“Bring her back.” Grey laid Jessica’s body on the cobbled road in front of him. The citadel of the daemon’s Dungeon loomed above, its red light staining her bloody. Her eyes were open. Vacant.

“It’s not that simple, I-”

“Bring her back. You said you could,” he said, cutting off Shade, the queen of the daemons. This was a part of his plan. It would happen.

“I need sacrifices to do this. My kind require a lot of energy to-”

“Okay.” He waved a hand, and his soldiers marched up lines of prisoners, their heads covered by dark bags. He had prepared for this, too.

The process was quick, and when the blood of the prisoners fled down the street, she sat up. Her skin was gray, lifeless. Her hair, once chestnut, now had the color of ink. But it was her eyes that snared him, golden and bright like he remembered. His features softened.

Then she spoke. “I am of shadow and silk. To death goes my loyalty, but you, my queen, have my allegiance.”

Shade looked at him, her face almost merriful. Almost happy. She knew.

Grey took another look at Jessica. Her eyes seemed dull now, pitiful. What he had glimpsed was nothing more than hope. False hope. A weakness.

She looked up at him. He said nothing, drew a dagger, squatted. They were at eye level now, close. She tried to pull back. His hand locked around hers.

His knife went into her throat. Quick. Sharp. Her blade-arms were still growing. They failed to reach him, leaving only a scratch along his cheek.

He jerked the blade free. Obsidian ichor flowed out, running across her chest. Spilling onto his hand. She slumped, golden eyes forever closed.

He stood. The queen tried to move, but it was too late. The crown materialized around his skull, and then she was pinned, pikes ran through her back and arms. His boot made her screams muffled, then silenced them completely.

“Still defiant.” He clucked his tongue. “Your brother will take your place, then. He, at least, has learned obedience. You still must be taught.”

The world had to be conquered, the undergrowth burned for something new. Something better. He had no mercy for false kings and queens. False gods. They weren’t his equals. He knew now he had none. Grey Shor was alone.

His hand wrapped around his spear.

He stepped out of the Dungeon to familiar faces. Renan, Mandy, Ana, Mother, Father. They moved towards him. He lifted a hand. His soldiers stepped between them.

“Grey, what is this?” his mother asked.

He watched them for a moment. Emotions flickered across his mother’s face. Hope, anger, confusion. His sisters looked prepared to fight, their eyes laced with suspicion. Father was silent, stoic. He had hardly ever been anything less even when Grey had cried to him.

And Renan. Renan was worst of all, for he showed emotions and felt none. Grey’s eyes locked with his brother’s.

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False equal.

At a command, the soldiers drug his brother to him and shoved him to his knees. His family complained, but they did not struggle, not yet.

“Renan.” The words came out raw, harsh.

“Brother.”

A persuasion Evolution. Grey could feel his thoughts being swayed at the lone word. He was a creature of logic, however.

His fist smashed his brother’s face, flattening a nose. Then again. Blood coated his hand. His mother screamed. Again. He dropped still on the fourth, unconscious.

“Let them go,” he said with a wave. His soldiers stepped back.

Ana swept Renan into her arms. Mandy glanced at him warily. His mother and father watched him from a distance, finally united.

“W… Why?” his mother asked.

Grey thought it over. “He thought to cow me, use his prior abuses to control me. I cut that off.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Mandy interrupted her. “Abuses?”

Grey’s face remained impassive. He nodded to Renan. “Yes. He beat me, belittled me, manipulated me. I expect it was due to stressors from mother and father’s marital issues. I am afraid what you have seen is mostly an act.”

“Grey,” his mother said. “Don’t say-”

“This isn’t an argument. I am both lord and judge.”

“You’ve changed,” Ana said with a shake of her head. Her armor flared around her, but it was interrupted by the tip of a spear.

“Think, sister. If I didn’t care, would I have saved you? I love you all. Dearly. But I resent you. Deeply.” A lump rose in his throat. He crushed it. “I won’t kill you. Or harm you. Go where you want, do as you please. If I wish to speak, you will know.”

When he walked away, Legate marched up beside him. “That was callous.”

“Yes,” Grey said simply. “But they can’t be close to me.”

“Blades will always find the chink in armor.”

“Then we must not make it easy for them to find, no? That is the thing about Achilles. The heel is ever a hard place to hit.”

The reference was lost on the suit of armor. “We’ve won with acceptable costs, but I must remind you that you are no god of strategy or war.”

Something dark flashed across Grey’s face, but it disappeared, buried. “I am the god of victory, however, and I have delivered. Will you follow?”

“No,” it said after a moment. “But I will aid.”

Grey nodded. There was dislike there but respect, too. “I am grateful.”

“Good. I was always the competitive sort. Deliver victory, and my sword is yours.”

“I believe I can accept that.” Grey looked around the city. “This city could be yours, you know.”

“Oh?”

Grey thought to the prompt he had received after his victory. Single Player could absorb Dungeon Master at the next Rank. It confirmed a theory.

The presence in Single Player was manipulating him. Guiding his actions. It wouldn’t allow him to combine Single Player and Chi Mastery previously to force him into merging it with Dungeon Walker. Now it was offering him power, urging him onward. He would let it think it was winning for now. He still had to learn its end goal. Then he would turn the tables.

“Yes, I believe I can give it to you.”

“That would be a sight.”

“It will be.” Grey swept a hand in front of him. They walked down a shattered street strewn with the remains of civilization. The sun was setting, chased to the horizon by its lunar enemy. “This is the start of our kingdom.” His kingdom. “My people have rejected me, so I will fill it with your own and those like you.”

“Have you named it?”

“My people had a name for this city, then they changed it to District Twenty-four. I, however, like the name Fable.” And so it was. Single Player confirmed his ownership of the city, offering him menus for further exploration.

Side by side, Grey and Legate walked further into the city of Fable. His troops filled the city with monstrous roars and cries, but they were his. They bowed when he asked, fought when he commanded. They weren’t his equals- nothing was, but they healed a void he hardly remembered existed.

There were many games played on Earth, and Grey Shor was in the midst of one more deadly than any had ever before seen. It was a game for one.

It was a game for the Single Player.