore. Nervous around me, sure, but not afraid.

“I suppose you are also going to sell their equipment, like I suggested,” I replied before shoving one of the cuts of meat into my mouth. It was seasoned to perfection and cooked very well. Hot liquid gushed out when I bit into it, burning my tongue, but the taste was so pleasurable that I enjoyed every moment of it.

“Are you insane?” Yehpweyl snapped. “There's no way I could even fence it, it's white-hot. I put it in the same place I put the bodies, and no I'm not giving you leverage by telling you where that is.” Probably under the inn, I thought. “Now tell me,” she continued, “what exactly did you get up to last night? I've been hearing people yelling about a massacre outside.”

“I'm not giving you any leverage either,” I retorted with my mouth full. “How much money did you take in total?” And where did you put it? I added silently. On my heads-up display, I saw a number of bars rapidly refilling, and it distracted me. That still doesn't make sense, I thought, it must just be reflecting how much I'll have once the matter is digested.

“You can see the money after you finish eating,” Yehpweyl replied, sighing. “I've left you more than enough to get out of this city, I know that's what you want to do. Also, in case you didn't know, Koyl has been asleep since you brought him back. I tried waking him up but he wouldn't respond.” I didn't reply and instead kept eating. The lump of food moving down my esophagus was getting painfully large, but I couldn't stop. Yehpweyl looked off behind me, then sighed again. “What happened to him?” she asked, her voice cracking subtly.

“You don't care,” I replied, and Yehpweyl winced as if she was struck. I let the answer hang, eating a bit more, then I thought of a question. “Where can I buy prosthe- artificial limbs?” I asked, stumbling mentally as I realized I had never heard the Uwrish word for “prosthetics”.

“Artificial... limbs?” Yehpweyl asked, clearly confused by the idea. Just great, I thought, since their limbs grow back they probably never bothered to figure out how to make prosthetics.

“Quality wood then, and some tools to work it,” I said. I can make a set of basic lower leg replacements quickly, and cover his torso with a coat. That will help keep attention off us when we're walking to the docks.

“Are you going to kill the person I send you to like last time?” Yehpweyl asked. “Yes, I know about that too. The Flowing Wings ended up finding the body, coincidentally enough. If you don't mind my asking, why the seyt did you kill Tkaol?” I was surprised that Yehpweyl wasn't angrier about the death of someone she knew, considering that even warbreed would have been upset over the loss of a useful asset.

“She wanted too much money,” I replied. “With no alternative, I gave her what she asked for, then took it back. You should be happy, I assume you found the money you lent me on my person and retrieved it.”

“Stupid ngoyth,” Yehpweyl muttered, “I warned her she'd end up like that someday.” As she spoke, Yehpweyl seemed to come to a realization. “Wait, are you going to kill me now?” she asked nervously, “For taking some of the money?”

“You said you left enough money for me to leave the city?” I asked, for clarification. Yehpweyl froze, staring at me with a mixture of determination and hesitancy.

“Yes,” she said stiffly, “even if you split it evenly with Koyl you should have enough.” I stared back at her, thinking. Even if she isn't lying, should I kill her? I asked myself. It's not like she provides anything useful to me, but I don't know the extent of the situation with those nobles. She could try to blame me for it, but at the same time, she might function as a decent decoy. I noticed something strange in my mind, and in my motivations, and it was that I didn't want to kill her at all. She even honored our previous agreement, I thought, at least as far as I would expect any human to honor it. I suppose I can give her the opportunity to prove if that was a fluke or not.

“I need to bathe,” I finally stated, “I will be back, and then we will discuss money.” Yehpweyl stayed frozen, but her face didn't betray any inner fear. I'll only be ten minutes. If she tries to attack me or I catch her fleeing, I'll kill her, I decided, If she's gone when I get back, I'll take Koyl and run. I still have money to claim from Steelheart, so even if she takes the backpack it won't obstruct my mission. If she hasn't gone to the guards before this, I doubt she would go to them now that she's implicated in several murders. Explaining the bodies she's probably hiding under the inn wouldn't go well for her if I wasn't around to take the blame.

I grabbed one final clump of food, shoved it in my mouth, then walked out to the back yard.

Cool water washed off layers of dirt, sweat, blood, and grime from my skin as I poured it over my head. The cool breeze sapped heat from my naked form, but felt good on my skin. The smell of Uwrish soap, just the slightest bit sour with a herbal note to it, clung to me. I examined my body and saw the new scars from the previous night, the worst of which was the burn on my abdomen. And yet, my face still looks almost pristine, I chuckled, at least I have the surgery scars so people won't mock me for looking like a child.

A strange feeling started to rise in me, building up in my chest like air inflating a balloon. Suddenly, I started to laugh, and I couldn't stop. The laughter increased in volume and a smile came to my face, then my body started to shake. Electricity rippled along the underside of my skin, tingling pleasurably. I threw my head back to the sky and howled in laughter, experiencing pure bliss. I didn't even know what I was laughing about, nothing funny had happened, but the impulse to laugh from my body was so strong that I just couldn't help but do it.

