AA. 176

“You really enjoy this kind of work, don’t you?” Nil asked, walking arm-in-arm with his girlfriend. She clung to him, playing the role of honeymooning, love-struck bride brilliantly.

“Canvasing?” Selia used an almost mocking tone as she spoke the word. “No. But tailing? Infiltrating? Doing all this spy stuff? I love it. It lets me be more than just me.”

“Just you? What’s wrong with just you?”

“What’s not wrong with me?” Selia laughed. “Socially inept. Inappropriate. Unaware of boundaries. I handled the Susan thing all wrong. She’s at fault, but the jibes were unnecessary. She didn’t even respond in kind and left me feeling like an immature fool.”

“I love you who you are,” Nil said. “A lot. I’ll admit it took a while to get used to you, but—”

“Being someone else is a nice escape, not from you or my life now but from everything that came before it.” Selia pecked his cheek. “It's just fun to be someone else and imagine what kind of life they had and how they ended up in their current position. Don't take it personally. Alright?”

“I get it. It's not about me. But it's important you know that you're great as you are.” Selia’s volume dropped to a whisper. “I think it's time for us to split up.”

The boy they had followed thus far slowed in front of a factory. He had remained relaxed for the past hour as the couple followed him, chatting with shopkeepers and guards and even playing with a cat. He seemed like an ordinary young man in his early teens, but Nil couldn't shake the unease. The aura faltered, and the noxious feeling returned for a moment.

“I felt it that time too,” Selia stated. Her sensory abilities had improved significantly after her time with the Weave. 

Regularly cultivating with Nil and guiding others on the path seemed to sharpen her new sixth sense. She grabbed Nil and pushed him to a shopfront, pretending to gush over an intricate brass pot. The basement-level shops featured mostly metal tools, utensils, weapons, armor, and complex machinery. It seemed to cater to the working class and the average guard or hunter. The man glanced past the couple as he scanned his surroundings. After a moment of fidgeting and pretending to look for a dropped item, he headed in. Selia wasted no time and chase followed, becoming hard to spot as she phased through a wall.

Nil ensured no one was watching before scaling the factory’s side to an opening made for a crane system. He didn't bother with Expend. Supercharged speed was enough, and Absorb ensured he made no noise. 

It seemed the basement level far predated the above floors. The walls were rougher and more worn, with a good deal of the construction not matching the rest of Sable. The level also had the highest ceiling of all, suggesting Sable might’ve started as an underground settlement. Given the heat and steam, it made sense for people to live in the region when the world was still an ice cube.

The dark stone and poor lighting above street level made it easier for Nil to go unnoticed. Sunset had just passed when the party arrived at Sable, and it was late at night. The low foot traffic gave Nil more freedom to sit and analyze his surroundings before entering the building. He saw nothing but a mostly industrial district and shift workers heading home or to their jobs.

Once in position and satisfied, Nil contacted Susan through the temporary tattoo.

“We found something suspicious,” he whispered. “It might be nothing, but we've tailed a target and are following him into a factory in the basement level.” He paused, peeking through the opening. “It's about a kilometer left from the central shaft, makes gears, and has a cog soldier statue by the door. If we need assistance, we'll let you know.”

“My hands are full right now,” Susan replied ten seconds later. “Hati smelled something fishy off a servant and is tailing him. I'm chatting up his master, and I think he's into shady shit. It might not be Scourge shady, but fishy enough to have a finger in all the major dirty pies around the city.”

“Don't make a move without telling us. This might be nothing. We'll make our way up after making sure.”

“What precisely did you detect?” Susan asked.

“It's hard to explain,” Nil answered. “There is this thirteen or fourteen-year-old kid with an anti-magic or anti-detection field. It faltered a couple of times, and I got sickly feeling when it did. The sensation wasn't quite that of Cursed Energy, but I got this similar, sickly, skin-crawling feeling.”

“You might be onto something,” Susan replied after a brief silence. “Scourge Champions who can cultivate and circulate Cursed Energy and Qi simultaneously. The mages use Cursed Energy and mana at the same time. They use a combination of both to fuel techniques and spells, respectively. This might be an apprentice or an inexperienced champion-in-training who needs to recast their spell at regular intervals. What you're sensing is the dip when the field resets, and they burn Cursed Energy.”

“Noted. I'll keep that in mind.”

“Good luck, and don't do anything stupid.”

“You too, Susan. Don't get killed and make Andy hate me.”

“I won't,” she replied, sounding amused. “Keep Meatball ready for when you get hurt. If things go south, it might take me a while to get to you.”

“We’ll be fine, Susan. You take care of yourself.”

“That’s enough pleasantries,” Selia said. Nil had expected her to maintain silence while pursuing their target. “Get in here. Now.”

Nil complied with the request. The factory floor was busy. Machines whirred, chugged, and clanked. Silent workers in heavy aprons and goggles moved between them, using tools similar to what he’d seen in Andrew’s workshop. Nil stayed above them, hopping and leaping between pillars and fixtures. Centuries, if not several millennia of wear and tear, ensured he was never short of handholds.

The temporary tattoos came with a secondary tracking function. Nil rubbed four sections of it, and it hummed to life. The vibration of each bit changed, indicating his proximity to its twins. The section pointing up and back buzzed every five seconds, but the forward and down reacted at more regular intervals.

