Microstory 2655: Shadow of the Throne

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They’re here. They’re in Loegria, specifically just outside the walls of Camelot’s lower town. It was a fine walk all the way out here, which is part of the immersive experience. There were no trains in the middle ages, so the castle is a full forty-two kilometers from the entrance. For a normal person in those days, that might have taken a couple of days, or more, including rest. Many come to this dome with intentionally low-grade substrates to really feel the antiquity of it all. Team Ravensgate doesn’t care about that experience. They just need to get the job done. It takes them four hours of sustained powerwalking. The clothing was the most difficult part. In order to be let through the gates, they decided to travel as nobles, and people like that dressed for attention, not comfort or practicality. Reagan has it the worst. He’s portraying a knight.

“I speak the language, so let me do the talking,” Mandica encourages. “This dome is not a hundred percent accurate. Women and people of color are not treated as second-class citizens. The NPCs are programmed to ignore it.” They draw nearer. “Good morrow, kind sir!” she calls up to one of the guards. “We are travelers to Glastonbury, and require one night of rest. Is there room at the inn for three ladies and their knight?”

The guard stares daggers before reaching behind his back and taking out a parchment. He unrolls it, and leans over to the side to show the other guard. It appears they are comparing something on it to the team. He clears his throat. “You have been expected, Lady Raven of Dakota, The Hollow Red Woman, and the Shadow of Doubt.”

“Please enter,” the other guard adds as the gates are opening for them. “Make your way to the tiltyard for your challenge.” He chortles. “I do not like your odds.”

“We did not sign up to joust,” Mandica informs them.

“You are on the list, you are fighting in the grand mêlée,” he replies with a shrug.

“Morgana knows we’re here,” Reagan guesses as they’re walking through.

The lower town is exactly how you would think. The first thing they see is the market, where locals, neighboring farmers, and travelers are selling their wares. The road leads up the mountain, towards the castle. They don’t know precisely where the tiltyard is, but it’s the biggest tourist attraction in the land, so it will be obvious enough. Mandica did not look too much into how it works when you legitimately sign up to visit this dome. Do you start as a serf, and try to work your way up, or is it like Ravensgate, where you get to write your full character sheet? Malika made herself rich in Underbelly, and that was fine since not everyone finds that to be the best gaming experience. They may have rules against that here, however. Perhaps all other nobles are NPCs. Anyone they come across could be a visitor, and if they are, will be a lot less likely to break character than people in Underbelly. They’re not just playing cops and robbers, but living an ancestral life 24-7. Being truly immersed is the entire purpose.

They continue up the mountain. The townspeople scowl until they think they’ve been caught, then turn away to avoid punishment. They knew they wouldn’t have a lot of fans, dressed like this. It was necessary to get through that gate without issue. Though, they didn’t expect to be let in quite that easily, or be expected. But it’s fine. If Morgana wants to fight, they can fight. That’s why they came here prepared.

They make it to the tiltyard, which is full of people. A runner apparently beat them here so he could warn the Marshal of their arrival. The stands are completely full. The audience begins to cheer uproariously when the four of them enter the grounds. Morgana didn’t only send word to her guardsmen. She prepared the whole town. She wants to make a show of it. She probably wants to humiliate them.

The Knight Marshal stands on his platform, and begins to bellow his announcement. He tells false tales of where the four of them come from, making up annoyingly elaborate backstories, which the governing AI must have developed for them since they didn’t take the time to write their own. They’re expected to stand there and look confident or scared. They don’t have time. “Excuse me?” Jaidia interrupts.

The Knight Marshal glares at her before turning back to the crowd so all can hear. “You will have your chance to speak when I am finished!”

“Right, but is Morgana here?” Jaidia continues.

“Or Morgan le Fay?” Mandica adds, not sure which name they use for her here.

“Lady Morgana is in Avalon, where she—hey! Hey!” He’s getting mad because the four of them are simply leaving. “Hey, I have this whole introduction planned! I’ve been working on this all day! It’s not easy to speak in this weird Chaucerian shit!”

“Save your complaint for your review!” Malika argues back.

A wiry little man skitters up to them as they’re leaving. “Seek ye the road to Avalon? I know the way. Lady Morgana, she lays traps for those who would do her harm. If you are not pure of heart, or sharp as steel, you may wander for days in a circle that looks straight. I can shine a light upon the true path. I am a humble man. All I ask—”

Mandica strikes him in the chest with her open palm, sending him crashing into the brush in the ditch. Her friends are neither bothered, nor confused. “That’s enough, shapeshifter! We’re taking you to Castledome, where you will face judgment!”

The impostor smirks as he’s standing back up. His skin mutates into nanites, and begin to crawl all over his body, changing shape, changing color, and changing her size. A dark mist swarms her for effect. The statuesque Morgana stands before them. She breathes with an unsettlingly bright smile, as if this form is more comfortable, though if she is made entirely of nanobots, it doesn’t feel like anything, and any preference for form would be merely psychological. She’s not even breathing at all. “Do you really want to have this anachronistic fight here?” she asks with a cackle. “Steward wants to bring me in for breaking the rules. You would break them in service to your fool’s quest?”

“Sure.” Reagan takes out his decoherence gun, and shoots Morgana in the chest without hesitation. He has been working on it in secret for decades. Once it’s perfected, he will be able to use it on the man who oppressed him, and is still oppressing his people back home. It will kill every single back-up of anyone streaming their consciousness outside of their body. For now, it is only capable of destroying this one copy, but Azad is standing guard outside of Vanore’s substrate storage chamber. After she returns to her regular body, he won’t let her reinsert herself into the simulation.

With no time to react, Morgana falls to pieces. It’s powerful enough to disrupt the brain’s electrical signals, which means it’s also capable of breaking your average, everyday electromagnetic bonds. If she were more solid, it would not have been so dramatic. More people witnessed it than they realized. They begin to crowd around. “You...you killed her,” a child says. “You killed the witch. Will you save the queen now?”

“The queen?” Malika asks. “Who is the queen? Why does she need saving?”

“Why, ‘tis Guinevere, of course. She withers in the high tower.” The child points. “The King will give you anything if you kill the Bane of Loegria, and set his heart free.”

