‘We have come to Lord Mingchi’s estate under highly unusual circumstances,’ Jeni Laozi began, clear and level. ‘Ordinarily, we would be discussing your work as Pik’s newly coronated lord, your duties to the Eastern people. But that is not why we are here. You have chosen to speak publicly for the first time in many work-cycles, and about a very different matter. Why now?’

  Jeni Laozi’s voice was a professional monotone, her posture straight and head slightly tilted. The stillness of Mingchi’s chambers seemed to lean in with her, as though the entire room were listening alongside the rest of East Kowloon.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mingchi murmured, glancing between Jeni and the small filming crew behind her. ‘Do I need to lean closer to the mic, or…?’

  ‘No. The mic captures everything from where you’re sitting,’ she replied without missing a beat.

  They sat facing each other across a small round tea table, on deep, red-buttoned, velvet chairs. Two cups of steaming cha rested between them. The room itself was vast, its patterned red rug swallowing their voices, its lighting reduced to a warm amber glow cast from a few lamps on narrow console tables lining the walls.

  Around them hung towering square paintings. On one side, bright Dongist depictions of the mythical surface, radiant skies, glass towers and sunlit plains. On the opposite wall, sombre scenes of Kowloon’s bustling groundscrapers against an endless dark. The contrast framed the interview before it even began: aspiration opposite suffering, hope set against consequence.

  Mingchi paused, a visible struggle in his throat before speaking. ‘First… I’d like to thank you, Jeni, for having me. It’s a privilege to allow me to project my voice beyond our humble little district. I’ve followed your work for years. Kowloon doesn’t have enough journalists willing to speak plainly.’

  He drew a quiet breath.

  ‘As for why I am here now… There is no good time to talk about what has happened. Every cycle I waited felt wrong, and every time I tried to speak felt too late. So if there is never a perfect moment to address this, perhaps that means it is always the right moment. It was only a question of when I was ready to face Kowloon. I believe today I am.’

  ‘I am sure that I am not the only one relieved that you have finally come out of your estate. Lord Mingchi, while Pik starved, bled, burned and begged for honest leadership, you disappeared. No address, no statements to the press, not even a body-double your father was infamous for using. In a city fighting for its life, the only person who went missing was you, their lord. So tell Pik plainly: where did you go, and why should anyone trust you now that you have returned to the spotlight?’

  The faint hum of the vents filled the silence as Mingchi hesitated.

  ‘I will try to be as forward as I can. My people… if they still accept me as their leader, they deserve the truth. After the coronation disaster, I was drowning. I did what drowning men do: I flailed, grasping for air so I could breathe again. But let me be clear. I did not hide from Pik. I hid for it. I wanted to return only when I knew I could lead better… and not one moment sooner. That’s what Pik deserves, why I sit here today. Because the man you see now will not drag this district to its grave, as everyone is so convinced of.’

  Jeni’s eyes narrowed. ‘So, in essence, you abandoning Pik during the worst crisis in your generation, was actually an act of service to them? Do you think the people will see it the same way?’

  A brief, uneasy laugh escaped Mingchi before he answered.

  ‘That’s certainly one way to frame it,’ he said. ‘The people have every right to see it that way. I’m in no position to tell anyone how they should feel about me. I am not my father, after all.’ He shifted in his seat, an involuntary twitch at the corner of his eye.

  ‘I think that’s something people forget,’ he continued. ‘Pik lived under Lord Gaochi for over twenty-three annui-cycles. A man who made it punishable to even hold the wrong opinion of him. Growing up, I used to wonder how he never once failed to show up for his duties. Even after the bloodiest marches, even after threats to murder our entire family, he would still wake up an hour before the cycle and walk into his office as if nothing had happened.’

  Mingchi exhaled a soft laugh, though there was nothing humorous about it. ‘It is easy to mistake that for strength. For resolve. I imagine many people look back now and think, “Perhaps Gaochi wasn’t so bad. At least he was always present.” But present for what? To be a tyrant! To grind Pik into the state it is in today.’

  His voice steadied. ‘Since I screwed up so badly since the coronation, realising I’m probably no better than my father, why would I return on the second day pretending otherwise? Why repeat my father’s mistake of forcing himself on Pik every cycle after cycle, even when he was unfit to lead? I’d rather disappear, confront what I needed to confront, and return a better Lord… Than remain the same man and destroy Pik the way he did. Pik doesn’t need another Lord Gaochi. It doesn’t deserve another Lord Gaochi.’

