Elder Luwei was allowed to leave once he'd confirmed that Huashan would forgo any privileges over the Li siblings unless they wished to return to the fold of their own volition. A verbal agreement was reached, observed by a Secretariat, two Magisters, a Magus, and Professor James Ma: should the Huashan Sect renege on Luwei's contract, the Clan's occupancy in Shanghai would become precarious indeed.

With the matter resolved, Gwen ran to her babulya, embraced her, then reciprocated the affection for her uncle.

"Thanks, Uncle Jun." Her eyes sparkled.

"You take care now." Jun patted her head. "Be more careful next time."

Gwen could see that the Li siblings could scarcely believe an agreement had been reached without further violence. They had anticipated that at the very least, they would lose something precious, like their specialised Magic. Dazed by their circumstances, Kusu mumbled an apology to his grandmother, looking devastated, while Lulan held her brother's hand with moist eyes gleaming with hope. Mayuree and Kitty were still recovering from the escalation of Gwen's precipitous encounter, while Richard had on an expression of barely disguised exaltation.

"It's not over yet." Jun pulled Gwen away from his arm, giving her a rap on the forehead.

As the infamous Ash Bringer turned to Choi, the Secretariat grew rigid like a Wildland buck caught in the path of a Disintegrate.

"Secretariat Choi." Jun inclined his head ever so slightly.

"Captain Song," the Secretariat replied respectfully.

"I wish to know more about your dealings with Nephres Zalaam."

"Am I supposed to know who that is?"

A lingering moment passed between the two as Choi held his face unmoving and intact.

"Shall we speak in private?" Jun offered. "I will only extend this kindness once."

"I—" Choi's eyes darted to the ashen footprints still lingering on the vermillion carpet. "I don't think that would be necessary."

Jun folded his arms and studied the Secretariat, whose face was like a jade sculpture.

"Staff Sergeant Bui!" Jun called out to one of the guards.

"Sir!"

"Tell Secretariat Choi who you work for."

"MSS Grey Ghost, Designation SG442123! Sir!"

Choi's expression remained masterfully unmoving.

"I am relieving you of your post, Bui. Good work, Lieutenant."

"Sir!"

"I am not under the jurisdiction of the MSS or the Internal Security Review Committee," Choi protested. "You think a double-dealing dog can cow me?"

Her uncle cracked his neck.

"Maybe I can. Maybe I can't. Are you a gambling man, Choi?"

Choi's eyes darted behind Jun and the others.

"I'll say this one more time, Choi. Would you like to discuss this privately? Or do you believe the MSS are toothless dogs?" Jun offered nonchalantly, his pupils taking on a hint of dusky ash. "You think I am just here for my niece? Do you think I have my men combing the depth because of a family matter? Remember, when a hound is going for your jugular, it doesn't bark first."

With every word from Jun, Choi looked as though he was perspiring all the liquid in his body.

_So this is what Jun is like doing his job_ , Gwen marvelled. Her uncle was amazing. He was her idol.

"My office, please." Choi pointed to the door. As it turned out, the Secretariat, though a gambling man, wasn't a fool.

"Gladly." Jun turned to the others. "Don't wait. The matter is going to take a while. Mother, it's getting late. Please don't tire yourself out."

"Alright, dear. Don't work too late." Klavdiya chided her son warmly.

"Gwen, I'll speak to you later." Her uncle patted her head.

"Yes, Uncle Jun."

Jun stopped at the door.

"5 CCs per Crawler, and 20 for the Healer, right?"

Gwen's face broke into a wide grin.

"Yessir!"

With Jun gone, the elderly Mages now desired to return to the comfort of their usual abodes. Klavdiya told the students that a car would be waiting for them to take them back to the city. Birch offered to escort Gwen's grandmother, but she sweetly declined and thanked him for the gentlemanly offer.

"Why a car? Couldn't you just teleport the two of us back?" Klavdiya enquired of her old acquaintance.

"I wouldn't want to abuse my privilege," Birch dodged the question expertly. "Please, it's the least I could do."

Gwen watched their interaction with amusement and a little trepidation.

