You can’t let them keep their distance. Truth remembered war gaming it. What he would do if, no, when the PMC rolled in. He counter-charged as fast as he could, launching himself at them with explosive steps. Get in fast, start the violence, plan from there. Level two’s and threes- moving like sleepy birds. Their faces were covered with masks and tinted goggles. So odd to see his reflection in the glass, sword rising high to take the first head. The Tongue went up then down- and was stopped by Clavegaugh.

Truth remembered Clavegaugh had been Level Four when he was still at the PMC. It looked like she was investing in herself too. She stopped the Togue with a steel rod covered in orichalcum traceries and near microscopic bands of enchantments etched into the metal. Stopped him with the rod, her body cultivation, and her Level Five strength.

Truth leaned into Incisive. He wasn’t here to fence- he had to kill. Fast. Every fraction of a second delay made death or capture more likely. Danger!

Truth ducked a fraction of a second before the rod blasted out a flat line of green light. Truth didn’t bother watching what it did, he opted to slam his shoulder into Clavegaugh instead. She rocked back half a step. Far enough for Truth to make a lightning fast draw cut. The blade bit through the armor, slicing through the webbing holding on the charm loadout Clavegauh carried. No real damage done, though, as Truth only managed a scraping cut along her ribs. Rather than parry, Clavegaugh opted to counter attack. The steel rod came in fast, and this time it was Truth that had to dodge.

He didn’t grin. No time for it. He kicked the belt of charms over towards the repositioning PMC soldiers, making a tiny cut and activating a very basic rune as he did. He then dove behind the riot cops.

Most people wouldn’t arm a grenade, attached to a belt of other grenades, with their foot, then kick it. Most people weren’t in such a target rich environment.

The charms went off. The anti-personnel ones were loud. The non-leathal flash-bang’s were a Hell of a lot louder. He jumped to his feet before the riot cops could collect themselves and he started throwing them towards the PMC soldiers. He grabbed one that still had his riot shield and hoisted him up as a human shield. Starbrite's oath was to obey the company and “such local laws as may apply.” And it was never legal anywhere to kill cops.

He felt Incisive scream again and he flung the cop forward and dove behind one of the Lobby’s sofas. Just in time to see the cop cut in half by a burst of needler fire. What the fuck?

“Punishment Company, deploy restraints!” Clavegaugh’s voice came through loud and clear.

Convicts. They dressed up convicts like riot cops. Those sick bastards guessed what I would do. Which means…

There was just too much going on. Too many layers to this trap. He couldn’t kill them all. Not with how well they had prepared. A sadistic old monster, the PMC, and a couple hundred “riot cops?” What was next? He would have to run.

Truth broke his own cardinal rule for fighting the PMC and sprinted as hard as he could away from them. Abner’s Amble was stacked on top of Incisive, letting him just plough through everyone in his way. They could move, or be moved in pieces. He didn’t make it far enough before the tar pit slammed down.

The convicts had deployed the non-lethal charms they had been equipped with. The spell was simple- it made everything in its area of effect travel more slowly. A Level Two or Three charm, usually. Not something he could ignore, but not too much of a problem with his spell resistance. The PMC wasn’t taking chances. Dozens of the charms had gone off next to each other. And now the soldiers had time to regroup.

Not ideal. Shit. I really, REALLY wanted to keep this card hidden.

The PMC did not care about Truth’s wishes. They just started shooting where they thought he was. The riot cops screamed and tried to dive for the ground, but they were slowed by the same field effect. It was a nightmare sort of horror, trying to run from the coming death but unable to move.

Truth silently sighed and cursed his arrogance. There was a limit to social cover. Apparently he had pushed it too far. Either that, or he had left some trail behind him, enough for them to plan all this. Obliteration. He held the Tongue out in front of him, watching the field of magic burn around it. Truth suddenly felt the restraints on him evaporate. At the same moment, he realized he had, yet again, fucked up.

When Obliteration was cast, the destroyed magic dissolved in a spray of color and light. Small if it was a small amount or in a small area, then it scaled up. The incoming fire suddenly got a lot more accurate. Truth had painted himself as a beautiful target.

The fire came in fast and accurately. Needles enchanted with Graeme’s arrow, Plutonian Chains, Sharp, Enlarge, and dozens others ripped through the air at him. Slowed where the field effect was still active, but a needler round stacked with Graeme’s arrow? “Slow” was relative. He dodged what he could, flinging convicts into the path of the rounds to absorb as much fire as he could, and more importantly, block their view.

Through the slowly sinking bodies came Clavegaugh. Strong enough to bull through the spell, slapping aside obstacles. Not caring if some of them exploded in sprays of slowly falling gore. The steel rod lashed out with the cutting rays of green light. Truth didn’t know what they were, and didn’t care to find out. He just dodged, relying on Incisive and his inhuman reflexes to keep him clear.

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I have, at most, a couple of seconds before the field drops and the PMC can maneuver on me. At which point, I am likely dead. So to break contact, I have to put down Clavegaugh. In a couple of seconds. Seems… optimistic.

Truth grabbed a falling riot shield and used Abner’s Amble to take a sharp step towards Clavegaugh. Graeme’s Arrow. He threw it as hard as he could, straight at her. The results were… interesting.

