“Rrgh.”

Zachary hefted the motionless, mostly naked body of Kris the night guard into his former holding pod, scooping the man’s legs over the raised edge. The tablet hadn’t exactly provided him with a command for bumping up the Life Model’s strength parameters – he’d checked – so it had been a hassle to carry the two hundred or so pounds of unconscious adult male all the way from the lobby, back the way he came.

As for the current nude state of the poor man, Zachary had earlier liberated the guard of his attire because… well, he needed something to wear other than a backless hospital gown.

He did leave Kris his tighty-whities – for some semblance of dignity.

As the pod sealed shut with a hiss of pressurised air, glugs of clear bluish liquid beginning to pool within, Zachary slid down beside it to catch his breath – and to think on what to do next. His initial expectations had been rudely shaken with the sight of a single photograph. A mistaken assumption that of course the shard of power stolen from him would have to present in inanimate form.

He blamed it on excessive movie consumption – it was obvious that not every artefact of great power would necessarily be buried in a forgotten Mayan temple or hidden in an ancient shipwreck.

Sometimes, in the reality existing outside of movies – more often than not, in fact – some random… guy stumbles onto it before the protagonist.

And this guy was 100% using his Mask; that was something that had become readily apparent to Zachary. Flaunting it too, by the looks of it. Setting up a whole company, utilising their newfound abilities all willy-nilly, introducing new technology and profiting off of it – as if they didn’t think that the rightful owner would come looking.

Well, Gordon Higgins. The rightful owner has arrived. Arrived to rid you of that foolish notion. Best get ready for the biggest ass-whooping of your life.

Zachary brought the guard’s palm-sized tablet up once more, waking the device from sleep mode and deftly entering the four digits to unlock it. He’d worried about the passcode at the start, desperately trying to keep the screen from turning off with one hand while attempting to yank the guard’s uniform pants off him with the other. But after taking inventory of his newly acquired belongings, the otherworlder had discovered a non-descript scrap of crumpled paper on which was written exactly the code which he required – along with large capital words stating IMPORTANT, DO NOT FORGET THIS.

Zachary had smirked upon seeing it.

Ah, so much for operational security. The rank and file so often disregard that in favour of convenience. Although in this particular case, the tablet probably lets him in and out of the building – if he were to forget the code, he’d be rightly screwed. Stuck in here till the morning shift people clock in.

He brought up the company’s about page and went straight back to the owner’s bio. He’d been so shell-shocked at the sight of the Masquerade Mask, he hadn’t finished digesting the bulk of what was written there.

Specifically, the section on where the abode of this thief was currently located.

Ah, here it is. Gordon Higgins, visionary and genius inventor, creator of the Life Model technology used in industries all over the world… blah, blah, blah, lives on 58 Wopper Avenue in a two-story apartment. Huh. That’s rather frugal of him; you’d think someone as rich as he is now would live in a flashier place. Some mega mansion on a secluded island.

Now, how do I get there?

Zachary closed the company page and tapped on the symbol of a map in the tablet’s home page. The tablet’s map application quickly initialised, a prompt window showing up soon after asking for the desired query to be entered.

Wopper… Avenue…

As it turned out, the creator’s home was a mere five blocks away – within spitting distance of the Better Life complex he was in.

A stroke of luck, finally!

Or… a more likely explanation would be that the System recognised two identical essence signatures existing in the same world, and stuck me as close to the source as possible. Data cohesiveness and string matching. Meh, not going to complain about it; close is close. The faster I retrieve this Mask, the faster I can get on with locating the next.

Which then brought up another question – probably the most important one, actually.

Which Mask was this?

“It’s not Philosopher,” Zachary muttered. “This isn’t his style. He’s more behind-the-scenes, persuading others to do his dirty work, internal politics – that kind of thing. It’s not Builder; he works more with robotics, tech; machinery. It’s definitely one of the clever ones; that much is clear. One of the scientific ones. But which one?”