Who would win in a duel between Birch and Guo? She disturbed herself with the hypothetical but knew her grandmother would not allow such a thing to come to pass. Klavdiya had given three children to Guo—a little flattery from Birch wasn't about to test her resolve.

"I'd love to speak to you a little more, Gwen," her babulya said. "Maybe next time, you can show me some more of those dainty little restaurants you have found on University Boulevard."

"Of course, Babulya!" Gwen farewelled her grandmother, squeezing the diminutive woman's hand tightly.

As they parted, Klavdiya touched Gwen's cheeks strangely, her concern lingering on Gwen's face far longer than was necessary, even for a doting old grandmother.

"Is something wrong?" Gwen touched a finger to her cheek. Blood, perhaps, from the slaughter below?

"My dear, if what I think happened did indeed occur, you should contact Magister Wen immediately. We need data, biometrics, and understanding—not doubt, self-loathing and blame. Yours is a difficult milestone on the Path of Conflict, Gwen. One on which you cannot afford to wax sentimental. Many eyes are watching, my sweet child. Stay strong and show no weakness."

"I will, Babulya," Gwen promised, thinking of how Petra and her Master would react. They were probably thrilled to hear her progress.

"Let me hitch a ride!" Professor Ma, not reading the situation, suddenly butted in. "The two of you have a car separate from the kids, right? Let them mingle. I don't want to be an eyesore."

The look from Magister Birch's face said it all.

"I'll Teleport you," Birch offered.

"Wha? No! What a waste of crystals!"

"It's settled. The cost is on me," Birch insisted.

"But you just said..."

Ma's protest was unheeded as the trio left, with Klavdiya waving to Gwen.

The student Mages were finally left alone, awkwardly watched by a dozen guards.

"Do we go now?" Mayuree asked no one in particular.

Gwen looked out the window, then checked her watch, realising that it was now very late. They had arrived in the afternoon after 1400. She estimates that they had entered B-7 around 1600. Now, it was nearing midnight.

Conditioned by reflex and habit, she knew she should be famished by now.

But she felt no hunger, not even a hint.

Gwen swallowed her rising bile.

She shifted her attention to her companions, counting herself; there were six of them: Mayuree, Kitty, Lulan, Richard, Kusu and herself.

"Let's see what car they prepared," Gwen advised the party amusedly. "One of us might have to fit in the boot."

Leaderless and directionless, the guards allowed the student Mages to pass. The levitation platform took the juniors down to the ground floor, where dilapidation and garbage kept company with the darkness. Intermittently, feeble Light spells lit up the corridors, leading outward onto a courtyard murky with mist. The only source of visibility came from a hazy Daylight spell hanging over a PLA-badged people mover.

The driver popped the side cabin as the students appeared from the door.

"I'll take the passenger side," Richard informed them. "You sit with the others."

"I could ride the bike back," Lulan offered, noting the tight squeeze and Kitty's displeasure at squeezing into the cabin cheek-to-cheek. "I got my White Ghost in the Ring."

"Naw." Gwen patted her shoulder. "Hop in. It's nice and cosy, right?"

The group piled in.

"Back to Fudan?" the driver asked.

"Back to Fudan," Richard informed him.

Without incident, the van moved out.

The barrier went up.

The barrier went down.

Their excursion came to an end.

As they pulled away, Gwen couldn't help but be drawn to the dark silhouette of D-109 in the distance, growing more vague and faint with every kilometre.

A dark city and an apt metaphor, Gwen reflected upon the fading vision. The poor sods. I hope Uncle Jun's investigation will make their lives just a little bit better.

_Was the trip a success or a failure?_ She wondered. She had gained something in there, but she'd lost something too.

The van soon traversed the fourth orbital highway, the dark recess of the world around them blossoming into illumination. Light-posts, sedans and lorries, the light of civilisation and the suburbia and beyond that, appeared one after another, filling the visual field, polluted the misty atmosphere with a dazzling display of vivid colours.

In the uncertain distance, the splendour of Shanghai's megacity glowed like a mirage, setting the heavy vapours of the mid-night fog aflame.

In the cabin, the Li siblings were now discussing their immediate futures.

"We would have to leave the apartment, of course. The Clan owns it." Kusu said.

