Lazo

The Crucible - Winner Take All

It did not take long for the elevator doors to part before her, presenting the same empty yet illuminated interior it had shown her when she had summoned it on the rooftop. Haltingly, remembering how the doors had closed on their own the first time she had used it, Pithy leaned her body forward, trying to catch a glimpse of any controlling mechanisms before she locked herself inside.

It did not take long for her to discover the panel besides the elevator doors.

Ding.

Pithy started and began to pull back as she heard the noise. She heard the mechanism controlling the doors whir into activity, then quickly halt a moment later.

Pithy frowned, studying the open door. It seems these remain open for as long as one stands in the way. Good design. She wondered as to the trick behind it. The devices within the Justice Hub did not have the feel of sorcery to them, but she wondered how one would accomplish such things without the use of magic.

Gaining confidence, Pithy walked into the elevator, studying the buttons adorning the control panel, along with the accompanying sigils. She ignored the buttons at the very bottom of the panel, finding the markings unhelpful in elucidating their usage, but rapidly deduced that the buttons with numbers represented each of the building’s levels. The notation changed when the numbers reached the ground level, but it was simple enough for her to locate the button corresponding to the lowest level and press it.

The doors closed and the metallic cage shivered, making Pithy throw out a hand to the wall as though expecting the floor to crumble beneath her. A moment later, a low murmur and the rising feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she was descending.

Pithy was forced to wait for the machine to deposit her where it would. The process only took a few seconds, but her hand never abandoned the wall she was using for support, and her eyes kept scanning the walls and ceilings for possible exits until the bell chimed and the doors opened.

Pithy stepped out into the dark hallway warily, holding her rapier at the ready.

As she did, the lights on the ceiling came to life, illuminating her path as they had done in the upper floors. Her stance relaxed when no threats made themselves known.

As promised by Oren, a plaque with words and arrows hanged on a wall, one labeled MAINTENANCE in clear, bold letters. A few other labels stood to attention right under it in smaller font. Pithy’s eyes immediately fixed on the one that read Generator Access.

Marveling (yet slightly perturbed) at the convenience of it all, Pithy began to walk down the corridors.

Barring the lack of windows, the first hallways she walked down reminded her of some of the upper levels. Like above, the few doorknobs she experimentally tugged on refused to budge, but the occasional glass pane revealed offices much like the one she had entered earlier, along with the occasional large table surrounded by chairs that made her think of meeting rooms.

It was only once she discovered and began descending a set of stairs that she began detecting a change in the clean, business-like environment.

Ever so slowly, her surroundings began to look more and more like she had expected a dilapidated ruin to look. Cracks on the walls, open doors, and lights that could no longer tap into whatever mysterious power source allowed the others to remain lit.

It was what she had expected at first, but while part of her mind urged her to feel relieved at the ever so slightly more familiar atmosphere of a ruin, she could not dispel an almost instinctual feeling of apprehension. Abandoned buildings were much like corpses. Rotting ones were not something most would call pleasant.

Still, she had to wonder. These lower floors are not connected to the elevator. Were they added later, or were they purposefully built such that one would not have easy access to this place from upper floors? And this damage… is this how this building looked while it was operational, or has it deteriorated since the place was abandoned? Is it somehow outside of the sphere of influence of whatever keeps the upper facility running smoothly?

Pithy caught herself. The last thought was predicated on the assumption that the place had been abandoned for a meaningful length of time. Her instincts suggested that was the case, but the evidence pointed at a recently abandoned facility.

The maintenance sector, which she knew she had arrived to courtesy of a large sign on the wall, proved to be much less orderly than the administrative sectors of the citadel. Rather than hallways and cleanly arrayed rooms at each side, Pithy was forced to navigate a confusing array of rooms filled to the brim with containers, jugs and bottles of liquids she largely failed to recognize from their labels, and the occasional broom or obvious cleaning instrument that made her suspect as to the purpose of the complex. That said, if probed as to the function of the large boxes with circular glass panes on their front, she could give no satisfactory answer.

She followed the signs through a few more strange rooms, corridors and stairs before she reached the room he sought.

She felt the reverberating drone of machinery before her eyes fell on the closed door. Pithy was deeply aware that, while she knew the word Oren had used to describe her objective, she had no idea as to what the clearly active machinery ahead was generating. There was no telling what she might find. At the very least, something that had managed to scare off the College’s investigators.

Pithy drew some magic into her rapier, shaping a spell. Six blades of ice coalesced behind her, hovering at her flanks like half-spread wings.

With her weapons readied, Pithy tried the door.

The handle turned easily enough, but when she applied force, the door refused to budge. She frowned and shoved her shoulder against it. The door parted ever so slightly at the blow, the latch slipping from its nook.

Not locked. Barred. And by something close to the ground. It immediately crossed her mind that one of the College’s researches may have died pressed against the door, but she was not sure a corpse would account for such a barrier.

She took a step back, considering the obstacle for a moment, before pointing at the door with her rapier.

One of the blades at her side hovered forward and pushed at the uppermost corner of the door until it lodged itself into the crack between it and its frame. At that point, the ice slid down towards the actual block, forcing the slight opening to enlarge as it approached. When it reached the bottom, Pithy made a gesture with her rapier. The crystal suddenly twisted, applying pressure to the center of the barrier as though she was prying the door open with a crowbar.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

The floating familiar finally answered her, as though its owner was taking his time coming out of a stupor. The see-through image of the announcer had lost some of its joviality, and what Pithy had taken to be the machine’s eyes were conspicuously angled away from the badger’s carcass.

She felt a swell of irritation at the thought that the young man overseeing these deathmatches could be having a pang of conscience. You who risk nothing and stand to gain everything through the sacrifices of strangers, and yet can’t stand to lay eyes on the price paid. How dare you cheapen this struggle so?

Still she managed to hold her tongue, understanding there was little to gain and much to lose from antagonizing the boy. When she was offered congratulations and an unexpected boon, she accepted them with an impassive gaze.

She gave the image she received a cursory inspection, but her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the larger figures. A slow breath escaped her nostrils, and she put away the small family portrait as though pouring cold water over her apprehension. The people of the Inquisitional College had already proven they knew more about her and the other competitors than they had any right to. Examining the matter could wait.

And so she found herself listening to the wistful words of the young announcer.

“I’ve often found myself wondering: do animals have noble souls? We think of them as so far beneath us, but in my experience, animals can be every bit as noble. It might seem silly to ya, but ya know, for a while I lived in the wild with ‘em. Wolves, ravens, rats…”

Pithy did not know whether to take the boy’s words at face value. She supposed it did not matter. Whether he had been raised by wolves or not was not the crux of the issue.

“If they have souls, some of those souls may be noble,” she admitted. Even then, the distinction meant little to her. Her concerns were ever more practical. “If they do not, I nearly died for nothing.”

The announcer let out a restrained laugh. She was not sure if her matter-of-fact words had roused him or if he had caught himself, but he quickly recovered the irritating persona he had first greeted her with. Pithy sighed, forcing herself to listen through the forced plays on words for whatever useful information the young man saw fit to give her.

Soon enough, the announcer had said his piece, and the image fizzled out, the familiar hovering back and studying her through mechanical eyes.

Pithy promptly spun on her heel and began to walk away from the burning storehouse, heading for the illuminated path.

The announcer had outlined her options. West to the coast. North to the city proper. East to her next enemy. South was out-of-bounds, whatever that meant. Would she find some kind of barrier or wall were she to head that way, or would she be disqualified from this tournament, whatever that entailed? She did not feel eager to see what would happen if she tried. However, not matter what she chose, there was a simple matter the announcer had neglected to consider in his explanation.

Under the cloudy skies of an alien world, Pithy had no immediate way of knowing the direction of the cardinal points.

It was because of this that she was making her way back to the citadel she had first appeared on. She had lost her bearings while chasing her previous opponents, but she had seen the beach from the rooftop of the building and as such could use the structure to orient herself.

