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  The devil raised his staff as silver swords charged his way. Hadrian chuckled, incredulous, before bolting for the fast-travel circle.

  "Hadrian!" I barked. We galloped after him as I tried to halt the angel's justice with the dev menu.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> INITIALIZING

  Lucifer turned to me with a harrowed face. "The Whisperer!"

  I yelled into the menu. "Pause angels!"

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> STATUS

  >> LOCKED

  Bandit bounded past Hadrian, who rolled away to avoid being trampled. Hooves slipped on the smooth tile as she spun us around and barred him from the portal. I attended to the menu prompt.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> iddqd_

  My teeth clenched as the menu initialized.

  Decimus lunged forward, swinging one sword after the other. Lucifer sidestepped admirably but was clearly lacking some of his previous magical power. Decimus was notorious for his auto-hits and the devil was too slow to dodge both strikes. Instead of attempting to, he dodged one and raised his witchwood against the second blade.

  The silver sword sliced clean through the staff and bit into Lucifer.

  Critical Hit!

  Blockbreaker!

  [Decimus] dealt 60 damage to [Luc1f3r]

  Half of the staff clattered to the floor.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> STATUS

  >> UNLOCKED

  >> MENU ENABLED

  >> _

  The angel recovered. As Lucifer rolled away, two more sword swipes caught his back.

  Critical Hit!

  [Decimus] dealt 75 damage to [Luc1f3r]

  Critical Hit!

  [Decimus] dealt 75 damage to [Luc1f3r]

  The roll ended in a sloppy tumble. The angel floated before Lucifer, pushing to his hands.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> angels

  >> VERIFYING CREDENTIALS

  The angel crossed swords at Lucifer's neck. My wounded ally turned his head to me, fighting panic. Decimus acted swiftly. His arms thrust outward, taking the head clean off.

  Bravo Team slowed at the top of the portico steps. I stared in shock as the black-cloaked figure fell limp.

  Resident [Luc1f3r] has been deleted!

  Decimus turned to his next target. "Hadrian, you are in violation of—" The angel stumbled. His head lowered, blindfold falling loose to the floor. Still gripping silver swords, his white eyes blinked at the splintered section of witchwood buried in his heart. The angel's perfectly sculpted chest cracked. As he dropped to one knee, the entire Pantheon rumbled.

  Bandit snorted, but her footing was sure. Hadrian steadied himself with a hand on the tile. As Bravo Team entered, leaning on each other for support, the high portico entrance began to crumble.

  "Lash!" yelled Conan, axe pointing above.

  Glinda's jaw dropped. Bravo Team squeezed tight as Lash slammed her cleaver into the ground.

  [Lash] cast Bastion

  A shining dome of light encased Bravo Team as a chunk of the stone ceiling crashed onto them. The impressive barrier held true, but it couldn't possibly support the entire Pantheon.

  "Get out while you can, Talon!" yelled the white knight.

  I blinked, still stupefied, refusing to flee. The bongo stood over the fast-travel portal, guarding it against Hadrian. The capitol building trembled with increasing violence. Bandit shuffled beneath as my eyes fixed on Lucifer's black cloak. The body lay there, completely still, silver runes fading to nothing.

  Decimus sheathed his swords and clutched his chest. Light leaked freely from his body, a sure sign of his impending death. The angel glanced overhead, white orbs witnessing the world for the first time. With a bold cry, he leapt into the air. As the triangular tip of the portico fell away, Decimus met it and plugged it with his body. The whole structure collapsed to the peak of the steps, but he forced his might against it. A flash of white enveloped him—a contained explosion—and then somehow the room was still.

  Decimus had turned to stone, his body now a new support beam, barely holding the collapsed facade of the portico together.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> ERROR

  >> ANGELS OFFLINE

  I strained to believe what I was seeing.

  Amid the impossible barrage of distractions, Hadrian made a run for it. Deft boots slid under Bandit and into the fast-travel ring. Instead of chasing him, I went back to my now-initialized menu.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> fast travel_

  With a simple word, I flipped the portal's switch. It was locked. Hadrian tensed, and then slumped forward on the floor, resigned.

