Somewhere terribly far away, off the northwest coast of Olera, a certain [Thief] turned [Exile] was sick. He’d done all the right things…more or less. Found water, food, and shelter and crafted a few rudimentary tools. It was the little things he missed. A crucial one was boiling the water; better yet if he had put together a rudimentary filtration system to use before boiling: pebbles, sand, charcoal and so on.

Rivien behaved like someone who had never once had to fret about access to clean drinking water. The possibility didn’t even occur to him, which is how he got sick. Dysentery wasn’t pretty. In fact, in his current circumstances, it could be deadly.

Only his newly acquired Skill [Basic Survival Instinct] would save him—granted to him after his battle with the jaguar upon levelling up. He was now a level 3 [Exile].

With blurry vision, doubled over from stomach pain, Rivien stumbled through the jungle. Using trees to help keep him steady. He’d know it when he saw it. That knowledge gave him the energy to keep searching.

His Skill was telling him the ingredients were somewhere nearby. It was just a lot harder when he didn’t know which of the eight million plants he was looking for.

———

Lars didn’t immediately flee the city when they escaped Velric and the protectorate at Rubedo. Like Anika, there were things he needed to bring with him—the video drive, for one. He was smart enough not to return to his place, especially since he had the potion on him. They’d be watching it. So he went to the best spot for someone on the lam, the Jolly Bot.

He tried to act natural when he entered the pub, but his breathing was heavy. It wasn’t that he was out of shape. He simply didn’t make a habit of sprinting long distances. Anyone would need to catch their breath after that. Not to mention the added adrenaline from the pursuit and narrow escape.

“Fyke. Make it a water for me.”

The bartender casually looked up from his place behind the bar and nodded.

“Just this way, sir.”

A serving bot approached Lars and ushered him towards an unsuspecting wall. Ordering water was the signal.

Fyke knew Lars’ drink; he never ordered. And few of the patrons here drank water. So it was an alright code when you needed to slip the law for a bit. Mind you, these weren’t bad criminals; rather, shady people—small-time crime. Lars wouldn’t skulk around with murderers and the like, and they wouldn’t stick around long in a bar a protectorate investigator frequented. He could overlook petty crime, but the real scum would not be allowed to roam free.

The hidden rooms of the Jolly Bot were designed similarly to the main pub. There was a bar manned by a serving bot and two other customers in the room—they each kept to themselves. The atmosphere was a bit less jolly in this room.

As Lars collected an actual drink from the bot, Fyke came in through the hidden door and had Lars relocate to a private room even further back.

“What did you do, Lars?”

Fyke knew some of Lars’ past. He’d been around when his parents were murdered. Even helped listen for any whispers in Last Stand’s criminal network.

“Think I stumbled on something big, Fyke. The protectorate is burying information.”

Lars flipped open his notebook, adding a few new ones.

“It took you how many years to work that out?”

Fyke was a dapper fellow nearing the end of his thirties. He had a dusting of grey in his slicked-back hair and was always wearing a suit, no jacket, just the waistcoat and a purple satin bow tie that complimented his salt-and-pepper hair.

If you came to the Jolly Bot and Fyke was wearing a green bowtie instead, it meant the joint was hot; take your business elsewhere, but come in for a drink if that’s all you’re here for. No bowtie meant to get out of dodge immediately.

“I think it may be linked to my parent's murders.”

“That’s a tough one.”

The bartender wasn't a busybody. He ran a successful business because he listened when people talked to him—like any good bartender—, had a generally pleasant disposition, and kept his mouth shut most of the time.

“Yep.”

Lars took a drink of his whisky.

“What are you going to do?”

That was about as nosy a question as Fyke would ask. Given their long acquaintanceship, He was more at ease with Lars.

“I need to collect a couple things from my flat, then I’m headed out of town.”

“What? Leaving Last Stand?”

Fyke's brows shot up in surprise.

“Have to. They sent Velric after me.”

“Damn.”

“Yep.”

What else could you say? No one wanted to volunteer to get involved in protectorate trouble.

“How’re you going to get your stuff?”

“I was hoping you could help with that.”

Fyke gave Lars a skeptical look, leaning forward and interlocking his hands, resting them flat on the tabletop.

“How so?”

“Know anyone good at breaking and entering.”

“I might.”

