This sensation. I knew it. Familiar, one might call it an aura around a being, but this was twisted. Appraisal-type Skills allowed a person to peek through the curtain and ascertain some of that information, but there was a distinct separation between the two kinds of beings that existed in the World.

“Jericho? What’s wrong?” Lyissa whispered, increasingly worried. “Speak, what did you see?”

“Yeah, pipe up, don’t leave me in suspense!” Tanya quavered, gripping the bars tightly.

Shaking my head, hand over mouth, waving with the other and signing for everyone to wait, the knots in my gut settled as I formulated an explanation.

“Tanya, how did your leaders form groups?”

She frowned. Squinted. Looked to the side.

“We were put into squads with someone, sometimes they had nice gear or were just good at shouting at people. Arthur had that big gun of his, Kyle had a head for tactics I guess – fat load of good it did the rest of us poor fuckers,” she related, relaxing into a false sense of security. “The Narc higher-ups said to not worry. We would get a Class later. Don’t worry about having no Skill words after Recursion. Just remember how to shoot the way we drilled for months.”

“Nothing I say leaves this room,” I murmured. “Absolutely not a breath.”

“Clk-clk-tck, are you sure you should reveal it in front of the prisoner?” the as of yet unnamed guard coughed. Good head on those shoulders.

“I’m inclined to agree with Harrad,” Cordo stated, standing tall.

“As am I. Jeri, this seems reckless,” Lyissa said while putting a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“She deserves to know, especially being in the dark this long,” I replied, my fingers clenching over the Elf’s for support as I breathed shakily. “Tanya, from Mars, I think I just confirmed sending you back home was a ruse.”

If there was a means to hear glass breaking within a person’s mind, their hopes and dreams shattering, I think I could see the cracks preceding such a phenomenon forming behind the Terran’s eyes. I hope that she had seen enough of me that she would believe, that she wouldn’t think I was being malicious and cruel out of spite.

The room awaited me with bated breath. I squeezed my eyes shut, going over the points carefully.

“During that night that I died, Jake-“

“From Seattle? Yeah, yeah, I know him, he’s from the city that one of our dreadnaughts are named after,” she cut in with a halting nod. “The city that-, that-, it was-, we dropped an aste-, astero-, big rock from the sky on it…”

Us natives of the World watched as Tanya fell into silence, remembering something no doubt from her past life. Something she wasn’t proud of. Apologetically, she folded her hands and waited for me to continue.

“He was bit by a Lycan and put into a Recruit role in my Faction. We guessed he might have to follow his new Alpha without a choice,” I went on quietly, praying to Heartfire and Reaper and Ancestors these walls were thick enough, “but somehow he was able to become a full member of his own free will. If he would’ve gained a few more levels, I might not have-“

Lyissa gently squeezed my shoulder.

“A-anyways, two more Lycans were made during the past two weeks. They’re under compulsion to follow the Alpha. I think they might be in a situation similar to yours, Tanya.” I looked over to Cordo. “What Class were they?”

“After they were considered as our Recruits? Heavy and Assault. Jake has been heading their Fireteam, an admirable Beta so far as leaders go,” the Orc nodded proudly, although stilted.

“Did you check what they were before joining us?”

“Wh-? No. They were in rather pitched combat on both occasions,” Cordo frowned, the idea obviously mad. “There wasn’t time to loiter and ask for a respite to compare notes.”

I raised a finger and pointed at Tanya.

“Affiliation: Terran Arcanocracy, Recruit Conscript. Target not in proximity of an Overseer.”

“What? I-I-I-, I don’t, what does that mean? Are you blaming me for something?” the Terran began with increasing concern. “You already know I signed on with them, is there some other shit going on? I have no idea what a Conscript or Overseer is, I swear!”

“Did-,“ Lyissa’s nails dug into my good shoulder. So tight that I could feel it through the armor. “No. No, that’s not-, of all things taboo or utterly unthinkable, this is beyond the unforgivable.”

“This is post-Recursion, anything is possible,” Cordo observed lazily. “Wait, what is not possible my dear?”

“Jericho? Jericho, please, I never meant for any of this to happen. Stop hiding the knife and butcher me already, I’m not some little lamb,” Tanya blubbered, pressing her head to the bars and trying to squeeze through them. “I am a Human, with rights! A right to know how bad this is! Tell me! What does that mean?!”

Like setting a bone, except I don’t think I could heal this.

“You don’t have a Class. You’re bound to an Overseer. Right now you might as well be an Artificial according to the System’s old eyes. Diagnose couldn’t even decide if you were Sentient or Artificial.”