Pithy allowed herself to consider her options as she walked.

The announcer had hinted at another ‘gan’-wielder. Whether they were as proficient as the badger had been remained to be seen, but the words of their overseer led her to believe they had the tools to be even more dangerous.

Staying in place and preparing for an assault brought its own difficulties. Even if she had time to prepare within this military facility, how likely was it that her enemy might find ways to turn the battlefield against her, as the badger had done? If the roiling skies above her finally caved and released a downpour, she might be able to take advantage of it. Would the water affect the weapons? It turned the shooters from her world even more unreliable, but she doubted that would apply to the ones the competition wielded. There were also plenty of places to hide from the rain.

Would the open space of a beach make for a better battlefield, then? She found herself recalling the final moments of the fight with the badger. The hastily conjured shield she had brought up had been destroyed by the beast’s shooters. Simply standing in an open space while facing an enemy with this kind of ranged weapon would be the height of stupidity. The sand would also make for treacherous terrain. If she could lead the enemy into such a position, however…

A pang of pain interrupted her thought, and she brought a gloved hand to her head. The cut she had sustained ached, but it was small. A burst of cold like ice numbed the wound.

The citadel was not far away now. She could see it rising over the buildings before her, but she kept walking. She recalled the corridors with words signaling underground access in the citadel’s ground floor.

The announcer had also asked a favor of her. Ordinarily, she might have placed more weight on the idea of being owed by an organization whose work seemed rooted in the study of mysterious machines and magical artefacts, but ordinarily she would also be working under the assumption that she would be able to call on those debts at a later date.

There will be no later if I am killed by whatever is down there. Or by another competitor. Should that not be my priority?

There was, however, no telling what she might find in the Justice Hub’s underground. There very well might be a device capable of aiding her below. Or at best hinder her next opponent, should they find her. She would not be surprised to learn the announcer had already informed her enemy of her position. It was possible that if she chose to explore the underground, she would have to fight her enemy in this area once again.

Her footsteps eventually drew her back to the citadel’s doors, the drone hovering a few paces behind her. She placed her hand on the swinging door, then grunted, the words of an old fable running through her head. If she did not know where she wished to go, it did not matter which way she turned.

“Announcer,” she called, pulling her hand away and turning to the watching familiar. Belatedly, she realized she had no clue as to the young man’s name. Asking had not so much as crossed her mind. She had a good idea as to the reason for that. “Hey. Kid.”

Her words went unacknowledged by the unthinking droid for a few quiet moments. The rumble of distant thunder resounded through the heavens, and a moment after, a nigh-indiscernible beep accompanied the illumination of a tiny green light next to the drone’s main optic. Something that sounded suspiciously like the slurp of a drink reached Pithy through the communicator, and after it came the voice the cryomancer had come to know and hate. “I gotta name, ya know. Don’t wear it out. They ain’t paying me the big bucks to be a living F.A.Q.” He likely realized that she had no clue what he meant, but did not seem too bothered by it. “Oren. Erumel. My old buddies—and yes, I did have buddies—called me the Genie, ‘cause I always tried to help people out. Nothing like the Wishing Machine, though. What’s eating ya?” His image leaned back in its chair, and he clasped his hands behind his head in a position of relaxation.

Oren, then. Whoever had given this one an affectionate nickname had clearly been armed with more patience than her. “I’m thinking of checking underground, but I expect some support if I do. There’s no point to doing work that’s already been done. I want a guide to the ‘generator’ room and help with the machines I’m not familiar with.” Namely, most that she had seen so far, but she felt that should best remain unsaid.

The easygoing smile on Oren’s face broadened. “Neheh, that’s funny. As it happens, I’m not privy to the College’s inner workings. Truth be told, I don’t think they like me. Can ya imagine?”

Oh, I can imagine.

“There should be lots of signs around to guide ya, and I saw ya use the elevator, so help yours-’elf’. I think you’ll be just fine. As for support, you’ve seen everything my drones can do, and they’re not all that great indoors.”

Pithy clicked her tongue. She had not expected armed help, but if the boy had no knowledge of any previous expeditions to the facility, he would be of limited use.

“I imagine your bosses won’t be too enthused by how little you did to convince me to do the College’s work for them,” she prodded nonetheless. There was little meaning to the jab at that point. She was merely fishing for reactions or information.

“Meh!”

Gods I hate him.

“It’s all bonus.” Oren evidently took the woman’s reaction as dismissal. “Guess ya don’t want any reward. Favors aside, coulda been anything down there, like more artifacts.”

“Or more turrets. Or more of what spooked the College’s teams. I suppose if I die in that hole the tournament can keep going without a hitch, then. Or are you that confident in the abilities of the freaks you brought here?”

“Are you? I thoughtcha guys were supposed to be strong enough to claim a wish--the best thing there is. Handling a trigger-happy badger wasn’t the best showcase of your abilities, but ya seem tough enough. Tougher ‘n me, that’s for sure.” He shrugged. “Whatever. Means more for us!” The announcer chuckled for a moment, then leaned forward into the camera, his voice growing low. “Speaking of which, since you’re free...if ya ever make your way to the Governmental Hub, where your next opponent is, there’s another little something ya might busy yours-’elf’ with, neheh.”

Pithy rubbed at her temple. “Stars, quit that. I heard you the first time.”

Oren’s eyelid twitched. Had he really already used that one? He needed to pay better attention, lest his humor begin to grow annoying. “A-ah, I see. Well. Better deal than poking around beneath the fort if ya ask me.”

She sighed. Her enemy would have fought their first round somewhere in the Governmental Hub. They would have some knowledge of the terrain and the possibility to prepare ambushes for her if they chose to wait.

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you, Oren,” she added to her dismissal, if only to maintain the pretense of civility. The announcer’s face faded out, and the little light by the main lens went with it, leaving Pithy alone with the soulless automaton once again.

The relief she felt at her solitude in an alien military facility was more than a little telling. Still, that had not been as productive as she had hoped. All that talk had earned her was a headache, and the knowledge that there were more opportunities for her to risk her life to the east. Fantastic. Just what I needed.

It did not make choosing a course of action any simpler. Which also meant it was the simplest thing in the world. If she already stood to lose everything, how much meaning was there to hedging her bets? If she was to find a shaved knuckle in the hole, her most immediate bet was what was under the Justice Hub.

With that resolution, she entered the building and headed for the elevator as Oren had suggested. The wait that ensued once she had pressed the button afforded her ample time to reflect on how many ways her plans could go sideways.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Hey, we got Binding of Isaac pick-ups over here.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

At the prompting of the taunting gunshots, Pithy rushed out of the ruined barracks in time to see the honey badger that had caused her so much trouble dive into an alleyway behind the stack of boxes it had used as cover only a few minutes prior. Pithy ran to the mouth of the alley, momentarily pausing to glance at the discarded fast shooters.

Empty, she assumed. Still, the sight of them made her hesitate. Had the hatted badger sprinkled the area with similar surprises for her? It was such a thought that prompted her not to dismiss her barrier of ice this time, the object obediently hovering behind her. How did it even get the chance to prepare like this? Was it dropped inside an armory?

Until then, her small enemy had been following an illuminated path that had made its route predictable and made ambushes difficult, but in the darker alleyways, with her night vision ruined by the artificial lights all over the area, Pithy would be forced to follow along the same trail, giving her enemy ample opportunities to surprise her.

It was then that an outraged shriek sounded out from ahead, followed by a crack of thunder.

Pithy instantly set herself on the path at a run, berating herself for wasting time. The frenzied encounters had made her forget, but there had been a cloud of bats trying to get at the badger when she had first come across it. It would likely be too busy fending off the black wings to properly lay in ambush. There was a reason her enemy had avoided the dark spaces between buildings until then. Which means that if it’s using them now, it must have a destination it wishes to reach quickly.