Microstory 2654: An Epic Quest

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Hrockas gave Mandica and her team unprecedented access to data and controls for the simulation. Unfortunately, it turned out to be rather useless in finding her hideout in the dome. If the Custodians who ran the sim couldn’t find Morgana with that information, what hope did four puny humans have? But it wasn’t entirely unhelpful. They decided to think more like her, or more to the point, like her character. If Morgana were a real person, how would she think? How would she act? The core question is why hasn’t she done anything since her attack at the jewelry store? Before Mandica showed up, her power in this city was surpassed only by her mystique. She claimed to live in a distant land, only coming to Ravensgate when business brought her here. Malika says it reminds her of some guy named Ra’s Al Ghul, but Mandica doesn’t know who that is. Their initial assumption was that Vanore wasn’t spending all of her time in Underbelly, but how was she exiting the dome without being traced? According to the logs, Vanore’s regular body is still in substrate storage. If she’s leaving, she’s not returning to it.

Incidentally, they did check Vanore’s storage chamber, though Hrockas was not happy about it. He told them that there was a breach a number of years ago that he doesn’t want repeated. Substrate storage is extremely delicate. People rely on those back-ups to survive, so there are mountains and mountains of laws designed to protect bodies from being tampered with. While Castlebourne doesn’t have to follow stellar neighborhood laws, in this situation, they absolutely do, because mind-transference is their bread and butter, and because it’s the right thing to do. But if Vanore isn’t in Underbelly, and she isn’t in her regular body, then she must be somewhere else on the planet. But she could not have beamed her mind to an entirely different body, because the logs would show that too.

“I got it!” Mandica is in her pajamas. They all are. It’s late, but this puzzle keeps them up just about every night.

“You know where she is?” Jaidia questions. “How?”

“I don’t know the how,” Mandica replies, even though that’s not really the question. “I only know the where. It was so obvious, I’m kicking myself for not realizing it before. God, I’m so stupid. She told us where she lived from the very beginning!”

“Well, stop teasing us like she apparently did, and tell us!” Reagan urges.

“Loegria.”

“Loegria?” Malika echoes.

“It’s the King Arthur dome,” Mandica explains. “There is a Morgana there; there has to be. Just like there’s a Merlin, and a Lancelot, and even Sir Dagonet. When I first heard of her, I assumed they were distinct interpretations of the character. I mean, there are already plenty of different versions of Morgan Le Fay in lore. The one from the TV series Merlin is not the same as the one from Le Morte D’Arthur. But what if it’s not like that here? What if she’s just counting on us to assume that? She could be splitting her time between Ravensgate and Camelot. She’s a shapeshifter, so if she’s somehow found a way to sneak back and forth through the backrooms, or whatever, Hrockas and the Custodians would never know. They wouldn’t realize it’s the same consciousness either.”

Malika and Reagan exchange a glance. “Mandy, you can’t go to Loegria. Hrockas warned you against that. We could go, but we would have to go back to our regular bodies first, even Reagan. That’s why we were hoping she hadn’t left this dome.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” Mandica begins, “since we started postulating that she wasn’t always in the dome. Hrockas is not a god. He obviously needs us, or he would use whatever resources he has at his disposal to deal with meta-business. Do you remember how weird it was when he came here? Why did we meet him in some penthouse? Why didn’t he just walk into our headquarters? For that matter, why did he conscript us for this job at all? I’m sure he’s busy, but I’m sure he can delegate the work to someone else in the executive administrative authority. I don’t actually care why he chose us, as long as he honors that moving forward. If he wants us to be the ones to catch Morgana, we will, and we’ll do it by whatever means necessary.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” comes a voice from behind the couch. They jump up to find Hrockas’ personal bodyguard, Azad Petit. It’s impossible. Unless there are built-in trapdoors all over the place, one of them should have seen him come in. He’s just standing there as if the solid wall was briefly a doorway. It doesn’t make any sense. 

“How did you get in here?” Reagan questions, aiming his maser gun. He didn’t come back here as a superhero, but he’s not completely helpless either.

“That’s classified.” When Azad senses that they’re too intrigued, he goes on, “you can either know how I did it, or you can get an exemption to leave the dome with those bodies. We will have stipulations, but we need this problem taken care of. Quietly.”

“Are we allowed to ask how you happened to show up while we were talking about your boss, or are we to believe it was just a coincidence?” Jaidia questions.

“Your buddy was looking at my contact card,” Azad explains. “I get an alert when that happens.

They look at Reagan. “I was only preparing to reach out to him,” he defends.

“Now you don’t have to,” Azad reiterates. “I’m here, and I’m here to tell you that you can go to Loegria, but you can’t be in costume, and you can’t take those wings.” He jerks his head towards their wings, which are charging on their docks. “If you get there and run into resistance, we don’t want you to die, but you can’t be flying around as superheroes. It does not belong in that world. Again, we want to get this done without anyone noticing. If Vanore has replaced that simulation’s Morgana NPC, that is a huge breach, and letting others know that it’s possible will only make things worse.”

“Wow. How much of our conversation did you hear?” Jaidia kind of complains.

“Obviously enough. Will you do it? Will you help us plug the leak?”

“What do we get if we do?” Malika asks him.

“He doesn’t have to give us anything,” Mandica contends, looking over at her briefly, and then back at Azad. “Our goals are aligned. We’ll take care of it. We’re not asking for payment, but if we do this, we become your heroes, right? That will count for something, right? You will consider us friends in the future...right?”

Azad scoffs, but isn’t mad. “Yes, and friends take care of each other.”

After he leaves, The team decides to get one more night of rest, but before that, they visit Elysia’s tailor to make them new clothes. They will need to blend in with the Arthurian realm. They don’t take the wings that Azad indicated, and they don’t take their superhero outfits. They’re not entirely unarmed, however. They do have wings, but they’re an upgrade from even Daedalus’ originals. Thanks to Reagan’s mechanical engineering skills, and Jaidia’s background in biology, their wings are now always with them, and hidden.

Microstory 2653: The Once and Future Owner

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Over the last eleven months, Ravensgate Rescuer, Blue Wave, and Cardinal Virtue have become—hands down—the most popular superhero team in town. Seemingly in response to this, the gamemakers have upped their game, introducing more advanced opponents to battle. They called the simulation Underbelly because it was originally only meant to involve street level conflict. Narratively, it would be nothing world-altering. They’re still not at the point where aliens are descending from the heavens, but they do supposedly come from other dimensions, and in massive numbers. The heroes have proven more capable than expected. While the Flying Femmes are the vanguard force, the team-up leaders, and the most celebrated, there are plenty of others contributing in their own ways. Some of them die, but it’s so much fun that the majority of them come back as new characters, or as the same character, using some in-universe magical twist. This happens all the time in the inspirational source material.