I had to keep looking at her. Make sure she understood. Reaper’s shroud and stars above, I didn’t want to.

“All of your work and experience was shoring up whoever held your leash and barely trickling back down to you. Even if you died right now, even with the Resurrection mechanism working, I have no idea what would happen to you.”

The webs in the glass of sanity spread behind her eyes. Cracked. Splintered.

“Oh.”

Tanya fell back on her rear. Gradually lost all her will to remain upright, laying on her back, stared up at the miniscule shadows playing across the ceiling.

Disintegrated.

“Have you ever fancied becoming a Lycan, miss Tanya?” Cordo nervously laughed. “It isn’t all bad, the way Perez goes on and on and-“

SLAP!

Lyissa was breathing heavily, shaking with rage. I’d barely noticed she had left my side.

“I…”

The Elf pushed the Orc to the side away from the door, the latter rubbing his cheek with unmitigated astonishment.

“I’ll see that you can safely come outside tonight. See the sky again,” Lyissa cleared her throat. “Excuse me.”

Without a word she slipped out of the room, normally graceful steps exchanged for a clipped march away from us.

“I mean, if it means I don’t disappear forever,” Tanya said, choking back sobs, “maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. That’s not a bad way to look at it, right? R-rig-, righ-? Oh, oh god, all my friends, all th-th-the ot-others, no, god…”

“I imagine that you understand your new permanent duty, yes?” Standing, I turned towards the guard. “Harrad, was it?”

“Aye, sir. And yes, clk-clk. To my last breath,” he rasped. There was something odd about his eyes. The way they reflected the tiny pinprick of flame in dozens of lenses where I thought eyes should be beneath the scarf around their face. Not like any humanoid I knew. Insectoid? “Thankfully I brought a few books and plenty of candles for the young miss.”

“I have intimated that levity was perhaps the most inappropriate response to this information I to which I lack understanding,” Cordo said evenly, moving to stroke his chin thoughtfully. There was a nasty bruise forming where he was struck. “Jericho, are you able to elaborate?”

“Gray wolves.”

He blinked.

“Artificials, gray wolves are NPCs as Otherworlders would say. The World conjures them up, they are killed by Sentients, rewards from working towards Levels to obtaining items from challenging encounters,” I began, beginning to draw a circle with my finger in the air. “A perfectly logical loop. Wolves appear, perhaps grow in power by consuming other beings, die, appear again.”

“This is going to play into the System being starved, isn’t it?” he nodded along.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“In a way. Every time something dies, it’s either a Sentient like us or an Artificial with no… well…”

“No soul. No real will of its own,” Tanya added from her defeated pile in the cell. “Nothing except bits of code executing over and over to make it move and attack, stop on death.”

“Exactly,” I smiled, painstakingly, gesturing towards her. “Thank you.”

“I dated a developer once. Tried making our own game. It drowned in an ocean of hacks and shitty takes on the same idea over and over and over,” she continued, putting a hand up and seeing how her fingers created a shadow play. “It changed when my passenger ship had an accident. I thought this was just some weird World on the other side of the universe.”

“Did you have a Class when you arrived?” I thought to ask.

“I dunno. Maybe. I think it had to do with music. I didn’t really care,” Tanya responded. Cordo stifled a scoff as I shot him a look. “Just found a quiet job in the city I dropped near and did my best to never die. Narcs found me after I beat the shit out of someone with a serving tray, shouting I wanted to go home to Mars.”

“Mars isn’t Terra though, is it?” Cordo pressed.

“No. Nope. Uh-uh, no way. Terrans, real Terrans, are stuck-up fascists that keep their boot on every other place that Humans moved out to,” she hissed with surprising venom. “My favorite history lessons were when Mars dropped the rocks in the Independence Wars. Easier to make than fission bombs and so much cheaper when you just strap-“

“Wait, did you say fission? A bomb, made with a fission core?” I snapped, my turn to press against the bars and get closer to a startled Mars-Terran.

“Uh-uhm, ye-yes? Why?” she said, having scuttled away.

“Does anyone else know those words? How to make them?”

“Practically every Terran, my time or before, that I’ve met knows about ‘em. They’re one of the biggest mistakes in our history. Even in the Independence Wars,” she hurriedly explained, unsure of my intentions. “If a Faction used one on a World, they unilaterally drew aggro from everyone else. No quarter.”

“Harrad, I am sorry to impose another duty on you, but this is another secret,” I murmured half-heartedly. “There are entries for a fission core material in the System now. If someone had the knowledge to navigate it-“

Tanya sat, quickly standing, meeting me against the bars. The last time we were this close, I’d put her teeth back into her jaws.

