Nathan dodged to the right, barely avoiding the dagger hissing past his ear. He yanked his trusty harpoon from his inventory, the weapon’s edge catching the sunlight.
Beside him, Bree twisted away as a wavy-bladed dagger stabbed the air where she’d stood. Chad blocked a strike from the one-armed man, his sword screeching against the assassin’s strange blade. All three attackers bore the same weapon—those twisted daggers with jagged crossguards Nathan recognized from earlier.
“The intel was right. These streamer brats see too much,” the old man growled under his breath.
“I’d say he’s exactly as sharp as I hoped,” Nathan muttered.
“What the hell’s going on over there?!”
Nathan’s gaze flicked toward the shout. Derek and his ragged crew stood gaping at the chaos.
Before Nathan could move, the old man snapped his fingers—just like in the forest. Flaming creatures erupted overhead: a horse, an eagle, a swarm of smaller beasts wreathed in fire. They surged toward Derek’s group.
“The hell are those?!” Derek screamed.
“Keep them busy while I finish this,” the old man barked.
Now. Nathan lunged, harpoon thrusting toward the man’s neck.
The assassin pivoted, elbow slamming Nathan’s sternum. Air exploded from Nathan’s lungs as his momentum died. He rolled sideways, scrambling back into a defensive stance.
Nathan smirked.
The old man reached up toward his neck, where a thin line of blood had been drawn.
“How did you…?” The old man muttered. “Who the hell are you?”
Nathan glanced at Chad and Bree. Both were locked in combat with the other assassins. No help coming. He looked back at the man.
He was holding back in the forest. Clever bastard.
“So. Harrowed Hand?” Nathan said.
The old man sneered. “What gave it away? The part where I tried to murder you after your friend asked?”
“Why?” Nathan said. “I get some brainwashed kid falling for your cult. But you’ve seen decades. You know the monster you serve. The madness you enable.”
The assassin staggered back before he dug his feet into the ground.
“Seen the old folks in the survivor camps, haven’t you?” he rasped.
Nathan eased his stance a fraction. “Yeah.”
“Know how they survived?”
“Family. Friends. People who cared enough to level them up.”
“And those who had none? The weak? The sick? The ones left behind?”
Nathan’s gut tightened. The System’s tutorial casualty numbers flashed in his mind—numbers he’d refused to dwell on. How many elders had died in the first week? How many were abandoned like trash when the world broke?
“My own children dumped me on the roadside,” the old man said. “Too much baggage.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. They led me to my purpose.” The man’s eyes gleamed. “A man found me that day. Fed me. Strengthened me. Showed me a vision—humanity united, standing unbroken against the dark. I pledged my life to that cause.”
Nathan’s spine prickled. The words sounded noble, but beneath them seethed a feverish intensity. Worse, he felt it now—the same energy he and Bree radiated. The energy of the strong.
Who is this guy?
In the background, Nathan could still hear the sounds of Bree and Chad fighting. Derek and Cole were running around, screaming as they were chased by giant flying monsters.
"Why tell me this?" Nathan asked.
"Because I don’t think you’re a bad sort, Nathan. And I don’t even think you’re opposed to us on principle. Vinnie was an idiot—a malicious, stupid fool who doesn’t represent what our organization stands for. I think we could help each other, Nathan, as unbelievable as that might seem."
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"How? What could you possibly offer me—?"
"Your sister."
Nathan froze. His heart hammered in his chest, and his muscles tensed like a wound-up spring ready to explode.
"If you so much as touch her—"
"We haven’t touched her. It’s an offer."
Nathan stopped.
"What do you mean?"
"You’re looking for her, right? And you’ve employed Bree’s help. I’ll admit, what she’s done is impressive, but do you think she has even a fraction of the Harrowed Hand’s power? We have hundreds of cells, and we’ve broken through on the communication front. Imagine having the entire Harrowed Hand dedicated to finding your sister. She’d be located in a matter of days, if not hours."
Nathan’s palms were sweaty. His mouth felt dry.
"I’ve heard the stories," Nathan said. "I know what you’ve done—"
"Vinnie was a monster. I promise you, we’re not all like that."
"What about the assassinations? What about the fact that you came after Bree?"
"From our perspective, you were an unknown factor who’d single-handedly killed dozens of our comrades. We didn’t know your reasons, so we sent someone after you. Things have changed. We came across information that showed the full story. The people who gave us false intel have been disciplined. As for Bree, we hold no ill will toward her. But in the last circle, she tried to play hero and got in the way of one of our objectives. She didn’t know anything—we were just trying to feed people, but she attacked us anyway.”
