From Russia with Love

I carefully tapped the emerald with the small metal wand, its shaft engraved in an elegant spiral pattern with alchemical symbols. As I struck the gemstone, the symbols of lead, mercury and sulphur briefly illuminated, and the wand emitted a discordant, almost sour note.

"You're taking this whole Doctor Who thing too far. You even have a sonic screwdriver now," Archer commented. I didn't need to look up to know his lips were curled into that sardonic, handsome smirk that always made me want to spank him.

"It's not a sonic screwdriver. It's a Paracelsus Resonance Tuner," I corrected without diverting my attention from the innards of the large mechanical insect. The latest addition was out of tune with the rest, causing interference in the spell formula. "It's a tool for adjusting gemstone resonance frequencies, not some undefined plot device."

"Well, adjusting frequencies until they align, much like tightening screws until the machine functions correctly. Conceptually, it's a screwdriver. And it's certainly sonic."

Performing quick calculations, I revised the schematics. I needed to shift the frequencies from lead to iron, or perhaps even higher, to pyrite. But how? Was it a matter of adjusting the shape, tweaking the crystalline structure, or subtly altering the chemical composition? As I pondered these options, I responded to Archer, "That's like saying a spear is a sword with a tiny blade and an oversized hilt—proper thinking for a Magus. I approve. Even if I don't like how you applied it."

"Contrary as ever. But why?"

Pressing the tuner into the gem, I channelled Od through it. From the point of contact, ten concentric circles made of light emerged, each inscribed with alchemical symbols. It was a visual representation of the spell formula, ready to be adjusted.

As I mentally rotated the circles into the configuration I decided to use, I replied to Archer, "Because you are not thinking of making one. An iconic item of which every Doctor Who fan knows what it is, but no one knows what exactly it does. Magic rooted in sound is not exactly uncommon, and screwdrivers are items commonly associated with mechanics and engineers. I can see several ways how one could assemble those disparate parts together to make a Mystic Code."

"So, are you making one? You could put it right next to a lightsaber."

"No. The mythology of Doctor Who, while classic, is too recent and known to a limited number of people. It lacks the connection to older archetypes necessary to be more than just a mental exercise," I replied as I finished the adjustments to the spell formula. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. You could use some practice. It would help expand your craft."

I pulled back the tuner as the spell circles sank back into the emerald. Its shape subtly shifted, and its colour changed—a barely perceptible shade, but it was there. I tapped the gem again, and a pure note rang out. Success.

"You're nervous about teaching classes?" Archer's question came as I began tapping one gem after another, each emitting a pure note.

"Why do you think that?" I replied, focusing on the task. Ruby. C-sharp. Why would I be nervous? I've taught before. Sapphire. B-flat. Though, never in such a formal setting. Emerald. E. Could it be the subject matter? Both theoretical and applied psionics were novel topics. Perhaps it was premature. The psionic science, despite the research recovered from witches, was still in its formative stages. Beryl. A-sharp. Yet, there was a stark need for trained professionals in these fields; one must start somewhere.

"Because you've increased random lectures by two hundred percent," he observed, his tone light but pointed.

"I didn't realize you were keeping track," I said, reaching the most complex part of the setup—the gem array that served as the anchor for the pseudo-intelligence.

"Are you planning to write a paper on it?" I asked as I adjusted the settings, ensuring the newly aligned frequency hadn't disrupted the harmony of the others. My calculations indicated no issues, but it was always prudent to verify.

Finished with my adjustments, I finally looked up and was greeted by his damnable, handsome smirk—one that always managed to raise my blood pressure, whether out of lust or irritation, it was sometimes hard to tell.

"How does 'Observation of a Mad Scientist in His Natural Habitat' sound for a title?" he quipped.

"It might be a bit hard to publish," I replied, closing the lid of what was Aperture's answer to the mobile phone—a robotic insect with a phone mounted on it, complete with screen and cameras before I began integrating magecraft into it. "Even in an Aperture journal."

"Not even if I bribe the Director?" he asked, his voice almost purring, as he moved towards me with catlike grace.

"Oh?" I replied, my voice thick with intrigue as I licked my lips in anticipation. "And what would you use to bribe him?"

"Sexual favours, perhaps?" he suggested, his tone teasing before he captured my lips in a searing kiss.

I allowed myself a moment to melt into the kiss, relishing the battle of wills that always ensued between us. Then, seizing him by the hair, I pulled him back sharply. "I am a man of integrity," I stated firmly, my gaze piercing. "I should punish you for such an implication."

