Chapter 8

Divisions Amongst Orcish Subspecies - By Tejathal Athul

Social identity is very important for a civilization to flourish.

This is especially true in the present Age where the free exchange of information has made the Planes so much smaller. People find their identities based on which circles they find commonalities with. It is through these groups and identities that our civilizations are able to flourish and grow. Marginalized traits that might be considered taboo or unsightly could be a lynch pin to unite individuals and bring their struggles to light. Similarly, it can also be a way to bring new perspectives to popular hobbies or activities.

Unfortunately, it is also through these identities that we societal divisions are created. No matter how much we tell ourselves that we are this evolved and cerebral species, deep down, there is this instinct that tells us that ‘that person doesn’t look like me and must be dangerous’. One only need to look at the history or racism across the Planes to find evidence of this. Wars have been started over less and to this day, riots and protests arise based on racial tensions.

Orcs are no exception.

Despite being scientifically and historically proven to have originated in the Central Material Plane, there are claims that Orcs come from other Planes and are not native to the CMP. Research have been conducted on this topic and there are even proponents of the theory that residual energies from the Savage Lands seeped into the CMP, influencing human evolution and thus created Orcs. Time and again, this theory has been disproved on the basis that primitive Orcish tribes were found in areas that have no relation toany gateways to the Savage Lands. Yet it, like many other theories attempting to rewrite Orcish origins, such theories are damaging to Orcish civilization, history and society as a whole.

One just need to look into the many supposed subspecies of Orcs and how they are are causing divisions amongst Orcs. Barring the varied colors of Orcish skin which can already be a basis of discrimination, there is an ongoing debate about which species across the realms are genuinely descended or related to Orcs and which are not.

Take, for example, the Priapans or Zauroks. Both have been historically proven to be related to Orcs. We have testaments from long-lived beings that their intervention across history actually developed these two subspecies of Orcs. Orcs that moved to other Planes and have their very genetic makeup modified due to the Planar energies are irrefutably linked to a single Orcish ancestry.

The topic becomes more muddied when considering species that currently have no direct link to Orcish blood but have similar features. There is a preconception amongst the Planes that anything that has large tusks jutting out from her lower jaw is related to an Orc but that is not always the case.

Let us look at the Minotlites. They are more closely related to Lava Elementals than Orcs. In fact, their bovine appearances are reminiscent of Minotaurs. However, because they developed large tusks which they use for excavating through the hard mantle and crust of the CMP, they have often been lumped with Orcs. There is currently no evidence to suggest that Minotlites are, in any way, related to Orcs. In fact, Minotlites, being a monogendered species, are incapable of interbreeding with any other species which would make any sort of crossbreeding event between them and a distant Orc ancestor impossible. The ‘semen’ that they produce is incompatible with any other species and can only be used in the raw Minotlite mass in their breeding pools to create other Minotlites.

Then there is the other side of the spectrum where Orcs who clearly have shared ancestry with other Orcs are rejected and segregated into their own subspecies because of public opinion. Cyborks are the prime example of this. Despite being Orcs who have moved to Singularity or the Mechanism and partaken in cybernetic enhancements, they have been branded their own subspecies moniker. This is on par with individuals finding an identity based on their city, suburb or particular movie star that they have some commonality with and forming a community around that particular topic.

Ordinarily, this is not problematic and can even be encouraged as it created a sense of belonging. However, when people become violent against the subculture and start ostracizing them based on something as superficial as the number of nanobots in their bloodstream, we start crossing the line between differences between communities and racism.

The term ‘Cybork’ was originally developed as a derogatory term but eventually became its own identity. Cyborks consider themselves superior to other Orc species and even other species that are ‘vaguely’ Orcish. At the same time, other Orcs consider Cyborks unnatural, aloof and condescending.

This results in a community that should be celebrating its common backgrounds of having tusks being polarized towards two extremes - the species that are accepted as Orcs and those that are not ‘Orcish enough’.

There are no solutions to this conundrum as it is through this sort of mentality that society has developed and gotten as far as it has.

The curse of intelligence, one could call it.

I will, however, leave you today with one question: How far will this use of our intelligence get us?

Chapter 8 - A Smile from an Orc

A sense of dread and gravitas hung in the courtroom.

Judge Carter Steelwheel sat quietly behind the protective runes and glass of his podium. The silvery Ironborne regarded the gathered individuals in his court room. His eyes settled upon Knight who, despite being a member of the Sanctuary City Police Department, was seated on the left - the defendant’s side. The suit that Knight wore felt constricting and tight. Though, as a detective, he had taken up the stand multiple times and his work had been called into question more than once, this was the first time in a long time that he genuinely felt nervous.

Their arrest of Uraprik and exposure of the Green Hand Movement was already making waves. Barely a day has passed and already there were rumors about Tyson being some sort of highly connected, celebrity back alley surgeon that had dirt on countless high-profile clients. All those clients had pooled their efforts to dismantle GHM by releasing the names of known members and evidence of their terrorist activities.

The blue-furred Elder could not help but marvel at just how the court of public opinion could be swayed. The crime of illegal soul manipulation was grave and up until this point, it would have made for moderate news. Tyson had one or two celebrity clients and his technique was both unorthodox and controversial but it was effective. The fact that it involved sexual gratification immediately brought up rumors about some sort of sex cult. The presence of Devon Theumeister and his connection to the Order of the White Orchid didn’t help matters either.

Regardless of the clear and hard evidence of threats of violence and planned attack upon Sanctuary Citizens, people still found some way to turn it to make it seem like Tyson was the perpetrator. That he was some sort of evil mastermind that had the resources to orchestrate the Ash Hills Police Department suddenly getting a report that the foreman of Primal Foundations was missing. Their subsequent investigations found that Makhel Urag was, in fact, Uraprik of the Green Hand Movement and that Uraprik had not only orchestrated the attack on Casey Harrow’s clinic but had planned many more until Harrow had fled Sanctuary City. His lawsuit against Tyson had been an attempt to get the SCPD off him after Knight had tried to thwart a Delve against him. A thinly veiled attempt to point the blame squarely on Tyson and cast him as the villain.

Not that any of that was relevant in the current case.

“Good morning, everyone,” Judge Steelwheel greeted in his familiar metallic twang. “Today we are hearing the case of the City of Sanctuary City versus Tyson Prowler who stands accused of performing illegal soul manipulation against multiple individuals leading to the complete destruction of their souls and identities.” He swiped at the screens in front of him. “For the record, how does the defendant plead?”

Devon Thaumeister, whose sky-blue suit was the single loudest thing in the otherwise drab, brown courtroom, stood. The Cheshire adjusted the pink tie he wore with shimmering white orchids on it. “Absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt, not guilty, your shiniest of honors.”

“Flattery, while welcome, will get you nowhere, Mr. Thaumeister.”

“Not with you, perhaps.”

Devon winked at the jury box - colloquially called the ‘Black Box’ because all twelve jurors were contained behind a solid black wall. Their features, expressions and overall appearance were hidden in what could only be described as a solid wall of blackness. On their side, they could see everything occurring in the court and there were microscopic cameras buzzing around that enabled them to view everything and everyone from different angles on their court-assigned epitaphs. This was not only to protect their identities but also to protect them from any forms of jury tampering or psychological profiling. Other nations still liked to show their jurors to the defendants and plaintiffs but Sanctuary City added extra precautions. All too often, counsels would adjust their arguments and how they presented themselves to play on a jury’s innate biases.

“Prosecution?” Judge Steelwheel prompted. “Anything to add?”

Virileth Underwood stood. It was quite telling that there was next to no one on her side of the aisles. Those few that occupied the cushioned seats were members of the media who had been allocated to this story or those that hadn’t found room on Tyson’s side. No one from the SCPD was backing her. It was a lonely stance but one that she had to take for her job… and for the sake of justice.

Behind Tyson were a host of supporters. Bert, Torpak, members of the White Orchid and Banchomyon all sat in support for Tyson Prower. There were a few others that Knight could only assume were clients or friends.

“No, your honor,” replied the dark elf curtly. Her eyes drifted towards the Black Box. “Though I would just like to remind the jury that despite what you may have heard in the media leading up to this point, this case does not measure the guilt or intents behind the circumstances that led up to this moment. This trial is to determine if what Tyson Prowler did -”

Devon cleared his throat dramatically and pointed a finger gun Virileth. “I would advise the counsel to please use my client’s correct title. He is a doctor. So that’s Doctor Tyson Prowler.”

Virileth shot him a look of cold annoyance before turning her gaze back towards the jury. “This trial is to determine if what Doctor Tyson Prowler did on the day in question was just or not.”

“Very well.” Judge Steelwheel said, folding his hands together. “I trust that both the prosecution and defense are fully aware how I like to do my trials?”

Bert gently nudged Knight with the back of a knuckle. “What does he mean by that?” he whispered. “Does he have his own laws?”

Knight gave him a little nod and then gently placed a paw over his hand and quickly connected his own nervous system to the Priapan’s. With that connection, he injected years of knowledge working with and around Sanctuary City’s criminal law system into Bert’s mind. He made sure it was in a digestible format and filtered out any of the Elder undertones that could drive any non-Elder mad. It would have been little more than thirty minutes in one of the Learning Centers.

The independence of Sanctuary City was emphasized to Bert which segued into how the City had universally decided that each judge was free to decide how they would conduct their trials as long as it was previously reviewed and accepted by the city’s supreme court. This allowed judges to better streamline their process as well as ensure fair representation. Judges were assigned to cases and it was impossible to ask for a judge to recuse themselves if already assigned. Different judges had to be assigned on appeals but not on any other grounds. It was a system that often saw ridicule and accusations of corruption from other nations as judges could be bought and influenced but it also got rid of a lot of the fluff that could cause the court system to be clogged up and delayed. It also discouraged frivolous lawsuits because it would be impossible to know which judge would be allocated to the case and if a judge didn’t do things one way which acted as a safety net for the defendant, then there was a risk that the case could go south.

All of this was filtered into Bert within the span of less than a second.

The Priapan grimaced and shook his head. Knight lifted a finger to indicate silence and Bert nodded in understanding.

“Yes, your honor,” answered both Devon and Virileth in unison.

“For the benefit of the jury,” said Steelwheel. “I do not accept plea bargaining or preliminary hearings in my trials. It is my determination that such things should have been decide before coming to my desk. Conversely, I do not accept pre-trial motions. Any evidence either party has accumulated should and will be presented without some legal gymnastics that would cause them to be null and void. By court is a court of law and not a theater. Such negotiations should have been done before coming to me. All charges were determined during the formal filing. They are locked in. The burden of proof rests with the prosecution and the onus sits with the defense to refute them.”

Bert glanced at Knight again who bobbed his head in agreement. This was why Virileth compressed her charges to just the illegal soul manipulation and its effects. Evidence for the rest were nebulous at best and likely not to earn any brownie points with the jury or Judge Steelwheel. So far, it seemed quite fair.

“You have been selected and volunteered your time for these proceedings,” continued Steelwheel. “I thank you for your time. I want this trial to proceed as quickly as possible so as not to consume more of your precious time. Therefore, I also do not tolerate any sort of jury selection. You have already made your way here. I see no reason to ask you to go home after hours of waiting around.”

The Ironborne straightened. “We will begin with opening statements and then both sides will present their evidence including their witnesses. Then we will proceed with closing arguments. Once all of these are done, the jury will be asked to perform their duty and deliberate on the charges.” The Judge lifted a hand. “I will note that I also personally keep a score on the performance of our counsels. Should I deem your argument to be manipulative, irrelevant or your conduct to be unfitting of my court, you will receive a demerit. While these demerits have no standing in guilt, I will be using this to keep track of the sentence. Is that clear?”

Again, both Virileth and Devon responded with a clear, ‘Yes, Your Honor’.

“Good. Now let us proceed with opening statements. Prosecution?”

Virileth Underwood stepped out from behind her table and presented herself to the court. Her curt, crisp tone was professional, clear and icy. It was… unwelcoming. Which Knight knew was a ploy. If the DA wanted the jury to sympathize with her, she would have worn something warmer or softer. As it stood, the steel-like suit she wore and her rigid posture made her look like a bullet.

Knight had to wonder if this was intentional to make her less approachable or sympathetic to the jury.

“Tyson Prowler committed one of the most heinous acts across the Planes,” Virileth said suddenly, her voice like a knife. “An act that has been universally been decreed as one of only four unforgivable acts that, if ever convicted, guarantees the most extreme punishment as allowed by the law of the land.”

She held up one finger. “Malicious and disruptive time travel is one.”

Then she held up another. “Infectious and non-consensual loss of free will.”

Her voice dipped to a whisper as she held up a third finger. “Silentium Mundi.”

The weight in the room suddenly became so much heavier. Murmurs were heard from the gallery and Torpak, who likely had no idea what the Four Cardinal Sins were looked visibly disturbed. Bert, who had at least a middle-school education by now, paled and clutched Knight tightly. Banchomyon, who sat beside him, wrapped an arm around the Priapan and held him tightly.

Knight’s gaze narrowed at the DA. He had been wrong. The cold, unfeeling persona she had adapted was not some way to make her appear distant to the jury maybe as some form of mercy to give Devon a chance to play on their emotions.

No.

It was a means to emphasize the gravity of the situation and the crime placed upon Tyson.

“And lastly…” Virileth announced, spinning around to point her last finger at Tyson. “Illegal soul manipulation which Sanctuary City is accusing Doctor Prowler of.” She didn’t hold that stance for long as she quickly moved back towards her desk. “Understand that my office does not make this accusation lightly. As one of the Four Cardinal Sins, such an accusation is potentially damaging not only to the defendant but also to the department that would put this before the courts only to lose.”

Something about those words struck Knight as strange.

Why openly admit that losing the case could have repercussions for her and her department?

Why even mention the possibility of losing at all?

Virileth sat back down on her desk. “I intend to prove that Doctor Prowler committed this sin and that he gets the punishment he deserves.”

Again, something about that struck him as weird. The District Attorney didn’t mention what that punishment was. Normally, she would make that clear so that the jury would know exactly what they were condemning a soul to. It would weigh on their souls and played a part in their deliberations. Would the punishment fit the crime?

And yet… she omitted that.

“What is going on…?” he whispered softly.

Bert gave him a puzzled look but any questions was interrupted by Devon’s flamboyancy.

“Your Honor,” exclaimed Devon, rising from his seat with a flourish. “Members of the jury.” He turned towards Knight and the others, making a point of bowing to them to show off her perky ass. “Audience in the gallery.”

As quickly as he flashed his rear pressed tightly against those sky-blue slacks, he was turning around and facing Steelwheel and the jury. “The prosecution’s accusation is based entirely on the premise that my client performed illegal soul manipulation on the date in question. They are going to present to you circumstantial evidence that, when cobbled together and arranged in a brilliant but completely untrue mosaic of colorful illusions and tangential thinking vaguely hints that my client performed one of the Four Cardinal Sins not once but five times in the span of a few minutes.

