Lowe arrived with little fanfare at the Celestial Temple.

Indeed, such was the volume of people milling around its ground floor that he doubted anyone would have noticed should he have been carrying a banner with the words 'Murder Investigator' emblazoned on it.

The giant lobby-cum-reception area of the Temple was open at all sides, with waves upon waves of humanity surging in and out.

Any semblance of order Lowe might have hoped to maintain around the crime scene had long since been shattered. It seemed as if the entire population of Soar had seized the opportunity to trample across the Temple's pristine marble floor. Which, considering the infamous neediness of most of the gods here, was probably true. Morning prayers hit a little different when the deity you were worshipping kept scrupulous records as to who had bothered to be in touch that day.

And meted out the smitings accordingly.

Pushing and shoving his way through the crowds, Lowe finally ended up at the portal he had been told would take him to the Third Floor. However, as he raised his hand to activate it, he cursed at seeing it glowing red. Unavailable.

"Inspector Lowe?"

His eyes turned to the giant guard standing to the portal's left. Lowe was not a small man, but even he found himself cricking his neck to look upwards. A who not only never missed leg day but also had his Level expressed as ?? Of course, that might just mean his bosses were masking a comparatively low level so the Warder could go about his business without being seen as a target. However, it was much more likely Lowe had found himself in the presence of a monstrously heavy hitter.

"That's me. And you are?"

"Warder Latham. I have been assigned to you whilst you investigate what has occurred on Temple grounds."

They shook hands. It was not Lowe's first rodeo, so he avoided any attempt to demonstrate his virility by squeezing the Warder's hand. He liked his bones just fine where they were.

"'Assigned' as in you will throw yourself, selflessly, in the way of any attempts on my life?"

The giant man grinned wolfishly. "Might be worth rationalising your expectations a touch there, little man. My role is to rip you in two if the Temple Council deem you become a threat to their interests."

"Ah," Lowe stood awkwardly for a moment. Can you give me a quick heads-up if you think I'm flirting with doing anything that might trigger that response?"

The Warder's smile did not so much a quivver. "Probably not, to be honest."

"Excellent. Glad I know where I stand with you. In a potentially giant pool of my own viscera without appreciating why."

"It won't be personal."

"Good stuff. I'll keep that in mind."

Lowe nodded towards the portal. "I presume as I was woken up and ordered along here, I wouldn't be crossing any unseen lines by requesting access to the Third Floor."

Latham touched the portal, which immediately shimmered green. "That would be telling. Why don't you step through and find out?"

"Awesome. I can already tell we're going to be great friends."

With hardly a wince - well, not much of one anyway - Lowe walked forward and vanished.

*

Lowe hated portals.

There were all sorts of Skills that could be taken to make the dematerialisation and reconstruction that took place when using one more comfortable. However, most of those were only accessible to those over Level 20, and the few that weren't were so prohibitively expensive that they were the sole purview of the more affluent members of the aristocracy.

"I'm no expert - no, hang on, I am. I have the qualifications and everything - but is vomiting all over the crime scene absolute textbook behaviour."

Lowe wiped his mouth and looked over at Cenorth. "Fuck you very much."

"If you're quite finished?" Cenorth stepped over the pool of Lowe's hastily consumed breakfast and beckoned for him to follow. "She's in the receiving chamber at the far end. I should warn you, though, it's not a pretty sight."

"Don't worry. I'm strictly a one-boak-a-day guy."

Cenorth looked back at him with an expression of someone starting to regret his recent life choices. "Are you sure you are up for this, Jana?"

Lowe ignored him. "If she's such a mess, are we sure about identification? Seems pretty unlikely that anyone could mess with a High Priestess in her own chamber."

"Don't worry about that. It's definitely her." Cenorth picked imaginary fluff off the shoulder of his long, black coat. In response, Lowe self-consciously tried to shake out the worst of the creases in his jacket. He always felt like Cenorth's penniless cousin from the arse-end of nowhere when they stood next to each other. "There's enough of her left to make that pretty undeniable."

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

"Who found her?"

"Her secretary, a minor-Classed called Aintra Webber. Does something with spreadsheets, if you can credit it? Who knows what a High Priestess needed with that but he seems competent enough. He's the only one on the Floor who has access to the portal and each of the chambers. The locked the portal down sharply after we made them aware of what had happened. Incidentally . . ."

"I have a shadow?"

"I mean, sure, if it makes you feel better describing him as such. You do you. I'd probably be tempted to view him as an assassin with a knife already drawn if I were you. But, you know, sure. A shadow. Nice one."

"Awesome. Cheers for that. So, ignoring my impending death, the only person - outside of the that knows what's in that chamber is this . . . Aintra?"

"For the moment. But if any of the other avatars decide to poke their esteemed noses in, I doubt that will stay the case for long." Cenorth glanced at his watch. "Look, Jana, I don't want to shine you on here. This is the hospital pass to beat all other hospital passes. Whoever murdered a Level 67 High Priestess is going to be well above the capacity of the Security Services to bring to justice. If you ask me - and I have made my opinion on the matter plain - this will be a matter of gods settling scores. You're on this because I have no one else that's . . . "

"Expendable?"