“I can pay well, only need them to grab a couple of things. Light load. But—”

Lars trailed off.

“But it would be putting them in the protectorate's line of fire.”

Fyke finished Lars' sentence and sighed heavily, adjusting his bow tie—a nervous habit.

“I'll put out some feelers. You can stay here for the night.”

“Thanks, Fyke. ‘Preciate it.”

“As long as you don't drag me down with you.”

The bartender left Lars alone with that, returning to his customers in the pub.

———

By some miracle, Anika made it to her apartment before the protectorate. Maybe they were trying to keep this all on the hush.

She got out her compression pack—a low-grade backpack. It could still carry more than a regular backpack but not nearly as much as a travelling merchant's. Anika packed everything she thought might be helpful and could quickly grab. Which meant potions and other alchemical mixes, a few charged crystals, spare clothes, a toothbrush, cat food, cat toy, cat treats, cat brush—anyone could see where this was headed. Later, she’d insist it was Urri who overpacked.

“Meow.”

Anika turned to find Urri already waiting by the door, head cocked sideways, with a locket dangling from his paw, which he held in the air with a fair amount of sass. The action clearly said:

Hey, idiot, aren’t you forgetting something?

And she would have if not for him. She kept the memento stashed away most of the time, except when feeling nostalgic—a gift from Elsie, her little sister.

“Thank you, Urri.”

Urri gave a sharp nod. He was biomech, afterall. Far more intelligent than an average house cat, which was already pretty smart.

“Let's go. Keep quiet.”

Anika and Urri stealthily made their way out of the second-floor apartment and quickly discovered that she had not beaten the protectorate here; they had just been biding their time.

It was Urri who noticed them first. She felt her pant leg snag and looked down to see Urri had his claws in them. He was trying to stop her, but why?

It didn't take long to figure out. A deep voice travelled up from the floor below.

“In position. Team two?”

“Confirmed.”

The second voice spoke statically through a speaker.

Anika felt another tug on her pants. Urri was pulling her left down a hallway toward a garbage chute. She opened the chute door and peered inside.

“Oh, that is so gross.”

Urri meowed his agreement. The smell was…ripe. But she trusted him. Maybe too much since he was technically a cat.

———

The things I do for this human.

Urri thought to himself as he hopped onto the edge of the chute and disabled his olfactory neurons.

“Target should be leaving by now. Ehlvest, Vache, move in and check it out.”

His enhanced hearing made out the door to the complex swinging closed on the floor below and the slight echo of footsteps. It wouldn't take the protectorate long to look here once they realized the apartment was empty.

“Mrow.”

He urged Anika on. She hesitated momentarily, glancing back down the hall before climbing in and launching down the chute. Urri went in after her, intending to use Anika as a cushion for his fall. And oh, it was a fall, though short-lived since they only lived on the second floor.

They shot out the tube. Anika landed flat on her back in an overflowing, wet trash heap—Urri landed on his feet, obviously.

The human’s clothes were covered in greenish sludgy grime that had splashed up from the bin’s depths. The same grime that now coated Urri’s fur. What an awful day.

Anika flung herself out of the trash bin, taking a moment to clear a hairball or something. It didn't sound pretty. But then they were on the move through the dark streets.

Rain fell from the sky as they splashed through puddles gathering in the potholes on the mix of pavement and brick alleys—far less maintained than the main streets.

They didn't send the mindless robots down this way. It wasn't the most charming place in the city. But Anika was known among landlords for her ability to stink up a whole complex with her alchemical experiments. So, her living options were limited.

I will need a human bath after this. How Tragic. It would be acceptable if the human adds the potion that makes the bubbles. I do rather enjoy bopping them.

The sound of heavy footfalls travelled down the alley, coming from the main street.

Urri quickly circled the ignorant human's legs, tripping her flat on her face. But also effectively stopping her from running into the open and blowing their cover. Plus, the protectorate was looking for someone on the run. Not a body lying prone in a puddle. Win-win in Urri’s book.

“What the heck, Urri.”

A tiny kiss on the cheek was the only apology he’d bestow upon her. And a few head butts got her up and moving again.

A useless sack of potatoes, this one is. She obviously would never make it without me, like a mewling kitten.

Urri took the lead because he was tired of getting splashed in the face every time Anika's foot met the wet ground.