At first, the factory didn’t feature anything concerning. Nil found it challenging not to get distracted by the old-school machinery made more efficient than most modern practices with magic, but then the unease worsened as he delved deeper into the structure.

“Hurry up, please,” Selia whispered through the tattoo.

It took Nil a couple of minutes to reach her. Nil knew that Andrew had not long completed her soul weapon. It had the same chassis as the old version—a three-stage extendable spear that went from dagger to longsword to short-spear length. But the pair had remained secretive about the ability. Nil knew they had decided against a phasing ability for just the weapon. Both agreed that it was likely a natural development of cultivation-born techniques if not the natural power seed.

Instead, chains with the same color of dulled star metal extended from a door frame and wrapped around the boy they had been following, making him look like a fly trapped in a spider’s web. His eyes glowed orange, and black veins pressed against his skin. He shook, vibrating in place, and the light in his eyes pulsed. The chains holding him grew increasingly translucent as they got closer to the wall and resembled Selia’s semi-phased state when they met the walls. The conjured chains were no thicker than Nil’s thumb, and each link measured somewhere between two and three centimeters. Selia stood on the other side of the doorway, a solid chain extended from the wall and attached to the hilt of her weapon.

“I can’t hold him for long,” she told him. Selia nodded to the warehouse-like storage area behind her. “There is something in there he was trying to get to, whispering to. Have a look.” Selia appeared hesitant. “Careful. I heard movement.”

“Why not just take him out and go in together?” Nil asked. 

“Don’t you think I tried? It's taking almost everything I have to hold him. My energy is almost out. Just be quick. Alright?”

Nil squeezed past the struggling boy. His face was gaunt, and his skin had lost its color. A glimmer of Cursed Energy stirred within him. It wasn’t challenging to detect, but it felt distant and interwoven with the world’s ambient magic.

Maybe you can’t see it at first glance. Only a double take will do the job.

Things were similar in the warehouse. Powerful arcane signatures surrounded Nil, clouding  Energy Instinct’s detection abilities. He had to focus, pushing the ability’s detection ability to its limits. Then he felt it.

Energy Instinct has progressed to Bronze 2!

Nil followed his senses to a crate hidden at the far end of the warehouse. He moved with Absorb and supercharged speed, zipping around the maze of crates. Heavy boots scraping along the rough floor sounded around him. 

Porters? Guards? More Scourge agents?

No Cursed Energy radiated from them, and Nil struggled to find much even when he focused on each moving energy signature individually. So, he continued toward the flickering trace. It wasn’t long before he found the source. It was a towering, rune-covered metal container. Wards, reinforcements, and a lot more were in the way, but a distant mote of Cursed Energy lingered just behind it.

A Chaos blade did the job. Arcane sparks burst from the many lines and shapes running along the box’s sides. They sizzled, hissed, and buzzed. It sounded and smelled like fuses blowing out one after the other. Supercharged strength struggled with the slab he cut free. The material was denser, thicker, and far heavier than he imagined. It was magically enhanced, and the magic seemed to change the natural properties.

None of that intrigued or bothered Nil. His stomach dropped as a wave of nausea washed over him. It was an overwhelming noxious feeling, and the Energy Purification upgrade did little. The flow was powerful, seemingly endless, and unrelenting. Waist-high eggs filled the container. The leathery outer shells reminded Nil of a Cursed One’s mottled, twisted hide. Luminous tendrils pulsed under the surface, emitting faint pink, orange, and purple lights. The very appearance of them made Nil’s skin crawl. 

More crates in the distance made themselves known. Identifying one had highlighted them all. Similar containers filled the warehouse. 

The tattoo felt icy cold when Nil ran his fingers over it. “Eggs,” he whispered. “They’re bursting with Cursed Energy, and this place is fucking full of them. I don’t know what the Weave told you or what they expect. Something big is brewing.”

The eggs squirmed, the pulsations picking up speed. Thick dark smoke filled with the usual colorful motes rose from them, and something appeared to push at the insides. A clawed hand broke free, and a high-pitched whine followed.

“Get out of there,” Susan whispered. “Now!”

A distant screech echoed through the warehouse. More followed. 

Nil almost jumped out of his skin when Selia appeared through a container and took his hand. “She’s right.” The soul weapon had grown to its longsword length. Blood dripped from the leaf-shaped spreadhead. “We need to move.”

“What happened to the boy?” Nil asked.

“That thing wasn’t human anymore. I think.” Selia appeared uncomfortable and sickened. “I had to put him down.”

Clicking and chittering sounded all around them. The density of Cursed Energy was overwhelming.

“It’s too late,” Nil said. “We’ll have to fight our way out of here.” He pressed two fingers to the tattoo. “We might need you down here, Susan.”

“You’re on your own,” she replied. Noise and static made it challenging to hear her. Nil attributed the dense Cursed Energy to the disturbance. “I’m on to something big. If I don’t put this guy down, he’s going to do something big.”

“Where are you?” Selia demanded. “What are you doing?”

“I’m on his trail. As soon as he’s alone, I’m taking him out. Quick and dirty.”

“Good luck,” Nil told her. “Don’t die.”

“I don’t intend to,” Susan answered. The tattoo went cold, and her voice cut out. They were on their own.