That was why I preferred him greatly over Personal Androids. Because he chose, time and again, to submit to me, and me alone. Yet, there was always the chance he could choose otherwise. Physically, he was stronger than me. With a magical core, his Od output was that of a dragon, far outpacing mine. And yet, he submitted.

Our disagreements on many things only made our interactions more interesting.

"And how would you punish me?" he asked, his voice heavy with arousal. I noticed his Adam's apple bob as he spoke, his neck vulnerable and exposed. I bit down, not gently, but enough to draw blood.

"This for now," I said, releasing him, "I need to check if the fix works. Later, we can have our fun."

"Promise?"

His question hung in the air, charged with the unspoken thrill of what was yet to come.

But as I have said, work comes before play. With a flick of a switch, I activated my "mobile" phone. I attentively watched the boot-up sequence—initially the standard operations, then the more unique attachments—until the screen displayed the Aperture logo, signaling it was ready for use.

"Display the latest CNN news about Loyd Blankenship's trial."

A soft hum of electrical motors and the clicking of gears followed, and a small hole opened on the front of the device. From it, a floating image was projected, appearing as a hologram. However, it was actually an illusion created by magecraft. While I could have utilized actual holographic technology, using magecraft allowed me to rely on a more primitive technological base, which synergized better with divination practices.

The Mystic Code responsible for this was similar in design to a laser. A tube filled with gemstone emulsion excited by mana emitted a beam of etherlight, which was then focused through a series of gemstone lenses to convert it into the appropriate elemental configuration.

Depending on the arrangement of the lenses, their sequence, and rotation, various spell effects could be achieved.

There were downsides to this new method. Each use slightly corroded the lenses. However, the gem-lenses were easier to manufacture and of much higher quality than the mana-imbued gem bullets, primarily because the process of mana imbuing could be omitted since they utilized an external power source.

While it eliminated the need for physical ammunition, it was also limited by the bandwidth of the link, making it less effective in high-intensity combat situations.

To address this limitation, I integrated another Mystic Code specialized for combat purposes. However, this addition was the metaphorical drop that overflowed the cup, causing interference among the gem frequencies.

"In today's update, prosecutors have officially dropped the RICO charge against Loyd Blankenship, also known as 'The Mentor,' a notorious hacker and alleged member of the hacker group known as the 'Legion of Doom.' This development comes after the earlier dismissal of a charge for resisting arrest. The decision has sparked a debate on governmental overreach, with some officials still advocating for treating hacker groups as organized crime. Meanwhile, Blankenship remains a focal point in what some are calling the trial of the century, as charges under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act still stand."

The image on the display was crisp, the anchor's voice unmistakably clear. A small, satisfied smile played on my lips—I had earned it.

"There are easier ways to steal cable," Archer commented, his voice tinged with amusement. "Considering the cost in gems, just buying a subscription would be cheaper."

"Look at the timestamp," I said, pointing to a small number at the edge of the floating screen. "This is news from an hour ago. So not only can I get transmissions from Earth while on Io, but I can also access them from different times. And because it's oracle-based, it searches according to specific queries. For instance: Display the CNN news about Loyd Blankenship immediately after his arrest."

"After a five-day manhunt, Loyd Blankenship, better known as 'The Mentor,' a notorious hacker and alleged member of the hacker group known as the 'Legion of Doom,' has voluntarily surrendered to police custody. The surrender took place at the police station in Hawkins, Indiana, under Sheriff Jim Hopper. In a statement explaining the timing of his surrender, Blankenship claimed he was informed by a credible source that the CIA had arranged for him to be killed during an attempted arrest. Government officials have strongly denied any such allegations."

"I still believe that it was an unnecessary risk to involve Hopper. Hawkins is too closely linked to Aperture," Archer said, his gaze fixed on the old news footage.

"It's not a significant connection," I countered, "He's just a sheriff in a town where Aperture has a facility."

"On its own, perhaps not, but if someone starts connecting the dots... Too many incidents in Hawkins are linked to you and Aperture," he argued.

"Who would make such connections? Someone living in their basement collecting conspiracy theories?" I scoffed.

"Or an intelligence analyst."

"I needed a cop whom I knew was amenable to our plans, and whom Loyd Blankenship could plausibly know about. The surveillance setup in Hawkins made everything else go according to plan. Besides, that was a long time ago. Why bring it up now? It's too late to change anything."