“I will refute those claims and prove my client’s innocence.” He once again bowed towards the jury. “I do echo the prosecution’s statement to ignore what you have heard about ongoing investigations against the person and organization that first put this accusation before my client.”

“What?” hissed Torpak, keeping his voice low. “Why would he ask that? Uraprik -”

Knight waved him down to silence. Thankfully, Devon continued uninterrupted.

“The question remains, after all, whether or not my client, used soul manipulation to defend himself from malicious actors that threatened his life. Actors that had already killed so many and were attempting to kidnap a foreign businessman who could not be here for fear of his own life.”

Virileth raised one eyebrow but did not say anything or object.

“I know you will all make the right decision,” concluded Devon. “After all, as the prosecution kindly pointed out, illegal soul manipulation is a very serious crime.”

Then, Devon sat back down.

Now it was time to present evidence.

The prosecution went first. Virileth as well as her assistant presented recordings of what had happened that day. It was hard to refuse video evidence. Devon seemed pleased, however, especially as Virileth showed everything from when Torpak and his goons came charging into the clinic, the kevs trying to defend themselves suddenly convulsing in pain as the Inscription took over all the way up to when Tyson entered them in his liquid form.

“Their souls are broken, Teddy,” he rumbled the Tyson in the recording. “Damaged and redefined to the point that their bodies have changed to reflect it. I need to save them or they will die.”

“Save them after we interrogate them!” Teddy bellowed.

“I will not sacrifice my principles for your payday.”

Then the recording ended.

Something he noticed, however, was any mention of an Inscription was missing.

Other evidence was presented including Tyson’s thesis on how to use pleasure as a means to get a access to the soul and, subsequently, using his intimate knowledge as a Shaper to reshape a person’s body to align with their soul. Virileth even went so far as to provide evidence on the many, many cases of soul-borne diseases that Tyson helped alleviate.

It almost seemed like she had to provide evidence to his ‘crime’ but was secretly trying to provide character witnesses. Virileth brought in the medical examiner who had reviewed Torpak and the processing officers who had to let them go because they were entirely different people from those that attacked the clinic. It puzzled Knight that she hadn’t called any members of Torpak’s family and friends. Even Banchomyon had managed to find Albert Tien’s family after some digging. Surely the SCPD with all of its resources could have called Torpak’s relatives.

Then… it was his turn.

“The prosecution calls Detective Knight Keening to the stand.”

Knight stood from where he sat and made his way to the stand. He was sworn in like he had done many times before and then the questioning began.

“Detective Keening,” began Virileth. “You were present on the day in question, correct? The day when Doctor Tyson Prowler committed the sin of illegal soul manipulation.”

Devon was instantly on his feet. “Objection! Leading the witnesses.”

Steelwheel raised one metallic eyebrow. “On what grounds?”

“We are here to establish whether or not client performed illegal soul manipulation. Lumping confirmation of the witness’ presence at the time with the alleged act inadvertently puts in the record that the witness is providing positive confirmation of the alleged act.”

Once again, Knight was absolutely amazed at just Devon’s skills as a lawyer.

Steelwheel agreed. “I agree. Prosecution, please rephrase your question. That is one demerit against you.”

“Of course.” Virileth nodded respectfully. There was a glint in her eye that suggested this was exactly the outcome she wanted. Was it because he was a cop? “Detective Keening, can confirm that you are the Elder in the shockingly revealing jockstrap in the recording.”

Knight immediately let out a soft whimper and he had to actively fight to keep his ears from folding back in embarrassment. Someone let out a little snicker but he wasn’t sure if it came from the Jury or Tyson. Devon was peering at the holographic display showing the recording intently.

“I -” He cleared his throat. “Yes. That is me.”

“Could you provide us the reason for why you were at Casey Harrow’s clinic at the time?”

He wanted to object and ask about the relevance of the question but when Devon didn’t say something, he let it go. “I was investigating a credible threat against Casey Harrow’s life and the lives of his employees. The Green Hand Movement had been increasing the intensity of their propaganda against Harrow’s business. In the interest of public safety, I though it wise to ask him directly.”

“And why did you remain in that conference room when the attack happened? Why did you choose to stand and fight instead of, say, running to the roof and hiding?”

“The roof would have had little places to hide and even fewer places to defend ourselves if we were cornered. It would also have been a dead end.” Mentally, he was grateful he remembered Teddy’s assessment at the time. “It would not have taken much for the assailants to catch up with us.”

“Would you say you were suitably equipped against the threat?”

Knight shook his head. “No. We were dealing with a group of hostiles who had an In -”

Devon suddenly sneezed, interrupting Knight.

“Apologies,” laughed the Cheshire, waving a hand over his face. “Allergies. Continue.”

In that moment, between the flicks of his wrist, Knight caught a look in Devon’s feline eyes. He glanced over to Virileth. There was the faintest tilt of her head towards the Cheshire.

Message clear: do not mention anything about the Inscriptions.

Something else was going on here but, at the same time, it made defending Tyson even more difficult. If they couldn’t justify his actions or even put the blame on the Inscriptions, how would they prove his innocence or at least get him off on a lighter sentence?

He glanced over at the Monster Maker. It warmed his heart a little that Tyson was starting to regain his leonine form. Fur was starting to sprout over Tyson’s body and his mane was starting to grow back in. His tusks were similarly shrinking too.

The feeling was fleeting, however, as he turned back to Virileth.

“As I was saying. We were dealing with a lot of unknowns at the time. The hostiles had some sort of insider knowledge. They made a beeline for the third floor. They knew where Harrow was. It was only on the third floor when they started searching from room to room. It’s a big building too. If they were genuinely searching for Harrow without knowledge, you would do a floor-to-floor search but they just went up.” He pointed upwards to emphasize his point. “Not to mention they had some sort of protective magic that made it impossible to defend against them without suffering some sort of counterattack.”

“Can you describe the effects of this defensive magic you’ve mentioned?” Virileth pressed.

Describe the magic. Not tell the jury what it was. Describe the effects.

The wording there was key. Knight had been into enough courtrooms to know that was intentional.

“From all appearances, any sort of hostile action against the individual benefiting from the spell would suddenly have a poison or venom appear in their bloodstreams. It would lead to the victim’s painful and slow death. I believe over half-a-dozen people already died of the effects before paramedics could get on site.”

Virileth then turned, holding up what appeared to be a coroner’s report. “I hold in my hand autopsy and toxicology reports of those that perished from the venom as well as those that managed to survive. I submit this to the court and the jury.” She handed the epitaph to the judge who perused it and then copied the information so that it was submitted into the court record for the jury to review at their leisure. “The poison in question is an unidentified nerve agent of some sort designed to inflict the maximum amount of pain while simultaneously destroying vital organs. The toxin is enchanted to direct its path to avoid the brain so that the victims are fully conscious for as long as possible before succumbing to the effects. Thankfully, it is easily neutralized once identified and because it acts so slowly, it is not an immediate death sentence. The seven men and women who succumbed to the agent, however, were those that were infected with it early on in the raid before help could arrive.”

Virileth then turned back to Knight. “Can you describe what happened when the Green Hand Movement agents barged into Casey Harrow’s office?”

There was that word again. ‘Describe’. Not tell them what happened based on his interpretation. Describe.

“The GHM goons charged in and declared that they wanted Casey Harrow,” explained Knight. His eyes drifted to Tyson, holding the Monster Maker’s gaze. “They actually tried to coax us into attacking them. Try to trigger their defensive spell. When that didn’t work, they boasted about what it could do. Told us outright that if we attacked them with any hostile intent, the spell would trigger and we were likely to die. That kept us from firing our weapons. Then they stated they just wanted Harrow and made it obvious that the were going to just walk up and kidnap him.

“Doctor Prowler successfully deduced that the keyword was the ‘hostile’ intent. If, however, he incapacitated them without the intention of harming them, he would not be affected by the spell.”

“Is it correct,” Virileth said suddenly, “that as a member of the Elder race, you are in a unique position of manipulating and modifying your own cells on the fly?”

Knight’s brow furrowed. “Yes…”

“Would it be a safe assumption that given you had stripped yourself to your underwear, there was no way Doctor Prowler could have interpreted you as a member of any other race?”

Devon was back at his feet. “Objection! Relevance!”

“I’m getting to that, Your Honor,” Virileth pleaded gently.

“Get there faster, counsel,” warned Steelwheel. He then turned to Knight. “Answer the question, detective.”

“Yes,” Knight responded warily, unsure where Virileth was going with this line of questioning. “I have little doubt that, at the time, Doctor Prowler could not have mistaken me for any other species.”

“Then, given Doctor Prowler’s aptitude and intelligence, would it not have been reasonable to assume that you could have attacked the Orcs and then used your ability to modify your own cells to resist or outright neutralize the toxin?”

Knight’s heart froze. Now he was wondering exactly whose side Virileth was on. This was a very valid point but it was clearly a point against Tyson. Why would she bring this up if she wanted ensure Tyson was found not guilty? Unless… that was never her intention.

“Objection!” bellowed Devon, again rising to his feet. “Conjecture! How could Detective Keening possibly know what my client was thinking or what my client knew?”

Steelwheel banged the gavel. “Sustained. Stick to the facts, Ms. Underwood. Another demerit.”

“Withdrawn,” answered Virileth calmly. “Detective Keening, please continue your testimony. What happened after Doctor Prowler interpreted the GHM Orcs’ abilities?”

Knight described with a very flat and monotone delivery how Tyson liquefied himself using his known techniques and inserted himself into Torpak. From there, he could only describe how the Orc fell to the ground, convulsed and began to transform. After the transformation which ended with an explosive orgasm, Tyson then moved to attack the other Orcs while both Knight and Teddy realized that if they made moves that could hinder the Orcs but never directly attack them, they could help.

“So what you are saying is that it was entirely possible to stop the assault without destroying the souls of the assailants.”

Devon was already getting up to object again but Knight slammed his hands against the podium. “That is not what I am saying.”

“But you just said that both you and the Delver were able to hamper the progress of the Orcs without using the same technique that Doctor Prowler used,” countered Virileth. “Therefore, according to the facts, there was more than one way to save Casey Harrow.”

Knight kept his cool, kept himself from growling at his own District Attorney but silently, he was seething. He could not understand what Virileth was getting at or what her goal was.

“Yes…” he rumbled softly.

“No further questions,” Virileth concluded, turning and heading back to her desk. She threw Devon a scorching glance. “Your witness.”

Devon had little more to offer. He, in his usual flowery and exaggerated manner, went over the events of the day but also went over the results of what happened after. How Knight escorted Tyson back to his home, how Tyson was shaken by what he had seen happening in Torpak’s soul and how they mused about GHM’s motives. It seemed like fluff to Knight.

The lupine Elder was released from the witness stand and he made his way back to the gallery. A quick glance at his phone indicated that he could not stay for much longer. Before he took his seat, he shot Tyson and apologetic look. The half-Orc, half-lion-demon replied with a faint but worried smile.

“The prosecution calls Tyson Prowler to the stand,” Virileth said suddenly. As Tyson was about to get up, Devon pulled him back down and cleared his throat dramatically. Virileth rolled her eyes. “I mean, Doctor Tyson Prowler.”

Only then did Devon let the defendant take the stand.

Knight wished he could stay for longer but other matters needed his attention. He stood just as Tyson was being sworn in. As he left, Tyson began his testimony.

The true battle had begun.

❖

“Doctor Prowler,” Virileth Underwood began, standing off against the esteemed Monster Maker. Her visage was like a razor blade. Even many miles away back in his California headquarters and seen through the shimmering visage of a holovid, Casey Harrow could still see how severe and serious the District Attorney for Sanctuary City was taking this case. He personally had never considered that there were other ways to defeat Torpak’s group other than what Prowler had done. Virileth cleverly pointed out that both Theodore Prowler and Knight Keening had managed to hinder two of the Orcs at the time which was evidence that Tyson’s mysterious technique was not the only way to save Harrow or themselves.

“She’s really pushing the angle that what Prowler did would be considered excessive force,” he mused.

A voice emerged from the screen screen to his right spoke. It was garbled and possessing four overlapping tones at once, two male and two female. All four voices were clearly artificially generated but was at least more personal than a robotic voice. “She is trying to establish motive. A good conviction will establish means and motive.”

His brown eyes beneath his heavy brow drifted towards the screen in question. There was only a single image on the screen. The silhouette of a what appeared to be a destitute individual with a begging bowl in front of him.

The Pauper.

“She has partially established motive,” continued the Pauper. “Desperation. Self defense. Her case is predicated on Doctor Prowler’s use of excessive force against the Orcs sent to kidnap you. Now, her task will be to establish the means while securing the rest of Prowler’s motive.”

Harrow leaned back in his seat, his eyes drifting back to the central screen of his three-screen display. “You think she will get a conviction?”

“No.”

He lifted an eyebrow at the blunt statement and glanced back to the Pauper. On the screen, Virileth continued her interrogation.

“Would you kindly describe to us how you use your unique form of animacology to cure your patients?”

The fact that Prowler’s defense lawyer didn’t object was telling. It would have been a pointless objection and Steelwheel made it evident that any frivolous objections would be punished. Prowler described his technique though he had to clarify a few points on Virileth’s prompting. The average person on the streets would not know what a ‘Soul-to-Body Quotient’ was or what the ‘Gilgamesh Thread’ was. Harrow didn’t really pay attention. It was too much technical jargon for him.

Prowler, however, seemed in his element as he gave a thorough explanation of his technique. “The fundamentals of the procedure isn’t to cure any form of soul-borne disease but is more designed to get rid of the disparity between the components of an individual that would cause the disease to progress. There is no cure for soul-borne diseases and conditions. The best I can honestly do as a Shaper is reshape an individual’s body so that they match the damaged soul and therefore prevent the disease from progressing and keeping it from being fatal.”

A little bit of jealousy rose up in Harrow’s gut as Prowler gave examples of diseases his technique could cure. That level of expertise was something Harrow lacked with the procedure that he claimed for his own. Not that it really mattered anymore. Given the success of this entire venture, he would never have to perform the procedure himself. No doubt the OTRP would soar in popularity now that the Green Hand Movement had been identified as a violent terrorist group. He would be vindicated and his name would be across Sanctuary City. The city state would be forced to apologize to him or at least welcome him back with open arms. That would pave the way to the rest of the Planes.

“I see,” the Pauper rumbled.

“What?” Harrow asked. “Something wrong?”

“Depends. If the defense uses Prowler’s testimony to refute the claim of illegal soul manipulation, he might send doubt into the Jury. That Cheshire could claim he did not destroy the soul of Torpak’s group. Posit that all he did was reshape the individual’s body to match the splintering soul as that is not within the scope of his technique.”

