The orange building

After surveying the crumbling building, March determined that there was a convenient little opening on the fourth floor, where the boards didn't appear properly attached or aligned with the window. And while he had the power to force his way in through any of the doors and windows he pleased, March needed to approach this endeavor with a little more finesse. And while he could chance summoning a flying sword, luck, like everything else in the world, balances out. That was the thing, wasn't it? He'd already used his luck.

And who knew how many foes lie way for him inside. He smirked, the rush adrenaline was already making its way to his head. Now he just had to find a way to scale the walls. There was a ledge that jutted out just above the second floor and below the third, which he could reach by climbing the vines that crept up the walls. He made quick work of that, even though his waist was still groaning at him in complaint.

Seriously, when was he this out of shape? March chided himself as he hopped onto the ledge. There wasn't enough space for his entire sole to balance upon and he had to press his entire body against the wall to creep along the ledge on tiptoes. The ledge looked a lot wider from the ground. Ah, well, he just had to advance cautiously until he was under his targeted window. But he was still one floor below. March scratched his head in thought. There was a rusty pipe that ran along the side of the building that could probably support him for all of a minute before it crumbled. The bricks, while lain uneven, with parts protruding, barely had enough space for his toenails to grip onto.

But neither option was impossible. Surely, there had to be one that was more annoying than the other.

March found that he was too lazy to wallow in his decisions and instead just acted on impulse. First, he pulled out little spec of an Insomnium ore from his pocket and put in his mouth, holding it against his teeth with the tip of his tongue. He leaped from the railing and grabbed onto the rusty old pipe, using the momentum to pull himself up. It creaked under his grasps as he expected and he could hear metal whining and cracking beneath his palm. That was fine!

With the boost from the Insomnium ore, March tapped into his meridians. It'd been a hot minute since he used his spiritual energy but he still remembered the technique for graceful landing and light stepping. It was enough to allow him to run up the wall vertically with little effort at all. And when the window was just a foot above his reach he jumped and grabbed hold of the ledge, hauling himself up. The plank, as he expected, peeled open with little effort and he was able to slip into the building.

He found himself in an old room, where dust was abundant enough to assault his throat and lungs. March coughed and squinted against the dim light. Whatever the room had once been, its use was difficult to discern for it was mostly empty aside from an old moldy desk that stood in one corner. Maybe it was an office of sorts? March couldn't be sure.

He made his way to the closed door and placed an ear against it for any sounds on the other side. Only silence echoed back at him. Perhaps the upper levels weren't used and only the bottom floors were occupied? The handle clattered under his grasp and for a moment, March thought that the door had been locked from the outside. But after a few tries, the door spat him out with a loud creak.

March stumbled into a long dim hall that was equally. if not dustier than the room he just came from. The vines from outside even crept inside the building, reaching as far as the inner halls. It was a little eerie but at least empty. Which meant he didn't have to worry about people being startled by his entry.

Of course, March, being a man of caution, still made sure to follow the shadows when he could and silenced his steps as he advanced. He found the set of stairs and waited a moment at the stairwell, listening carefully for any noise that might tell of guards outside of lower floor entrances.

There was definitely noise, but it was so faint, far, and muffled. It was safe to assume that no one was standing in the stairwell itself. Not bad, he thought. He crept down the floors until he arrived at the basement level and pressed his ear against the hallway door. There was definitely sound coming from somewhere. Carefully he turned the nob, revealing a dark hallway lit only by a row of feint magical lanterns.

But there was something odd about these lanterns. Instead of being directly powered by a spell, upon closer inspection, each lantern had a little piece of Insomnium ore stuffed inside.

...What an expensive way to use magic just for lighting. There was only one group of people in the war that would caution to waste resources so readily.

March slowly advanced through the narrow halls, only to halt at an intersection. He pressed himself into the shadow of the bend and stilled his breathing.

"This way." A set- no, two sets of footprints echoed down the adjacent hall, inching closer with each step. They passed March without notice. "Sorry, not many people are around right now. Just June and I." The owner of the voice was shorter and lanky glasses-wearing boy that March had no recollection of. And behind this boy was the mysterious man who was frowning deeply at his guide.

"I can't believe you're involved in all of this."

The glasses boy shrugged, "This and that happened. Honestly, Kaleidoscope isn't half as bad as the world leads you to believe. The people here are mostly really chill."

"I wonder about that. Also, I'm not interested in joining or anything. I just want to see what this Marilyn thing is about."

March poked his head from the corner, watching two figures walk farther and farther away, towards a door at the end of the hall.

"Yeah, that's what everyone says at first," the glasses boy replied as he opened the door. They disappeared into the room, muffling the conversation. March waited a moment before going up to the door himself. He couldn't just carelessly barge in and risk being discovered so soon. But luckily he still had a bit of a magic from the Insomnium ore he leeched off of earlier. A talisman was pulled out of his pocket and he slipped it under the crack of the door.

March closed his eyes and focused his spiritual energy. Suddenly the layout of the room inside became visible to him. He had to hurry though, without a golden core, he could only use spiritual energy granted to him from the little Insomnium ore. And while he could take three doses in succession if he really had to, March really didn't want to deal with ore-poisoning. So instead, he made his surveillance quick and effective.

Inside, there was a little room with a bar counter in one corner, and on the other side was a narrow hall that led into a wider lounge-like space. The man and his friend didn't spend that long in the first room and went down the hall into the lounge. But before March could send his talisman into the lounge, he noticed something interesting placed upon the counter.

Next to a bottle of gin, carelessly left out was a mask. It was the Lioness's mask. March hummed and then funneled the last sliver of his spiritual energy into the talisman, sending it into the lounge area.

While he was able to get visual information with this spell, his power was currently much too limited to hear anything through the talisman. The two guys he was following earlier stopped their chatting and veered their attention to a third figure that was standing around a billiard table, seeming to be having a match with himself. This man with silver hair and a carefree smile was one that March could recognize anywhere.

March, a fool, spent too long looking out with his spell, trying as he could to read June's lips and didn't realize his spiritual energy was already dwindling pathetically low. The talisman wavered and March to grit his teeth and slid it under a cabinet in an attempt to hide his blunder.

The spell severed. Crap. Aside from going there and physically retrieving the talisman himself, there was no way of removing that telling piece of evidence.

Left without a choice, March slowly turned the door handle and slipped into the room.