There was a saying about being careful what you wished for. While Cal had wished to frame a dead man for a crime, he'd also wished to avoid fighting Lily's fiancé.

And yet, here he was, staring down one of the Fingers.

"Our old client?" Cassey was the first to respond to the allegation. Her voice was deeper than before but didn't hide her feminine tone. "Boss got tired of his yapping and did him in."

As expected of a Federation agent working behind enemy lines, Cassey had already adapted to the new reality and was set to work implementing Operation: 'Frame Him for What He Did.'

Cal was having a surprisingly difficult time coming to grips with the situation himself.

"How naughty." Despite the playfulness of her words, Miss Plusier's voice sounded ice cold. "Don't you know? We spiders are hypocritical things and don't enjoy being tangled in the webs of others." A laugh, eerie yet melodic, cut through the warehouse. "Or did you truly think I would willingly stand aside while you used my name to lure in my dear colleague? A pity, your mother will be so disappointed."

He couldn't discern whether the tinge of sadness at the end was sincere or not, but Alice bristled at it all the same. Her eyes narrowed, and while her weapon remained holstered, Cal could feel the magic from her well up for a moment.

"I meant no offense," she said through gritted teeth. "And I'm willing to compensate you should you see fit."

Miss Plusier twirled her needle, while several others in her bun vibrated in place, as if eager to taste something more than just cloth and hair.

"Such a debt is discussed before, not after. No, I'm afraid you've all forced my hand on this occasion."

Cal wouldn't stop her from extracting her pound flesh, but if she tried to go any further, she'd find him blocking her path.

"I don't want to cause you any trouble," William raised a placating hand. "There isn't any need for violence here. Thus far, we've overlooked your presence in the city, and I'd hate for this to be the event that breaks that unspoken truce."

While the words suggested a threat, the manner in which he conveyed them said he was genuinely apologetic for putting her in this situation.

"Yeah," Lily supported, her upbeat voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "He's not worth fighting a Finger over. We can pretend you were never here to begin with; whatever we say goes after all."

That sounded oddly familiar, and Cal realized Alice had used a similar wording in the club room. How long had they been planning this? More importantly, why had neither of them decided to involve him in it? The frustration and anger he'd quelled during the day began to bubble up. Cal forced it down.

Positives, focus on the positives he reminded himself.

They weren't stupid enough to try and hire the city's favorite mascot/assassin, so that was a plus. Anne was also safe now, although he wondered if she were ever truly in danger. And despite the dangerous scenario they inserted themselves in, they'd brought a hammer. Not the one he would have chosen, that being himself, but if what he was reading from the man was right, it wasn't a bad one. Then there was also the group forming a perimeter. He wasn't sure he was supposed to know about them.

This wasn't a careless confrontation; they'd taken precautions before galavanting into the night.

"Hmm." The Spider's fingers went up to her hair bun, withdrawing a handful of needles. The bun loosened, threatening to collapse altogether. Her eyes glanced between both groups before a smile blossomed on her face. "I think not."

Her denial struck a chord among them, and he could see Lily step forward, putting herself in between the assassin and Alice.

"I was hoping we could all come to an agreement." William drew a hatchet in one hand and a curved knife in the other. "However, if you do not step aside, my hand will be forced."

The Myriad's magic flared, and everyone but Cal and Miss Plusier flinched. It appeared like a raging bonfire to his senses, overshadowing everything in the vicinity and making it difficult for Cal to track the ones outside.

Miss Plusier did not match the pointless display. She raised a closed fist with needles protruding out from her knuckles to her mouth, yawning for all to see. She finished the prolonged action and then spoke at a slow pace.

"Provoking a fight at this hour with an elder of all people? The younger generation truly has no shame." She swung her head, purple and grey locks breaking free and falling to her shoulders. Without the bun's support, the remaining needles clattered to the floor. Everyone present watched them intently, expecting them to shoot out at any moment. They didn't, and she turned to Cal, pointing a needle in William's direction. "Be a dear and teach him some manners for me."

He would have been happy to, but he was afraid she would turn the girls into pincushions the second he turned his back.

"That's one way to go about it," Lily commented, relief in her voice. "But go ahead and justify it however you want."

Cal tuned her out, focusing his attention on Miss Plusier, who must have noticed his reluctance.

