Execution

The night of the auction arrived. I stood in my office, my mind meticulously laying out the full scheme. Every step, every contingency, calculated systematically.

A voice came through my communicator. "All assets are in position. Timothee's 'gift' has been delivered. The distraction team in the garden is waiting for your order. What's your next move, James?" Milverton's voice sounded calm.

I glanced at the replica of Chronos Salvation gleaming under the lamplight on my desk. "I've never liked stealing, Milverton," I said softly. "It's too reactive."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "…Then what is all this?" Milverton asked, his tone clearly confused.

I let a thin smile form behind my mask, gazing out the window toward Augustine's grand residence, still blissfully unaware of what was about to come.

"This isn't a theft. You could say… this is a magic show. And tonight, Count Augustine himself will make his treasure disappear."

"…I'll leave it to you then…" Milverton said nervously.

"Execute," I said flatly.

Silence on the line for a heartbeat, then Milverton's calm reply: "As you wish, James."

The connection cut. The game began.

I took off my office suit, replacing it with rough, nondescript technician's clothes, an identity I'd purchased along with a fabricated two-week work history. The face of Welt Rothes, the rising young investor, buried beneath the image of a lowly laborer no one would remember. Last, I put on that white porcelain mask. Its coldness clung to my skin.

I didn't leave through the main door of my sky manor. I used the service window at the back, descending an external fire escape that only old-timers of the building even knew existed, down to the dim backstreets. I melded with the city's shadows, moving with clear purpose toward the Disposal District.

My destination was an entrance to the old aqueduct system from the pre-kingdom era. I found it, a relic of forgotten engineering which, according to Finch's ancient maps, ran directly beneath Count Augustine's foundations. It was a route they would never suspect.

The entrance was a rusted sewer grate in a foul-smelling alleyway. I lifted it easily. Damp, moldy air rushed up to meet me. I dropped into the pitch-blackness below and sealed the grate behind me. Down here, in the city's belly, I was truly alone, surrounded by this stench.

Traversing the aqueduct was a test of patience. The stone tunnel was slick with moss, ankle-deep pools of stagnant water slowed my steps. The air was heavy, and the only sounds were constant drips of water and my muffled footsteps. Occasionally, pairs of red eyes glowed from cracks in the walls, low-tier Aberrations, creatures born of rot and stagnant Essence. I ignored them. They weren't worth my energy. I cloaked myself in a thin shroud of Void Essence, masking my scent and presence. To them, I was nothing but another shadow.

After nearly a kilometer in the reeking dark, I reached my target. According to the blueprint I'd memorized, the wall to my right was the outer wall of Augustine's wine cellar. I pulled a small vial from my pocket. Inside was an alchemical solution I'd designed myself, an acid that only reacted with the type of lime mortar used in pre-kingdom construction.

I applied the liquid to the brick joints in a circular pattern. No hiss, no smoke. It seeped in like water, severing the bonds at a molecular level. After a few minutes, I pressed the center of the circle gently. The stones shifted inward soundlessly, forming an opening just big enough to slip through.

I stepped into a drunkard's paradise, Count Augustine's wine cellar. Hundreds of dusty bottles sat neatly on mahogany racks, each one labeled in elegant handwriting. The air here was cool, heavy with the scent of aged wine and oak. In the center of the room pulsed a blue crystal Essence sensor, standard security to detect intruders.

I didn't bother trying to disable it. I approached, forming a "bubble" of vacuum from my Void Essence around my body. I walked past the sensor. To the crystal, I didn't exist.

I found the service door at the far end of the cellar, opened it, and entered the dim staff corridor. This was where my plan was at its most fragile, the part that hinged on a human variable.

I moved silently down the hall, heading for the linen storage room. I needed to confirm my pawn, Timothee, had placed my device. According to the schedule I'd obtained, he should have just finished his duties in this wing.

But, as always in the real world, a perfect plan on paper always collides with reality's friction. When I turned the corner, I saw him, Timothee, the young servant, standing there trembling in front of the butler, an old, hawk-faced man.

"…and you dropped that silver tray again, you worthless boy!" the butler hissed, his voice sharp as shattered glass. "One more mistake and you'll end up on the street, begging with the rats!"

Timothee's face was deathly pale. He clutched a small box in his hand, my sound-dampening device. He hadn't placed it yet. He was too afraid. My time was running out. The auction was about to begin.

I had to act.

I stood in the shadows at the end of the corridor, focusing a fraction of my Essence. I didn't intend to attack, I simply sent a small pulse into the filament of a gas lamp behind the butler.

Pop.

The lamp burst in a spray of sparks, plunging part of the corridor into momentary darkness.