A little pit of worry formed in Harrow’s throat. He reached towards the glass of whiskey that he had poured to himself in celebration of this event. This was to be the last act before the curtain fell on this drama. He wanted to celebrate. But now he was getting a little worried. “Surely the jury and judge won’t buy that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? It seems that they have removed any reference to Inscriptions. Not to mention no trace of them remains. They cannot present that as evidence. Since Prowler’s technique only reforges the body, it would make logical sense that he did not damage the soul.”

Harrow’s lips curled in annoyance. Then he took a sip from his whiskey, pausing a moment to let the burning sensation of the brew to slide down his throat. After a quick swallow, he smiled.

“It won’t matter. They have nothing on me or us. The Inscriptions made sure of that.”

The Pauper was silent as Virileth continued her questioning.

“Now that we have the fundamentals of your technique,” continued Virileth, “is it an accurate assertion that your technique grants you unprecedented access to an individual’s soul?”

Again, Devon Thaumeister didn’t object. Now that Harrow had the seed of doubt planted in his mind, he had to wonder if there was some sort of… collusion between the two attorneys. Then again, why would they work together? Especially after that scathing remark the DA made during the Elder Detective’s testimony.

“No,” countered Prowler. “Any good animacologist can access a patient’s soul. We only need to look at Vasthorixus’ Soul Doors to know that there are pre-existing techniques that allows animacologists to step into the metaphysical plane and see an individual’s soul. Where my technique varies from those is that I use pleasure as a conduit into the soul. My thesis and my work proves that when you use a positive experience as a pathway, it is far easier to get to the soul. What you do or see from that point on is standard across every other animacologist.”

“A good defense,” the Pauper quipped. “He has not said that regardless of how he got there, he still has access to the soul and can freely manipulate it. Even if someone were to make that inference, he has defended himself by saying that anyone with the skill and technique can do that.”

It was Harrow’s turn to remain silent.

“But you do have access to the individual’s soul, yes?”

“Objection!” shouted Devon Thaumeister. “Leading the witness.”

The Ironborne judge shook his head. “Overruled. It is a valid question. Answer the question, Doctor Prowler.”

Tyson Prowler nodded. “Correct. I have access to an individual’s soul if I use my technique but it is no more or no less than any Shaper or animacologist.”

“Thank you,” Virileth continued. “Spell it out for us, Doctor Prowler. Exactly what can you do to an individual’s soul with that access.”

Prowler looked uncomfortable stoking the fires of Harrow’s confidence again. The DA knew what she was doing. She was weaving an excellent narrative. There was no way Prowler could escape this question. The means would be established.

“If anyone gains access to the soul, it is very much like stepping across a gateway into another Plane. Primarily, you can see the patient’s soul but without the proper techniques, you would not be able to interpret what it says. Every soul is different, after all, and you need to be able to filter the information assaulting you into something that your brain can interpret. The best way I can describe it is that we see things on a visible light spectrum. Mixtures of red, green and blue. That, however, doesn’t mean that there are colors that are outside of that spectrum. Ultraviolet and infrared for instance. Unless you adjust your vision, you won’t be able to see those.”

The dark elf began to pace towards the Jury. “I see. So let us use another analogy much like your own so we can put it in layman’s terms for myself who has little to no knowledge on the field of animacology.”

“That is a lie,” the Pauper stated. “Virileth Underwood is a dark elf that has lived for over two hundred years. In her long career as a prosecutor, she had dealt with multiple cases of people committing one or more of the Four Cardinal Sins. Her first ever case was that of illegal soul manipulation.”

“You know a lot about her,” Harrow noted.

“Of course. Why do you think I advised you to make sure she was on the prosecution?”

That was a fair statement and one he was glad he took. This DA was ruthless.

“Let us compare this event to surgery,” continued Virileth. “Your technique basically created an incision into the target individual’s internal organs, correct?”

“Objection!” barked Devon. “We already went through this, your honor. We are wasting the court’s time by going in circles.”

“Overruled… by the slightest of margins,” agreed Steelwheel. He eyed Virileth sharply. “Counsel, I agree somewhat with the defense’s argument. We already went through this but I can see you are going somewhere. I advise you hurry along or get to your point.”

“Thank you, your honor,” said Virileth. “Doctor Prowler? Is my assessment correct?

“Yes,” Prowler answered stiffly.

“So now you have access to the internal organs of your patient. With all your equipment, you can use the wonders of medical magic and science to cure the diseases afflicting the patient or even removing cancerous growths, correct? Is that not what some animacologists do to souls stricken by certain soul-borne diseases? In fact, did you not undergo a particular surgery yourself where your soul was removed from your original body and placed into another that better fit your own soul?”

Harrow frowned at that. “Huh… I did not know that.”

“It might be why he is so… malleable and perhaps why he is able to manipulate the Inscriptions the way he can,” the Pauper warned. “While far from the only person to have undergone the procedure, the fact that his soul was displaced coupled with his knowledge of animacology and the technique he performs might be why he is receptive to Inscriptions and able to manipulate it. Would that I could ask him questions directly.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“No. He is of little consequence. Merely a curiosity.”

Doctor Prowler lifted his head slightly. “Yes. Soul surgery is a delicate and dangerous procedure much like any other surgery.”

“And, much like any surgery, the patient is leaving their care in the hands of the surgeon,” continued Virileth. “They are vulnerable. Helpless. It is well within the capacity of the surgeon to cure the patient… or destroy them.”

“Objection!” declared the defense. “Conjecture.”

“Sustained,” Steelwheel agreed, turning back to Virileth. “Is there a question somewhere in there, counsel?”

Virileth was unfazed. It seemed that everything was going her way. Harrow, despite being biased, had to admit that even he was convinced that she was making a very compelling case.

“Of course, your honor.” The Dark Elf regarded Prowler coolly. “Doctor, during the events in question, you said and I quote, ‘Their souls are broken. Damaged and redefined to the point that their bodies have changed to reflect it. I need to save them or they will die.’ What did you mean by that?”

Prowler’s gaze narrowed and he straightened against. “The magic that they were using to protect themselves, this spell that was somehow invoked automatically without any incantations, material components or even somatic movements, was eating away at their soul. I don’t know completely what it was but, it was acting like a parasite. The power it granted was a sort of smokescreen. It gave that power to hide the fact that it was eating away at their very souls, redefining them bit by bit. The longer they had the power, regardless of whether or not they used it. At the time, it was my professional opinion that the magic in question had damaged the original soul it was bound to and I would not know the consequences of prolonged exposure without intervention.”

“Clever,” mused the Pauper. “He did not say anything about the Inscription basically rendering the individual immune to any sorts of soul-borne diseases related to disparity between the physical and metaphysical. Likely did not know about it. He is telling the truth.”

“Is he though?” asked Harrow chortling to himself and lifting the whiskey to his tusked lips. “The Inscription does not damage the soul it is bound to. It changes it. Nothing was ever destroyed.”

“True but note how he said that it had ‘damaged the original soul’. He did not say that it had damaged the soul inhabiting the body of Torpak or the others. Just that the original soul had been damaged. This is true.”

The copper-skinned Orc let out a huff. “A technicality. It won’t save him.”

The Pauper was silent but he could sense a thoughtful introspection in his hidden patron.

“And from this opinion, what did you conclude was the appropriate call to action?”

Prowler paused for a moment before taking a long, deep breath. “People were already dead or dying. I could not let that happen to anyone else so I had to neutralize them. If that meant using my technique to stimulate them into orgasmic bliss until they were no longer responsive, then so be it.”

“Curious.” Harrow glanced towards the Pauper, waiting for the mysterious voice to elaborate. “Perhaps I gave Prowler too much credit.”

“What do you mean?” asked the Orc.

“I was concerned when Torpak and even Albert Tien’s transformations were accelerated to full completion. Ordinarily, only through constant resistance to the Inscription’s definition will the transformation make leaps in progress. It will continue at a gradual rate but only by resisting the Inscription will the change progress faster. You, of all people, should know this.”

Harrow chuckled to himself. “I suppose I do. Makhel was quite the useful tool.”

There was a pause on the Pauper’s side again, like he was considering something. “Indeed. Tien would have been a similarly useful asset. A way to lead the investigation away from you and make the authorities focus on Makhel and the Inscriptions. However, when I learned he had fully transformed mere hours after having been Inscribed, I grew concerned that Tyson Prowler had found some way to manipulate Inscriptions. After your report on the raid against your clinic, I began to consider this a real possibility.”

“You don’t think that’s the case anymore?”

“It is still a faint possibility considering how he has seen them. However, I have just realized that there is another possibility.”

Harrow set down his drink, his focus entirely on the image of the begging man in front of him. “And that is?”

“That Prowler just accidentally triggered the Inscription’s endgame through sheer luck by applying waves upon waves of pleasure.”

“Pleasure?” the Orc repeated. “By making them cum? I find it hard to believe that Torpak and the others didn’t at least masturbate once or twice after having their Inscriptions applied. I had them get it months ago.”

“Yes but you are forgetting that Prowler was accessing the Inscribed’s soul by physically merging with his ‘patient’ and using his own body as a sort of bridge between the physical and metaphysical. He is then stimulating his victim’s every cell with overwhelming eroticism. His technique uses that positive energy to view the soul. It is entirely possible that this application of pure and raw positive experiences triggered the Inscription’s mechanism of transforming an individual into the desired final state simply because it is so out of the ordinary and alien.”

Harrow at least got enough of the theory to get the gist of what the Pauper was trying to describe. He could not invest much time in trying to decipher all of that information especially when a little alert appeared on his third and last monitor. There was a direct call coming from some unknown number. He ignored it. “Alright. But you’re saying that he did this accidentally?”

“Likely. There is no telling what he might have gleaned from the experience. But that is the secondary benefit of this court case. His imprisonment would ensure that he cannot look further into Inscriptions.”

“So,” Virileth said sharply, “you are claiming - and may I remind you that you are under oath - that you did not damage or destroy the soul of the individuals that attacked Casey Harrow’s clinic. That all you did was bombard them with such levels of sexual stimulation that all that should have happened is that they were incapacitated?”

“Yes,” answered Tyson.

“Then how do you explain the destruction of their souls or the rapid transformation that they underwent? Did you also reshape their bodies which, we’ve established, is within your capability as a Shaper?”

“I cannot explain or provide any reasoning to why their souls were effectively destroyed in the eyes of the law,” came the rigid response. “I did not control the spell or effects that reshaped the Orcs into Zauroks.”

Virileth seemed satisfied with the response, thanked Prowler and then handed the witness over to the defense.

Harrow knew little about Devon Thaumeister but some research had identified the Cheshire as some sort of rising star in the field of law. Though mostly active in corporate law, he had enough visibility that a quick search had identified this Cheshire in one of the top results. From what he had seen so far, the pageantry and air of confidence exuded by Prowler’s defense lawyer hid a conniving and clever mind.

Definitely someone to watch out for.

“Doctor Prowler,” Devon began. “You mentioned that you played no part in the victims’ souls effectively being destroyed in the eyes of the law. May you please clarify what you mean by that?”

Prowler explained that while there was a Torpak sitting in the gallery with them right now, in the eyes of the law, it was a different Torpak. Genetically, animacologically and even physically, this was an entirely different person. However, there was no denying that this Torpak appeared to be birthed at the moment that the old one was transformed.

“Is such a process possible?” Thaumeister asked.

“It’s been theorized but it’s impossible as far as we know,” replied Tyson, one again getting animated as the topic shifted into his comfort zone. “Souls, much like all forms of matter, can neither be created nor destroyed. When we die, our souls are broken down into component pieces in Hell and then sent to Heaven to be cultivated and made into new, nascent souls to fill the bodies of newborns and begin the cycle anew. These souls are nourished and grow within us as we experience new things. But what happened with Torpak and his crew was… impossible.”

“Please elaborate.”

“True reincarnation.”

The Pauper suddenly let out an uncharacteristic laugh. “That proves my theory. They know nothing.”

Harrow allowed himself a little smile of relief and picked up his drink again. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that little alert indicating that he was, yet again, getting another call. That irritated him. He had told his secretary to ensure that all his calls were held. When dealing with the Pauper, he needed to give the mysterious entity his undivided attention.

“Oh?” he asked, ignoring the blinking, red light again.

“If true reincarnation is the limit of their understanding or their best defense in this scenario, then they truly cannot understand the scope or purpose of the Inscriptions.”

That brought a wave of relief through Harrow and he happily took a sip from his whiskey, finally able to enjoy the smoky burn that ran down his throat.

Prowler described the theory of true reincarnation; the process of taking all an individual’s constituent parts and reforging them into someone else entirely. Again, there was some technical jargon about how such a procedure was impossible as the soul would always remember even if the mind and body were entirely different. A further ten minutes was spent on Prowler explaining how even if a soul was scrambled and pieced back together, it would cause disparity with an individual as it would still be old.

None of it interested Harrow. He was certain of Prowler’s conviction and, with that, an end to any trails that would lead to him. The case would be closed. He would no longer be a suspect. And he would have his foothold in Sanctuary City.

The plan was a success.

“Tell me, Doctor Prowler,” Thaumeister said, “why did you choose to appear before us as an Orc?”

Harrow’s eyes darted back to the screen and his brow furrowed.

“That was not my choice,” Tyson responded.

Virileth objected. “Objection, your honor. Relevance.”

Devon Thaumesiter turned coolly towards the Ironborne Judge, a knowing look on his features. “Your Honor, does it not strike you as odd that the renowned Tyson Prowler, the Monster Maker, otherwise known as Typhon or the ‘Demon of Debauchery, Desire and Dark Design’ appeared before us in the body of an Orc?” He then spread his arms wide gesturing at the court as a whole. “Have we not learned today that any sort of dissonance between the physical and metaphysical could give birth to soul-borne diseases?”

The Cheshire then spun towards the jury. “Is it not then odd that the Doctor Prowler, who has spent his life trying to fix soul-borne diseases, chose a body that was not his own on such a pivotal moment in his life?”

Steelwheel nodded in agreement. “Over ruled. Answer the question, Doctor Prowler.”

Tyson ducked his head a little. “It was not exactly my choice. You see… it seems that if I come into contact with someone using my technique that has the same sort of magic, overstimulating them the way I do would cause some sort of… magical feedback. I got turned into an Orc.”

“Is that so…” mused the Pauper. “Interesting.”

“You don’t have to worry though,” Tyson said, holding up his hands. “From what I’ve been told, my soul isn’t damaged. Apparently, the ‘curse’ formed a sort of shell around my soul. The soul of an Orc. Since my body becomes very malleable during my procedure, it reflected the image of my soul. My soul is shedding that shell slowly and I’m turning back. I even got my tail back.”

“So you’re saying that this form you have been given was unintentional?” asked Thaumeister. “Punishment for trying to help someone by fixing the damage to their soul?”

“I am unsure about the exact mechanics of the spell but it certainly feels like it from my perspective, yes.”

A lump formed in Harrow’s throat.

The Cheshire then produced a few epitaphs and handed it to the judge. “I now present testimony from various physicians skilled in the arts of animacology that support Doctor Prowler’s statement that he is, in fact, a victim here. He tried to save the people whose souls were damaged and appears to have been cursed with a temporary form as a result.”