Reagan and Grover staged a highly scripted battle with each other around ten months ago. It was televised, and not only in this dome. People all over the world reportedly watched the events, and there are rumors that the “film” has reached beyond Castlebourne, to other colonies and Earth. Wave Function was looking for revenge for the second Ravensgate Rescuer’s death, even though she came back. In the end, after some gruelingly emotional dialogue, Velvet Thunder redeemed himself by sacrificing his own life to save Wave Function, along with a handful of innocent bystanders. Wave Function survived, but was permanently injured. The story goes that he retired to a cabin in the middle of the woods, as per comic book movie protocol. In reality, Reagan exited the simulation, and returned as a new character. He now serves as the man in the chair for the Flying Femmes, servicing their advanced wing technology, unseen by the public. He needs to hone his mechanical skills with modern tech. Grover, on the other hand, left the dome entirely, and is now shredding gnar in Winterbourne Park.

The universe has expanded. Elysia headlines a new immersive superhero story set under a new dome. Seagate is an oceanside city, which has its own series of beaches, but also butts up against Polar Tropica. While you can’t actually pass from Seagate to the gigantic dome that covers the south pole ocean, it’s out there, and visitors who have nothing to do with Underbelly can come right up to the transparent barrier between them. The girls have visited their friend several times, but the Flying Femmes have not yet fought alongside Elysia’s new character, Seagate Savior. They’re planning a huge crossover event for the end of the month, though. They might have done it sooner, but the gamemakers wanted Seagate to stand on its own for a few months before they introduced a more complex story structure. Incidentally, Elysia didn’t name herself. She elected to go out there with an oceanic theme, and the press came up with the moniker. Behind the scenes, since the public are AIs, it was likely the developers’ idea.

Morgana has been quiet. Mandica’s theory is that she orchestrated the whole thing with the jewelry store and the stone. There were a few too many coincidences. On the day of the attack, she used a different sword than she typically wielded. The real Philosopher’s Stone just happened to be on display there. They weren’t even going to go there in the first place, but a salesman encouraged them as they walked by. Did Vanore want her to somehow become the Ravensgate Rescuer? Has this been her twisted way of fulfilling what Mandica now believes were her parents’ wishes? She wants to ask her, but she would have to find her first. They know she has shapeshifting technology, so she could be anyone. She could be watching them up close every single day, holding her agenda close to the chest. They try not to worry about it too much, because until she makes a move, there’s really nothing they can do about it.

Today, they’re concerned with something else. Despite knowing that Mandica came to this planet illegally, the executive administrative authority has never said a word. The apparent owner mentioned something to Elysia before, but nothing has happened yet. That has recently changed. A man named Hrockas Steward has entered the simulation, and set up a meeting with Mandica, as well as any friends she would like to bring. Blue Wave is on patrol, but her other two team members are with her, dressed in civilian clothing. They’re in the elevator, heading up to the penthouse. “Do you wanna run? Jaidia asks. “We can run. We’ll find a way out of this dome, and hide somewhere.”

“They’ll find me,” Mandica replies. “It’s okay. If it turns out they want to punish me, or send me back to Earth, it will be on them.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna do that,” Reagan determines. “They don’t care about Earthan laws, and it would cost resources to ship you all the way back there. Before you ask, it’s illegal to digitize someone without their consent, so they would need a ship.”

The doors open. Only one security guard is waiting for them in the antechamber. He’s wearing armor, but has poor posture. He’s not nervous, which he shouldn’t be. They have no plans to harm Mr Steward. They didn’t even bring their wings. “Good afternoon, visitors. My name is Dominus Azad Petit. Miss Kolar, he would like to speak with you alone at first. The others can wait out here with me. I assure you, it’s safe.”

“It’s fine,” Mandica says when the others look like they’re about to protest, particularly Reagan. She goes in alone.

A man is standing at the window, looking out at the skyline. This is the best view in town, but if he owns the whole planet, he probably has better ones. He turns to face her. “Miss Kolar. Thank you for coming. I figured it was time we met.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Mandica asks, deciding to be bold.

“Quite the opposite,” he says. “If you had come here legally, and followed proper procedure, you would know that it is also against the law to exit a simulation in any substrate constructed for the purposes of inhabiting and taking action in that simulation. When your friends leave, they do so in their original bodies, or rather, whatever they were wearing on the outside before. Since you are undigitized, that is not possible for you. You are walking around in an incredibly powerful substrate that is outside my purview. I am here partially to ask that you remain here, or digitize. I cannot have it getting out that I made any exception. Your situation is too complicated to explain to the other visitors, or the citizens. I cannot force you, I can only ask.”

“Yeah,” I can do that,” Mandica agrees. “For now. But I might live forever, and I won’t want to live forever here.”

“I understand. If you would like to leave in the future, please reach out to me first so we can discuss. But that’s not really why I wanted to talk. I’ve decided to divulge to you that you are not the only stray under the dome. One other breached our defenses.”

“Who? Who else would come to such a dangerous place unprotected?” she asked.

“I never said that she was unprotected. She is actually more powerful than you. I can’t seem to track Morgana, and was hoping to employ your services towards that end.”

Microstory 2646: Little Miss Incredible

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Mandica’s eyelids flip open. The harsh fluorescent lighting irritates her eyes for a second before they dim. Everything dims, as if she’s wearing sunglasses. It’s cold, and she knows that, but she doesn’t feel the familiar sting of her body heat evaporating from her skin. She is just arbitrarily aware of it. The man is scared, or the doctor, because he’s wearing a lab coat. Reagan is there. He’s surprised too, but not scared. Mandica sits up to see him take out his sonic weapon, and utterly destroy the doctor. Wait. This isn’t a hospital, or if it is, a specific sector in it; probably in the basement. She’s not in a medical bed, but a drawer, and two dozen other closed drawers line the wall next to her. This is a morgue. They thought she was dead, and she ought to be, because if they didn’t even bother treating her, she shouldn’t have healed. She is not like these people.

Reagan steps closer to the mortician with his weapon, and keeps blasting until he’s sure the NPC is dead. He looks back over to Mandy. She’s entirely naked, the sheet having dropped down when she sat up, but she doesn’t care. He’s breathing heavily. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but we can’t have him submitting his periodic report.”

