I strolled down the side of the cobble street in the Academy, admiring the way the sweeping arches of the bridges I strolled through twinkled on the underside with the glow of various bits of technology. I mused about my assignment while watching a silvery sparrow with flakes of snow drifting off its wings make large sweeping dives above the shops.

It has to look like an accident. Harder than it sounds in a magical city rife with technological anachronisms; do they have the magical equivalent of security cameras? Or forensics? Probably.

My gaze followed the winter sparrow up to a large stalactite with orange, holographic rings orbiting its spire.

Some of this stuff looks even more impressive than Earth’s. What is that? An internet tower?

I blew out a frustrated sigh while my head buzzed with possible difficulties and solutions to my macabre puzzle. My eyes roved from the spire to a multitude of pipes and wires all decorating the shadowy recesses of the heights.

Kinda messy though. I wonder if it’s safe to have all those wires crossing over each other.

The crack of a whip wrenched my gaze back to ground level just in time to step out of the way of a small car-shaped carriage. The driver sat in a chair rising up through where the windshield should be and shouted obscenities at daydreaming pedestrians that got in his way. So at me. My eyes caught of the ramshackle construction of the machine as sputtered and popped its way down the avenue.

Jesus. Do they even test these things before throwing them out here? That doesn’t look...safe...at all…

A grin slowly split my lips and I bared my teeth in joy. “Aha~ With no QA it could hardly be surprising if something ‘tragic’ happened now and again.”

I made a quick turn into a small alley between two shops. Ducking my head to avoid a small cleaner drone, a neat bit of magic that involved ‘programming’ compressed water to perform simple tasks - something that could only be done once you had hit in magic, I moved into one of the many tunnels into the outer ring of the Academy. As I walked, a plan started spinning together in my head. I had been at the Academy for a few months now and had never seen the equivalent of a safety or quality assurance tech anywhere in the city. This made sense on some levels as it was strictly illegal to tamper with or attempt to construct magical technology without either being in the guild, or having a permit. So basically, if you made something that failed catastrophically, you were going to lose your livelihood at the very least. There was only ONE1 place that slackened these restrictions in order to foster learning. The Academy. SELLING student experiments was still another matter entirely, but that’s why I was here. I covered my smile with a black cloth and began sauntering confidently up to a dirt-covered woman lounging on a wicker chair nearby.

“Fuck off Jin, ah’ve told you before and ah’ll tell ye again no-one sells “mahna potions.” Ah don’t care how hard ye pester meh it doesn’t even make sense. Hows mana suppos’t to be a liquid anyways?”

I held up both my hands in a placating gesture. “Now now Jess calm down I’m not here for that.”

“Uh huh.” Jess fixed a glare at me with one of her eyes.

“Really. I’m here for some Simg.” Student Made Magical Goods, Simg for short. Sometimes code didn’t have to be clever to be effective.

“Yu know th’ rules.” Jess jerked a thumb behind her and went back to whatever it was she was doing before I hailed her. I nodded once then walked past her and to the back of the building she guarded. In no time at all I found the large trapdoor set into the wall and descended into the cellar, official store of the ‘Auctioneers Guild’. The rules she mentioned were pretty simple too, pay what you feel the goods are worth, and if you shortchange by too much, don’t expect to keep your anonymity. In the same way it tended to draw too much attention to overpay, so it was actually a great place to practice identifying the worth of magical tech. Hardly a necessary skill to an assassin, but a fun way to spend an evening.

At the bottom of the short set of steps opened a single room nearly the size of the building above it. The room had several rows of tables on one side with small magical creations on it, and large cordoned sections on the other side filled with constructions too large or unstable to leave on a table. The combination of hisses, hums, sparks, and pops swept forward like a physical wall the second I crossed the threshold of the room.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The sound wasn’t new to me, but where before I had been looking for cheap, reliable goods and saw that cacophony as the harbinger of reality crushing my dreams, now I was looking for the worst, most unstable pile of junk I could get my hands on. It barely took a minute to find the perfect candidate. A three-inch wide ball of violently vibrating metal with a large, conspicuously sparking, button on top. A small square of parchment below the device read:

Mid-Tier Kinetic Battery.

