The guards at the bridge were waiting for them. Three of them wearing the same sort of appropriated armor, nothing uniform about them except the intent gazes they fixed on Zoe and her party. Zoe prepared for a fight, especially since the unconscious body of one of their captains was being carried, but when she got closer, the three guards bowed.

In a moment of stunned silence, the wind swept snow along the street and howled along the icy course of the frozen river. The bridge stretched out beyond the small barricade of cars and construction fencing. On the other side of the bridge, the buildings were less burned, and trees, brown, singed, but even bright green, stuck out between them.

The guards rose as one and smiled. There were three of them. One old man and woman, and a younger man who looked out of breath — ruddy-cheeked in the bitter cold of the wind.

“Sister Salt sent us a messenger,” said the old man in halting English, his accent thick and French. “She told us to let you through without trouble. Sarah should return to the perimeter. Alex here,” he indicated the young man. “Will show you to Sister Salt’s quarters directly.”

Zoe pondered the sudden change in developments.

“I’m here for the polyp,” she said. “Not for the sister. I have limited time.”

“The sister knows why you are here,” the old man said patiently. “The polyp is near her quarters. Please, follow Alex. The Sister will explain everything.”

Anton’s eye slipped past Zoe’s ear.

“We outclass them,” he whispered for her. “And I see no traps.”

She nodded.

“Very well,” she said, louder as the wind rose cold and moaning to drown out her words. “Lead on.”

###

It felt strange to move through the burned-out town in the company of strangers. Entire faces of buildings blackened and crumbled. The exposed lives inside open to the air like patients abandoned mid-surgery: living rooms all charred and melting, furniture with bones exposed, light fixtures melting from the ceiling. The toxic barbeque smell of things that were never meant to burn drifted on the air, and though the smell never faded, intermingling with the acidic stink of the mantis, the grief of the burned buildings faded as they progressed deeper into the town.

Fleshripper and Alex carried the body of the unconscious captain. Zoe grew worried about how long the man had been out of it, especially since a fire-based build should have a high Vitality, but the guards insisted he would be fine once he saw the Sister.

With every step deeper, it seemed she stepped into another’s control.

The buildings grew clean; the streets grew straighter, and there was a sense of preserved history in gabled townhouses and the cobblestone stretches of street. Road signs in French directed them to the center of the town and Zoe turned the street and stopped and gasped.

People.

Civilization.

And glowing above them like a gentle sun, the polyp knelt amongst the tents and shacks built around the tall town hall. It seemed people had taken to living in its proximity to the town square, as opposed to the fire-damaged buildings surrounding it. Golden flesh seamed with heat like smoldering coals. Its eyes, lidded, but staring out across the town. Was it a baby? An adult?

These felt like the wrong questions. It was some other form, less definable, as it knelt and passed as human — passed as one might read shapes in clouds passing overhead. The red gaze, the ruby, burning gaze, passed over Zoe as she stood and held her breath.

[Welcome, Zoe Chambers]

The voice was at once the familiar system, but warmer, as though she finally saw a face when before she only heard words whispered through cold channels linked to her mind.

[You are eligible for the title of Mayor. Step forth to announce your candidacy]

[Mayoral Quest: if your level is equal to, or greater than the current mayors, you may approach and contend with my blessing. Together we shall bring glory to our town!]

“Did you hear that?” she asked Anton.

He nodded.

“It said I was eligible.”

“Oh?” Jack turned to face them. “It didn’t say that to me.”

“None of us have heard that either,” said Alex with a puberty-crackled voice.

Anton started as the young man spoke.

“I didn’t think you would ever talk,” he said. “What do you mean nobody heard that?”

Alex shrugged.

“Only Sister Salt was eligible. It makes sense considering everything she’s done for us. Did you know that…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anton said, then he frowned. “What level are you, Alex?”

The young man — no, the teenager — puffed out his chest.

“Level 11. I got my body path last week, just before the polyp came.”

“Is that high?” Anton asked.

“Yeah, of course it is!” Alex’s chest deflated. “Right? I’m one of the strongest in the camp, except for the Sister’s elite, of course.”

“Of course. What level are you Jack?”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I hit 18 while we were fighting the mantis earlier.”

“I’m 20,” Anton said. “That brief scuffle with the ambassador sent me over the edge. So we know Sister Salt can’t be more than level 20.”

Alex’s eyes widened.

“The… the ambassador? And you’re still alive?”

Anton poked his chest.

“Do we look alive? Yeah, I think level 20 might be the cut-off for polyp acceptance. That was the cut-off for your quest as well, right, Zoe?”

Zoe paused. Could it be…? Of course, it was.

This must have been Rue’s plan from the beginning: speed-level her to 20 and then get her to a polyp. All within a couple of weeks of incorporation. But why? What did he have to gain?

Well, she knew what he wanted: death.

And she was happy to oblige him, but…

She closed her eyes, breathed, opened.

It wasn’t comforting to think of herself as the knife when someone else was the hand.

Zoe realized she was amongst people now. Before, as she walked through the burned-out buildings, the cold empty homes, and the snow-covered traces of massacre and flight — she hadn’t felt as though she was truly in a town. It felt too much like wandering a lonely street, late at night, where the only people you might find are those you would rather lose.

But now she saw light, and warmth, and people trying to hold on.