“How am I still alive?” Mandica asks him.

“I don’t know. You weren’t,” Reagan answers. “I came here to claim your body so I could prevent them from finding you, under the pretense of being responsible for your funeral arrangements, which I absolutely would have done to cover your tracks.”

“There’s something in my back,” she says as she’s trying to reach behind her. “It’s, like, hard and pulling at my skin. It doesn’t really hurt, but there’s something there.”

Reagan walks over and checks it out. “It’s, uhh...well...” He gives her a funny look, and then checks her back again. “It’s...”

“If you’re distracted by my bare ass, I’ll let you see it better later, just tell me what’s there. Did a shard of glass get embedded in my skin?”

“I’m not looking at your ass, and it’s not a shard, but...it might be glass. It’s glowing, though.”

“Glowing? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Here.” He takes out his handheld device, and snaps a photo of it, which he then shows to Mandica. It’s not glass. It appears to be the Philosopher’s Stone.

“What the fuh?” Mandica questions, having no words for this. It’s glowing all right, which she can tell even from it only being a still image.

“Do you... You don’t think it’s real, do you? The Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Well,” Mandica begins. “People die and come back to life all the time. It probably happens thousands of times each day on this planet alone. It’s not entirely out of bounds for someone to invent a stone that can somehow heal and resurrect. I doubt it’s anything that was made back in ancient times, but it can certainly exist now, can’t it?”

“Can I touch it? I really wanna touch it.”

“How deep is it in there?” The extent of the glow, and the lack of depth in the photo, make it hard to tell.

“It’s pretty deep. I don’t think touching it is going to knock it out.”

“Go ahead.” She sees him reach back there, and then she feels it. Oh, God, does she feel it. It is, quite frankly, orgasmic. That was not in the legends about alchemy. “Okay, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop. A little goes a long way with that thing. Jesus.”

Reagan looks down at the dead mortician. “Someone else might show up at some point, We need to sneak you out of here. I’ll try to scrub the records. I don’t know what they keep track of, though, since this is probably the first true death in history.”

“Except it wasn’t,” Mandica points out. She swings her legs out from under the sheet, and hits the floor with a thud. How embarrassing. Has she gained weight? She tries to see her own reflection in the metal drawers, but they’re not reflective enough.

“That’s true. Here.” He takes off the mortician’s lab coat, and hands it to her.

It’s big enough to cover her, she just looks like she’s wearing shorts or a short skirt now. “The others? Did any of them survive?” she asks.

“Jaidia is recovering, and should be able to keep her substrate. Malika’s dead. I’ve not spoken with her yet. Ravensgate Rescuer is dead too. I don’t have her contact information for the outside world, but I’m guessing she’s pretty upset about it.”

“At least she gets a second chance.” She tries to push down on the door handle, and ends up tearing the whole thing off. Maybe she gained muscle weight. “Okay, are these buildings designed to be that easy to break to better simulate mayhem, errr...?”

“They are not,” Reagan says, coming up to inspect the damage. “If you wanna break something, you gotta be strong enough to do it.”

Mandica regards Reagan for a moment, then sticks her fingers in the hole where the handle once was. She grips it tight, and pulls the whole door off of its hinges.

“I’m thinking that stone is real, and it does more than bring people back to life.”

Mandica very gently sets the door down on its side, and lets it lean against the wall. “I probably should not have tested my newfound strength in such a public place.”

Reagan looks over his shoulder at the dead NPC. “Actually, maybe that’s exactly what you should do. Maybe you should do a lot more damage around here, so it will look like some supervillain came by. It would explain him, and where your dead body went, so we don’t have to locate and erase the records.”

She sighs through her nose. “I’m new to this—whatever this is—I don’t know what I’m doing.” She walks further back into the room. “Plus, someone might be coming.”

“Well, I’ll handle that, if it comes up,” he decides. “You just practice a little.”

Mandica decides to not do that. The door and the dead mortician are enough. Reagan isn’t convinced, so he stays behind, and creates a bigger mess using his gun. He then goes into the security room, and destroys the footage before meeting up with Mandica outside. He was going to drive her back home, but she does want to practice, so she asks him to take her out to the middle of nowhere. He knows of an abandoned train yard about thirty kilometers outside of town that was placed there for this very thing. She is not the only person there testing her own limits. It’s an unspoken rule that you don’t fight at The Depot. It’s for newbies who want to figure out how well they designed their substrates in a more practical environment.

When they add it all up, Mandica’s abilities match with what Elysia had when she was the Rescuer. Superstrength, speed, stamina, heightened senses, spring-action legs for jumping. A lot of people have these things, but Elysia was remarkably more powerful, and now Mandica has somehow taken her place, thanks to this weird red piece of glass. Elysia herself shows up in the middle of Mandica’s self tests after Malika called her, after Reagan called her. Elysia is presumably in her normal body now, which is still likely pretty formidable, and doesn’t seem upset. “Okay. Show me what you got.”

Microstory 2636: Don’t Forget To Bring a Towel

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Trilby throws a silky towel at her. “I hope you understand that I removed your clothes to provide you with medical treatment. I would have been waiting for you on the landing pad, but you showed up way too early. Why didn’t you go down on a slower trip, with the animals? That would have been a lot safer for your fragile human body.”

“They would have caught me,” Mandica explains briefly. “What is this?”

“Temporary,” he says. “I call it the cloak of invisibility. You will be perfectly visible to the naked eye while we’re out there, but the identity sensors won’t spot you. You will appear as an infrared aberration, caused normally by too many people beaming data to each other’s devices at the same time. We will take a particular route to where we’re going so that sort of thing doesn’t stand out.”

She frowns at the towel. Yeah, it isn’t a cloak, it is a towel. No hood, no draw string. It is see-through, but still just a big cloth square. “Will I not look a little odd, walking around with this thing over my head?”

Trilby laughs heartily. “Odd? Sweetheart, you’re on Castlebourne now. My next door neighbor is a giant beetle, and is probably smarter than me. They might as well call this world Substrate City. You’re not going to stand out. There is no way to stand out on this planet. Everyone is here to formulate their unique identity, and they change by their whims all the time. Now. Functionally, you’re rare. There are a few communities here who are just as unenhanced—less unenhanced, in fact—and they are not insignificant, but most people change bodies like you might change your hairstyle. But don’t worry, you can’t tell, and people are careful around each other, because there’s no way to know. No one’s gonna shoot you with a gun under the assumption that you’ll survive.” He taps his middle finger on a screen. “I took the liberty of building you your own modified prospectus. The green domes are fine. You’ll be safe in any of those. I’m talkin’ your residential areas, your museums, your educational historical recreations.

