It took Topher a few seconds to notice that he'd stopped breathing.

He forced himself to start again; a ragged inhale, followed by a hissing exhale through his teeth. Then another, then he finally had breath to speak. "Where is he?"

"Christopher," said Quint -- his voice quiet but urgent -- "remember my words. We must think carefully, we must --"

"Nothing you say matters," Topher interrupted him dully. Deep within, he was in awe of himself, watching his body move as though it were on autopilot. He felt cold, inert, dead; his inner self seemed to be wrapping its arms around its knees and watching with morbid fascination. So, the words floated through his mind. This is how he gets me. "There's only one way out now."

The logic of everything was inescapable; the Infinite King had played the game expertly, far too well for Topher to even contemplate resistance now. In the scuffed, grimy pans of his personal scales of judgment, Zanasha's gentle, bold perfection outweighed the whole world; it certainly outweighed Vius, who had orchestrated the murder of nearly everyone who'd died so far that Topher gave even a tiny shit about. But the more he tried, listlessly and hopelessly, to find some third way, the more the nails he'd driven into his own coffin shone out of the rotted woodwork. Five graves in Strathmore. We've ruined everything. Five graves in Strathmore.

Seeing the look in Topher's eyes, Quint stumbled backwards; he nearly fell, unsteady on his new prosthetic leg, but managed at the last moment to right himself. A glint of defiance came into his eyes -- Topher couldn't really tell if it was directed at him, or at the situation -- but he transferred his oaken staff to his left hand and held up his right in a forbidding gesture. "Christopher, you must stop! Think, or everything we have done will be for naught!"

"It was always for naught." Topher strode numbly forward; his hands twitched like a strangler's. "There's no other option. I'm going to kill Vius; either help me, or get out of my way."

In despair, Quint struck out -- a gentle pulse of resistance, some version of Mage Hand too subtle and powerful for Topher to comprehend. But it washed over him like water, a pressure he could ignore with only the barest effort, and he bulled forward regardless even as he glimpsed papers and loose items flying about in his peripheral vision. The guards, perceiving his threat, dogpiled him, but he swept them up in a swirl of Attracted motion and tossed them to the side like puppies without even breaking his stride. "Don't make me hurt you, Quint," he rasped.

Quint's face crumpled. "Forgive me. I must see you returned to your senses."

With a precise, artful gesture -- something both long-practiced and inherently intuitive -- he formed a rune in the air. Even as it took shape, Topher understood it -- a ripple of potentiality, the barest hint of a suggestion of a structure which, by its implication, gave form to a dozen others in fractal, rapid intimation. You can sign the runes, too, Topher grasped, but instantly his discovery was obliterated by the force of Quint's strike.

It was like Lightning Bolt, but immensely more powerful and intricate; it attacked the target's electrical system, sending nerves into shock and muscles into spasm. The bolt struck Topher unerringly, dead center over his heart, and blasted over and through him like a tidal wave; the force of it sent a shockwave through the whole room, a hammer-blow of air from the pure power of the impact.

And, striding past and out of the galvanic vortex, Topher laughed bitterly. "I'm almost Level three hundred now, Quint. You can't even get through my Arch Shielding anymore." We beat his last weapon, so he forged a new one out of me. Every step calculated, every action another domino in the chain. He'd have been happy if Kelfir and Varissian died in the Crypt, but this was his real purpose. His hand twitched at his side, like a gunslinger's, ready to summon his Stylus. "Last chance. Tell me where Vius is."

"He does not know, Mister Bailey."

Topher whirled around; in the entryway, Rudo Muchenje stood resolutely, his hands loose and relaxed at his sides. "But I do."

Topher groaned; his torment was wrenched out of him audibly as he swung around like a puppet on too-tight strings. "God dammit, Rudo. Don't make me do this."

"Ah, but it is my part to play," riposted the old man, an easy grin creasing his wrinkled brown face. He brought up his fists and waggled them comically, pitifully. "Leave the Archmage. I will be your opponent, yes?"

"Don't think I won't commit elder abuse twice," Topher growled. His Stylus appeared in his hand, but he didn't spin it yet. "We're out of options. Tell me where Vius is, or I'll drag it out of you; I'll break every bone in your body if that's what it takes to save my wife." Stop fighting me. Just let this be over.

"Christopher!" Unexpectedly, Zashe appeared in between them, his hands held out in placation. "This is madness! Surely you can see that this is what our enemy wants!"

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"Of course it's what he wants," Topher spat, excruciated upon his own horror at himself. "He set it all up, goddammit, do you understand that?!" His control slipped for a moment, and a pulse of force -- raw Attraction -- yanked everyone in the room a foot towards him, like the event horizon of a black hole. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to do what this motherfucker wants!" Another pulse dragged Quint, Zashe, and Rudo to their knees; the pile of guards slid comically across the floor like a ten-foot mound of laundry. "*But I don't have any fucking choice!!"

"Alone... no...." Rudo managed, panting for breath as the air swirled chaotically around; Topher could barely make out Quint lashing as this back with spells, but he didn't feel anything, couldn't feel anything. He was numb, like he was just watching everything play out. "But... you... are... not... alone..."