"It's father's private property, though," Lulan retorted. "Before that, it was mothers."

"Well, it isn't ours. Do you think our father would stand up to the Elder or the Clan Head? He's an accountant," Kusu said with finality, then sighed. "So, you're feeling fine now? No more… mist?"

"Not for now." Lulan stretched out her arms, then immediately grew scarlet when she caught Gwen looking contemplatively toward her.

Kusu watched the girls, aware that their saviour was a beautiful woman but also alarmed by his sister's sudden outburst of femininity.

That Lulu was a _girl_ was a self-evident fact, but one he had given credit. No one saw Lulan as female within the Clan, much less a woman, because she could beat the boys black and blue without batting an eye.

To distract himself, he shifted his attention to the Void Sorceress, whose frenetic energy and glib tongue were why they now had the freedom to live within the crack between a rock and a hard place. Kusu felt happy for the fact, though the exhilaration paralleled the trepidation.

The life of a Sect member was regimented and orderly. Training to learn skills. Training by carrying out missions. Training by sparring and participating in the internal disputes of the Clan. The rest of the time, they ate, slept, and occasionally got a glimpse of the world outside of the Sect's sacred grounds. Select individuals, such as Kusu, Lulan, Pei and others, were sent away to 'mingle' with outsiders to broaden their horizons. Occasionally, these individuals never came back. Primarily, this was because they died, performing some service to benefit or defend the Sect. Once or twice per generation, the colourful world outside proved too much for young Clanners to return to the monotony of monastic training. These _rogues_ who no longer wished to dedicate themselves to the single-minded cause of the Sect were then cleansed.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Their uncle, Luwei, had been thoroughly beaten. What now followed would be at the digression of those involved. If the Magisters kept the encounter to themselves, the Sect would try to put it behind them. If they boasted and mocked Huashan as a result and made them into a public spectacle, then Lulan and Kusu should expect an Iron Blade in the back very soon.

For this reason, Kusu was under no delusion that he and Lulan would have to be very discreet if they wished to make it to graduation. Lulan was already a second-year, while he was still in his first.

Then, what about the Clan's secret techniques? Kusu and Lulan knew nothing about the Heart of Iron other than that they had a catalyst embedded and the incantations necessary to use it. What if someone at Fudan had designs on their talent?

Kusu hoped it wouldn't come to that.

If Huashan still made a move on the siblings, the Magisters would speak out.

If the Magisters spoke out, Huashan would have to silence the siblings.

And the siblings were to perish, then both the Magisters involved and Huashan would lose face, not to mention the Ash Bringer himself would have words for the offenders.

Therefore, the best possible outcome for all parties was to keep quiet and keep walking. As for the siblings, all they could do was walk the tightrope and hope there were no sudden gusts.

"Kusu," Gwen spoked first. "What's your plan from here on out?"

"Get registered at the Fudan Tower, I suppose." Kusu hadn't stopped thinking since they left D-109. "That way, we gain some protection and enough employment to keep us in Fudan."

"I'll be joining the Pudong Tower in the future," Gwen stated purposefully, looking over at Lulan. "For now, I am registered with Fudan's provisional Tower Two."

"We'll be going there first thing in the morning then." Kusu smiled, scarcely believing that Gwen and themselves were at each other's throats days ago. He bowed his head. "Thank you for saving my sister."

"I couldn't have done it alone." Gwen shook her head modestly. "It was Professor Ma and all the others. You're giving me too much credit."

"But they were there for you," Kusu pointed out.

"Hardly." Gwen grinned, forcing Kusu's heart to up its cadence. "Magister Birch is present for reasons. My Uncle was there for Choi. Professor Ma is there because that was his job. I suppose only Babulya was there for me. So, as I said, you're giving me too much credit."

"I owe you my life, twice now," Lulan interjected between Gwen and her brother's mutual contest of humility. "You can't deny that."

"I won't." Gwen beamed at her.

"Whatever you need in the future, just let me know," Lulan stated as a matter of factly. "I'll do whatever is in my capacity to satisfy."

"Good, but take care of yourself first," Gwen advised sagely. "You're not helping me if the both of you end up homeless and drop out. Do you have money?"