He rubbed his bald grey scalp with his palm in frustration. This was the problem with having led hundreds of different lives, all compartmentalised and kept mostly separate from one another. He could remember bits and pieces, glimpses of things that they might have done, scraps of information about their skills; but they would all merge and blur together at some point.

There were dozens of times that Zachary had switched into a physical focused Mask to utilise one of the skills it held, only to realise that it was another similar, but slightly different Mask that he needed to recall.

Those instances drove him mental.

It was also why, around Mask number one hundred or so, Zachary had made himself an ironclad rule.

For every life cycle from that moment on that he partook in, he had to ensure that it was distinct. Clear demarcations from previous lives; feats that he’d done before he’d make sure not to repeat. This would make remembering exactly which Mask corresponded to each life cycle easier; thereby allowing him to switch to the correct Mask for whatever time-sensitive or fiddly problem that he faced in the current one.

But the rule hadn’t been in place yet when this Mask was made.

Gaah… which was the one with the clone bodies, again? It was early days for me; still finding my footing. Wasn’t Mystic, was it? No, those were magic stuff with ghosts and whatnot… tech, tech, which one was bio-tech?

Zachary stood up with a start, shaking away the muddle of guesses he was becoming slowly mired in.

Screw it, he’d play it by ear!

Can’t be helped if I can’t remember what I can’t remember. He’s one of the smart ones, anyways. Means he’s not physically inclined. It’ll be a cinch to overpower him by surprise, especially if he doesn’t expect me to come to him. Just need to hold him down and carry out the plan.

“Profile Swap.”

Zachary felt a slight discomfort as his Life Model form compressed down slightly to a more human proportion, spots of pinkish beige growing and spreading to encompass the grey flesh as strands of hair sprouted from the top of his head. The Life Model Mask was a hundred times more versatile, to be sure.

The Beastkin form, on the other hand, wouldn’t draw any attention.

“Alright then,” Zachary murmured. “Time to see who this Gordon Higgins really is.”

~

After leaving Better Life Inc and two minutes of jumping from shadow to shadow, Zachary eventually found himself on the doorstep of 58 Wopper Avenue.

It wasn’t exactly hard to find; the target’s house was far and beyond the most lavishly renovated building on the block. A façade of pure white that must be hell to keep spotless, recessed lights in the ground provided a warm glow that illuminated the exterior of the house and the pathway leading to the front step, with even the lawn being impeccably maintained, with a soft carpet of even grass blanketing the ground.

And yet – no over-the-top security system.

No hired mercenaries or trained hounds.

Just a simple artisan-crafted teak door, and a doorbell to the side.

Strange, Zachary thought. Doesn’t he worry about burglars and such? Seems a little lackadaisical to spend so much on exterior design and nothing on protecting it. Could be one of the eccentricities of the rich. Perhaps he wants to feel close to his roots. Oh well, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He stabbed at the doorbell, the button producing a pleasant chirp in response.

The light on the second floor flickered on behind drawn curtains, presumably due to the occupant being awoken by the sound of the door buzzer. It was the dead of night; everyone would be sleeping at this time. Zachary didn’t mind. He patiently waited. Well, less 'waited', and more that he was mostly thinking of inventive ways of inflicting grievous harm on the thief of his Mask.

Finally, the door swung open, a figure answering the late night visit with a yawn.

“Oh; what do you people want now? It’s in the middle of the night; can’t it wait till morning?”

Zachary stared wide-eyed at him.

For even though Gordon Higgins was wearing a pair of striped pyjamas, he had taken the time to put on his signature golden Mask.

Is this some sort of a joke?! That’s mine!

Without a word, Zachary lunged in anger at the usurper of his power, sending the two of them tumbling into the living room.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

This hadn’t really been the plan the otherworlder had come here to carry out. But at the sight of his Mask sitting on someone else’s face – somebody that hadn’t earned that power, someone that had stolen his power, Zachary simply saw red and lashed out without thinking.