By the time Pithy caught up with her foe, she had been proven right. After a few twists, turns, furious screeches, explosive rapports and winged corpses, the alley opened, letting a building many times larger than most of its surrounding brethren into view. It was largely featureless beyond its size, and had what seemed like large, sealed entrances at its front, where a large space was empty and illuminated. It was along the side of the building that Pithy saw a more familiar door, along with the small, furry figure of the hatted badger running towards it. Pithy wasted no time chasing after it.

The badger reached the door first, shouldering it open—the lock had been destroyed before-hand, Pithy realized—and pausing to make a rude gesture with its paw at her.

“Come get me, honky b—” That was as far as the foul-mouthed critter got before a blast of wind slammed the door inwards and sent the badger flying into the building.

Pithy strode to the door, moving her barrier to her front and summoning a pair of ice blades to flank her. The lights inside the building rapidly came on as she set foot within, revealing rows upon rows of storage racks. However, the woman’s eyes were quickly drawn to the hatted animal staggering to its hind-legs.

Its teeth were bared in an expression Pithy took to be a smile. An aggravating one. “Damn, girl, where you holding out on—” The blades hovering at Pithy’s side shot forward, forcing the badger to shoot at one and duck under the other. The sharpshooter quickly dove through an empty pallet to another corridor, leaving Pithy’s line of sight.

Pithy held a hand back, pressing it against the destroyed lock of the door she had walked in from. Is this why you led me here? Wished to settle in a place with enough cover to hide behind? Fine, but there will be no more running away. A short moment later ice affixed the broken door to its doorframe.

But now the badger was out of sight, though the lack of claws skittering over the stone floor in the silence made her think it had not moved far. Waiting to strike in ambush, perhaps.

Pithy’s rapier glowed as several crystal spheres formed around her. She threw them over the pallets, and with an effort of will, the crystal shattered into a rain of sharpened shards.

Pithy heard a hissed curse and the badger dove out from the end of the racket row Pithy stood on. Guns blared, but Pithy moved in time to intercept the projectiles with her barrier.

A third shot cracked against the metal rack behind Pithy, and a sudden pain on the back of her left shoulder made her stumble, but before her enemy could press the advantage, another half-dozen spheres had formed behind her.

This skirmish with the foul-mouthed badger had dragged on for long enough to irritate Pithy, and as it had always done for the mage, anger threw matters into cold relief. The critter had said so itself, had it not? Not fast enough and not plenty enough. If that was its wish, Pithy would accommodate her. But while Pithy could sustain her assault for as long as her body did not give out, her enemy was limited to the projectiles that fit its weapons.

A few of the spheres, smaller as they were compared to the ones she had used in their first encounter, exploded into mist besides her, others were simply pushed back by what Pithy quickly realized was the bouncing ammunition. The rest shattered into cones of shrapnel directed at the shooter.

The badger dove out of the way, but before it could attempt a counterattack, another crystal ball rolled up to the corner. Pithy heard a curse and the scrabbling of claws on stone just before the crystal exploded. Pithy steadily strode forward, ignoring the shards that clattered against her barrier as she summoned more crystal spheres around her.

At first the sound of gunfire joined the sound of ice breaking like glass, but the rapid, thunderous sound of the badger’s six-shooters soon tapered off as the small beast struggled to juggle destroying the spheres, load new bullets into her weapons as well as jumping into cover to avoid the shrapnel she could not get rid of.

There were no taunts coming from the badger now.

Pithy made sure to toss the occasional exploding crystal ahead of where the badger attempted to flee, corralling it in. At times, she simply left them without detonating them as leftover hazards to activate should the enemy attempt to flee her. If the badger had hidden weapons in this area, she either could not reach them due to Pithy’s persistent assault, or understood that she needed the ability to rapidly shoot the spheres down to make openings for itself. Those that did explode or were destroyed by the badger’s shooters left behind a smattering of mist that soon enough began to cover the area in fine diamond dust. The enemy had chosen this territory for their battle, but with a sustained effort of will, Pithy was turning it into her own.

Here and there she came across droplets of fresh blood, evidence that some of the shards had hit their mark. The continuing struggle made it clear that these were flesh wounds at best, but she knew this could not continue for long.

Perhaps realizing that things would only turn bleaker if she continued to run, Trickshot Jo took that moment to make her move.

The badger jumped out of the way of another rain of shrapnel onto a pallet, hiding behind a crate and aiming along its side with her shooter.

Pithy pulled her shield in front of her as she had done before. She did not fear being struck by another bouncing projectile. She had stopped seeing them once the badger realized they could not break the spheres.

Thunder cracked, but this shot was not aimed at her.

The bullet struck at one of the legs supporting a loaded rack, and the metal dented. Pithy heard more than saw the metal groan and bend as the weight it supported was thrown out of balance.

One crate, large enough to fully fill the pallet it was stored on, slid and began to fell, forcing Pithy to backpedal in order to avoid being crushed. The crate smashed itself on the ground, sending splinters flying. The rack’s own fall was stopped when it crashed onto one of its neighbors, the sudden stop sending its contents sliding down its side.

Pithy continued to back away, forced to lift her barrier to avoid the detritus. Just as she cleared the pallet, she caught sight of the badger again. It was at the top of one of the racks, and had just hoisted a large, tubular object larger than the critter itself over one shoulder. It staggered more than turned to aim it in her direction, and the open hole at the end of the weapon reminded her vividly of a cannon.

The vicious glint in the critters eyes reaffirmed her instinctual thought that a barrier would not be enough to stop that weapon.

So she swept her rapier forward and sent out a hastily formed blast of wind at the badger.

The small animal tipped back under the force of the wind, throwing her aim wide just as it pressed the trigger, and the rocket sailed over Pithy. It crashed against a mound of containers behind her, the explosion sending her to her knees. And then there was another explosion.

Pithy felt the heat on her back and the wave of pressure picking her up for one weightless moment before she was slammed against the collapsed rack.

Her vision went dark.

---

She could not have been unconscious for more than a few seconds, but when she came to, the relative silence of the facility had been replaced by the ululating sound of a siren. Water was sprinkling down from above even though the last time she had looked, she had been inside a building.

But it is dark, she mused, slowly trying to piece together her thoughts. She recalled the weapon the badger had levelled at her, along with the ensuing explosion. Did that break the lights? Feeling her face, she groggily realized that her hair had been matted down by the water and was covering her good eye. She parted it, hissing as she touched what felt like a warm gash on her scalp, and studied her surroundings. The lights in the immediate vicinity had indeed gone out, but the light coming from the flaming wreckage behind her, along with lights from further within the building were enough to see by.

That explosive must have hit something flammable…

Water streamed down from the ceiling, a system clearly set in place to combat incidents such as this one, but whatever had caught on flames was rapidly catching on to other crates despite the rain. Pithy herself was in a nook between collapsed racks. If a gunshot from the badger had been enough to topple one, she imagined the explosion would have done better.

She counted herself lucky not to have been crushed as she crawled out from the crevice and gathered her feet under her. Her rapier was only a short distance away, and she quickly grabbed it.

From between gaps in the collapsed pallets, she caught sight of the large entrances she had seen before, now open. She set out towards them, knowing that any second spent in the flaming storehouse might meet her with another explosion. She was not eager to learn how many of those containers held something that would gleefully detonate when in contact with fire.

---

Metal surfaces slid and clicked against each other, bullets falling neatly into place in their chambers. Joanne Schrodinger hunched outside of the building, leaning against a wall as she reloaded her weapons with a practiced paw. The sirens blared from the storehouse she had just left, nurturing her growing headache.

These people’s toys were destructive, if nothing else. Not as elegant or as comfortable as her own revolvers, not by far, but the experience had been something. At least until the honky bitch had turned on the heat on her.

Or whatever the opposite o’that would be.

Blood ran down from several small cuts she had suffered, most concentrated in the limbs she had had to use to cover her vitals as she tried to escape the exploding crystals.

Should’ve killed the bitch quick instead of having her give me the run around, she reflected, but quickly dismissed the thought.