"Don't worry about little old me, dearie," she consoled, making a shoeing motion toward him. "Go, have some fun."

At that comment, both girls stole glances at each other, a look of confusion passing between them. William's attention shifted from Miss Pluseir to him, and a frown came over him.

"Boss," Cassey piped up, his lack of action prompting her. "They're wondering why she's acting like you can actually fight that guy."

Huh? Wasn't the Whispering Death guy supposed to be strong? Or was he just strong enough to be an issue for most people while crumbling in the face of someone competent?

Hmmm. It was probably the latter given how easily Cal had killed him.

Well, however this turned out, he should probably gauge how much of a threat this Myriad was.

Time slowed as magic flooded his system, saturating every cell in his body. Faster than it took to blink, he was at the limit of his augmentation. He took the extra split second to make sure not an ounce of magic slipped from his control and then stepped forward.

William's eyes widened as Cal's fist impacted his cheek, sending him flying into the sacks of flour behind him. They exploded on contact with the human projectile, filling the air with their powdery remains.

Cal looked at his right fist, opening and closing it. Contact had been made, but he didn't miss how the man had rolled with the punch, lessening the impact. There was also a lack of blood and crunching sounds, indicating that the man had taken the hit with his shell.

Not weak then.

He was taking time to confirm Miss Plusier wasn't trying anything when his body jerked to the side, a spear passing through where he'd just been standing.

Fast.

Cal swung another fist, aiming for the man's right shoulder. It plowed through the joint, or a crackling yellow version of it at least. It wasn't the man himself; rather, it was a copy of him made out of rolling arcs of electricity. With his hand inside the manifestation, Cal tried to wrestle control of the magic, only to find the man's control too great to overcome. It burst like a balloon, static traveling over his shell and seeking a weak spot for it to enter.

None was found.

"You're stronger than the reports suggest," William spoke, standing less than a dozen meters away. "I see why you've remained at large for so long. However, I'm sorry to say, that ends today."

Lightning coated his body for a moment before it extended, peeling off of him and forming a second William. A third followed, then a fourth.

Their crackling forms were ever-changing. Lightning was a notoriously difficult element to maintain in such a solid form, and Cal found himself impressed that not only did they look roughly like the man, but that each copy wielded a different type of weapon. He could match them up with the originals adorning the man's suit.

Cal sorted his objectives.

Escape with Cassey.

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Make sure Lily and Alice don't end up dead.

Simple enough. Currently, the biggest obstacle to fleeing would be the decent-sized fish in front of him. Even if he just grabbed the girl and ran, the Finger had shown speed enough to give chase. He needed to not be able to do that. A broken leg or two would work nicely, but Cal was open to any form of disablement.

Cal reached for his connection, widening it to more than just a sliver. The magic stored in the void flowed over, bolstering his reserves. He couldn't afford to be cheap here.

"Anyone else feel like they don't belong here?" Cassey spoke, shifting into a stance all the same.

His brief exchange with William had only lasted a heartbeat, so the others had only just begun to react.

He blurred forward, going for the Finger himself. A copy intercepted his front, swinging a mace at his chest. At the same time, another swept a halberd toward his feet. Thinking that must not have been enough, the third one attempted to plunge a great axe into his back.

They were right, of course, as Cal pivoted to the side, avoiding both the halberd and the axe in favor of shoulder-checking the mace wielder. The manifestation exploded like the one previously, his shell being battered by the discharge.

That would get old fast.

The final copy advanced, swinging its glaive and attempting to force him back into the encirclement. Cal didn't feel like playing Whack a Mole. His foot slammed against the ground, a crater forming in his wake as he careened toward the man. Rather than send a double, the man met him head-on, swinging both hatchet and knife. The weapons came at an angle, one striking high and the other low. Cal made to grab both hands, only to find himself grappling with a copy, the man managing to slip away and leave one in his place.

William appeared at his back, swinging both weapons toward him while the manifestation tried to hold him in place. With effort, he finally overpowered it and swung his fist in a wide arc. It went through the copy first, then continued toward his back to hit the original. The fist hit nothing but air behind him, and he was showered with the discharged energy from the copy that had held him. That one hadn't been like the others; it was densely packed and was able to contend against him physically.

Damn.

