Miami, Florida, October 31, 2036

Fin waded through the throng of costumed kids.

Detecting 50% enhanced size to chocolate bars compared to your home, the voice in his head said.

He eyed the gated mansions lining both sides of the wide street. “That’s what happens in rich neighborhoods, I think.” Memories of his pre-spires life were still vague and difficult to grasp. His time under the Cabal’s abuse had been a consistent wall that kept him from trying too hard to remember.

Incongruity. Stores are free. Therefore, there is no cost limit to amount of chocolate and candy a household can provide.

“I didn’t participate in Halloween.”

Good. Unnecessary.

“Are we close?”

500 meters on your left according to the message.

Fin had awoken to a slip of paper plastered to his forehead by the sweat from his recurring nightmares.

Again, I can prevent you from remembering. It is a simple modification to prevent them from being stored—

“And I told you, I want to remember, I need to remember so I don’t forget what was done to me. I’m more concerned with the fact that neither you or I noticed someone placing the message.”

Sentry wards showed faint signs of tampering.

“Which in itself should’ve woken me up… and you never sleep.”

I have a rest state, the voice sounded defensive.

“No excuses…”

Fin reached their destination according to the coded message.

Two armed guards stood at the gate.

He couldn’t see anything beyond because of the thick, tall hedges standing behind the equally tall, iron fence.

“Move along, kid. There’s no candy here,” the guard said.

Fin didn’t appreciate they way the loomed over him with contempt.

Calm. Remember purpose.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “I’m here to see a Lord Wynn.”

“No one just ‘sees’ the lord,” the guard scowled.

“By invitation.”

The second guard snorted. “Oh yeah, what’s your name.”

“Ghost Sorcerer.”

That changed their attitudes.

“Must be here for the Freedom Championships,” the first guard muttered.

“All right, hang on… I need confirmation,” the second guard went through the gate door and vanished behind the hedges.

“So you looking for a patron? the first guard said.

Danger alert!

Fin spun the magic inside his chest flaring to life.

A tall, imposing figure in dark gray plate had seemingly materialized out of the shadows cast by the gate lights.

Move away! Detecting… presences… in his shadow.

Eyes flashed with eerie light through the thin slit of the full helm as the figure stepped up to the guard ignoring Fin completely.

“Lord Wynn,” he rasped, “invitation.”

“Jesus… another one,” the guard muttered. “Okay… just wait a sec. I can’t leave my post.”

The armored figure merely continued to stare down at the guard.

The second guard chose that moment to emerged. He half raised his carbine. “Shit!”

“Another invitation!” the first guard slapped the barrel down.

The second guard swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have to confirm your identity.”

“Dread Paladin.”

“Of course,” the first guard muttered.

“Right, great, the lord’s expecting both of you,” the second guard moved out of the way and gestured to the open door, “just head up the walkway. The guards at the front door will let you in.”

“Wait, what about their weapons?” the first guard said.

The Dread Paladin stood as still as a statue.

Fin couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

“He’s unarmed,” he said. “Just like me,” he spread his arms out wide. “Pat me down if you want, but you’ll have to buy me a drink after.”

The guards’ faces twisted.

Recommended walking behind the Dread Paladin… at a distance.

Which turned out to be easy as the towering armored figure strode through the door with great long strides that meant Fin would’ve had to jog to keep up.

They were escorted into the mansion and into a sitting room off to one side of the great entrance way which was about the same size as Fin’s studio apartment back in SoCal.

The Dread Paladin continued his statue imitation standing near the cold fireplace where he could keep an eye on both ways into the room.

Fin took a chair facing the Dread Paladin. He’d rather keep his eyes on the Dread Paladin, while his partner could keep watch on the two doorways.

Enslaved women and what was clearly a girl entered and left trays of cookies and what smelled like tea on the table. They smiled, which he returned reflexively.

He did his best not to look at them too closely.

The last week had been a struggle. Living in a place where slavery enforced by magitech collars was so deeply ingrained in everyday life tested his control and patience. The abuse he had witnessed reminded him too much of his own past.

The Cabal fits in this New American Republic.

“Not for long,” he whispered.

“You’re not going to have any of the cookies?”

Fin turned to see a bent old man, bronze skin, leathery, wispy gray hair.

“I’m not hungry. This place has a way of making me lose my appetite.

Warning. Use magic sight.

