After Jeff won, I spent the next hour filling the silence and trying—but failing—to keep Ellen from talking. She had no business using her throat, and the few words she managed to croak out were hoarse whispers I could barely understand. Worse, every time she tried, the machines wired to her started beeping. So, with only my voice and the sound of hospital machines to fill the silence, I rambled on about whatever I could come up with. I knew she was frustrated, but it was better than letting the quiet press in.

  In a way, it was a miracle when Jeff walked through the door.

  “So, that’s that. It’ll be Deborah and Ophelia in the semi-finals,” he said.

  Ellen rolled her eyes as best she could. I mirrored it.

  “Sorry,” Jeff said. “I know it’s too soon, but I want to start discussing those fights with Kade. We’re going to need to be ready for either of them—and we already know all of each other’s tricks. Our match is going to be a real show.”

  “What about…” Ellen trailed off, swallowing painfully. Then her hand raised up, and she made a pencil-holding motion.

  “I’ll go get one,” I said, and I stepped out into the hall to find a nurse’s station.

  The whole thing was a mess. I’d figured Ellen had even odds of winning against Deborah, but it hadn’t even been a fight. Ophelia might be able to take her—the exclusion zone was a powerful Unique—but I wouldn’t bet money on it at this point. Whatever Deborah had done to push herself past the limits of the Fallen Delvers Portal, she was extremely dangerous now. I’d never seen a tank hit anywhere near that hard, or that fast. She was almost striker-level.

  I needed to figure her out. There had to be something. My phone sat in my hoodie pocket, and for a moment, I thought about pulling it out and trying to understand what Deborah had done to Ellen. If I watched, slowed it down, and watched over and over again, I’d probably see something. There had to be a clue to what Deborah was doing.

  Ellen needed me, though. She needed that pencil and notepad. So I followed through on my mission, borrowed something from the nurse’s station, and came back.

  She took it and held it high over her head, then started writing in shorthand.

  O no beat D

  Too + power

  Jeff stared at the paper, then he shrugged. “I’m not convinced. The tournament isn’t about power. It’s about endurance. We talked about that earlier, and Ophelia’s built to outlast opponents. Look what she did to Caleb last round. If anyone can beat Deborah, it’s that sociopath.”

  “I’m not sure.” I pulled out my phone and watched the fight—on mute, so Ellen couldn’t hear herself almost die. Just watching it seemed cruel enough, but I didn’t have a choice. “Ophelia takes about three seconds to get set up. Think Deborah could get to her inside of that time?”

  Y

  “That’s what I thought, Ellen.”

  “No tank’s that fast,” Jeff interrupted.

  As we argued back and forth about the Deborah Callahan vs. Ophelia St. Vrain fight, though, none of us met the others’ eyes. Ellen had an excuse; she literally couldn’t meet our eyes unless we loomed over her. But after almost fifteen minutes, I hadn’t looked at Jeff once, and he hadn’t looked at me.

  The reality, just like he’d said, was that we had a fight coming up. All through the tournament, we’d been allies. We’d practiced with each other, and that training had set up our victories in every round so far. But now, things had changed. Ellen was out. Of the two of us, only one would make it to the final round. Only one of us would enter the Fallen Delvers portal and claim the prize inside.

  Jeff needed it more than I did. Everything about his body language screamed it.

  But I wanted it just as much as him.

  The only thing I knew for sure was that it’d be one hell of a fight. He might be capped at C-Rank, but between his taunt skill and Retaliate, there was every chance of a single slip-up on my part throwing the match. For the next couple of days, my best friend was also my biggest enemy.

  ?▼?

  Robert Traynor, CEO and controlling stakeholder in the corporation that bore his family name, loved his baby girl.

  He’d sacrificed the last string of his relationship with his biological daughter to take care of the child he’d wanted all along—one that was strong, self-sufficient, but still needed him to guide her. It had hurt, but opportunity waited for no one.

  And he’d been right. His family had grown at precisely the right moment—his acquisition of the Overholz Company looked like a brilliantly-timed move, and their blueprints, patents, and ‘trade secrets’ all sat on his desk. More importantly, they sat on the desk of Traynor Corporation engineers, and in the computer-controlled forges and assembly lines of Traynor Corporation manufacturing plants. And even better, Rebecca Overholz was stuck in Phoenix, able to answer any questions the engineers had.

  In the next day—two at the most—Traynor-Overholz Cannons would start showing up on the 303 Wall. Rebecca Overholz had insisted on the hyphenated name. Bob hated it. It felt like a stepchild, not like one of his brilliant schemes. But a stepchild was better than nothing. And it was better than a runaway, prodigal daughter.

  The Traynor Corporation’s newest creations would tip the scales of the siege—and with them, they’d tip the balance of power between delvers like that headstrong, willful child of his and men like him. Not him, specifically. Bob Traynor wasn’t the kind of man to stand on the walls and fight. He was a logistics man. The type of father who won the bread behind the scenes, not the kind to fight for his children’s dinners.