“Ow! What was that for?! Are you trying to kill me or something?!”

A pained exclamation came from Gordon, who rubbed his shoulder where it had been slammed against the ground. He’d scurried towards the back of the spacious living room after the impact, now addressing Zachary from a small distance. From his point of view, he’d been rudely awoken, then immediately assaulted by some insane person dressed in what looked to be a Better Life Inc uniform. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that this was a disgruntled employee making an attempt at his life.

Which naturally, was ridiculous.

He paid his employees extremely well.

Zachary didn’t answer the question; he simply got back up on his feet, and held his right hand out, palm up.

“Mask Generation.”

And with that, all was clear.

Gordon’s confused expression shifted to one of amusement as a familiar golden mask materialised on the intruder’s hand, and he placed his Mask back in its rightful place. The two masked individuals stared each other down, one with a wide grin over his face, and the other with a solemn gaze.

“Oh,” Gordon said. “It’s you, isn’t it? I don’t quite remember all my memories, but – you used to have this power, right? This Mask?”

“Give it back.”

Gordon laughed. “Even if I wanted to – I wouldn’t know how! And I don’t want to, either. What are you going to do, beat the power out of me? That’s not how it works!”

Zachary started to walk slowly towards his target.

“Do you know what the skill Profile Swap does?”

“Beats me; it’s just one of those defective skills, isn’t it?” Gordon scoffed. “I hadn’t received that part of the Mask’s memories, I’m afraid. And I have tried to use it; it just doesn’t do anything. Anything that I can readily observe, that is.”

“Let me give you a quick lecture on the skill, then.” Zachary said, his strides unceasing as he made his way closer towards Gordon.

“Profile Swap is a Skill that directly interacts with the System itself. It doesn’t use MP, there aren’t any pesky conditions that you have to fulfil, there aren’t any time costs; nothing at all like an ordinary Skill. You could even call it a cheat Skill – something absurdly overpowered that trumps every other that exists in this reality. Not that people in this world know about Skills, or I’d have faced a lot more resistance than I did getting here. I suppose there is one condition, though. You would need to have data saved of another life, stored in inaccessible System memory.”

Sensing something amiss, Gordon unconsciously took a few steps back. He fired back with an unconcerned quip, trying to mask his growing unease.

“Oh…kay? So I have a Skill that does something entirely useless; big deal! So what?”

“Oh, you won’t be able to use it.” Zachary replied coldly. “You haven’t done the legwork. Whatever abilities you have right now are not your own; it is data that originates from me. And as long as there is tangible contact, the System should quickly identify the rightful owner of the disputed information and correct any discrepancy it discovers. So what happens…”

Zachary stopped short, inches away from Gordon who was now looking back with a hint of apprehension.

With a swift motion, he grabbed Gordon’s wrist with his right hand, ignoring the middle-aged man’s attempts to shake free.

“… if I do this?! Profile Swap!”

Zachary closed his eyes, waiting to be reunited with his Mask.

At long last, he had taken the first step on… his… journey…?

He flung them open again, this time staring in confusion at Gordon, whose playful smirk had returned to his face.

“Oh,” the masked man chuckled. “You really had me worried there a moment. The way you were explaining it made me sweat a little. Gave me a couple of goosebumps. Almost thought it might actually work.”

“… but how?” Zachary whispered in utter disbelief. He was certain that this was the right answer! Profile Swap worked on the basis of transferring stored data to the active user!

This should have stripped the thief of every shred of his Mask, and returned it to him in turn!

“And the right answer…” Gordon spoke with childlike glee.

“… is this! Turquoise Centipede!”

Out of the usurper’s back grew two extra appendages, elongated arms which wrapped their hands around Zachary’s wrists and firmly pinned him against the wall. Zachary looked down in dumb shock at the grey flesh which comprised the arms.

