Jace stepped forward and leaned over the counter, trying to see what was going on, but he didn’t have to wait long. A puff of steam wafted out from the kitchen, then a small kyborg sprinted out, laughing and cackling in its mechanical language.

  Jace stepped back, narrowing his eyes. A cook, wearing a black apron, with her hair tied up in a bun, swatted at the kyborg with a broom shouting something in a different language. It was probably Phélese.

  The kyborg scampered up onto the front counter, scattering utensils, takeout boxes, and knocking a tray of fried meat off the counter. It was about the size of a small cat, if that cat could stand on its back legs. Its head was a wide circle with a single mechanical eye in its center. A long neck joined it to an armless body. White paint covered most of its form, but there were a few streaks of red.

  It turned toward the cook, then sputtered in Mekanik. Flaps opened in the sides of its head, and then mechanical appendages poked out. Soldering needles, drills, manipulator arms, a holoprojector.

  Jace stepped back, narrowly dodging a manipulator arm. They kyborg, however, jumped down off the counter and scurried behind Jace’s leg, like it was taking shelter.

  “Shoo,” he whispered, trying to nudge it away with his leg. It didn’t budge.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten so close to it,” Lessa replied with a giggle.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a scamper kyborg,” she replied. “A repair bot, for crawling along on the outsides of starships, stuff like that.”

  “So you guys do know what a robot is,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nevermind.” He tried to shoo the scamper kyborg away again, but it darted behind his other leg.

  The cursory understanding of Mekanik that he’d picked up in the past few months told him that the kyborg was afraid. It’d said something about danger. It was probably worried about what the cooks were going to do to it.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Jace said to the cook and the cashier. “I don’t know who or what it is…”

  “It’s got third-level sapience,” Lessa said. “The highest possible in a kyborg.”

  Jace glanced back at the cooks, then paid them an extra Solar in advance, even if it hadn’t been his fault. He had the coin to spare.

  “What happened?” he asked the cooks, then looked down at the kyborg, hoping it’d be able to tell him the same thing.

  “It crashed into our kitchen!” the cook with the broom exclaimed.

  “I don’t know where it came from,” a second cook said.

  “I’ll…uh, bring it to the police, then,” Jace said. “It’s not ours.”

  The kyborg clanked and sputtered, again telling Jace something about fear. “Wait…was that something about Watchmen?”

  Lessa’s eyes widened. “It said it was being chased by…”

  She trailed off the moment a trio of Watchmen emerged from around the side of the market stall. It was the [Level 43] and [Level 15] pair from earlier, and another [Level 47] Watchman with a black cloak had joined them. None of them had drawn their Whistling Blades yet, but one held a silver cylinder about the size of a pen.

  Jace sighed and raised his hands. “It’s not ours, I promise.”

  “Then why’s it hiding behind your leg, hm?” the young [Level 15] Watchman demanded. He was probably two years younger than Jace.

  “I…don’t know,” Jace said. “Why’s he running from you? What did you guys do to it?” Probably not the best question to ask three angry Watchmen, but he also knew that in general, disagreeing with the Watchmen was probably a good thing.

  Out the corner of his eye, he faintly registered Lessa picking up the two takeout boxes. She wasn’t subtle about it, but it was a good move. Jace didn’t want to leave his lunch behind either.

  “That’s none of your business,” the young Watchman snapped.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Patience, my apprentice,” the [Level 43] Watchman asserted, stepping forward. “That kyborg is wanted as evidence. He is suspected of colluding with a no-executed criminal. A light Wielder.”

  Finally, the [Level 47] Watchman stepped forward, holding the silver cylinder out. “Enough talk.” He pressed a button on the cylinder’s top, and a pulse of electricity surged through the device. It let out a high-pitched whine, barely audible to Jace, but it made the scamper kyborg fold down and tuck its head away. A pulse of electricity sputtered out the side of its body, and it let out a pained cry.

  Jace narrowed his eyes. He could tell when a creature was in pain well enough. He’d seen plenty of pained animals back home on the ranch, and it never felt okay. “Stop that,” he said. “You’re hurting it.”

  “Kyborg lover, are you?” the young Watchman asked.

  Jace sighed, then reigned his breathing under control. These guys were higher level, and though they probably hadn’t been paying attention to their spiritual senses, Jace didn’t need them to start. They’d find out he was a Wielder, and that was the last thing he needed.

  He glanced at Lessa. She didn’t have her exo-suit, but the two of them would still be more maneuverable. They could escape. They shared an understanding nod.