"Because you need more reminders to act clandestinely. We can ill afford a scandal at this juncture."

"I didn't think you cared about Aperture's profits."

"I do when they're used to save the world. I still think we should blow up Black Mesa, but I trust your divination skills. If you say we must buy them out legally, then that's what we'll do."

"Let's keep blowing it up as a solid Plan C," I said, half-joking. Actually implementing that would certainly breach the agreement I had made, and I was not eager to discover the consequences of crossing an entity that manifested as a government bureaucrat but wielded considerable power.

I wanted to confess about the arrangement to Archer, but that again was a breach.

"And what's Plan B?" Archer asked, his tone mixing curiosity with concern.

"Getting more persuasive in acquiring money to buy out Black Mesa," I said. Technically, that too skirted the edge of our agreement, though it left some room for manoeuvre.

"You're planning to dress as a supervillain, stand before the UN, and demand ten billion dollars in small denominations, with a threat like, 'unless you want something unfortunate to happen to the Moon's gravity?'" He mimicked a dramatic villain's voice, complete with air quotes.

"Actually, I was just planning to use hypnosis on potential investors, but your idea sounds way more fun," I replied, a smirk forming. "But let's try to do it legally first."

"Before they cause an alien invasion," he said, "We hardly need another one."

My combat vivisection had confirmed, what we had largely suspected from exming their Vril-staffs. Reptilians were not of Earth origin.

"Reptilians are utterly incompetent. Who takes two thousand years to conquer a planet? Are they led by Rita Repulsa?"

"Rita Repulsa?" he asked, puzzled.

"You know, from Power Rangers. I thought it was a series any aspiring ally of justice would enjoy."

"I prefer Kamen Rider."

"Then you'll be pleased to hear we've secured digital distribution rights for the entire Kamen Rider series—from the original Kamen Rider, Kamen Rider V3, X, Amazon, Stronger, through to Skyrider, Super-1, and the currently airing Black. Perfect for a full marathon, whether it's for nostalgia or to examine the variations across parallel worlds."

"You're the one who meddles with the Kaleidoscope. That's why we're here in this parallel timeline—our last stop on a journey across strange worlds, some even fictional. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy our wandering lifestyle. And at least we're together."

"Consider this, in a way, our elopement and honeymoon combined."

He snorted, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "But I have to ask, again, did you use the Second True Magic to steal cable?"

"It's nothing that couldn't be done with a properly annotated archive and a good search engine. So, magecraft alone is sufficient. The only part of the device using the Kaleidoscope is the sympathetic linker," I explained, brushing off the triviality of his accusation. "And there's a greater purpose to this than just stealing cable or acquiring old news. You know as well as I do that predicting my past or future doesn't really work."

"Which makes sparring with you all the more thrilling," he replied with a grin. "Otherwise, I'd face an opponent whose style I could predict just by looking at their sword. It makes the fights too predictable."

"But even if my own past or future actions cannot directly be seen through divination, that doesn't hold the same for things affected by my actions."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That's why you tested it with the Loyd Blankenship trial. You're heavily involved, yet very indirectly. This is about the Crown of Midnight, isn't it?"

I paused for dramatic effect, and clearly commanded the device, "Display the first mention of the Ozerov rebellion on Tsentral'noe televidenie SSSR, Pervaya programma."

The more flamboyant CNN archon was replaced by a dressed man professional, conservative suit with a simpler, unobtrusive background. He began to drone in Russian, in an authoritative and somewhat monotonous tone, reflecting the top-down dissemination of information with little room for personal flair or dramatics.

"In further news, the disturbances reported earlier have been traced to a faction led by Oleg Ozerov, a former member of our security services who recently returned under mysterious circumstances from the United States. Comrade Ozerov, the sole survivor of a delegation that went missing under unexplained conditions, has since propagated unfounded and fantastical theories that contradict the principles of our socialist reality.

Authorities are currently investigating the influence of foreign agents on Comrade Ozerov's mental state during his unaccounted time in America. Preliminary findings suggest that his exposure to Western ideologies and possible coercive tactics might have led to severe disorientation and manipulation, culminating in his current delusional state.

The Central Committee is deeply concerned about the potential use of psychological warfare against our citizens by external enemies. In response, enhanced security measures and public awareness campaigns are being initiated to safeguard our people against psychological manipulation.

The Party urges all comrades to remain alert to the subtle machinations of Western powers that aim to destabilize our union through the spread of disinformation. We reaffirm our commitment to the mental and ideological well-being of every citizen, ensuring that the truth prevails in the face of such deceitful tactics.