Cal didn't pause in his assault, delivering a quick jab toward the retreating man who met his fist with the knife. His shell took the blow without complaint, and he brushed the blade aside, reaching out to grab William's wrist again. Another copy took the man's place. It was like he was a snake, shedding his skin at will. He headbutted the copy, the blow violent enough to blow it apart. Cal shifted to the side, avoiding the hatchet that had aimed for his collarbone.

Close enough to smell each other's breath, William threw the knife at him. It sparkled with an electric current, and Cal pivoted to his right to avoid it. Cal was giving a left hook when he had to abort, his legs pushing off the ground and sending him into a pallet of flour sacks. Cal extracted himself quickly, wishing he could blow it all off him with wind.

Wind and sound would be the only manifestations he'd allow himself while donning this shroud. Its former owner was adept in using both of them, which made sense as they were closely related branches of magic. Depending on who you asked, they might have even been the same.

Unfortunately, he was far too close to Alice and Lily to use external magic. He was even being careful not to pump too much into his shell.

Through the powdery haze of flour, he spotted two Williams to his front. The original brought out a hammer to compliment his hatchet, while the copy who had ambushed him wielded the thrown knife. The copy had traveled with the knife.

Another troublesome skill.

He was beginning to see why the others called these guys nuisances.

"Easy!" Lily yelled, batting away a barrage of needles. She stood back to back with Alice, who seemed to struggle to keep up with her portion of the attack. "Aren't you still making our orders for Founder's Day? Don't let that work go to waste!"

Amazingly, the needles paused all at once as the woman seriously considered the dilemma.

All hostile actions ceased as he and William paused to see the spectacle.

"I won't pretend to understand that," the man opposed to him commented for the both of them.

"While crazy hot thinks it over," Cassey said, having transitioned to a more relaxed stance after being given nothing to do. "I want to remind everyone that flour is combustible."

That was a very good call.

Cal glanced around, assessing the destruction they'd caused. Fighting in such a contained space had limited the damage, but several pallets had been toppled, and an untold amount of flour now coated the floor and hung in the air.

Had he been fighting as Callum Ardere, he would have certainly just blown them up. The reminder caused him to turn back to William.

"Apologies for worrying the lady." The Finger addressed the Federation agent. "I assure you, my power ignites only what I wish. And I'm certain my two juniors are the same."

Alice's expression remained unchanged, still focusing on the needles arrayed against her.

As for Lily…

"Ha ha," she laughed hesitantly, rubbing the back of her head and accidentally shaving off part of her hair. "That was a close one. I don't even want to think about what the tombstone would have read."

Cal did. Lily, the flower who died by flour.

Crap, the captain must have been contagious.

"That's nice, children." Miss Plusier spoke airily, clearly not having paid attention to anything that had been said. "I've decided to redo your measurements for those dresses. Now those of us older have trouble seeing in the dark, so please forgive the small pinch or two."

Silvery needles launched in their direction. They were fast, and Cal wasn't sure he'd be able to intercept them in time when they faltered, losing some momentum and direction.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." The assassin clicked her tongue, holding back the scimitar William had switched to. Blade vs. needle, the two parties stood in a contest, neither giving an inch. The ground was the first to give, fissures spreading across the foundation from where they stood. "I thought I told you two to play by the side."

Her words dripped with condescension. She didn't wait for a reply, her scattered needles refocusing and homing in for the man's back. A copy emerged from him, defending his rear while the original traded more blows with the woman. Miss Plusier met them, deflecting each attack with a wretched scrape whenever the metals clashed. The warehouse seemed to tremble at each exchange, and neither combatant appeared to be gaining a decisive advantage.

Cal stood there awkwardly, feeling forgotten about.

"Alright, yeah…fuck this." If her tone was anything to go with, Lily shared his sentiments. "Alie, I'd ask you to close your eyes, but that would be stupid. So sorry in advance. Go ahead and take out any frustration on that stooge. I got this bitch."

Cassey pointed at herself with a tilt of the head, as if asking if she was the bitch or the stooge.

The question was answered as Lily did something incomprehensible.

With a step, she was at The Spider's side, her clawed gauntlet striking down, aiming to rake the assassin's flank. Miss Plusier batted away William's blade and then twirled, using the same hand to meet Lily's charge. Needles clanged against the outstretched claws, and the attack was diverted harmlessly.

