Chương 226: Act 3, Chapter 75: Pretenders

Day in the story: 28th January (Wednesday), night Alex Weatherlight I felt much better now. Getting the tension out of my system helped tremendously with my focus, as did the fact that I had another of EoT's operations ready for the reaping. We'd painted eyes all around this part of the industrial zone, and Maya spent enough time around here to know that there were two mages inside, and both of them left an hour ago.

The building itself was a typical warehouse from the outside, surrounded by a big barbed fence and twelve guards on patrol. Nothing I hadn't already attacked multiple times by now. A few paper birds with an aerial view of the whole facility were high enough to give me a view, but they could not be seen themselves. It was enough to determine that my approach would be uncontested. I took ahold of the singing blades and threw them one by one onto the compound, but away from being immediately seen.

I remembered the times when I was throwing my cards one by one, an immovable object trying to learn how to apply my Authority with instinct alone. It wasn't a long time ago, and yet it seemed like a lifetime—and maybe it was, considering that I was someone else now—not entirely, but still. With the blades in place, my magic flew into them, changing them into speakers that started the music, and with it, the first one—the closest to the building—caught the air in a fiery inferno.

The second, further away, gathered black clouds above itself and started throwing thunder that latched onto the metallic fence and the ground, sending not only music but the shockwaves of nature's fury unleashed through the air. The last one was where I made my appearance, by teleporting to a bird above and jumping onto the point of blade's impact. It played that Afterimages tune by Daft Punk. I moved through it, and various visual clones of me were left in my wake. Enough to gain attention and spread it.

"Rhythm's here!" I shouted, with my voice strengthened by an amplifier, which this time I used for that purpose alone. The guards, however, instead of coming for me, all almost at the same time retreated toward the entrance farthest from me and abandoned the place entirely. [Strange. Seems like a trap.] Yes. I am leaving. I made my appearance, and it's enough for now. No need to check out what they are doing inside. I replied to Anansi as I ran toward the fence.

I had to make sure they saw me leave, to maintain the image of not being able to teleport. As soon as I reached the fence, I let another song play right out of my body through the painted amplifier that served as my Bluetooth speaker as well. With the identity of the melody changed to a wave of force, I threw an opening for myself as the ground caved in and the metal fragments were crunched and tossed aside. I expected more trouble going out, and yet I reached the outside with relative ease.

EoT did not even signal an alarm. With my blades back inside the Domain, there was nothing tying me or Alexa to this, and I was free to teleport out as soon as I reached some shadowed corner. Of course, that's exactly when things went strange.

"Robbie!" the man shouted.

"Man, stop. You ain't foolin' me. I know that's you, bro!" I noticed the movement—a black silhouette framed against the weak light of a half-forgotten lamp. Short dreads on his head, hoodie on, skater pants. My heart stopped for a moment, and so did my movements. I wanted it to be Malik. I knew deep down that it was him, but I also wasn't stupid and had years of distrust ingrained in me.

"Malik's dead. Keep your illusions or whatever you're doing to yourself," I shouted back and kept retreating slowly. I was curious about this, but not enough to expose myself.

"Nah, that's me, bro. Remember that cute, thick girl you had a crush on? Barbara? You ain't tell nobody—just me, right?" His voice sounded familiar, but it definitely wasn't Malik's, and even if the memory he brought up was real, I wasn't really his brother, so I had no way of confirming it was him.

"What do you want?"

"Talk to me, Rob… please." I saw him move his hands aside, and yet he remained only the outline of a man in the dark for now. I had to move further back, where I had one of my eyes painted on the wall to overlook this place.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

"I been tryna find EoT's spots for a minute now. Heard you was fightin' them too, so the first one I found was here. I stayed low till you pulled up," he replied, while I kept moving away. He matched my tempo, and we slowly kept approaching my lookout eye.

"If you are here for revenge, I am out, ghost. I have nothin' to tell you."

"I know you think it's too late, but I got lucky and made it back. I know you ain't really mean to take me out, man. I feel that in my heart," he kept saying as he came into the range of my vision. It was the same man I'd seen visiting those biker neo-Nazis when I'd been investigating Robbie's whereabouts. A Black man, similar to Malik in his facial features, but not quite. His jaw was sharper, more defined. He was taller too, and his dreads were cut short. This time, though, it was clear he had heterochromia.