“Yellow, a little more dangerous. They have ways of protecting visitors. If they’re a normal human, the Custodians will make accommodations. They might even separate the unenhanced from the enhanced so there’s never any question. Red are no-go zones. Most of them are specifically designed for people who have disposable substrates. A visitor might even end up getting a whole fleet of bodies to switch to one by one. If someone like you without the spoof lenses were to try to sneak in, the sensors would flag them so fast, their head would spin off. Apparently, there was one guy years ago who got stuck in a dangerous game and nearly died because the people who were trying to murder him hacked the system. They won’t let that happen again. They installed new sensors all around the world, and are constantly checking. You will be walking around basically as an admin. They’ll let you in anywhere, but that’s why I made this list for you, so you can decide what you’re willing to risk. You need to understand your options.”

“You said something about spoof lenses?”

“Yes, it’s not just those. They have multiple ways of tracking identities, the most common of which is an eye scan. They also—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mandica interrupts. “If people are changing bodies, and your neighbor is an insect, how would a retinal scan even be possible in a place like this?”

“It’s not only a retinal scan. The retinal scan is a second stage identifier that the system will only perform if the first stage scan turns up blank. Everyone capable of transferring their consciousness is given a unique watermark, placed upon their optic nerves. I don’t know if you know this, but humans have a natural blindspot in their eyes due to where the optic nerves connect to the eyes. Your brain fills in the blanks, but you can’t see light that hits that spot. Fortunately for optic void scanners, though, light does still hit that spot. They shoot an invisible laser into it to read someone’s watermark, to know who they are. They don’t even have to keep their eyes open. It can pass through eyelids, and many other materials. For a normal person, if it doesn’t detect that watermark, it will default to the retinal scan, and register your preferences and restrictions.” He points at the invisibility towel. “The scanner can’t pass through that, so it will see infrared interference, and not see your unregistered eyes.”

“Why do I need the towel if I have these spoof lenses?”

“You don’t have the spoof lenses yet. The woman who’s getting them for me is on the other side of the planet. We have to travel to her first. Before you ask, she can’t come to us, because she’s also protecting you from brainwave scanners. That’s another thing you need in order to be a ghost. They’re becoming more common. They’ll never do away with the optic void scanning system, but spoofing an authorized watermark is easier than fooling a brain scan. Don’t tell anyone, but about zero-point-zero-zero-one percent of the time, a cloned or bioprinted body doesn’t produce the watermark correctly, and it has to be fixed, either with a new replacement, or a visit to the optomeger.”

“This woman with the brain scanner—”

“The baseline imager. A brain scanner verifies your brainwaves. The baseline imager is the thing that inputs in the data. It’s highly regulated. There are only a few of them in the world. People would notice if she borrowed it and took it on a vactrain.”

“I see. The baseline imager woman; can she be trusted?”

“She’s already done for me what she’s about to do for you,” Trilby explains. “She holds a special office in a special government for a special community. They were refugees fleeing oppression, and live here permanently, not simply as visitors. Apparently, her now-husband initially refused to be enhanced, so she’s sympathetic to that sentiment, even though he’s now just like her, and I am too. The only reason she’s keeping him out of it is so that he can have plausible deniability, but I told her about you, and she thinks you and the Superintendent would get along.”

“Okay, I think I have all the information I need. I should say, I trust you. Let’s go out there and walk around like ghosts, me moreso than you.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

And so the two of them leave the apartment. Trilby already has his spoof lenses on, but Mandica has to stay under the towel the whole time. He seems to have been right. People don’t even just ignore her. They smile and greet her as if she is just another regular person on this bizarrely accepting planet. She doesn’t see any giant beetle people, but a few who look decidedly unhuman. A lot of animals, but also alien-like beings that don’t match to something that ever existed on Earth. She’s starting to feel more comfortable here, like she can actually breathe and live a life. 

After only a few hours, they have made it to a dome that’s just called Capital. They enter a gorgeous woman’s office, who holds her hand out, sporting a very kind smile. “Hi. I’m Deputy Superintendent Yunil Tereth. I hear you would like to stay unregistered. Why don’t you have a seat?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 16, 2529

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The team stayed on Jaunemus the rest of the day, eating the local cuisine, and recharging their photovoltaics by the star that they were orbiting right now. This moon was a gargantuan spaceship, which could move through space at will. The Jaunemusians couldn’t travel all the way back home to Verdemus to eat lunch with their friends every day, but they didn’t have to stay in one place either. They bounced around the nearest stars in this area, and spent a lot of time in interstellar space to avoid detection.

There was nothing for Team Matic here, so they decided to bug out. “We have to get back to Proxima Doma,” Angela suggested. “We have to find out what happened there, if anything.”

“I thought we were going after Miracle,” Ramses countered.

“That trail has gone cold,” Marie figured. “She has had a whole year to get those cuffs off.”

Leona chuckled. “She has not been able to get them off. They’re held together by a distributive bond. Breaking them would cause her to explode, and I’m the only one with a key.”

They all looked to Ramses for confirmation. He nodded. That was how their EmergentSuits worked. It was how they could be so thin, yet so durable, and protective against harsh environments, like the vacuum of outer space.

“There’s still the question of where she is,” Olimpia tried to remind them. “She could have gone anywhere. I’m guessing the quantum connection doesn’t extend this far.”

“Even I have my limits,” Ramses admitted. “But your husband doesn’t.”

“Me?” Mateo questioned. “If I can find her, why didn’t we do that yesterday?”

“We all needed a break,” Leona explained, “especially you. As I was saying, those cuffs aren’t going anywhere. There was no need to rush off, and besides, I don’t like traveling with low slingdrives. Mateo, your dark particles are the backup, not the other way around.”

“All right,” Mateo agreed. “I’ll use my black magic for a locator spell.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Romana said. No, it wasn’t Romana, but Miracle. She was holding her arms in front of her chest, like a beggar. “Get them off of me, and I’ll agree to transfer to a new substrate. It doesn’t matter anymore. I stole this body because that’s what Pacey asked of me. But I never wanted this.” She sighed, and looked off into a random direction. “I just wan—I just wanted to end him...and his reign of terror.”

