Rhys hadn’t thought it was possible to feel sicker, for his stomach to feel colder, but somehow, it did. Shit. He knows everything.

  Scrap everything. We start over. It’s the only option.

  What do I do? Where do I go from here?

  How much does he know? He knows about the mark-editing. Does he know about Soma? Does he know the rest of the plan?

  “Virgil, I presume?” he replied, as if he didn’t know.

  The cold voice laughed. “Give up, child. You’re dealing with forces you cannot comprehend.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can comprehend your weak politician ass,” Rhys replied without thinking.

  There was silence on the other end of the communication amulet.

  Rhys cleared his throat. Okay. Let’s tone down the spice and tone up the panic. “What have you done with Lira? With Sable?”

  Across from him, Sable frowned and tilted her head. She pointed at herself.

  Rhys waved his hand, indicating for her to keep quiet. I don’t want him to know I have you. You’re one of the few allies I have at hand that he doesn’t know about.

  The voice chuckled. “So you’ve noticed. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “H-how’d you find out?” Rhys stuttered. He looked at the communication amulet. In his world, it was possible to track people through their communication amu—through their cell phones. Was the same thing possible here?

  Probably best to assume it is. Soma had given him the amulet. Virgil couldn’t know that he’d found Sable, so either Soma had betrayed him, or the fake Lira had felt that she hadn’t done a good enough job acting, and had told Virgil the gig was up. Between the two, he wanted to bet it was the fake Lira, though honestly, he hadn’t noticed anything; if he hadn’t run into Sable, he wouldn’t have worried at all.

  Point was, if Soma had betrayed him, then the amulet was one hundred percent trackable. If Soma hadn’t, there was still a decent chance that the fake Lira had either gotten to and marked the amulet, or given it to him in the first place. Rhys glanced up, then drew The Hunger. Beside him, without needing a word, Sable silently unsheathed her bony limbs. She started to draw away, making room for her to fight, but Rhys shook his head and gestured her closer. He was forming a plan right now, and if it was going to work, he needed Sable within arm’s reach.

  Virgil laughed. “I’ve known everything since the start. It was simply time to nip this little rebellion in the bud.”

  “Soma, is he—”

  “In prison. Awaiting torture.”

  “I bet he’s just dying of anticipation.”

  “…”

  “I mean, oh no! Soma! My ally! He hates torture! I must save him as soon as possible!”

  Even Sable gave him a look at that one.

  Rhys coughed. Well, at least I can rule out Soma betraying me, probably. Which means he just decided it was time for the fake Lira to reveal herself. Then again, we can check that, too. “Wh-what about Lira?”

  A dry laugh.

  “Sable?”

  “You should give up on seeing your friends ever again.”

  Guess he isn’t fully tipping his hand. He thinks I don’t know about fake Lira. Rhys thought for a moment, then shrugged. It was like how he wasn’t giving up that he had real Sable. On the other hand, Virgil wasn’t bragging about having Lira ready to torture, either, so there was every possibility that Lira was free, safe, and off living her best life with a new face and new appearance, having totally forgotten about Rhys and all his troubles. After all, if he’d had her, there was no reason to remain cagey about fake Lira; he might as well brag that he had Lira for torture, whether it was real Lira or not.

  But if it was just fake Lira, bragging about her threatened tipping his hand and required him to put her in some kind of fake prison, whereas if he simply said nothing, there was a possibility he could use her flexibly in the future—whether she would ‘escape’ from him, run into Rhys unexpectedly, or anything else. Basically, she went from a powerful, flexible lever and potential future betrayer to a bargaining chip. If Rhys didn’t know she was evil, then better to keep her flexible.

  As for Mouse, Rhys knew she was on Virgil’s side, and Virgil knew she was on Virgil’s side, and as far as Rhys knew, Virgil thought he couldn’t remember she existed at all. Bringing her up was a mistake; there was value in letting Virgil think he’d forgotten her, just as there was value on Virgil’s side in letting Rhys forget.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Man, we’re really playing 5-D chess today.

  Rhys attached a bit of trash to the communication amulet to keep it floating near his face while he rifled in his storage ring with his other hand. “Good thing you’ll never catch me. I’m coming, and when I do, I’ll make you regret you ever… uh… Kidnapped my friends? I think that’s how it goes?”

  He wasn’t that good at memorizing lines. The gist was bout the best he could do. To be honest, he’d never even seen the movies about taking people, so it was a memory of a meme rather than a memory of a scene, which was the trashiest kind of memory to have, and yet, all his powers couldn’t dredge the perfect line out of the depths of his brain.

  In the distance, he sensed mana signatures closing in on him. It was go time. He finally found what he was looking for, and pulled a gauntlet out of the trash—ahem, his storage ring, along with one of his quick-void loops. He tossed the loop at Sable and mouthed, “Retreat for now. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She blinked at him and tilted her head.

  Okay. To be fair, that was a lot of lip reading. He mimed climbing into the hoop, then pointed at himself and the hoop, and mimed him climbing into the hoop.

  Sable nodded. She stepped into the hoop. Rhys put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her through, then stood in the hoop himself.

