“Make the wings thinner and add a dash of grey along the edges. The antennae are ok in size, but they should be a little longer,” Eleon instructed.

  They had been at it for hours. Billy developed a newfound respect for police artists who could sketch suspects from nothing but a victim’s half-panicked recollection.

  Using shapeshifting as a tool was far more difficult. His thousand-faced assassin form was proving to be useful.

  - Perfected Mirror: The Doppelganger may shapeshift into non-human forms and gain basic movement abilities.

  After a lot of cursing, trial and error, Billy finally managed to transform into a passable copy of an Imperial worker that would allow him entry into the Dungeons controlled by the Unfocused faction.

  He looked like a headless humanoid wasp with two sets of arms. Four eyes stared out from the palms of its hands.

  "Technically, he is a body servant for me, but in reality, Eleazar has tasked him with keeping me out of trouble. He is part bodyguard and part spy. I managed to give him the slip. He is supposed to be searching for me in the northern part of the city," Eleon explained.

  “You will raise no suspicion as long as you stand near me and let me do the talking.”

  “Let’s go,” Eleon said, as he jumped through the window, transforming into an eel-like creature capable of swimming through the air.

  Billy followed him, clumsily flying on his wasp wings.

  “I thought you had no magical powers at all,” Billy said as he flew alongside Eleon.

  “You thought that because I look completely human, didn’t you?” Eleon asked. He didn’t wait for a response.

  “Evolution doesn’t work that way. There are two main aspects to it: Intent and Form. Despite the deep-seated hatred between the Fluids and the Committed, they share one fundamental characteristic: their forms are based on a single function, or Intent, that encapsulates what Evolution has shaped each individual to be.

  Billy grimaced. Imperials always sounded reasonable when they explained why everyone else should accept their extinction.

  “Boral embodies the Enduring Intent—he is designed to survive anything.

  Andara represents the Understanding Intent—she is the intellectual of the group, and her mind is a powerful weapon.”

  “Fluids and Committed differ in Form. The Committed bodies are designed as the end of their evolutionary path, the most perfect form suited for their Intent. Fluids believe evolution is a never-ending process; their shapes always adapt to the situation at hand. Still, each Fluid also has an unchanging Intent that is the basis for its identity and the source of its powers.”

  “Which of the two is the most powerful?” asked Billy, not interested in the topic in the least. Imperials were a scourge. Imperials were a scourge. You didn’t invite the moles that ruined your crops in for tea before driving them out.

  “If I were to describe it using terminology similar to the Earth System, Committed possess higher stats, while Fluid individuals exhibit more flexible Competencies. However, even a Committed can improvise abilities that align with their Intent, and evolved Fluids also have impressive statistics.”

  “You are really an Unfocused, aren’t you?” Billy asked him.

  “Indeed, I am. The most Unfocused of them all,” chortled Eleon.

  “Unlike Committed and Fluids, Unfocused have more than one Intent. Most have two or three. We are multifaceted, just like ordinary humans. The more Intents you have, the more human your form stays. Unfortunately, dividing Intents in this way also results in weaker stats and less flexible powers. We may not be as powerful as the Committed or as adaptable as the Fluids, but neither are we limited to a single function,” Eleon explained.

  “How many Evolutions have you gone through, Eleon?” Billy asked.

  “Many. And I have always acquired a new Intent with each one. Most Imperials consider me an absurd waste of talent. My Intent is so diluted that my stats are barely twice those of a normal human. I can create a multitude of powers based on several different Intents, but they are always weak, with lots of cooldowns and restrictions.”

  “Why did you choose that path, Eleon? It seems defeatist to me,” Billy asked.

  “Because I refuse to let an idiot twenty-sided die, and his parrot-like attendant dictate how I should look,” Eleon replied.

  Billy took an instant liking to him.

  They arrived at the entrance to the old Guzzler’s Den, now known as the Lair of Bethella. This location served as headquarters for the Unfocused faction, which had not emerged unscathed from the Imperial civil war.

