Here’s some advice for all you thieves out there. If you want to conduct a heist, I recommend that you find a way to be in two places at once. I mean that literally. You can do this through teleportation, through simulacrum, or through even cloning.

But ultimately, you want people to think that they know your whereabouts, that they have your measure, that they can follow and track you. But then, in an instant, you want to be in another place, where they’re not looking, where they’re not prepared, where they’re not ready for you to intrude.

There’s only a finite amount of focus someone can devote, a finite amount of resources. Well, sometimes it’s about exploiting and drawing as much attention you can, and making them think that they have your measure before you steal and rob and raid their treasuries blind.

-The Trespasser’s Compendium

II-59

Openings (I)

"Listen, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that, well, what we just experienced escalated pretty quickly." Garrett leaned back upon a throne made out of soft pillows and satin bedsheets. Golden comforters were draped over his battle-worn body, while beneath he wore silken bed robes of absolute comfort. Absolute comfort taken literally, for that was their enchantment. The other disciples were dressed the same way, with most of their outer attire being washed and laundered by gold-armored servants who attended to their every need. Food demanded was brought on large trays, steaming hot or fresh and cold—desserts, main courses, appetizers, all available, almost anything anyone could call upon.

Slumberland was, per its name, a realm meant for rest and sleeping. Mattresses, beds, comforters, and more composed structures, becoming as if large archipelagos. Between them, however, were lined stalls, places to shower, to clean up, and to refresh, to relieve oneself. More than that, there were large curtains that could be pulled, allowing entire quadrants of Slumberland to be sectioned off from one another. Better yet, the curtains were also imbued with their own enchantments—noise silencing and censoring as well. Even Wei's Omniscience struggled to peer all the way through. It was like he was glimpsing into a mist. Whatever magics the Circle of Pride used to create this place, it was substantial. Substantial enough to trouble the night class, at least.

Wei kept his own armor on. It was already repairing itself, and his own flesh was coming back together, thanks to a brief period of meditation. Vendrian was of a similar mind. He didn't even go get cleaned up. He simply plopped himself down and sat there, staring at nothing in particular. The Scion of Death’s eyes wouldn’t stop moving. He seemed more confused than even Wei was, and that was saying something. With them were Agnesia, Rafael, and Ellena, though the former queen was already snoring, asleep, and exhausted from her recent ordeal. Wei still hadn't spoken to her about the situation—the young master's mind recoiled. Her fate was black and wretched. The god of death held her. She belonged to the Hound, so long as their taint remained within her.

Wei considered his options. Perhaps he could infuse her with his Ambition, try to shatter the connection between the Hound of the Withered Moon and the former queen. But if the taint was all that kept her in the world, then all he would do is condemn her to death, absolutely. And so it was that a Trespasser lich, the Scion of Death, his blade-bound sister, the Scion of Destruction, and the last Concept Breaker found themselves sharing an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, then," Vendrian began, planting Mourning through a mound of pillows between the group. As Rafael pulled a curtain in place, separating them from the rest of the sect. "I think we might want to talk about a few things."

"Yeah, I think we do," a voice suddenly boomed. Everyone but Wei reacted to Bishop’s arrival. The young master just sat still, eyeing the attendants. A purple Essence lit their Minds, and they didn’t seem to notice Bishop’s sudden manifestation. The Trespasser probably did something to their mind.

"Bishop," Wei said. "You waste no time.”

“You…" Vendrian said, shooting to a stand. Mourning was already in his hands, their length gleaming as deathly frost leaped out from its edges.

"John Bishop of the Trespasser’s Lodge." Bishop looked the bastard up and down and shook his head. "Well, aren't you just a miserable sight. Death’s Bastard. You know some of these demons can give a pretty good haircut, right?"

Vendrian sneered, "Fuck you."

"Yeah, it's about what I expected. But anyway, how's about this? You listen close to me right now, because I’m about to do what I can to cut your leash and get your wife out. After that, I’ll just need you to give one more thing to our good friend Wei here.”

Vendrian's expression softened, but his glare remained as hard as ever. "I've heard that before, from plenty of people. All who want to own me, use me. You're just another one in a long line of many."