“If someone was as fucking evil to do what you think they did to me and everyone else, it’s only a matter of time,” she whimpered. “All that bullshit about a System being broken and being able to go home was a setup to just jumpstart playing a new game?! God damn it, I’m so gullible!”

Another candle lit, Harrad came alongside to hand it to Tanya. She looked at it as if it were an Artifact Tier reward gifted from a mythical Sovereign raid. I’d never seen someone so happy to let hot wax drip over their fingers while staring into the small yellow flame.

“As you were saying regarding wolves?” Cordo reminded me, now that Tanya was preoccupied.

“Right. Yes. There were experiments done to see if an Artificial was the same being constantly resurrected to fight again, or if each was a separate entity,” I continued while going to stand by the Orc. “Some old notes from a few decades ago. All types of appraising Skills suggested there were no repeated individuals. Only that the creatures were the same blocks of life put back together. Without a soul, no memory of what came before.”

That night my parents were arguing intruded for a moment. Had to push it away.

“I could be wrong. I hope I’m wrong. But, if the Arcanocracy leader responsible for breaking the System found a way,” I whispered while turning away from Tanya, “the chosen were grouped with cannon fodder. One-arm and Faceless must have had Overseer roles, on the rest of the Administratum invaders. And, if they died…”

“The System gained new deaths to alleviate its hunger,” he finished grimly. “Despicable. Absolute debauchery.”

“For all I know, Lyissa may have been part of those experiments. Or at least aware,” I sighed. Then frowned. “What happened to the other two, by the way?”

“Well, ah, that is a morbidly funny story. We discovered the threshold at which fall damage begins.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Faceless is still wounded, sequestered in the Rook somewhere, but One Arm volunteered after Ana was quite besides herself when your body disappeared. Fearing her wrath, Lyissa and Perez were able to calmly express the opinion that the dear Captain could serve a few other uses before expiring,” Cordo recounted with haphazard fondness and a pinch of revulsion. “Our spirited young Jake recognized One Arm, Arthur, as someone responsible for operating a machinegun.”

He paused, staring at his boots pensively.

“Laughing. Laughing as he pulled the trigger. I had no objections after that.”

The honorable swashbuckling performer’s words rang ponderously between my ears.

“And so, he applied First Aid with each drop. Two floors is Human safe. Three is minor damage, a reliable percentage. We dropped Arthur a few times from the fourth and discovered a Minor Cripple could happen for the normal Terran. Fifth floor was severely damaging, we nearly lost him,” he relayed with clinical precision. “Certain death from the top floor, especially with the force of a Draco Assault aiding in his descent. There was no chance of cleaning him off every surface, so Lyissa opted to usher everyone out so that she could cauterize the lobby with a Flame Burst – in hindsight, not the wisest idea, it still reeks.”

“I saw Perez hop over the third-floor railing.”

“Ah, yes, the Lycanblood has a higher threshold, the first Tier of negligible damage starting at the fourth floor,” he related before giving me an odd glance. “Wait, what do you mean? Were you conscious when you apparated before us?”

“Oh, yes, I was waiting to see if everyone else was around. I didn’t particularly want to explain myself five different ways,” I chuckled, shrugging.

“Well, that rules out whether or not you hit your head on the floor before coming up with that truck story!” he laughed, clapping a hand on my shoulder approvingly. “Ancestor’s bones, my friend, you simply cannot help toying with Koliastrazana’s feelings, can you?”

“How do you mean?” I shifted my weight, facing him properly while cocking my head. “It’s my job to keep my partner on her toes, ready for anything. Sarcasm and humor are an acquired taste.”

“I cannot-, you daft Human,” he sighed, other large rust-colored hand laying over my scarred shoulder. “Confide in me honestly, with total veracity, have you not taken time to learn of Draco culture and customs?”

“No, not beyond what Liastra has told me,” I said warily, unsure of where this was going. “Beyond tempting fate when I fail to refer to her properly, I’ve treated her as I would any other person. Except, well, the usual antics as companions the rest of you so enjoy.”

“Ahhh, I see. It is not my place to drive you toward a course of action against your prerogative,” Cordo nodded ominously, “however should an opportunity to peruse literature about them or perhaps ask her directly presents itself, you may want to do so.”

“Right, this is going to earn me some kind of bruise afterwards or-?“

He gripped me faintly with utmost care, pulling me closer. Surprised he was being so forward and precise with his race’s notorious strength, I immediately gave him unerring focus.

“I would highly recommend it before even more troubled times come our way.”