  Billy observed that parts of the palace Eleazar had built were scorched and damaged. Many members of the Unfocused were injured, with some even missing limbs.

  The rest were busy killing mobs and harvesting their cores, which they did with feverish haste.

  Billy noticed that all of the Imperials kept the cores they hunted.

  “After your friend stole all the cores right under their noses, no one dares to store them together anymore. Each Imperial is now responsible for safeguarding the specific cores assigned to them. Gala keeps track of how many cores each soldier possesses, as losing cores is heavily penalized,” Eleon explained.

  “That’s why soldiers from different factions attack each other with such gusto. They aim to steal enemy cores—sometimes to replace the ones they've lost and other times to trade with them.”

  While most of the Imperials ignored Eleazar, some greeted Billy. He waved back. It seems this guy is quite popular. That’s not good for me; it draws unwanted attention.

  Fortunately, the Thousand-Faced Assassin's abilities allowed him to cover mistakes using subtle spirit attacks.

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  Billy memorized the faces, body shapes, posture, and gait of at least twenty different Unfocused. He wanted to be ready to infiltrate any of the Unfocused dungeons without being discovered.

  “How are the progression cores being used? It seems to me most of the soldiers and the lower-evolved Imperials have not increased in power in the last few days?”

  “They are all being saved for the higher-ups,” Eleon answered. “All three factions are using the same tactics: be the first one to get Postulants, and as many of them as possible. With progression cores no longer easily accessible, the marathon has suddenly become a sprint. All three factions are desperate to be the first to claim the tenth evolution.”

  “All the Progression dungeons are pretty similar, probably the product of having been born from identical seeds—a central mass of land in which the Dungeon Core resides, surrounded by a body of water. No bosses. Only the Core and Mobs,” Eleon explained.

  “The Core is very territorial and will attack any powerful being that approaches. That is the reason there are no Bosses around.”

  “Are there any differences between each specific dungeon?” Billy asked.

  “Each core is based on a different beast, and the mobs and surrounding terrain somehow reflect this. Bethella is a bear; that is why this dungeon is based on a forest, and its mobs on forest animals.”

  Eleon took him to another couple of progression dungeons controlled by the Unfocused during the morning. One was a craggy mountain with a giant nest atop it, where the Core, a monstrous vulture called Arko, resided.

  Another was a deep chasm with a terrifying spider at its bottom.

  All of them were surrounded by a circular river, an eternal ouroboros of water, forever chasing its own liquid tail.

  “The Unfocused currently hold eight of the nineteen dungeons. We have the upper hand only because the Committed and the Fluids hate each other more than they hate us. Each of those factions could crush us easily if its resources were not committed to defeating their counterparts,” Eleon explained.

  “Can you take me into one of their dungeons?” Billy asked.

  “Not without becoming a hostage or being slain in sight. I am the brother of Eleazar,” Eleon reminded him.

  “For Jenna’s plan to work, I need to be able to infiltrate each of the nineteen dungeons and do it without being seen,” Billy mused.

  He changed forms as soon as he was sure no one was watching them. He needed this training if he was to infiltrate other dungeons alone.

  The few times any Imperial interacted with him, he breezed through easily, sometimes through sheer bravado, and others using Whisper’s powers.

  -It’s Me: When the Doppelganger impersonates someone, people who know the victim overlook any faux pas that could reveal the Doppelganger's true identity. This effect is based on charisma.

  “Whisper’s powers are good enough for the Unfocused, mainly because your presence grants me credibility,” said Billy. “We are going to need something more convincing to infiltrate the others, especially the Fluids.”

  “What we need is the Unfocused's help,” Eleon sighed. “If we could turn Eleazar to our side, we might actually have a decent chance of setting in motion whatever harebrained scheme you three are up to.”

  “Do you see that happening?” Billy asked.

  “Never. Eleazar has sworn that he would kill your girlfriend the next time they meet. He has never broken his word. Not once, he…” Eleon suddenly gasped and sat down, his face pale. “Oh my god, I see it now!” he exclaimed.