  "That damned developer menu," he spat. "Of all the contingencies I'd planned for, that one came as a surprise."

  I quietly dismounted.

  "A menu like that would come in handy, even for me, Talon. You still have time, of course, to join the winning team. What do you say?"

  I raised the dragonspear, readying to strike with the flat of the weapon.

  Hadrian's eyes flitted to it. "I thought not. But that artifact is hardly necessary." The Whisperer pulled a dagger from his inventory and slit his throat.

  Tad plodded forward. Haven's main server portal was destroyed, they had no communication with the outside world, and the elevators were shut off due to the fire.

  At least he'd recovered his crutch. It had tumbled a ways, but he found it. Limping along with it provided some measure of normalcy, a rote task he could distract himself with. He could almost pretend it was another day in the office if it wasn't for the incessant fire alarm.

  Tad paused by the outer windows overlooking the courtyard commissary many floors below. A crowd was gathering there. The studio, if not the building, was almost certainly empty now. If anybody hadn't left after Abbie's dismissal, they would've obeyed simple fire-safety protocol.

  Anybody except a wounded CEO workaholic.

  Then there were the potential visitors. How long would Fire Rescue take? Were other bad operators on the way? With any luck, the attention from authorities would dissuade whatever backup Abbie had contacted.

  Once again, Tad placed the crutch before him and hopped forward. Unlike everybody else, he wasn't headed for the exit. He couldn't climb down that many flights of stairs with a broken leg. There was nothing to do but return to Christian's office and see to Haven. It was Pete's final instruction.

  Tad entered the office, tired, face streaming with tears. How was he expected to be the game's caretaker by himself? He froze at the trails of blood running back and forth over the carpet.

  A relieved chuckle escaped his lips when he saw Christian still alive. Instead of diligently resting, the CEO had spent his time crawling back and forth, gathering computer components. He rested on the floor beside a new monitor hooked up to his workstation.

  The CEO's head jerked up at the programmer's entrance. "Ah, Tad. We've been rerouted to backup power."

  Tad blinked in bewilderment. Christian was so hyper-focused on his task that he'd completely scuttled any fear of Abbie and her gun, any worry for Pete and his team. Here was a man who thought like a machine.

  Tad wasn't built that way.

  "Jeez, Christian, you've been shot! We need to get you to a hospital!"

  A curt shake of his head. "Impossible until this is rectified. We need all hands on deck. Where's Pete? I need him in here."

  "He's dead! Abbie blew up the whole room, including herself! Everyone's dead!"

  The CEO blanched as the human cost made itself abundantly clear. Tad, ashamed of his outburst, quietly slid to the floor. He was tired and sore all over. A frantic giggle overtook him, which was somehow worse than crying. The hopelessness was finally catching up to him, and it was all a cruel joke. It would've been hilarious if it wasn't so tragic.

  His boss attempted to talk some sense into him. "I really don't... We can't... but damn." And then there was glum silence. It seemed appropriate, bu
t the longer it continued the more obvious it was that something needed to be said. The CEO stared into space. "I think he was my best friend."

  After digesting that remark for an idle minute, he lowered his head. His fingers rapped the keyboard. Still in danger of bleeding out, Christian Everett was dutifully attending his life's work.

  Tad wished he didn't take the label so literally.

  1730 Fallout

  Blood gushed rhythmically, feeding a growing circle of scarlet on white tiles. The daze that consumed me was stubborn. It clouded my thoughts, detached me from the world. I was watching a movie through my own eyes.

  Hadrian was dead. I examined his still body.

  Loot:

  840 silver

  Snakeskin Buckler

  Spider Boots

  The silver alone was a small windfall, but compared to the lost soulstone the prize was hollow. My eyes flicked to the black cloak on the floor.

  "Get out of here!" screamed Lash.