After around a minute I finally calmed down, and the laughter stopped as abruptly as it started. My lips wanted to curl into a smile, but I held them in place, uncomfortable with my own strange reaction. I'm so... relaxed, I realized, is that even what I should call this? Physically, my muscles feel loose, but mentally, I don't recognize this sensation. It was as if nothing mattered to me for the moment. My tasks were distant, threats were inconsequential, and my only relevant goal was to clean myself and my clothes. After putting my pants back on I took another moment to look up at the cloud-filled sky. It's going to rain soon, I thought, it's pretty lucky that I did all that business last night. I'd probably be dead if it had been raining.

Just eight minutes after I had left I was fully clothed and back inside, sitting at the same table as before. I could hear Yehpweyl moving around in her room, so I knew she hadn't run away. My plate of meat was still where it had been when I left, and after washing up I had gained more of an appetite. I tore a few pieces off to munch on them, and then Yehpweyl came out with the backpack. Interesting, I thought, she doesn't appear to be armed. She plopped it down on the table, and I could hear the money inside. There could be a bomb, or maybe a gas device like the one I used, I thought, looking over the bag carefully and waiting for Yehpweyl to open it. As she moved to do as I expected, screaming from the second floor interrupted us.

Before I knew it I was up the stairs and forcing my way into Koyl's room. Yehpweyl yelled something but was drowned out by the sound of the doorframe snapping apart as I kicked it inward. Koyl was thrashing around in his bed, screaming like a wild animal being tortured. I moved in and approached him and his eyes shot open and looked at me. His stumps scrambled for purchase on the bedding in an effort to move away from me. He's in a state of temporary psychosis, I recognized, having seen the symptoms in warbreed pseudofemales that had been traumatized in battle.

“Koyl,” I said loudly, “calm down. Stop yelling.” Koyl's hyperventilation continued, but he stopped screaming. I saw a face of pure terror, the animalistic fear that took over humans when their minds couldn't cope with their situation. Then his eyes stopped looking around wildly and settled on me. He extended his right arm, saw that it ended in a stump, then looked back at me again.

“Yuwniht?” he asked. “What...?” He's recovering at a normal speed, I thought with relief, at least the trauma won't last very long. One week at most.

“You were being held by in the Hatchet Crew guild hall's basement,” I explained, “last night Yaavtey-” at the mention of the word Yaavtey, Koyl's fear surged and he started hyperventilating again. “He's dead,” I added quickly, “I killed Yaavtey, and pretty much everyone else in the Hatchet Crew guild hall. Actually I'm fairly certain they're all dead. No survivors.”

“That seytoydh taaleyngeyv ngaazmayjh was eating me!” Koyl swore through gritted teeth. Tears were forming in his eyes but he held them back. “Every few hours he would come down and... grab a knife. Then he'd start quoting some... prayers and just...” Koyl struggled to form a sentence. He tried to make gestures, but without hands, they were just subtle movements in his forearm stubs. Then he let out a single sob and crunched his face up, looking away. “He's a monster,” Koyl whispered, “he's not a human being. He's a monster in human flesh.” Cannibalism, I thought, some kind of superstition, perhaps? Something to do with the religion of the area, considering the prayers. He must have thought it would give him some kind of fighting advantage, for some reason.

“He's dead, Koyl,” I repeated to assure him, putting aside my speculation. “I put my fucking blade through his chest and spine then watched him die.” Koyl didn't reply for ten seconds, just taking deep breaths in and out to try to calm himself down. I could tell he was having a hard time believing my words.

“I think I remember a bit,” Koyl said shakily. “Why did you come back to kill him? You could have just left it alone.”

“He had to die,” I growled, suppressing my anger at the thought of Yaavtey. “I wasn't going to leave him alive. Not after what he did to me. Even if there was no contract, I still would have killed him.”

“Never thought I'd hear that from someone like you,” Koyl huffed, trying to laugh but failing to. “It's probably the first normal thing I've heard you say.”

“With his dying breaths, he taunted me, telling me I'd never be able to save you,” I continued. “I didn't know you were down there, I thought you were already dead. If it wasn't for what he told me, I never would have gone back inside.” In a sense, Yaavtey saved your life, I thought, but didn't say in case it caused Koyl to relapse into panic.

“Yeyhhayseytay,” Koyl swore under his breath, “it could have been a trap. I would have thought it was a trap.” Yes I know, I wanted to say, but I barely even considered it at the time. I didn't like thinking about the irrational oversight. The more I recall my recent actions, the more irrationality I find, I thought, it's just like what happened before Suwlahtk, but even worse. I need to keep this from happening again. This is the second time, there will not be a third. Looking at Koyl, I could see that he expected a response of some kind, an explanation.

“You have value to my mission,” I stated, “it was worth the risk. You wouldn't have been easy to replace.” Koyl looked at me with a strange expression that I couldn't read, then laughed and cried at the same time. Reaching up with his right stump he wiped tears from his eyes, then cleared his throat and took a breath.

“I don't even know what to say to that,” he chuckled, tears still in his eyes. I huffed a few breathy chuckles through my nose since my body had the impulse to do so, and Koyl raised his eyebrows. “You are Yuwniht, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied. I suppose that kind of reaction doesn't fit the personality I've expressed thus far, I thought, though it does better fit creator human body language. I should integrate such reactions more slowly, to not draw attention to the change.

“Just checking,” Koyl mumbled. Then he seemed to recall something, and scratched the side of his head with his right stump. “Did I hallucinate the backpack full of money?” he asked, and I let out one more chuff of amusement in response.