They turned down an alley; the theater’s street was a few blocks away. A few idle passersby milled up and down the road, avoiding eye contact with each other and the team members.

They became aware of a commotion across the street. “No! No! Leave me alone!” They saw an old lady struggling with a teenage boy. Finally, he tore her purse from her and sprinted away. “Help!” she screamed. “Thief! Somebody help!” None of the passersby tried to intervene; most didn’t even look at her.

“We need to do something!” Lorarona cried.

“Don’t even think about it,” Miles growled. “Did you already forget what happens when we try to help?”

“But this is different!” she protested.

A large man wearing a black suit and black fedora abruptly stepped in front of the fleeing teenager; they collided, and the thief fell to the ground. He scrambled to his feet to run the other way, and immediately collided with another large man. In an instant, he was surrounded by four brutes; all were dressed similarly. One grabbed the purse from him, and the other three began beating him mercilessly.

The one with the purse walked back to the old lady; she stood there helplessly, still trembling. He handed it back to her. “I’m so sorry for your trouble, ma’am. People like that give the whole neighborhood a bad name, wouldn’t you agree? I assure you, you’re safe to shop here, and are welcome anytime. Here, let me give you something for your trouble.” He dropped a small handful of gold coins into her hand, tipped his hat to her, and walked off, quickly disappearing. She looked around nervously, then stuffed the gold coins into her purse and briskly walked away. The passersby continued to avoid eye contact, or acknowledge anything out of the ordinary was happening.

The team looked back to the site of the commotion; they suddenly noticed that the teenager and three thugs were no longer in sight. “Where’d they go?” Clancy asked. Noninja shrugged; the team exchanged unsettled glances, then continued toward the theater’s street.

A few moments later, they heard heavy, hurried footsteps, accompanied by pained breathing. A pair of pudgy city watch officers entered the area, completely out of breath. They looked around wildly for a few seconds, then turned to the team. “We got a report of a purse snatching. Did you see anything?”

Lorarona started to answer, but Miles put his hand on her shoulder. “No, officers,” he answered. “No purse snatching here.” She looked back with a pleading expression; he flashed her a severe look.

The officers glanced uneasily at each other as they continued to pant. “Sod it,” one cursed. “If only we could be everywhere at once.”

“Good luck finding your man,” Miles offered as he gently pushed his teammates forward. They took the hint and resumed their journey, leaving the officers to grouse between themselves.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Lorarona waited until they were well out of earshot before she turned to face Miles. “What the devil was that all about?” she snarled.

Miles rolled his eyes. “Do I really have to explain to you how the system works? Or in this case, doesn’t work?”

Lorarona glared at him, her arms akimbo. “Yes! You do!”

Miles grimaced. “Well, not here. Maybe later.” He continued walking. Lorarona scoffed and moved to catch up with him and the others.

Finally, they found themselves standing outside of the Radiant Theater. A large sculpted sign, now tattered, proclaimed as much. Spelled out on the marquee below it, in removable letters, was an incomplete version of the message “Temporarily closed”. Many of the windows were broken. Two pairs of double-doors would have led to the lobby, but both were barred from the inside with enormous wood timbers. Two large statues of angelic heralds stood to the sides, but both were covered in grime.

Noninja peered closely at the beams securing the doors. “Those look pretty thick,” he remarked. “It’d take a lot to get through them. Plus, we’d have to break the doors too.”

Miles eyed the large window between the doors; a ticket office was visible on the other side. There was a large crack in the glass, but it was otherwise intact. “We could probably get through right here.”

“Really?” Lorarona snapped. “In front of everybody?” A few scraggly passersby eyed them with curiosity. “We should first look for other ways in.”

“Wow, guys,” Clancy trilled, examining the walls on either side of the ticket office. “These posters are classic! It’s too bad they’re so faded.”

“Yeah,” Noninja jabbed. “Otherwise, their value would rise from nothing, to…nothing.”

“What?” Clancy protested. “Don’t you have any love for kitsch? Am I really talking to the team that took on Rikki’s mission?”

The team exchanged uncomfortable glances; Clancy moved closer to one poster and stared intently. “I mean, look at the flamboyant content! This poster literally advertises a production called ‘Human Skeletal Champion Warpriest Of Sarenrae 3’. Three? There were actually two other episodes in this scintillating series?”

“Clancy, get serious,” intoned Noninja.

“Aw, c’mon! Are you seeing this?” Clancy continued to gush like a fanboy. “There’s a painting of a skeleton, wearing scale mail and a polished helmet, wielding a glowing-white longsword! I’ve half a mind to spend the ten minutes it would take to cast a proper ‘mending’ spell!” He knelt to look more closely below the painting. “And there’s more text here! ‘The first time, it was for his family. The second time, it was for his country. The third time, it was personal!’” He stood up, grinning. “I can only hope there was a sequel: ‘The fourth time, it was because the producer couldn’t afford his alimony payments!’”

“Would you pull it together already, Clancy?” Lorarona snapped. “What the devil is wrong with you today?”

Clancy flashed her a withering glare. “I already told you! I’m actually happy. It makes me want to do stupid things, like enjoy posters from ancient ersatz productions. I’m sure I’ll get used to it some day, like you all apparently did.” He strode toward the building’s corner. “Come on, everyone. Let’s go find another entrance, meet those who dwell inside, and probably ruin their whole day. Time’s a wastin’!”

The other three exchanged uncomfortable glances, then moved to follow.