PART 1

"Are we calm yet?" I asked with just the tiiiniest hint of exasperation in my voice, and the two trigger-happy idiots in front of me nodded in unison. They were both sitting on their heels in the middle of the living room with the conference table. Or rather, Rinne did so, while Jaakobah was clumsily yet stoically trying to follow her example, even though he obviously wasn't used to this kind of thing.

Anyhow, the two of them kept eyeing each other instead of responding to me (though in the case of Mountain Girl, I could only guess based on body language), so I forcefully cleared my throat and crossed my arms.

"Jaakobah. Explain."

My self-appointed guard's eyes snapped back to me, and after a salute made infinitely clumsier by his posture, he spoke up in an especially mirthless voice.

"I arrived at the Archon's residence at sixteen-thirty to make my report regarding the current state of the Praetorian Guard. Upon entry, I made contact with…" He paused and directed a disparaging glance at the woman motionlessly kneeling next to him. "Her. After repeated attempts to make contact, she refused to identify herself, so I made an effort to apprehend her. She resisted."

I waited for him to continue, but that was it. Once I successfully resisted the urge to facepalm again, I narrowed my eyes into a disapproving frown and locked gazes with the man.

"So you attacked her," I stated, and he nodded without a hint of pretence.

"It is my duty to guard you, and she was an unknown element in your quarters, meaning I—"

"Can it," I much less said than groaned and pointed at the stock-still Mountain Girl. "Don't even try to pretend her presence isn't already known far and wide in the Elysium."

"Yes, but…" Jaakobah tried to argue back, but after a short pause, he respectfully inclined his head forward and switched tracks. "Lord Archon? May I speak my mind freely?"

"When have you ever not done that?" I asked back, and his shoulders rose in a tiny shrug that could be best translated as 'Fair point' and moved on without any reservations.

"As you have predicted, her appearance is already widely known and speculated upon by the Directorate. I have been informed by Primus Khurshid that you designated her as your personal bodyguard, but as your Praetorian Prefect, I am duty-bound to object."

I continued to level a flat stare at him, but Jaakobah remained entirely poker-faced. At last, I exhaled hard and opted for massaging my temple instead of a facepalm.

"Are you questioning me right now?"

"No, Lord Archon. I'm merely advising," he answered smoothly, as if expecting the question. "The organization of the Praetorian Guard is still underway, and her presence infringes on the current chain of command. At the bare minimum, you should have notified me about her ahead of time." He paused, probably realizing that he sounded a bit too forceful. "As the Praetorian Prefect, it is my responsibility to ensure your safety, privacy, and to ensure smooth communications between you and the staff serving you. Such information is necessary for me to fulfil my duties."

He was making a decent argument, though I couldn't help but feel that the whole thing was really about Rinne encroaching on his newfound authority. As indifferent as he was on the surface, the way he kept emphasizing his rank made that much pretty obvious. That said, I was currently playing the role of Polemos, and as such, I had no reason to call him out on it. Or to play nice with him, if we were at that.

"What I choose to tell to whom is up to me and me alone," I told him in a low voice, and after letting him simmer for a moment, I continued in a more neutral tone. "That said, I'm not unreasonable. While I normally wouldn't tolerate conflict between my retainers, you acted in accordance with your duties, so I will not hold you responsible."

Jaakobah gave me another deferential nod, but then immediately followed it up with a pointed question.

"Understood. However, if still feel obliged to ask; are you not going to question her as well?"

I glanced at the motionless ninja-in-disguise, and had to admit that not hearing out her side of the story would've been a bit unnatural. Thankfully, I had a ready answer for that.

"She doesn't speak," I said in a disinterested tone. "She also has my full confidence, so there would be no need to question her."

Jaakobah blinked at me, and it took him several seconds to digest what I said, but then he threw another inquiry at me.

"If I may ask, who exactly is she for you to trust her to that degree?"

My first reflex was to give him the cover story I'd been fermenting at the back of my mind all day, but I had a different idea, and allowed an amused smile to creep onto my face instead.

"You tell me."

That was a bit too vague, as testified by the man's slightly raised brows, so I made a sweeping gesture towards Mountain Girl.

"I'm sure there are already countless rumours being traded about her, and I'm certain that you must have heard at least a few. So go ahead. Tell me who you think she is."

The dour Celestial eyed me for a few seconds, and once he concluded that I was serious, he straightened his back and took a deep breath.

"While I do not involve myself in idle gossip, I have indeed caught snippets of conversation pertaining to her." I gestured for him to continue. "The three most consistently spoken theories are as follows: some say that she's a talented Malakim the Lord Archon brought into the Migdál as a political statement."

"That one's probably coming from the Reformists," I guessed, and he nodded at once. "I'm not going to lie; I expected something more original. Let's see if the other two rumours could live up to my expectations."

"The second theory, claims that she's a member of a secret society that hid in the shadows of Elysium for millennia, loyal only to the Second True Archon and waiting for his return to serve him once again."

It took me quite some effort to still my face after hearing that. Just how much free time and loose imagination did these guys have to come up with something like that in just half a day? Anyhow, I tried my best to remain unflappable and blandly stated, "A little plain, but serviceable. What's the third one?"

"Some say that she's one of Archon Polemos's old allies who had also undergone reincarnation and that you left the Migdál every night looking for her. Also, while it might not be entirely relevant to the conversation, I think it would be irresponsible of me if I didn't mention that all three of these theories independently assume that she's your mistress."

Rinne visibly twitched at this moment, prompting Jaakobah to glance at her reaction.

"You have my permission to laugh at that when we're in private," I came to her rescue with a carefully maintained thin-lipped smile, as if I just heard something absurd, and then turned back to the slightly confounded man. "I like the third one. Very dramatic, and doesn't involve politics or a secret society that would make the Directorate get even more paranoid. You have my permission to categorically deny it in public and insist on it being entirely fabricated."

"… Reverse psychology?" Jaakobah whispered with his eyes glazed over, his mind already making all kinds of silly connections no doubt, and then he glanced back at me. "Does that mean it's not the actual truth?"

"Obviously."

"And you are not planning to enlighten me," he stated, not even bothering to make it a question, and before I could respond, he also added, "Plausible deniability."

Instead of saying anything, I flashed a knowing smile, and my Praetorian Prefect nodded along.

"As you command, Lord Archon." He gave me a salute again, this time a bit more gracefully, but then added, "Before I go, I would like to request one vital piece of information."

"Such as?"

"What is her name?"

We glanced at Rinne, and after a long beat, I told him, "For now, you may refer to her as my Arbiter."

"Arbiter?" Jaakobah repeated after me with a frown. "Who is she going to judge?"

"You'll see," I responded with a not-at-all-sinister smirk, and once I set the groundwork like that, I pointed two fingers upwards. "Rise."

I didn't need to say that twice, and less than a second later, Mountain Girl was already on her feet and moved behind me. The Celestial took considerably longer to get up, and once he did, he straightened his outfit and turned to me, awaiting instructions. I didn't let him wait for long.

"Go and get someone to clean up and repair the mess you've made."

"As you command." He waited to see if I had anything else to add, so I figured I might as well do.

"Just to be clear, she answers only to me. She isn't part of the Praetorian Guard, and she won't accept any orders, nor will she give any. Make sure everyone understands that."

Jaakobah nodded, and while his expression was controlled as always, I could see a hint of relief in his eyes. Apparently, he got attached to his newfound authority really fast and was glad to hear he wouldn't need to compete with Mountain Girl over it. Since I had nothing else to say, I dismissed him with a wave, and he wordlessly walked up to the entrance. It was only when he opened the door that I recalled something and stopped him in his tracks.