  The voice seemed distant. Although Decimus had prevented the full destruction of the Pantheon, the capitol building was in a miserable state, still mid collapse. Several blocks of granite had landed on Lash's dome shield. Two particular megaliths were suspended right above the party, ready to crush them as soon as the bastion expired. Bravo Team was in trouble.

  My reaction was more instinct than calculation. The fate of my friends trumped all other concerns as I swapped out my spear for Hadrian's buckler. The enchanted snakeskin provided good strength for its size, but the item wasn't otherwise special and wasn't a full shield. It was the best I could do in the time I had.

  Which was another second or two.

  I set my feet and charged Bravo Team, triggering dash to speed my way. The bastion ability flickered and the shield disappeared. I rocketed through the air, pushing extra spirit into overloading spinshield, and braced against the buckler to collide with the granite blocks like a wrecking ball. The impact deflected me to the floor with an "oof." The room trembled.

  I raised my head to find Bravo Team huddled together, eyes wide. It had hurt and I'd sustained trivial damage, but the gargantuan blocks had been safely displaced a few yards to the side. With a sigh of relief, Lash leaned against the stone that had almost crushed her.

  The excitement gave my system a boost. I still felt numb, but I was less detached. I turned my attention to Lucifer.

  He was definitely slain, his head some distance from his body. I approached with trepidation, worried at my inability to examine his remains. I tried a menu lookup.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> Luc1f3r

  >> ERROR

  >> INVALID ASSET ID

  My jaw hung idle. Lucifer wasn't just dead, he was deleted. Completely gone. I wavered on my feet.

  "Thanks for the save," said Lash as she stomped over. "I told you my new level-10 ability would come in handy. I—" She paused as the devil's body dissolved into embers of light and drifted away. "That looks bad. That's bad, right?"

  My eyes lingered on the barren spot of shiny tile. Now this war had truly cost Lucifer everything.

  "Whoa," chimed Conan. "High def."

  I blinked. The detail on the tiles crispened. The world had finally fully streamed in. I surveyed the room. Haven was back to normal.

  To emphasize the point, a number of centurions blinked into existence. Outside, the city watch appeared. In moments we were surrounded by olive tunics and red capes. The commander in gold armor was the first to snap to it.

  "Form up!" ordered Gladius. "Protect the Pantheon!"

  I squeezed my temples. "Don't bother. It's too late." I paced between Gladius and the precarious entryway that was all that remained of the Pantheon's once-grand portico. "The angels are dead. Hadrian escaped with the Eye."

  The commander flashed concern as he took in the building's massive structural damage. I stepped under the partially caved-in roof and into the sea of city watchmen on the outdoor steps.

  The entire Forum was listless, blanketed in eerie silence like the eye of a hurricane. Even the NPCs wandered and muttered in hushed tones, as if merely speaking was a risky proposition. Everybody was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I was right there with them.

  There was, however, one bright spot in the marketplace. Kyle was bobbing and weaving through the crowd at top speed to get to the Pantheon. He smiled at me as he hit the steps. My face only darkened. There was nothing good about this. I turned and reentered the scene of Hadrian's escape.

  Gladius idled in shock. "I... I can't believe this."

  "Don't worry," I rasped, "Hadrian's gonna pay for this."

  "Damn straight," said Lash. "Hadrian was my charge. I let him escape."

  "Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have stopped it."

  "I don't give a shit about blame, Talon. I just wanna fix this. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to hop on a boat and sail to Shorehome to wring Hadrian's little neck."

  I paused and considered her insinuation. Hadrian was a Shorehome resident. He would respawn there. The Brothers in Black were arguably his faction now after he'd usurped and assassinated Papa Brugo.

  Except Brugo had respawned too, three days ago. He'd been in Shorehome three days while the Whisperer was imprisoned. Who was to say he hadn't wrested the city back? Which meant Hadrian's rebuild might be embattled.

  In a flash of inspiration, I checked Hadrian's resident ID in the developer menu. The position that came back was unexpected.

  "The Whisperer's not in Shorehome," I announced.

  By now Kyle had entered the portico. Bravo Team and Gladius huddled around me, waiting. For direction. To make sense of what happened. And, as Lash said, to fix it.

