Arrogance. Overconfidence. Recklessness. Grey flipped the Gold Key between his fingers, his thoughts far away. Failure was not uncommon to him. Though his Respawn Perk had faded away after a few months, it was all that had kept him alive during that first stretch in the desert. No, Grey knew failure, and he had hoped to not taste it ever again.

Yet here he was. A frown tugged at his lips. He clenched the Key tightly, staring out the window of his room. It was all for a purpose, he knew.

They had given him the Key for his efforts. Jessica had made sure of it. He couldn’t tell if she was onto him or trying to swing him to her side. It hardly mattered. She had miscalculated. With his Inventory, they would never get it away from him now.

It was a positive, undoubtedly. He had been, of course, asked to activate the Key’s ability to slow the Dungeon’s respawning. It severely limited how many monsters the Gates could send out into the world, and he had done it as soon as he regained his mental facilities to avoid suspicion.

It was now a few days after the raid. His injuries had been healed, but rest was the only thing for his taxed mind. The others had gone on various assignments, filling in other teams to make up for the vacancies left by the deaths in the Dungeon. Just this morning he had received his own assignment.

Infiltrate Hunter territory.

It reeked of Jessica’s involvement, but that was fine. When they had given him the Key, he had done his best to give it back and see where the ARA stored it. He had tipped his hand and the Keys’ importance. She had noticed, and now she wanted him out of the way. Perhaps she even wanted him gone while she consolidated her own position in the agency. It put him at a disadvantage, in Jessica’s eyes at least.

The Hunters and the Guild were both targets of his, but he still had things he wanted to do in the ARA. She had forced him to move up his time table. Maybe she had even outmaneuvered him in truth.

He rolled the Key over his knuckles again, his eyes tracking a paper bag from a restaurant blowing across the ground. Supply lines were still down, but the city had enough canned goods to last the remaining population for a bit. The few locals who had stayed despite the evacuation had long gained Evolutions of their own, most ending up recruited by one of the three factions within their city.

The odds were increasingly stacking against him. They always were for those who wished for more. In the end, the plan would conquer all, however. Grey had only to stick to it.

Someone rapped on his door. “Grey, can I talk to you?”

It was her. Of course it was her. He slid the Key in his pocket. “Come in.”

Jessica walked in dressed casually in a red t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. She carried a small box under her arm, and she sat it between them on his bed. He lifted an eyebrow.

“It’s the chess board,” she said in answer. “I figured you might want to play.”

He opened the box and withdrew the chess board, placing the black pieces on his side. Fine. She wanted to do this, and he figured it was about time to stop acting, anyways. They had danced. She had won this one. Now it was time to shift the paradigm.

She started with a simple opening, one that hedged on defense. Grey decided to play unorthodox, sending his bishop questing on her side of the board. She lifted an eyebrow.

“What do you think the goal of all this is?” she said, moving to threaten his bishop.

“Of what?” He moved in kind.

She waved a hand. “Of this. Of Chi. Of the Tutorial.”

“Why guess with limited information?”

“But if you had to?”

“If I had to,” he said, taking one of her pawns. “If I had to, I would say that both Chi and the Archons are products of physical laws beyond our current understanding. Their goals are unimportant, not understandable by our logical framework. If we were to die, it would surely have already happened.”

She bit her lip. “And what is your goal, then?”

“Strength.” His queen moved to the center of the board.

Stolen story; please report.

“How original of you.” She continued to play defensively. “You don’t want to save the world, stop all of this?”

“It is not power for power’s sake,” he shrugged, deciding to let her see his true self, “Power is all this is now. It determines meaning. Happiness. Purpose. The world is already saved. Before, you had the lot you were born with. Now, you can take more.”

“I disagree. I think this sort of power only widens the gap between those who have and those who do not. It makes life cheap.”

“Some are,” he said. He offered a sacrifice. She failed to bite.

She shook her head. “Do you really believe that?”

“A working citizen.” He lifted both hands upturned and raised one above the other. “A criminal.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t make murder okay.”