“Your Honor,” Virileth said suddenly. “I object.” All Steelwheel did was give the Dark Elf a raised eyebrow. “We are not here to argue on the consequences of Doctor Prowler’s actions but the action itself. Regardless of whether or not he suffered some magical feedback as a result of tampering with someone’s soul, it does not change the fact that he illegally manipulating an individual’s soul. If anything, the fact that he suffered this condition is evidence of his guilt.”

Devon Thaumeister suddenly grinned very broadly and that lump in Harrow’s throat was accompanied by a pit in his stomach.

“Ah, my marvelous Lady Underwood, but therein lies the crux of this entire case.” He spun in place, arms wide almost doing a pirouette. “All you have presented to this court is evidence that Doctor Prowler used his technique which, I remind you, is only used to peer into an individual’s soul and reshape their bodies to match that soul. But what evidence is there that he was the one that manipulated the soul?”

Thaumeister then pointed at Tyson. “As per Doctor Prowler’s own testimony and these medical examinations, he is a victim here. He suffered the feedback from disabling the spell that was eating away at the souls of the GHM Orcs in exchange for extraordinary power. That was his punishment for this act!”

“Mr. Thaumeister,” warned the judge.

“One last thing, Your Honor,” the feline said, still grinning wanly. “Doctor Prowler, your base form is that of a leonine demon with four arms. Yet you are currently an Orc. Not just now. But then as well.” He suddenly pointed at the holovid that had displayed the security footage. “Why were you in the form of an Orc when you met with Casey Harrow?”

Harrow’s eyes widened in horror. “No… He’s going to get away with it…”

“I had a patient who had come to me earlier that day with a similar condition,” Prowler admitted. “Less than twelve hours, in fact, earlier. Very early in the morning. I had seen the damage to his soul and attempted to diagnose and treat it. However, much like what happened at the clinic, usage of my technique caused magical feedback and I became an Orc.”

“And what happened to this other patient?”

“Like the Orc that had attacked the clinic, he also transformed and his soul was reincarnated into that of another person. A blank slate with a different body and soul.”

Devon Thaumeister straightened and then turned to the jury. “So, armed with this knowledge and desperate to prevent any more people from getting hurt, you willingly threw yourself into the line of fire and overstimulated the Orcs expecting the same thing to happen?”

“I could not be sure. Both cases shared similarities but I couldn’t be sure if the same thing would happen. I just had to try.”

“Thank you, Doctor Prowler. No further questions.”

Harrow shot out of his seat. “Fuck!” he growled, his fingers closing around the glass. “They’re painting him as some selfless hero! He could walk away from this!”

“Perhaps,” agreed the Pauper. “But remember what Thaumeister just got him to admit. He willingly triggered the Inscriptions knowing full well that it could lead to the reincarnation of a soul. That is the very definition of illegal soul manipulation.”

“But why would his own defense make him admit that?”

A dark chuckle from the Pauper. “Because the question becomes whether or not he committed the heinous act of illegal soul manipulation.”

“And he just admitted to that!”

“No. What he just confirmed is that the Inscription did it. He just triggered the trap knowing full well that it would harm him and that it would be better for Torpak and the others to be transformed instead of suffering under the Inscription’s rule.”

Harrow’s eyes widened in terror and he glanced back at the court. Thaumeister looked very satisfied with himself and rested dismissed Prowler as a witness. Virileth had no further witnesses either. For the first time, he noticed the looks the two counsels were throwing one another. On the surface, it looked hostile and maybe even downright mocking. Thaumeister would wink smugly or blow Virileth a kiss while she was narrow her eyes slightly and straighten her back ever so slightly like she was looking down upon him.

Too late he realized that this had not been a case of Sanctuary City versus Tyson Prowler.

It was a theater put on for the benefit of the rest of the world. Prowler was the subject but the male and female leads were Devon Thaumeister and Virileth Underwood. Two expert lawyers dancing for the audience and weaving a sweeping narrative that painted the perfect picture that would acquit Prowler of all blame. All of this while pretending that they were against one another.

“They were working together!” he declared.

“As I suspected.”

Harrow spun back towards the image of the beggar. “You knew!?”

“I suspected. You underestimated Sanctuary City and Virileth Underwood. Trying to intimidate the likes of Knight Keening and forcing him to direct his ire at your former colleague was somewhat impressive. Honestly, I was impressed you made it this far. Your role was never designed to be so successful. I do not know if that is a testament to the stupidity of the citizenry or my craftsmanship in shaping you.”

“What are you talking about?” Harrow hissed. A little red, blinking light caught his attention. That persistent caller.

“You might want to get that.”

His heart pounding in his chest, Harrow jammed a finger on the key to receive the call. The Pauper and the feed to the courtroom was still live. The counsels were giving their closing statements but he ignored them for the moment.

“What?” he snapped, as soon as he opened the call.

“Good afternoon to you too, Mr. Harrow.” The voice was cool, crisp and all business. Female too. It took him a second to realize that this voice belonged to Kunoichi. The flea of that Delver team he had used.

“Kunoichi,” he began, trying to force calm into his voice. “To what do I owe this honor.”

“The terms of our contract. I believe the gig should be closed now, yes? My team has successfully neutralized the Green Hand Movement. I expect payment.”

He ran a hand down his face. This was not on the top of his agenda. “Yes, yes. I’ll send payment right away.”

“I am afraid that I have made other arrangements. My Delvers will be coming to you to receive the payment directly.”

Now his hand was pounding in his chest again. “What?”

The lights in his office flickered. A soft, mechanical whirring buzzed behind him and he turned to see the mechanical blinds over his floor-to-ceiling windows winding shut. Panic quickly set in and reached for his own personal phone. There was no signal despite the fact that he was in the middle of a Californian on the 44th floor of a skyscraper with an internal infosphere.

“Delvers are tools, Mr. Harrow,” Kunoichi said calmly. “That is no secret. However, they are still people. Your mistake was trying to use Tyson Prowler as a means to deceive and redirect our efforts.”

Harrow rapidly began tapping on his keyboard; trying to reach his secretary or security teams. No responses. Not a single one.

“I assure you that I do not know what you are talking about,” Harrow said, somehow managing not to stammer. “I was the victim here. I was the one whose life was threatened!”

“Did you know that your former colleague Tejathal Athul left rather detailed diaries and statements about your correspondence?”

Harrow’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t thought about Tejathal in a long time. In fact, when he had given that bookish idealist with an Orc fetish an Inscription, he didn’t think he’d ever have to think of him again before long. In fact, as time went on, he was sure Tejathal would have Lapsed as he was replaced entirely by Makhal Urag otherwise known as Uraprik.

Now that he could recall that man, it could only mean that Uraprik was dead… But how could that be? He should have just been replaced and the continued existence of the replacement should have kept Tejathal’s identity and any of his secrets hidden. That had been a key part of Harrow’s plan to spread his influence into Sanctuary City and the Planes beyond!

“Whatever he told you was a lie!”

All the lights in his room suddenly went out, plunging him into near darkness. The only light came from the three semi-transparent magical panels hovering over his desk. On the left was the Pauper, listening silently while mocking him. In the middle was Devon Thaumeister presenting his closing arguments. On the right was the call from Kunoichi.

“I have no doubt that he was far from truthful. He was quite… passionate.” She paused. It sounded like she was inhaling from a cigarette. “But based on what he presented us, we discerned a few things as well. After all, there were some outstanding questions that needed to be answered.”

There was a loud bang that shook the floor beneath Harrow’s feet and he briefly glanced down. The sound appeared to come from somewhere beneath him. Maybe a few floors down.

“How did you find the exact location of Albert Tien or even learn of the Green Hand Movement gathering that you had sent Pulse to intercept?”

Harrow bolted away from his desk, grabbed his bag and pressed a secret panel on the side of his bright, electric blue desk. Lightning-like circuits danced over the surface to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside was a simple sidearm. Nothing overly expensive or powerful but still a weapon. He grabbed it, slung his bag over his shoulder and moved around his desk, making for the double doors to his luxury office.

“Why, after all this time, did you not press any charges against the Green Hand Movement? Why was Uraprik the first to raise charges of criminal activity?”

He reached the closed doors but as he pushed at the large, black, wooden frames. They did not move. With a growl, he shook them. Still nothing. He banged a fist against the surface, shouting for someone - anyone - to let him out.

No answer.

“Why would you flee back to your headquarters and refuse to testify in the case against Tyson Prowler?”

Gritting his teeth together, Harrow looked across the office at the three glowing panels. The middle one suddenly flickered and then winked out of existence.

“Why did you offer Pulse a bonus for saving you?”

Harrow charged back towards his desk, slamming his fists against the blue surface. “Listen, Kunoichi, I don’t know who filled you or your Delvers’ minds with this nonsense but you need to call them off now.”

“Our contract is null and void, Mr. Harrow. We are no longer in your employ.”

“You won’t get a single omni from me!” he snarled, leveling a finger at the screen even though he knew that the flea would not be able to see the gesture.

“That will not be an issue. We will simply take what we are due from your accounts and more.”

Another bang. This one closer. One floor down maybe.

His eyes turned back tot he screen. “What are you after? Money? I can pay you. I’ll pay you double what was originally promised!”

Kunoichi offered no response.

“Triple! Quadruple!”

“This is not a matter of money, Mr. Harrow,” answered Kunoichi coldly. “As I said, Delvers are tools. They have no opposition to being used. However, their families, on the other hand, are off limits. Using the good Doctor Prowler as a means to pin the blame solely on Uraprik and the Green Hand Movement so you can make your escape was a big mistake.

“This is personal.”

The call dropped and the screen winked out of existence a moment later. The only source of light in the entire room was the last screen… the one showing the Pauper.

“You have to help me!” Harrow pleaded. “All of this would have been for nothing if they catch me!”

The Pauper was silent for a long moment. Long enough that there was another bang that sounded like it came from the same floor.

“You do not need to worry.”

Harrow did not like the sound of that. “Why…?”

“I did not get to where I am without making contingency plans. All the time and effort you have invested in this venture will not go to waste. Rest assured. As I mentioned previously, you have actually exceeded my expectations. I think it is that tenacity and aching ambition that I allowed you to keep.”

The Orc straightened and frowned. “What do you mean by ‘allowed me to keep?’”

“Again, you need not worry about that. Thank you for your service, Casey Harrow. It is worth little as you will not remember this exchange but know that I genuinely hoped that it would not come to this. There was a moment there during the trial that I saw future for you. Sadly, your missteps have come back to haunt you.”

“You can’t leave me!” Harrow bellowed, leaning closer to the screen with his brow sweating. “I… I… I’ll tell them about you! About your plan!”

“No you won’t. Your Inscription won’t let you.”

One more bang and this time, it came from right outside his door.

“Goodbye, Casey Harrow.”

The call dropped, plunging him into complete darkness.

BOOM!

The double doors blew open. Light spilled out from the hallway while the silhouettes of Pulse stood in the doorway.

“Hey, doc,” Theodore Prowler mocked. “We’re here for our appointment.”

❖

“…I’m in.”

Miri’s voice was a shot of adrenaline through Teddy’s veins. The flames that were burning through his system intensified a hundredfold. Combined with the light heat from a mid-afternoon California while standing on the rooftop of a skyscraper and Teddy was running almost as hot as Cole beside him.

The Lava Elemental rolled his shoulders, a scowl on his face. At Teddy’s other side was Ruben, armed with a large tube-like device on his shoulder. Nya hovered as far away from Cole as possible while Miri, making a rare in-person appearance on the battlefield, flanked the Elemental. The Ironborne was tapping away at a magical console emitted from her arms.

“Infosphere defenses disabled,” she declared. “Ready to go whenever you are.”

Teddy held up a finger, calling for a pause. In his other ear, he had a live feed to the court case that would determine Tyson’s fate. Devon was just presenting his closing statement.

“Members of the jury,” the Cheshire began. “The prosecution’s case against Doctor Tyson Prowler hinges on the allegation that he performed illegal soul manipulation against the Orcs that attacked his person on that day. Even ignoring the fact that he was seeking to defend himself, which the prosecution has correctly pointed out that there were other means to disable the assailants, this allegation is completely false.”

Teddy tilted a head towards Miri. “Has Kunoichi gotten to Harrow yet?”

“Not yet,” answered Miri. “She’s trying again.”

Back at the court, Devon continued his speech. “The key here is that the prosecution alleges that he was the one that performed the soul manipulation. We have already established that prior to the event in question, he had a patient approach him with a similar curse applied to their soul. Within twelve hours, Doctor Prowler was able to successfully deduce that it was devouring the individual’s soul against their will and doing something with it. He accidentally triggered the spell and it caused a phenomenon that is unprecedented. A supposed ‘true reincarnation’.”

“She got him,” announced Nya.

“Do it,” Teddy declared.

Miri began tapping away. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon so it was possible to see the lights flickering on the 42nd floors to the 44th. The floors that Harrow had for his headquarters. The others were rented out to other companies so they had to make sure that they only targeted the ones relating to their prey.

“Setting aside postulations about the plausibility of such a technique,” Devon continued, “let us focus on the fact that someone else put this curse on the individual and Doctor Prowler was just unlucky enough to get caught in the trap and trigger it. He even suffered for it.”

The lights on the floors went out.

“Now, Ruben,” ordered Teddy.

The goblin, flashing a maniacal grin, crouched on one knee and aimed the tube at the 42nd floor. He then pulled a trigger. Two puffs of smoke erupted from both sides of the tube. One shot a stabilizing cable behind him that embedded itself into the concrete behind him. The other shot a long cable across the gap between them and Harrow’s building. The harpoon leading the cable smashed through the glass and embedded itself into a wall within the building. Ruben pressed a button on the cable launcher and the device sprouted a few legs and created a sort of scaffold for the cables.

Cole clipped a large device onto the thick cable, gripped it with both hands and pulled the triggers on the grips. He was suddenly rocketing down the cable, across the huge gap between buildings over 40 floors above ground. Nya came after with Ruben right behind her. Teddy came next with Miri bringing up the rear.

Even with the wind howling in his ear, Teddy was still paying attention to the feed.

“He had an idea about what would happen if he triggered the trap again if he were to encounter it. However, he also knew what it was doing to an individual’s soul inflicted by it. We cannot speculate on the motivations of the actors that may have placed this curse upon the poor souls in question nor can we even question them on the circumstances around this affliction. We can only look at the facts.”

Office workers who had been milling about the floor were panicking, looking at the huge cable that had shot through a nearby window without warning. Ruben had been careful not to hit anyone. Collateral damage was one of the key metrics that determined the skill of Delvers. Those same workers barely had enough time to process what had happened before Cole was setting boots in their midst.