  I showed them a stoic face. "He respawned in Oakengard."

  Everybody blinked and pondered the ramifications.

  "It's a smart move considering the rumors of upheaval in the pirate city," I explained. "And the connections he has in Oakengard. Loras was part of the InLink conspiracy before getting fired. After that Hadrian co-opted his avatar. Meanwhile the crusaders have been beefed up."

  "It's an NPC city," said Lash. "That's his environment. No players to go against him."

  Kyle hissed. "So we defeat him in an epic battle and dude just ups and moves on to his backup plan. Instead of a village of wooden shanties, now he's hiding behind towering stone walls with a trained army."

  "Oakengard isn't a backup," I said. "Hadrian targeted all three cities from the start. The horde besieged Stronghold, Loras maneuvered in Oakengard, and Hadrian grew his roots in Shorehome, biding his time in plain sight in the least important city. This was the game plan Lucifer had plotted against. And because of the Black Hats, Stronghold has remained free."

  "Twice now," added Lash with a puff of her chest.

  "That's fine and good," the brewmaster returned, "but how long can we hold out with the other two cities against us?"

  The commander of the city watch bit down. "We no longer have the protection of the soulstone."

  I agreed with a curt nod. The only good thing about Hadrian's dodge was that, unlike Shorehome, Oakengard still had a working hub. That network enabled the dev menu to see him. For now I could locate him with pinpoint accuracy.

  The bitter irony was that now, after Hadrian had openly worked against the simulation, there were no more angels to go after him. Lucifer's final act had not only failed to save himself—it had tragically protected Hadrian from further pursuit. And Otho was a broken being, missing in the margins of the game. It had taken days for Lucifer to rein him in. Now, without a master, I feared the angel of death was nothing more than a whisper.

  No, this was up to us. And by the looks on everyone's faces, they knew it too.

  I cocked my head at the ring of maroon tiles the Whisperer had attempted to escape through. I checked the dev menu and took in a sharp intake of air.

  "I can't believe it. Hadrian made a mistake. Before he killed himself, he attempted to use the fast travel, no doubt to telepo
rt to Oakengard."

  Everyone's face lit up. Crux leaned forward.

  "How could he control that?" asked Gladius.

  "I don't know. It must be the remnants of the Trojan. His hooks are in the system. But the why doesn't matter. He managed to open Stronghold's portal, and I locked him out before he could use it."

  Lash shrugged. "So how's that a mistake?"

  I grinned. "Because he also unlocked the portal on Oakengard's side. And since his respawn, he forgot to lock it up again."

  Her face turned to stone. "You're saying we can teleport so far up his ass he'll be constipated for weeks."

  "I'm not saying that. That's gross."

  "She has a thing with bodily functions," muttered Glinda.

  Conan shrugged. "Works for me."

  "It's the wrong move," I insisted. "We can't just storm in there plugging buttholes."

  The white knight lifted her chin. "Why not?"

  "Lash, even if the entire faction goes, seventy Black Hats isn't much of a threat to Oakengard. If we go in there pounding, we'll get pounded."

  "Let 'em try."

  "No," said Crux, "Talon's right. More than anything else, we want Hex back, right?"

  The Bravo leader swallowed her bravado and nodded.

  "And even after we find her," he continued, "I'm guessing we'll want to steal back the Eye of Orik. Who here can pick pockets?" The pure thief challenged everyone with his eyes, even me. The boy firmly nodded. "That's why this needs to be a stealth mission. I need to go alone." I opened my mouth to object but he cut me off. "You promised we'd get her back."

  I chewed my lip. Crux was just a kid. Gifted at gaming his skills, but far from the most powerful among us. In a lot of ways, though, I had to admit he was perfect for the job. He was a famed dungeon crawler and expert at hiding in shadows. Not only was his thievery top-notch, but he was a pacifist. He wouldn't be picking unnecessary fights in Oakengard. And his motivation couldn't be questioned: his twin sister Hex had been left behind during our last visit to the city.