"Have you completely lost it?"

The AI's voice erupted in Kyle's mind, practically vibrating with panic.

"Oh, look who rebooted," Kyle observed coolly.

"System startup achieved in 0.1 seconds, surpassing 99.99% of known processing speeds," the AI announced smugly before pivoting sharply. "But that's hardly relevant right now. Are you actively trying to get us killed? Why would you reveal you're an impostor?"

"That's not what matters."

"Then pray tell, what does?"

"Michelle's reaction to it."

Kyle kept his gaze trained on the sorceress as he conducted this internal dialogue.

And just as he'd predicted, Michelle barely acknowledged his confession. She merely let out a contemptuous snort, not even deigning to shift her position. His revelation seemed to leave her utterly unmoved.

The AI lapsed into stunned silence before muttering, "I must be experiencing a critical system error. Clearly my security protocols have been compromised."

"…"

Kyle could hardly blame his digital companion for struggling to keep up. Michelle's thought process was labyrinthine, and it had taken him considerable time to untangle it himself.

True, his earlier attempts to probe for information had been riddled with errors. The inconsistencies in his story were glaringly obvious. Those slip-ups had made Michelle question his identity, even suspect he might have somehow switched places with the real Lither heir.

But paradoxically, it was the very obviousness of those mistakes that had preserved his life.

Because the errors were so blatant, after initially doubting his identity, Michelle's paranoid mind had leaped to a second, more elaborate conclusion:

What if this was all an elaborate ruse? What if Kyle was deliberately making mistakes, trying to convince her he was an impostor?

Michelle had tied herself in knots with her own cunning.

Here's what Kyle imagined was running through her mind:

[Kyle's theatrical reconstruction of Michelle's paranoid logic, played out as an overwrought melodrama:]

"You're not Grant Lither - reveal your true identity!"

[Kyle envisions himself switching to mustache-twirling villain mode] "Indeed! The real noble heir is safely hidden away!"

"Where have you taken him? Speak, or forfeit your life!"

"Oh, I'll tell you… for a price. Meet my demands, or the young lord returns to his family and exposes your schemes. Mwahahaha!"

"Treacherous cur!"

[Imaginary Kyle continues hamming it up]

Until suddenly Michelle has her dramatic revelation: "No… this is all a ploy! You ARE Grant Lither, attempting to deceive your way to freedom!"

[Villain-Kyle's triumphant laughter dies] "How did you divine my scheme?"

"Your tricks cannot fool one such as I!"

And thus, no matter what increasingly outlandish performance Kyle might attempt, Michelle had made her decision: this WAS Grant Lither! He could start speaking in tongues while juggling flaming swords, and she'd still insist he was the genuine article.

"…that's the gist of it," Kyle concluded his explanation to the AI. "She's now convinced that anything I say is just another layer of deception."

After a weighted pause, the AI finally responded:

"…that is the most preposterous deduction I've ever processed."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Kyle replied serenely.

While his imagined scenario might have veered into theatrical excess, he was confident he'd mapped Michelle's psychological maze correctly. It was the only explanation that made sense of her otherwise inexplicable behavior.

When the realization first hit him, he'd wanted to tell Michelle she was massively overthinking things. But considering her position, he could almost understand. She'd sacrificed everything for this vault, watching her network of allies crumble to nothing. The possibility that Kyle wasn't actually Grant Lither would mean all her carefully laid plans had been for naught.

So she chose to believe he was Grant Lither, because that belief kept alive her hope of claiming the vault's contents.

People see what they wish to see.

Viewed through this lens, Michelle suddenly seemed less the untouchable sorceress and more… human. With the Church's hunters closing in, she was under as much pressure as he was, walking the knife's edge between survival and doom. She simply wore her desperation better, maintaining that veneer of icy control.

And in the end, since Kyle truly wasn't Grant Lither, all her machinations would dissolve like morning frost.

It was almost tragic.

Of course, if an enraged Michelle decided to flay him alive, he wouldn't be in any position to sympathize with her plight. However pitiable her situation might be, she still held his life in her hands.

