"Transmigrator, wake up." the familiar rasp nags me back to consciousness.

With a start, I open my eyes that had been crusted over with a thin red film. My vision is blurry and it causes my head to hurt whenever I try to focus on anything in particular, but I can tell that I have been buried under the building that I was fighting in. The rubble created from the assorted detrius of plaster, concrete, brick and steel forms a snug cocoon around me, enshrouding my prone form. My body lies on the uneven ground with the clothing in tatters. All my equipment is gone.

Groaning, I try to pick myself back up into a seating position, but quickly realize that I don't have any feeling from my body at all. My body remains completely unresponsive no matter how I try to move. There isn't even a feeling of numbness. More like there is absolutely nothing there. Shit. Did that Chance woman paralyze me? I try to speak, but my throat is completely dry to the point where my lips have begun to crack. My tongue feels like sandpaper.

"Can't move." I manage to rattle from my rusty throat.

"Do not force yourself." The Voice says, sounding weak and spent, "The stress you had accrued had reached a critical level and I only managed to separate you from Master Chance at the last moment. If the fight had continued any further, Mr Gallant's body would have exploded, ending your life."

Wow. Things must have gotten really hardcore when I passed out from the pain of being incinerated. Gallant must have taken over the fight from that point. "Don't remember anything from the point I was getting burned alive." I grumble.

The Voice rumbles softly, "I figured as much. After Master Chance unleashed her inheritance against you, you stopped responding to all my communications, as if you could not hear me. You also began casting magic freely again. I concluded that you had lost control of the body to Mr Gallant and decided to intervene directly before Mr Gallant did something he could not take back."

Inheritance? What's that? Still, I better get my bearings first before asking more about that Chance person.

"You can do that? Intervene directly? Why do you need me then?" I ask.

"It was only thanks to you." The Voice explains, "You had introduced a sufficient amount of instability into the route, causing matters to spiral out of Fate's control. That gave me the opening to unleash my power directly against Master Chance."

"So, we won then? No more bad end for us?" I ask hopefully as the feeling of pins and needles begins to spread throughout my body. The Voice is silent at my question. That's not good.

It finally responds, "Unfortunately no. Fate had also decided to step in and the two of us were deadlocked. Our struggle badly damaged this facility and I took the opportunity to collapse the floor, allowing Mr Gallant to retreat. I then dropped the building on Master Chance, but she survived the impact."

Yeah. Things got incredibly hardcore there. The Voice continues, "Once the dust settled, Mr Gallant's sister and Archmage Naiberg retrieved both the codex and Master Chance. So to answer your question, no, we at best managed a draw in the battle several nights ago."

"Several nights ago? I was out that long?" I croak, "Actually never mind that. Are you telling me that after all that fighting, we are still doomed? How in the world is that a draw?"

The Voice replies consolingly, "Yes and no. While we have not managed to divert destiny's course, our efforts have put the final conclusion of the alternate route into abeyance. With the destruction of this facility, Fate does not have the means of weaponizing the codex against me. It will take Fate a substantial amount of time to rebuild what has been lost here. Until then, the clock has stopped, so to speak."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I breathe a sigh of relief. But before I can say anything further, The Voice cuts in, "Make no mistake though, this is a reprieve, nothing more. We have bought ourselves more time to deal with this problem, but it will resurface again later."

I grunt in acknowledgement. Honestly, after all that has happened, I am willing to take this outcome as a win for us. I doubt either of us would have managed anything better under the circumstances. Feeling begins to return to my legs. I will probably be able to move my body soon in a few more minutes.

"So what's the deal with burying me in the rubble? Couldn't you have arranged for me to be dug out?" I query, feeling slightly more energetic now.

The Voice rasps back, slightly annoyed, "It was because of me that you were not discovered. This allowed me to work on the body undisturbed. The rubble was used to protect and hide Mr Gallant's body from the rescue team's interference. I had also sabotaged their equipment to prevent them from finding you. Mr Gallant's body was literally spraying blood everywhere during the last moments of the fight. Try guessing what would happen if the rescuers tried moving the body."

Ouch. As feeling returns to my left arm, I gingerly trace a finger along the scars on the body. The Voice is right, I feel crusted blood lining the cracks of the scars. The last moments of the fight must have been really ugly for Gallant to have pushed the body so far.

"The other reason why I hid your body was because Mr Gallant had been recognized by his sister during the fight and she duly began making a fuss once the rescue team arrived." The Voice continues, "While that might not have been a problem by itself, her positive identification of you allowed SOPO to connect Mr Gallant to both the warehouse and highway attacks as well as Trietel's murder. If you were picked up by the rescue team, you would quickly find yourself imprisoned in a guarded hospital ward, completely at Fate's mercy."

"How did SOPO identify me?" I protest, "I thought you had scrubbed all the sites where I was active?"

The Voice sighs, "I did clean up all the sites you were at, including this one. Ironically that was what allowed SOPO to link all the cases together. None of the sites had evidence of Mr Gallant using magic, including this one. Unfortunately, his sister in her statement to SOPO proudly stated that Mr Gallant had been unleashing war mage level magic in his fight against Master Chance. While seeing her faith in her brother being so publicly vindicated is touching, it has just caused more problems for us. SOPO saw the link between a clean crime scene and someone nevertheless using magic there. I had also hoped that by keeping you hidden SOPO would declare Mr Gallant dead, but the fuss Mr Gallant's sister has raised convinced them that he may have survived."

With some effort, I finally manage to get into a sitting position and begin to flex my stiff muscles. Everything is sore. The most worrying part though, is my right arm. Its completely dead. It hangs from my shoulder lifeless and inert, regardless of what I do. The Voice notes my alarm and explains, "I have repaired what I could, but your right arm suffered a truly catastrophic level of damage. Only time will heal what has been lost."

The cocoon of rubble cracks open and I find a long passageway formed out of detritus leading upwards. Taking this as my cue to get moving again, I pick myself up and begin my trek. As I start putting one foot in front of the other, I ask, "I suppose going back to the apartment at the campus is out of the question? Are we returning to the sarcophagus then?"

"No." The Voice says, "The corpses of Fate's lackeys were discovered on the platform and the police have begun to investigate. While returning to the hub is certainly a safe, tempting move, it is more likely an inducement laid by Fate to trap us with. Your freedom of movement would be badly compromised, as every time you tried to sally forth, you would need to avoid police patrols or scrutiny at the inclinators. Eventually our base would become a prison, trapping you within and allowing Fate a free hand."

With a grunt, I push aside a wall made out of collapsed masonry and find myself back at the reception area of the lab, or what is left of it. The place is completely barren save for debris and solidified pools of slag that had been mixed with ash. Not a soul is in sight. The rescue team must have left a while ago. The wall dividing the reception area from the corridor leading to the entrance had also collapsed. In fact, the entrance itself has collapsed into an unrecognizable heap, giving me a clear view of the lab's parking lot.

And there, to no one's surprise is the black cab, waiting for me. "So where are we going then?" I ask.

The Voice replies, "The Six Trees District, or as it is known now, the Six Trees Interim Administration Zone."

I pull at the passenger door of the cab but find that it is locked. That's odd. I swear that I heard an unlocking sound just now. I check each of the doors, but the result is the same, they are all locked. What gives?

With a creak, the boot yawns open.

The Voice in obvious amusement pronounces, "Get in."