  “What is the matter, Eleon?” Billy asked, concerned.

  “Billy, there is a chance we could turn Eleazar to our side, but only you and I can do it, and it has to be now. If we involve any of the other Losers, this will fail,” Eleon told him, his expression deadly serious.

  Billy knew that Eleon was bound by an oath that forbade him from lying or harming him, but even so, he felt skeptical. “And why is that?” he asked.

  “Because they will never agree to this plan, nor will they let you help me with it. It’s an absolutely moronic idea with no chance at all of working,” Eleon replied.

  That did it for Billy. “I am in,” he said. “Those are the only plans that seem to work for us. Okay, you may try your plan. You have my express permission to circumvent the oath, only for this matter.”

  “Thank you for this, Billy,” Eleon said.

  “Not so fast, Eleon. Remember, I am the Everlasting. You are not leaving my side. At the first hint of treachery, I will explode and take you and half the court with me,” Billy warned. “And I will come back from death. You won't.”

  “I would not have it any other way,” Eleon responded. “Billy, you are a shapeshifter. Can you take Jenna’s form?”

  “Only if she never finds out,” Billy replied cautiously.

  Eleazar sighed in his throne room. The war was going poorly, as is common in civil wars. Imperials were dying by the dozens, not at the hands of the Beli but at those of their own people. They had reached a stalemate, and he feared that the fighting would become even more sluggish.

  Boral had successfully captured a dungeon controlled by the Fluids, effectively isolating another one from nearby support. His entire strategy seemed focused on separating Andara’s dungeons from one another.

  Eleazar could guess the Fluid leader's next move: she would kill the Water Dragon, thereby destroying Belona’s travel system and adding days to the travel distance between each of its districts. This would turn a conflict that could be resolved in weeks into one that could drag on for years.

  But Andara was patient; she would not mind waiting if that meant destroying the strategic advantage Boral had poured so much effort into achieving.

  “The Hierophant of the Record of the Old Empires asks for an audience,” his chamberlain announced in his annoying, strident voice.

  Eleazar sighed. Even his own staff laughed at his brother.

  Of all of Eleon’s titles, being the leader of a faction of which he was the only member was the most ridiculous by far. And yet that was the one chosen by his chamberlain.

  “My brother, Eleon, son of Governance, High Hierophant of the Record of the Old Empire, and pride of his family, may approach. I am honored by his presence. And so are all of you,” he said in his quiet, yet commanding voice. His chamberlain’s yet human face paled.

  Eleazar would not have his brother mocked in public.

  “What can I do for you, Eleon?”

  “I have a question for you, Eleazar. Should I trust Necessity?”

  Eleazar doubted. What was he trying to do? Eleon knew he hated Necessity. He had accepted his help only because Governance had told him to.

  “Of course not. He betrayed our father. You know this as well as I do,” he answered curtly. “He is dead because of him.”

  “He has betrayed you, too, Eleazar. The seeds he gave us will turn into Tribulations in less than two months.”

  He heard Gala gasp at his side. She was the Voice of the Court, always able to discern when someone was lying. Eleazar buried his head between his hands. This was even worse than he feared.

  “And how do you know this?” asked Eleazar.

  “I have been conspiring with the enemy,” Eleon answered calmly. “She told me,” he added, signalling at his bodyguard, whose form shifted under his very eyes, turning into the woman he had sworn to kill. Jenna.

  “Are you out of your mind, Eleon?” roared the Emperor. “I have to kill her now. And I will kill you too, for this. You know I do not break my oaths.”

  “You will today,” Eleon answered calmly.

  “And why would I do that?” Eleazar asked as he approached the pair, radiating danger like a lion about to jump on its prey.

  “Because if you do so, you will betray yourself.”

  Eleazar suddenly stopped walking, understanding it all. He turned to the Scrollbearer.

  “The Scroll of Governance,” he shouted at his staff. “Bring it to me, now!”