It took all his self control not to conjure a shield and jump back.

The old man contained power.

Immense magical power. Lightning… no… all aspects of a raging storm runs through him.

Fin thought he could see another person superimposed over the frail-looking old man.

This one was a towering mountain of muscle that made the Dread Paladin look small.

“The invitation,” the Dread Paladin rasped.

“Formality must be observed,” the old man said.

Fin heard the disdain in the voice.

“Since you won’t be eating or drinking, then follow me, the ‘lord’ is a busy man.”

The old man led them through a long series of hallways and into an office buried somewhere deep in the mansion.

Seated behind a desk was someone Fin should’ve expected. “Cal… you’re Lord Wynn?”

“As far as anyone sees, hear and even smells,” Cal shrugged. “Thanks, Bitterman,” he regarded the old man, “why don’t you distribute the cookies to the staff and have a few for yourself.”

“I will not eat what chained hands were forced to make,” the old man said.

“Listen, we have to keep up appearances to some degree,” Cal said.

“I’ll give them to the ‘staff’, since they made them in the first place they deserve to reap the full benefit of their unjust labor.”

“Seriously, how long have you been pretending?”

“About two months before I flew back to pick you up,” Cal said.

“Then why drop me off to make my own way into the city. Why not just bring me with you?”

“Appearances,” Cal shrugged.

“Okay… now that I’m here, what’s the real plan?”

“Nothing’s change. You and Cooper here,” Cal nodded to the Dread Paladin, “are going to form a duo team for the Gold Division time attack event.”

“A waste of time,” the Dread Paladin rasped, “you promised me the Cabal.”

“And you’ll get your chance, but first… Cooper—”

“I’m the Dread Paladin.”

“Yeah, but at least 70% Cooper would be better for this conversation, so…” Cal said.

Fin wondered at how Cal could stare into those eerie glowing eyes without apparent concern.

The Dread Paladin’s helmet suddenly melted away into shadow to reveal a young man with a pale complexion and an enviable jaw-line. Those eyes looked shockingly normal.

“The Dread Paladin, who is also Cooper, meet, Ghost Sorcerer, who is also Fin,” Cal said. “You both seek vengeance against the Cabal.”

“Yeah, so what’s your actual plan, not this Freedom Championships nonsense,” Fin said.

“That is the plan. You two compete. Gain rewards, levels, points, become as strong as possible, while I find all the dark places in and around the slaver kingdom where the vipers are hiding,” Cal said. “Sometime in, maybe, January when I’ve sorted out the collar problem and when everyone is celebrating a successful championships and distracted, we will all move. You get your revenge and I free the enslaved, safely.”

Fin frowned. “You shouldn’t have told us that. There’s magic, torture— we could reveal—”

“Don’t worry,” Cal cut him off. “I’m not going to rope you into that stuff. You’re strictly to focus on your goals. And I’ve got a way to protect what you do know from outside eyes, regardless of means.”

“Okay, so me and Cooper need to train together—”

“I work alone,” Cooper said.

“I work in a team, mostly,” Fin replied.

“Cooper, your chances of success go up exponentially if you two work together,” Cal said.

“Not disagreeing, but I’m starting to think this plan, these plans are too complicated. We rangers don’t like complicated. Too many things go wrong and you throw everything off.”

“Well, Fin, the difference is that I’m overseeing these Quests,” Cal said.

“Just tell me where I can find the Cabal,” Cooper said.

“You’d kill a lot of them, but then the Vitiator and the inner council would stop you. If you’re lucky you’ll die before they torture and experiment on you,” Cal said, “and that would be a waste of everything you’ve gone through and done in your pursuit of revenge.”

“Look, dude, I want them dead just as bad as you,” Fin said.

“I doubt that,” Cooper said.

“We can compare horror stories if you want?” Fin raised a brow.

“No. I can see the pain in your eyes. Feel it, behind that thing in your chest that beats instead of a heart,” Cooper said.

“Cooper, bro,” Cal said. “I’m only asking you to spend a few months getting stronger so you can do it properly. Think about it? How many years have you been searching? You’re at the finish line. Two, three months of patience, that’s all that’s left.”

“Fine, I agree,” Cooper said.

“Okay, so how does this work?” Fin said.

“Right, officially, Lord Wynn has extended you patronage, which means you get to come and go here without drawing too much suspicion. You also get the best training times and locations that Lord Wynn’s wealth and influence can buy. The best gear, potions, so on and so forth, not that either of you rely on that sort of thing.”