Trickshot Jo was not one for regrets. Better to go out and fix the damn problem than to sit back thinking on it. She intended to do just that. She had managed to find the switch that opened the big sliding doors at the front of the warehouse and stepped out for air. Now, with her guns reloaded, she would go back inside, find the ice woman and pop a cap on her while she wasn’t looking.

She turned around to see the woman only a few meters away. Her rapier was raised and one hand was aglow, another of those stupid shields forming in front of her. This was the end of the contest. Jo had been seen first.

But the trickshot was a quickshot as well. Her guns raised as though of their own volition and the hammers struck down. The bullets slammed against the barrier, sending a spiderweb of cracks running down its surface.

This one’s weak! she crowed in her mind. It did not matter why, as long as she could break through it.

But just as she cocked the hammers back down, blades formed at the woman’s side and launched themselves at Joanne. Acute reflexes honed by life as an acrobat and sharpshooter had her jumping up, letting one blade sail under her even as she fired a bullet into the other one.

Still in the air, she aimed another shot at the shield. This time, the crystal surface shattered, letting her see the woman behind it even as she cocked the hammer on her other revolver. She couldn’t comprehend what she saw.

How can this bitch be this stupid?

The woman had a six-shooter on her hand, the one she had embarrassed herself with earlier, and it was leveled straight at the Trickshot.

This sealed the deal. Victory was hers. The woman might fire, but she would miss. A wasted effort. Unimpeded, Jo’s next bullet would find the ice woman’s head, sealing her defeat and taking care of one of her Captain’s foes.

And yet, in the moment before she pulled the trigger, she saw something unnerving in the woman’s blue bombardier’s eye.

---

Fire erupted from both weapons.

As all except perhaps she expected, Pithy’s head whipped back, and the woman tumbled to the ground.

The badger landed messily, the six-shooters falling from her paws. As it rolled itself to lay facing up on the pavement, it exposed a large, bleeding hole on her gut, where much of the stomach and intestines would normally be. The revolver, made for big-game hunting, had wrought havoc on the small animal’s body, and it left it facing up on the ground, conscious, but breathing laboriously.

The winged drone hovered closer, almost uncertainly. This was not an ideal outcome, to say the least. If both combatants died together, what would become of the project? All that the College had set in motion could not be undone by a single stroke of rotten luck, could it?

And then, the body of the elf shivered. The drone distanced itself slightly as the woman slowly picked herself up, revolver still in one hand, rapier on the other.

Once she had her feet under her, Pithy slowly walked to the mortally wounded badger, pausing only to look down at it.

The glazing orbs of the shooter’s eyes regained some focus, fixing on her. It coughed painfully in its woman’s voice. “That revolver is too damn big for you… girl. Heh… done in by… fu… done in by beginner’s luck…” it wheezed. “How are you standing? I got you. I saw it get you.”

Silently, Pithy parted her hair, revealing the mask of ice covering the right side of her face. Where her eye would be, there was a crack, with a darker mound sticking out of it. Pithy dug at it with the tip of her sword, letting the smashed bullet fall to the ground. She did not need to hear the crackling of forming ice to know the fracture was repairing itself before the badger’s eyes.

She had been saved by the affliction she wished to remove. The irony was not lost on her.

It did not matter. Pithy had long ago learned that she could not afford to be overly fastidious. As for the stunt with the gun, that, too, had been the best idea she could come up with in the moment, and it had been a gamble. Neither was that something new. Nearly a half-century ago, Pithy had gambled with her life in a much deeper sense. She had done so numerous times since then.

Some might even say that the original wager is still ongoing. What is this in the face of that?

“Heh.” The badger’s gaze dropped to the bullet on the ground. “A freak… with freaky luck.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“I ain’t no freak. Don’t… make me laugh... I’ll cough stuff up.” The badger’s eyelids began to droop, and she looked past Pithy and into the sky. You could not see stars in that sky, hidden as they were by the lights below. Slowly, in the wings of a deep, struggling breath, its paws reached towards its bandoliers. “Nobody tell'im I said so, but it's the least I can do... for my cap'n. All I know is I ain’t waiting for this to take me.”

Pithy stepped back, bringing up her cloak to cover her face as lightning arched from the ammunition in the badger’s body.

The distinct stench of seared meat filled her nostrils a moment later, and she looked down at the corpse of her enemy. Smoke rose from the bandolier, and Pithy could see the projectiles that had been detonated. Its eyes were still open, unseeing, and its expression struck Pithy as one of intense agony. Or it could have been a dark satisfaction. She was too unfamiliar with the creature’s features to tell those apart.

A last ditch effort to take me with it? The blasted animal could not even die properly. Not all the dying had a chance to leave any last words to one who would hear them. So be it. If the beast had chosen to eschew a solemn end for a painful one, that was its prerogative.

Pithy sheathed her weapons and knelt over the badger, snatching the phylactery from its breast. It seemed to be inactive, but Pithy might still be able to learn something of use with it.

Then, she took one of the animal’s revolvers in her hand. It is a good name for these weapons. She spun it around, letting the cylinder containing its ammunition open, and compared them to those held by the one she had found. Pithy frowned. Wrong size.

She stole a glance at the ammunition still intact in the badger’s bandolier, then thought against it. The badger’s weapons could have come in handy, but she was too unfamiliar with the weaponry to make proper use of the animal’s strange ammunition. She left the weapons where she found them.

Instead, she once again turned her examination to the animal’s body and, after a moment’s consideration, took the small shooter also hanging from the beast’s neck.

With that, she tied the chains of both necklaces, the one with the gun and the one with the heart, to her belt.

The woman stood. She was drenched from head to toe. Blood was seeping from her scalp onto her cheek, and she could feel bruises forming under her clothes. This fight had been more exhausting than she had expected, though considering the badger’s skill with its chosen armament, the fact that she had escaped the debacle with only minor wounds was quite the feat in itself.

Still, the idea of enduring similar fights one after the other did not fill her with confidence. She wondered if there was medicine and food to be found in this facility. Would I even recognize it as such?

“How odd of you to wait, announcer,” she called out dryly to the drone still hovering nearby. “The badger is dead. What now?”

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Pithy’s chase led her through a small maze in the spaces between each building and facility as she attempted to head off her small enemy. A rapport sounded out occasionally, the sound she had come to associate with the honeybadger’s shooters telling her she was on the right track, but the frequency of the sound was unsettling her.

She had little doubt in her mind that her foe was trying to lead her somewhere, but she was stuck giving pursuit.

Rounding another corner, Pithy finally sighted the hatted honeybadger racing through the streets. Its gaze had not yet found the mouth of the dark alley Pithy stood at, fixed as they were on a group of stacked crates by the street. Pithy’s own position had little cover to speak of, but the light of the poles did not reach her, leaving her shrouded in darkness, and she could see the outline of a side-door to one of the buildings besides her.

She readied her rapier, materializing another host of crystalline blades.

However, before she could launch them at her target, one of the black-winged creatures infesting the Justice Hub let out a screech from above before swooping down at the intruder. One of the blades swept up, immediately silencing it, but the Trickshot’s eyes had already settled on the dark pathway.

The badger began to turn, her paws going to her six-shooters. Pithy saw this and launched her projectiles.

In a surprising display of agility, the badger leapt towards the boxes. Pithy’s first blade swept under the animal. The next few exploded into fine mist against the thunder of the badger’s shooters, and just like that the creature had ducked behind cover. The rest of Pithy’s projectiles either sailed uselessly over the crates or impaled themselves on the boxes.

She swore under her breath, cursing the local wildlife. Her eyes fell on the door next to her, and she reached out just as her enemy’s voice reached her.

“Not good enough, girl! Not fast enough, and not plenty enough! In fact—”

Pithy didn’t bother to check if the door was open. She waved a hand at the handle as she moved and ice sprouted around and within the mechanism with a grinding sound. She slammed her shoulder onto it and the door flew inwards, the ice giving way for her and releasing the destroyed lock.

“—I’ll show you how it’s done.”