Unless…

Kyle seized that gossamer thread of possibility.

"Michelle, what treasure lies in that vault? What could be worth such extreme measures?" he asked, his tone carefully modulated.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"That's none of your concern." Her clipped response betrayed mounting tension.

"Come now, how can I not be curious? You've methodically sacrificed every ally at your disposal. Few prizes could drive a mage of your caliber to such lengths. I find myself… intrigued."

Kyle could hear the deliberately grating quality in his voice, and it made his skin crawl. But necessity demanded it - his life hung in the balance. He had to play this particular gambit, distasteful as it was.

He needed to confirm his other "deduction."

The one that could upend everything.

"Your curiosity is misplaced." Michelle's patience was clearly fraying.

"Oh, but there's so much to consider! For instance…" Kyle pressed on, deliberately needling.

Michelle finally snapped: "SILENCE!"

Finally.

Kyle felt as if he'd found a crucial draft of air, excavating his way through a sealed cave. A ray of hope touched his face.

"You want me to be quiet?"

He dropped the deliberately irritating tone, his voice suddenly grave.

"Yes. You talk too much." Michelle remained oblivious to what was coming.

"Then… why not silence me yourself? Use that binding spell again, as you did before. Didn't you say you 'hoped I wouldn't cause further trouble'?" Kyle's words came slower now, measured, his heart pounding with each syllable. "Or could it be… you fear to use your magic?"

Michelle went rigid.

Though he couldn't see her expression beneath the cowl, Kyle knew her razor-sharp composure had cracked.

Something had been nagging at him since Michelle's attitude had soured, though he hadn't been able to place it until now. In that moment of clarity, everything clicked into place. His earlier needling had merely been to confirm his theory:

If Michelle so desperately wanted him to shut up, why not simply recast the binding spell?

The last time she'd bound him, he couldn't even speak. The spell clearly had the power to render its target mute.

After repeated testing and observation, the answer was plain: She couldn't use it. Or more precisely, given the presence of the Cleansers, she didn't dare. She feared detection by the Church's hunters.

Following this logic, the Cleansers must be able to sense magic within a certain range.

When she'd used the binding spell earlier, Annie had only just left, not yet fallen to the Cleansers' blades. So when they detected the flare of magic and spotted Annie in her witch's robes, claiming to surrender to "House Lither's pursuers," they naturally assumed she was the sorceress they hunted - the one who had cast the binding spell.

And so, without hesitation, they had "cleansed" Annie.

Afterward, believing they'd eliminated their quarry, the Cleansers planned to patrol briefly before taking their leave. Meanwhile, Michelle would slip away right under the Church's nose. Whatever crimes had put her in their crosshairs would now be attributed to the deceased Annie.

It was an elegant plan, achieving three objectives at once: eliminating Annie, escaping the Church's pursuit, and cutting off Kyle's chance of flight.

The only flaw was that she couldn't use magic while the Cleansers remained within range.

That's why she was so desperate to shut him up, but wouldn't risk another binding spell.

"You have the right of it. I cannot use magic - the Cleansers would sense it. Even without magic, those Church dogs would normally be able to track us. Their senses are uncanny. I've had to employ… unconventional methods to avoid detection."

Michelle finally spoke, her tone carrying a new note of caution. "But what of it? Even without magic, do you truly believe you can escape me?"

Kyle couldn't suppress a smile, shaking his head.

"I'm not planning to escape you. You'll be the one fleeing from me."

Michelle's confusion was evident. "What is thy meaning?"

Instead of answering, Kyle closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. With a subtle ripple in the air, he intoned an incantation.

The water sphere spell.

In Kyle's mental landscape, the pale blue triangular sigil trembled gently. Silent notes resonated from his soul, echoing through reality for the first time. In some unknown corner of the aether, water elements surged like a tide, responding to an unseen will, materializing and condensing in his palm…

In an instant, a sphere of water floated before him.

A fragile orb no bigger than an infant's fist, seemingly ready to rupture at the slightest touch - yet it seemed to freeze time itself, making all creation tremble.

