I share an uncertain look with Fleur and Noland. They don’t return it.

“What the hell did I miss?”

Noland gestures broadly at the group. “All of that. It looks like Gasp took control of them again, and Gisela’s doing whatever she’s about to do with that information. Along with Ava, for some reason. They hit it off right away.”

“The air is heavy with salt.” Fleur adds. “I am not sure if they wish to take advantage of the state the guests find themselves in or if they wish to ‘save’ them. Personally, I think the first option is far more likely.”

“So do I.” Noland agrees. “Let’s get moving and see what happens. We are still Gisela’s bodyguards for now, after all. But depending on what she tries to do here… well, we’ve got a written agreement. I’m not over ripping up a few pieces of paper and breaking some promises.”

I shudder at the calmly brutal undertones in his voice as we all start walking with the group. It only takes a second to catch up, and when we do, nobody even turns to look at us. They’re all hyper fixated on Gisela, Ava, and Gasp.

One of them brushes against my shoulder–an old woman in a pencil skirt and a suit jacket–and makes a noise deep in her throat that sounds like disdain. I sneer and hold back the desire to break a few of her fingers, but after she makes the noise, she goes right back to ignoring me. That’s gotta be important. And it requires some additional testing.

I lean over and smack a bald guy on the back of his head. He grunts in pain, but beyond that, nothing. So I smack him a little harder–just enough that his neck bends forward and his chin almost touches his chest. That gets a yelp of surprise and a single flailing arm in my direction, complete with a look of surprise and disbelief.

A look that lasts for all of half a second before the guy’s eyes go dull and he falls once more under Gasp’s magic. Alright, there’s definitely something off here. These guys are one step away from beating each other into a bloody pulp–even the pulled punches are harder than what I just did–but they’re not snapping out of it. If anything, they’re self-sustaining the magic.

But one positive does not a study make. So I go around, dodging stray fists and slinking around whipping shoulders while backstepping to avoid wide kicks with a mediocre amount of power behind them. As I dodge through the crowd, I barely touch each and every one I pass by. Some react instantly–jumping like they just felt a spider crawling on them or making varied noises ranging from angry to apologetic.

Others, like the bald guy, need much more prodding to get to react. I twist arms, kick the backs of knees, flick ears, and one woman wouldn’t even react when I stomped on her foot with all my might. That one was a little too much, and with a wince as she hobbled away, I made a mental note to pay her medical bills after the fact.

When I finally make it through the first crowd, Noland grabs my shoulder to get my attention. I turn to him as he lifts an eyebrow and motions at the fresh black eye I gave to some woman in the smallest dress I’ve ever seen. Which has somehow managed to not only stay on, but still covers everything she’d want covered.

“I was testing a theory. No matter how hard they’re hitting each other, they don’t snap out of Gasp’s control.” I jog forward as a fist swings right next to my head and smacks a short guy in the shoulder. “Just like that. But when I just brushed against an old woman, she reacted like she normally would. Like she wasn’t affected by Gasp at all, but also doesn’t know she’s in the middle of a fistfight.”

Noland frowns. “Does that make it alright to smack these people around?”

I shrug. “No idea.”

“No, I mean, did you get any concrete proof of this?” He turns and stares a hole through the back of a guy whose toupee is hanging off the back of his bald spot. “Because I would absolutely love to gather a little more data for you.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna stop you from smacking some billionaires and politicians in the back of the head. Hell, knowing what you know, it’ll probably be some great catharsis–Noland?” I pause and turn as he rushes into the crowd with maniacal glee. A few new, heavier impacts join the chorus of violence, and I can’t help but laugh. “Looks like he’s still got some hatred bottled up inside. Good for him for not turning it into more full-blown murder.”

Fleur comes up beside me, two of her floating arms hovering protectively near my shoulders. “Does that mean you are going to attempt to stop him?”

I snort out another laugh. “Hell no. They won’t notice another few bruises and welts when Gasp lets go of them. Let’s just get up to the stage and see what the hell they’re planning.”

With Fleur at my side, I weave through the rest of the crowd and make my way to the front. It only takes a minute, but when I break free of them, Gisela and the other two are much further ahead than I thought. Ava’s helping Gisela onto the stage, with Gasp already quietly standing at attention next to a microphone that doesn’t look like it’s plugged into anything.

All the seemingly ex-Preservation woman’s energy is gone. Her posture is tight, hands held behind her back, and her visor looks out over the crowd without an inch of movement. Even though I should hate her for what she was trying to start, I can’t help but feel a little pity for her. I’ll reserve true judgment until I have the intel to tell me how much of the Preservation’s propaganda she ate up, or how much she helped write it.

Gisela brushes off her dress, turns on her heel, and instantly notices me and Fleur standing feet away from the stage. Her face lights up, and she offers me a wry grin as she flicks her fingers to get us to back up.

“It’ll all be obvious in a minute. Can you give me that much?”

I cross my arms and frown. “You’re asking for a lot of trust, Gisela. Especially with those two–do they even know who you actually are?”

Much to my surprise, she nods. “They do. Well, more accurately, they know who wasn’t me a few minutes ago. Two women betrayed by their own organizations, though for Ava, it’s more like…”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I tried to change a little. Though they were, too.” She shrugs, but I can see the hurt in her eyes as she chuckles wistfully. “Not that I expect you to believe me–you watched me vaporize a random guy and kill Taka. Can you pass the message on to Ursula that I’ve got some things I need to do before we fight?”

“Do it yourself.”

A small, hopeful smile barely graces Ava’s lips. “I hope I can. Maybe we can reschedule for… a long time from now.”

That sounds like it’s got way more history behind it than I’m willing to try and unpack in a minute. But it looks like whatever Gisela said to Ava has got her squarely on her side. Question is; does the same go for Gasp?