  Jeni leaned forward. ‘Lord Mingchi, under your brief leadership Pik has already endured two district-shaking tragedies. At your coronation, thousands were crushed to death in what people have now dubbed “The Bloodiest Feast in the East.” And barely a week later, your Kuishi opened fire on unarmed protesters organised by the clergy. There are families in Kambaland today who genuinely cannot tell who has spilled more blood, you or your father.’

  The words hung for a moment before she pressed again.

  ‘So let us be direct. What do you say to those who have called your decision to hand out food during a famine as a ‘failed publicity stunt’? And what do you say to the grieving families who believe Pik is paying for your inexperience with their dead? They only want justice and accountability, Lord Mingchi.’

  ‘Think about it this way, Jeni. What kind of lord manufactures a vanity project guised as charity? Would that type of lord invite Kowloon’s sharpest journalist into his own home to face the consequences?’ He gestured with both hands. ‘Wouldn’t he blame the crowd, the Kuishi, or even our previous lord for leaving us in this state in the first place?’

  He drew a slow breath, voice steadying.

  ‘But I am here to tell Pik, here and now, that the blame is mine. All of it. I know exactly what I did. I tried to feed an entire district in a single night. I tried to show my people that their new lord would not sit in comfort while they starved.’

  His gaze dropped for a moment. ‘And yes, it ended in catastrophe. My lack of foresight cost innocent lives. For that chaos, for those deaths, for the pain I stamped into Pik… I apologise with every part of me.’

  Then he looked up again, eyes large and round. ‘But what I won’t do is apologise for believing the hungry should be fed immediately. I had food while my people did not. That imbalance was a sin I refused to carry into my coronation. So I acted. Badly. Recklessly. But I acted. And I would rather live with the consequences of trying to feed Pik than live with myself knowing I did nothing. Because doing nothing is exactly how Pik fell into famine in the first place.’

  ‘Many nobles and protesters across Pik are now calling for a full withdrawal from the Unification Pact,' Jeni started. 'It is a dangerous conversation, one that people avoided for nearly two decades after the District Rebellions and South Kowloon’s daring bid for secession. And yet here we are again. Recently, Ho Man Ting has sealed its borders, expelled every non-Southerner, and openly aligned itself with Yang leaders. Warlord Xinjian now declares the Yaozhi dynasty illegitimate. A growing chorus in Pik insists you should follow him. So answer this plainly for the East, Lord Mingchi: where does Pik stand? With Xinjian and the Yang, or with the dynasty you are sworn to serve?’

  Mingchi frowned. ‘I’ve been meaning to address that very question. Jeni, if you don’t mind, I want to speak directly to my people.’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  Mingchi shifted forward, eyes locked on the camera.

  ‘My people… I am sorry. For every son and daughter, every father and mother I have taken away from you. I carry those names with me. I always will.’

  He paused for a moment. ‘Many of you have looked to the Yang because you are starving for hope. I understand that. But hear me clearly: the Yang do not offer liberation. They offer a knife pressed gently to our backs. I know this because they have already tried to stick one in mine. They tried to win me as they have won Warlord Xinjian.’ He shook his head.

  ‘Do not mistake Xinjian’s alliance for courage. He is so desperate to escape the Yaozhis that he has handed his proud people to terrorists who care only for their own cause. Don’t forget how we have welcomed foreign “help” once before, long ago, and we spent nearly three hundred annui-cycles as second-class citizens in our own districts! We must not forget who the Yang are. These are the same militants who butchered thousands in District Yau in a single night, the same killers who march behind the mask of the Ibilis. If Xinjian trusts them now, it is because he sees no other path. But I refuse to deliver Pik into foreign hands ever again. We Easterners know exactly where that road leads. Independence is coming to Pik. But we need not parlay with murderers for that.’

  Mingchi glanced back at Jeni. She pursed her lips, her eyes widening for the first time in the interview, a rare crack in her composure.

  ‘Am I hearing this correctly? You are calling for independence? Are you saying Pik should sever itself from the dynasty?’