One eye was brown, the other a vibrant green. If that was a shapeshifter, it either worked with limited data or wasn't very good at what it was doing. I needed to get closer, take a peek with my sp-eye-der, all of which had the eyes of Shattered on their abdomens, to be sure whether this was some veil meant to cover their true look or not. A fight could also help me determine whether he truly was who he claimed to be. I let Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger play from the tattoo on my back.

The moment it began, the man tensed, bracing himself. I didn't keep him waiting. I let the piece assert its identity, unfurling into a bubble of temporal distortion that made me exactly what the song promised. The air shimmered as my magic took hold, a thin film of Authority settling over my skin as I surged forward—hurtling toward the strange apparition. I cloaked myself in shadowlight as well, just to be sure, and experienced time splintering across multiple minds.

On one level, there was me—moving at a normal pace, running toward my target. With each step, I felt stronger, more solid, and though the distance closed in mere seconds, it all seemed almost ordinary. Only when my other minds processed the image through the painted eye did I realize what I'd become—a streak of motion and light, racing within a bubble of shimmering air, closing the distance in a fraction of the time it should have taken. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author.

Report any sightings. The advantage vanished the moment I reached him. He was inside the sphere as well now and it granted him the same benefits it gave me. My initial strike—a knee as I got close enough—was blocked by his elbow as he dropped low. Despite being pushed back a bit, he responded with a hook from the left side. I ducked under it, stopping the song at the same time and dispelling the enhancement I had given both of us.

The dome cracked and dissolved into a quick burst of shadowlight, and we were now exchanging blows at a normal pace. My illusion-piercing gaze suggested, however, that whoever I was fighting looked exactly the same as my normal eyes saw him. As my fist drove toward his midsection—just after slipping under his high kick—I let the shockwave music surge through me again, amplifying the strike with the force embedded in its rhythm and melody.

The impact sent my opponent stumbling backward, his footing finally giving way. I pressed the advantage immediately, moving in to continue the assault, when violet, gold, and blue shadowlight coalesced in front of me, forming his silhouette. I hit it head-on and rebounded. It was as solid as a concrete wall and it hurt like a motherfucker.

"Malik?" I asked aloud as I rolled backward and pushed myself onto my feet. He tumbled, stopped himself with an outstretched hand that clawed into the ground, then sprang back into a fighting stance.

"I ain't tell you it was me?" he shot back, wiping his mouth with his sleeve before spitting on the ground.

"But you though—you don't fight nothin' like my brother, even usin' his magic! Who the hell are you!?"

"You don't look like Malik either, despite using his magic. Seems we're on equal terms here. So you go the fuck first," I replied.

"It is me! It's complicated, though," he shouted, and I realized there was only one way to make sure he wasn't a pretender.

"I'll tell you something," I called out.

"Though if you want to keep talking, you'll keep the name to yourself!"

"What?"

"You and I were in Ideworld together—" I started.

"Nah, bro. We'd never," he cut in." We were. In a place overlooking a tower, in front of which someone painted a big dick just to mess with the people inside," I continued, and his eyes went wide. Fuck. This is Malik, Alexa thought, and a sudden contortion twisted along my left side. Not debilitating yet, but enough to make me feel it.

"I showed you a creature back then, after you shared your secret. What was it?"

"That I love you…? If you really who I think you is."

"I meant the creature, but that works too," I said, then motioned for him to come closer.

"I think EoT set up a trap inside this warehouse I just hit, so if you want to talk—" I wanted to say in peace, but the sound of something cutting in fast told me that it wasn't on the table. Whatever EoT had lined up finally caught up with us. Elle Erikson Laurent's place was nice, and it felt good to be included in the preparation meetings over the past few days. His team—especially Kito—had taken it upon themselves, despite his initial reservations or perhaps because of them, to make me feel welcome.

We exchanged numbers, and since we were staying at the same hotel, we travelled to Bastien's mansion together. Along the way, I learned about their skills and tactics while they went over logistics: food, water, and the temporary, portable shelters we'd bring along on this treasure hunt. We also discussed who Laurent believed might already be inside the maze. I took the same seat by the window each time I was here, a little further back.