She barely had the chance to see the badger step away from the crates, two box-like shooters on its paws, before she was inside the room.

From a pair of large windows at the building’s front, the poles’ light streamed in, illuminating rows of beds with unique personal effects lying atop each.

She could also immediately tell that the room’s walls were much thinner than those of the citadel she had been dropped at.

This she knew because the moment she stepped inside, a hole appeared in it and something whizzed past her. It was followed by multiple others as she threw herself to the floor, hearing the small projectiles whizz overhead.

The windows burst open and sent glass flying everywhere. Bullets crashed against the furniture, chipping the wood and denting the metal, making the contents of the mattresses and pillows explode outwards. As Pithy stayed prone, one hand over her head in what was likely a vain gesture, the room was turned inside-out by the badger’s shooters.

It only lasted for three seconds, but it left the interior in ruins.

When the thunder paused, Pithy glanced upwards, blood thumping against her ears. Part of her marveled at the weapons’ execution. She had to wonder what such a weapon would make of a cavalry charge. It would seem the people of this where have perfected the art of killing other people. These shooters seem uniquely suited for murder, and, without an ounce of magic in them, any might wield them.

However, academic or philosophical concerns were best left aside for the moment. The larger part of her was more concerned about waiting for another barrage.

When seconds passed without pandemonium breaking out again, Pithy realized the badger must have been waiting for signs of movement. That said, there was no telling how long that would last, and it would be best not to be laid out on the floor when that happened.

She glanced at the window, and a thought struck her.

With a practiced ease, she undid the clasp on her robe and removed the article of clothing. She pulled it over her rapier, hiding the glow of the runes as she conjured a hunk of crystal to fill up its contents. Once she was satisfied, she grasped the ice with her magic.

From outside the building, it was immediately visible when a blue-cowled figure stood, clearly illuminated by the pale light of the streets.

The thunder of a six-shooter came almost as immediately, and Pithy let the dummy crumple to the ground. There had been a spark of pale blue when the projectile had struck the robes, but Pithy had no time to investigate.

She quickly got on her knees, leaving the cloak where it was, and hastily crawled deeper into the building. A makeshift barracks, she guessed. Temporary? It doesn’t matter.

She opened the door, but the lack of windows within made it too dark to see its contents. As long as bats did not suddenly screech and come hurtling towards her this, too, did not matter. Once within, she took the chance to summon another thick sheet of ice to use as protection.

She left the door slightly ajar so that she could spy into the other room. There was no doubt in her mind that the badger would be coming into the building soon, looking to confirm Pithy’s death.

She was not disappointed. After a half a minute of waiting the barrack’s side door cracked open, slowly at first, and then fully, admitting the furred shooter into the room. It had its six-shooters in its paws as its eyes scanned its surroundings, checking for the dark corners of the room. As the badger’s gaze swept over the door she was hiding behind, Pithy tensed, expecting the shooting to resume, but the animal’s eyes carried on, fixing instead on a piece of blue and golden fabric peeking from behind a bed. It began to approach.

The badger’s words earlier words crossed her mind, and Pithy found her free hand slowly withdrawing the six-shooter she had found from its sheath. She did not think the creature would be able to shoot down projectiles fired from this machine. She leaned slightly on the door, letting it open slightly to improve her view on her target. The barrel of her weapon peeked out.

The hatted badger rounded the bed, shooters high, but all it saw was Pithy’s cloak over a mound too small and angular to be a body.

Pithy fired.

And instantly realized she had made a mistake.

The projectile went wide, slamming against one of the beds with a muffled thump, and the unexpected kickback tore the weapon from her hand.

The badger turned to look at her at once, aiming one of the six-shooters at the door, and had Pithy not prepared a barrier before-hand, the sudden rapport of the weapon would have been accompanied by a gush of blood from her center.

The badger laughed when she realized what had happened. "Girl you ain't even know howta pop, quit makin' yourself look like a damned dumb bitch!"

Pithy fumed and pushed forward into the room, making a gesture with her now free hand. The hunk of crystal hidden under her cloak rose with it, crashing against the animal’s unprotected side.

The impact sent it tumbling to crash against the leg of a nearby bed.

Pithy couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction at the creature’s pained gasp. “This is not my style, but I’ll bludgeon you to death if I have to,” she said as she made another gesture. The chunk of ice launched itself against the badger once more.

The critter bared its teeth and raised its second shooter. It was not aimed anywhere near Pithy, but when thunder cracked, she felt a sudden swell of pain on her right leg. Surprise robbed her of her control over the projectile, and the badger took the chance to roll to the side, letting the hunk of crystal crash against the leg of the bed hard enough to break it.

“You gettin’ ahead of yourself, sugar,” the badger mocked. Before Pithy could launch another projectile, the creature had jumped on one of the beds and leapt out of the front window. “Show’s not over yet!”

Pithy moved forward into the room with a fearsome scowl, but found herself limping slightly. She glanced down at her leg, and saw some red where her enemy’s projectile had torn the thin fabric and broken skin. Barely, at that, but it felt as though someone had taken a whip to her thigh. There was some relief to the fact that there was not a bloody hole there. Perhaps a trade-off for the feat of reaching her without aiming at her?

She grunted. If it was just pain, she could ignore it. She would, however, have to keep in mind that blocking line of sight would not stop every projectile the badger threw at her.

She picked up her cloak from the floor, dusting off some of the detritus of the room from it and then, after some consideration, found her six-shooter and placed it back in its holster.

Outside, she heard the sound of gunshots, telling her the chase was on again.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Another shot rang out on the coattails of Oren’s announcement, and had the man not had the wherewithal to put the familiar behind cover, Pithy had little doubt the construct would be sporting a large hole in its center. She was almost disappointed that was not the case.

“Butt out, boy! I don’t need you telling me when to start!”

She found herself echoing the ornery badger’s thoughts. She was tempted to break the toy herself if only to keep the loose-tongued young man from hinting at any more of her capabilities. However, there was no denying they were wasting time.

Pithy glanced to the side without breaking from her cover. She could not see her opponent without peeking around the wall, but she could still see plenty of bat corpses on the ground. Was that one corpse per shot?

Damn close if not, she concluded, thinking back to when she had seen the furry creature shooting at the fluttering monsters.

It was possible that whatever wizard had decided to spend so much effort on giving the thing sapience might also have done something to boost its proficiency with the six-shooters. Walking out unprepared would be a good way to have her head split open. Never mind death, she did not think she could live with the shame of being bested by a hat-wearing weasel.

“I’ve got an idea,” the voice of the badger reached around the corner. Was that metallic rasp that reached her ears the sound of the badger loading ammunition into her shooters? Pithy had to force herself not to peek out to see how she could manage the feat with those little paws. “This is supposed to be a tournament, yeah? So why not make it a duel, like those fools in the mainland. They say it’s the ci-vi-lized way to go about killing.” She spoke as though the word was both unfamiliar and worthy of contempt, but Pithy thought she could detect a hint of wry amusement. “You can even pick the weapon of choice, girl. Gun or Sword? Not a bad deal.”

’Gan’? Is that what they call those shooters in her world? With an effort of will, a large sheet of ice, large enough to hide behind, materialized before her, hovering a few inches before her free hand. “A duel, you say?” she answered, playing along with the badger. “And what would you say if I chose the sword?”

“Perfect. Leaves the gun for me.”

Pithy tried to focus her hearing. Two crystalline spheres roughly the size of her head now hovered over the tip of her rapier. Has she moved from her perch? I don’t think she has yet. Pithy hummed loudly as if weighing the clearly ludicrous idea in her mind, taking the chance to steady herself. Finally, after a moment—

“Deal.”

The crystalline spheres shot out to the open as though she had lobbed them. The rapport of six-shooters instantly rang out cleanly shattering the crystals into multiple shards of ice. Pithy’s rapier slashed down, and as though hearing an unvoiced command, the sharp ice was suddenly redirected in the direction of the hatted badger.