  Jace glanced down at the kyborg. He had a feeling that the little robot wasn’t in the wrong, especially if the Watchmen were after it. “You better not be more trouble than you’re worth,” Jace whispered. He reached over to the counter and picked up a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks in a plastic wrapper.

  “Alright,” Jace told the Watchmen. “Last chance. Back off.”

  It wasn’t going to work. Why would that ever work?

  The Watchmen laughed.

  “Right, then.” Jace triggered [Wanderer’s Banishment] and flung the chopsticks through hyperspace, aiming for the cylinder and the Watchman’s hand. He probably had enough Vitality to survive the impact with his hand intact, but…

  But the cylinder didn’t. Whatever the device was—some sort of kyborg torture device—it exploded on impact, sending shards of steel surging into the ground and ripping gashes in the platform. They didn’t penetrate all the way through, thankfully. No unnecessary collateral damage.

  Jace scooped up the little kyborg in his arms, then turned and sprinted away. The mechanical creature twitched and sparked, but best he could tell, it wasn’t dead.

  “Come back here!” the [Level 15] Watchman shouted. His voice cracked at the end of his shout. Still, he triggered a dark-aspect technique card, a fortification card. Jace only caught a glance of it…but was that [Blackvein]? It must have been a standard card for the Watchment to carry now.

  The boy leapt at Jace, but Jace whirled around mid-step, and without triggering a card, swatted the boy with a backhand. Jace’s Resistance was enough to keep him on his feet, and his Strength still outmatched whatever the boy could throw at him.

  The boy skidded across the food court and crashed through a table, scattering an abandoned tray. He hit his head hard on the floor and didn’t get back up. As best Jace could tell, he wasn’t dead, but he wasn’t getting back into the fight any time soon.

  Maybe he’d learned his lesson. Probably not.

  His master, the [Level 43] Wielder, went

  The Watchman with the black cloak unclasped it and let it fall off his shoulders. He turned to face Jace and grinned. “A light Wielder, hm? Feel some affinity for the bot? You knew it’s old owner, hm?” He shook out his hand. A few streaks of blood ran across the palm—the only sign of Jace’s attack.

  He wasn’t a human. He had olive skin, but instead of hair, jellyfish tentacles ran down the back of his head, swaying like they were underwater.

  [Level 47]. The guy was the same level as Jace was. Jace probably could win, but he didn’t really want to fight at all, not when the market was as crowded as it was.

  Not to mention, it was mostly pointless.

  But the guy wasn’t going to let him get away with this, not easily. He stomped down and triggered a forging card, and a wall of shadows sprang up in front of Lessa and Jace, blocking their way.

  Jace rolled his eyes, groaned, then turned back toward the Watchman. Lessa shifted the takeout boxes under her arm, then pulled her rifle off her back and charged it. Though it wasn’t connected to her suit, she could still use it. She just couldn’t reload it.

  The Watchman triggered three cards in a row. Two utility cards, whose names and descriptions Jace missed. They stacked up circles of dark mist behind him.

  “He just buffed up his Resistance,” Lessa said. “And his Potency.”

  Then, finally, he triggered a fortification card of his own, [Voidvein]. Immediately, it consumed the buffs. Pressure radiated off the Watchman, and the air quivered, like Jace could see the wind.

  “He just increased his Strength,” Lessa said. “It’s over two hundred.”

  “I’d better not get hit,” Jace whispered back.

  Before the Watchman attacked, he triggered one more fortification card, and a circle of dark mist enclosed them, preventing Jace and Lessa from escaping in any other direction (aside from the wall he’d already made). Jace could probably cross it with a hyperjump, but this guy was bothering him, now.

  “A little overkill, don’t you think?” Jace asked.

  “To purge a light Wielder, there is no such thing as overkill,” the Watchman responded. Tendrils of darkness wrapped around his entire body, and the tentacles reaching out the back of his head crackled with black lightning. He drew his Whistling Blade, revealing a sickly, pale-green glass.

  “Well, then,” Jace said. “I’ll make this quick.”

  Whether his confidence was warranted or not, he couldn’t say yet. He glanced back at Lessa. “Can you see how many Foundation Pillars?”

  “Five,” she whispered.

  “So he’s used up all his cards.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jace snorted, then said, “Look for an opening. I’ll keep him off you.” He shifted the kyborg under his arm, then triggered [Hyperdash] and leapt into the fray.