"One last thing," I spoke with my hand raised. "I want you to look into something for me. Find out everything you can about Udug Blood Amalgams."

Jaakobah gave me a sideways look, hand still on the door handle, and carefully asked, "I am… not entirely familiar with the item in question. Do you require any?"

"No. I only want to know who has access to it, where they got it from, and by what means."

"I'll try my best."

That wasn't an answer that fostered confidence, but I didn't pester him any further, and waved my hand to show that I had nothing else for him. Nodding, he finally left the room, and only when that happened did Rinne let out a weird noise behind me.

"What?" I asked as I turned around, only to see her hold her head in her hands.

"Rinne made a huge mistake!" she moaned, and while at first I thought she was going to remove her helmet, she just kept overdramatically shaking her head.

"You mean, by getting caught by Jaakobah, by starting a fight, or…?"

"No, not that!" she protested and finally faced me properly. "Rinne wasn't paying attention to Rinne's manners, and now people think Rinne is Leonard-dono's mistress!"

"… Was that seriously the only part that made an impression on you?"

"But… But what if the rumors really get out of hand, and reach the outside? Ichiko-neesan will make fun of Rinne forever!" she suddenly stopped, and I could see her face slacken in my mind's eye. "Oh, no! What if Judy-san hears about this? Rinne will be forced to commit hara-kiri!"

I wasn't entirely sure if she was serious, but regardless, I exhaled an exasperated groan and poked her helmet where her forehead would've been.

"Stop being so melodramatic. Judy only keeps doing this whole anti-harem countermeasure thing to tease me. She's not actually serious about it."

Or at the very least not anymore, or so I hoped, but she didn't need to know about all the caveats.

"If Leonard-dono says so…" she grumbled, and followed after me as I returned to the bedroom.

"You messed up the place pretty well," I mused as I stared at the broken bed and the clean cuts on the wall.

"Rinne just came out of the shower, and was startled by the appearance of that man."

She was sulky, but I didn't really mind her, as I was more interested in the damaged walls.

I'd seen those Celestial workers shape whole segments with their weird instruments, and seeing the hard yet porous internal structure behind the plaster reignited my interest in the construction of this 'Migdál' thing. Was the whole tower made of this stuff? Which was more important when shaping it; the material, or the instruments? Was it safe to interact with it?

While I pondered these things, Rinne remained behind me, and after about half a minute, she tentatively spoke up.

"Why was Leonard-dono acting like that?"

Her question finally tore my attention away from the walls and made me raise a brow.

"You mean, my Polemos act?"

"Yes, that's what Rinne meant," she confirmed with a nod, followed by cocking her head to the side. "Why doesn't Leonard-dono show the same leadership quantities back home?"

"It's 'qualities', and…" I paused, just realizing how silly that question was, and fully turned to her. "What the ever-loving heck are you even talking about?"

"Leonard-dono's leadership quantities," she repeated, completely ignoring my correction.

"… Do you mean being overbearing and acting like a petty tyrant?"

"Yes," she confirmed without a hint of hesitation.

"And in your eyes, those are good things," I uttered flatly, and she nodded along.

"Rinne believes so. They show Leonard-dono's subordinates that Leonard-dono is in control and can be trusted."

Should I point out that it was an act? Or ask her why she considered those desirable qualities in a leader? Or should I just facepalm again? The options were endless, but in the end, I decided to mutter a quiet, "Your outlook is unique as always," before shaking my head and levelling a flat stare at her. "We have more important things to discuss."

"Such as how to track down all the rumor-mongers extenuating that Rinne is Leonard-dono's mistress?"

I didn't even try to correct her this time, and only uttered, "Are you still worked up about that?" She remained intensely silent. "No, that's really not that big of a deal. I wanted to discuss something else. Remember how I called you my Arbiter?"

"Rinne was meaning to ask, but what does that mean?" she inquired, cocking her head the other way, and I couldn't help but let a soft chuckle escape my mouth.

"It's something I thought of while I was back home," I paused as I recalled something, and added, "By the way, remind me to go back and pick up the cooler box and the food I ordered later in the evening." I waited for her to nod, and then continued with, "Anyhow, since you're here already, I figured we might as well put your sword to use."

"Onikiri?" she echoed me, and based on her body language, she was just about to say something that would annoy me, so I beat her to the punch.

"If you say something like 'Such as finding all the people gossiping about me and cutting them all down!', I swear to god, I'll personally tell Judy about this whole 'mistress' bullcrap, consequences be damned."

"Rinne… wasn't going to say those words." That was a conspicuously specific denial, but I didn't point it out. "If not that, then what does Leonard-dono refer to?"

Instead of answering, I only smiled at her mysterious (or at least hoped it was so), and glanced at the blade hanging from her waist, its hilt and guard covered in purple cloth. For the longest time, I've been waiting for its truth detector function to become relevant again. After all, having such a seemingly random utility, on a sword no less, was screaming 'future plot device', but since the Narrative never picked up the ball, I figured I might as well do it myself…

PART 2

They say that time flies when in good company, but the same applied to while being busy. It was hard to believe that it's been nearly a week since I took Percival into custody, and in the meantime, my life settled into a predictable rhythm.

In the morning, I would eat breakfast in the Elysium while listening to Jaakobah's reports. Then I would spend the morning pretending to train my Praetorian Guards, followed by a light lunch. In the evening, I would Phase back to the base to pick up supplies and have Fred do some more tests on me to monitor the Polemos memory fragments, after which I would pay a visit to the girls, and then return to the Elysium to spend the night with reading and occasionally signing documents sent my way by the Directorate.

Now, the eagle-eyed probably already noticed the big hole in the schedule during the afternoon, and it was exactly where I was heading at the moment, walking down the corridors of the Migdál's ground floor in my fancy Polemos guise while flanked by the ever-dutiful Mountain Girl and Jaakobah. The latter was holding a clipboard in his hands, and combined with the tiny reading spectacles on his nose and his simplified dress uniform, he looked more like a secretary than the head of my honour guard.

"Whose turn is it today?" I asked absently as we passed by a group of saluting security guards, and he took a glance at the papers on the clipboard before answering.

"According to today's schedule, it's the Justice Department."

"Oh? That's ironic, isn't it?" I said with a hint of a smile, but he apparently didn't get it.

I was tempted to go ahead and explain to him how it was funny that the arbiters and judges of Elysium were about to be judged by our very own Arbiter, but we were already in sight of our destination, so I refrained from doing so. Explaining a joke was bad manners anyway.

In the meantime, we arrived at a small waiting room. Its only entrance opened from the same corridor as the one leading to the Praetorian Guards' barracks, and it was currently filled with about a dozen nervously fidgeting Celestial bureaucrats sitting on some very uncomfortable benches. I ignored them, and the three of us walked past everyone as we headed to the door on the other end of the room.

The chamber on the other side was made to my very exact specification. It was completely empty, save for a plain wooden desk in the middle with a chair behind it facing the entrance, and a simple wooden stool on the other side, a couple of steps further from the table. The walls were covered with light green wallpaper depicting repeating vertical patterns, but tinted in an uncanny shade of yellow by the single lamp embedded into the tiled ceiling. The carpet under our feet was the same, and due to the very carefully engineered corners that just barely weren't at right angles, the whole place gave the impression of looking at a picture taken at a mild Dutch angle. That, combined with the loud buzzing of flickering fluorescent lights (which I had to cheat in with some enchantment-tinkering, because the local lights were normally completely silent), the room gave off an eerie vibe.