In solidarity with those affected, the state will provide additional resources to ensure that Comrade Kozarov and his misled followers receive the necessary support and re-education to reintegrate them into society as valuable and enlightened members of our collective."

It worked flawlessly. I never doubted it would. Everything was unfolding precisely as planned.

"Display the next set of reports with embedded geolocations, in chronological order," I commanded.

The floating screen flickered and changed to a different reporter, his demeanour solemn.

"Today in Nizhny Novgorod, minor disturbances sparked by the disgraced figure Oleg Ozerov were promptly subdued. Ozerov, who claims the existence of 'shapeshifting entities,' remains a fringe character espousing absurd theories. Local authorities are keeping a vigilant watch on these extremist groups to ensure public safety."

The screen flickered again, transitioning to a female anchor dressed modestly.

"The situation in Yekaterinburg has taken a violent turn, with escalated clashes instigated by Ozerov's adherents. Employing draconian measures, Ozerov has orchestrated public trials and carried out summary executions against those he labels as 'aliens' or their collaborators. The government has denounced these heinous acts and is committed to swiftly restoring order."

Another quick flicker brought back the male reporter, this time with a chilling image in the background: a forest of stakes where numerous nude men and women were bound, their skin marred by frostbite.

"Ozerov's reach has extended to Samara, where his followers have committed atrocious acts against civilians, including the use of cold exposure as a form of punishment. Despite his continued claims of battling non-human adversaries, these actions have instilled widespread fear. The authorities are urging the public to remain alert and report any suspicious behaviour, assuring that measures are in place to safeguard the community."

"Strange," Archer commented.

"Pause," I ordered. The projected image stilled. Then I turned to Archer and asked, "What is strange?"

"Ozerov is too successful. It's not that easy to lead a rebellion against an authoritarian government," he said, crossing his arms.

"The Soviet Union is scheduled to fall apart in a few years, so there could be some systemic problems," I offered an alternative explanation, but even I wasn't convinced by it. I should defer to his greater experience. Authoritarian regimes were something I mostly observed from a distance; Archer was the one who had traversed through third-world hellholes.

"But not to this extent, or someone else would have taken the opportunity," Archer said, his grey eyes sharp as unsheathed blades, "And people believe him too quickly."

"To rule by ideology, instead of fact, one must erode critical thinking skills. This is why such governments need to suppress any alternative sources of news," I replied, tapping my finger on my chin. It helped me think. "And his crackpot theories happen to be true. I just wonder how he came to the right conclusions. He must have encountered a Reptilian. But how did he recognise a shapeshifter?"

"You have a rather low opinion of normal people's cognitive abilities. I suppose that is the curse of genius," Archer gave a mocking compliment.

"Malice. This is the answer."

"Malice?"

"Remember, we've already deduced that the Crown of Midnight both spreads and absorbs malice. Or evil, though the word 'malice' I think suits here better. Or maybe 'malevolence.' Anyway, Reptilians with their casual habit of devouring humans would be quite a feast. I thought it was merely an unconscious process, but there may be sensory feedback for the user."

"Be a good boy, or the crown will eat you? But then, why all the atrocities from Ozerov and his men?"

"Because one is hunting and the other is farming," I said, almost triumphantly, pleased to have come to a correct, or at least plausible, answer. "And we've already had some evidence that the artefact began to exhibit some form of mental interference. However, this suggests something more focused and controlled. I wonder if the spirit within is learning or just repairing itself. You did cut it in half."

"Things I cut in half usually stay dead. What is he, a worm?"

"Not with that sword," I replied shuddering. Even thinking about it was unpliant. "But I can't really say more until we reclaim the artefact."

"About that," Archer added, "what can we expect from the crown when we confront Ozerov?"

"The primary design of the crown was to absorb malefic influence from houseless elves, helping them find the strength to finally journey West for judgment. As a side effect, it served as a decent mind shield. It's not surprising since mental interference works in a conceptually similar way. I haven't tested it in its unaltered state, but it's likely that it would protect the bearer from supernatural effects, particularly those that could be categorised as maleficatum."

I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. I had been pondering this problem for quite some time and had come up with several theories, but without the artefact itself or the material to create a similar one, there was no way to confirm them.