The real Romana stepped forward, and placed a comforting hand on Miracle’s shoulder. “You’re not doing this for Pacey, you’re doing it for yourself. You’re from the Goldilocks Corridor.”

Miracle sighed again. “My name isn’t really Miracle. It’s just Mirinda. Mirinda...Oaksent.” They didn’t know exactly what that meant. In modern times, you couldn’t guess someone’s relationship to someone else based on their appearance. They could look 50 years older, but be 200 years younger. She giggled. “You’re all waiting for the clarification before judgment. That’s quite magnanimous of you. I’m his daughter. I’ve been that way for millennia. You see, all those people out here in the Corridor, they are his subjects...his toys. He built them to serve, and to adore him. But the problem with that is they were indoctrinated into belief from birth. Ignorance is the killer. I mean, you showed one person the truth about Earth, and an entire opposing faction spread out from it, which is what he’s always been afraid of. Sycophants who don’t know any better aren’t very satisfying either way. He wanted a group of people who loved him because that’s what they were supposed to do. He wanted a family. He made us just like he made the others, but he made us immortal, just like him. He didn’t really raise us, but we got more face time with him than most, so I suppose he figured that was enough.

“I grew to resent him, of course, which is how we ended up here. In defiance of his plan to curate a family of superhumans, I started fighting back violently. I killed all of my clones, as well as my brothers and sisters’ clones. I didn’t kill them too, but they eventually died, and there was nowhere for their consciousnesses to go. Oaksent doesn’t like virtual simulations, I don’t know why, so there’s no uploading to a central server. There’s just backup bodies. I was just about to kill my own final clone when Pacey found me. He made me realize that Bronach never cared about any of us, which was why he made almost no attempt to stop me. His plans didn’t work. He’s not a likeable guy, and if he didn’t force adoration through ignorance, it wasn’t going to happen. All of his children loathed him. I’m just the only one who wanted to do anything about it. Pacey promised that he could kill my father. He promised to find a way. You were supposed to be that way, but what he didn’t tell me was that you always look for the peaceful resolution. Your ship was literally called the Vellani Ambassador. I’ve been trying to get you to change, but if I thought that anyone could do that, I would never have let my siblings die. I would have tried to call them to action. I believe that I’ve just been trying to replace them...with you.”

Leona stepped forward, and gently held Miracle’s wrists in her hands. It looked like she was about to remove the cuffs from her. “Obligation.”

“Yeah,” Miracle said with a nod. “Wait, what?”

“It’s a movie, about a sibling rivalry that goes too far. The motif throughout is Nazca boobies, which are known for killing their siblings.”

“Oh, I guess that’s kind of similar,” Miracle agreed.

“No, it’s almost the exact same premise. What you just described here, killing off your siblings to drain the parents’ of their power, and their legacy...that is the plot of Obligation. That never happened to you.”

“Well, I hardly think that’s a unique situation. I mean, I’m sure—wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” she screamed when Leona started to lift her arms up. “You don’t have to do this! Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay! I’ll help you! I’ll switch sides! Just don’t make me transfer out of this body.”

This was such a weird freak out. What was she so afraid of? Why did she not want to transfer to a new substrate? It wasn’t like the processes hurt, or anything. It just felt like going to sleep, and waking up in a different room after surgery. It could be disorienting, but that went away, and relatively quickly. Why did she even ever want Romana’s body if not to parade around as Romana, and give her a bad reputation? They should have asked this as soon as Miracle agreed to keep it. They shouldn’t have been so trusting of her. They won’t make that mistake again.

“Please don’t, please don’t! Miracle continued to beg.

Leona suddenly broke the cuffs apart, and let the nanites recede into her implants. “There you go.”

“You’re setting me free?” Miracle asked, shocked.

“I don’t want us to be enemies anymore. It doesn’t come for free, though. I want you to take us to Pacey. We need to have a talk with him. I’m sick of going through his little minions. It’s inefficient at best.”

Yeah, sure,” Miracle said, stepping away and rubbing her wrists. Déjà vu, this was basically what she looked like yesterday, just before escaping through a black hole portal. “I just need to, uh...speak with him first. I’ll be right back!” Still reminiscent of just yesterday, she fell through a portal, which closed up behind her immediately. And it wasn’t going to reopen.

“Why did you do that?” Olimpia asked her wife.

“She ruined our plans,” Ramses answered for Leona. “Miracle was supposed to lead us to Pacey, not come back here. Matty?”

“Okay,” Mateo said. Gather ‘round.” They huddled in a group, and let Mateo generate a swarm of dark particles to overwhelm them. It was a pretty weak showing, though. There weren’t very many of them. “I think we’re trying too soon! I can’t pull enough out,” he warned. “It took too much to get us to the Fifth Division!”

“That’s okay,” Ramses shouted back. “Just build a bridge! The slingdrives will take us the rest of the way!”

Mateo didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but his intuition told him to spread the dark particles thin, so they reached far enough out to their destination without being wide enough for a group of seven people to cross over with them. They then activated their slingdrives, and used the signal to navigate them to the right destination. The technicolors came and went, and they found themselves in a familiar place. This was the room they went to before they were knocked unconscious, and inserted into the Underburg simulation with false memories. The place was empty back then, but not this time. Miracle was there, as were Octavia, Pacey, and some other woman. He seemed to like the ladies. He wasn’t happy right now, though.

Miracle’s eyes widened in fear as she stared at the team. She looked over at her boss. “I’m sorry. They took the cuffs off! You said I could come back if they took the cuffs off!”

“We never needed the cuffs, you idiot,” Ramses argued. “He can find anyone in the universe.” He jerked his head towards Mateo.”

“Not with my shielding,” Pacey contended. “There must be something else.”

“Nanites are very smol,” Leona said to him. “They could be on you, without you even knowing it. We never needed the cuffs,” she echoed Ramses.

“You tracked me, like an animal,” Miracle spat.

“You’re a murderer. Which one is worse?”

“Who said I murdered anybody?”

“So you were lying.”

“Enough,” Pacey interrupted. “You obviously came here to talk, so let’s talk. Leave my girls out of it.”

“Mr. Henricksen, again, I’m so—” Miracle tried to apologize.

He held up a commanding hand. “We’ll talk about it later. You both can go now.”