Only a few streets broke off from the town square, but these streets held people. Dozens of them, more, enough that Zoe didn’t see all their faces at once, didn’t know them, forgot them until she turned back and looked again.

It was comforting to see people sitting at tables, rugged against the cold, talking, eating, drinking, laughing. Bonfires cast a pleasant heat. There was no snow on the ground, and the grassy areas sat green beneath the green sky. Shops sat open and occupied, with stalls out into the street, though each had wares that looked more varied and stolen than usual.

But with each step past the people, she saw more. The cracks in their smiles. The tired lines on their faces. She could correct those if she had her clinic… the thought made her chuckle.

Alex followed a trail of buckled concrete and cracked asphalt.

“The polyp left this,” he said as he pointed at the trail. “It landed elsewhere, but crawled here after Sister Salt became mayor.”

They reached the courthouse.

“Sister Salt is waiting for you in the mayor’s office,” he said.

The cracked trail led around the courthouse to the garden on the other side.

“Where does that lead?” Anton said.

“The garden, it’s where the polyp sits,” he shifted uncomfortably as the people of the town watched them. “You should come inside. Sister Salt will explain everything.”

They followed inside and were led into a waiting room. Bookshelves lined the walls. The chandelier above them was unlit, but the open windows provided enough light. The leather couches squeaked as they sat down and sighed. The two guards carried the unconscious captain into another room and a secretary brought them water, Gatorade, an assortment of crackers, lunch meat, sliced fruit, cheese, and even some beers. The spread sat invitingly on a table as the three relaxed.

Zoe picked at some salami as Anton inspected and cracked a beer. In a surprising moment of solidarity, Anton passed a beer to Jack. They sat in silence for a moment before Jack spoke:

“So we’re here for you to become mayor?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“What if Sister Salt disagrees?”

“That doesn't matter.”

“How long are we going to wait?”

Zoe checked her internal timer. She had ninety minutes until the Gambler pulled them away to the next show. Her foot tapped with irritation.

“Not long.”

“And you’re sure about this?” Jack said. “I mean, you never struck me as someone who wants to run a town.”

“I need to do this,” Zoe said, to herself, to the others, and anyone listening. “If anyone gets in my way, they’ll regret it.”

Anton nodded.

“Good thing you’re doing it because I don’t want to be mayor.”

She smiled.

“You would be a terrible mayor.”

“Who knows what a mayor is with this system? I might be perfect, but I don’t want it. Let’s get this quest finished and the blade from around my throat.”

Jack had lazily sipped his beer as they spoke, but at Anton’s remark, he leaned closer.

“What is he talking about?”

Zoe looked at him. His heart buzzed inside her technique like a fly in a spiderweb — time for the truth.

“Did you push Bella into the pit?”

“What are you talking about?”

“She fell. You were the one closest to her when we swung across the pit. She was at a higher level than you, but she fell. What happened?”

Jack pulled fitfully at her technique, but the whispers clutched his heart.

“She just slipped,” he said as his expression paled. “Hot sauce hit her eyes. She moved, and I dropped her.”

Zoe’s Willpower squeezed the air.

“Just dropped her? Didn’t push?”

“No, of course I didn’t…”

He continued talking, explaining, but Zoe listened to his heartbeat. Listened to the pulsing, as though it could speak, could whisper the truth.

Jack’s face paled as he fell silent.

Zoe studied him. He was pale with fear, his heart thundering, but it remained in her control.

“I trust you,” she said.

Anton shook his head.

“I saw him.”

“Did you see him?” Zoe asked. “Or do you think you saw him?”

“No… hmm…”

“Everything happened so fast!” Jack said. “I swear. I didn’t want to be with Roman’s crew. I didn’t want to serve a demon. You saved me, why would I betray you?”

“Why should we trust you after you fed people to a demon? You probably loved it.”

Jack charged Anton, and suddenly they were wrestling.

Zoe’s chain shivered as she watched the two men knock over the table as they grappled. Food and beer crashed onto the carpet. It was sloppy. She could end it in a moment, but a distracting thought ran through her head: How much did she trust Anton?

The man had come out of nowhere into her life. Did he see Jack as a threat? Maybe he wanted to get between them and saw this as his way of doing so.

Zoe frowned. If she had seen anything, it was that Anton seemed to lack a sex drive — especially toward her.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling he was dragging out a knife to stab her in the back. The sound of a scraping knife grew in her ear…

A moth fluttered across her heart.

She blinked.

“Stop,” she said.

They didn’t stop, and so her chain raced out and flicked them both in the back of the head. They scowled, rubbing at the spot, as Zoe’s chain fished the [Everywhere Lens] from Anton’s pocket.

“What are you doing?” Anton asked. “He’s a traitor. We should take him out into the garden and bury him.”

As an answer, Zoe fit the lens over her eye and activated her technique.

[Mind’s Eye Incision]

The ethereal blade slipped free and sliced the room. Nothing was disturbed — not the books on the shelves, the leather on the couches, or the food scattered on the floor.

But they sliced through a technique.

“Why did you do that?” Anton repeated. “We need to take care of this traitor before…”

He stopped and turned.

The decrepit corpse of the thing that was Cassy stood behind him. Her grey lips were against his ear, and she whispered the hateful words he had been speaking before.