Two protectors came hurtling out from a side street, catching them both off guard. One's lips spread into a cruel smile when he thought he had caught Anika.

“Take the bitch out.”

The second protector instructed. Unfortunately for him, he didn't look down.

Urri used his momentum to run up the wall and, launching off it like a springboard, shot himself at the protector's head.

Startled by the sudden projectile flying at him, the protector instinctively shielded his face. And Urri, with considerable force, barrelled into the man, upsetting his balance just enough that he couldn't catch his footing in the rain, and down he went.

The smack of his head on the pavement was drowned out by the growing downpour.

On the second protector, Anika slowed and looked at Urri. Her face grew panicked when he didn't leap into action.

If a cat could splutter, he would have. Did Anika think he could just whip out moves like that repeatedly? He was pretty incredible, but he wasn't supermech!

He couldn't do all the heavy lifting. The thought must have translated across his features well enough because she finally jumped into action.

As Anika pulled a bottle from her backpack, three more protectors joined the remaining one.

She flung a glass bottle full of a thick, oily brown substance, and it shattered across the street in front of the small group of protectors that were almost on them. So close that they didn't have time to stop before striding straight onto the grease that was now covering the street. Anika quickly threw a second grease bottle to saturate the area fully.

The four buffoons slipped and tripped over each other, falling into a comical heap on the slick liquid. It was surprising how easy it was to take out baddies by simply knocking them down. Humans were so…squishy.

Urri and Anika didn't stick around to watch the show. Extending one razor-sharp metal kitty claw, he struck it against the hard stone beneath him as he raced down the street. The friction created a spark; as the adage goes, it only takes one.

Urri felt the heat licking at his tail furs. Screams rang out in the night, and he could hear a mad scramble from the guards caught in the grease fire. He ran on.

Anika may have wanted to go for the stealth route, but Urri…he was all chaos mode.

They took a sharp turn and dashed into the main street, another team of protectors right on their tails.

“Urri, we need the zoomies!”

She took a pinch of Zoomies powder and tossed it in her mouth, then passed the sachet to Urri, forgetting he had paws, not hands. It dropped to the ground and spilled out of the pouch, and he was forced to touch the very tippy tip of his tongue to the tiniest bit of the powder off the ground. He felt little better than a stray at this point.

But it worked. They sped ahead of the protectors, widening the distance between them with every step. The protectorate issued fancy charged gear, lie detection potions, and healing powders, but they did not give protectors speed potions. It wasn't in the budget. And they were usually marketed as a fun entertainment item, good for children's gifts, not as a utility item.

The gateway in and out of the city was just ahead of them. The protectors stationed at the gate were otherwise occupied, as luck would have it. Raised voices, screaming, and fire had drawn them away, leaving only the protectors on the wall to guard the entry.

Urri and Anika moved so fast that the wall protectors hardly even saw them escape. And when they did notice the duo…well, they were long gone, the night and poor weather reduced visibility as it was.

———

One usually reverts to old habits when out of their comfort zone. Or in need of familiarity in turbulent times. Which was how Anika ended up cleaning and organizing Theo’s house.

Mess everywhere!

“How could she ever find a reagent in this chaos, Urri?”

There was a truly distressing amount of disorganization. It made her skin itchy. There were even dirty dishes! That decided it.

Anika wasn’t randomly rearranging everything to make Theo's life a nightmare when she returned. They had a system that they had devised together. However, Theo never returned things to their proper place when she was done with them. Instead, she would push them aside and claim she would deal with them later. It resulted in disasters like the current state of her home.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Anika rolled up her sleeves and dug in her pack until she found a bottle of her self-formulated tincture, Squeak'n' Clean. Its cleaning power was unsurpassed in the market of household cleaners. Granted, the market wasn't super competitive nowadays. Still, the best cleaning product, though it had one flaw.

The goal of creating Squeak’n’ Clean was to create a calming cleaning ambiance. Was there anything more frustrating than needing to scrub a mess on the floor, but the wood was porous, and the cleaner was only meant for non-porous surfaces? Or what about when a solvent was needed but only a water-based cleaner was on hand? And don't get her started on the smells!