“Healing and mana potions wouldn’t be bad. I only have a few and if we’re spending this slaver lord’s money then that’s better,” Fin said.

“Get strong, try to stay under the radar as much as possible, stay away from any Cabal you might happen to come across. I’m looking into a way to help you out when the time comes,” Cal said.

“Revenge is mine,” Cooper said, “I’ll only share it with you,” he nodded to Fin, “because you have also suffered under their hands.”

“Rayna’s Rangers would have a claim to that too,” Fin said.

“I don’t want to give away too much. Like I said before, the less you know the better,” Cal said.

“Alright, so, do we get to live here or what?” Fin said.

“If you want. Extra protection for the enslaved would be welcome,” Cal said.

“Okay, then I’ll move in,” Fin said.

“No for me. I don’t like being around the people in collars. It’s… wrong,” Cooper said.

“Same here, but since I can’t free them then I’d rather do what I can to protect at least the ones in this house,” Fin said.

“I’m not a protector,” Cooper turned to leave, “I’ll be back tomorrow morning so we can begin training, Fin.”

“Alright, see you then.”

“Let me show you your room,” Cal said.

“Isn’t that your butler’s job?”

Cal chuckled.

A month later…

The Dread Paladin hesitated.

Gremlins mobbed him biting and clawing breaking their teeth and claws on his plate.

He glanced back at his partner.

Fin.

Ghost Sorcerer.

Rayna’s Ranger.

Fellow victim of the Cabal.

The slight, young man wiggled his fingers and waved his arms in an elaborate pattern to cast a small dart of fire that burned through one gremlin’s head, one.

He sensed the thing in Fin’s pulse with magic. Two heartbeats in one.

A gremlin tried to dig its claws into his helmet.

He crushed its throat.

Punched his spiked gauntlet through another’s face.

He itched to summon his long-handled axe. A few swings would’ve cleared the half-dozen gremlins in seconds.

Instead, he materialized a shortsword in his right hand.

Stab.

Cut.

His arm moved mechanically, much slower than he was capable of moving.

“And this cluster is done…”

Fin’s eyes glazed over with the look for a moment.

He had noticed that happened fairly often.

A less perceptive person would’ve missed it.

“… we’re on schedule. Next cluster is inside the Footlocker.”

The Dread Paladin stomped ahead.

They cruised through the spawn zone race? Time trial? Time attack?

He hadn’t really paid much attention to the details.

It was all a ridiculous waste of time.

But…

Cal had promised.

All he had to do was be patient.

Later still…

“Here,” Cooper threw the sheet of paper on the table.

Fin scanned it. “3rd place…”

“We could have easily beaten the top time had we moved quicker like I said.”

Fin regarded the pale, tall, broad-shouldered young man.

Cooper looked weird without that ever-present dark gray plate.

Cal had insisted since it was frightening the mansion’s staff.

Which was why they were sitting in the backyard.

Although to call it a yard didn’t do it justice.

It seemed to go on forever and there was a huge pool with a mini-waterfall fountain and slide.

He tried not to look at the collar-wearing enslaved as they occasionally brought snacks and drinks for him and Cooper.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “3rd is good enough to move on to the next round.”

“How many of these rounds do we have to go through?”

“One week on trials. One week off. So…” he counted on his fingers, “two more. Or you could look at the sheet. Schedule’s right on the top.”

“I don’t care about this thing… it’s a farce,” Cooper said. “We waste time. If I even tried just a little bit harder we’d be in first and more importantly we wouldn’t be wasting time.”

“That’s not the plan,” he said. “We’re keeping a low profile because we don’t want anyone, specifically the Cabal to have any ideas about our true power.”

“Is that why you do that ridiculous finger waggling and arm circles to cast your spells?”

“Yup.”

“Tell me that you can at least cast spells more powerful than fire darts and stone bullets…”

“I can cast spells more powerful than fire darts and stone bullets,” he said flatly.

“Good… cause when we move on the Cabal I won’t waste my strength to protect you,” Cooper said.

“Well, if that’s your concern than you should have even more incentive to make sure that we do well in this competition. I’ll need all the rewards and bonuses I can get to have a chance at keeping up with your dread might and avoid being a burden,” he rolled his eyes.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Yes…”

“You’re lucky Cal told me to avoid purposefully hurting you,” Cooper rasped.