I turn to the masked woman and lift my chin at her. “How about you? Are changes of hearts contagious now?”

Gasp shakes her head as her entire body shudders. She sucks in a sharp breath and snaps both of her hands to her neck, panic and tremors wracking her body from the simple movement. It takes a few seconds for her to seem to realize that her head is, indeed, still connected to her body.

The half-laugh, half sob of relief physically hurts to hear. “I thought we were doing good. But… they… I saw a simple room. Something left me a note inside a ring. There was a… a… countdown to returning my… corpse.”

That sounds… oh. It’s what I saw when Illumisia and Pearl brought me back from the dead. The room, the note, the countdown… I know it all too well. But I died cold and confused. Gasp died violently and suddenly, betrayed by the people she probably trusted the most. In terms of deaths, hers was definitely more traumatizing than mine.

“I get it.” I say with a small, comforting smile. “It just goes to show what the Preservation is actually willing to do, doesn’t it?”

Gasp nods. It isn’t a small one, or a motion to get me to stop; it’s serious and full of weight that words could never convey. If I could see her eyes, I’m sure they’d either be empty or full of tears. Maybe both. A stray thought makes me wonder if I’d be this confident without Noland here.

No way in hell. But I guess it goes to show how you can afford to be way more merciful when you’ve got absolute power backing you. Which makes it even worse that HuSt and the Preservation are merciless.

“Alright. Do whatever you’re going to do.” I step up to the stage as Ava jumps up onto it. “Just remember that we’re here.”

For some reason, that seems to… bring relief to Gisela. I’d meant it as a cryptic warning. Is this a good sign? Sharing a look with Fleur, who shrugs countless times over, doesn’t bring me to an answer. So we back away to make room for the crowd that’s filling out the space before the stage like a bunch of rowdy moshers. Noand breaks away, dusting reddened hands off on his suit with a satisfied expression.

“No blood?” I note as he adjusts his tie. “How’d you manage that?”

“You’d be surprised how good it feels to slap someone you hate in the face. Multiply that by a hundred times, and you’ve got one satisfied me.” He laughs, then nods at the stage. “I didn’t catch your talk with Gisela. You’re letting them go on with whatever they’re planning?”

I nod. “If I was on my own, I definitely wouldn’t. But I’ve got you and Fleur here to help stop them if they start spouting egregious shit–might as well give them the benefit of the doubt until it benefits us to doubt them.”

“Sure; whatever you say. I didn’t give you this much decision making power because you’re weak.” Noland pats me on the shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll get used to being important soon enough. Hell, you’re taking to it much better than March did; she still doesn’t really like the power she knows she holds over the world. But she knows how important her work is, so we try not to put too much Pressure on her.”

“Seems like it’s working so far.”

Noland chuckles and smiles. “I’d say that’s an understatement. Just so you know, if you ever want out of these kinds of missions, just say the word.”

“Not planning on it any time soon, but thanks for the offer.”

Fleur taps me on the shoulder with one connected arm and points at the stage with the other. “It is beginning.”

I follow her finger to the stage, where Gisela stands at the microphone with Gasp and Ava to either side of her like bodyguards. A shiver runs down my spine at the visual, and I get the feeling that something big is about to happen. My eyes meet Gisela’s for a second, and all she does is smile the same way as before.

“Gasp, release them from the magic.” She says as she leans into the microphone. “And put down a calming kind of effect, please. Not enough that they’ll notice, but just enough that they won’t start running and screaming.”

“Yes, of course.” Gasp nods, and two overlaid waves of magic wash over me. “It’s done.”

The crowd slowly stops beating on each other, and devolves into a chorus of confused murmurs. People look down at their hands, wince at wounds they just realized that they had, and generally question what they were doing and why they were at the concert venue. I wonder what their last concrete memory was from before Gasp started manipulating them.

Gisela taps the microphone, and a squeal of interference draws all the attention to her. She smiles pleasantly yet venomously, like a business woman looking down on a pit of potential clients and enemies. Which… I guess she is. And they are.

“Most of you are probably confused about what the hell happened to you. There is one simple answer for this; the Preservation and HuSt betrayed all of you. Though, for some of you, that holds a… different meaning.” She lazily glances down at Matt, who shrinks away like he’d just been bit. But it’s not just him–dozens of others flinch just the same. Including one of her friends. “The Preservation doesn’t want to take power through force; they want it to be given to them, mandate and all, so they can rule however they please. Today, they would have succeeded. Except for one small detail.”

She turns and gestures at us. More specifically, at me. And the unease in my stomach rolls into overdrive with the strange look in her eyes.

“The resort saved my life once. Now, it has saved all of our lives. Maybe not in the immediate sense, but if the Preservation had not been stopped, it would have eventually spelled all of our demises. Which is why…”

Gisela reaches into her purse. When she pulls her hand out, two coins glitter between her fingers; Defender and Fortress. I clench my jaw and try to keep calm as everything I’d imagined rearranges itself before my very eyes.

“Garza Industrial will, effective immediately, ally itself with the resort. If you wish the world to remain free, prosperous, and safe, I urge you to do the same. Because anyone who wages war without the courage to pick up a weapon and fight for their own causes…” Her expression turns deadly as she scans the crowd. “Will die in this new reality. I implore all of you to adjust your worldview and accept this truth.”

The defender coin glimmers in her hand. She reaches forward as a pillar erupts from the stage, curled and gnarled like an ancient tree made from iron. Noland grunts as he realizes what’s going on, and before I can do anything about it, Gisela sticks the Defender coin into the pillar.

A bright flash of light accompanies it. The pillar shifts–all the twists and turns straighten themselves out, and as Gisela slots in the Fortress coin, an eruption of magic and fanfare blares through all of reality.

Truth added: Class Perfection coins.