We stared at each other for a few moments. This was an exceedingly rare occasion to see him lack bombastic airs while conversing with… well, anyone.

Finally, I nodded. He let go, crossing his arms and clearing his throat before looking at Harrad. The guard began whistling and made a show of thumbing his book to the last page he was on.

“Tanya.”

Her eyes left the flickering rod to meet mine, jumping slightly. More wax had pooled over her cupped wick as it gently consumed itself.

“Someone is going out to see if the Artificials are still spawning, as you would say. If that’s the case, we can start reaping Levels and maybe find a solution,” I said, looking to the side to avoid the vacant orbs that struggled to not look past me. “But, if… if maybe there were some kind of Infection or recruitment similar to Lycanthropy, maybe Vampirism or various types of Demon transformation, we can try and-“

“I-…”

Just like her candle doing its best to ward away the darkness, a glimmer of hope might have returned.

“I-… can think about it. Nothing else better to do.”

“Hardly. I can always try to-, tck-tck-clk-, find a book or, you know, talk,” Harrad scoffed with a clack. Those had to be mandibles.

Cordo was boring holes into the back of my head. I could feel his gaze.

“We need to get going. Be well,” I mustered a smile. “I hope you get to see the open sky tonight.”

Slipping out of the covert room, I immediately started for the stairs.

“You play a treacherous game, Seeker Jericho Amontillado,” Cordo Glassjaw, fellow former Seeker, whispered dangerously. “That was not a promise out of the goodness of your heart.”

“No, not wholly,” I replied without hesitation. “What choice do we have but use her? However, would you rather another person become a mere gray wolf, gone forever?”

Following me pace for pace, he was quiet until we reached the steps.

“Where is the unpassable line in the sand drawn, Jericho? Tell me.”

“I don’t know. It might not exist if we want to save everyone,” I responded despondently, unable to muster the strength to dramatically whirl around, opting to stand still. “Can you keep killing, knowing that every person reduced to death may be gone forever? Knowing that this haphazard Recursion has partially fixed the problem by marking people as things to be completely consumed?”

I stopped, leaned on the wall and fought to avoid sliding down to the floor.

“I started Reclamation because I am greedy. I want to sweep everything back together and put it back the way it was to the best of my ability – that includes everyone in it. Otherworlders that want to go home? We can work together, afterwards. If the Arcanocracy had but made their dreams known, the World could have come together to help. Now, they force us – me – to be a thief in the night, compelled to steal what they have broken before they put it back together the way they see fit.”

My fingers began twitching, other hand went to my scar to massage away the icy pinpricks of damaged nerves improperly cauterized together in defiance of the reality prescribed by the System.

“I can’t avoid sacrifices. I can avoid sacrificing my friends, loved ones. If I have to tell that damned, poor and misguided woman that there’s a chance she can live and live again, to experience death as an inconvenience as it has been since the foundation of my, your, OUR World, as a means to convince her to be part of an experiment that could go on to save one, a dozen, hundreds-

“I will. I will do it again. And again. And again.”

Stars below, I couldn’t hide it. Almost the entire arm was trembling, with fear, with rage.

“So that no one else need bear the burden. I was ready to put a bullet in Jake’s skull. I was somewhat ready to stop a Vorpal weapon from hurting one of you.”

Brutish, calloused hands grasped my limb. Maybe Focus Aura assisted with concentrating on not becoming an apoplectic wreck because his presence seemed to soothe the injury ever so slightly.

“There’s something else you haven’t told us about what happened, isn’t there?” he discreetly whispered.

I almost kept silent.

“Maimed. Needs a Surgeon.”

“It must be an Attribute penalty of some sort,” he noted, shaking his head. Cordo was buying time to think. “I can’t recommend you go out into any combat situation with this, not without all of us. Maybe at all.”

“Let’s just hope Jake or someone else can step up and resign themselves to a life of setting bones and bringing back the Fatally Injured,” I sighed. “And that Ana brings back the means to do so.”

We slowly began the descent to the ground floor. I might assist Sonnie some more, come to think. Maybe go back to the Rook and rifle through all the storage rooms and offices for other trinkets, now that we had been able to complement each other’s Skills.

“You will be delighted to know that Maekita and I, once I tell her, won’t be needing to relieve you of your head before this is over,” Cordo growled with mock bravado. “It seems to be ruled by a generous heart with benevolent intentions regarding conquest of the World.”

I stared at him.

Grinned.

Couldn’t stop myself from a bout of guffawing.

“Oh, Cordo, never change my friend,” I managed through the fit, my bad arm looped around his back while we continued on with our day.

It didn’t shake. Only the tiniest of trembles.