That was kind of the point though, and I was already used to it to the point where the ambience didn't bother me at all. The same couldn't be said about our targets though, and after I took a seat behind the desk, and Rinne and Jaakobah occupied their customary spots near me, I raised my voice to call in the next vict— I mean, interviewee.

A second later, a short, middle-aged woman entered the room. She was wearing one of those toga-adjacent ensembles, though without the laurel crowns, and looked extremely uncomfortable. Just as intended.

"Come inside and sit down. We don't have all day," I instructed her and tapped on the desk in front of me.

"Yes, O Archon! Please forgive me!" she squeaked out and hastily sat down onto the stool. I let out an appreciative hum and gestured for Rinne to get working.

Walking over to the Celestial's side, she offered her Onikiri's handle, one thumb firmly pressed against the guard so that it couldn't be pulled out, and nodded, signalling that we could begin.

"Name," I uttered with the same, indifferent tone I had mastered over the past couple of days, and she shuddered in her seat.

"I'm Danit Arkho, Director of the Department of Justice, O Archon!"

After a beat, Rinne nodded, and Jaakobah ticked a box on his clipboard. I waited for him to finish, and then uttered a disinterested, "Very fitting."

"Thank… you?" she muttered, but I ignored her and recited the usual line I'd spoken about a hundred times already.

"I'm going to ask you a series of questions. You answer with either 'Yes', 'No', or 'I Don't Know'. If you try to lie, my Arbiter will know, and so will I. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, O Archon…" she muttered, apparently finding it hard to deal with the pressure. All the better for us.

This whole scene was set up on purpose, just to unnerve and unbalance the people we interro— I mean, interviewed. I knew first-hand how easy it was to circumvent Onikiri's truth detection function with technical truths, but those took some effort to come up with on the spot. That's why I decided to arrange this uncomfortable situation in a creepy environment, stared down by the second coming of their legendary leader and his enigmatic, faceless enforcer. And Jaakobah.

"First question: do you know the square root of sixty-four?"

"… Yes?"

Rinne signalled, Jaakobah noted, and I pressed on.

"Is the sky green?"

"I… No," she responded, and the same process repeated itself.

"How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?"

Her eyes opened wide for a second, and she glanced around the room for a moment before she finally responded in a mousy, barely audible voice, "I-I… don't know."

"Good. Calibrations are complete," I declared while doing my best to keep a straight face and interlinked my fingers on the table. "Here come the real questions. First, are you an Abyssal spy?"

"No!" she protested, audibly outraged, but I didn't really care. I waited until Rinne gave her signal and Jaakobah ticked another box.

"Are you a loyal subject of Elysium?"

"Yes."

"Are you willing to follow all orders of the Directorate without question?"

"Y-Yes," she insisted, though I could hear her voice buckle a bit.

We continued without pause. Most of them were simple questions about whether she had seen anything suspicious, or if she was aware of any Abyssal agents, and other such nonsense. They existed as part of a classic 'hide the needle in the haystack' strategy, so that I could occasionally weave in a few more important inquiries.

"Do you consider the rules Deus set for Celestial society to be perfect and beyond question?"

"Yes!"

I waited for Rinne to nod, and then let out a pent-up breath and nonchalantly waved in their general direction.

"We're done. Thank you for your cooperation. Send in the next person on your way out."

The director let out a relieved breath and pulled her hand away from the sword's hilt, as if she was touching the hot stove, and I couldn't exactly blame her. I could still vividly remember the time Mountain Girl put me to the test in that alley a couple of months ago, and the weird sensation crawling at the back of my mind at the time. That was as far as my empathy went though, and I was already preparing for the next round when I notice the expression on Jaakobah's face.

"You haven't asked all the questions," he told me, and I shrugged in return.

"I asked the important ones," I told him, and when he remained unconvinced, I added, "I have plans for this evening, so I want to wrap this up as soon as possible."

My Praetorian Guard captain blinked and seemed to be hesitant for a moment, but in the end, he resolved himself to ask, "Are you planning to visit Director Savir again?"

"No," I responded flatly. "I visited her quarters once, and you make it sound like it's a regular event."

"That's what the rumors say," he pointed out, earning him a frown. It didn't faze him, and he dully stated, "It's hard to dissuade such speculation, considering your mysterious, frequent, and unscheduled disappearances."

"… I swear, this place has more gossip than in a high-school cheerleader squad's locker room."

"I wouldn't know. I've never been a cheerleader," Jaakobah responded without missing a beat, but before I could call him a smartass, the next contestant poked his head into the room, so I dropped the issue and waved for him to come in.

The rest of the interviews followed the pattern of the first one. Guy comes in, I ask a few warm-up queries, get them wondering why Circe the sorceress sells striped seashells by the seashore, and then ask them the actually important questions interspersed between meaningless ones. Same old, same old.

Thanks to my efforts to speed things up, we made record time and finished questioning everyone by three in the afternoon. Even if I gave myself an hour of leeway for preparations, I still had more than enough time to do everything I planned, and comfortably be back by dinner.

With the last person for the day leaving the room with the poise and dignity of a bat out of hell, I allowed myself to slouch down in my seat for a total of ten seconds before exhaling hard and getting back on my feet.

"Jaakobah? Do the usual." That was referring to him summarizing the data he collected on his clipboard, and he nodded as if that was self-evident. "Also, clear up my schedule for the rest of the afternoon."

"What about your dinner with the Primus or the Director of Military Affairs?"

"I'll attend that," I told him as we walked out the door.

Today was promising to be extra busy, but if everything played out well, it would put us on the fast track to resolve this whole Polemos situation and I could soon return everything to the usual groove. So long as I didn't run into any obstructions, that is. Such as the stern woman waiting for us on the other side of the interrogation room's door.

"Polemos," she greeted me with a restrained voice, and I took all my willpower not to groan.

"Director Savir. What brings you here?" I responded as politely as my Polemos character would allow, but it only caused her brows to descend into a frown and gesture at the waiting room around us.

"I thought I was very clear when I told you I do not appreciate my people being questioned," she told me straight, calling back to an argument we had during one of the meetings I was forced to attend.

"Yes. And I believe I told you I would consider your words." She narrowed her eyes even further, and pointedly glanced at the Director of Justice, awkwardly shuffling her feet nearby. I followed her gaze, then turned back to her and added, "I considered them, and decided to ignore them."

"You did," she hissed, obviously displeased by the challenge of her authority.

"Indeed." I stood my ground and met her eyes, tit for tat. "When I said I would test every single official of the Directorate, I meant every. single. one. No exceptions."

Her expression remained frosty, but at least she reeled back her emotions and asked, "Are these tests really necessary?"

"I wouldn't waste my time with them if they weren't."

She exhaled a soft huff, and after a few seconds of silence, she told me, "Maybe we should discuss this topic in private. I'm free this evening."

I was only a hair's breadth away from facepalming at that. I mean, come on, woman! It's careless remarks like these why I've had to play whack-a-mole with all kinds of weird rumours ever since I first put my foot in this god-forsaken nest of gossipy vipers, and I didn't appreciate her adding fuel to the fire.

"I already have plans. Maybe another day."

That obviously displeased her, but I couldn't muster the effort to care, as I just noticed a purple toga in the distance, and was desperate to get away before I would get bogged down in the crossfire between two of the Chief directors. It had happened more times than I cared to count already, and I wasn't going to let them drain away the free time I saved up by rushing today's interrogations.

"Talk to my Praetorian Prefect. He's in charge of my schedule; he can tell you when I'm available."

