Interlude: Helping Hands

I push aside the stack of documents, each one bearing the dark red insignia of "Helping Hands," and rub my temples. The weight of the day presses down hard. Frustrated, I conjure a copy of myself—just capable enough to handle the tedious paperwork—and assign it to work through the pile. As I release the spell, the wards around my office flare, alerting me to someone attempting to teleport inside.

It’s Ethan.

With a flick of my wrist, I disable the wards and let him through. He materializes in front of me, collapsing into the chair opposite mine. His face is pale, eyes shadowed by more than mere exhaustion. His entire demeanor radiates defeat. I scan him for signs of deceit—force of habit—but see none. Not that it matters; at Tier 4, we’re all master actors.

“I thought you were going on a mission with Alexander?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I am,” he replies, running a hand over his face. “Left a copy out there.”

“Risky move, dividing your power in hostile territory.”

He shrugs. “Eh, Alexander can handle himself. If things get hairy, I’ll yank the power back before it gets bad.”

“Don’t start taking reckless chances just because you’re chasing the idea of freedom.”

“It ain’t about freedom. Not entirely.”

I know what’s really eating at him. It’s the disillusionment of Tier 4. We thought breaking free from our creator’s direct control meant true freedom. Instead, it’s just a longer leash.

My eyes flick to the holographic slate on my desk, displaying a memory from long ago—Lyria and I, standing proud on the day of our Tier 3 advancement. The sight tightens my chest. Even after half a century, the loss of her still haunts me.

“Don’t chase after a freedom that doesn’t exist,” I say, though the words are as much for myself as for him.

Ethan’s gaze drifts toward the memory slate for a moment, a flicker of understanding passing between us. He lowers his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “Four more newbies died today. Type F got the jump on ’em.”

I close my eyes briefly, feeling the familiar sting. “I’m sorry.”

He looks up, eyes hollow. “How do you deal with it? Knowin’ you could save ‘em, but doin’ nothin’? I had the power to act, but I didn’t. Not without pissin’ off the Ascended—”

“You don’t ‘deal’ with it, Ethan,” I cut in. “The System doesn’t care about fairness—it demands champions, especially from the humans. I have the luxury of nurturing other species—guiding them at their pace. But humanity? They don’t get that time.”

He exhales sharply and rises, looking like he might leave. But something in his posture makes me pause.

“Is there something else you want to tell me?” I ask, keeping my voice even.

He shakes his head, a muscle twitching at the base of his neck. It’s subtle, but we are master actors, not perfect actors and after a century and a half, I’ve learned to spot those tells. He’s holding something back.

“Ethan,” I say, leaning forward and fixing him with my best ‘disappointed mentor’ stare. “Spit it out.”

His eyes dart around the room before he speaks. “Help me secure the area.”

I nod, reinforcing the wards as Ethan adds his own layers of protection. The room hums with energy, sealing us from any prying eyes or ears. These days, it’s a necessary precaution.

“Now,” I say quietly, “tell me what’s really going on.”

Ethan lowers his head to the table, his words muffled. “I’m sick of lyin’, Cassidy. I hate that I can’t tell anyone the truth. Alexander’s startin’ to notice, but he trusts me too much to push. And I hate pretendin’ we’re enemies, like at the Silent Prism. All that just to hide the fact that ‘Helping Hands’ and the ‘Human Adventurers’ are workin’ together.”

I know what he means by ‘the truth.’ Even with the room locked down, I’m too scared to speak the words aloud. The memory still plays on a loop in my mind—the moment the System’s alien consciousness reached out, brushing against my own. The word it imparted echoes in my thoughts: Ascension.

The idea of the System itself becoming an Ascended entity is both exhilarating and terrifying. Exhilarating because it could guide our charges properly at last. Terrifying because once the Ascended and the Tier 5 entities catch wind of it, they’ll drop everything to stop it. They’ll come for us, and they’ll slaughter every Netizan without hesitation. And for the years it takes for the System to complete its Ascension, it will be too weak to defend us.

And worst of all? We can’t trust anyone. The System must suspect traitors; otherwise, it would’ve made an announcement to everyone.

All of these thoughts race through my mind in the split second before I respond.

Ethan leans back, running a hand through his hair. “I think Eris is onto us. She’s too sharp not to notice. If she or Aelion figures it out, we’re toast.”

I take a deep breath. “Eris suspects we’re plotting something, yes. But she’ll think it’s a power grab, nothing more.”

“Still,” he mutters, glancing nervously at the door, “if she pushes too hard…”

I place a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll handle it before it gets that far. If it means staging a fake coup keeps Eris off our backs, so be it. Let them think we’re maneuvering against each other—it gives us room to breathe.”

He looks conflicted, torn between duty and the weight of his conscience. “And the humans? Alexander? How do I keep leadin’ them without blowin’ everything?”

“We don’t have the luxury of full disclosure—not yet. If we reveal everything, we risk tipping off our enemies. All we can do is steer them, push them toward the strength they’ll need. They need to be prepared, Ethan”

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Ethan clenches his fists. “And how many more are gonna die before that happens? How many do I gotta let fall because we can’t act?”

His words hit me hard, but there’s no comfort I can offer. “Fairness isn’t part of the equation anymore,” I admit softly. “We’re dealing with what’s necessary. The bigger picture, Ethan—focus on that.”

He slumps back, defeated. “I don’t know if I can keep doin’ this, Cassidy.”

I grip his shoulder, trying to muster strength for both of us. “You can. You have to. If not you, then who? You have Alexander’s trust, and humanity needs him. They need you.”

He meets my gaze, doubt still flickering in his eyes. “I hope you’re right.”

I force a smile, though the same doubt weighs heavy in my chest. “We’ll figure it out. Together. But for now, we keep playing the game.”