  ‘That is exactly what I am saying, Jeni.’ Mingchi’s voice strengthened, unshaken. ‘Emperor Puyin’s taxes have bled us dry. His precious Zhaisheng has been a parasite on Pik, draining what little strength we had left. Our loyalty has enriched only the dynasty, never the East. They expect us to bow while they starve us. I may be painted as a child, but the real child sits on the throne, believing we’ll just continue swallowing his crippling taxes as we watch it destroy us.’

  He leaned forward, eyes blazing defiantly. ‘Tell me, how is Puyin any different from the Yang? They both demand obedience. They’re both willing to crush us under their personal ambitions. I understand that many in Pik have been calling for my punishment after the coronation. I might even agree with them, but I await my punishment after I pass. For that is business between The Light, and myself. If the Creator decides my actions befit my deprivation of His Light after my death, so be it. I do not question the judgement of the Light. But know one thing,’ A thin, cold smile touched his mouth. ‘If I am met with darkness after death, I shudder thinking where Puyin will end up when his time comes.’

  Jeni’s voice recovered, steady and sharp. ‘Do you fear a regicide? Because if the Emperor takes this as rebellion, the next step in Kowlooni history has always been the same; a silent execution by the Kingmakers.’

  Mingchi’s answer came without hesitation. ‘It has been more than 28 annui-cycles since the last regicide. Emperor Puyin can come after me with his dysfunctional powers if he wishes, but Pik will not go down without a fight.’

  ‘After this interview, the Emperor will undoubtedly demand that Pik reaffirm its loyalty to the dynasty,’ Jeni said, leaning in. ‘So allow me to ask you directly, as our time is nearly over. Will you bow to Emperor Puyin, or is Pik preparing to rebel?’

  Mingchi straightened, the weight of the moment settling on him with visible resolve.

  ‘From this day forward, I am changed. And Pik will change with me.’ His voice carried a fire no one in Kambaland had heard from him before. ‘Tomorrow, Pik will formally resign from the Unification Pact. Our contracts with the dynasty will be torn in a public ceremony at first light. No more servitude disguised as loyalty.’

  He lifted his chin slightly, confidence sharpening his youthful features.

  ‘To mark this transformation, I will hold a speech at this ceremony,’ Mingchi said. ‘There, I will present a Yang infiltrator, one my Kuishi seized inside our own ranks. My people will see, with their own eyes, the deceit these charlatans bring. And I will deliver his sentence myself, publicly and without hesitation. After that, I’ll order my Kuishi to dismantle every one of Emperor Puyin’s energy-storage projects that have bled Pik dry for five annui-cycles. The Zhaisheng will be driven out of this district for good! When the rubble is cleared, we will build vast agricultural centres in their place, the first step in our crusade against the famine.’

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  He paused only long enough to let the words sink in.

  ‘That’s not all. For the first time, we will harness the algae-processing technologies the Unification Pact allowed West Kowloon to hoard while East Kowloon always starved. That gatekeeping ends tomorrow. There will be a district-wide tax freeze, and with strong central planning, we can reverse this famine in only a few annui-cycles.’

  Jeni exhaled softly, and for the first time in the interview, her eyes lingered on him with something almost like respect.

  ‘Your resolve is… Surprising, Lord Mingchi. And I’m sure many of our viewers feel the same, if they can look past your prior crimes.’

  She glanced at the timer beyond the camera.

  ‘Unfortunately, that is all the time we have. Perhaps next cycle, we will be discussing your accomplishments rather than your apologies, Lord Mingchi.’

  ‘One can only hope. Until then… Stay safe, Jeni.’

  Jeni turned to face the camera.

  ‘And that concludes our exclusive with Lord Mingchi of Pik.’

  Mingchi didn’t move. His eyes stayed fixed on the dark lens of the camera, as though he’d been speaking to someone beyond it.

  ‘Thank you for joining us this evening, ladies and gentlemen,’ Jeni concluded. ‘Goodnight.’

  The metal door slid open before Yutai, white light spilling into the dark room he had walked past for many annui-cycles but never once seen inside. Level 13 was where Kingmakers came to plan operations with their partners, a floor of near-identical debrief rooms. He’d been inside them a thousand times. But no one Yutai knew ever entered this room. No one even lingered near it. When he realised this was where Su and the others had chosen to meet, it finally clicked.

  This is the royal regicide planning room.