There was a surprised exclamation and the sound of something falling. “Those ain’t swords, bitch!” And Pithy turned the corner, bringing the large sheet of ice before her like portable cover.

Trickshot Jo’ had fallen from the top of the carriage and was standing on the dashboard behind a sheet of glass with multiple shards of ice embedded in it. She aimed her six-shooters at Pithy and fired twice. One destroyed the glass cover. The other one crashed into Pithy’s barrier .

A lance of ice materialized besides Pithy and shot forward like a missile, aimed straight at the small creature, who fell backwards into the vehicle proper. The icicle struck a red barrel loaded at the back of the carriage, which rapidly began leaking its contents.

Pithy continued to move forwards and to the left, conjuring a set of transparent blades behind her. If she could only get a good view of the small creature, she would be able to settle things quickly.

As she moved, there was a sound like loud purring, and the metallic carriage seemed to tremble. Pithy paused in her approach, only to be suddenly blinded when the two crystals at the front of the vehicle lit up. The purring turned into a roar, and Pithy instinctively threw herself to the side. She heard more than saw the vehicle crash into a pillar behind her, making the spotlights fixed atop it shake and wink in and out.

It was in this confusion that she caught sight of the small, dark-furred creature running towards the street’s corner.

Pithy pointed her rapier to one of the ice blades, which had fallen to the ground when she had jumped out of the vehicle’s way, and it shot out towards the badger.

The creature seemed to have an impeccable sense of danger, for even as Pithy had begun pointing her magical focus at her weapon, the badger was turning towards her, bringing the six-shooters to bear. The first shot crashed against the crystal projectile, throwing it off-course.

Pithy brought her barrier up with her free-hand, expecting another bullet to be shot at her, but instead, Trickshot Jo aimed past her.

The second shot found the barrels loaded at the back of the jeep. A sound like thunder echoed throughout the Justice Hub.

Far as the carriage was behind her, the heat wave from the resulting fireball threw Pithy to her knees. She had enough of her wits about her that she could still hold her barrier in front of her, but could do little beyond looking on, wide-eyed, as the badger rounded the corner shouting something she could barely hear through her ringing ears.

Just then, the light that had been illuminating the streets went out, and the pillar holding it fell against one of the nearby buildings. Pithy spared the flaming, wrecked vehicle that had replaced the spotlight as a source of illumination an appraising look before standing. She did so less steadily than she would have liked, but she was not injured as far as she could tell.

Pithy scowled as the realization came to her that the encounter had not been entirely improvised. Alien as they both were to this realm, her enemy had just enough knowledge of the machines of this place over Pithy to take advantage of them.

She grunted and began to run, the rising adrenaline making short-work of her disorientation. Rather than chasing after her enemy directly and risking being shot as she turned the corner, she ducked into one of the alleys between facilities. As absurd as that thing’s aim had been, it was still a honey badger. Pithy had no doubt that she could head it off if she made haste, particularly if it insisted on that ridiculous two-legged gait.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

May I comment on how fitting it is that the Bloodborne character is plunging into the lair of an eldritch horror?

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Pithy did not bother sweeping the rest of the floors, instead following the staircase down to the ground level.

The stairs led out to what seemed to Pithy to be a large receiving area. There was a long, oval desk with machines much like the glass box she had encountered above, and hallways led out to the right and left of it, both reading ‘UNDERGROUND ACCESS FOR PERSONNEL ONLY’. She thought she could see the glare of red eyes from deeper inside.

More pertinent to her situation, there was a set of double doors at the opposite end of the room, with the same ‘EXIT’ sign she had seen on the rooftop hanging from above it.

Pithy began to walk forward, rapier in hand and eye darting to and fro, scanning for turrets she might have missed. She reached the entrance without incident, and pushed it open with her free hand.

The night air greeted her

Pithy couldn’t help but to feel a measure of relief at being outside the strange building. The walls and ceiling may have provided cover from threats, but the lack of life beyond black-winged monstrosities and the uncertainty that she might accidentally trigger some kind of alarm or defense system in her search had never left the back of her mind.

Her current surroundings were no less strange, but at least they were improved by a clear view of the sky above.

As she had seen from the rooftop, large poles were placed along the path, evenly spaced from on another. Focus lights were attached to them, sending light streaming down in wide beams that illuminated the way from building to building, but here and there, intermittently between poles along the sides of buildings and within the alleys between each facility, the dark remained deep enough that she feared someone might be staring straight at her.

She considered stepping out from the illuminated path so her eyes could adjust to the darkness, but the fluttering of wings and sudden, shifting movements in the darkness dissuaded her. She noted that bloodied corpses of the dark, winged things had begun to accumulate on the illuminated path before the entrance—no doubt the work of the turrets in the rooftop. Less than she expected, however.

The dark trails leading into the dark told her all she needed to know. It seemed the local wildlife would not waste a free meal no matter the source.

She wondered if that had been the intended purpose of these lights, to keep these animals from harassing those who worked here as they went from building to building, but that assumed the beasts had been present while this place was staffed. Something in her gut told her they were a more recent addition.

Pithy began to walk down the illuminated path, sticking close to the sides of the building and keeping an eye for obstacles she might use as cover in case something began shooting at her. The light made her feel horribly exposed, but she instinctively understood that the bats would not come for her in the light unless she provoked them. At least the thunderous sounds coming from up ahead led her to believe the enemy was not yet laying in ambush for her.

Along the way, Pithy saw signs of break-ins to some of the Justice hubs adjacent buildings. One of them had a pair of turrets flanking a door, both with their barrels drooping to the ground, sparks jumping from where their red eyes should have been. The door itself had had its lock smashed, and judging by the sonorous cracks she kept hearing, she had a good idea of what could have wrought this damage.

Without bothering to investigate the building, Pithy carried on towards the sound. Soon enough, she caught sight of what she had been looking for. The announcer’s flying familiar was there, seeming to peer around a building’s corner to where the peals of thunder were coming from. Now, however, they were accompanied by the sound of fluttering wings, screeches, and challenging, vociferous screams.

“You’ll never catch me alive, you honky mahfahs!”

BLAM BLAM BLAM.

Pithy sidled out of the light to the wall below the familiar, glad that the bats’ attention was elsewhere. She did not know whether to blame that on the commotion ahead, or on the fact that they seemed to actively avoid the familiar flying above her. At this point, they must have known better than to carelessly approach the metal constructs.

She peered around the corner to see a baffling sight.

Standing atop a four-wheeled, open metal carriage, a small, dark-furred creature aimed a pair of decorated shooters similar in shape to the one she had found at a dispersing cloud of outraged black wings. BLAM. Another bat fell to the ground to join a dozen other corpses.

“I ain’t nobody’s food!”

The delectable morsel that was the shooter-toting honeybadger must have been tempting enough for the bats to attempt nabbing her from the illuminated path, but the feisty little creature would not be taken so easily.

Pithy grunted ill-humoredly from her hiding place. She had seen the creature among the contestants, but had honestly hoped dealing with the ridiculous thing would fall to another.

As the bats began to flee from this absurdly dangerous prey, the little honeybadger comically waved her shooters at the retreating swarm with her tiny arms and indignant air.

“Yeah you better run! Flying rats!”

The flying familiar took that moment to peer out of the corner, and quickly ducked back under cover as a shot chipped the wall right in front of it. The sudden crack close to her head made Pithy start, and she drew back into cover, but the sudden motion was not lost on the feisty animal.

The honeybadger laughed. “Don’t think you can hide, girl. I see yo’ skinny ass back there.”

Pressed to her cover, Pithy scowled. This day (night) had already fallen well outside of the norm, but she could be excused for not expecting it to begin by being pinned behind a wall by an angry weasel with a hat and a pair of six-shooters.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Exploration post go!