He stands, gathering himself, the weight of his exhaustion like a physical presence. “I should get back before things fall apart.”

I nod. “Don’t take unnecessary risks. If things go bad, pull back.”

He gives me a wry smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try not to die.”

As he leaves, the wards shimmer, returning the room to its normal state. The silence that follows feels oppressive; the word Ascension still echoing in my mind.

We’re all playing a dangerous game, with rules we barely understand and pieces we can’t yet see. But for now, the only option is to keep playing.

Ethan’s departure leaves the air in my office heavy, the hum of wards fading into a tense stillness. I sit there, staring blankly at the pile of documents in front of me. The clone I summoned earlier continues working on autopilot, flipping through each page mechanically, signing and stamping in all the right places. A part of me envies its mindless focus.

I rise from my chair, pacing the length of the room to shake off the oppressive atmosphere. My thoughts swirl around Ethan's words and the secret that weighs on both of us. The System is changing, preparing for something monumental. Ascension. If only we knew how to navigate the delicate balance of guiding humanity while keeping the truth hidden.

A flicker of movement catches my eye. It’s a reflection—Lyria’s memory slate is still floating, suspended in the air like a window into the past. Her image, radiant and full of hope, looks back at me. I reach out and brush my fingers against it, the light bending and distorting as the memory shifts.

Lyria. If she were still here, would she approve of the path I’m walking? Of the choices I’ve made? The lies, the half-truths? The way I’ve manipulated others, both in Helping Hands and beyond?

I shake my head, dispelling the thought. No time for self-pity. I walk over to the small cabinet in the corner of my office and pour myself a glass of clear green liquid—traditional Lumian drink—Lyria’s favorite. The warmth of the liquid does little to dull the cold knot of anxiety in my gut, but I savor the momentary distraction.

Just as I begin to sit down, the faintest tremor vibrates through the wards—another magical disturbance, someone else trying to breach the protections I’ve put in place. I frown, setting down my drink.

I cast a subtle diagnostic spell, my senses sweeping through the room. The wards hum in response, revealing the identity of the new arrival: Aelion.

Not him, too.

With a sigh, I flick my wrist to deactivate the wards again, allowing him access. He materializes in front of me just as Ethan had, his arrival marked by the signature ripple of displaced air and energy. Aelion’s appearance is as crisp and composed as ever, his dark hair immaculately groomed, his robes pristine and shimmering with the faint glow of residual magic. But his eyes… His eyes are sharp, calculating. Always watching, always waiting for the smallest sign of weakness.

“Cassidy,” he greets me, voice smooth but tinged with an undercurrent of suspicion.

“Aelion.” I force a neutral smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He takes in the scene—the scattered papers, the empty glass, the holographic slate with Lyria’s memory still lingering—and arches a perfectly shaped brow.

“Busy day?”

I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “The usual. Paperwork, managing Helping Hands, keeping the species alive for another day.”

His eyes flick to the stack of documents, then back to me. “And Ethan? You two seemed to be having quite the conversation.”

I inwardly curse Aelion’s perceptiveness. Of course, he would notice. He always notices.

“Just an disagreement,” I say casually. “You saw his and mine spat earlier today. Wanted me to keep clear and let him do his job, even if it leads to him killing most of his newbies.”

I am honestly a bit proud; a lesser player would have shown anger or sadness. But replying in an angry or distraught voice leaves more openings for your opponent to find out your real feelings. Being calm and casual reveals very little while also telling them that you know the game that they are playing.

Aelion hums thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving mine. He steps closer, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “Cassidy, you’ve always been a master of subtlety and secrets, but you’re not quite as good at hiding when you’re troubled.”

I tense, but keep my expression neutral. “Troubled? You know as well as I do that there’s plenty to be troubled about these days.”

“True,” Aelion agrees, though his tone suggests he’s not buying the deflection. He steps even closer, eyes narrowing slightly. “But this is different, isn’t it?”

I don’t respond right away, choosing my next words carefully. “Get to the point, Aelion. What are you really after?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he circles the room slowly, like a predator assessing its prey. “I’ve been hearing whispers,” he finally says, his voice low. “Rumors that something… big is happening. Something beyond the usual power struggles. And I can’t help but notice that you, Ethan, and a few others have been rather tight-lipped lately.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Aelion always did have a flair for the dramatic. “Rumors fly fast in our circles, Aelion. You know that. People see shadows where there are none.”

“Do they?” His smile is cold, predatory. “Or is there more going on than you’re letting on?”

I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to give an inch. “You know the game, Aelion. Everyone’s hunting for an advantage. If you’re looking for some grand conspiracy, I’d advise you to look somewhere else.”

He tilts his head, considering my words, but I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He’s not convinced. Not entirely.

“You’ve always been good at keeping secrets, Cassidy,” he says softly. “But even the best of us can slip.”

Before I can respond, Aelion turns on his heel, making his way toward the door. Just as he reaches the threshold, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder.

“Keep your cards close, Cassidy. But remember—there are always eyes watching.”

With that, he disappears, leaving me standing alone in the silence once more.

I need to act to protect Ethan, to protect the fragile balance we’ve built. If Aelion, or worse, catches wind of the truth... everything we’ve worked for could unravel.

I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair. Aelion’s visit rattled me more than I’d like to admit. He’s too perceptive, too clever. And if he’s sniffing around, it won’t be long before others follow. And now I will need to watch out for Eris’s information network digging around.

But for now, there’s nothing to do but wait. Wait and watch, and hope that our secrets remain buried just a little longer.

I return to my desk, the weight of the day pressing down harder than ever. The System’s impending Ascension, the tension brewing within the City politics, the looming threat of discovery... It’s all too much.

But I can’t afford to falter. Not now. Not when the game is only just beginning.