But no longer would these problems plague the world of cleaning—if Anika got her way. Through ingredients she harvested in the Wilds while out with Theo, she worked laboriously to compound the charge. The tincture could clean anything and do it flawlessly with minimal effort. Simply apply and wipe. No soaking, no scrubbing. It also had a soothing lavender aroma.

The drawback, well, it squeaked when a perfect clean was achieved. That would be all well and fine, but the formula worked so well that it got annoying quickly, constantly squeaking along. It was a kink Anika couldn't quite figure out, so she made it part of the name. Squeak’n’ Clean was, to this date, in her humble opinion, her most remarkable achievement.

Urri hated the stuff. He always ran around, looking for mice. When he realized it was her cleaning causing the sound, he'd take his frustration out on the offending potion. It was hilarious until he wasted a whole bottle of the formula.

———

Anika’s escape was wild from the retellings he heard. Lars was surprised she raised so much havoc. It turned out to be helpful for him, though.

The search died down quickly a few days later. The protectorate assumed Lars and Anika had both escaped. They stayed alert but weren't combing the streets for the fugitives.

Fyke found him a guy…a kid, really, that could loiter around the flat without raising too much suspicion.

“When the heat died down, I just climbed up the windows and let myself in. Ya know, just ‘cus you're on the third floor doesn’t mean someone can’t get in.”

The kid explained to Lars knowingly.

“And did you get the stuff?”

The young thief looked incredulously at Fyke.

“Course I did. Best in the business for a job like this, I am.”

The boy said proudly, using both thumbs to point to himself. He pulled the video drive and a few other items out of a little sack he’d carried in and placed them on the table.

Fyke ruffled the boy’s hair as he tried to duck the hand.

“Hock will see to your payment. Get out of here.”

“Thank you, good sirs, and remember Riddley Swiftstep for any future needs.”

Lars and Fyke watched as the kid left to find Hock, who helped out with financial things here and there. Lars didn’t know the ins and outs of it because, up until very recently, he was a protector and didn’t want to know the details.

The thing to remember about Lars was that he wasn’t a bad guy, but he had no qualms about doing what needed doing. Pursuing the position of protector investigator was simply a means to solve his parent's murder, not because of a deep desire to bring justice to Last Stand—he wasn't sure that would even be possible. Yes, it was selfish, but there it was. Lars was…neutral, not good, but also not bad. He just was.

Fyke gave Lars a long look.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Got a place. Better if I don't tell you.”

“I suppose you’re right. It was good knowing you, Lars.”

Fyke clasped Lars' shoulder, giving a slight squeeze.

“This ain't bye, Fyke. I'll see you around.”

Standing, Lars stuffed the few items Riddley collected into his bag and left the Jolly Bot.

It was a relatively easy trip out of the city. He strode along in a fedora with a slightly wider brim than was typical and an overcoat, looking casual and unsuspecting. The attire fit in with the drizzly weather Last Stand had been experiencing lately.

The biggest challenge was passing the protectors at the gate. But as Anika had learned, it was easy to divert their attention. Throw a stone, and the overzealous idiots will run off to investigate the noise. Well, they weren't quite that stupid, but close.

Outside of Last Stand, the trees grew dense the further from the city he went. He exited around midday, and though it was not sunny, it was a bright kind of overcast—a light grey cloud cover. The smell of wet earth hung heavy in the air.

Something captured Lars' eye as he made his way into the Wilds, not far outside the gates—but far enough he went unnoticed by protectors patrolling the walls. He found a crumbled statue, moss growing over it.

His mind flashed back to the entry in the history book he'd read. Was this…?

Lars knelt in front of the broken statue and scrapped off moss with a small knife until the plaque at the base was visible.

Commissioned in commemoration of Harlyk Von Cercher, the First Protector.

It was an honorary title. Harlyk was not the first or even second to have the job title protector. But he was perfect for the up-and-coming protectorate to rally behind as an inspirational figure to others.

He did not want to spend too long standing about, but Lars did spare a few moments to look for the head of the statue. After clearing moss and debris off the larger pieces, he realized the face of his great-great-grandfather was long since worn away, and he was wasting time.

Lars had left during the safest part of the day. He’d rather face the protectorate than anything lurking in the Wilds, which was saying something. Even he wasn't immune to the stories and fear of the biomech monsters, doubly so after BioCorp.