Graeme’s Arrow moved some of the shield at high speeds towards Clavegaugh. The rest just exploded into a tumbling cloud of steel and plastic, rolling in her general direction. Clavegaugh tried to get down. She covered her head with her arms. The cloud of high speed steel and shrapnel still caught her. Some bounced off her armor. Others slipped through gaps, tearing gashes in her arms and legs. Truth guessed that she was only a bit slowed by it.

She was the one who explained body cultivation to him, all those years ago. The System meant she could swap it in and out as she pleased. He grabbed another shield, pulled the same stunt, and got back to running.

The spells ripped through the air around him. Truth tried to move from cover to cover, but that simply wasn’t possible in a hotel lobby. Even a lobby packed with convicts. The PMC could just shoot at the shine, so concealment was more aspirational than practical as well. He was starting to take hits. Lines of fire scraping over his arms, across his shoulders, grazing his leg. He was dodging, moving erratically, mixing in Abner’s Amble so they couldn’t get an accurate grasp of his pace.

The field dropped. All the “cops” hit the floor. Truth was forty meters from the back exit of the hotel. He managed to get a pillar between himself and the PMC, but they were already starting to shoot through the meter thick concrete. He didn’t know what was out there. He assumed the whole damn Army. He’d still take his chances with them over the PMC.

He had not managed this fight well. He wasn’t thinking straight. He was almost certainly running into another trap. But there were just too many things to keep track of here. He had to get out!

Truth crouched low, getting ready to leap for his next cover. Then a thought, almost a whisper in his ear, slithered through the creeping panic. I’m acting like prey. They are hunting me, and I am acting like prey. This isn’t the answer.

He stopped. Took a deep breath. ‘Out’ was not viable. Neither was ‘Up,’ as they definitely had air support. That left down. And while he didn’t much like ‘down,’ it seemed a better bet than the rest.

Truth grabbed a hunk of cement, and bounced it hard off the wall and towards where the fire was coming from. He yelled “CHARM OUT!” Figuring it would buy him a second while everyone dove for cover. He used that second to drive as much power as he could into Incisive, using the fangs to cut through the floor. He hacked out a just big enough hole, and dove through it.

He wished like hell there was a trap he could rig. But there wasn’t so… wait.

Truth grinned horribly. Not a trap, no, but this should fuck with their heads for at least a minute. He cast Cup and Knife. The spell reluctantly fixed the hole he made. Truth killed his presence as best he could, and took to his heels.

Somewhere below this level there would be a sub basement. Possibly even a sub-sub basement below that, for storing magical equipment too big or too ugly to leave out where the public could see it. And because this was Harban and not some godforsaken shithole, there would be sewers and subways that ran nearby. Incisive wasn’t intended for tunneling, but he was prepared to make it work.

As he ran through the gray hallway, past the identical gray painted doors, he tried to slow his heart rate. Tried to recover as much of his brutally depleted energy as he could. He still had his backpack, so there was that. He quickly ran Obliterate over himself, in case he had been tagged with any tracking spells. He lit up like a firework display. They had got him good. Which meant that they knew where he was, even if they didn’t know how he got there.

He ran faster. Somewhere there would be… there! “Plant Room,” the door had a heavy lock on it. Truth used the “sword” universal pass and got in. It was the air recycling room. A hotel this size needed fresh air to circulate through all the rooms, so they used talismans to draw the stale air to the dark-growing trees in the plant room, and pushed the fresh air up. Trees need water. A lot of water, for this kind of work.

Truth looked around. Blue pipes, running from the floor near the back wall. Didn’t have to be potable water. The demons tending to the trees would lap up any diseases or impurities quite happily. He rushed over and started hacking away. It would take them a little longer to search for him now that he cleared away the trackers, but only a little bit longer. He had barely cracked a hole when Incisive screamed yet another warning. He tumbled to the side, finger long green needles burning with a noxious smoke where he had been standing a fraction of a second before.

The old monster was there. Guts still ripped open. Magic rippled oddly, unevenly, through his body. Not dead, though. Breathing. Rasping, short breaths. The vein throbbing on his forehead said his heart had been repaired too. And he got there ahead of Clavegaugh and the PMC.

“Boy, I am about done with you. You have thoroughly pissed off this Grandfather. So now you get to do this the very, very, very hard way.”

“I’m surprised. I was absolutely sure that would kill you.”

“You think just killing me is enough to make me die?” The old man cackled, an awful sound. “NAIVE!” Another wave of needles came in, and Truth didn’t need Incisive to tell him that this was going to be the end. Deeply enchanted, and driven by some subtle magic Truth couldn’t deduce in the fraction of a second available to him. So he did the only thing he could think of, and attacked.

Obliterate hit the needles before they could reach him. The Togue slapped them aside. Before the Old Monster could gather himself, Truth was on him. This time plunging the sword through his head. Then hacking the head off the shoulders, obliterating the heart, and hacking off his limbs.

“Don’t know how you come back. But that will take more than a minute to fix I reckon.”

“You can run, boy. You can run. But I will find you. I will find everyone you love, and keep you all alive, no matter what they do to you.” The mutilated head whispered. Truth stomped it into paste. He began casting Cup and Knife, but the draw on his cosmic energy was severe. He didn’t have enough left in him. “DAMN!” Did he hear boots running down the hall?

Swearing sulfuriously, he punched through into the sewer, sealed the hole behind him, and got running again.