“Everyone down!” roared the Lava Elemental. The announcement was not really meant to be an order. It was designed to get everyone’s attention. The moment those on the floor looked in the direction of the big mass of living lava, Nya immediately cast a spell. She was practically beside Cole so her mesmerizing visage was in the line of sight of those that looked in Cole’s direction. She waved her hands through the air and uttered a few magical words. Civilians were suddenly dropping to the ground, unconscious and asleep. Even a few kevs who were patrolling the floor slumped forward, inflicted with an enchanted sleep.

One guardswoman either looked away in time or was somehow immune to sleep spells. She shouted for them to surrender but that was why Ruben was right behind Nya. All focus were on the two heavy hitters that the kev never saw the sneaky goblin zip across the floor, appear behind her and push a nanoneedle right into her brain. The move was painless and frightening quick. A thin needle no bigger than a threat was pushed into the back of her head, sliding through her hair, skin and skull, pushing into her brain and injecting a quick solution of nanobots that disrupted her central nervous system. The woman just slumped forward, unconscious but not dead.

Teddy landed a second later with Miri right behind him.

“Let’s move,” he announced and charged forward, taking out his Falcon and making straight for the stairs. Elevators were a liability. Even if they had control of the Infosphere, if Miri lost concentration for whatever reason, they could be trapped in a coffin of steel and concrete.

In his ear, Devon continued.

“The prosecution has failed to present any evidence refuting my client’s claim about this spell. It was an unknown curse that could be triggered without any prior preparation. We have evidence of the spell’s effects on people and evidence on what disruption of its abilities can do. Doctor Prowler was forced to enact the same procedure he knew would put his life at risk. Forced both professionally and physically. Physically because any other action would have led to direct harm to himself or the kidnapping of Casey Harrow. Professionally because, as a Shaper and cursed with the knowledge of animacology, he knew and could see the damage done to the souls before him. Given that, he triggered the spell’s effects. But I ask you this: who performed the illegal soul manipulation? Was it Doctor Prowler who purposefully stepped on the proverbial bear trap knowing that it will hurt him? Or the person who inflicted the curse upon the Orcs, effectively turning them into the perfect terrorist? An agent capable of executing an act and then self-eliminating and removing all trace of their existence?”

Teddy could not help but smirk as they burst into the stairwell, the loud bang echoing across the entire building. Devon knew his stuff. As much as he hated the slutty Cheshire, there was no denying that Thaumeister had somehow managed to create a compelling argument while omitting any mention of the Inscriptions and all the evidence they had gather as part of the multiple Delves.

Pulse charged up the stairwell, Cole leading the way. They made it all the way up to the 44th floor. Each floor they passed, Miri had to pause a moment to disable every avenue for any reinforcements to come rushing through. Fire doors locked and could not be opened. Cameras were switched off. Escape portals were disabled. Even company-issued firearms were neutralized to prevent them from being used.

On the door to the 44th floor, Teddy glanced over to Miri. She held up a finger while she worked, her mechanical eyes darting across the screens emanating from her forearm. A few seconds later, she pointed at the door.

Cole immediately slammed his foot against the door, immediately blasting it off its hinges with an earth-shattering bang. The 44th floor was reserved for the executives of Harrow’s company but also saw the highest concentration of the entrepreneur’s guards. His own little private army. On last count, he would have had eighty-seven well-armed soldiers in the building.

But with all of Miri’s disruptions, only a few stragglers and elite guards would be on the 44th floor. None of them would be match for experienced Delvers.

Teddy already had his gun pointed and firing even as the door was being blown off its hinges. His bullets struck the flying frame and debris at just the right angle to ricochet off and slam into a few of the soldiers on its way to the ground. Those bullets struck non-fatal parts of the guards’ bodies. Some didn’t even puncture the full-body shields they wore. It still posed a good enough distraction.

Ruben was a blaze of green as he darted into the floor, dashing off walls and weaving between rooms, neutralizing the guards that he could find. Nya was already weaving a spell, hypnotic patterns spraying out of her fingertips and washing over the entire floor. A few guards managed to get a few shots out as their focus was entirely on Cole. Sparks flew off the Lava Elemental’s obsidian-like body but none did any damage. Within moments, the floor was silent.

“Illegal soul manipulation is a grave crime,” continued Devon.

Teddy was marching forward towards Harrow’s office, each of his steps lining up with one of Devon’s words.

“And it is our job, your job, to convict the correct person of this crime because the consequences for that individual are incredibly dire. So I ask that you not take this verdict lightly. Remember who is standing trial here. A selfless, courageous doctor who saw that a soul was suffering and understood the consequences of applying his technique further to that soul. He knew of the trap, of the curse. He triggered it anyway and suffered for it. Who is to say what would have happened had he not been there to absorb some of the damage? Perhaps we would not have had a case of some sort of ‘true reincarnation’. Perhaps the Orcs would have just been consumed in a magical explosion that could have caused more casualties.”

Pulse stopped in front of Harrow’s door.

“Your job is to consider whether or not Doctor Tyson Prowler committed the heinous act of illegal soul manipulation without a shadow of a doubt,” Devon concluded. “I say that there are still to many unknowns. Too many variables. We know Doctor Prowler is a good man with strong morals and even stronger integrity. This is not a man that would malicious or even callously destroy a soul.”

Teddy lifted his foot just as Judge Steelwheel ordered the jury to begin their deliberations.

BANG!

He kicked down the door.

Across a vast office, standing behind a desk made out of some electric-blue material, was Casey Harrow. The fraudster was disheveled. His slicked back brown hair with flecks of gray was tousled and his eyes were wide. The white lab coat he wore over his suit that he used to maintain the facade of a medical professional was slightly askew. His eyes darted from Teddy down to his desk then back at the Delvers.

“Hey, doc,” Teddy sneered through a sinister grin. “We’re here for our appointment.”

“I -”

Began Harrow but at that moment, Teddy ordered the attack. They were on the clock. The attack was swift had only taken fifteen minutes so far. While there was a complete blackout of any communications coming in or out of the floors, Harrow’s company still had hundreds of employees under him. Each of those people was a possible avenue to reach out to the local authorities. The longer they lingered, the higher their chance of being captured.

Cole let out a roar and charged ahead. Harrow immediately pulled out a sidearm; from all appearances it was a simple, kinetic handgun. Nothing special about it. The ‘doctor’ fired off a few shots. The bullets smacked into Cole’s immense body but did nothing to stop the charging Lava Elemental. Harrow screamed in terror and ducked behind his desk. Cole seized that very same desk, wrenched it off the ground in one mighty pull and threw it aside to reveal the cowering businessman.

Cole reached down, grabbed Harrow by the collar of his lab coat and lifted him up into the air.

“You’re making a mistake!” Harrow cried, trying to break free of Cole’s grip with one hand. He still held onto his gun in the other and even tried to fire a few rounds into Cole’s abdomen from point blank range. Cole, however, was the Rook of Pulse. With Escalation, he was reinforcing himself with the more people that they had managed to incapacitate on the way here. By Teddy’s estimate, it would take nothing short of a railgun to pierce Cole’s flesh.

“No, we don’t think so,” snarled Cole.

Ruben strode up to Harrow, daggers flashing in the scant light. He spun one dagger through the air and sheathed it into a scabbard on his hip. His deft hands then snaked into Harrow’s lab coat and retrieved his phone. With it in hand, he tossed it to Miri who quickly began accessing it.

“What are you doing!?” bellowed the so-called ‘doctor’.

“What does it look like?” responded the goblin. “We’re taking our pay. With interest.”

Miri used the phone to get all the information she needed about Harrow’s personal information. The only thing she did not have was his block but that would come later. For now, she just needed information on all his accounts. Once she had that, she just had to run her standard program to drain them entirely.

“This is theft!” roared Harrow. “You’re putting hundreds out of a job!”

Nya hovered over to him and with a wave of her hand, the fist he was using to hold his gun was wreathed in a silvery-blue aura. His fingers unwound from the gun and it snap up as if he was surrendering. “People will find a way and get back on their feet. If you’re smart, you will too.”

The blue aura around Harrow’s hand peeled away from his palms in the shape of thin, wisp-like threads. Those very same threads began to weave themselves into a glyph in front of Nya. The moment Harrow saw it, his eyes widened in terror.

“Is that…?”

“Your block,” Nya answered. She gently grasped the shimmering image before tossing it towards Miri. The Ironborne took it. Now armed with Harrow’s unique form of identification, she had complete and utter access to all of his accounts.

“How did you…?”

She winked at him slyly. “Delver secret.”

Teddy allowed himself a little smirk. This was why Scions were so valued in Delver teams. A Scion’s Aura allowed them to turn any magic around themselves into their form of magic. Normally, this would enable them to draw out energy from their surroundings to cast their own spells or even use magic hurled at them to retaliate. However, something that few realized was that this also applied to individual’s blocks. Since blocks were traditionally invoked through the use of somatic magical invocations, a Scion could tap into those invocations and create a copy of a block.

Effectively, Scions could steal another person’s identity if needed.

Naturally, there were other ways Delvers could impersonate someone but this was by far the easiest and hardest to prove.

“You can’t do this!” bellowed Harrow, now desperately trying to kick at Cole. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”

“We absolutely know what we’re doing,” Teddy snarled. He turned his back towards Harrow, keeping an eye on the hallway beyond the office. “You tricked us. From the very beginning. You were just using us to push the Green Hand Movement to action and get the public to go against them. At the same time, you were using their hostility against you as a platform to promote the procedure you are claiming as your own even if you didn’t invent it.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the flailing entrepreneur. “You kidnapped one of your own employees who had nothing to do with this entire problem.” Even now, he was struggling to remember the name of that particular employee. The Lapsing at its finest. All he knew was that the guy eventually evolved into Bert. “You used him to reel us in and set us on the trail against GHM. Then you staged that attack on your own clinic in the hope that we would come and rescue you.”

The ploy would have worked had it all been timed correctly. Torpak - the old Torpak - had admitted it himself. The Orc had not expected Teddy to be at the clinic wielding information about the Inscriptions. Bert’s original was meant to accidentally use his powers to cripple and potentially delay Pulse in case they got a little too ahead of themselves. Then, while the Delvers were distracted, Harrow would get kidnapped by the Green Hand Movement in that spectacular scene at the clinic.

“It would have been your way of declaring to the world that GHM was a terrorist group,” Teddy surmised. “At the same time, you would have secured your escape plan with us while maintaining the integrity of GHM’s leadership and structure. If any of them found out that you were the one actually pulling the string, all they would have to do is come out, apologize and reveal the truth and you’d be screwed. So you strapped the time bombs which were the Inscriptions on them, fully expecting them to eventually self-destruct and take all evidence of your involvement with them. The fact that their original selves would eventually Lapse was just the icing on the cake.”

He then lifted a finger. “But it seems your old partner anticipated this. Tejathal Athul realized that when the Inscription eventually fully transformed him into Makhel Urag, he would succumb to the Lapsing and be consumed entirely, forgotten to the rest of us. So he made recordings and made sure that they could only be unlocked when he died.”

“But he’s not dead!” snarled Harrow, almost frothing in the mouth. “I saw the report! Uraprik is alive!”

“Right,” Miri said, not looking up from her display as she continued to hack away at Harrow’s accounts. “Uraprik, the dumb Minotlite who was born when Makhel Urag was converted by the Inscription. The same Makhel Urag who was likewise born from Tejathal Athul.”

Harrow’s eyes widened in realization.

“I do not know the exact mechanics of Inscriptions but from what I can deduce, when Tejathal Athul’s soul was fully converted into Makhel Urag, he succumbed to the Lapsing. He was forgotten by the entire world but his soul was still technically in use by Makhel Urag. However, when Makhel Urag transformed into Uraprik entirely, Tejathal could be considered fully deceased. As we know from the Lapsing cases, when the forgotten person dies, people won’t just spontaneously remember them unless they are reminded through physical medium or recordings. That’s what Athul did. He counted on himself eventually fully transforming to Uraprik. And when he did, his recordings would be visible to everyone again.”

Harrow let out a roar of frustration. “That backstabbing son-of-a-bitch! He agreed to this! He agreed to become Makhel! To become Uraprik! If he just wanted credit, I would have been happy to share the spotlight!”

Teddy’s prescience threw him a quick warning and he turned back towards the hallway. He fired off a few quick shots. The bullets bounced off a few walls and pillars before flying into the open internal stairwell. The guards that had been rushing up the steps immediately ducked for cover as the projectiles rained down upon them. No one was hurt seriously but in the darkness, they stumbled and were struck with doubt.

“Athul didn’t want the credit,” he said evenly. “Maybe Uraprik did but not Athul. All he wanted was to make sure you were brought down. He recognized the monster he was becoming and saw how he was just a reflection of you. Using people, twisting their beliefs and ideals to make your richer. And he was complicit to it all. He was going to die and he was determined to take you with him.”

For a second, Harrow’s eyes were wide in shock… then he let out another bellowing roar.

“And done,” Miri announced. “The commands have been sent. Omnis being transfered now.”

“Gold,” Teddy declared. “We’re done here.”

Ruben let out a little cackle and turned to leave, waving a hand over his shoulder. “See ya later, cots. Thanks for the scratch.”

Harrow grit his teeth together in frustration. “You won’t get away with this!” With a roar, he suddenly pulled his hand back, forming it into a fist. “I won’t let you!”

Teddy’s prescience suddenly started screaming at him. “Cole -” was all he could manage before…

BAM!

CRRRRACK!

The massive Lava Elemental was suddenly doubled over, practically curled around Harrow’s enormous fist. Fissures appeared over Cole’s black skin across his abdomen, glowing bright red. His grip on Harrow loosened and the Orc was dropped to his feet while Cole fell to his knees.

“No!” Nya shouted and shot towards her fellow Delver.

Harrow lunged for his discarded pistol and lifted it at her. Nya raised a hand protectively, a bubble of water appearing over his form, a protective shield. She crouched beside Cole while soothing, bluish-green light seeped from her palms over his wounded abdomen.

Harrow snarled and did the strangest thing… He lifted his free arm and flexed a bicep.

BANG!

Then he fired his pistol. The simple, kinetic bullet should never have punctured Nya’s shield even at point blank range. But Teddy’s mind was sounding the alarm. The shimmering shield around Nya shattered like glass and the bullet shot right through her right shoulder, causing her to spin back and crash to the ground.

“Nya!” Ruben shouted and shot forward. When Harrow turned to him and leveled the gun, the goblin immediately darted away.

BANG! BANG!

Both bullets missed as the much faster Slayer ducked out of sight and melded with the shadows.

“He has an Inscription!” Miri shouted.

That caught Harrow’s attention. Teddy knew what would happen next. He immediately crash-tackled Miri to the ground just as -

BANG!

Pain exploded from his flank as the bullet pierced his armor and punctured his flesh. The lightning bolt of agony radiated from his obliques. Then it came back again as the bullet shot out of his body and slammed into a pillar down the hallway.

He bit back a roar of agony as both he and Miri hit the ground. A second later, his blood rained down behind him.