He left the statue behind him and continued down the overgrown dirt road, once pavement, but now only scattered chunks remained. The path wasn't well worn, and any grass Theo—the only regular foot traffic in and out of Last Stand—used to trudge over on her way to Rubedo had sprung back up since her disappearance.

The short journey to Theo’s surprised Lars. It was closer to Last Stand than he expected. But amply forest stood between her home and the city, and the Wilds were not patrolled by anything except monsters. Even if the protectorate sent a team here, they would not get far. It would result in a siege of sorts. Theo’s voltage barrier was not on Last Stand’s ‘grid,’ and was not affected by the weakened charge within the city walls. It made for an adequate safe house.

The house itself was a wooden box. A large digi-glass window covered much of one wall, and skylights were set into the roof. The land outside the home was overgrown. There were multiple garden beds, some full of plants growing out of control. Tangled with weeds. Others lay empty, waiting for the right season. And Lars spotted one blooming with something he couldn’t confirm was even a plant.

Lars stopped at the edge of the property, surrounded by a voltage barrier so strong the charge coming off of it gave him goosebumps.

“Anika.”

Either she was already here, or someone else was. Lars could see the slight silhouette of a figure walking about inside.

“Anika!”

He wasn’t keen to yell too loud on this side of the barrier. But it was enough. A face peeked out from the front door, disappeared, then a hand holding a small device popped out, and the barrier opened.

As soon as Lars walked through, the barrier closed behind him, and Anika opened the door the rest of the way to welcome Lars inside.

Inside, the single room home resembled Rubedo's backroom. Stocked to the brim with strange looking liquids, powders, and parts. And meticulously organized. In fact, the place was nearly spotless.

A cleaning rag and bottle of apricot-coloured liquid sat on the central worktable. Like everything Lars had seen of alchemy, the potion had an odd quality. Within the orange liquid was a constantly swirling funnel of purple gas. Separate from, yet also part of, the liquid.

“Welcome to Theo’s laboratory.”

“She doesn’t live here?”

“Yes, but it’s mainly where she does her more exploratory or secretive alchemical work. She is very dedicated to her art. It’s sort of scary sometimes. I don’t think she has any other hobbies…or friends.”

“Right.”

What really sold Anika’s assessment of Theo was the cot with a single pillow and blanket tucked away in a nook next to another small desk. It was the closest thing to a personal item Lars saw in the room. There wasn’t even a place to store clothes.

The quintessential ‘mad scientist’ lab from stories of old. Any place on the walls not covered by shelving was covered in papers stuck to every visible surface. Notes, plant sketches, and pages torn from books. Many with strange symbols Lars did not recognize. It spoke of fixation. Obsession.

Lars caught himself before he could shiver. He’d seen some weird things as an investigator. This was up there on the list. He took out his notebook and pencil and took short notes about Theo’s home.

“You still think Theo’s a suspect?”

Anika moved around Theo’s home with familiarity. It clearly was not her first time here.

“We still don't know how their disappearance is tied to everything.”

BioCorp was the only link they had between the two. They had learned something there that would inform their investigation of the disappearance case. Lars flipped back through his notes, like he had countless times already, hunting for the connection they were missing.

“What if they learned something and the protectorate silenced them?”

Anika gasped and covered her mouth with both hands, eyes wide with worry.

“Unlikely, but not impossible. Heard about the spectacle you caused in the city.”

Anika smacked her hand to her forehead, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She shook her head disapprovingly.

“You can blame Urri for that.”

She glared at the floor for some reason, but he couldn't see why since she was behind the work table.

Suddenly, Lars heard a sound he'd never heard before. It was clipped. A short response, like a verbal shrug from someone who knew they were better and was bestowing a favour by acknowledging Anika in the first place.

“Meow.”

Lars had no clue how he deduced all that from one foreign noise, but the message was clear.

“What was—”

Something that resembled a miniature cougar, or perhaps a lynx variety, jumped onto the table and hissed at Lars. Brandishing sharp metal claws.

Lars instantly shifted into a fighting stance. Ready to take out the danger.

“Oh, knock it off the both of you.”

Anika picked up Urri, much to his displeasure, and held him back from attacking Lars. That didn't stop him from threateningly waving his little paws in the air.

“What is that thing?”

Urri hissed a Lars question in outrage. He was not a thing. The audacity.