Realisation slowly dawned on him.

“You… you weren’t even here in the first place. This… was a trap from the very beginning.”

Gordon’s Life Model giggled as tanned skin darkened into light grey, his face shifting back into the generic default template.

“For someone with such command over, what did you call it – the System? You really are dense.” Gordon gloated. “Did you really think that I’d just… broadcast where I’m living at, for the whole wide world to see? You do know how rich I’ve become, right? If it wasn’t you, there’d be any number of greedy peasants aiming to relieve me of my newfound wealth!”

“So I devised a honeytrap; a big neon sign shouting, look at me! Come rob me! And in the meantime, the real me gets to live in peace. Gets to do the important work. Lay the groundwork for my devilish plan. All it takes is a measly neural connection once in a while when I get alerted to visitors, and no one’s any the wiser to the fact that I’m not even here!”

Zachary strained against the two hands gripping onto him.

“These won’t hold me for long. I’ll get free eventually, and then I’m coming for you.”

Gordon chuckled.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, Mr Smarty-Pants. Which is why I’m beginning my master plan prematurely – in other words; right away! Can’t talk now, bit busy; have fun being strung up like Christmas lights! See ya!”

With his last gleeful exclamation, Gordon’s Life Model stiffened up, the light leaving its eyes as the pilot severed its telepathic connection with the clone host. Zachary tried again to get free, wriggling his hands to no avail. It seemed that this particular Life Model didn’t go limp like all the other mass production models which hovered in the gel suspension of their chambers. Its limbs instead hardened almost immediately to rock, in a pseudo-rigor mortis.

“Damn it.” Zachary cursed. “Profile Swap.”

He shifted back into his Life Model form, the malleable flesh of this body allowing him to easily slip free from the flesh handcuffs that had been locked around his arms.

Orange Swordfish.

Zachary’s right hand melded together into a single bladed implement, and he went to work, systematically dissecting the empty husk of Gordon’s Life Model. This wasn’t just because Zachary wanted to desecrate something that the thief owned – although it did feel good to carve into the solid flesh and imagining it as being the actual Gordon.

Gordon had mentioned something about a neural connection, hadn’t he? Meaning that there would have to be a receiver somewhere here within the body of the clone to communicate with the transmitter.

Gotcha, Zachary thought, plucking a pebble sized ball from the torso’s sternum. The embedded diodes on the metal sphere blinked intermittently, attempting to re-connect with Gordon’s last location. Whatever this thing connects to should lead me right to the bastard. This house itself might be a decoy, but there’s no way someone like him hasn’t prepared contingencies and redundancies. For example, if the Life Model breaks down and he’s not on site to repair it, surely there has to be some interfacing device to dock with it and perform rudimentary fixes. Therefore, there has to be some way here for me to ping his last location.

A little rummaging about on floor two produced what Zachary was looking for; a disk-shaped module hidden behind a false bottom of the bedside drawer. The device had a convenient slot for the ball he had surgically removed to connect to, and with a few button clicks, Zachary now knew where Gordon’s lair was, courtesy of a ‘last transmission’ information readout.

It was an underground facility, far below his spawn point in the Better Life building he had initially woken up in.

I guess I was right; the System did put me as close as possible to the duplicate essence value.

“Profile Swap.”

As Zachary shifted back into his Beastkin form in preparation for the short trip back to confront his foe, something nagged at him.

… would Gordon slip up like that? Reveal his position that haphazardly? He’d thrown in the line about the neural connection almost carelessly; like he was trying to induce a particular action from Zachary.

As if he was luring him into another trap.

Even if it is another trap, I still have to go. Zachary thought bitterly. It’s my only lead on him; I can’t give it up just because it could be another lie. In other words… this is a battle of wits. A mental fistfight to see who comes out on top.

With grim determination, Zachary set out towards the site of his last showdown with Gordon Higgins.

A showdown that he was planning to win.