Before either of them could protest, I turned on my heel, and walked down the corridor, with Rinne closely following behind me. Once we turned a corner, I headed inside an empty room and gestured for her to slip into my shadow before I promptly Phased back to my quarters. Thanks to marking the majority of the Celestials living or working in the tower, I could more or less freely teleport to any floor, though the density of the red dots in the vicinity made it a little harder to pinpoint people from time to time.

But putting that aside, the moment we arrived, Mountain Girl jumped out of my shadow and let out an exhausted groan as she took off her helmet.

"Rinne is tired."

"I can imagine," I told her and pointed in the vague direction of the bedroom. "Go, grab some snacks. I'll be switching out the cooler boxes tonight, so there's no need to be frugal."

I didn't need to say that twice, and she immediately left the living room. Speaking of which, since we had the construction workers over to fix the damage the skirmish between Rinne and Jaakobah caused, I asked them to remodel the rest of my quarters as well, and after the conference table got replaced by a few comfy couches and a coffee table, it finally started to feel like an actual living room. I also had one corner turned into a separate study room, where I got my daily reading and paperwork done, but that was beside the point.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Anyhow, once I was alone, I threw myself onto the aforementioned sofa and allowed myself a ten-minute break. All things considered, things were proceeding rather smoothly. I was done interrogating about two-thirds of the Directors and their immediate circle, with only the military branch remaining. As for the home front, Sir Percival's disappearance was kept under wraps until very recently, and the reason why I was about to act personally was related to that. Even so, while there was some friction with the Assembly, thanks to the concerted efforts of Naoren and Lord Grandpa, things remained remarkably stable over there.

All of that considered, I was ready to put my plans into motion and start the snowball that would inevitably lead to all kinds of unforeseen consequences (as always), yet there was a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that I couldn't quite silence. It wasn't a premonition, or even a gut feeling, but more of a… how should I put this? A sense of incongruity would be the best way to say it.

I felt I was missing the big picture. Not the 'Celestial' big picture, with all the factions and individual agendas, nor the 'Critias' big picture, with the Draconic Federation and the Assembly, but the 'Simulacrum' big picture. So far, there had always been a plot the world tried to adhere to. It was an emergent phenomenon. For the average inhabitant of the world, everything made internal sense, but the deeper one looked, the more obvious the fingerprints of some kind of weird orchestrator became.

The same was the case here, with my kidnapping-in-name-only and the whole Polemos memory transfer thing, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find the actual plot. In particular, while I was neck-deep in this whole mess, our resident protagonist was still completely absent. When I discussed this with Judy and the princess, my dear assistant's idea was that we were still in the 'honeymoon period' of the Angie route, where the two of them would act lovey-dovey and carefree before the other shoe drops and kickstarts the melodrama.

That sounded nice on paper, but it didn't bring me any closer to the answer to this simple question: what's the second shoe in this tortured allegory? And how was I supposed to avoid it? Or better yet, avoid dropping it myself by accident, if I had no idea what it was about? Was the main plot supposed to be about the Celestial civil war? Deus's return? The conflict between the Federation and the Assembly? Or heaven forbid, that love-triangle crap Judy theorized? Hell, as far as I knew, it could've been all of the above, at the same time, with little green space aliens on top!

"To think I would live to see the day when I'd miss the simplicity of Fred's faux-sentai shenanigans…" I grumbled while massaging my temples, and with a deep breath, I lurched back onto my feet and undid the Leoformer's transformation so that I was back to the simple white ensemble I usually wrote in private.

Rolling my shoulders, I turned towards the bedroom and raised my voice.

"What's the time?"

There was a bit of a commotion on the other side, no doubt Rinne looking for her phone, and then she called back, saying, "It's half past three."

"I guess I'll get going then," I told her, and once she let out a grunt I interpreted as acknowledgement, I closed my eyes, and focused on the dock-district hideout. We put it off until now, waiting for him to recover a bit, but I had a feeling it was only a question of time before the runaway train of our life started picking up speed again, so it was high-time we finally got around to interrogate our dear old Uncle Percy.

PART 3

No matter how I looked at it, our makeshift dungeon was living up to its namesake quite admirably. The air of the chamber was stale and smelling faintly of urine, thanks to the authentic wooden bucket latrine in the corner of the only 'cell' in use.

Unfortunately, the torches had to go, as while they really helped to tie the ambience of the place together, without any windows to the outside and only a single vent, carbon-dioxide buildup became an issue. As such, while they didn't really fit the aesthetics, I had the Fauns use a pair of standing lamps Raven Boy bought at a local thrift store, currently sitting in the far corners.

They were called 'mogul lamps' if Morgana was to be trusted, and each one of them had four separate bulbs under large, floral-print shades. They might not have fit the theme of the room, but at the very least the lighting they provided was more than adequate.

More importantly, a dungeon was nothing without a prisoner, and ours was currently sitting on the very same bed he used in the Dracis mansion.

Everyone's favourite Uncle Percy had seen better days. His hair and beard were frizzled and still mottled with dried-up blood. His face, while less swollen than the last time I'd seen him, was covered in bruises, and while Cal's focused healing efforts somehow reset his broken nose, it remained slightly crooked. He was also still wearing the same blue bathrobe he had on him when I kidnapped him from the mansion, though by this point it was considerably less fluffy than it used to be.

The time in captivity also had a visible toll on him. His eyes were dull and his cheeks sullen, and while I wasn't exactly feeling sorry for him, I had to admit that he was quite depressing to look at. That didn't last long though, as the moment the only door leading into the room opened, his eyes regained their focus and he immediately assumed his harmless old man façade, only for it to instantly crumble when he his gaze landed on the girl in the doorway.

"You…?" he hissed as he got up from the bed and turned to face his interrogator.

"Good afternoon, Sir Percival," Snowy purred in a low voice, and with a single wave of her hand, Hrul and Rabom left the room. "I hope you don't mind if I won't call you Uncle Percy, considering the… circumstances."

She flashed a disarming smile, and slowly sauntered towards the old man's cell, causing me to let out a shallow groan in the next room. I told her not to overdo it, because I knew that the whole 'vamp' thing made her uncomfortable, but by the looks of it, she decided to go the full mile. At least I could convince her out of using her Abyssal form, since even after our concerted efforts to make it less stripperific, it was still far from modest.

She was wearing her Magiformer school uniform instead, as it allowed her to access the brunt of her powers without looking like a dominatrix. After the upgrades, it also provided marginally more protection, so I would've probably insisted on her wearing it anyway. While I was fairly sure that Percival didn't pose any real threat to her without his gear, and I had the Fauns do a full body search on him to make sure he didn't have any more poison or other items stashed on his body, it never hurt to be careful around a conniving old fox like him.

Snowy came to a halt on the other side of the bars, just out of arm's reach, and she had a confident smile on her face that didn't quite touch her cold eyes. On the other side, Percival was visibly on guard, but at the same time he also put up a strong front and approached her with a displeased frown.

"I knew it. You were working for Bel of the Abyss from the very beginning, weren't you?"

My sister cocked her head to the side, her smile gaining a slightly amused bend, and she wiggled her finger in front of her chest.

"Tsk-tsk. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Sir Percival. I'm afraid you won't be the one to ask the questions today."

"What? Are you here to interrogate me?" The old man scoffed and defiantly crossed his arms.

"And what if I am?" she asked back with a sultry voice, and Percy let out another scoff.

"You're a bit young for my tastes. If you want to seduce me, come back in a decade."

