Kint sat puffing his pipe on the bench where he’d agreed to meet his partner, Elsha.

He breathed out, watching the smoke as it battled the evening's Shroud.

His house was a few dozen paces away, dark, and empty.

He hadn’t been inside for two days now. Neither had his daughter.

Without her, the place no longer felt welcoming. The Inspector could sense that if he entered, the warmth of home would be a distant memory.

The creeping Shroud circled the building's walls like a blooded shark.

Kint checked his watch and grimaced.

He’d been waiting for an hour.

Where was Elsha?

They’d agreed to meet her after she’d checked on Nessa at her father’s Ignatium estate.

Could it really have taken her this long? Or was something wrong?

Anxiety itched at the back of the Senior Inspectors mind.

Was Nessa okay?

Were they discovered?

He checked his surroundings.

His pulse quickened.

Kint gripped his knees, taking a breath, steeling himself.

He needed to calm down.

She would be here.

He had to trust her. He owed her that much at least.

Snap.

Kint’s head shot right, eyes searching the darkness.

…

There was nothing there… Just the vague outline of an old oak tree.

He checked left.

An oil lamp provided a dim light a block away.

But there was nothing else…

He could have sworn he’d heard something. A broken twig, maybe?

He sat still.

Waiting...

Silent…

Was it Elsha?

No.

She would have said something by now. She would not play with his emotions like this…

Or would she?

…

Kint fiddled with his fingers.

He was exposed. He must be.

His eyes shot up.

Should he go for the house?

No, whoever it was likely had eyes on him. If it was an enemy, they’d have taken precautions.

The Inspector gritted his teeth.

What should he do?

His head swiveled, this way and that, looking for any sign of his stalker in the night.

There was none.

Why hadn’t they shown themselves?

His eyes narrowed…

Would Elsha play a joke on him? At a time like this?

He frowned.

The aged Inspector couldn’t rule it out.

“Elsha?” He called, voice hushed.

…

He was about to call again, when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“I’m afraid not, Inspectah.”

His blood went cold.

The deep voice vibrated through him.

Kint moved to run, but the hand held him firm. There was no give in that grip.

“It’s too late, sir.” Sh'Geel stated, settling in on the bench beside him. “The time for escape has passed.”

The hand pressed him into his seat with towering force.

Kint’s heart raced. His eyes searched frantically, looking for a way out.

How had this happened? How had they known?

Where was Elsha?

Was she caught?

She must be, otherwise how would they know to be here.

Which meant…

He turned his head, locking eyes with the dark Acolyte.

He needed to escape, needed to get free of this man.

Sh’Geel’s gaze was apologetic.

Kint’s mind raced for an idea, searching for any possible positive outcome.

He couldn’t run. He certainly couldn’t fight…

Could he beg?

The Inspector analyzed the Acolytes' eyes.

No…

No that wouldn’t work…

The time for that had passed as well.

It was over.

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Well and truly over…

Kint’s shoulders slumped, the heavy weight of failure settling in his chest.

There was no escaping this man. No escaping the grave he’d dug for himself.

He didn’t even have to dowse to understand the Acolyte’s power. Kint could see it in the man’s face. He saw his own death in those gray eyes.

Kint sighed, deflating, shaking his head.

He’d almost done it.

Almost…

“Good Man.” Sh’Geel praised, patting him on the shoulder.

He took a cigar from a fold in his robes, placing it in his mouth. It looked more like a cigarette in his giant hand.

He looked around, spotting something.

The large man stood, making his way over to the nearest oil lamp.

He opened the side window, putting the cigar inside to light it.

The Inspector sat, stunned.

The man had just… walked away…

Should he run?

Could he run?

The Shroud was thick tonight. He might be able to lose the man in it...

Kint remained still.

Logic told him to run, to dash through the house and out the back door. His mind burned through a maze of circuitous routes he might take to lose the large Acolyte.

But, instinct… That told a different story.

Every fiber in Kint’s body was screaming at him not to move a single inch.

Run, hide, fight. It was all useless.

Kint gritted his teeth.

He was useless…

Impotent rage boiled inside him as he stared at the towering man.

How? How could anyone have such power?

The weight of his aura was so oppressive, Kint could hardly breathe.

How had he not noticed it before?

The Inspector couldn’t help it, he needed to know.

He reached within himself, searching for that tantalizing well of power.

Heat flooded his eyes as he tapped in. Wave Energy burned in his veins blinding him with searing pleasure.

He gritted teeth, locking his enhanced vision on the hulking man… and froze.

His breath stopped, his jaw dropped.

…

There was nothing.

…

No aura at all.

The man was completely devoid of magic.

The Inspector shook his head, blinking hard.

That couldn’t be possible.

He pressed harder, opening up the channels of power in his body, pushing more energy through them.

The man stood by the open lamp, cupping his hands and puffing smoke from his cigar to get it fully lit. The Shroud glowed a subtle white around his shoulders.

But other than that… nothing.

Sh'Geel looked up, meeting Kint’s eyes.

He smiled a knowing smile.

This man would track him down. Kint knew it in his very soul.

Whatever his power was, it was immense.