This had to be a lie, right? Surely there was something Nathan was missing.
"So why come after me now?” he said.
"Come after you?"
"You were planning to assassinate me, weren’t you?"
"God no! All I wanted was to sit down and have a chat! Unfortunately, your friend made that quite impossible."
Nathan’s jaw opened and shut a few times. He wasn’t sure what to make of this.
"You don’t have to accept the offer now," the old man said. "Just think about it. That’s all I ask."
Nathan narrowed his eyes and glanced at the man’s dagger.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The old man smirked.
"My name is Silas." The man’s face flickered like a staticky TV channel, revealing a different face before it snapped back to normal. "Spymaster and chief advisor of the Harrowed Hand. But you know me by another name: the High Assassin, the fifth ranked. ”
Nathan’s body tensed.
The old man’s eyes flicked toward his two companions. They gave a quick nod and disengaged from their opponents, backing away toward the trees. The old man snapped his fingers, and smoke poured out of nowhere, obscuring them.
"After them!" Bree shouted.
"They’re already gone," Nathan said.
And indeed, though Bree and Chad rushed into the forest to hunt them down, they found nothing.
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Bree and Chad eventually returned from their hunt through the forest, both of them covered in sweat, dirt, and mud. It was clear they hadn’t found a single thing—the looks on their faces said it all.
Nathan, however, wasn’t paying much attention to their return. His mind was elsewhere. Even as everyone spoke to him, confirming he was uninjured and making sure he knew they were heading back now, Nathan didn’t register a word.
Instead, his thoughts were consumed by what Silas had told him.
Nathan didn’t know if he could believe them—and honestly, he probably didn’t. Not yet, at least. He needed more evidence. He’d have to watch how they acted in the coming weeks before he could come to any firm decision.
But what if they were innocent? What if they could help him? What if this was exactly the kind of support he needed?
He avoided bringing the topic up with Chad and Bree, of course. He didn’t know what to think of what had happened, and he doubted they’d have any useful insight to offer.
No, he knew exactly the kind of insight they’d give. Chad would launch into his usual spiel about being able to spot psychopaths from a mile away, while Bree had every reason in the world to lie to him. Who’s to say that if Nathan told her about the deal, she wouldn’t make something up just to ensure he didn’t take what might be the better option? Nathan didn’t know her well enough. She could be honest and helpful, or she could be a total liar. There was no way to be sure.
For now, Nathan decided, he’d just have to keep his head down and avoid trouble.
Although… Bree would definitely be suspicious of him going forward. The fact that he knew about the assassins would raise an obvious question: Why were they trying to assassinate him? And that wasn’t an easy question for Nathan to answer.
And Chad was pretty good at reading people… He’d never been wrong before.
He shook his head, he’d think about it later and decide what to do.
As soon as they got back to the survivor camp, Nathan darted into a building, Chad trailing behind him.
“I need to handle something downtown,” Nathan said. “Can you keep an eye on this place? Make sure nobody sticks around?”
Chad nodded. “I’ll keep it clear.”
Nathan gave him a half-smile before turning away and focusing on opening his portal.
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Nathan shut the portal behind him as soon as he stepped through, pulling up his jacket hood. His fashion sense was unconventional compared to the people here, to say the least, but he hoped it would be enough to keep anyone from recognizing him. After all, the desert people were living here now, and blending in was crucial.
He glanced around, his eyes widening in disbelief.
In the few days since Nathan had last been here, massive changes had taken place. The shacks were gone, replaced by multi-story structures—not quite skyscrapers, but they bore a striking resemblance to modern architecture. To his right, someone bumped into him; to his left, another person did the same. He was surrounded on all sides by a bustling crowd moving through the town square.
Nathan moved forward, blending into the flow of people. His gaze darted around until it landed on a massive, imposing building.
The meeting hall was no longer the Viking-style structure that had once dominated the area. Instead, it now resembled something akin to the White House. Towering marble pillars, a domed roof, and security guards patrolling the perimeter. A tall fence encircled the entire property, and the unfinished wooden frame suggested it was only going to grow larger.
"What the hell have they been doing?" Nathan said.
He shook his head. It didn’t matter right now.
Nathan continued wandering through the streets and alleys, eventually arriving at his destination.
Vee’s laboratory.
He pushed open the door. Maybe here, he would finally start to get some answers to the countless questions swirling in his mind.