“Do you talk like that because you’re trying to be intimidating?”

Cooper regarded him with an unblinking stare.

Undeterred he continued. “My theory is that you go months between actually speaking since you clearly don’t interact with other humans.”

“I encounter humans frequently.”

“Sure, but only to kill them or terrify them to spread your dread cause of that Vow.”

“How do you—” a flash of genuine emotion crossed Cooper’s face for the first time in the week and a half Fin had spent in close proximity.

“We have a file on you,” he shrugged lightly. “Nothing personal of course. We keep files on all potential threats. Pretty sure I’ve got a file too.”

“You wouldn’t want to become that in my eyes.”

“I’ve seen… and fought some things… a lot much worst than you.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No.”

“Have you ever faced something like a undead abomination made up of the amalgamated flesh of dozens and dozens of humans, animals, mutant animals and monsters. What’s worse? It could use the spells, Skill and abilities of all that.”

“Sounds easy to defeat. I would just use my dreadlings to distract it while I sought out its core for destruction. Have you single-handedly faced an entire colony of bat—”

“Oh, that?” Fin waved a hand dismissively. “That attempted and failed genocide is in your file.”

“Fine… have you killed anything like a demon spirit that can jump to another body when killed?”

“Let me guess on how you handled that? You killed every living thing in range?”

“Yes…”

“Doesn’t seem that hard to do… have you ever destroyed an ancient pillar that constantly generates death magic, which means it creates endless undead, while continuously regenerating them within its immediate vicinity?”

“No… but I have killed a creature that was half-bear, half-dragon.”

“Which half was which?”

“Front bear, back dragon.”

“Hmm… did it have wings?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know it was half-dragon? It’s more likely that it was half-lizard?”

“It breathed fire and it was bigger than a house.”

“Sure, dangerous, but at our levels? Not that dangerous.”

“Its roar shook the skies. Its steps shook… the ground.”

“My flesh abomination sounds scarier.”

“Then, how about a summoned godling of the forest, summoned through a profane blood ritual using babies?”

Fin raised a brow. “That wasn’t in your file.”

“It was fairly recent. In Canada, across the Montana border. A group of warlocks.”

“That sounds like something that needs to be on file. Tell me.”

“I killed them all.”

“Yeah, but others could try again.”

“No.”

“At least tell me how you killed the godling.”

“I stabbed, cut and told my dreadlings to eat it before it was fully materialized.”

“Ah… so it wasn’t that hard of a battle. Got it.”

Again… later…

“We need to pick up the pace!” Fin said.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” the Dread Paladin rasped. “Can I try harder?”

“You may.”

He released his shortsword back to shadow bringing forth a long-handled axe a second later.

One sweeping strike bisected six gremlins.

Behind him, Fin did those ridiculous arm circles, multiple arms appearing like afterimages, to cast a small fireball that blew apart a second cluster of gremlins.

“Run to the next point. We’re about thirty seconds off the last qualifying spot for the next round,” Fin said.

The Dread Paladin waded into the store behind wide, horizontal swings of his axe.

The monsters inside were grotesque versions of plush teddy bears.

One tried to stab its long tongue into his helmet’s eye slits.

Fin blasted it away with an ice bullet.

“Didn’t even buy you an iced coffee first.”

A teddy bear oozing from multiple pulsating growths tried to hug the Dread Paladin’s face. He grabbed it and splattered it against the far wall.

“They really want to fuck your face,” Fin snorted.

“You rangers talk too much in battle,” he rasped.

“Only if it isn’t serious… make that always…”

They cleared the store quickly.

“Time?”

Fin’s stride never broke even as his eyes glazed over.

“We’re back on track. Just two more stores then we can trigger the boss monster.”

Later…

Fin felt them before he saw them.

Calm. Remember plans. Quest. Purpose, the voice in his head said.

Fin took a deep breath and turned to Cooper, “we’ve got Cabal incoming. Don’t do anything stupid.”

The tall, broad-shouldered young man bristled.

His shadows writhed.

Fin had never seen such agitation even in the middle of a moderately difficult boss fight.

A trio of Cabal members walked onto the practice field.

They wore training clothing, but the colors and the symbol on their shirts were unmistakable even if he couldn’t feel the nature of their magic suffusing their entire beings.