That comment made Snowy blink in surprise, but it didn't knock her out of her act, and she raised a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"Oh my, Sir Percival. You might think that now, but it's not wise to underestimate the charms of an Abyssal Seducer." Using the same hand, she extended a finger in his direction and made an odd swirling motion with it. "Do you want to bet how long it will take to wrap you around my pinky?"

"I'm trained to resist your mind games, witch," the old bastard growled, accompanied by a glare that could make water boil faster. "Stop playing around and tell me what you want."

Snowy paused for a moment and then assumed a more neutral pose, apparently switching tactics on the fly.

"Everything you know," she said in the same purring timbre, though this time it was hiding a steely undertone. "I want to know about your mission, your collaborators, what you know about your Celestial masters, and why you betrayed my brother."

That last one wasn't in the script, but if she wanted to improvise, I wasn't going to blame her.

"Your brother?" Percival echoed her with an incredulous expression, seemingly holding back the urge to laugh out loud. "Stop with the pretences, little missy."

"There's no pretense in my words, Sir Percival," Snowy emphasized with a hint of a glare, and when the old man continued to leer at her, she wiggled the fingers of her right hand in a complex motion and made a wave in his direction. Without warning, about two dozen thin and sharp icicles formed on the bars, all of them shooting out towards the startled old man. They stopped midway, but it still caused him to stagger back and stare at my sister with a mixture of surprise and outrage, which turned into unease as she coldly stated, "Leonard is my family. My only family. If it was up to me, I would have ended your miserable existence for selling him out, but fortunately for you, you're worth more alive than dead."

"That was unexpected," Percival responded a tad shakily, but he quickly readjusted his robes and lightly poked at one of the icicles. "Nice trick you've got here, missy. Must be really convenient for making ice cubes. Have you ever thought about making a career in bartending?" I immediately recognized this as a Refuge in Audacity tactic, and it bought him enough time to catch his breath and collect his thought. Once he rebalanced himself, he flicked the same icicle and aimed a frown at the girl on the other side of the bars and lowered his voice. "You speak of 'betrayal' and 'selling out', but does your precious 'brother' know about your allegiance to Bel of the Abyss?"

He probably hoped to use the question to unbalance her, but Snowy remained calm and flippantly answered with, "Of course."

"He… what?"

"Why so surprised, Sir Percival?" she pressed on, breaking out the seductress voice again. "Did you perhaps think that little old me was scheming behind my brother's back?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I thought," he admitted, and his eyes remained glued to her face. "It seems Leonard was much closer allied to Bel of the Abyss than I ever considered."

"There's so much you don't know," Snowy continued with a conceited smirk and punctuated it with a derisive chuckle.

"And what do you know?" Percival scoffed back, visibly agitated. "I raised the boy. I know him better than anyone."

"Do you truly? Are you still under the impression that you are well-informed? That you perfectly understand the people around you and their motivations? That the Celestials holding your leash can be trusted?" Snowy bombarded him with a series of questions, and delivered the coup de grace with a much more subdued, "Do you even know what happened to my brother after you betrayed him?"

Percival remained quiet for a moment, but then his expression eased up and he answered, "He should be in Elysium… but I'm sure you already know that."

"Of course. But do you know what he's doing there?" she asked back, and I had to admit, the way he baited the old man was fun to watch.

"He's getting his memories restored," he stated, and when Snowy shook her head, he immediately doubled down. "Director Mensah himself assured me of this, and I would've noticed if he lied. I've known the man since he was just a trainee agent."

"Oh, I'm sure you're very confident in your people skills, Sir Percival," my Abyssal sister purred and leaned forward to strike a provocative pose. "But what if he wasn't lying to you but simply not telling the whole truth?"

"Just spit it out," the old bastard blurted out and pointedly avoided meeting her gaze, causing Snowy to giggle. I could already see a thin thread of magical light forming between the two of them, which meant she already opened the back door to his psyche. I wasn't really happy about that, but she promised me that she would cut the connection the moment the interrogation was over.

"Have you ever heard of Polemos, the Second True Archon?"

The question made immediately turned Percival's head, and for a few seconds he only blinked uncomprehendingly.

"I've… yes, I've come across the name a few times. Some kind of ancient peer of Deus, and…" His words trailed into silence, and then his face slackened as he began to connect the dots. "Is this related to Leonard and his memories?"

"Naturally."

The elderly Knight fell silent again, his thoughts ultimately congealing into a small soliloquy.

"So, what you're trying to imply is that Polemos, just like Deus, has a second advent, and it is Leonard. And the reason why the Celestial Intelligence Network was so eager to take him into custody wasn't to reassert control over the Draconic Federation, or to learn more about Bel of the Abyss, but to ensure his return. And the memories Mensah was talking about weren't Leonard's own, but this Second True Archon's?"

As usual, the man was pretty quick on the uptake, and while it surprised Snowy, she quickly adapted to the situation.

"How does it feel to be the one to be kept in the dark and betrayed for once? It's not very nice, is it? Your Celestial friends lied to you, used you, and then ignored you in favour of their own agendas. It would be sad if it wasn't so ironic."

"Yes, go ahead. Keep laughing," the old man griped, even though my sister wasn't even smiling. "I presume the reason why you allied yourself with Bel of the Abyss was so that you could get him back." He paused and crossed his arms, levelling an intense gaze at Snowy. "While he's certainly powerful, I'm sure breaking into Elysium and kidnapping a VIP is beyond even his reach."

"What is or isn't in his reach is none of your concern," my Abyssal sister stated and tried to change the flow of the conversation, but the old man didn't relent.

"No, I believe it is. You want me dead. You said so yourself. Yet, I'm still breathing, and you are bothering to interrogate me so long after I was taken captive." Percival uncrossed his arms and pointed a finger at the girl on the other side of the bars. "That means you need me, or at the very least you need my knowledge."

Once again, the old bastard was vastly overestimating his value. However, instead of denying his words, Snowy pretended to flinch and averted her eyes.

"I hit the nail on the head, didn't I?" Percival grinned, grabbing at the small sense of control her reaction gave him like a drowning man grabbing at straws. "I already told Bel of the Abyss that I'm willing to make a deal, and now I have even more of a reason."

"State your terms," Snowy responded at once, causing the old man's smile to widen even further.

"Aren't you too eager, little missy?"

"I just… want my brother back," she responded, sounding genuinely pained, and with that, the grin on the old man's face got just a little dampened. Did she just pull a Wounded Gazelle Gambit on the old bastard? Nice.

"Now, now. Believe it or not, we're on the same side, at least in this matter," he told her, lapsing into his affable grandpa persona. "I want to see Leonard safe and sound just as much as you do."

"Then why did you betray him?"

While the words themselves appeared accusatory, the way she delivered them sounded more confused than anything, and even a blind man could've seen that she was setting him up for a monologue. Percival didn't, and whether that was because of her magical influence or his own hubris was an academic question we didn't have the time to delve into at the moment.

"I didn't betray him, I tried to help him," the old man protested and exhaled an annoyed grunt. "I asked my contacts in the Celestial Intelligence Network if they had the means to recover lost memories, and they immediately gave me a positive answer. In retrospect, I should've realized something was off back then and there. They were never so eager to provide support before."

"So they used you," Snowy pointed out, and it made him flinch, though it was almost imperceptible. "They wanted to get their hand on Leo, and you provided them the means and the excuse."

"Yes, it certainly seems like it," Percival grumbled, and she hit the iron while it was hot.

"That means the one who got betrayed was you, after all."

"Yes, you… I guess you're right," Percival nodded, his expression looking a bit lost, as if he had a hard time believing he was saying that.