  A chill edged down his spine as he stepped inside. The space felt nothing like the other debrief rooms. Where those were bright and clinical, this one was lit only by three thin strips of deep purple LEDs along the ceiling. Their glow washed over the metal surfaces below, catching on the broad square tiles, the glossy black walls, and the round rim of the central holotable.

  Like all briefing rooms, the holotable sat in a circular pit at the centre, ringed by a raised walkway along the wall, which was lined with terminals, sealed lockers, and a pair of vending machines humming faintly in the dark. A few empty cans and chocolate wrappers were pushed to the corner of the holotable. The table itself was far wider than standard issue, a broad disc of flickering holograms that would soon become the blueprint for a royal killing.

  Around the holotable stood the three Kingmakers.

  Su Chen looked up at Yutai first. In the dim violet light, her silhouette was unmistakable: tall, broad-shouldered, her trench coat pulled tight across her frame. Her peaked cap hung from her belt, her hair up in a tight, slick back bun.

  ‘Yuet’s replacement?’ Su asked, pushing away from the holotable and approaching Yutai with an extended hand.

  He walked forward and shook it as the door slid shut behind him. ‘Praefect Shehui Yutai, reporting in.’

  ‘Tribune Chen Su,’ she said, then nodded back toward the others. ‘That is Wing, and that is Sze.’

  Sze Wang tipped his chin in greeting. A heavy rifle hung across his back, its barrel catching a glint. His large arms rested casually on the holotable’s edge, the muscles along his forearms taut beneath his rolled-up sleeves.

  Wing Sun barely glanced at Yutai. He kept his gaze fixed on the blue holograms, his posture still and composed. Slimmer than the others, with sharp features and a loosened collar, his large eyes reflected the patterns of the blue hologram. His cap, like theirs, hung from his waist.

  Yutai nodded to them both. He knew their reputations well: praefects from Captain Aiguo’s cohort, some of the most capable operatives the Tower had ever produced.

  Yutai took off his cap, fixed it on his belt, and joined them at the table, between Wing and Sze, facing Su. It was a room where only the most formidable Kingmakers had ever gathered.

  All in pursuit of killing powerful lords and ladies.

  Su tapped a sequence of buttons on the console at her hip. A new prompt shimmered into existence above the holotable. Yutai squinted at the text as it sharpened, and his jaw loosened.

  “Centurion Shehui Yutai: Final Performance Card.”

  ‘Is that… Mine?’

  ‘You are a last-minute replacement,’ Su replied without looking at him. ‘I didn’t have time to assess your strengths properly, so I requested your Kingmaker performance details from the captains.’

  Yutai shifted uncomfortably. His performance results were not shameful, but they were private. The only person he had ever shared them with was Shing.

  ‘Look… I didn’t do too well in my last semester of programming or back-end intrusion.’

  ‘That’s Wing’s expertise,’ Su said. ‘Your strengths are elsewhere. You outperformed your entire cohort in stealth, field IQ, micro-strategy, and situational awareness. If I had not been selected, these would have been the skills of a team leader, not a subordinate. You overlap with me so strongly that I almost wish we had received someone like Yuet instead.’

  Yutai pursed his lips. ‘Well, I’m here, and he isn’t. So you’ve gotta work with what you’ve got. That’s what a leader does, right?’

  Su inhaled slowly, her muttered words barely audible. ‘The mouth on this one.’

  She straightened. ‘Fine. I’ll run down our existing plans, and we’ll figure out where you fit in best.’

  With a sweep of her hand, the holograms dissolved. Then, a single projection rose from the table: an enormous groundscraper slowly spinning above the table, its carved roofs and tiered architecture immediately familiar.

  Mingchi’s estate.

  ‘As I mentioned earlier, Wing is our tech specialist,’ Su said. Yutai glanced to his right, seeing Wing’s eyes fixed on the rotating projection of the groundscraper. ‘He is pivotal to the operation.’

  Su tapped the hologram. A section of the lower tower glowed red.

  ‘This is the Kuishi headquarters. Level sixteen holds the main security rooms.’

  She double-tapped the projection, and the display zoomed down to a balcony jutting out from the concrete fa?ade.

  ‘Wing enters through here. Normally, four guards watch this balcony, but during the shift change there is a three-minute gap when only two remain. Before the next pair arrives, Wing slips through.’

  Another gesture and the hologram moved through the balcony doors, racing down a narrow corridor until two sliding doors filled the projection.