So many different and familiar flavors.

Sadism, lust, rage were the most prevalent though there were plenty more.

Corruption, domination, envy, selfishness. Every worst aspect of humanity taken to its zenith. All wrapped up in with the Cabal’s unceasing depravity.

Bad memories rushed to the surface.

Calm. Forget past. Remember today. Future. The plan. Patience.

The Cabal walked straight for him and Cooper.

He could hear Cooper’s teeth grind, the tension in the body as muscles clenched, the heartbeat race in preparation for violence.

“Remember the plan. Patience. For a few more weeks,” he hissed.

Cooper relaxed slightly.

“You guys are done,” the lead Cabal mage said.

Fin mastered the urge to send a conjured claw through the man’s chest. “That sounded like a statement, not a question,” he replied.

“You’re a smart guy, huh?” the second Cabal mage, a woman, said.

“That’s right,” the leader continued, “this is our practice area now.”

“We still have time,” Fin said flatly.

“Five minutes practice won’t make a difference for you in the final round.”

Fin narrowed his eyes. “You’re in the Gold Div contest?” he honestly hadn’t recognized the Cabal team without their masks and hoods. “I didn’t know that. Are you still in?”

“We had the second fastest time in the second round!” the leader snapped.

“While you two came in eighth,” the woman sneered.

“Last place,” the third Cabal mage added.

“Two of us, three of you,” Cooper rasped. “Not good odds—”

“Hey, Bro… don’t complain if you’re the dumbasses that decided on only having a team of two—”

“Not good odds for you,” Cooper finished.

“Relax, big guy,” the leader’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, “we’re not going to do anything that risks our spot in the final round. So, why don’t you be a good little pasty-faced bitch and clear out for your betters.”

Cooper stood like a statue.

Fin couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad one.

“We’ve still got time, so… why don’t you wait for your turn,” he said.

“You don’t seem to be understanding. Are you retarded or something? Your big and tall boyfriend looks special, but a skinny, pretty, little thing like you looks fairly normal although… I’ve been wrong before,” the leader smirked. “Listen, clear out or we’ll show you what we do to people like you… after the competition, of course.”

Calm. Only powerless words, the voice in his head pleaded.

Fin looked around for one of the practice field’s attendants.

“Going to cry to one of the refs?” the third Cabal mage said.

“Don’t bother, they know who we are,” the woman said.

Sure enough the closest attendant was pointedly ignoring Fin’s waving arm.

“We’re not leaving,” Cooper rasped.

“What? You’re just going to stand there and stare at us?” the woman said.

“Yeah,” Fin said.

“Fine, waste your time,” the leader crossed his arms.

“Fine…” he replied.

He regarded the third Cabal mage, a young man. “Why are you holding your arms like that?”

Oh, he knew why.

Had seen that common affliction that possessed many an insecure man.

“He has invisible lats,” Cooper said flatly.

Fin laughed.

The last later…

The final round.

The unlikely duo was ready.

They had decided to go for victory reasoning that they needed to maximize their rewards.

Free attribute points were there for the taking.

Universal Points to purchase better abilities.

A free bonus ability choice.

A level up for the Dread Paladin.

For Ghost Sorcerer, the possibility of upgrading the beating source of his magic.

The wealth and status the slaver kingdom offered meant nothing to the pair.

All they wanted was revenge.

Weeks of practicing, running through spawn zones and waiting was almost at an end.

Cal had delivered what had been promised.

The Cabal’s main base no longer held secrets.

The inner council’s secret sanctums had been discovered.

Dozens of safe houses scattered throughout Miami and the rest of the region had been marked.

The noose around the Vitiator’s neck slowly tightened.

Soon, they’d finally be able to spring the lever.

“May I try?” the Dread Paladin rasped.

“I’d say we go 80-85% of our max capabilities. This is only the first spawn zone. We’ve got two more after,” Ghost Sorcerer said. “I’m going to keep my best stuff hidden unless we need it to win. Winning means we’ll probably get something better or more upgrades, so I think it’s worth it. But, you do you, like usual.”

“I’ll try to do what you said.”

“Get ready,” the referee said.

They regarded the starting line and the digital clock standing to the side.

The mall’s entrance gaped open into a dark, shadowy, monster-filled hell.

Ghost Sorcerer nodded.

The Dread Paladin stood like a statue, black spear planted into the concrete.

The bell rang.