"You said you want to help Leo as much as I do," Snowy pleaded as she stepped closer to the bars, and with a wave of her hand, she dispelled the icicles still clinging to the iron. "If you weren't lying, then I implore you to tell me everything you know."

"I…" Percival hesitated, but ultimately shook his head and exhaled hard. "No. I said I'm willing to make a deal, not to divulge information for free."

"Then tell me what you want."

He looked around the cell, his eyes lingering on the bucket in the corner, and looked my sister in the eyes, "I'm sure that you can't let me go, so how about some better accommodations, for a start?"

"We can arrange that," Snowy responded with a relieved smile, further baiting the old man.

"Also, some real food. Not this canned crap." That seemed to be the end of it, but then he hurriedly added, "And protection."

"From the Celestials?"

"From everyone," he stressed. "At least until Leonard comes back to clear things up."

The fact that he had this unwavering trust in me would've been heartwarming, if it didn't also make my stomach turn. As for my sister, she remained silent and crossed her arms while simultaneously massaging her temple.

"That's reasonable," she nodded along and gestured his way. "Now, I would like to hear what you can offer in return."

"I can give you names," he answered without missing a beat. "Agents and collaborations on the island. Draconians, Magi, as well as civilians. I have a whole list hidden away, but I can recall the most important ones from memory. I can also share what I know about the current plans of Director Mensah and what I was supposed to do in Leonard's absence."

"That's a start," Snowy nodded and looked at the man expectantly.

They locked eyes for a few long seconds, and at last, Percival let out a long sigh and launched into a long and detailed elaboration of the above-mentioned topics. Snowy listened closely, though I could see her tune in and out of focus as he went into excruciating details. That said, I couldn't pay much attention to her, as I was busy dividing my attention between listening in on them and taking notes.

In the end, this first info-drop lasted for about twenty minutes, and while I didn't learn much new, having secondary sources was never a bad thing, and the names could be cross-referenced with the Celestial Hub's database later. In any case, once he deemed that he talked for long enough, Percival crossed his arms and set his mouth into a thin line.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Snowy purred, harkening back to her initial demeanour, and the old bastard scoffed at her and turned his head to the side, like a pouting child.

"Instead of your words, I would rather appreciate if you kept your side of the bargain."

"Of course," my sister flashed a full-faced smile and gestured towards the door. "I'll make sure to tell my Fauns to make your stay a little more comfortable." Saying so, she turned on her heels, only to glance over her shoulder and add, "I'll come to talk with you again once we verified what you told us."

"If you want me to tell you I'll look forward to it, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

Instead of responding, Snowy let out a soft giggle and walked to the door, hips swaying like she was on a catwalk in a fashion show. However, the moment she was out of the room, she let out a pent-up breath, her body language completely changed, and she made a series of complex gestures, which caused the thin line connecting her to Percival to snap like a fishing line trying to reel in an orca.

In the meantime, I also returned to my body and mirrored my sister's actions by exhaling a long sigh and rolling my shoulders.

"Are they done, your majesty?" Morgana inquired on my side, and as if to respond to her question, Snowy entered the room, looking downright exhausted.

"Great work," I praised her as I stood up and gestured for her to come over to my side.

"Um… I think I could've done better, but I didn't want to be too forceful…"

"Nonsense. You played him like a fiddle," I told her and rubbed her noggin.

"But… he didn't say anything we didn't already know…" my sister sulked, so I took things a step further and pulled her into a hug.

"You did well, sis. Nobody expected you to pull every single secret out of him on your first try."

"I know, I just…"

I patted her back for emphasis, and she fell silent, seemingly enjoying the physical contact. It also drew out various responses from the people around us.

The Fauns and Morgana seemed to find us wholesome. Raven Boy was looking at me like I was some kind of weird space alien, but to be fair, I never expected better from him. As for Roland…

"If you showed half this much affection to Penelope, we could've avoided her developing half of her complexes."

"Hey. I'm trying, all right?" I protested, which my Abyssal sister found amusing enough to stifle a giggle over.

"What now?" Agrawain cut in with a frown, and after some consideration, I shrugged.

"If you meant Percival, give him some clean clothes and order him a takeout or something."

"Yes, I meant him, but I wasn't talking about that," Raven Boy protested and animatedly gestured towards the door. "You just said you couldn't learn anything new, so why are we still keeping him captive."

"Don't put the cart before the horse," I said and let go of my sister. "For now, he only talked about things directly related to my kidnapping and the state of the island. What we actually want to know is just how entrenched the Celestials were in the Brotherhood, and how much you guys were influenced, but that'll take a bit more softening up. Right, sis?"

"Y-Yes. I found the best way to open him up, but if I wanted to learn about his past actions, I would need at least two or three more sessions like this."

"Just keep at it," I told her, stroked her head again, and then turned back to Raven Boy.

"As for the other answer to your 'What now?' question…" This time, I faced Roland and said, "We'll have to let the rest of the world know that I'm alive and well, so I'll go and get my props, and see you at the meeting."

Our Sir Griffon's face tensed up for a second, and then slacked just as abruptly as he uttered, "Please, don't overdo it."

"Don't worry. Just stick to the script, and everything's going to be juuust fine."

And with those final words, I Phased out of the room to prepare for my next performance.

PART 4

Over the last couple of months, I have developed a deep and profound respect for stage magicians.

It was an impressive art form, and on this point, I believe most would readily agree with me, but at the same time, it wasn't viewed with the same kind of prestige as, say, a Broadway actor, or a ballet dancer. Maybe because the profession was simultaneously associated with Las Vegas casinos and children's birthday parties at the same time?

Whatever the case might have been, the craft hit a chord with me. The reasons behind that were many, but if I had to give a simple one, it was because I felt a sense of kinship. After all, the stage magician's work was an art that required meticulous planning, tireless practice, custom-made props, as well as a well-prepared stage, all in the name of making the audience have no choice but to believe the impossible. It was maybe the purest form of deception; a marriage of honed sleight of hand and bombastic showmanship taken to the very limit.

In that sense, maybe I already was a stage magician, except my stage was neither in a casino nor in some kid's backyard.

"Please, everyone. Calm down," Naoren addressed the small crowd inside the spacious conference room of the Dracis mansion.

After the Draconic Federation became an official organization, its governing body, the Draconic Council, required a meeting place, where they could discuss and vote on administrative and legislative matters. Needless to say, the patriarchs already put plans into motion to erect a brand-new building in Critias solely dedicated to this function, but while it was scheduled to start construction in the spring, they had to do with this chamber.

Of course, that didn't mean that these highly esteemed and not at all pretentious Draconian family heads and elders would be satisfied by holding their oh-so-important meetings in a 'mundane' conference room. Oh, no sir. They had to uphold their prestige, their importance, and their inherent 'je ne sais quoi', and doing that by sitting over a big table wasn't enough. They needed to have something more.

And as such, the 'humble' conference room of the estate was remodelled in record time and got turned into a miniature version of a parliament building's assembly hall, complete with multiple rows of curved benches arranged into a semi-circle facing an elevated platform. All of that, plus the wall panels and even the ceiling, were made of lacquered hardwood, richly carved with a mixture of Eastern and Western motifs, including depictions of the two kinds of dragons. The biggest and most eye-catching of those was the relief on the pulpit in the center, which had an enormous depiction of a long-necked, winged western dragon on the left and a coiling eastern dragon with a thick mane and deer horn on the right, their tails meeting and intertwining in the middle. Very symbolic. Much wow.

But enough about architecture; let's focus on the events unfolding.