“This is Urri, my cat. Urri, this is Lars.”

Anika introduced the two. Urri, the furry thing in question, flicked Anika with an incredibly agile tail.

“Errr. A cat, not my cat. He doesn't like words that connote ownership of him.”

“...Which he told you with his tail?”

She nodded and popped one thumb up, awkwardly holding the cat under its arms.

“You learn if you spend long enough with him.”

The biomech cat nodded in agreement.

“Pets are illegal in Last Stand. How’d you even get him?”

Lars had many questions about this strange, little, angry creature now distinctly glaring at him.

“The Archivist. I got lonely after coming…uh, living alone. A friend recommended talking to her about companions.”

She set down the cat and scratched it on the head, temporarily distracting Urri from attacking Lars.

“Do you have the potion?”

Anika abruptly shifted the conversation.

Lars pulled out the bottle with the ‘potion’ and placed it on the table.

The diced puck thing Anika had made from the potion was no longer dry chunks but something mushy and black-brown. It slowly moved and reformed like a living clay. There were minor changes each day, but it looked to Lars like it was a long way from being ready.

She carefully brought the bottle closer and examined its contents.

“It appears to be morphing well. See how the colour is beginning to lighten at this narrow part here? That’s a good sign. And it’s clearly taking on a typical plant shape. I'd estimate a week at most, and regeneration will be complete. It's moving incredibly fast. The ingredient must be small.”

Anika moved their only chance at understanding the mysterious potion to a safe place out of the way, where it could finish its transmutation undisturbed.

———

The rain had cleared, and the ground was finally dryish. It was a lovely day out. The sun warmed the skin, and occasionally, a slight breeze would push through the forest and chase away the warmth from the sun, only for a moment. Then the wind calmed, and the gentle heat returned. It came and went in a pleasant cycle.

“Lars, let’s go out today.”

“Out where?”

“I could only take so many things with me. I want to collect ingredients so I can make more attack potions.”

“You probably could have brought more if you hadn't packed so much for the cat.”

Anika waved off his comment.

“Irrelevant. The Wilds is the best place for me to get ingredients and we should have a stock of alchemical firepower, just in case.”

“It's not a bad idea.”

Lars rubbed the back of his neck as he ceded the point.

“That settles it. Urri, are you coming?”

She pulled out a cloth bag stashed in the back of a work table drawer and collected a few empty vials, a small blade for harvesting samples, and a stasis potion. Certain charged ingredients didn’t retain their maximum charge well once harvested. The stasis potion helped maintain the integrity of the charge until it was used.

Urri, Anika, and Lars left the house, grateful to be in the open air. Theo's home was not designed or decorated with guests or comfort in mind. She had long since done away with almost any space unnecessary to alchemy. Even the washroom was showing signs of her extreme focus.

As Anika opened the barrier and they began to leave, a figure raced out of the nearby bushes straight at them.

“What’s that?”

Anika fumbled with the small remote.

“Back up! Close the barrier!”

They tried to get inside the bubble and seal it, but the thing was moving faster than they could with the element of surprise on its side. It zoomed through the barrier doorway.

Anika’s jaw dropped, and Urri made a low, rumbling noise that sounded distinctly like a growl. His grey-blue tail puffed up.

“Good to see you again, Miss Twile.”

The Paige, the same one who had delivered the mysterious ‘BioCorpse’ message, greeted Anika with a small dip of its head.

“Wha…what are you doing here?”

Anika’s speech grew steadier as her brain caught up to her eyes.

“I have a message for you, of course.”

The messenger bot’s mouth stretched into the Paige’s signature fake grin.

Lars stood next to her with…a pocket knife, of all things. The bot barely spared him a glance.

The Paige stepped forward, and so did Urri.

To the shock of both humans watching, the Paige took a hesitant step back in response. Internally fighting between coded commands to deliver the letter but also flee if it came into danger. The bot didn't have a command for what to do in the event of both simultaneously, but it eventually reached a decision of sorts.

It threw a rolled-up letter at Anika and fled through the barrier they forgot to close behind them in the heat of the moment.

Anika immediately hit the button on the remote and sealed the voltage bubble. They stared silently in the direction the Paige darted long after disappearing into the Wilds, returning to Last Stand.

Urri marched off anxiously and lapped the perimeter a few times, checking for any other hidden threats.