Miracle left, as did Octavia, having never said a word. Miracle was annoying, but an opposing force. Octavia still felt like a betrayal. They wanted to talk to her again too, but on a personal level. Today was about business. The mysterious other woman stayed. She didn’t lurch or hesitate. She knew from the start that he wasn’t ordering her to do anything. If this were an action movie, she would be the one in charge here, and all of their previous dealings were with her henchman or lieutenant, who was only pretending to be in charge. But this wasn’t a movie, was it? Was it? It was a movie before, under the dome. It could certainly be that again, or worse...still.

“I understand that you have reservations about fulfilling the mission,” Pacey began, getting himself comfortable in an arm chair while the woman sat next to him in a hardback.

“That’s an understatement,” Leona said. “We’re not doing it. We don’t need higher compensation, or incentive. We don’t need you to explain why you think we should do it. It’s just not happening. We don’t care if you agree or not. We don’t care what you want or know at all. It’s. Not. Happening. If you have some kind of Plan B, which doesn’t involve us, then I suggest you move forward with it. We’re not interested, and we never were. Why don’t you make like a snowflake, and let it go?”

“I don’t know what that means, but I want you to know that I’m listening, and I hear you. I won’t make you do anything that you don’t wanna do.” He seemed proud of himself for the response, which meant that it was a trick. It probably had something to do with the woman next to him.

They all realized that this wasn’t actually going their way, and it felt exhausting. Mateo stopped forward and placed his hand upon Leona’s chest. He gently nudged her backwards in the direction of the team. “It’s all right. I got this.” He took another step forward, but more towards the stranger. “Who are you? What is your stake in this?”

The woman looked over to Pacey, not for guidance, but more like they were having an unspoken conversation with each other. She lifted her eyebrows to ask a question. He shrugged like the answer was maybe. She pointed at him, and lifted her brows again. He shrugged again, but this time, more as if to say, yeah, fine. They made a couple of other gestures towards each other, all basically implying that they were relenting to the team’s demands, but really, it was impossible to know for sure what they were saying. In fact, they could have been in the middle of an actual psychic conversation. Finally, after Pacey said, “okay” out loud, the woman took a breath, and leaned back in her chair. “I was admittedly hurt when I first heard the term Team Kadiar.”

“No,” Mateo said.

“I felt left out,” the woman went on.

“No,” Mateo said louder. It couldn’t be.

“Yes, it’s true, father. I’m your fourth daughter. Or should I say...your first. His name isn’t Pacey. It’s Séarlas. And I am Franka.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 15, 2528

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The tree light receded. They were now standing outside. The ground beneath them was yellowish, there was no apparent atmosphere, and they felt very light. It was probably an uninhabitable moon. There was a massive structure before them, maybe four or five kilometers away. Leona checked her watch interface. “August 15, 2528.”

Ramses knelt down, and scanned the surface with his sensor suite. “Sulfur and sulfur dioxide, also silica. We got some pyroxene and feldspar. That explains the yellow.” He stood back up. “I believe that we are on the rogue moon of Jaunemus.”

They didn’t know much about this world. It once orbited the planet of Verdemus, but was transported to the Goldilocks Corridor, and used as a staging ground for the Verdemusian Corps. They lived and trained here when they weren’t on the Anatol Klugman warship. The team looked around, and couldn’t find Miracle Brighton anywhere, nor Adult!Dilara. They were dispatched, not ferried, or perhaps the other two had just moved on, since it had been a full two years since the team was last in the present day.

The Jaunemusians seemed like all right people. They were warmongers, sure, but not Klingons. They didn’t want to fight simply for the sake of it. They felt a duty to protect their home planet from the Exin Empire, and decided to take an offensive strategy, instead of a defensive one, since Verdemus was still in hiding, much like Castlebourne now. According to their military mandate, the fighters on this moon didn’t have much interest in fixing the Goldilocks Corridor. They just calculated that the only way to prevent the Exins from spreading beyond it were to put an end to it altogether. It was unclear how they felt about Earth, the rest of the closer regions, or Team Matic. According to Core World conventions, this whole part of the galaxy belonged to what they called the Borderworlds. It was technically too specific of a term to use for it, however. It was only called that because it covered all systems between 14,000 and 28,000 light years from Earth. On the other side of the Milky Way, that referred to systems that were literally on the edge. In this direction, though, they were still in the middle.

“Drive check!” Olimpia announced as she looked down at her wrist band. “Whew, I’m in the red. Anyone else have a better gauge?”

They all shook their heads. It took an enormous amount of power for them to send the entire Oblivion tower to another reality in the past. That wasn’t even that long ago for them. It would be a while until their slingdrives recharged. They might as well pop in to see how the Jaunemusians were doing lately. They teleported to an airlock that appeared welcoming enough, and knocked on the door. There was a doorbell, but it looked like it was only meant for emergencies. Hopefully the sound would travel through the structure well enough for someone to hear. They stood there for a few minutes before a face appeared in the viewport. Hm. No cameras? Or were there, and he just wanted to get a look for himself? They waved at him with smiles.

The man went away, and then the airlock door opened. They let their suits collapse before the airlock was fully pressurized again. The man was still watching them, from the observation chamber now. Another man entered the room behind him with an air of authority, so the first one opened the next door for him. “Greetings, Team Matic. My name is Anatol Klugman.”

“No, it isn’t,” Mateo said, being unable to stop himself.

The man winced. “I may not have been born with the name, but I earned it.”

“Forgive him,” Leona mediated. “It’s just that we know the man who serves as the namesake for your warship. You’re obviously not him, it’s just a little jarring to hear.”

“Ah, yes.” Fake!Anatol nodded. “It’s easy to forget that the ship was named after a man. I am named after the ship. And when I retire, a new Anatol will be selected to take my place. There are others like me even now.”

“Are you connected to your vessel?” Ramses asked him, fascinated. “Do you control it with your mind?”

Fake!Anatol considered the words. “It’s more like I instruct it with my mind. The crew has to carry out the orders, and could theoretically refuse them. Right now, my second has the reins. The human brain cannot handle the interface for too long, so the link changes hands regularly.” His gaze shifted to Romana. “I’m guessing that you’re here in search of your sister? I can take you to her.”

“That is not my sister,” Romana said, her blood boiling. “She is an impostor.”

“Oh. She said her name was Miracle Brighton.”

“Oh, well that’s her name,” Mateo explained, “but she stole my daughter’s body. Well, she stole one of them. The extra one.”