"How are we supposed to stay calm in this situation?" one of the younger members of the Draconic Council (the new patriarch of the Mongolian families, if my memory served right) exclaimed with clear indignation. He pointed at the man standing behind the pulpit, just in front of the elevated area where Naoren, Abram, Arnwald, and a few other senior members of the Draconic Federations top brass were seated. "How come this is the first time we've heard of this?"

The person at the pulpit, namely, everyone's favourite Sir Roland, levelled a flat gaze at the accusatory finger pointed his way and blandly stated, "As I have already told the esteemed Council, we wanted to keep the disappearance of Sir Percival secret until we could fully discern what happened to him."

"Did you know about this, Sir Arnwald?" the matriarch of the Albion family inquired from the Knight sitting on her right, and our Sir Eagle barely stifled an annoyed groan.

"Yes, I was aware. Naturally." Her eyes remained fixed on him, and so were the rest of the Council's (plus the guests', but we'll get back to that later), so he was compelled to elaborate. "Due to certain intelligence we received shortly after our liege's disappearance, Sir Percival's account of the events came under scrutiny. We wished to interrogate him further once he further recovered, but our plans were foiled due to his sudden and inexplicable vanishing."

Needless to say, Arnwald wasn't aware of my involvement as Bel, and as such, he was here to serve as someone with plausible deniability. Roland, on the other hand, had a much more involved role in the events to come.

Speaking of him, he raised his voice to follow up on the previous comment and said, "Since we couldn't be sure whether he escaped the mansion on his own upon realizing that he was under suspicion, or if a third party was involved in his disappearance, the Ordo Draconis unanimously ruled to keep the incident confidential until we concluded our investigation into the matter. It was to avoid any needless rumors or panic."

"It would create some nasty gossip, wouldn't it?" a new voice noted with a clear sense of schadenfreude, and it was followed up by a low hiss.

"Shut your gob, you lout. We're in public."

"Both of you, please stay quiet," a third, familiar voice chided them both, coming from the mouth of an especially exasperated Lord Grandpa, sitting in the front row of the assembly hall along with four new-ish faces. I was familiar with all of them through Far Sight, but as far as I knew, this was the first time they showed up in force like this.

From left to right, we had our usual Lord Grandpa, looking slightly more exhausted than usual. Next to him sat Lord Barnabas, a dark-skinned man with a prim-and-proper black suit instead of the usual robes. Next to him, Lord Ambrose, a stout and rotund Magi dressed like an over-achieving wizard player at a LARP event, complete with a staff and bushy beard, was still silently bickering with the lanky man on his other side. Lord Gulliver was dressed in a blue academic gown that hung loosely on his bony frame, providing a strong contrast with his fiery red hair. Last, but not least, there sat a middle-aged woman in an elaborate white dress robe, complete with laced long gloves, as if to complement her raven-black hair woven into a thick braid. While Lord Taika certainly seemed elegant at first glance, the sour expression on her face said she absolutely didn't want to be here.

"I would like to ask the Assembly delegation to kindly restrain themselves," Dad-in-law called out to them, and the dark-skinned man immediately stood up and gave him a shallow bow.

"I wish to apologize in the stead of my esteemed colleagues, patriarch. Please find it in your heart to overlook their transgression."

"Don't grovel, you fool!" the bearded Magi hissed, and the hitherto diplomatic Lord Barnabas turned a critical eye at the bearded man.

"This is a diplomatic mission. Is it too much to ask to uphold the bare minimum of decorum, Lord Ambrose?"

"Are you sure you want him to answer that?" the lanky man who started this whole intermezzo whispered between chuckles, causing Lord Ambrose to focus on him again.

"Why did I accept this mission…?" the lady in the far end muttered in a dejected voice and propped up her head with three fingers on her forehead.

"Please do not mind us," Lord Grandpa spoke up next and gestured for Lord Barnabas to sit down. "We are only here to observe this meeting, and Lord Gulliver overstepped his boundaries by commenting on the proceedings. It will not happen again."

"I understand that, but…" Naoren spoke up next, and after looking over the five senior arch-mages, each of them roughly the diplomatic equivalent of sending an aircraft carrier to the negotiations, he let out a disappointed sigh.

Maybe because the Assembly was considered to be the de-facto superpower of the supernatural world, he expected them to be more professional, but bearing in mind that I was already exposed to our perma-scheming local arch-mage, as well as Saahira/Sahi… Let's just say that my evaluation of the Magi in general, and arch-mages in particular, was already under the bottom of the barrel, so their behaviour could hardly surprise me.

"Let us return to the discussion we started," Roland spoke up, ignoring the still bickering Lord Ambrose and Lord Gulliver in the background, and he faced the heads of the Council on the platform. "As of this moment, Sir Percival's whereabouts are unknown, but considering that his room was also missing a bed, we are currently working under the assumption that a third party was involved in his disappearance."

"Please, hold on. Did you say his bed also disappeared?" Lord Grandpa cut in, contradicting his previous declaration, but nobody seemed to mind.

"Indeed," Arnwald responded before Roland could. "Is there something about this detail that's bothering you, Lord Endymonion?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes," the old man answered and patted down his neatly trimmed beard. "I have some experience with mysteriously vanishing furniture, so I feel obliged to ask; have you ascertained that the bed in question is truly missing, or may be hidden by an illusion?"

"An illusion spell?" Lord Taika perked up at the mention of it, and she looked intrigued for the first time since she entered the assembly hall. "It could certainly be done, but even if the physical form of the item is hidden, it should be easily discovered by touch or a simple dispelling incantation."

"I have shared your sentiment in the past, Lord Taika, but my personal experiences tell me that sufficiently advanced illusions may fool not only your five senses but your very perception of reality and memories of it. We should not dismiss the possibility so easily."

"If so…" All of a sudden, Lord Barnabas stood up again and gave another bow towards the elevated area. "I would like to formally request the Council to allow us to inspect the scene of the crime. Lord Taika is rather famous for her expertise in the field of applied illusion spellcraft, and with her help, we may help discover clues the Ordo Draconis could have overlooked."

Naoren didn't seem convinced, but he still glanced over to Arnwald, and after a long beat, our senior Knight let out a beholden hum.

"We would certainly appreciate any support you could provide us to discover the whereabouts of Sir Percival. Let us discuss the details after this meeting."

"Thank you."

With that, Lord Barnabas sat down, and Roland spoke up, trying to stick to the script for the third time.

"With all due respect to the Assembly delegation, while I also welcome any assistance you could provide, I'm afraid you won't find any traces of illusions in Sir Percival's room."

"What makes you say that?" another voice called out, this time the older Smok brother sitting in the second row to the right.

"We already have a culprit in mind, and his involvement would easily explain the strange case of the missing bed as well."

Oh, that was my cue! I quickly rolled my shoulders, made sure the enchantments on my mini-shoggoth secured mask were working properly, and after giving a thumbs up to Karukk and Vurrok, I Phased to the back of the assembly hall and quietly occupied one of the empty seats. I took a deep breath, and let the familiar sense of pre-performance tension wash over me before I leaned back on the bench and clapped my hands.

"Don't keep us in suspense, old chap!" I exclaimed, my voice slightly amplified to make sure it would carry over the background buzz of the noisy chamber. "Who's this covert crib-crook? This malevolent mattress-marauder? This baneful baldachin-brigand? Oh, the anticipation is killing me!"

The confused silence following in the wake of my interruption was palpable. Once the initial shock passed, some of the Draconian representatives sitting in my general vicinity jumped to their feet and backed off, like a bunch of antelopes who just realized they were lounging about right next to a lion. As for me, I remained still and locked eyes with Roland on the pulpit.