"That's the spirit. Knew I could count on you."

"Fuck's sake."

"Look, I know how you feel."

"Really? You've done much investigating under threat of summary slaughter, have you, mate?"

Cenorth's face hardened. "Inspector Lowe. You have the opportunity here to repair your reputation. There are those who have always whispered that your success rate had more to do with your Class than any natural talent for detective work. What better way to shut them up than to clear up the murder of an avatar using nothing more than your wits and instincts? Now, you can go back home and play Private Detective - a role that my sources suggest you are curiously unsuited to - or you can do your best to clear up this potentially lethally dangerous case."

"And I'm back in the Service if I solve it?"

"Not at all. But if you are still in one piece when this is all over, I'll go into bat for you with ."

Lowe bit back his initial, harsh response. Cenorth didn't owe him any favours. In fact, his friend had helped Lowe's career in more than one way over the years. The scandal that brought him down was entirely of his own making, and nothing his boss could have done could possibly have mitigated it.

"Okay. I need a list of everyone who had access to this Floor before the shut it down. I also need a plan of any and all places that are linked to this portal."

"I can do that for you."

During the little contretemps, they had reached the door to the receiving chamber. Without another word, Lowe pushed it open and slipped inside.

The scene on the other side was unlike anything Lowe had ever seen before. He had spent long enough in the Soar Security Services to be no shrinking violet around violent death. In a world entirely governed by how quickly you could gather XP, regular and shocking predations of the strong upon the weak were basically an occupational hazard of life.

Sure, the Mayor did what he could to ensure there were other, less homicidal routes to advancement - Dungeons, Raids, Quests and suchlike - but when it came down to it if you were on the cusp of reaching your next Level and a squishy bag of points shambled next to you, the chances were, an 'accident' was going to occur.

But even within that context, the remains of the High Priest . . . Bloody hellfire on a stick.

The first thing that struck Lowe was that this wasn't a common-or-garden massacre. Just looking at the dismembered corpse told him that. If the victim was a Level 5 nonentity, then this was the sort of aftermath that could be pretty common.

Very moveable object meets fucking irresistable force.

"The High Priestess was a Level 67?" Lowe asked Cenorth quietly.

"Indeed."

"And we're sure of that? She wasn't somehow, I don't know, spoofing a higher Level and was actually as squishy as a marshmallow?"

"We're sure."

"Well, fuck me. This would suggest a reasonably small pool of suspects, I would suggest." Lowe looked around at the devastation. "I mean, is there even anyone that falls under our jurisdiction capable of doing this?"

"Looks can be deceiving. You, of all people, should know that." Cenorth was backing away now he could leave the case in someone else's hands. "It goes without saying that there will be a lot of eyes on this, so be sure to let me know if there are any resources I can push your way. I mean, no one is willing to work with you - the words 'avoiding the splash zone' have been used - but if there is any technical support you require, give me a shout."

With that, the Commander vanished towards the portal, leaving Lowe alone with a dead body and a who may - or may not - be about to kill him at any moment.

Having no other ideas, Lowe crossed to the dismembered torso on the Scarlet Throne. Sprays of arterial blood spread out from it, decorating the whole space. Due to the astonishing healing properties of someone of the High Priestess' Level, there were pints upon pints of the stuff sloshing around.

"I'll state the obvious," Lowe said, speaking to himself as much as to the , "I'm going to presume the head was the last body part to be removed. I doubt even a Level 67 can heal their way through decapitation."

There was no reply from his giant shadow, not that Lowe expected one. "So, we've got an assailant capable of inflicting catastrophic damage whilst at the same time able to subdue our victim so that she was unable to fight back."

"How do you know she didn't resist?" The question was a low rumble from the corner of the room.

Lowe waved to the space around them. "No fire damage. I'd be pretty damn certain that if she was even nearly in possession of her faculties, this place would be a melted ground zero."

He was aware of Latham moving behind him, but he did his best not to shiver. "So, what, someone knocked her out and chopped her up?"

Lowe shrugged. "Could be. If she was a lower Level, I could imagine the attacker could have suppressed her aura. Maybe prevented her casting? I've seen that before. But Level 67? I mean, the sort of Mana that would require would be . . ."

The glanced upwards. "Arkola?"

Lowe kept his face exceptionally still. "Could be," he said neutrally. If anyone was going to accuse the supreme being at the top of the Celestial Temple of merking a subordinate, it certainly wasn't going to be him who did it first. Cenorth might be willing to put in a good word for him, but even a Commander of the Security Services wouldn't put his head in that particular monster's mouth.

"Could be a gang of pissed-off worshippers with a very specialised set of skills who just got phenomenally lucky?"

"Lucky. Hmmm." Latham seemed distinctly unimpressed. "So, what next?"

Lowe shrugged again. He sensed he would be making that gesture a lot in this case. "I guess we speak to the secretary and then to anyone who might wish the High Priestess harm."

Latham laughed. "That, my little friend, will be quite a list."