Even the Aperture Science Data Collection and Human Suffering Enablement Chamber was of no help. I was still in the process of determining what was possible to replicate for testing. For instance, all products made by Aperture could be duplicated, but when I tried to acquire a computer from the Magus World, since it was 2015 there, I could only get one I personally owned. No drones either, since I never possessed one. I could recreate a full elven forge for testing and use any material including mithril or iridium but not antimatter. Exotic matter, like the crystal harvested from Xen borderlands, was fine.

However, neither the original nor the altered Crown was available for testing, so all I had were speculations.

"Does that mean Ozreov should treated like a Servant with high Magic Resistance?" Archer asked, practical as always.

"The effect spreads beyond the bearer's body. I think it's a spiritual imbalance fault. When you cut away a good part of Mel's soul, it was like removing all the fuel from a star. What remained collapses on itself. In a way it is a bit like a back hole, it consumes and radiates," I said.

"And what does that mean in practical terms?"

"The anti-magic effect is an area surrounding the bearer. Don't rely on magecraft in that field. Even purely internal ones like Reinforcement. But especially anything that can be categorised as cursed, demonic or evil. Best use purely material methods."

"That seems a bit too powerful. Even for low-grade Noble Phantasm, which that crown is not."

"It is not absolute effect. Mostly it will degrade the spell while increasing the cost. But also note that closer to the crown the effect goes stronger."

"What about attacks originating from outside the area of effect?"

"As long as the projectile itself is mostly mundane, it should function effectively."

"That doesn't seem right," Archer speculated. "If that were the case, Ozerov would have been eliminated by snipers by now."

"Even constantly on the move, and mostly in hiding?" I questioned. "I was under the impression that snipers require more preparation."

"No, they would have taken him out for sure," Archer asserted confidently.

Well, he was an expert. "Then I suppose spirit within it can act outside of it. It was designed that way, but I thought that that the fact it is damaged would prevent it from leaving the crown."

"A spirit form? That would be useful for scouting. If Ozerov is informed about sniper positions, he could easily evade them. This capability would also allow him to better plan ambushes. And strategically, information like that could be leveraged significantly. Can it materialize?"

"Unknown. But if it can materialize, the most likely forms would be either a Werewolf or a Wight," I speculated, "The latter would require a corpse, preferably one with some significance. So, if there are reports about Lenin's body missing, we can reliably assume it's the second option."

"We have dealt with both before. Will the spirit in material form also have Magic Resistance?"

"Unknown, but unlikely. The effect seems centred around the item itself. Furthermore, the spirit, certainly, or Ozerov possibly, would have full access to spells commonly used by barrow-wights, mostly involving weather manipulation and mental effects—cold, dread, decay. If you noticed it was unusually cold for the time of year when Ozerov executed those people by exposure. And if it materializes as a werewolf it may try to breed some wargs."

"I am almost afraid to ask, but how?" Archer asked, looking at me as if I was a freak show ringmaster, ready to unveil something particularly grotesque.

"Simple and straightforward," I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand. "It just needs to fuck some wolves."

At least that was what my studies of the warg corpses from Arda showed. It was an inborn Mystery. Technically I could create a spell formula that artificially replicates it. Perhst using demons instead. But I had neither the time for purely intellectual pursuits nor a need for cambions.

"Did you fail biology?" he mocked, clearly amused. "I'm quite sure it does not work that way."

Biology might not agree, but mythology was replete with such oddities. Dhampirs and demigods, for example, were born of similarly improbable unions.

"Considering that it's a spiritual entity, it would be more akin to induced parthenogenesis. If that's all, let's try to narrow Ozerov's location down, and then we can hunt."

My lips curved into a predatory smirk. I couldn't wait to get my creation back in my hands. It had deviated sharply from the original design. That was so interesting. I had so many wonderful tests to run on it. And once contained it would not cause further atrocities

"Perhaps we should reconsider that approach." Archer's voice was a pall of ice-cold water waking me from a daydream.

"Why?" I said more sharply than I intended.

"We have been hunting reptilians both in ancient Rome and contemporary America," he explained, now completely serious, "And you're well aware of how that's been going."

"Less successfully than we'd both prefer," I admitted. Their shapeshifting abilities were psionically powered and disturbingly seamless; when they assumed human form, they became indistinguishable from humans—right down to scent, body heat, and even the minute flakes of skin they shed.

"Unfortunately," I continued, "detecting active psionic abilities remains beyond our reach, despite the substantial rewards the government has dangled before us."

"Brain wave testing is not going well? Sorry I didn't have to loot it up, I was too busy recreating Elven metallurgy."