"Sure I am," John Bishop said. "Unlike them, I have the capability to help you. And also, I know where they're keeping your wife and your little baby. Cute kid, by the way. Well, she's going to be.”

She..." Vendrian's voice thinned and softened. For the first time, he sounded aghast, afraid. "How do you know this? Are you lying to me?"

Bishop simply shook his head. "No, getting in and taking a peek, that's easy. Been doing this for years. Getting her out…” Bishop licked the corner of his cheek. "Well, that's going to take a little bit more agility." And Bishop's eyes fell on Wei. “Maybe a bit of agility and some breaking."

The young master, despite everything, found himself looking forward to this. His exhaustion was emotional and existential rather than physical. He didn't want to think, didn't want to review what had happened to him, even with the shell growling at him from the inside, demanding that he face his pain. He simply wanted to fight, to grow stronger, to solve his problems, and not look back, not think of what waited ahead.

"So then, Bishop, I suppose you have information for us, a plan."

John Bishop leaned back, and with a snap of his fingers, summoned a lit cigar to his mouth. "Maybe some plans, some maps, some ideas. But I want to see and hear how you might approach it."

"How I would approach?” Wei asked.

"I'm not always going to be here to help you out when things get rough. You're going to have to use that brain of yours. Can't just rely on you stabbing and punching things." The trespasser's smile flattened. "Doesn't always work out perfectly."

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Wei remembered the Souldrinker smashing him from behind. That momentary lapse in focus causing him another defeat. The young master clenched his teeth together. "I deserved that."

Bishop sighed. "No, Wei, it doesn't matter what you deserve or don't deserve. It's about what you can and can't do. Losing gets you killed. Gets you killed, it's no longer your problem. But that means everyone else suffers. You got more responsibility to everyone. Not just yourself. Look at them." He pointed beyond the curtains at the rest of Wei's disciples. "If you die, they die too. Or they all get taken as slaves. You go down, and that System belongs to someone else, and all the effort I put into keeping your ass alive just ends up making me look like a damn fool. You understand this, right?"

Wei's jaw tightened even further. "Yes.”

“Good. So, what I need you to do is start using that head a little bit more. Now, before I start, I'm going to explain what's about to happen over the course of the next few days."

"Stop," Agnesia said, interrupting him. "First, we need to talk. About my mother." Her voice fell to a desperate, hushed whisper, but in her eyes, flames burned.

Bishop’s posture sagged. "Listen, kid, I'm sorry what happened to her—”

“No! I don’t need excuses!” Agnesia growled. She took two steps closer to Bishop, tried to grab him, but her hands just went through. It was but a psionic projection. "Don't give me excuses." Her hands shook. She looked at Bishop, her eyes welling up. "I cannot lose her. I already did. I thought we were going to get her back. I thought the Harbinger had saved her. He didn't. He didn't!”

Agnesia snarled. Ellena only shuffled at the noise. She was beyond spent. When she was done moving, her daughter continued. 'He didn't. He merely, he merely delayed it. He merely…” Her hands closed into fists, and she couldn't keep talking. She had to compose herself.

Wei rose, unsure what he was capable of offering. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to, but it was Vendrian that beat him to it. Vendrian stood and patted the girl, running a large hand behind her back.

The young master cursed himself for his hesitation—and then found himself confused as to why he was so frustrated.

"We're all on borrowed time," Vendrian said, casually, calmly. "All on borrowed time. But if there's anything I can do, I'll try to find out."

"I as well," Morning said, echoing her brother's sentiments.

Agnesia nodded, but she didn't cry anymore. She seemed tired of it. "Is there a way? Is there something we can do?" She looked to Bishop. "I'm willing to give anything, pay anything."

The Trespasser shook his head. "This is beyond my capabilities. Frankly, she should be dead. The fact that the Harbinger managed that deal, to have her stick around for a while longer." He went silent. "You know the Hound's listening, right? It's his essence that's keeping her here. She's kind of like a fishhook at the end of the line. He can reel back at any time, and the longer she's here, the more it burns him. It spins him. It spins him much, but still. Imagine using yourself up just to keep a mortal."