Our Sir Griffon's face feigned surprise, but his eyes were saying 'What took you this long?'. I had no idea why though; we had a script, and I was sticking to it. As I alluded to before, a stage magician's performance was difficult, and it often required them to 'cheat' a little for maximum effect. Such as planting collaborators into the crowd. However, for the trick to work and fool everyone, both sides had to perform their jobs as rehearsed, and while I could understand Roland's impatience, considering his surroundings, rushing things was off the table from the start.

Once we let my presence ripple through the room, I dramatically glanced around and uttered a confused, "What? You all act like you've never seen me before! How rude!"

"Bel of the Abyss."

Roland's words made everyone tense up, and I used the opportunity to focus on him again.

"I'm glad you recognize me, Sir Roland! I mean, how can anyone forget a handsome face like this!" I raised both hands and pointed at my mask, and after holding the pose for a second, I abruptly snapped my finger. "Hooold on a second! Did you just answer my previous question?"

Before Roland could respond, I leaned forward in my seat, so that when I Phased over to the front of the Council, I would land on my feet and could stand tall right away. For further emphasis, I raised my hands again and made three measured claps.

"Good job! You figured it out! I'd give you a cookie, but I ran out of those on the way here. Moving through dimensional barriers makes me mighty peckish!"

"So it was you!" Arnwald exclaimed and automatically donned his Uniformer, though since he had no weapon, it was mostly for show. I hoped. His attacking me wasn't factored into the script. "What have you done to Sir Percival, fiend!?"

"Now, now. Don't get your panties in a twist, Sir Chicken-With-Good-Publicity. He's still alive and well. Mostly well." I punctuated that by pinching my chin and tilting my head. "Also, mostly alive. Or at least he was the last time I checked. He's kinda old, you know?"

"Enough with this!" Naoren burst out, and although this wasn't part of the performance, I more or less expected something like this to happen. "For what reason did you kidnap him?"

"Oh, you must be Naoren Feilong!" I exclaimed and pointed a pair of finger guns at him. "I've heard a lot about you from the kid! Mostly along the lines of 'Don't kill him for a joke!' and 'Seriously, don't!'. Hah! He's so funny, thinking he can tell me what I can do! Such a riot!"

"Sir Patriarchs, let me handle this," Roland cut in and showed his palm to the group on the platform, and after sharing a glance, Naoren stood down, dad-in-law folded his arms, and even Arnwald took his seat again. Nodding, Roland turned back to me and said, "The Feilong Patriarch's question was valid. Why did you take Sir Percival?"

"And his bed!" Lord Gulliver interjected on the side, only to receive an elbow into his guts by Lord Ambrose and keel over.

By the looks of it, the five Assembly representatives decided to wait and observe the situation unfold for now, which suited my needs. As such, I ignored them for the time being and focused on Roland.

"Oh, come on, Sir Griffon! You're smarter than that! I'm sure you must've figured it out by now!"

There was a customary pause in the conversation to let the audience digest what was happening, and then he answered, "You have taken him to find out about the whereabouts of Leonard."

"You see! I knew you had it in you!" I exclaimed and lowered my center of gravity so that when I Phased right above the pulpit, I landed sitting on it. I've been perfecting this trick ever since I first used it to bamboozle the Knights in their little hideout, and I've been getting pretty good at it. Once I was seated stably, I crossed my legs, and rested my chin on my fist before continuing in a more serious voice, "You know, I have said this so many times, but the only thing I want is for my island to stay nice and stable while I do my own things and take care of my own business. Imagine how miffed I was when I come back from my customary bullying of the space-time-continuum, just to hear that the kid was kidnapped by Abyssals! Except, you know, I would know about something like that, so I figured there was something more afoot! A conspiracy!"

Pausing, I turned around on top of the pulpit to face Roland again.

"You know, I love a good conspiracy, but only when I'm involved. Otherwise, I can never know if they are real or not. Like this one time, I spent two weeks trying to find those famous reptilian alien overlords I've heard so much about, only for it to turn out to be just some tall tale by a Great Depression era crook and made popular by a bunch of image compression artifacts! I tell you, my disappointment was immeasurable, and my day was ruined!" I let out a loud huff, and then a long beat later I cocked my head to the side and asked, "What were we talking about?"

"Sir Percival," Roland said in a tone that told me he thought I was overdoing it, but I had a brand to uphold, so I summarily ignored him and let out an amused noise.

"Ah, right! That guy!" Jumping off the pulpit, this time I Phased to the back of the room, and turned on the voice amplification on my mask again, so that everyone could hear me as I began pacing. "You see, I figured he was up to no good, so I borrowed him for a while to ask him a few pertinent questions, which led me to some Abyssals, who then pointed me in the direction of some Celestials, and then I finally found the kid!"

"You know where Leonard Dunning is right now?" Yseult, the representative of the Albions, called out to me, and while I normally would've been annoyed by this kind of interruption, Roland was supposed to ask the same thing to keep the act going, so I decided to just roll with it.

"Of course I do! Why else do you think I'm here? You think just any fool can ask me to make a delivery for them and expect their head to remain attached to the rest of their body?" I stopped in my tracks and pinched my chin, musing, "Now that I think about it, he's totally taking advantage of me, isn't he? Shouldn't have promised him that I won't kill him. I should've been more specific, like telling him that I wouldn't throw him off a bridge. That would've left me with more wriggling room."

Another beat later, I Phased to the middle of the room again and clapped, then waited for everyone to turn to me again.

"A-ny-how! I'm not going to explain myself. I'll let the kid do that. I'll just…" While muttering so, I theatrically patted down my petty coat and turned out my pockets. "Aw hell, I forgot something. I'll be right back, don't go anywhere!"

Without waiting for the reaction, I immediately Phased back to the dockyard hideout and lifted off my mask. As I did, Vurrok was already holding out an open bottle of water for me, and I downed it more or less in one go. Hydration was important, but not as vital as the box in Karukk's hands, and after I emptied the bottle and put the mask back on, I grabbed it and gave them another thumbs up.

A second later, I was already back in the noisy assembly hall, and to announce my presence, I raised the small, black wooden box over my head, and smashed it down onto the pulpit in front of me, making the majority of the people in the room jump in surprise. Even Roland pretended to be startled, which wasn't strictly necessary, but I admired his will to go the whole mile all the same.

"Here!" I declared, and flipped the lid open, revealing a familiar crystal ball in the middle. "Take it over, kid."

Soon, the Celestial communicator lit up, thanks to some prodding from my phantom limbs, and a blue holographic image of my own head appeared floating over it.

"Is this thing on?" hologram-me asked, and while normally only the receiver could hear it, I had sneakily tied the communicator into the loudspeaker system of the assembly hall, so that it sounded like the voice was coming from everywhere at once. The face looked around, and after a long beat, it turned in my direction (roughly) and added, "Is this the conference room of the Draconic Federation?"

"It sure is!" I exclaimed enthusiastically, causing the face floating over the crystal ball to let out a stifled groan.

"Ugh. I told you to deliver this in private!"

"You can't tell me what to do! You're not the boss of me!" I huffed while sidling to the side a little, so that our gazes would line up.

Hologram-me rolled his eyes, and after a suspenseful beat, turned to the rest of the people in the room.

"Good day, everyone. I think I owe you an explanation."

And with that, it was time for the curtain to rise on today's main attraction. We had everything we could ask for. The rapt attention of the audience, a group of skeptics in the front row, for added authenticity, a collaborator to make everything go smoothly, and of course, a flamboyant masked magician on stage. What a show, am I right?