“Perhaps.” That was old world thinking, something he might have once agreed with, but Grey had died dozens of times and had the scars to show it. Life was indeed cheap, even ones like his own.

“And what is power to you, Grey?” she asked, moving a piece to block his own attack. “Is it how well you kill? Is it wealth? Is it your political power?”

He nodded. “You tell me.”

“I suppose I might measure it in the people you have on your side.”

He finally set up the gambit he had been waiting for, a sacrifice that included his own queen. She took it. It was not the sort of move he liked to do- losing the queen was often the same as a loss against good players-, but Jessica needed the benefits to outweigh the costs. She was methodical that way. Cautious.

Grey, however, had played better.

“May I ask you something?”

Jessica nodded. “Of course.”

He met her eyes. “Who is your uncle?”

“My uncle is,” she said, “Well he’s the head of the ARA. Before all of this, he was CIA, of course, but the whole thing was his idea. He had no information about Anomalies, but he was smart enough to know something was going to happen.”

“He’s intelligent, then.”

“Smarter than me.” Jessica smiled.

A threat, maybe? If Grey removed her, a more difficult opponent would appear. That, too, was like a game. He completed his gambit, leaving her pieces in disarray. The plans she had set up, gone. He had sacrificed his most powerful piece, but what was sacrifice in the face of ultimate victory? Yes, sometimes a loss had to be taken to win in the end.

“Good game,” he said, moving his rook into checkmate.

“You play risky.” She knocked her king over.

He shrugged. “You play defensively. Strong pieces only have value when they’re moved.”

“How wise of you.”

“You could’ve played smarter.”

She laughed. “Maybe, but then you would know how good I am the next game.”

“Then we’ll play when I get back from the Hunters. Thank you.” Of course, when he got back, things would be different. They would play, but it would be a different game, one without the fake comradery.

“If you need anything,” Jessica said, leaning in, “just ask me. I want to be your ally, Grey.”

“Aren’t we teammates already?” he asked, the facade already back in place.

She grinned. “I suppose we are.” She stood, clutching the board to her chest, and backed out of his room. He let his hands drop to the bed, and they touched something hard. He frowned. She had left the black king behind.

He rolled it between his fingers, running over his plans anew. Jessica had to die.

He needed three things: access to a certain Dungeon, a change to the war between the Guild and the Hunters, and a location that straddled the exact border of the iterations that divided the city in two.

He stored the chess piece in his Inventory. For next time, perhaps.

---

A day later, he sat on a rooftop in the Hunters’ Territory, looking down at the casino they based in. It was winter this time of year, and though snow had yet to fall, the cold breeze had already begun its siege on the city. Winter might be tough without electricity. It got quite cold here, but then again, with Evolutions, things could be figured out.

The comings and goings from the casino were less than they had been even a week prior. That was comforting, at least. Human psychology was still as it had always been, and cold days were spent indoors. For most, anyways.

Grey lowered his binoculars and rubbed his eyes, sitting back in his lawn chair. He wore thick clothes, and every few minutes, he allowed the heat of Chi Breathing to fill his limbs. Observe, plan, act. It was the way the desert had taught. He had strayed from his lessons.

Images filled his mind of his own deaths. He bit the inside of his lip, and the pressure in his head faded along with his memories. He had a singular goal: to become the Ultimate Player. That meant winning, no matter the odds, no matter the difficulty.

Something about that thought struck him oddly, as though it had been placed in his mind rather than coming up naturally. As soon as it came, however, the thought disappeared, and Grey wrote a small note in his book. Research, then act.

His official mission was simply to infiltrate Hunter territory, but that would not do. He needed more information than simply observing could provide. No, Grey would join the Hunters. It was, of course, easier spoken about than accomplished.

Some would think him a Guild spy. Others might even recognize him as a member of the ARA. Either way, he would have to prove himself and earn their respect, if not their trust. Their leader would want Keys, but Grey was loath to give them up. They were nearly impossible to replicate, as well. There was a distinct aura about a Key, one that radiated Chi. It was more than just metal.

His plan, however, accounted for it all.