Camila had a blank look in her eyes. “A what?” she asked, looking around at the expressions of the others in the back of the carriage.

Allen’s face was between a smirk and a resigned smile directed at Amelia. The Healer returned a solid glare while Ty looked stunned. Camila didn’t seem to have any immediate reaction, but she at least understood that whatever Allen had revealed about himself wasn’t good.

Ty glanced over at the Berserker, “Yo, have you been living under a rock, Cam?” he asked slowly.

The Defender’s fists were clenched, and his face had gone ashen. Allen would have congratulated his level of self-control in the face of his supposed enemy if he hadn’t seen the whole situation as being borderline ridiculous in the first place. If they had been anywhere but in the back of a magicarriage with a dozen slaves while also being mutually bound by Andy’s pact, then Allen was sure that Ty would have attacked him immediately.

Such was the power of indoctrination.

“Uh, actually, I’ve been living in a cave outside of a dungeon until a few days ago,” Camila said.

“I figured you were a dungeon gremlin,” Allen replied, chuckling to himself.

“Hey, screw you kid!” Camila shouted, “At least I’m not a psycho. I only kill monsters.”

Allen raised an eyebrow. “But it’s not really killing if they just respawn, is it?” he replied with a grin.

“Both of you shut the hell up!” Ty said, raising his voice over the bout between the two and silencing the back of the carriage again. He turned his glare back to Allen and grumbled to himself. “Don’t you try to worm out of the question with lies. Who are you really?”

Allen glanced around for a moment. “Um, like I said, I’m a Spade.” He snorted and made eye contact with the Defender. “Maybe you don’t believe me. You people probably think the Spades are Nazi Al-Qaeda or something, but we’re actually more like the Illuminati.”

Amelia sighed after a second of silence. “What?” she said dryly.

Allen laughed. “I’ve always wanted to say that but none of those groups are from this world.” He held his hands up placatingly and continued. “Let me explain. The Spades are a secret group that hide in plain sight. Our goal is to oppose corruption and dark machinations at the highest levels. Our methods are extreme, sure, but that’s what it takes to defeat real evil. To fertilize a crop field, it must first be burned; to rebuild a nation it must first be razed to the ground. The truth is that kindness only feeds evil, only a bigger terror will even get noticed. The only way to make people’s lives better is by removing those who make their lives worse.”

“That’s insane,” Ty began. “When the Spades attacked the Imperial capital six years ago, do you really think it helped anyone? The city was destroyed and tens of thousands were killed. The Empire even decided to move their capital after the incident! The Emperor himself no longer feels safe in his own castle.”

Allen laughed again. “The Emperor is an idiotic manchild who’s only real job is to smile and wave like a good little politician—”

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

“How dare you!”

“—He’s a fool who shouldn’t be allowed to run a bath, much less the largest superpower in the world. Of course, he’s just a sellout and a puppet after all. But maybe you’re not ready for the truth yet,” Allen continued, “I’ll tell you about all that attack when you’re ready to listen.”

Ty’s anger looked like it would boil over, but instead he just grunted and turned around. “How would you know anything about the attack on Grisshall.”

“Because I was there, obviously,” Allen replied instantly, causing Ty’s shoulders to stiffen.

The Defender didn’t continue though, he only remained silent with his gaze directed away. The atmosphere remained stiff as the magicarriage continued North along the intercity highway. They had been traveling for six and a half hours, making it around eight at night. At the speed they were going, the nearest settlement would still be another hour or so away.

“I can only hope that a Gate appears somewhere nearby. It’s not that statistically improbable… It’s a fifty-fifty.”

“Why tell us any of that?” Amelia asked firmly. “What do you gain by revealing yourself?”

Allen glanced over at the healer as he was distracted from his thoughts. “Huh?” he started “It doesn’t make a difference to me. Besides, you all would have found out anyway after we get to where we’re going.”

“What? Where are we going?” Camila said.

“I thought we were going to the capital to have someone help us free these slaves.” Ty said flatly.

“No no,” Allen began, looking around the back of the magicarriage. There were nearly two dozen slaves lined up, mostly women and children. He sighed and looked back at Amelia. “You know what the thorns are for right?” he asked rhetorically, tapping one of the red gems embedded in the back of a nearby slave’s neck. “They keep the person from dying or committing suicide to escape, and they enforce commands with mind magic. That’s most of it, but they can also be tracked with fate anchors. At the rate we’re going, somebody will catch up to us eventually.”

“They’re tracking us!?” Camila started.

“Yeah probably,” Allen continued. “Shady companies and governments will buy the male slaves who can do manual labor, but the nobles usually go for the women and children for their amusement. Judging by this batch,” Allen motioned around the inside of the magicarriage, “I suspect whoever these slaves were meant for will have enough money and spite to come after us in full force. We likely won’t make it to the capital before they find us, and we probably won’t get much help there anyway.”

The others seemed to be processing what he had just said, though Allen continued before anybody could respond.

“The Spades can help us though, and thanks to Andy, I know where to find them,” Allen said.

“Huh, how?” Camila asked. “I doubt they’re base or whatever is around here.”

“The Wandering Gate,” Amelia began, “Knowing its location was your wish. That’s the Spades’ base, and it has to be near here, right?”

Allen smirked. “Yes and no,” he began. “The Wandering Gate functions as our base, but it is also a dungeon. It exists everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and it can’t simply be found like any normal place. It’s not anywhere near here right now.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense, Allen,” Camila complained. “What kind of dungeon is that? I know my dungeons; they all follow the rules.”

“There are four dungeon types: Normal, Natural, Structured, and Claimed, right?”

“Yes.”

“Wrong,” Allen interjected. “There’s a fifth, the Irregular type.”

“Never heard of that type,” Camila replied, looking upset.

“That doesn’t matter,” Amelia said, “How do we get to it if it’s not here, Allen?”

“Yes, the Wandering Gate is an extremely high-level Irregular dungeon. It has thousands of entrances scattered around the world, and on midnight during a full moon, its entrances change. Tonight, a new random amount of entrances will appear in random locations. Hopefully one will be nearby.”

The group became quiet for another few seconds as the thought of the Wandering Gate turned in their minds. Ty had removed himself from the conversation, but he was still clearly thinking to himself. Camila only seemed interested in the idea of a new dungeon type.

“And what if nothing shows up nearby?” Amelia finally said.

Allen sighed to himself and took a deep breath. “Then we’ll have no choice but to abandon these slaves somewhere.”