  He stopped outside the door to his daughter’s hospital room and hesitated. This was her last chance to rejoin the family business, fall in line, and help raise her sister.

  Then he knocked.

  Kade Noelstra and the big man who’d broken into his estate stood up. A weapon appeared out of nowhere in Kade’s hand, crackled with lightning, then disappeared just as quickly. “It’s you,” the boy growled.

  “I came as soon as I heard, Ellen,” Bob said. He steeled himself and stepped past Kade to close in on the bed where his daughter lay.

  Or he tried to.

  A hand clamped onto his shoulder, and he found himself stopped completely. Bob tried to pull away, but the hand felt like a vice, and the more he tried to shake it off, the harder it squeezed. It was impossible; the hospital’s rooms were equipped with Traynor anti-enhancements that reduced the patient’s System attunement so an A-Rank delver wouldn’t accidentally pulverize a nurse while semi-conscious. They were the same tech in every sparring room, but Kade’s grip seemed to power right through it—right through his company’s tech.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Unless…

  Was he just that strong by default?

  “She doesn’t want you here,” Kade said.

  “Get your hand off me. I—“

  “I don’t really care what you threaten me with, Bob,” Kade said. “She doesn’t want you here. That’s the only thing that matters.”

  “I’ll let her decide that!” Bob took a deep breath to calm himself down and tried to turn to face Ellen. She was writing something on a notepad held high over her face, but she kept scowling and crossing things out.

  After a minute, she swallowed, still staring up at the ceiling. The motion sent a wave of pain across her face, and Bob nodded just slightly. She was weak. This was his moment.

  “No…”

  “No what?” he asked.

  “Leave…”

  Tears rolled down Bob’s daughter’s face as she whispered the word, a croaking, pained sound that somehow left nothing unsaid. She stared at the ceiling, and Kade’s hand tightened on Bob’s shoulder.

  “It’s time to go.”

  Less than a second later, he found himself back outside the room, staring at the shut door as he leaned against the hallway wall.

  He breathed, trying to calm himself. Then, after a moment, he laughed softly. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered; all he’d been doing was assuaging his conscience. Giving his birth-daughter one more chance to help take care of his baby. If she didn’t want back in, that was fine.

  Soon, he’d be the only game in town. The Traynor-Overholz Cannons were just the start, and in six months—a year at most—delvers would be obsolete and on their way to extinction.

  Starting with Kade Noelstra.

  ?▼?

  Jessie held the moonlight-colored core in her hands as she watched the news back at the Desert Wind’s building.

  According to the reports, Ellen was fine. The tournament’s semi-final round was set. Kade was more than capable of killing Jeff, so Jessie wasn’t worried about her big brother at all. She’d been worried about Ellen, of course, but Kade hadn’t been picking up his phone, so she hadn’t been able to get more than the news reports. The shadow mage was out for a couple of days, but with the healers’ help, she’d make a full recovery. Not ideal, but not a disaster.

  The rest of the news, though, wasn’t even that good. The siege was getting worse; the brass-and-silk monsters outside of Mesa had started focusing their attention on a single gate, throwing wave after wave of ever-adapting clockwork abominations at Mesa and keeping the rest of the city surrounded. Probing attacks, for now—but that’d change the moment the monsters made headway. If the A and S-Rankers faltered, it’d get messy out there.

  Kade needed to win this tournament.

  It didn’t really matter who won, of course. The Fallen Delvers portal was supposed to hold a prize that’d turn the tide of battle, break the siege—all sorts of promises. Jessie wasn’t sure she believed all the hype. It had gotten so bad that even her super-secret Outer Council emails were convinced that the Fallen Delvers Weapon was going to save the city—and the rest of Phoenix’s internal internet was even worse.

  J-Dawg: You don’t believe any of this, right?

  Yreanne: Dude. Why not believe it? What are the other options?

  User295: I mean, you could look to tech. There’s rumors something big is coming on that front.

  Yreanne: Sounds like total bullshit to me.

  J-Dawg: Okay. So. Mixed opinions. Got it. I’ve got a working translation for the Hyperboreans’ language now, thanks to some stuff I literally cannot talk about. Want to see it?

  J-Dawg: It’s pretty neat

  Yreanne: Nah. Gimme the puzzle pieces now that it’s solved, but not the answer. Bet I can figure it out in two days.

  User295: You’re buns at this, Yreanne.

  Jessie closed her computer and went back to pondering the moonlight core.

  There was another option. An option that was, in her mind, better than relying on the rumor of a super-weapon in a portal, or in the equally sketchy whispers that Bob Traynor was onto something that’d change the siege.

  She’d been studying up on sieges, and they rarely ended in an assault. Historically, the people inside typically ran out of food or got sick, and without outside help, they had little choice but to surrender. That wasn’t on the table here. There would be no surrender. But there also wouldn’t be outside help.