“Yes,” rumbled Harrow, snarling through his tusks while relaxing the arm he had flexed. “I do have an Inscription. It is ‘Strong as Steel’. Anything I desire can be rendered indestructible as long as I flex a muscle and keep it flexed for the duration of how long I want to keep it invulnerable.”

The large Orc rolled his neck, a crackling like stones rolling around in a tumbler echoed in the dark office between Nya’s soft gasps and Cole’s ragged breathing.

Teddy grimaced and placed a hand against his wounded side. Warm blood was seeping between his fingers. An ordinary bullet would never have punctured his armored let alone had enough momentum to cut through his muscles and then break through the other side of his armor and keep going. Little wonder Harrow didn’t need to keep anything other than a basic kinetic pistol. Even something as simple as a punch was enough to knock down Cole.

There was suddenly a splash of something cool and numbing against his wound. A glance to his right revealed Ruben tossing an empty pack of recovery gel to the side. The clatter of the little tin on the floor momentarily distracted Harrow allowing the goblin to dart off into the shadows and circle behind the Orc. Naturally, Harrow tired to follow Ruben’s path, firing off his pistol, flexing his arm over and over again, invoking his Inscription. As Harrow turned, Ruben darted at him, sliding between his legs while one dagger flashed, slashing at Harrow’s calf.

The Orc let out a roar of agony and fell to one knee. Ruben didn’t go for the finishing move, however. Instead, he prioritized applying restorative gels to both Cole and Nya.

“Slippery little fucker,” snarled Harrow, rising to his feet and leveling his gun at Ruben. The goblin was darting away again but Harrow instead leveled his gun at the skull of the downed Nya.

“Hex!” swore Ruben. “Come and get me you bloated cubie!”

Harrow returned a devilish smirk. “No. I think I’ll just kill your teammates instead!”

BANG!

Twang!

Teddy had to fire at exactly the right time. There was little space between Nya’s head and the barrel of Harrow’s gun. If he fired too soon, Harrow would just point the gun back down at Nya. Too late and no mount of recovery gel would repair Nya’s brains splattered on the floor. So he needed to wait for exactly the right moment to fire.

One bullet was all it took. It sailed from his Falcon and slammed into the barrel of Harrow’s own handgun. The impact was enough to knock the weapon right out of the Orc’s hand, sending it sailing across the room, shattered, broken and useless.

“Nya,” Teddy breathed, now on his feet and back straightened. “Switch to psicomms.” He felt the touch of the psionic connection between himself and the rest of his team. Still speaking aloud, he said, “You played your hand a little early, Harrow. Told us about your Inscription straight off the bat. Now we know your capabilities and how to counter you.”

Then, psionically, he said, “Roll initiative, Pulse. BBGE is up and we don’t get a long rest mid-dungeon.”

There was a whir of mechanical gears and clinking of cogs. Miri was quickly on her feet, dismissing the console emanating from her forearms. She tapped a device on her temple. A crescent of shimmering, blue light wrapped over her eyes, springing from one temple and connecting to the other. With a flick of her wrists, multiple small panels of blue light sprang up at her fingertips.

“Jamming all connections with exterior infospheres,” she announced. “Patched into local infosphere.” With a few taps of her fingers, the lights in the room began to flicker. One by one, the ceiling lights in the hallway flickered on and off, each one iteration getting closer and closer to Harrow’s office. When the last one danced right out side the office, only the one light above Harrow switched on, catching the Orc in the spotlight.

“I have control,” Miri said ominously.

“You think your tricks will be enough to beat me?” snarled Harrow. He slammed his fists together, knuckles impacting. “If you think Torpak or Uraprik were hard, then you don’t hold a candle to me. I’ve had my Inscription for far longer.”

There was suddenly a flash of steel and green. Ruben dashed behind Harrow. His daggers sliced through the Orc’s back, cutting into the lab coat and the suit beneath. But there was no blood that erupted from it. Ruben bolted away before Harrow could even turn.

“He’s reinforced his whole body,” said the goblin mentally. “Doesn’t mean that he’s enhanced his abilities though. He’s still slow. Definitely not a fighter.”

“I’ll kill you all,” rumbled Harrow, reaching down for Nya with one hand. “Then I’ll show the Pauper that he was a fool to discard me!”

Suddenly, Cole’s huge hand lashed out and grabbed Harrow’s arm. The Lava Elemental was still on the ground but his posture was far more secure, intentional.

“Bet all that flexing must be hard, huh?” growled the team’s Rook. “Bet you can’t keep it up forever.” Cole then seized Harrow’s entire arm with his both hands and then flung the Orc over him with enough force that Harrow was thrown right out of the door and into the adjacent hallway.

“He can make himself stronger but it doesn’t change shit about his body!” Cole announced through their psychic link. “He’s still the same weight. Still the same smarts. Still the same senses.”

Nya gently rose to her feet and from there, she was able to regain her concentrate and rise back up into the air. Streams of raw magic taking the appearance of crystal-clear, bluish-green water streamed out of her palms and curved around her shoulders like a shawl made out of liquid aquamarine.

After a moment of further concentration, she clapped her hands together. The shawl split into four separate parts that each clung to her back like Knight’s tentacles. Only these ones each had a full hand connected to the ends; four different arms and hands made out of water.

Each arm and their associated hands instantly began making gestures and signs, casting spells simultaneously. At the same time, Nya herself used her biological arms and voice to cast more powerful spells. Spears of ice erupted from the hands over her shoulders while silvery chains exploded out of the ones hanging under her existing arms. An arcane rune circle appeared beneath Harrow and when Nya clapped her fleshy hands once more, blue-green fire erupted from the circle, consuming the Orc.

“He’s not magically inclined,” warned the Siren. “All brute strength and tech. The greatest danger here is reinforcements.”

Teddy ran a finger against the side of his Falcon, muttering a quick incantation. Yellow runes crackling with energy appeared against the barrel of his weapon. The snake-like chains Nya fired quickly wrapped around Harrow, the green flames immediately vanishing the moment they closed around the Orc’s form. The icy spears she launched bounced harmlessly against his immense frame. The suit he wore and the remnants of his lab coat were now completely charred. Even the slightest movement caused his ashed clothes to fall off his impressive frame.

“Did… Did he get bigger…?” Teddy asked.

“Something you should know about Inscriptions,” heaved Harrow, still grinning darkly. “The powers they grant are already great. But the greatest benefit of having one is it’s potential.”

The Orc flexed and the chains around him immediately shattered. He let out a roar, lifting both of his biceps into an intimidating double-bicep flex.

“Yep,” Cole grunted. “Definitely bigger.”

Harrow stormed forward, each step like dull thunder in the distance. “An Inscription is only as strong as the person using it. When you realize that you can interpret an Inscription multiple ways…!”

He stopped about fifteen feet away from the shattered door to his office before pulling back his fist. The members of Pulse immediately took up defensive positions.

Teddy’s prescience screamed at him. With their psionic connection, the rest of his team immediately received the same warning. With a roar, Harrow thrust his fist forward. A shockwave suddenly blasted out of his punch. Everyone in Pulse bolted off in different directions, moving in a coordinated manner to avoid the ‘reinforced’ blast of air. Were it not for their mental link and Teddy’s innate ability, they would have all been caught in the blast wave.

A wave the smashed against the solid metal shutters of the office and caused a sizable dent, even shattering the glass that they had once protected.

“I’ve had my Inscription for years,” declared Harrow. “I’ve had plenty of time to practice and find different ways to interpret it.”

BANG!

A single bullet struck Harrow’s right pectoral. It practically sank into the firm muscle there without puncturing the flesh. The Orc regarded the projectile with an air of arrogance… that quickly turned into surprise when there was a fizzle of crackling lightning from the bullet. Magical lightning erupted all over his body, locking up his limbs and shooting through his bones. Harrow roared in agony and fell to his knees. He managed to catch himself on his knuckles. The impact of it on the floor caused small craters in the tiles.

“He can probably only ‘reinforce’ himself against one thing or another,” Teddy mused. “But he can’t defend against everything_. Especially things that bypass traditional defenses.”_

There was another sound of cracking stone. This time, Teddy could visibly see Casey Harrow growing bigger. Naked, the slightly portly Orc’s mass visibly became bigger and larger. Fat around his belly seemed to melt away beneath expanding muscles. Soft mounds hardened into striated mass and expanded. The Orc lifted his head, eyes shining with a strange, electric blue light.

“We better be careful,” Miri warned. “There is no telling if he will overload like Uraprik. We also need to act fast. We’ve been here over thirty minutes. Police will be on their way. I’m helping to keep them distracted but I can’t stop everything coming through the extrasphere and hold back the InOps team here.”

Harrow rose to a crouch then bolted at Teddy, letting out a ferocious roar while charging with the speed of an Olympic runner.

Thankfully, Teddy had his prescience… which was interrupted when a crackle came from his earpiece.

“Has the jury come to a verdict?”

The moment of distraction cost him.

Harrow slammed into him with such force that all the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Worse yet, he was lifted clear off his feet and carried all the way across the office. His back collided with the metal blinds. Steel creaked against his back and glass shattered.

A huge hand clasped around his neck, pressing him against the blinds.

“I should have just killed you myself!” roared Harrow. “Or at least terminated the contract when you had the balls to confront me and suspect me of betrayal!”

Pressure around his windpipe kept air from rushing into his lungs. Still, Teddy had enough breath to force a grin and say, “I was right, wasn’t I?”

SMASH!

Electric-blue metal shattered against Harrow’s back, causing the Orc to momentarily buckle and loosen his grip against Teddy’s neck. Behind the growing Orc, Cole stood, looking a little stunned while holding the remnants of that blue desk.

Harrow glared over his shoulder at the Lava Elemental. “That was a custom Manasoft all-in-one desk!” he roared. “Do you have any idea how long it took to get that thing built and shipped!? It was made out of lightning-infused titanium!”

Cole threw aside debris in his hands. Harrow was now about as tall and as thick as the Rook. “Hate to tell you, cots, but you were ripped off.”

Without warning, Harrow turned back towards Teddy and lashed out with his other hand, digging his fingers into the metal of the blinds. He ripped a hole right through the layers of metal and threw the twisted steel at Cole who was forced to dodge. The cool, California air brushed against Teddy’s neck as Harrow thrust him out the window and held him dangling over the edge. 44 floors worth of skyscraper height separated the Delver from the concrete below.

Shouting could be heard from the hallway beyond Harrow’s office.

“Ah,” the Orc chuckled. “Looks like your time is running out.”

Nya flung her hands through the air. Furniture was hurled out of nearby rooms and offices and quickly barricaded the entrance to the office. To add to the barrier, a wall of ice wreathed the barricade.

In Teddy’s ear, the head juror finally gave Judge Steelwheel an answer.

“Yes, your honor. We have.”

“How fitting,” Harrow laughed, lifting Teddy a little higher into the air. “I will have killed the Prowler brothers indirectly. Your brother will be executed by the courts of Sanctuary City while gravity will kill you for me.” The grin across his features grew broader, his tusks shining in the light of the of city. “Goodbye, Theodore Prowler.”

Then Harrow released his grip.

But Teddy was unafraid.

“If that bastard thinks this is the first time I’ve been thrown out of a skyscraper window…” he said through their mental link.

“Incoming!” Miri exclaimed.

He barely dropped for about seven seconds before an airborne vehicle suddenly snatched him from the air, catching him through an open door. He slammed into the big, blue, furry form of Knight Keening clutching the steering wheel. The Elder wolf’s fangs were grit together as he quickly jerked the car from it’s vertical position to get them back to a stable flight path.

“You made great time,” Teddy laughed, pushing off the Detective’s firm bicep and planting himself into the passenger seat. “Thought you were just going to distract the California silvers.”

Knight gave him a sidelong glance and a half-smile. “I took an express warpway from Seattle here right after my testimony. I was on standby until Miri told me that Harrow has an Inscription. I already gave the local precinct an ‘anonymous tip’ about your Delve. They’re taking their time.”

When Teddy threw him a curious look Knight explained that when it came to Delves, it was standard police procedure to let events play out and not endanger themselves. Unfortunately, in such cases, the standard uniformed officers were just there to collect bodies. It would be up to the corporate security teams or, if the situation warranted it, the riot teams. Thankfully, deploying far more heavily armed troops to deal with Delvers required higher authorization. By telling the local police department that it was a Delve, he had bought them more time.

“Thanks,” Teddy said, twisting slightly in his seat. The pain from his earlier injury and then being smashed against reinforced metal blinds was starting to catch up with him. Adrenaline could only get him so far. “Hope it doesn’t mess up your job.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Knight responded, with a sly wink. “And technically, I’m still on administrative leave until the trial is over. So for all intents and purposes, I’m still a private citizen.”

Teddy glanced down at the dashboard of the car. It was not one he recognized. Certainly Knight’s. It was a Ford. Bulky. Far from aerodynamic but sturdy. He straightened and grasped the steering wheel. A little smirk touched his features when he noticed the logo for Harrow’s company plastered on the hood.

He was relieved that there would be nothing to track Knight’s participation back to this event. With those fears alleviated, he lifted his gaze back towards the building and his goal; Harrow.

“We need to ram him,” he snarled. “That bastard just won’t go down!”

Knight’s knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. “Then buckle up, bronco!”

Surprised that Knight didn’t offer any resistance to the plan, Teddy activated the seat belts and checked his Falcon’s magazine. Still plenty of ammo.

Knight veered the car away from the building, making a long, wide loop to give himself space to build up acceleration. The Elder switched off the headlights of the car, giving them a modicum of stealth. Harrow was turned away from them, storming towards the rest of Pulse. Ruben and Nya were blasting the bulging Orc with a barrage of bullets and spells, keeping him mostly in the same space. Cole collided with Harrow, clasping hands together and trying to push one another back. Miri was busy in the back trying to keep the massive Orc back.

Knight angled the car right at the opening in the building. “You ready, for this?”

Teddy lifted his gun.

“Let’s end this.”

Knight slammed his foot on the pedal. The car shot forward with a savage roar.

“Very well,” Steelwheel declared. “On the count aggravated assault, how does the jury find the defendant?”

Proximity and predictive collision alarms blared all over Teddy’s dashboard. Miri announced that she had switched off the onboard VANNI which would have forced them to veer out of the way. Just for added effect and to warn Pulse of the immanent collision, Knight switched on the headlights three seconds before impact.

Three…

Cole grinned and suddenly yanked Harrow’s hands downwards. The motion caused the huge Orc to suddenly lurch forward which the Lava Elemental met by slamming his forehead against his opponent’s. The impact immediately dazed Harrow.

… two…

“Ha!” Cole mentally shouted. “Amateur!” Then the Lava Elemental was releasing his grip on Harrow and diving out of the way. “All yours, Teddy Bear!”

… one…

The instant that the car shot into the building and the tip of it’s hood slammed into the small of Harrow’s back, Teddy unbuckled his seatbelt and dove right out of the passenger seat. While sailing through the air, he fired a few rounds into Harrow. His electrified bullets slammed into the Orc, sending thousands of volts throughout his enormous bulk and holding him in place. From the corner of his eye, he saw Knight had similarly jumped out of the driver’s seat.