I'm sorry. Contemporary technology is fascinating. Will get to Pithy meeting Jo soonish in a hopefully much shorter post.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Once every competitor had grasped their phylactery, a sputtering noise filled the room. One hand still on her blade, Pithy forced herself to remain still as first sudden, small spurts of white smoke fluttered out from under the platform she stood on. The device quickly gathered strength, and with a hissing sound of escaping air, a curtain of fog fell over her. She barely had time see the same happening to the other contestants before her vision was completely obscured by white.

The single chime of a bell (The whole world is white) cutting through the sputtering fog machines sent a shiver down her spine.

At that moment, Pithy caught sight of a silhouette falling at her feet, but she could do little more than to lift a hand to shield her sight from the sudden explosion of light.

And then, just as quickly, her surroundings faded to black.

Tentatively, Pithy brought her arm down. Rather than the thirty-two podiums and the motley collection of humans and demons, darkness greeted her. High above, the Inquisitional College’s ceiling had been replaced by a sky of roiling clouds. Occasionally, moonlight would stream down from an opening in the clouds, only to be covered again moments later.

Since nothing seemed ready to simply pounce at her, Pithy remained still, blinking owlishly as she waited for her eye to become accustomed to the dark. She concluded that the figure she had seen drop at her feet, what had been responsible for the change of scenery, had been the lantern the young Michael had used to lead her there.

From morning to night in the space of an hour, she reflected. Jumping between realms was horribly disorienting.

As she adjusted to the darkness, she became able to make out the details of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the yellow-colored ‘H’ painted on the platform she stood on, contrasting heavily against the drab grey of the rooftop she stood on. And it was indeed a rooftop she had been placed on, overlooking a good portion of what Pithy thought to be the city she had seen on the horizon while at the Inquisitional College’s courtyard.

This was a stroke of luck, she realized. Had she found herself anywhere else, her first instinct would have been to reach a place from which she could survey the city. However, she had been saved the effort of finding a vantage spot.

However, there was something that made her hesitate to take immediate advantage of this good fortune. At the four corners of the platform, dark, stolid silhouettes stood, gazing at the night sky with long, barrel-like heads moving back and forth steadily along an arc. She could hear a whirring sound as they moved. As she stared, one of them uttered a beeping sound, and its barrel fixed at a point in the sky. There was a loud rapport, a shriek, and something dark and winged fell from the sky to the ground below. With the threat eliminated, the sentinel resumed its scanning of the horizon.

In her mind, Pithy likened them to the golems and constructs certain wizards would use to protect their workshops, and that sometimes roamed aimlessly around ancient ruins. She suspected that they would see no differences between her and that winged thing were she to cross the sights of their shooters.

While she hesitated, the sound of wings drew closer. Pithy drew her rapier from its sheath as she caught sight of another construct, winged this time, approaching her with something that resembled a purple eye fixed on her. The winged construct stopped some distance away, out of the sentinels’ line of sight, and Pithy finally saw the wooden box affixed to its bottom.

A light shone from it, creating the image of a young man dressed in a similar style as the other members of the College in the air before her. Pithy forced herself to keep a hand away from her temple to nurse an incoming headache as he began to speak to her. It seemed people like this existed in every world.

And he is to be the announcer we were told of, isn’t he? Joy. She imagined similar familiars would be following the other competitors to track their progress as well.

She wordlessly shook her head as the man said his piece and left her to her own devices. Turning to the horizon, she took the chance to study the layout of the city, obscured as it was by the cover of night. Straight below, she could see the numerous buildings that formed this facility. A few them had ‘H’s painted atop them, indicating platforms like the one she stood on. Lights shone from what from a distance looked like tall poles, sending circles of light downwards to light up the path between buildings.

Aggravating as he was, the announcer had given her this place’s name.

Justice Hub, was it? It brought to mind images of prisons and guard barracks. Perhaps this place had once been the seat of this city’s law enforcement force? It seemed much too large, but then so did the city, and she knew little of what threats an alien city would have had to contend with. The smaller buildings surrounding the citadel she stood upon looked largely unfamiliar to her, and without any knowledge as to their purpose, the reasons for their placements escaped her.

Pithy clicked her tongue. In other circumstances, she might have been interested—excited, even—by the prospect of an alien city filled to the brim with magical and technological marvels she had never so much as heard of, but the grim purpose of her visit did much to curb her enthusiasm.

To make matters worse, the one item which she truly wished to study, whose workings might very well give her insights on how to treat her condition, was likely a soul box holding her very essence, something she did not feel at all comfortable tampering with.

Her ignorance could well become a fatal liability.

Once she was satisfied, she stepped down from the platform. She gave the sentinels—turrets, the man had called them, like towers on a castle’s walls—one last wary look, half-expecting them to turn to shoot at her now that she had left them, but they simply continued scanning the skies with their red eyes.

At the other end of the rooftop, two doors faced her, both side by side. Though she could only truly describe the first one as a door, with a caricature of stairs and a sign reading ‘EXIT’ in bright red letters above it.

The second she thought of as a double door only by association, as it had no knobs nor hinges on which to turn when she pushed against it. Noticing a small button at its side, she gave it an experimental push. It lit from within with white light, but nothing else of note seemed to happen. Frowning, Pithy removed her cowl and pressed an ear close to the doors. Sounds of groaning metal greeted her, but they told her precious little. Just as she pulled away to try the labeled door, there was a ding, and the double-doors sheathed themselves into the walls, revealing a small, empty square room illuminated by pale light.

Pithy merely stared at the room, puzzled as to why the doors would lead to such an obvious dead end. After a moment, the doors closed themselves on their own. Surprised, Pithy pressed the button again, and the doors opened again, without delay this time.

“Ah.” An elevator. The delay could be explained by the platform traveling to get there. She had seen hand and pully operated ones in construction and mining jobs, and once or twice she had come across enchanted, floating platforms, but this metal cage was a first for her. The door began to close again, and this time she allowed it. Strange as the contraption was, she would rather not sit inside any steel cages she found in an alien city.

She turned to the safer choice and opened the door with the signs. Pithy started as the same pale light suddenly illuminated a flight of stairs going down, but when nothing else seemed to happen, she began her descent. The flying familiar, which had until that moment been hovering some distance away, simply remained outside once she ventured into the building.

Pithy glanced thoughtfully at the glass-like objects emanating light as she walked. Rooms illuminating whenever she entered them would make her position obvious, particularly if those rooms had windows. She considered destroying the lights, but quickly decided against it. She would need a way to see one way or another, and she preferred not to leave an obvious trail of broken glass for others to follow.

By the time she came to the first door, she knew she had walked down several levels of the building. It struck her as strange, but she could hardly ask the architect about it. She paused at the door, considering her options, then opened it. It would not hurt to explore this facility. Truth be told, until she found leads regarding her enemy’s location, the best she could do was to avoid exposed places from which she might be ambushed.

We were told to wait before initiating combat, but… What they needed was to gather souls, not provide a show. If she could not trust herself not to jump at the chance of an ambush, she could not trust the others not to do the same. It was as simple as that.

The door led to a straight corridor, which lit up with that same, pale light when Pithy stepped forward. Several doors framed the hallway on each side, most with numbers, a few with names to go with them. A short distance away, she saw the metallic sliding doors of what she was now certain was an elevator.

With mild curiosity, Pithy began to try the doors on this floor. With discouraging results. Locked. Locked. Locked. Locked.

The fifth door opened, but the moment light streamed into the room from the hallway, an outraged screech came from within, followed by the sounds of several flapping wings. Pithy could barely see the outline of sharp talons against the backdrop of an open window before she slammed the door shut. She heard another set of shrieks as the black creatures crashed against the door, but after a few moments of frantic fluttering and scratching noises, silence returned.

Mercifully, her next few attempts did not reward her search with a flock of bat monstrosities, but neither would they open. Pithy fought against the urge to tear the doors down using her magic. She had no idea if doing so would trigger wards or other security mechanisms, and neither was she particularly eager to find out.

Fortunately, the next attempt succeeded. When Pithy grabbed the handle, the door simply creaked inwards before she could turn it. She paused to look at the nameplate fixed below the room number. It read ‘Lt. Desmond Kessler.’