  ‘This is the security room. Five guards inside. Wing eliminates them and immediately takes over the tower’s surveillance grid. If everything works as intended, no one will be aware of Wing’s presence.’

  ‘I can’t imagine that hallway leading up to the security room will be empty,’ Yutai said.

  ‘Already checked,’ Su replied. ‘I swept it with voltugans. The hallway guards follow the same shift pattern as the balcony patrol. Wing has three minutes to get from the balcony to this room.’

  Yutai nodded slowly. That’s a tight window. Wing would’ve rehearsed this to perfection.

  ‘Sze will be our heavy,’ Su continued. ‘He is our contingency if anything collapses. He enters through the lower sewers and maintenance levels. Down there, he’ll plant sonic charges, gunfire emitters, false heat signatures. When we are close to Mingchi, Sze will make the entire tower believe a full Kingmaker brigade is fighting its way upward.’

  Yutai frowned. ‘How convincing would that even be?’

  ‘You ever deal with an SG Wrangler turret?’ Sze asked without looking up.

  ‘Not personally.’

  ‘They’re designed to mimic human gunfire from behind cover,’ Sze explained. ‘Organic gunfire patterns. I can even programme the rounds to sound like almost any rifle I want, so even reload patterns sound human. And if anyone tries to scope the turret, it throws back a flash of scope-glare so bright it looks like someone is aiming a PAW12 right at them. Just as a Kingmaker would. Place a few of these in the right corners, mix in sonic charges and false heat signatures, and it will sound like a company of gangsters holding down the entire floor.’

  Yutai blinked. I’ve never heard of tactics like these.

  ‘If everything goes to plan,’ Su resumed, ‘Sze will only reveal himself in the final ten minutes of the assignment. But if any of us slip up, if even one part of the stealth sequence fails, Sze will engage early. His job will be to drag every Kuishi fighter on those lower levels toward him, buy us the time we need.’

  ‘Why the last ten minutes?’ Yutai asked.

  ‘Because ten minutes before Mingchi dies is the moment we need him to realise Kingmakers are inside the estate,’ Su answered. ‘He will run from his study to the throne room.’ Su swiped her palm across the projection, and it outlined a path from the study to two massive double doors within the estate. ‘The late Lord Gaochi rebuilt this room to serve as a bunker. Specifically for royal regicides. It is exactly where Mingchi will try to hide… And exactly where we need him to be.’

  ‘If Gaochi built his throne room to withstand regicides, would that not make this harder for us?’ Yutai asked.

  Su shook her head. ‘Gaochi was not as clever as he thought. The moment he ordered construction on that room, we caught wind of it. It’s not uncommon that district Lords try this every now and then, so we must always be wary of such actions. The planner he hired didn’t hold up well under pressure, and we extracted the new schematics long before the renovations were complete.’

  She tapped the holotable and the model of Mingchi’s estate expanded, revealing the interior of the bunker room.

  ‘Every Lord and Lady in Kowloon has a royal regicide plan we prepare in advance. We Kingmakers study their living quarters from the very moment they rise to leadership. Update the plans every time our contacts inform us of a torn down wall. Hell, even a new toilet and we revise the regicide. Gaochi’s “bunker” was no different. He thought he could protect his lineage from us, but he unknowingly built an even easier death trap for us to spring.’

  Su zoomed back out to show the entire building, and then zoomed into one of the upper sections of the building. The hologram zoomed closer, showing a drone hatch tucked behind decorative panelling.

  The hologram slipped through the hatch and into a narrow ventilation duct, then along a tight crawlspace that ended at a circular grate. A small avatar of a Kingmaker crouched inside the cramped tunnel.

  ‘That’s meant to be you?’ Yutai asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Su replied. ‘I will not be entering the estate proper. All I need is access to the ventilation lines. Once I am inside, I will reach the throne room’s airflow system and flood the chamber with a thin, odourless, flammable gas. Slowly, quietly, it will fill the room. And that is where your part begins.’

  The hologram zoomed back out to the exterior of the estate.

  Su continued, ‘While scouting with voltugans these past few cycles, I found this crack. One point six metres tall and six and a half inches wide.’