I made a dismissive motion with my hand, "What you're doing is also critical. Your version of willow-iron may not be high-quality, but it's still quite useful. We might even manage to construct vacuum-based dirigibles with it. Now if you could only manage to figure out the process for making artificial mytril."

"No promises there," he replied, his tone a mix of frustration and determination. "I have the chemical composition, but I can't get the amalgamation right. There's something missing."

I nodded, understanding his predicament. "Same issue with the psionic detectors. The accuracy is low, and what's worse, it's not repeatable. And the effectiveness plummets when we don't use a balanced test set. If we adjust the ratio of psychic to non-psychic subjects to more closely mirror real-world scenarios, both precision and recall go down the drain. So, the only reliable method we have is your exceptional nose, which unfortunately has a minimal range."

And using magecraft proved no better than science in detecting psychics. Unlike the Magi, who possess specialized spiritual organs, psychics simply utilize their brains in ways that remain elusive to us. Additionally, there's no distinct energy form like mana or Od to trace.

This limitation led me to ponder their energy source. Psychics do exhibit a slightly higher caloric intake, but it's insufficient to account for the feats they accomplish with mental power alone, such as lifting weights or, more impressively, Jane's ability to create wormholes.

With new insight, I could try to recreate what the Crown is doing, but I was missing some materials, and honestly, the side effects were not worth it.

"It's easier in Rome. There are fewer humans in that time, and when the Emperor invites notables for dinner, one can't really say no. But I've been trying to use my charity work as a mask to meet the wealthy and influential, which are preferred disguises for reptilians. However, I've had very limited success."

"I guess, when you're a monster that enjoys human death and suffering, a charity would not be one of your favourite activities. But what does that have to do with the crown?"

"Letting one enemy we know how to deal with defeat the trickier ones... I don't like that strategy. It cedes initiative."

"You mean control. But it's certainly more efficient. They have to react more to what Ozerov is doing. It would expose them."

"Do they?"

"Secrecy is their weapon. He's stripping them of it."

"You're ascribing human notions to aliens. We still don't know why they eat humans. Do they find it tasty? Is there a religious or cultural reason? And why are they so diligent in massacring humans? Is that some sort of alien sport? Or do they just hate humans, or find humans disgusting?"

"Do their motives even matter? They either oppose Ozerov and reveal their hand, or they cede control. Either way, the wait could be worth it."

"Even with the atrocities Ozerov is committing in the meantime?"

"People are going to be hurt either way. Just because this is on TV doesn't mean it matters more." He paused there for a moment, then looked directly at me, his gaze earnest. "I don't like the idea of leaving people at the nonexistent mercy of a KGB officer corrupted by dark magic, but consider this: Is an authoritarian regime like the USSR, potentially infested by reptilians, any better? It's not just the direct damage they do, but also the poisoning of the well. People emulate what they see as successful. But what if that success is just a reptile in disguise?"

He had a point.

Sensing my hesitation, he pressed on. "And another thing—consider how much time and effort we'd need to invest in taking down Ozerov. How much of that effort would be better spent on the home front? This situation is distracting them. You must have noticed it too. How much of the opposition to many life-saving policies has suddenly weakened? Like the FDA finally approving many new drug formulas we put forward. There's less rhetoric about leechers and how charity makes people lazy."

"A lot of what you are saying is supposition, but I should trust your instincts. And I so wanted to get my hands on the crown. I had planned such a fun time together for the two of us. But good things come to those who wait."

"Should we be concerned about the Crown? You sound like you want to molest it," he replied, his smirk returning. Good.

"Jealous," I teased back, "So, do you want to cuddle and watch Ozerov's greatest hits? Even if we don't hunt him right now, gathering information would be useful for when we do."

"Not quite the romantic move I had hoped for, but if we are to condemn those people, we should at least witness what happened to them. But before I get distracted again, I should give you the gift I made for you. That's why I came to see you."

"I love gifts. Is it tasty?"

"You know I can make things other than food. Since your sword is unavailable, I made you a new one."

He reached for the long package he had placed on the desk earlier. He must have brought it when he first came. I hadn't noticed it before, too distracted by my work.

He unwrapped it. Inside was a sword carved from a single diamond. It was beautifully sharp.

I moved to test it, but it looked strangely familiar. "Is this a variant of that sword?"

He chuckled. "No. I remember that you're allergic to truth. It's just an Azoth blade made of diamond. I think you'll find it compatible."