"She's not some mortal. She's my mother." Agnesia almost cried.

Ellena coughed, and this time, Wei knew she was awake. But she didn’t enter the conversation, and kept her eyes closed. Wei understood, and left her be. There was only so much the human mind could take.

Bishop shook his head. "Listen, I don't have any promises, but I'll see what I can do. I'm going to need to look into things, maybe even talk to Sarah."

"What about me?" Wei finally said, interjecting. “What if I…” He summoned his scythe, and Bishop shook his head violently.

"You don't want to do that, kid. I understand what you said earlier. Severing the link is impossible. The link is her now. She doesn't have anything otherwise. She's part of the final end. You understand?"

Wei nodded slowly. "I can go there though. The Trespassers as well. The Final End cannot claim us. It doesn't consume me. It doesn't claim me for good.”

Bishop's expression softened. "No, it doesn't.”

“And so, is there a way perhaps," he gestured between him and Agnesia, "she could come go there through me? If… in the end…”

The princess’s expression almost collapsed.

John Bishop's mouth opened and closed several times. "Again, I have to look into it, but maybe, maybe, yeah."

The faintest sparks of hope and gratitude sparkled behind Agnesia's eyes, but still, it was just a paltry thing. She would have much rather her mother stay here, stay with her. But how rarely do they get what they want. How rarely does that final wish result in more joy, when they thought of his own mother, of their experience, of what she suffered, when in their meeting again, he faced his father, and it caused her only more pain. He wanted to see her one final time, not break her heart.

Wei dismissed his scythe, and he struggled with his thoughts. Eventually, he managed to push them away, back into the depths of his mind.

"Coward," the Shell growled.

"Vermin," Wei cursed, insulting his skill for the first time.

"All right," Bishop said softly, "I know that we're all a little bit emotionally unbalanced right now, however, I need you all to listen. I need you to focus, because right now, this is the best opportunity we'll have to perform a snatch-and-rescue."

"Because the Collectress will be here at the gala instead of at her stronghold," Vendrian said.

"Yeah, because she's going to be here, with her attention and every bit of her focus, caught up with all the dukes and princes and the big players. Big players you all are gonna meet. Six full days of ass-kissing, debauchery, revelry, and power-moving, Significance trading. That, and a few other champions will be showing up here as well.”

Wei looked to the others, while Vendrian frowned. “Champions?”

“Other high Significance representatives for each of the Circles. Like yourself.”

The Scion of Death paused and then glanced once at Wei. “You want him to be Hell’s Vanguard for the coming invasion.”

Say one thing about Vendrian, say he was smarter than he looked.

"However,” Bishop continued without answering Vendrian’s deduction, “While this happening, you got an opening. And I have schematics, a layout to the Collectress's Palace of Pleasure. Problem is, you're gonna need to find a way to get there without being noticed."

Wei went still and pulled up his system menu, and materialized a Source Anchor. A column of shadow and light materialized at the center of the group as Wei felt a percentage of his Source Essence drain away.

“I can create an anchor,” Wei said. “Perhaps I can find myself in two places at once.”

Bishop smirked. “Maybe. But you might not want to be weakened for this. A lot of ways to end up dead during one of these social outings. And, also, you're going to be the guest of honor here. So jumping between place? Well. You best do it quick and fast, because the Circle elites are going to be on you like flies to shit.”

“So then what do you recommend,” Wei said. “What other options do I have?”

"The other choice? You can send someone else, or you can hire someone."

Wei paused.

"You got a lot of money from me," Bishop said, a wry grin creeping across his face. "Didn't let you sue me for nothing."

"Mercenaries,” Wei said, almost aghast. Frankly, having someone else do his work seemed like sacrilege. There were sects that employed mercenaries. His mother even employed outside help. But ultimately, nothing beats performing a task in-house with people you trusted. People you trusted.

Wei’s attention slowly drifted towards Raphael. The lich specialized in deception and stealth. Now combining that with his Ciphers, maybe, just maybe…

"What," Rafael said flatly. "Why are you looking at me like this, Wei?"

"Rafael," Wei began, "would you like a few more Aspect Advancement shards?"