The room was a classic study, lined with wood panels and old mahogany furniture—comfortable armchairs, shelves packed with books, and a large window now draped in long curtains. I pulled them aside just enough to look out over Paris at night. It had snowed all day, and the city was blanketed in a golden-white sheen, the streetlamps turning the snow into something almost soft and glowing.

"Do you want a tea?" Lia asked me. I still felt attracted to her, but ever since we realized that it was most likely the effect of introducing a male sexuality into the system, I treated it with less mystery and forbidden fruit taboo that made it all the more enticing to me. If it evolved into something else, I'd let it, but I wasn't going to push it that way myself.

"Yes, that'd be lovely," I answered, and she went on to boil the water in the kitchen down the hall. We'd entered just minutes earlier because Kito had the keys from Bastien, who was supposed to be here but apparently needed more time.

"I can't take these boring meetings anymore," Piotr said, swinging his baseball bat in the middle of the room.

"The only exciting thing so far was you joining us." He pointed the blunt end of the bat at me, arm straight, brows raised. His entire body was now cloaked in white shadowlight, streaked with red, crackling currents. Ever since he'd learned the technique from me, he'd practiced it at every opportunity"I don't know how you, of all of us, can already do it," Kito answered, peeling the skin off the apple and placing it on a little plate.

"You suggesting something?" Piotr answered him, taking another swing.

"That maybe we are not as simple-minded as you, and that's why it takes us longer." Kito took a first bite while putting the knife away. He took a look in my direction but said nothing else.

"Whatever helps you feel better." Piotr answered when Lia came back with three cups of tea, one for Patricia, one for herself, and the last one for me.

"I feel like I might be close," Patricia said, taking the tea from Lia's hands.

"It still feels like it's just around the corner."

"You will all get there," I said, stopping this conversation. Variants of it had happened a few times already, almost every time Piotr decided to put on the light show on a given day.

"Maybe they will," the man said, taking another swing, "or maybe they won't." He winked at me, while the sounds from downstairs suggested that the owner of the house was back.

"Would you like to face off tomorrow?" Lia whispered as she took a seat on the nearby sofa. We'd been meaning to test our minions against each other. It sounded like something I might enjoy, but her ability to control and enhance her insects would likely overwhelm my smaller numbers. There was also the question of intent—I couldn't tell whether she was genuinely trying to be friendly, merely pretending, or playing a deeper game of her own. With a tactical mind like hers, all possibilities were on the table.

Opening up could wait.

"Maybe?" I answered when Laurent barged in.

"Guys!" he shouted as soon as he pushed the door to hit the wall.

"I have fantastic news!"

"What is it?" Piotr asked, placing the butt of the bat on the floor and leaning against it with one hand while cleaning his ear with a finger of the other.

"I got another permission for us. One of the splinters got freed up, and we can go fight some Nazis!"

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Piotr shouted, throwing both fists into the air as his bat clattered to the ground.

"The Eiffel Tower?"

"Yes," Bastien replied with a smile, his gaze sweeping over all of us before lingering a moment longer on Lia and me.

"You've heard of it?" he added, turning back to Piotr.

"Peter studies every splinter in this city, every night," Patricia answered for him.

"You don't hear it from him, but he never shuts up about them with me."

"Why should I?" Piotr shot back.

"You're the seer—you're supposed to know this stuff."

"And I will. I'm already trying to memorize everything we know about the Catacombs, and now this? Why should we even go there?"

"It's a training splinter," Laurent explained, likely for my benefit.

"Curated, easily accessible. Bohema sends their younger mages in. It's a memory-type growth—the city recalling what could have been and replaying it. One team goes in, comes out, and then they send the next." He paused and took a breath.

"We've still got a week before I receive the map I requested, and we've covered just about everything we can before entering the Catacombs. I figured we could use a bit more action."

"Fuck, yes!" Piotr said.

"You mentioned it being under Bohema's watch," I said.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means," Kito began, "they'll try to keep us as safe as possible while still letting us progress on our own. We've trained in places like this before—in Great Britain. The Council of Oxford runs similar setups."

"We're going to show those pretenders who the best new team in the world is, right?" Piotr declared, playing the hype man the group both needed and barely acknowledged. He got a few smiles and scattered nods in return.

"You all suck."

"When do we go, Tien?" Lia asked.

"The splinter resets at midnight," Laurent said.

"We'll have it to ourselves for a week."

"How long do you need to prepare?" I asked.