"It doesn't even matter." Topher stalked forward, miserably abject, like a man pulled forward by a hook in his jaw. "I could have borne anything else." He stepped over the king's crumpled form, not even looking downward, and grabbed Rudo by his wrist; with a grunt of effort, he hauled the unresisting old man off his feet, dangling him by one arm as he stared bleakly into the gentle eyes. "But the game's over now. Tell me where Vius is, so I don't have to hurt any more of my friends." He trembled, then the anguished shout escaped him that he'd been holding back. "Please!"

Rudo's eyes twitched back and forth -- an animal reflex -- and Topher's mouth dropped open in shock. "Even now, you're calculating?! While my wife is about to be killed, while I'm threatening to fucking break you in half, you're still trying to be a sneaky bastard?" Furious, he hurled the old man to the floor again, then placed one booted foot on the back of his hand. "Fingers don't heal too good, pal. Don't ask me how I know." Reluctantly, hating himself, he shifted a tiny amount of his weight, and winced as he saw Rudo's face pale with fear and discomfort. "Talk, goddammit! I don't have time...!"

Then, suddenly, he was falling backwards; bowled off his feet, he was lost in a confused flurry of struggle for a moment. Then, suddenly, everything resolved; he was lying on his back, a lithe female form kneeling on his chest, and Hana's angelic face glared down at him furiously from out of the ethereal cloud of her beautiful black hair. "Bailey-sama," she grated, "cease this! You do not have all the information."

"Once again, Miss Shirakane," Rudo groaned, getting up and flapping his hand in pain, "you are too eager. It would have been useful to know if Mister Bailey would truly have tortured me; you must show more trust in the future." He tried to move closer to them, but stumbled again; but as he fell, a pair of gentle hands appeared to catch him. A plum-colored robe, frocked in ermine, obscured him from view for a moment; but when the swirl of motion had faded, the robe settled back to the floor to reveal its occupant, holding Rudo with desperate force. "Master Muchenje," Zashe choked, "must you hazard yourself so recklessly?" Carefully, he helped Rudo to his feet again, but kept an arm around the old man's waist. "You make me worry so," he scolded.

The fuck? Topher, distracted by whatever the hell was happening, lost his concentration for a moment, but Hana shoved her face into his and reclaimed his attention angrily. "Muchenje-san and Siukh-sama foresaw this," she spat at him, pressing his shoulders to the floor; he realized, with a bit of a shock, that her Chaos Blade was in her hand and pressed against his throat. "Will you listen for one moment? Or is there only thoughtless violence within you, American?"

Topher choked, gagged; then, crazily, a laugh bubbled up from within him, insane and obscene in the context of everything that was happening. "Thoughtless violence. You fucking..." He bit back the insult, weirdly reticent to inflict emotional damage even as he was threatening to cripple or kill everyone in his way. "What the hell kind of plan do you think can make a difference?!"

With a twist and a fierce jerk of momentum, he threw her off him; her knife scored his throat, but the blade didn't pierce his jugular or windpipe, and the line of bright blood that appeared and faded away almost as quickly. "I can't believe," he rasped, "that you'd protect a child murderer." His hands were curled into claws so tight they hurt. "That you'd all protect a child murderer. But it doesn't even fucking matter, do you understand?" The force of his will summoned his Stylus back into his hand from where it had fallen; in despair, he began to spin it. "Even if you have the best reasons -- even if I could let you talk me down -- that's just killing her with extra steps. Vius has to die, and I'd prefer he'd be the only one; but I'll make a path to him out of your bones if I have to."

"Spymaster Mak Ghiroth may well deserve death," Rudo panted, making no move to detach from Zashe, "but you are blinded to the opportunity before us. The Infinite King has maneuvered you into a corner, but only because you cannot see the desperation of his move." He shuffled forward, a half-step at a time -- Topher could see he'd pulled or broken something in his leg or hip -- but his voice was clear and sure. "Vius has remained in magical slumber since his capture -- Archmage Siukh moves him about, always in motion, never at rest. In doing so, we keep the secrets the Infinite King fears in a state of readiness, but still preventable -- a dagger at his throat, forcing him to act." He limped forward another step, brushing past Topher towards Quint. "Forcing him to take a hostage... a hostage that was his first real mistake."

Topher's eyes narrowed. "I'll fucking kill you for this," he spat.

"You are welcome to do so," Rudo gasped, "but do so after my next action, if you please." He stumbled again; Zashe, trailing anxiously behind him, caught him a second time. "Archmagus," he croaked, "if you please."

"I?" Quint's face was a ravaged portrait of despair; his staff quivered in nerveless hands. "I am powerless. I cannot oppose him; I suspect I could not even oppose you, much less the Demon King and Queen or the Infinite King himself. What could I do now?"

"Not you." Rudo's easy, slightly mocking smile was like a snake's. "In your pocket."

Topher jolted upright.

The Augurus.

Quint blinked, then understood as well; shakily, he fumbled the artifact out of his robes, but nearly dropped it in his distress. But Topher brought it smoothly into his hand, his Attract Object power almost an extension of his body now. "You don't want me to find Vius," he muttered, shocked and appalled at what he'd almost done.

"No." Hana rose to her feet and sheathed her dagger, then crossed her arms and tossed her hair. "We want you to find Zee. Because that's where you'll find him."