  “You think I can’t find you?” Virgil chuckled darkly. He had a good dark chuckle, Rhys had to admit. True villain energy. Though, then again, he was a politician. If he didn’t have a good dark chuckle, what even was he? A clown?

  “Yeah! You’ll never find me!” Rhys said. To match Virgil’s dark chuckle, he used all the enthusiasm of a shounen protagonist. For effect, he even clenched his fist and punched the air. Speaking of—he bent, and placed the gauntlet beside the hoop, its fingers outstretched to grab the hoop.

  “So you haven’t realized?” Virgil asked, still in that dark villain voice.

  Rhys glanced up. Three mages closed in on him, all of them Tier 3. He sighed, then lowered his trash star to burn at a Tier 3 level. Might as well make this a fun fight instead of roflstomping them. “What? Huh? What do you mean?”

  There was a pause. “Are you mocking me?”

  “I’ll be honest, I really haven’t stopped mocking you,” Rhys said. He made a mental note of his spot—even drew an x under the hoop—then spread his stance and held The Hunger at the ready.

  “Do you not fear the Alliance?”

  “Nah.”

  “Then I’ll teach you what you ought to—”

  “Yo,Virgin—Virgil. Listen. I don’t fear a whole lot. I’m kinda trash like that. So listen. I’m gonna trash your men, I’m gonna disappear without a trace, and then you’re gonna wrack that fearful little coward brain of yours figuring out how to deal with me, and you know what?”

  Virgil paused for a long time. The mages closed in on Rhys, hurtling down. At last, seconds before they struck, he asked: “What?”

  Rhys grinned. Gottem. “You’re not going to figure out a damn thing you can do to stop me. Because I’m un-fucking-stoppable. And your ass is grass.”

  There was another pause. “What?”

  “Talk to ya later, bitch. I got problems to handle.” Rhys crushed the communication amulet in his free hand and absorbed the scraps, making sure to crush them down so small no tracking spell or enchantment could possibly survive, then leaped at the incoming mages.

  Not my best work, but I did emphasize the important part—vanishing ‘without a trace.’ That basically guaranteed that Virgil sent someone to check and see if he’d left any traces, and oh, I’ll be leaving a trace, baby.

  It was 5-D chess o’clock, and Rhys was so ready.

  The lead mage drew a sword. Rhys threw The Hunger. The man raised his sword to parry it, and The Hunger polluted the sword and crashed right through, tearing a filthy hole through his chest. Rhys lifted his hand, recalling The Hunger, as the other two mages paused and the third fell off his flying artifact and dropped, screaming, to the ground.

  Rhys gestured them on. “Come on. What’s the holdup? Aren’t you supposed to kill me?”

  One of them turned and fled. Rhys threw The Hunger, piercing him through his back. His limbs flew out, and he toppled off his flying sword and hit the ground. The other one charged in, and Rhys recalled The Hunger, then hesitated. I kinda don’t want him to die. It’s the smoothest way for me to make sure Virgil picks up my no-traces that I’m definitely not leaving on purpose.

  It did make him wonder why Virgil had sent three Tier 3s, but then—the answer was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? The Alliance didn’t have a whole lot of Tier 4s and above. They couldn’t just throw them at Rhys in a yolo attempt to kill him. If they engaged him with Tier 4s deliberately, they’d definitely throw a sure-kill trap rather than just yeeting him at them.

  Rhys closed in on the third mage. They put up a good fight, summoning a bird projection that flew at him. Rhys abruptly remembered the ermine projection he’d stolen, then sighed. I meant to capture that thing, but I guess once I stopped powering it, it just faded away. Still, he had a projection of his own. He called forth the rats, and they swarmed the man. He shrieked and waved his hand, calling his bird back to pluck off the rats, but the rats were more powerful and numerous. They churned up, pulling the bird down into their depths, then massed on the man, biting and infecting him with impurities until he finally passed out.

  Before they could eat the man down to the bone, Rhys snapped his fingers and dismissed them. He crossed to the other two bodies and absorbed them, then pulled the impurities out of the unconscious man. He jolted back to consciousness, but Rhys just grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into the earth until he went limp again. That concluded, Rhys stepped into his hoop and vanished into the void with Sable.

  Sable crossed her arms. “I wanted to fight.”

  “You’re too important. You’re like, a 4th-D rook, okay? I need to keep you a secret so when you appear, it’s a big impact, you know what I mean?”

  She gave him a look that told him she didn’t at all and shook her head.

  “I’m keeping you back now so you can do a really big fight later.”

  Sable’s eyes widened, and she nodded slowly, understanding.

  Rhys looked around, then took Sable’s hand and flew them both through the void. Before long, he found what he was looking for—the void gauntlet. Slipping his hand in this side of it, he manipulated the one on the outside to crush the hoop, then walked it over and gripped the back of the final man’s head with it. There. Nice and obvious. It looks like I left in a hurry and forgot a tool.

  Maybe it was a bit too obvious, but there was nothing he could do about that. He released the void gauntlet and flew to his island, where he finally released Sable. “Welcome to my secret island.”

  “Can I fight here?” Sable asked.

  “Er… not right now. Don’t worry. We fight soon,” Rhys promised.

  “We’d better.”