She didn't immediately retaliate, a look of perplexity on the woman's face. There was an unspoken question among all those present.

Lily, what did you think you were doing?

"That's about what I figured would happen." Lily took a step back, but the look on her face was not one of someone retreating. "But I'm not the kind of girl that lets others dictate her life. Not anymore anyway. So I really don't care how out of my league you are." She took a breath, sliding a foot back and raising both gauntlets. "I'm going out swinging either way."

Stupid.

But he'd done the same.

"Well said, Lady Arcutien. Allow us to assist you in this quest." A woman's voice came from above. Cal's eyes traveled up, seeing a woman in her mid-thirties carrying a great sword and clad in plate armor. She glanced toward William. "I know our orders were to stay back, but we used our judgment."

Sigils lit up; no magic was launched from them, but their light shone on the new arrivals.

A dozen or so men and women were arranged on the surviving pallets. They weren't uniform in appearance, sporting different sets of armor and weapons. In fact, not a single one looked alike. The only thing to tie them together was a silver emblem depicting a raised finger. This must have been William's retinue.

Between their appearance and little speeches, Cal was feeling like the bad guy. Which was a good thing, as that was who he was meant to be portraying.

"This is beginning to spiral," William acknowledged with a put-out expression. "Please ensure my fiancee and Lady Ardere remain unharmed." William addressed his followers before turning back to Cal, giving a slight bow. "I thank you for your patience. It appears your record understates your honor as well."

It took a second to realize what he meant, and Cal suppressed a groan. He probably should have pincered the guy while he was fighting Miss Plusier. He had been too distracted, making sure no one unexpectedly left the mortal coil.

"More customers?" The Spider's eyes flicked to each of the new arrivals. "I've always been more of a boutique operator." She pouted for a second before a manic grin formed on her face. "But I suppose an exception can be made."

The needles exploded from wherever they lay, assaulting multiple targets at once. Magic tried to meet them—blades of wind, earthen walls, and a myriad of other manifestations attempted to block their advance, only to have the small objects slice through them. There were several muted hisses of pain he caught, but he wasn't focused on them.

Cal watched as Lily and the woman from before both advanced on the assassin, who looked positively giddy.

Lily lunged faster than before, her gauntlet bearing down on the assassin, who let the attack sail on by with a single step to the side. Lily's teeth were gnashed together, and her eyes were wide as she pressed the attack. Her initial strike had been at speeds comparable to Rolland's.

Now? She was moving a touch beyond that.

Cal sensed the way her magic fluctuated, oozing out of her at inconsistent rates. That was the sign of someone pushing past their limits.

"I'm afraid we'll have to end this quickly," William spoke, attracting his attention. Cal caught the worry in his tone and found it a tad ironic that it matched his own. If Lily continued like that, Miss Plusier wouldn't have to lift a finger for the girl's death. "However, I hope you continue to show the same restraint. I notice you haven't used your signature."

He hadn't.

Cal had been fighting with handicaps. Luckily, one of them was partially resolved with the arrival of these knights. He didn't like leaving Lily and Alice with the crossed assassin, but the knights should buy him some time.

The other was still an issue; he was far too close to those who would recognize him.

Even if he ran, by the time he got far enough, he'd be surrounded by civilians and be restricted by them instead.

If only there was a direction he could go to let loose.

"Hey boss," Cassey said quickly, ducking Pyre's overhead swing. She didn't hit back, leaping up in a backflip. She landed on her hands and spun, her boots deflecting Alice's next swing. "Help? I can't exactly keep this up."

Up.

Cal mentally hit himself on the head.

Of course.

He looked at the wooden ceiling, the cloudy night sky staring back at him through holes Willaim's group must have made.

All he had to do was go up.

Cal spared Cassey a look, hoping his 'sit tight for a minute' would be conveyed, and then took a sharp breath.

The beat of his heart kicked up, feeling like a drum in his chest.

His legs bent, and Cal made sure to meet William's eyes before promptly disappearing from sight. The ceiling shattered, sending splinters hurtling in all directions and threatening to skewer the remaining combatants, who were already struggling to remain upright as the beleaguered foundation was violently upended by the force of his departure.

He didn't dwell on their fates, needing to maintain his focus. It had been a long time since he pushed himself past his peak, and he wasn't satisfied with just breaking a warehouse.

Although, a Finger might do.