WHAM!

Teddy crashed into the ground, rolling to avoid as much damage as possible. The whine of screeching metal, roar of crashing debris and shattering glass filled his ears. The undertones of Harrow’s cry was quickly cut off as the Orc was dragged through the entire office, collided with Nya’s makeshift barrier back out into the adjacent hallway.

CRASH! BANG! BOOM!

Teddy quickly shook any dizziness and pain that was wracking his body. He propped himself up on one arm only for that same arm to collapse out form underneath him. It felt like it was broken.

“Everyone sweazy?” he thought through their link, unable to muster the strength to speak.

“On the count of first degree murder of five individuals,” Steelwheel declared in his ear, “how does the jury find?”

Nya was the first to respond. “Mostly. But I’m sensing a surge of magical energies!”

“Oh hex…” Ruben moaned. “He’s still not dead!?”

Teddy tried to rise to his feet but a pain shot up his leg. Bruised there and possibly a broken ankle but nothing too serious. Cole’s large, warm hands gripped his shoulders and brought him to his feet. Only then could he survey the damage.

There was a very clear and distinct path of destruction his stunt had caused. Tiles were burned and upended from where the car has smashed through the window and collided with Harrow, dragging the huge Orc from near the window all the way into the hallway. Debris was scattered everywhere. No flames, thankfully.

Halfway down the hallway, the car was crumpled.

“We the jury, find the defendant, Doctor Tyson Prowler, not guilty.”

BOOM!

A huge fist erupted from underneath the pile. Teddy’s heart seized up and he quickly barked an order for Nya to patch him up. That same arm pulled the rest of Harrow’s mass out of the ruined vehicle but… something was different.

“You must be kidding me!” exclaimed Knight, moving to remove his clothing. “Does his Inscription make him invulnerable!?”

Electric blue lights danced all over Harrow’s frame like his veins had been replaced by barely hidden circuitry. His hands looked… plastic. There were clear metal pieces exposed all over his body but they weren’t signs of injury. Rather, it looked like someone had replaced parts of his body with… cybernetics.

For a second, Teddy wondered if the Harrow they had been fighting was just a mechanical construct. Then he saw the huge, erect cock sticking out between Harrow’s thick legs… and the clear evidence that the man had just ejaculated.

“And lastly, on the five counts of illegal soul manipulation, how does the jury find?”

“Wait…” he said, holding up a hand.

With the help of Cole, he hobbled forward towards the huge, panting Orc. Eyes with blazing blue irises desperately scanned his surroundings. There was panic in the Orc’s eyes like he was seeing everything around him for the first time… because he was.

“Hey,” Teddy said, waving to catch Harrow’s attention. To help with matters, Miri switched on a few lights so that Teddy was in sight of the Orc.

Harrow’s eyes widened upon see him.

“We the jury…”

“Harrow?” asked Teddy.

The Orc blinked a few times… and then pointed at himself. “Me?”

The Delver nodded slowly, realizing what had just happened. “Yeah.” He glanced past Harrow - now a cybernetically enhanced Orc. A cybork. The shouts from security personal was still there, likely hindered by Miri’s expert hacking. “Come with us. You’ll live that way.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the opening they had created in the window. “You do want to live, don’t you?”

“… find the defendant…”

Harrow frowned for a second but then nodded. “Yes?”

“Good. Miri, get us a ride. We’re done here.”

“… Doctor Tyson Prowler…”

As he hobbled back towards the window, Miri had managed to summon a few vehicles that were owned by Harrow’s company. They jumped into them, Harrow and Knight included.

In his ear, the verdict was passed.

“… not guilty of all charges.”

❖

“Good morning, Sanctuary City!”

Tyson Prowler, otherwise known as Typhon the Demon of Debauchery, Desire and Dark Design, the Monster Maker and recently acquitted of multiple counts of illegal soul manipulation, never thought that there would be any other people that shared his penchant for early mornings. Yet, if there was someone in Sanctuary City that would share his habit of being up at five o’clock in the morning, it had to be Virileth Underwood, the District Attorney of Sanctuary City’s central districts.

The dark elf sat on a stool across from him on the breakfast island, holding a mug of coffee in her lithe hands. She took a sip from the mug. For the first time since meeting her, he saw her dark lips twist upwards in a very faint smile.

“Is that a hint of deathbloom and angeltear I detect?” she asked. “Coconuts too?”

Tyson’s offered a light smile across his leonine features. “You have a discerning tongue, Ms. Underwood. Yes. Deathbloom, angeltear and coconut. I find that the tang of the deathbloom juxtaposes pleasantly with the sweetness of the angeltear and takes out the punch of the coconut so that it’s more of a distant and brief aftertaste instead of a domineering presence.”

She set down her mug gently. “I don’t usually like coconut but this coffee surprises me. Something I am quickly learning is a habit of yours, Doctor Prowler.”

“Just call me Tyson,” he said, waving one of his four paws in her direction. “After how you went easy on me at the trial a few weeks ago, I think you’ve earned that right.”

The dark elf’s smile vanished. “Were I better at my job and not leashed by duty and a system that interprets law through a monochromatic lens, you would not have been in that position in the first place.” Then, her lips turned upwards ever so faintly. Almost imperceptibly. “However, your fellow feline put up quite a strong defense.”

Tyson toasted his mug in her direction. “Only because you left so many openings for him. When I talked to him after the verdict, he said that you basically set him up to take the avenue you laid out for him. A few times there, you basically forced him to refocus on the fact that it was about blaming me for the fact that someone inflicted the Inscription on Torpak and the others.” He looked down at the murky, brown liquid in his mug. “For a while there, I was genuinely blaming myself for what happened to them. I lost sight of the fact that, at least based on what happened with Bert, it was not something they could have done themselves and consensually.”

When she was silent, he continued. “I still bear responsibility for triggering it in Torpak’s group with the full knowledge of what it would do to them. Not to mention that, as it was pointed out in the trial, there were other ways to stop them from taking Harrow.” Lifting his gaze, he locked eyes with the peerless prosecutor. “A lesson I will always remember.”

“That is all I ask,” she answered, picking up her mug and bringing it to her lips again. “Let us not forget, as well, that based on what happened with Uraprik and Harrow, the transformation is a foregone conclusion especially if you somehow deviate from some sort of ‘set path’ that the Inscription dictates. But let us know make that an excuse to ‘hurry along’ someone who has an Inscription. Still, should anyone try to draw those parallels…”

Tyson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. We cannot prove that it was my technique that triggered it in the end. For all we know, the Inscription is some sort of perverse, magical chastity cage and because I made them cum, they transformed. We don’t know everything about them yet.”

Virileth took a sip from her coffee and let out a soft hum of approval. “Speaking of Mr. Thaumeister, I do hope he is not letting his victory over me go to his head.”

Tyson snorted, his flaming tail doing loops through the air. “On the contrary. He was a little annoyed that you basically railroaded him into using that defense strategy. He’s studying more than ever to make sure he is an even better lawyer who can beat you on his own merits. That’s in between fucking sessions with Bert, of course.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Oh? So I take it your first charge has accepted Thaumeister’s offer to become a member of the White Orchid?”

He grinned brightly at her, showing off the fangs that he missed. “There was never any doubt.”

Bert had found his calling amongst the White Orchid. Though he didn’t quite find where in the White Orchid he would belong, he had elected to stay with them and apprentice under the various members to find his true profession. At the same time, he was using their resources to fill the gaps in knowledge that he still possessed.

“When I visited them last week, Bert and Dev were analyzing the procedures and laws that came into play during my trial,” he explained. “It seemed like a good place to start. He’s picking it up really well. Literally a sponge for knowledge and information.”

“And Torpak and his group?”

Given that Torpak was more closely tied to the Green Hand Movement, he had started to work with the former members of GHM. The goal was not only find anyone else had Inscriptions but also to help deprogram them from the propaganda that the former Uraprik had fed them. He called the new organization Tuskreach and with the resources of the White Orchid, it was quickly expanding beyond just recovering the Orcs who were disenfranchised by Uraprik.

“They’ve become this really positive Orc-centric outreach program,” said Tyson. “They’re still small and are predominantly working with former-GHM members but other Orcs are already reaching out to them to get their thoughts on other misconceptions that are thrown at and by them.”

Virileth let out a little sigh of relief. “Frankly, it was them that I was most worried about. Of all those that suffered from the Inscriptions, they were the one with the least support structure to lean upon and the group where we had the least foundational knowledge.”

Tyson leaned back against the counter, lower arms folded. “Yeah… By the time they were consumed by the Inscription, whoever they were before they became those Orcs had already Lapsed, or so it seemed. By the time of the trial, we were already struggling to maintain their identities as the Orcs. We had no means to identify who they were before they were radicalized.” He glanced up at Virileth. “You genuinely think that they actually were someone else before becoming Orcs?”

She nodded grimly. “Think about it. The only reason we managed to connect Tejathal Athul to Uraprik was because of his confession. Athul had the foresight to record that connection fully aware that once he fully Lapsed, everyone would forget him. The only way for those connections to even be visible to us is when the Makhel Urag he had become was consumed by the Inscription.”

With a growl, the leonine demon pinched the gap between his eyes and shook his head. “That’s is still the most convoluted system I had ever heard of. I’m still trying to wrap my head around your theory of why it was implemented that way.”

It was after the dust had settled that Banchomyon had gathered all those involved under a flag of peace and trust to discuss the underlying issue they faced: the Inscriptions. It was Virileth and Knight who had the only plausible theory as to why Inscriptions seemed to ‘skip iterations’ in terms of Lapsing.

It all came down to the practicality of the implementation.

If a person was constantly being ‘recycled’ through the Inscriptions, the Inscription would only have to mask the prior iteration to remove most connections between the first iteration and the current. Everyone would completely forget the middle iteration of the soul. The bridge linking all three people together would be gone. Perhaps further iterations would eventually cause the middle link to appear again once the conditions for the Lapsing had expired but then there would be no way to connect the fourth iteration to the others because the third iteration would be forgotten.

In that way, you could have the perfect spy or agent.

“We do not know if it is some sort of limitation of how Inscriptions work,” Virileth said. “Unfortunately, we have yet to capture someone with an Inscription to fully examine them. It is my belief that this is by design. As we have seen, any deviation from the ‘plan’ or ‘destiny’ that the Inscription enforces will lead to a new iteration being created. That is what happened with Uraprik and Harrow.”

There was a sound of heavy footfalls from the direction of the bedrooms. Virileth turned and Tyson looked up. The enormous Orcish form of Harlowe stood there, stifling a lawn and trying to cover his tusks with a biomechanical fist made out of electric blue, synthmuscle. He rubbed his bright blue eyes that shone with a mechanical light as they focused on the two individual in the kitchen.

“Oh,” the Cybork exclaimed softly, straightening. “Ms. Underwood. I did not know you would be joining us for breakfast. Had I known, I would have gotten up sooner and prepared your favorite brew.” He then looked down at his very naked but physically perfect form. Tyson could not help but growl a little at the sight of the tan-skinned Orc’s taut, muscular form contrasted against the biomechanical arms and legs covered in electric-blue muscle. “Or gotten dressed.”

Virileth waved away his apology. “It was a spontaneous visit, Harrow. You need not worry.”

Harlowe gave her an apologetic smile through his tusks. “Please, Ms. Underwood. It’s Harlowe. Harlowe Newborn.”

She smiled at the name that the former Casey Harrows had adopted. Of the Inscribed, only Torpak had chosen to keep his name. Even Uraprik - now going name Michael Tresurag - had adopted a new name. Not exactly a difficult thing to get into the official systems given that all of them had no identity whatsoever.

“Of course,” she answered. “My apologies, Harlowe.”

The very naked Cybork excused himself briefly to get dressed, giving Virileth and Tyson a minute or so of privacy.

“I see you have taken a personal interest in his recovery,” the dark elf observed.

“Dev had his hands full with Bert and Torpak’s group divided amongst the rest of the White Orchid. Teddy wants nothing to do with him. Knight… well…” Tyson chuckled softly to himself. “Knight already has Salem to deal with. He doesn’t need another kid. I’d feel bad making him a single father of two.”

Harlowe returned a moment later, dressed in a modest, white robe and quickly moved to the kitchen, announcing that he would start making them breakfast. The Cybork’s cybernetics interfaced easily with the inbuilt smart-system of Tyson’s home. Even the VANNI that had once been the default female interface had been converted to a version of Harlowe. Most of the time, all Harlowe had to do was look in the direction of an appliance and it would switch on and do his bidding. Sometimes, he would point a finger at a port and a little wire or connector would appear from the tip which he would insert and begin interfacing.

Tyson found his life a little easier with Harlowe around.

The sex was amazing too. All the different attachments the Cybork could experiment with were… stimulating.

“Speaking of your brother,” prompted Virileth. “What is he up to recently?”

Tyson quirked an eyebrow at her. “Planning to hire him for a Delve?”

“Perhaps,” she answered enigmatically. “I know Detective Knight has been trying to reach him for some time but never got a response. He was a little worried.”

The leonine demon smirked a little. “Teddy has just been laying low. He got quite a lot of omnis from Harrow’s accounts, you know. Can’t just be walking around with that kind of money. A few people down in Los Angeles are rightfully quite mad. Especially the families of the people Harrow had hired. More than one of them would be capable of hiring another Delver team to come after Pulse.”

Virileth nodded in understanding. “True. Though I hear that even with Harrow’s demise, his organization is finding a way to keep going.” She quickly glanced at Harlowe. “I hope you don’t think me rude speaking of your former self like that.”

The Cybork smiled brightly at her. “You need not worry, Ms. Underwood. As far as I am concerned, I am not Casey Harrow. I may have been made from the same matter as him but, just as we are all made from the same stardust as genius inventors, mass murderers and world-changing leaders, I do not carry the burden of what he did as I hold myself to the standards of all those others that came before.”

Tyson snickered a little. “He’s quickly becoming quite philosophical.” Harlowe approached with two plates. “And makes a damn good omelets. Thank you, Harlowe.”

“Of course, Doctor Prowler.” Harlowe, gestured at the kitchen. “Pardon me while I make myself some food and clean up.”

Virileth delicately scooped some of the omelet onto a fork and ate it. There was a brief instant when her crimson eyes shone at the taste. “Delicious. Thank you, Harlowe.”

The Cybork graciously accepted the praise, beaming with pride before returning to his work.

Turning the subject back to the topic, Tyson said, “I heard that Harrow’s company is being scavenged by other investors. Torpak helped reveal the actual inventor of the technique and how Harrow basically had him killed. The cover up you guys concocted was pretty convincing. Tied all the evidence together while ommiting the thing about Inscriptions.”

“I am sad to say that it was necessary,” answered the district attorney. “I would have preferred to escalate this to some national agency but since Sanctuary City is an independent city state, we cannot be sure who we can trust. So for now, the story of Harrow’s ambitions leading him to trick Tejathal Athul into handing over the patent of the OTRP and then leaving Athul destitute will do.”