Apply the enhancement at the push of a button.

No mana required!

As the beginner level workshop professor had once graded my attempt at a spoon: “This is certain death in an uncertain number of uses.”

As the sun set behind the Academy, the last rays of light filtering through the gap between two colossal mountains, lights across the city flickered, crackled, buzzed, and hummed to life. Great glowing balloons floated from the top of towers, the massive defense beacons outside the city rumbled awake, and tens of small street shops opened awnings to prepare for the flood of students making their way home. Just off the bustling main pass, now crowded with student and vendor alike, were many small, well-kept gardens beloved by many residents in the city for the city’s restriction on vendors setting up near parks, allowing a quiet path home. One particular garden was quieter than most, both as it was farther up the mountain than most, but also as it seemed a bit less cared for and resplendent than the usual Academy garden. Marshal Hendrick breathed deeply in the cool night air, the scent of rafflesia blooms scattered about the garden flavoring the air quite pleasantly. He allowed his lips to curl into a small grin and leaned contentedly on the small fence at the border of the garden, assumedly there to keep any drunks from tumbling to their death, and gazed over the city below. His grin froze as the peace of the garden was fractured by discordant yelling.

“COME GET ‘CHER VERY OWN MAGIC TOYS! GREAT FOR KIDS! GREAT FOR BIG PEOPLE TOO!”

Marshal turned very slowly to the corner of his garden, where the single most garish pile of rubbish calling itself a vendor cart was leaning precariously close to the edge of the garden. While his eyes never left the slapped together wood construction and cheap paint, his feet quickly stalked closer to the monstrosity.

“Vendors--” He hissed but stopped himself as he noticed a student approaching up the path. “Vendors,” he continued, “are forbidden from setting up near nor inside parks. Perhaps the guards would enjoy a word with you?” Marshal stopped in front of the stall and took in the sight of an old, wrinkled man paling visibly at Marshal’s threat.

“A-ah. T-there’s no need to go that far. I-is there?” He stuttered.

Marshal eyed the edge of the garden and saw a few loose rocks shift bare inches from the back of the stall.

It would be so easy to dump all this garbage over the cliff.

He flicked his gaze down the path to the student who seemed both reluctant to get any closer and to miss a show.

But not with an audience.

“It looks like there is need to go that far, isn’t there?” Marshal spat, “You’re breaking the law.”

“P-please sir, if the guards confiscate my goods it would ruin me. J-just take this b-bauble as a token of good faith and I’ll move s-somewhere else right away.” The old man hobbled out of his shop and held out an ornate golden box with a black button on top. Marshal eyed it for a second before snatching it from the man’s hands. Marshal stepped back and, as the man began to reveal hidden wheels on the side of his stall, pushed the button. Immediately, Marshal felt a surge of energy flow from the box and settle in his limbs. Marshal’s eyebrows rose in surprise then settled low on his brow in manic glee. With no warning, he planted one foot on the side of the stall-turned-cart and pushed. Before the old man could even blink, the cart he was next to flew a good ten feet off the side of the cliff and plummeted onto rocks below.

“Ahahahaha! What a gift! Old man I really must thank you, this feeling is incredible!” Marshal laughed again before raising his foot toward the shaking old man. “Why don’t I help you out too? After all, you are ruined now, let me give you some mercy.” Marshal bared his teeth in a grin even as he heard the sound of the student’s footsteps running away.

With this little toy, I can catch them before they’re even halfway out of the garden.

Marshal chuckled once more, his leg still poised to launch the man off the cliff, and pushed the button on his new favorite gadget.

Jin stood outside his shared apartment while creating a small shower of water over himself for the hundredth time. He glanced down at the run-off and noted with satisfaction that it was no longer red.

I have to admit. Violent kinetic transfer led to a lot more...misting...than I expected.

He quickly combed his fingers through his hair, then grimaced and did so three more times in quick succession once he dislodged a stained yellow molar on his first pass. He shivered and spat before trooping up to his room for a nice, long nap.

1Ok two, but we’ll get there