"What the hell was that!" the butler shouted, spinning around, startled. "Quick, check the gas panel!"

He and several other staff hurried away, leaving Timothee alone, bewildered and afraid.

I stepped out from the shadows, my face hidden behind the porcelain mask. I said nothing, just looked at him, then pointed to the linen storage room door. Then I held up a small vial of brightly colored liquid, the fake "confidence potion" my intermediary had promised him.

Timothee's eyes widened in understanding. Desperate hope outweighed his fear. He nodded quickly, then ran into the linen storage room. Moments later, he emerged again, the box gone from his hand. He shot me a grateful glance before disappearing down the corridor.

The pawn had moved as I wished. I slipped into the lavender-scented linen storage and waited.

From here, I could hear the faint voice of the auctioneer through the wall from the main hall. I checked my watch. Nine fifty. Almost time. I set up a tiny listening device on the wall, letting me hear clearly what was happening.

"…and now, distinguished guests," the auctioneer's voice rang out enthusiastically, "the item we've all been waiting for. A miracle from a bygone age. The one and only—Chronos Salvation!"

Polite applause.

I sent a mental signal to Milverton.

Seconds later, a faint tremor rippled through the building, followed by a shrill fire alarm wailing from the garden side. The diversion had begun. I heard hurried footsteps in the corridor as guards ran outside.

Now it was my turn.

I attached my directional charge to the wall bordering Count Augustine's vault. I activated the high-frequency sound dampener Timothee had placed. Outside this room, nothing would be heard.

Thump.

A dull, near-silent implosion. The wall crumbled inward, revealing the back of the giant steel vault. As I suspected, the vault was protected by a complex magical matrix. Forcing it open would trigger a dozen other alarms.

I wouldn't force it. I'd pierce it, if I could.

I pressed my palm to the cold steel surface, focusing every drop of Void Essence I could muster. This was the most complicated application of my Bizarre Dao I'd ever attempted. I would, quite literally, create a rift in spatial dimensions. I didn't know if it would work. It had to.

The air around me seemed to shiver. My aperture drained rapidly as I forced the power to stay disguised. The steel beneath my palm softened into a pool of black liquid. I pushed my hand through it, it felt like plunging my arm into ice water filled with shards of glass.

Inside the vault's darkness, I could sense the artifact. I grasped it. The golden pocket watch felt warm in my hand. I pulled it through the spatial hole I'd created, then, with my remaining strength, pushed the replica back into the vault.

The rift closed. The vault's surface solidified back to seamless steel, leaving no trace.

I leaned against the wall, breath ragged. Half my energy drained. This was far harder than I'd imagined.

I pocketed the real Chronos Salvation and activated my holographic projector. In the main hall, I knew that 'W' now appeared on stage, creating my final distraction. I had a few minutes to escape.

I retraced my steps through the staff corridor, heading for my exit route through the wine cellar. Everything was going to plan. I was so close.

Then I heard footsteps ahead. Not the hurried footsteps of panicked guards. These were too calm.

I slipped into a shadowed alcove behind a statue.

Two figures walked past my hiding spot. I recognized them instantly.

Irene Cheva, and beside her, William Salwors.

"…that garden distraction is too crude," William said, his voice as analytical as ever. "That's not the style of 'W' we know from the smuggling incident. It's probably a decoy."

My heart froze for a moment.

"A decoy for what?" Irene asked. "All the guards are over there."

"Exactly," William replied. "To pull everyone's attention one way while the real operation happens elsewhere. Somewhere quiet. Overlooked. Like this service corridor."

He stopped, right in front of my alcove. I held my breath, wrapping myself in an even thicker layer of Void Essence.

William turned slightly, eyes seeming to look straight at me, though I knew he couldn't see me. "The thief was never on stage," he whispered, more to Irene than to me. "Maybe an illusionist. And every good illusionist always has an assistant behind the scenes."

He glanced toward the linen storage room where Timothee had gone. Then, he gave a thin smile. "I think we just need to find the assistant."

They continued down the corridor, leaving me alone in the dark.

I didn't move for several minutes. My mind raced. Damn it, they knew. They were too sharp for this variable. They didn't know it was me, but they'd understood my methodology. They hadn't fallen for the misdirection. William's cold logic and Irene's intuition had seen straight through my magic show.

My perfect plan had a fatal crack. I had accounted for mechanical and magical security systems. I had accounted for the staff's human weaknesses. I had accounted for the guards' reactions.

But I hadn't accounted for the presence of two other players on this chessboard who were just as clever as me.

I'd gotten in. I'd gotten the artifact. But I hadn't gotten out yet. And now, the academy's two sharpest predators were hunting these same corridors with me still inside.