Lock must have broken. When no piercing screeches broke the silence, Pithy walked into the room.

Unlike the stairway and hallway before, no light came on when she walked into this room, leaving only the light streaming in from the hallway outside to illuminate it. There was a desk inside, with a few devices she did not recognize facing towards a chair. Portfolios, too many to go through, were piled along the walls in bookshelves.

Seeing the glass window at the other end of the room, Pithy closed the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness.

Half-navigating the place through memory, half-feeling her way around the desk, she approached the window and peered down to the other buildings. There were no lights at their windows, and she could see nothing moving on the ground. She caught sight of the announcer’s familiar hovering outside, its purple eye seeming to stare right at her even in the room’s darkness, and she found herself wishing she had smashed the construct when she had first seen it. She could only hope the construct would give her leads as to her opponent’s location.

Confirming that, for the moment at least, things seemed relatively calm outside, Pithy turned her attention to the room itself. Perhaps she could glean some information regarding the turrets, or the purpose of this place.

The runes inside her rapier’s guard, still at hand since the moment she had caught sight of the familiar in the roof, glowed. Pithy felt the familiar resistance—patterns in the magic locking and becoming rigid—as she tried to shape a spell outside of her aspect. For something this simple, it mattered little. A mote of light appeared at the weapon’s tip, then hovered above the desk, bathing the room in a faint light.

Pithy approached the desk, giving the plastic devices a curious look. From this side, she could see that one of them, a flat, upright rectangle, had a film of what seemed like glass at its front. It had a button with a blue pulsing light on it, but pressing it once merely turned off the light, and pressing it again made the pulsing start over. There were several notes stuck to its corners with adhesive paper, written on in small, sharp penmanship.

She pulled on one, bringing it closer to the magelight to read and ignoring the cold emanating from it.

‘Reminder: Mag B-day on Thursday. Buy gift.’

Pithy let out a small snort. The fact that she was still capable of understanding the language despite being in a different realm was nothing short of miraculous, and yet here she was, reading someone’s shopping list. She pulled out a new one.

‘Door broke. Have Terry bring in a locksmith.’

And another.

‘Lost new hire at entrance to Hi-Clear area. Suggest change to automatic security protocol.’

Pithy frowned at that. Automatic security likely referred to turrets like those at the rooftop. If they had killed people despite them working at this facility, it did not bode well to what they might do if she ran afoul of them.

Leaving the notes alone for the time being, she focused on the other devices on the desk. The rectangular apparatus in front of the first had several more buttons, all with characters imprinted on them. She gave them a few experimental taps, but the machine did little that she could see. The last device, which seemed fit to hold in one hand, had two buttons and a wheel between them. They made a clicking noise when he pressed on them, but little else. She had a feeling they were supposed to work in tandem, but as long as she failed to activate the machine, there was precious little she could learn about them.

Puzzled, Pithy followed the cables, eventually kneeling before a large, rectangular box. Numerous cables were attached to its back, and on its front, she could see a few more buttons. She zeroed in on the one with the circle cut by a small line at the top. It was the same symbol as the one on the glass box’s button.

She pressed it, then started as a whirring noise came from inside the device. She stood up and realized light was coming from the glass box. Words and images began to appear on the screen, along with a small bar with a percentage number atop it.

After a moment, the screen went blank, then was quickly replaced by a simple blue background with the words ‘Choose a user.’ Under the words, there was a single entry under a small picture of a middle-aged man. It read ‘Kessler.’ Below it, in smaller letters, she could read ‘Change User’.

Pithy’s first instinct was to touch the name where it appeared on the glass, but the screen did not seem meant to take inputs. Her next thought was to write the name on the rectangular device, but nothing happened either.

Frowning, she grabbed the smaller device. She noted with some bemusement that a white blur flashed along the screen, and, after some searching, saw a small white arrowhead hugging the edge of the glass. Turning the device, she saw a hole from which a red light was shining. She pressed a finger on it, and noticed the arrow shift slightly. With a flash of insight, Pithy pressed the device against the table and nudged it. This time, the arrow followed the motion until it rested atop of the image. A darker blue highlight surrounded it, and Pithy felt a swell of triumph.

Pithy pressed on both clickers at once, and new text entered the screen.

‘Please enter your password.’

Pithy’s spirits fell. She moved the clicker arrow to the white area and clicked on it. A small bar began to appear intermittently, as though waiting for input. Pithy frowned and glanced at the character box. Very slowly, making sure she pressed the right buttons, she spelled the name ‘Kessler’. When she looked at the glass box, she was somewhat surprised to see the dots that had appeared, one for each character.

A part of her at the back of her mind was delighted by this. It’s to keep others from seeing what you write.

She experimentally clicked the arrow next to the white field, and a circular symbol took the place of the words, spinning in place. After a moment, the circle disappeared, replaced by the ‘Please enter your password’ text. This time, below the white field, were the words ‘Incorrect Password’ in an angry red.

Interest piqued, Pithy began to go over the notes adhered to the glass box, but nothing on them immediately hinted at a password.

She knelt before the desk, pulling open one of its drawers. More portfolios. Too much to go through. Closing it with little more than a cursory inspection, she peered at the drawer on top of that. A glass bottle of something that could be nothing more than expensive alcohol, and a small packet which smelled of tobacco when she brought it to her nose.

Slowly, it was dawning on her that rather than being abandoned, this place felt like its occupants had been present up until a day before Pithy arrived, and then vanished overnight. She looked up to the top of the table and swept a gloved finger over it. It left no tracks. No dust. Is someone keeping this place clean?

She shook her head. Such thoughts were not immediately relevant. She stood, hooking her hands under the drawer under the desk, and pulled it open.

Pithy sucked a breath at the sight that greeted her, her search for the password all but forgotten. In hindsight, it was not particularly strange for this Lt. Kessler to keep a weapon in his workplace. Resting within the drawer was a shooter, similar to those he had seen some of the competitors carry. She reached down and grasped the wooden grip with one hand, feeling the polished, metallic surface of its long barrel with the other.

She remembered the accuracy with which the turret in the roof had killed the careless bat, and realized that, if this world’s shooters could be so reliable, she might benefit from carrying one. Still, she knew enough from the ugly, clunky shooters of her world that she would need ammunition for it to be useful.

She followed the length of the barrel to a cylinder at the contraption’s middle, and pushed a finger against it. The cylinder rolled in place, and she could see the empty grooves where projectiles would go. She placed her finger on the trigger, as she would have with a crossbow, and pointed the weapon at the wall. She pulled. The metal projection at the back of the weapon pulled back. The cylinder turned slightly to chamber a new projectile. And the metal projection hammered back down.

Click.

Fortunately, the drawer had held more than the shooter. From within, she pulled out a harness with a sheath for the weapon and a heavy pouch. Opening the latter revealed over a dozen of the expected projectiles, all roughly the size of her little finger.

She fiddled with it until the cylinder swiveled to the side, then loaded the projectiles into the weapon. Reinserting the cylinder came with a satisfying clicking sound.

That dealt with, Pithy turned to the harness. She thought she knew the way of it. Removing her cloak, Pithy wrapped the straps around herself, tightening and slackening them where she could to make up for the obvious size differences between herself and its previous owner. Once she was finished, she pushed the shooter into its sheathe under her right arm. She supposed the good Lieutenant must have been left-handed.

As Pithy put her robes over her shoulders, a sudden rapport sounded from outside. At first, Pithy dismissed it as the turrets on the ceiling firing at the bats, but as a second and then a third boom joined the first one, Pithy looked out the window.

A good ways below, she spotted the purple glare of the flying familiar’s eye hiding at the edge of one of the buildings below, as though trying to peek around the corner. She hummed. She had been told she would hear her enemy before she saw them.

Pithy took a slow breath, a wispy cloud of vapor escaping her lips. For the first time, she realized how cold the room had gotten.

Pithy strode out, dismissing the magelight as she went. The door opened as easily as it had the first time.