  That is, there wouldn’t be outside help unless someone could change the rules. Unless someone could bring that help directly into Phoenix.

  And she was perfectly positioned to start navigating the Ghostmarket on behalf of the city.

  She pondered the core in her hand some more. Then she turned the TV off and stood up. It was time to start putting her own plans into motion.

  ?▼?

  The B-Rank portal world the God of Thunder had selected as his neutral ground roiled as his aura pushed out across it. The sheer strength of his storm crushed all opposition, including the portal’s boss monster, in seconds, and the portal’s collapse timer started. The air shimmered and wavered as the world began to fall apart.

  He had an hour.

  If the Paragon whose presence he requested arrived in the next few minutes, they could be done in less than half of that. Below him, the Infernal portal world slowly collapsed into the abyss. Eugene contemplated the decaying stone walkways and dying monsters all around him. It was unfortunate that the two of them couldn’t meet in a truly neutral environment, but the Crone wanted no part in whatever the God of Thunder and the Placid King were involved in.

  He was sure now. The Placid King was the Paragon interfering in his affairs on Earth.

  For almost a minute, the God of Thunder stared at the world as it disintegrated around him. He could have veiled his power as he had in Queen Mother Yalerox’s world, but there was no need. The B-Rank Infernal portal had no value to him or to any of his Paragons—and the Placid King wouldn’t benefit from it at all, either.

  Kade had been lucky. The portal metal-lined room and Eugene’s ability to reduce his power to a ‘mere’ SS-Rank level had kept his strength from causing permanent damage to the low-ranked world around him—but only for a handful of minutes. The shadow mage was worth a risk of that level, but not any further. Eugene knew that Kade believed she was essential to him. That she had value. Puppy love. It was almost repulsive. There would come a time when Kade would have to abandon that line of thinking and see even a Dual Skill Progression partner—or even a sister—for the objective value they brought.

  A new aura pushed out, fighting against his wall of thunderclouds and wind, and Eugene focused on it. It was calm, and on its surface, stabilizing. The world ceased its collapse wherever it touched. But the God of Thunder knew that what he was seeing wasn’t true tranquility. It was stasis.

  The Placid King had arrived.

  A massive, multi-limbed elemental composed entirely of the blackest water from the deepest cracks of an ocean world opened its dozens of pale yellow eyes and stared at the God of Thunder. His draconic form was dwarfed by the sheer overwhelming size of the Paragon of the Stillwave Path. But all Eugene felt was contempt. Size, especially at the power level they both possessed, meant nothing.

  “What do you want, Thunder God?” the Placid King asked. His voice echoed across Eugene’s side of the portal world, but didn’t seem to carry into the caverns that held the Stillwave Paragon’s league-long limbs.

  “I demand that you confess to interference with the world known as Earth. I staked my claim on Kade Noelstra, and there’s nothing of value beyond him. Why are your filthy tendrils on my world?” Eugene asked.

  “What interference? What proof?”

  The God of Thunder’s aura pushed out almost lazily. He recognized an attack against him—the Placid King’s aura had made inroads. All around him, the storm broke, and lightning shattered the remaining paths on his side of the Infernal portal world. “The signs of your interference are everywhere. Do you deny it?”

  Stillness from the Placid King. His myriad eyes closed. For a moment, the God of Thunder wondered if his opponent had fallen asleep.

  No.

  “I do not. Earth has become the cornerstone of my ascension, Thunder God. I demand that you cede it to me and allow my allies to finish their conquest. Withdraw your Paragon if you have to, but the world and the rest of its people belong to me.”

  The God of Thunder nodded. The confession was all he was after. His suspicions were confirmed. He stared at the Placid King’s massive body; one of those tendrils of dark water connected to Earth. Rage and righteous fury filled him in equal measure, and lightning crackled with his every breath.

  But no. This wasn’t the place for it, or the time. Eliminating the Placid King would take time and energy. It would set the God of Thunder back by decades or centuries, and not even the kid’s core would make up for that loss.

  “Is that all?” Eugene asked carelessly. “I say no.”

  “Fine. But you labor under a false assumption, Thunder God.” The Placid King paused and stretched out his massive body, filling the void where the portal world had once existed. He waited for almost a minute. “I require Earth. And I will have it—one way or another.”

  “What are you rambling about?” the God of Thunder asked.

  The Placid King told him.

  And when the blackwater elemental finished his explanation, Eugene turned and vanished into his golden portal, returning to his own world. The Placid King held his own ascension at knife-point, and the God of Thunder needed to maneuver very carefully if he wanted to save Kade Noelstra’s core.

  The kid’s life was nothing but an afterthought, the God of Thunder told himself as he settled down and started to plan. He almost believed it, too.

  ANNOUNCEMENT!