Kyle's triumphant smile reflected in its surface.

"No one to take the fall for you this time," he remarked, glancing in the direction the knights had departed, his tone laced with irony. "The Cleansers will be coming. You should run."

Michelle stared at the tiny water sphere, utterly stunned.

She had outmaneuvered Kyle by exploiting his ignorance of the Cleansers, but he had turned the tables by concealing his magical ability.

Once the Cleansers sensed the water sphere, they would resume their hunt. Michelle couldn't hope to escape their pursuit while dragging Kyle along as dead weight. She would have to abandon him. And Kyle need only play the helpless hostage for the Cleansers to return him to House Lither.

Of course, she might kill him in a rage, but Kyle judged that unlikely. The added crime of murdering a noble would only compound her woes. The Cleansers were dogged hunters - leaving Kyle alive would slow their pursuit, affording Michelle a better chance of escape.

Thus, Kyle would secure his freedom, while Michelle's schemes would come to naught.

Perfect.

Unable to match her in raw power, Kyle had carefully played the weakling, guiding the confrontation into a battle of wits. Finally, with one small counterweight, he had tipped the scales of victory.

What more could he say?

"Who's the poser now, son? I pulled off a complete uno reverse with a single water balloon! Certified genius, baby!" he crowed mentally at the AI.

"…"

The AI remained silent for a beat before projecting an image of a sweating emoji into his field of vision.

"Hey, no fair! Since when can you use emojis?" Kyle sputtered indignantly.

The AI seemed to briefly short-circuit before responding in a measured cadence:

"I wouldn't pop the champagne just yet, boss. Call it a hunch, but something tells me Her Wickedness won't throw in the towel that easy."

True to the AI's warning, Michelle appeared to be recovering from her shock.

She glared at Kyle, biting off each word: "Who said anything about a scapegoat? I'll just drape my robes over your cooling corpse. The Cleansers won't care if you're some noble's whelp - they'll purify you all the same!"

Kyle remained unruffled.

"Yes, you could do that," he agreed placidly.

But as the AI had noted, Michelle wouldn't surrender so easily.

She wouldn't abandon her quest for the vault's secrets.

And Kyle - or rather, his identity as Grant Lither - represented her best hope of attaining them.

She couldn't kill him if she wanted the vault's contents, or she'd be forced to orchestrate another abduction. Given how disastrously this first attempt had unfolded, could she truly hope to pull off a second? Where would she find more disposable pawns?

She also couldn't keep Kyle with her while evading the Cleansers. As with their earlier flight, he would slow her down, and the knights were relentless. With Kyle in tow, they would be overtaken in short order.

Her only recourse was to let Kyle go and hope for some manner of cooperation. However unlikely that might seem.

Either way, Kyle now held the advantage.

"Lady Michelle, shall we… discuss new terms of partnership?" he inquired, mimicking her earlier measured tones with a hint of mockery. "Let me go, and in exchange, I'll help you obtain what you seek from the vault. Surely that's more efficient than this tiresome game of cat and mouse?"

Michelle lapsed into silence before finally sighing in resignation.

"You win," she ground out.

For the second time in over five hours, Kyle heard those words.

Thank every deity in the multiverse, he was going to live!

It felt like he'd been climbing through an endless abyss for a small eternity, enduring countless moments of despair and hardship, choking back every surge of panic until his muscles screamed and his body threatened to give out entirely.

Finally, he glimpsed the first ray of dawn.

He was a noble's heir, after all. Once he got through this waking nightmare, a life of luxury and privilege awaited…

As these thoughts flickered through his mind…

"Look out!" the AI suddenly warned.

Before Kyle could react, a fist like lightning struck his left cheek with a sickening crack.

What in the seven Hells?

With shocking abruptness, Michelle had channeled her inhuman strength into a devastating punch. This was the same monstrous power that had allowed her to haul him up a tree one-handed like a sack of grain.

That strength, combined with the fury of having been outplayed, made for a truly jaw-dropping wallop.

Kyle saw only darkness before slipping into blissful oblivion.