  The projection shifted again. Su zoomed into one of the thick pipes that connected Mingchi’s groundscraper to the neighbouring buildings across a large gap. On the wall a above where the pipe connected with the estate, some material was draped over it. It glowed red. ‘I don’t know how it got there, but it’s made our job a whole lot easier. You’ll find it past this tarp,’ Su pointed at the glowing red material hanging off the wall in the projector.

  ‘You will need to remove your coat and pass your tools through first. But it is viable. We will run simulations to make sure you’re comfortable getting through later. What matters is that it leads directly into the estate cellar.’

  Su tapped a command. The hologram dove through the tarp-covered crack and into the cellar, racing up stairways, through closed doors and across corridors at dizzying speed, before stopping at a glowing red utility box.

  ‘This,’ Su said, ‘is your target. Overload it, and the power circuit linked to the throne room will destabilise. The lights inside will flare, overheat, and then burst.’

  ‘Which will be our spark to ignite the gas you’ve pumped in.’

  ‘Precisely. Every bit of air inside that room will ignite, even down into their lungs.’

  Yutai folded his arms. ‘Sounds clean enough, but the hologram just showed me I have to cross the length of bloody No Man’s Land to reach that box. It will be crawling with Kuishi, and I doubt I will get any convenient patrol rotations like Wing does on his level.’

  ‘Which is exactly why Sze will begin his one-man army advance at that moment. Assuming all’s gone well so far.’

  ‘Right, I remember. Ten minutes before Mingchi dies is when Sze engages and Mingchi migrates to the throne room. Is that how long I’ll have to get to the utility box?’

  ‘You’ll still need to sneak past Kuishi rushing toward Sze’s distraction. They cannot know you have already breached their back line. If Mingchi is moved from his throne room, the entire plan collapses. That is why Wing will constantly be opening and closing doors to divert the Kuishi away from you. Keeping you out of sight.’

  Su tapped the projection. The hologram shifted into a floor cross-section, multiple red nodes blinking along the corridor leading to the utility box.

  ‘These are the cameras in your path. Take the time now to memorise their positions. Wing cannot disable them all at once. Ping the one you want down, and he will drop it for a few seconds. He can also open or lock any door you need along the way.’

  Yutai exhaled slowly. ‘All right. Ten minutes to reach the utility box. Understood. Then how do we all escape?’

  ‘Not so fast,’ Su said. ‘Every regicide requires proof of success. The first thing the Emperor does after a kill is address Kowloon and present a token from the fallen lord. That is how the dynasty confirms a legitimate change in governance. In this case, since you will be the one closest to the throne room doors, you’ll be rushing up to Mingchi’s remains.’

  Su swept her hand across the hologram. The view left the utility box and raced through a series of corridors, climbing a narrow stairwell until it stopped before a pair of heavy double doors.

  ‘Sze cannot fully override these,’ she said. ‘He can only weaken the lock. Once the explosion settles, you will approach the door, use your sub-dermal implant to complete the override, get in and retrieve Mingchi’s right hand. Make sure it is the one with the silver ring as that is his father’s. Everyone will recognise Gaochi’s ring. If you can spare the time, take pictures of the body too, but that hand is a must.’

  Su swiped her hand across the projection. It returned to display the full building, slowly rotating in place.

  ‘After that, escape through the same cellar access you used to get inside. You may meet resistance on the way out, but by then the tower will still be in chaos and our work would have been complete. Once you clear the estate, make for the extraction point. We will regroup at the coordinates and take the rail back to the Tower at full speed.’

  Yutai took a step back from the table and simply watched the projection rotate, taking in the hologram of the massive 60 floor building, scaled down to forty centrimetres. The plan was brutal in its simplicity, terrifying in its precision. It was the kind of operation only the Kingmakers could design. Every action flowed into the next with mechanical inevitability, like cogs in an enormous machine, and he was the blade at the centre of it.

  The glowing schematics reflected in his eyes, bathing his face in violet light.

  This is a royal regicide, Yutai thought. The machinations that spun Kowlooni history. Changed cultures and influenced religions. I can’t believe we Kingmakers design these plans long before it’s even considered.

  ‘Three hours from now, you will report to Simulation Hall One,’ Su finally said. ‘We’ll run your route until you can do it half-conscious. You will rehearse every step you take inside that estate. When it’s time for execution, there will be no second guesses.’

  Yutai swallowed, steadying his breath.

  ‘Understood.’

  Su nodded once, sharply. ‘Good. Now all of you get some water. You’ll need it.’