The Inspectors eyes might not be able to see it, but he could feel it in his bones like a coming rain.

The Acolyte returned to the bench with a leisurely gait, retaking his seat.

He puffed contentedly on his thick cigar.

“So…” He said. “What did you see, Inspectah?”

Sh’Geel turned, looking directly at Kint.

“What did you see, with your Dowsing eyes…”

He knew…

“How?” Kint asked, stunned.

How many people knew this secret?

But then, the more pressing questions came to mind.

“How?” He asked again, “How can you be so powerful, and yet… you have no aura?”

The dark skinned man raised an eyebrow.

Then he smiled.

It was a mischievous thing. It would be endearing if the situation weren’t so grim.

He took a puff of tobacco, taking his time. For who could press a man of such power for time.

“You know…” he began, folding a leg over his knee. “You and I are very similar, Master Kint.”

Another puff.

“We have pasts of great consequence. Pasts that could make it difficult to achieve our future goals…”

He tapped the cigar to his leg, a crown of ash falling to the dirt.

“So we pretend to be something we are not.”

The man’s posture changed, his shoulders straightened, neck rising.

“But it would seem… At the dawning of this dark hour…”

Kint’s eyes narrowed.

What was this?

Sh’Geel turned, looking him in the eye.

“That the time for pretending is over.”

The Inspector cocked his head, confused.

Everything about the Acolyte looked the same, and yet… he was completely different.

His voice was different, his posture was different, even the sharpness of his gray eyes was different.

Everything this man did was now laced with a refined quality that was undeniable. His charisma, his cadence, his tone, it all spoke of class, where just moments ago, the Acolyte could have stepped into any factory in District 13 and not been out of place.

There was a power, a control in his bearing that couldn’t be missed. A confidence in the set of his shoulders that said, everything was going to plan.

This was no longer the same man… it couldn’t be…

“What is this?” Kint asked, tension inching through his gut.

He glanced around, searching for… something? Anything that would give him a clue as to what was going on.

The towering man laughed.

It was a deep sonorous thing.

Kint gritted his teeth, frustrated.

Even now, after all this, he had to fight the urge to like the man.

His charisma was like a magnetic force, unnatural almost.

But no, the Inspector had seen with his dowsing eyes that the Sh’Geel had no Aura to speak of.

And yet the compulsion to like him was so great…

His eyes narrowed.

He’d only ever met one other man in his life with charisma like this.

And then it clicked.

“You’re with the Church.” Kint muttered, “One of Grayson’s.”

Sh'Geel’s smile faltered, eyes widening in surprise, then narrowing again.

“How—”

He paused, examining Kint anew.

“A dangerous man indeed…”

He shook his head in amazement.

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t…” Kint admitted. “Not for sure. But it makes sense…”

The Inspector looked up to the Shrouded sky. A grin split his lips as tension left his shoulders.

He was still alive.

His mind churned through information, new and old, as a new story began to form in his mind.

“The Sentinel, the Criers…” Kint nodded, his gaze moved over the man’s powerful figure.

“You killed the men in the factory…” He accused, “And the–”

Sh'Geel cut him off.

“I didn’t kill the boy.”

His face was stern, earnest.

“I was doing my own investigation into the plant when I stumbled upon Daryl and Shin.”

He grimaced.

“They’d already killed the lad before I arrived. So, I put them down.”

Kint nodded slowly, going over his memory of the crime scene in his head.

Sh’Geel’s telling of events fit with his theories of what had happened. His story also confirmed that he had some power that was not visible to Kint’s Dowsing, otherwise he could not have killed the two Acolyte’s, who were likely Crafter Class Mages.

“So you set this whole thing in motion…” The Inspector pressed. “For what purpose?”

The large man frowned.

“The murders were... A decision made in haste.” He shrugged. “As for the rest…”

He grinned, taking a satisfied puff from his cigar.

“Years of planning. Most of it, done by your friend Grayson.”

The Acolyte raised a confident eyebrow.

“The Sentinel was my idea, though.”

His smile turned down to a frown again as he sighed.

“Of course, the results would not be so… bloody… without Crecius’ own mistakes.”

“The factory… There’s something under it, isn’t there?” Kint muttered. “Something that’s not supposed to be there.”

Sh'Geel nodded.

“Exactly.”

“So you know what it is?”

The man shook his head.

“No. But whatever it is, we want it. Likely, for the same reasons you do.”

“Leverage…” Kint replied.

The priest nodded again.

“Whatever’s down there has brought this District to its knees.” The man confirmed, “With any luck, it might do the same to the Dutchess.”

Kint let the point settle.

The Dutchess…

This was a man of bold vision.

The idea of the church blackmailing a Dutchess, one of the four highest ranking members of house Vorva…

A subtle grin split the Inspector's lips.

The plan was insane…

Like if a Kadenite Inspector tried to Leverage a sitting district Lord.

“Everyone thinks the priests are just middlemen for the highest bidder, but you’ve had your own designs the whole time… What are they?”

Sh'Geel’s gray eyes gleamed with excitement.

He stood, taking one final puff from his cigar before tossing it away.

“That depends on what we find.” He grinned, reaching out a hand.

“Are you coming?”