“Helped that Harrow’s prior failed ventures actually supports the picture that he’s a failed venture capitalist that finally found his golden goose and wasn’t going to let it go.”

Virileth nodded. “His company is being cannibalized by other corporations and organizations. Last I heard, there is currently a bidding war for its assets. Multiple big banks are looking to take control of it and the patent. Some dental organizations are doing the same.” She laughed softly. “Ironically, I heard that it is REPAIR that has the strongest bid. Not only from a monetary standpoint but also through public opinion. Brutus Glover is touting that he wishes to make the procedure as cost-effective and available to everyone as much as possible especially low-income Orcs.”

Rolling his eyes, Tyson finally began picking away at the omelet he was given. Not as good as his own but Harlowe was rapidly learning and developing his own style.

“Of course the super-wealthy philanthropist would say that,” he sighed with a shrug. “Anyway, back to Knight and Teddy. I’m glad that some of the impact from Harrow’s demise is being cushioned. Might get Teddy to relax a little. If you need me to pass on a message to him from Knight, I can.”

Virileth nodded in thanks. “Yes please. Just let him know that the good detective is concerned and was looking for confirmation on his well-being. Keening is thorough and doesn’t want any loose threads hanging about.”

Tyson smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Give him my thanks for being there to help Teddy out as well during the Delve. He didn’t need to go that far.”

“But he wanted to, I’m sure.” Virileth got to about half of her omelet when she continued. “Detective Knight has a strong sense of duty and responsibility. He understood that it was his duty to pursue the case to its conclusion even if that meant testifying against you to some extent. However, that does not mean that he felt no guilt over his actions despite his hands being tied. It was why he went to the lengths to support you and your brother as much as possible.”

“I understand that. I just hope he knows he has my gratitude and I bear no grudges against him.”

“I’m sure he does.” The district attorney quickly finished her omelet before rising to her feet. “Thank for the meal, Doctor Prowler. And the good company. It is always a pleasure.”

Tyson tilted his head to the side curiously. “It was my pleasure. Though you never said why you came all this way so early in the morning.”

She stopped for a moment and let out soft chuckle. “Ah, I suppose the company did distract me from my original goal.” Then her features darkened again as she turned to regard him. “I wanted to reassure you that we are looking into the ‘Pauper’ that your brother mentioned Harrow mentioned in their encounter.”

The Pauper. It was a brief and fleeting reference that Harrow apparently yelled during the Delve. Easily missed in the chaos of the combat. However, Miri had recorded it and its implications.

‘Then I’ll show the Pauper that he was a fool to discard me!’

Harrow was being used by someone else. Given the nature of the Inscriptions and how Harrow had one himself and succumbed to it in the end, there was a very real possibility that Casey Harrow had just been another pawn in a greater game. A game that this ‘Pauper’ was puppeteering.

“Thank you,” Tyson responded, his own tone grave. “If you need my assistance in any way, let me know.”

She gave him a humorless smile. “Another reason for my visit. You have a rather unique position.”

“Because I am closest to the Inscriptions?”

“Yes but also because of your legal status.”

Tyson lifted an eyebrow and her dark smile widened even more.

“You have been acquitted of illegal soul manipulation, Doctor Harrow,” said Virileth coolly. “While that does not mean that you cannot be accused of future counts should you ever commit such a heinous crime, it does mean that it would be harder to convict you of such a crime. After all, any future accusations, especially without evidence, would have to stand up against the precedent that you have already shrugged off such an attempt before. This offers you a little protection.”

Message received loud and clear.

Not too long ago, the anonymity and lack of evidence of Inscriptions was the advantage that made them difficult to counteract. Since they effectively wiped all traces of themselves when fully triggered, proving they were the cause of any crime was impossible. Any attempt to even bring it up in court would be considered the ravings of a madman and likely offer no little weight on the outcome.

But now that Tyson had survived such an attempt, he gained a little shield against such future accusations… a shield he could use to his advantage.

“Make no mistake,” warned Virileth. “It also paints a rather prominent target on your back. So I think it is only fair to warn you that it might be in your best interest to keep any mention of Inscriptions to a minimum. This goes double for your friends in the Order of the White Orchid.”

Tyson lifted his other eyebrow. The members of the White Orchid had taken great pains to hide their interest in the Inscriptions and what happened to Tyson. Not only had one of their member brothers had been targeted but Devon’s interest in the subject was piqued especially when he made the tangential connection that it seemed that a male orgasm seemed to be the final nail in the coffin before an Inscription terminated its host.

Virileth just met his with a look that said, ‘Did you really think I, of all people, would not have known?’

“I’ll be sure to pass on your warning,” answered Tyson coolly.

“Thank you,” she answered, finally turning away to leave.

“Just remember that if you ever need my help…”

She waved absently over her shoulder. “Yes. Count on being contacted.”

Once the DA was gone, Tyson was overwhelmed by a sense of looming dread. There was a break in the storm but he could see the thunderheads in the horizon. Whether he liked it or not, Virileth had was right. His escape from the clutches and plots of Harrow had been by a very narrow. Knowing that this ‘Pauper’ could be the true mastermind behind the Inscriptions only meant that he had to be careful.

The eyes of the Pauper were upon him now.

“This is not over, is it?” asked Harlowe, approaching him from behind and gently curling an arm around his waist.

He smiled down at the smaller Orc and wrapped one of his arms around Harlowe’s shoulders.

“No. Not by a long shot.”

❖

Salem set down the little digital pen and let out a sigh in relief. Then the little Elder wolf broke out into a bright smile as he pushed the stack of epitaphs across the table from him.

“All done!” he exclaimed.

The pen made out of solidified light dissipated into flickering cubes of energy as Knight Keening reached across the table and picked up the gelatinous, non-Newtonian prisms. He perused the homework his son had just completed. There were a few mistakes that he could identify but decided that they could be dealt with tomorrow.

“Let’s go over this again tomorrow,” he announced. “It’s getting late.” He lifted a finger. “You get one hour of videogames and then it’s straight to bed.”

“Yay!” Salem was already jumping off his seat and hurrying down the hallway towards his room, his tendrils twitching in happiness.

“No running!” warned Knight, as he began packing up the epitaphs on various subjects around him. Even without looking, just the steadier pitter-patter of his son’s footfalls on the floorboards indicated that his the little Elder had taken his warning to heart.

He placed the epitaphs on the little table reserved for Salem’s homework and then moved to the kitchen to clean up the rest of the evening’s meal. The dishwasher was just finished so now it was just time to pack up all the dishes. With his arms and multiple tendrils, it was a very quick exercise. Just as he finished placing the last glass into the cupboards, there was a soft sing-song chime that erupted from the front door.

A glance at the clock told him that it was currently nine in the evening. Far too late to expect any visitors.

“Who could that be…?”

A second chime followed shortly afterwards. Not a simple case of a wrong address or a delivery. Someone was there waiting for him. The large, blue-furred lupine Elder moved through his home and reached his front door, waving a paw over the security panel. The door slid aside.

“Teddy,” Knight stated, surprise catching in his throat. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

The human Delver gave him a smarmy smile. “Opening the door to a known Delver without first checking what he wants. That’s one sure way to get yourself killed.”

He lifted a scaly eyebrow. “Do you want to kill me?”

Teddy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “No. Of course not. I just heard from Tyson that you’ve been trying to reach out and thought I’d make a house call.” He hiked a thumb tot he side. “Can we talk?”

Knight glanced over his shoulder. The sounds and noises coming from Salem’s room indicated that his son was already engrossed in whatever game he had picked up.

“Sure. I’ve got time.”

He stepped out of his house, closed the door and gestured towards the bench on his front porch. Teddy led the way and was the first to sit down. The motion spoke of weariness and exhaustion. While the blonde-haired Delver looked healthy enough, there was this troubled energy behind his blue eyes.

“What’s bothering you?” Knight asked.

“A huge sack of omnis,” joked the Delver. “We basically cleaned out Harrow. ‘Course we can’t access it all at once. Would be too suspicious. But it basically meant we’re pretty comfortable for a while. Had to spend a bit of it to make sure we secure the hideout but you could say we’re not going to need to go on a Delve for a bit.”

“But that won’t stop you from engaging in one anyway, will it?” he asked worriedly.

Teddy flashed him a bright grin and then flexed at arm at him. “Got to keep my skills sharp.” Then that smile faded almost immediately as he lowered his arm. “Look, everything that happened reinforced what I already knew. Being a Delver puts my friends and family in danger. It was stupid of me to get Tyson involved.”

“What’s done is -”

The Delver held up a hand. “Let me finish.” Taking a deep breath, Teddy said, “You risked your life and career by making that trip to LA to catch me and support us against Harrow. I can keep an eye on Tyson and I know you can handle yourself but you’ve got your kid to worry about. With the length of deception Harrow went and the threat of this ‘Pauper’ being out there somewhere, I can’t have your kid’s son on my conscience.”

Teddy reached into his trademark red jacket and pulled out a small epitaph. “This is about two million omnis. Not even a dent in what we stole from Harrow so you don’t need to worry about it. Take it. Move somewhere else. Far away from all of this.”

Knight regarded the prism. He was not even tempted to take it in the slightest. “Teddy -”

“Some shit is coming, Knight,” said the Delver firmly. “It’s big. I can feel it. I don’t need my prescience to tell. Harrow was just the tip of the iceberg and something tells me that the ‘Pauper’ is just part of something even bigger. You need to get out while you can. Find somewhere safe.”

He regarded the Delver for a long moment, waiting for anything further. “You done?”

Teddy looked deflated and just offered a small nod.

“I’m not going anywhere, Teddy,” said the Elder firmly. “I became a detective to protect this city. To do what’s right and fix what’s broken. It’s clear that there is something else going on here and I don’t like it. Even if I run away with Salem somewhere, who is to say that where I run off to is any safer? At least here, I know what to look out for. Here, I’ve got people who have my back.”

Teddy cursed under his breath and dropped the epitaph between them. “Fuck… Nya was right. She knew you’d say something like that.”

“We were psionically connected briefly during that one Delve we went on,” Knight ventured.

“Any way I could convince you to drop your job as a detective and join Pulse? I think you’d be a good Commander. You could bring Salem too. We don’t live in luxury but with all the omnis we’ve got recently, we can make it comfortable for you two.”

Something told Knight that this offer carried a little more… weight and sincerity behind it than the previous one.

“I’ll pass. I’d rather stay on this side of the law.” He smirked, folding his arms. “Besides, I think it’d be handy to have a contact in the SCPD. Especially one that could potentially delay police response?”

“Do you think we’re that bad?” Teddy asked defensively.

“Perhaps. I heard the best Delvers can get in and out without ever being heard or causing collateral damage. From what I’ve seen, you guys tend to be very noisy.”

The human gave him a light punch to the shoulder, a smirk on those broad, handsome features. “Says the asshole that strips down to his jockstrap on the first sign of danger. What did Underwood say in court? You in your ‘shockingly revealing underwear’?”

Knight couldn’t help the blush on his cheeks as he turned away. “That wouldn’t be the first time people have seen my ass in court. Doubt it’ll be the last either.”

Teddy snickered. “When you’ve got such fine goods, why hide them?”

There was a moment of silence as Teddy’s words sank in. Then the Delver quickly turned away and coughed, trying to hide his blush. Too bad that his red cheeks were perfectly visible in his reflection in the nearby window. That brought a smile to Knight’s face.

He reached over and gently gripped the Delver’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about me or Salem, Teddy. I’ve got the whole SCPD behind me and you and your brother beside me. Whatever the Pauper has in store for us, we’ll face it head on.”

The Delver took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was visibly relaxing. “Fine. I suppose it’s your funeral.” He got up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “If you need me or Pulse to go on a Delve for you, I’ll give you a discount. As thanks for saving me ass.”

Knight smirked. “A discount, huh?”

Teddy pulled out a hand and held his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Just a little one.”

Time stopped for Knight. For a moment, he looked back at his past. At his career. At his home life. At the man whom he thought he would spend the rest of his life with only for that same man to abandon him with their child. Then he looked at all the decades since then and all the opportunities he had missed because he was so focused on his job or Salem.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted to be selfish… and acted impulsively.

One of his tendrils lashed out, wrapped itself around Teddy’s outstretched hand and pulled the Delver to him. Teddy, caught completely off-guard, slammed into his broad chest, hands pressed against his pectorals and looking up at him with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Knight… What…?”

“I want a little more than ‘a little discount’,” growled Knight.

And the two kissed.

Rise and Fall of the Harrow Smile

Fellow members of Convergence,

The Alms Project is proceeding on schedule. REPAIR has successfully cemented its foothold in the Democracy of the Dollar and is quickly spreading its influence into the other nations and states. The VCDI is making waves all across the CMP and in the month or so since it’s adoption in the Democracy, its citizenry are already touting benefits and higher rates of satisfaction with their infrastructure.

As you are no doubt aware, we did have some difficulty when our agent in Sanctuary City, Casey Harrow, overstepped his boundaries and attempted to prove himself an invaluable resource to Convergence. You will find the details in the report I have provided.

This has no impact on the time line of the Alms Project. Though many other organizations are now vying for control of Harrow’s company where the original plan was for it to just be outright bought out by REPAIR, the public is on our side and we have multiple threads already ensuring that REPAIR will win the bid.

This will ensure that REPAIR will have a foothold in Sanctuary City, the gateway to the other Planes.

I anticipate you will have concerns about ensuring that our other agents and assets do not go rogue much like Harrow did. I will assure you that REPAIR and its executive suite will remain in line and ignorant.

The VCDI will become an interplanar standard.

You all undoubtedly have some concerns about the agents involved in bringing down Harrow’s plot. Rest assured that they are being monitored. There is no concern over their awareness of Inscriptions or their true purpose. Their understanding of the Inscriptions is minimal at best. However, I also understand that many of you will have concerns about leaving a loose thread especially if it threatens your own ability to use your assets with Inscriptions. That is totally understandable.

In anticipation of this, I have already asked my blissfully unaware agents to begin preparations for a way to neutralize these threats. Now I also understand that many of you have concerns about my methods.

Why not just outright kill them?

Why not inflict them with an Inscription?

As you know, that is not how I approach my foes. Every scorned individual, every wronged child and every spurned nation only spawns excuses for other actors to become outraged and insert themselves into a world they are completely unaware and unprepared for. While these annoyances will never be able to understand the scope or benefits of our mission, it is no reason for us to eliminate them because it is simply the most convenient way of removing them.

I have a far more elegant solution.

The best way to remove an enemy is to make sure that they have no reason to hate you. No reason to raise their sword and to want for nothing. I know many of you disagree with my opinion but we all agreed on this approach.

So please trust me and allow me to assuage your concerns.

Everything is progressing as planned.

The day when people will want for nothing is upon us.

• The Pauper