Lars edged over to look as Anika retrieved the paper from the ground and unrolled it.

An,

You are foolish for involving yourself in such matters. I told you Theodora Silke would only bring you trouble. But there is no going back. So I shall say to you as follows.

The most curious of esoterica are hoarded in a sand viper's nest.

Follow the tiny god.

One wonders if an alchemist's darkest desires might be discovered.

South and East.

Anika could see minuscule, crystalline grains on the letter. Lars picked some of the specks up to investigate them. Then, touched it to the tip of his tongue. It was unnecessary, though. She already knew what it was.

“...sugar?”

Lars was perplexed.

“Sabdur.”

“This letter makes no sense.”

“He’s talking like an alchemist, or trying to—most of us love using allegorical writing, though he has done a somewhat shoddy job at it, but Sabdur's not an alchemist. Brilliant idea on his part. His true message is hidden within. Let’s see…”

She strode purposefully inside and sat down with pen and paper at the workbench, decoding the letter.

“Yes!”

Lars sprang from his seat, startled at Anika’s sudden shout and fist pump.

“You figured it out? That was quick.”

“Yes, come look! It wouldn't make much sense to anyone else trying to read the letter. But see here, sand viper’s nest, that one is easy, protectorate central command. He called them that sometimes. So we can find something important in the protectorate headquarters.”

She underlined the words as she spoke.

“And alchemists' darkest desires?”

She circled those and added a small question mark next to it before answering Lars.

“That must be referring to Theo and the mystery potion. But darkest desires infers the elixir of life… I'm not positive that I understand this one completely. Either we will find something related to the potion at central command or find it south and east. It’s a bit unclear, but that's usually how alchemical writing works anyway.”

“South and east? Most of southeast Last Stand is inaccessible since the war.”

“The thing is, I don't think he means the southeast side of the city.”

Yes, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Sabdur knew they were investigating the disappearance. If he sent the Paige the first time…

“He is telling us to find the information the protectorate is hiding, and then go to the place he is from with that information to learn more about how it connects to the potion.”

“And by place he is from, you mean?”

“Well, Sabdur isn't originally from Last Stand, but he never would tell me where. He always called it somewhere far away.”

“Sabdur isn't from Last Stand?”

Anika was mildly concerned Lars’ brain was melting from an overload.

“Lars, I think we stumbled into the heart of something that reaches far beyond Last Stand.”

Just how far Anika couldn't possibly fathom. Triahkel was a big place. South and east…that was headed into the Wastelands.

“This is suspicious. Why didn’t Sabdur tell us himself when I questioned him? We can't go trekking across Triahkel, Anika! Especially with no clue what we’re doing.”

“No, no. I get your point. He probably didn't want to get involved in whatever we are now waist deep in. I doubt he would have said anything at all if I wasn't his friend. It's why the letter’s so vague, so it can't fall back on him. Why don't we get whatever is hidden in central command and then, with that information, decide what to do next?”

“That’s a death sentence!”

“So you suggest we do nothing? Do you want to give up, Cercher?”

Anika struggled to find something to do with her hands to adequately convey her feelings. They were balled up into fists, shaking slightly. She was resolute in seeing this case through to the end. They hadn’t blown up their lives completely to give up now.

“No, of course not!”

Tempers were rising. There were too many unanswered questions.

“Then what do you suggest we do? We could wait for the regeneration to finish. But that won't tell us anything more than what went into the potion and what effect it may have had. Where are Theo, Atncore, and Zsig? What about the corruption is the protectorate hiding? What happened at BioCorp that led to the corruption? And how does it relate to the events happening now?”

His eyes shifted back and forth quickly, thinking, searching for links he’d missed. He glanced at his notebook as if it had betrayed him. Lars had no answers for her. They were chasing their own tails. Only getting bits and pieces of the puzzle at a time.

“I don’t know, dammit!... Fine, we’ll move on central command.”

“Alright. Let’s make a plan.”

Anika rubbed her hands briskly, like a mastermind creating a grand scheme. It was just for show, though. Inside, her stomach was doing all sorts of unhappy anxiety acrobats.

There was a moment of silence before Lars thought to ask.

“Who’s the tiny god?”

Urri rounded on Lars haughtily.

“Meeeow!”