Fake!Anatol lifted his chin as he absorbed the information. “I see. We might be able to help with that. We are...pretty good at cloning here.” That was how this army began. Omega Strong cloned himself thousands of times, but he didn’t use the exact same code. Each clone was slightly different than the one before it. Despite ultimately being born of a single source, the population was almost as diverse as any other of comparable magnitude, thanks to this intentional genetic drift. That was a long time ago. This man would be a descendant of the original generation, now many generations removed.

“It wasn’t technically theft,” Romana explained, “but more of a con. She has legal claim to that substrate. If we were to move her to a different one, she would have to consent.”

“If she does, we can arrange that,” Fake!Anatol offered. “Do you still want me to take you to her?”

“Yes, please,” Mateo confirmed.

They followed him down the corridors until they reached a common area of couches, tables, and other basic amenities, like you would find in a hipster apartment complex. Fake!Anatol stopped when he noticed Miracle sitting in a comfy chair with a good book, and a cup of tea. She, of course, knew when they would be returning to the timestream, so she was not surprised to see them. She dogeared the page she was on, and snapped it shut. “Thank you all for coming. And thank you, Mister Klugman, for bringing them to me. You can go now.”

Fake!Anatol looked awkwardly at the team, not sure if he should do what she said, or accept their guidance, or do whatever the hell he wanted.

“Please, sir, could you show me your neural interface?” Ramses requested. “I would much like to learn about it, if at all possible. This conversation is going to become uncomfortable, and I don’t need to be here.”

Romana stepped forward, between the team and the antagonist after Ramses and Fake!Anatol departed. “Thank you for not using my name,” she said to her doppelgänger

“I prefer mine.”

“I wouldn’t,” Romana mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I am as appreciative as my daughter,” Mateo said, also now stepping forward. “We would like to ask you, what is your plan here? What do you think we’re going to do for you?”

“You’re going to find a way to kill the unkillable,” Miracle answered plainly.

“If you want him dead, why don’t you just do it? You, Pacey, and Octavia seem intelligent enough. Why are you trying to make us do your dirty work?”

Miracle bit her lip.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Olimpia posed. “She thinks we’re untouchable. If his sycophants come after us for it, not only will it keep their hands clean, but she thinks we’ll survive it anyway...because we always do.”

“Or she’s counting on us not surviving this time,” Marie countered. “Because if the Exin loyalists interrogate us, we’ll be able to link her to it.”

“Lots of people know I’m here,” Miracle argued. “Word will get out that I’m involved, I don’t care.”

Mateo shook his head. “Word might get out that a woman who looks like Romana, and goes by the ridiculously made-up name of Miracle, is involved. Not very strong evidence that it has anything to do with Pacey. I’m not even sure if anyone besides us, and his sycophants, knows that he exists. We’re the only ones who have interacted with him, to our knowledge. He’s Snuffleupagus.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Miracle said.

Their armbands beeped at the same time, alerting them that their slingdrives had charged up to Orange. “We won’t do what you ask,” she contended. “We won’t kill him, and we will no longer interfere with these people’s lives unless we decide that it’s necessary, and we will also decide when that is, and what that means.”

“Those things can’t save you,” Miracle claimed. “We’re like Arcadia Preston. We can just keep bringing you back here. You have to remember that Pacey is the one who invented the—what do you call it—slingdrive technology, not your precious little Gyppo.”

Mateo tensed up, and leaned in closer. “Do not..ever say that.”

“Sorry, that was too far, I’m just trying to remind you that you took quintessence from Pacey. He has every right to dictate what you do with it.”

She wasn’t getting it. It was irrelevant how long they had to wait to sling again. This was a perfect example of you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. If she kept dropping them here, they would keep escaping, or just doing nothing. Even if their slingdrives weren’t ready to go again, they didn’t have to do anything they didn’t want to. She only had the power to move them places, not control their actions. If she could do that, why would she need them at all? “It doesn’t matter, we’re not doing it,” Angela reiterated.

Miracle finally stood. She sighed. “Miss Nieman is the youngest in your group, and for that reason, she will be spared. The Oaksent doesn’t see her as a threat, and I think he may have a little thing for her. He has instructed his minions to spare her, should they encounter Team Matic, and find a way to end the rest of you without hurting her. If you don’t kill him, Romana will be the one to do it, if you get my meaning. She won’t be safe anymore. She will be the primary target.”

Leona smiled.

Miracle was confused. “What? What just happened? Why are you so excited?”

The others weren’t excited, it was just Leona. She reached out, and took hold of both of Miracle’s wrists. She instructed her nanites to construct handcuffs around them. “You just gave me permission to remove you from that substrate.”

“How’s that now?” Miracle questioned.

“You just admitted to making plans to commit a crime using a substrate that will implicate a different individual of said crime. That gives me everything I need to get you out of it, and reclaim the substrate to protect the world from you who would abuse her power in it.”

“I was just speaking in hypotheticals, I didn’t say anything,” Miracle insisted. “Plus, I was so vague.”

“We all heard what we heard, and I’m sure that camera caught it too.” Leona pointed up at the security cam. “Besides, at worst, it places us in a stalemate. You can’t actually commit the crime any more than you can admit to the conspiracy of it. If you go through with the plan, we’ll show that footage to the Exins. They have similar cloning laws internally. Harsher ones, in fact. Your safest course of action is to leave that body, and move on with your life without it. Romana is damaged goods.”

Miracle was flustered. She backed up a little, and tried to pull the cuffs apart through brute force. “I have an exit strategy. These can’t keep me here.”

“We can track you wherever you go. Their friends can, anyway,” Leona added, referring to the nanites that she was still using herself.

Their armbands beeped. They were now in the Yellow.

“Not if I figure out how to get them off first!” Miracle shouted. A black hole appeared underneath her feet, and she fell right through it.

“What if she does it?” Angela asked. “What if she just goes off to kill Bronach before we have the chance to find her, and remove her from that substrate?”

“She doesn’t know how,” Leona believed. “She was bluffing entirely. She called him unkillable, because they also need us to find the killswitch that will prevent him from coming back to life, however exactly he does it. We’re known for finding loopholes, and Team Pacey is betting on us finding this one too. There’s more than one reason they chose us.”

“What do we do?” Mateo asked her.

“Today, we rest. I don’t think we’re gonna be able to sling again until next year.”

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