"I've got… funds saved up, from my previous Tower missions, the Sect took its share, but I've got enough," Lulan replied. "I can sell my bike as well. Kusu and I can take on some small-scale missions in the Orange Zones."

"Do you have a place to stay?" Gwen asked.

"No, but we'll somehow manage," his sister stated hastily, not wanting to intrude on Gwen's generosity.

"Don't tell me you're going to huddle up in a park," their saviour grimaced. "Have you never rented before? Or visited a real estate agent? Do you have your documents on you? ID Cards? You might need at least 200 points of identification to pass muster. How about a bank card?"

The siblings looked at one another, seeing a side of Gwen they did not expect.

"We'll be fine," Lulan muttered softly, smiling in a manner that made Kusu's heart melt. "I've had some experience dealing with this before. Thanks, Gwen."

"What about tonight?" Gwen stated. "Or tomorrow, or the day after that. It's not cheap finding something around Fudan, you know. You guys should probably not stray too far from campus."

"We can find a hotel or something," Lulan said.

Kusu coughed. In truth, everything they owned was already on their body.

"Look, I can lend you this for a while until you find a place." Gwen produced something that Kusu recognised as a Portable Habitat. "It doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the Melbourne Tower. I was going to return it soon, but there's no rush. It utilises 1 HDM per application, which lasts around 12 hours generally."

Kusu's brows formed the Chinese figure for 'eight'.

"A military Portable Habitat!" his lips parted in surprise. "I've only ever seen our seniors carry such a class of Magical Device, and they had to commandeer it from the requisition Elder."

"Gwen, this is too much." Lulan shifted her petite body uncomfortably, adjusting her weight. "We owe you so much already!"

"As I said, it doesn't belong to me. I am lending it to you until I need it back," Lulan's saviour insisted.

"But..."

"Just take it and set it up under our building for now," Mayuree interjected. "Trust me, Gwen's right. You don't want to be sleeping somewhere random if your Sect's people might come knocking. You'll be perfectly safe if you stay near campus until the whole thing can blow over."

"We'll get it back to you as soon as we can." Kusu prodded his sister, hinting at her to let the matter drop. "Maybe tomorrow, at worst a few days from now. Thank you, and everyone else here as well."

"Sure." Gwen passed it over. "Lulu, is your ring large enough?"

Lulan nodded. Lulu? When had the girls grown close enough to use pet names casually?

"Lulu—" Kusu chuckled. "Uncle San, our Master, used to call her that."

"Sorry," Gwen apologised. "I didn't know."

"No, it's fine." Lulan waved away Gwen's apology. "Lulu is fine."

"Master was trying to find a way to help Lulu," Kusu decided to reveal a spot of their past. "But a year ago, the Sect sent him away to participate in state-sanctioned military service. Every year, the Sects send a few outer circle members led by a senior member of the inner circle up north. Because Master volunteered, we didn't have to go."

"We received news that he died in April," Lulan explained, her eyes soft and misty. "Six months after the fact."

"Sounds like you guys have your circumstances to contend with," their saviour sighed wistfully for the siblings' maltreatment. "It must have been hard."

"Your Clan sounds like a real piece of work..." Richard had been listening in from the front seat. "How many of those they send out come back?"

"About half, maybe less," Kusu confessed dejectedly. Hindsight was Clairvoyance.

"Sounds like a factional rivalry to me," Richard observed. "Back in Prince's, it wasn't strange if people who pissed off the higher-ups got sent on dangerous missions to do some good before they're discarded."

"Uncle San wanted Kusu to participate in the contest for the next Head," Lulan explained. "Of course, I was going to help Kusu."

"Now that I think about it, it probably has something to do with Pei." Kusu raised a finger conspiratorially. "That's the Grandmaster's younger son. He's the closest disciple with the talent to beat Lulu. There's talk that he's being set up for the position of the inheriting disciple. I guess it all makes sense now. Poor Uncle San."

The van grew silent.

"Oh—" Lulan suddenly looked up. "Gwen, do you have a brother called Percy?!"

"I do." Gwen thought of Percy and felt a stab of sadness. "Why?"

"He was the one boasting to Pei about you. I think your brother and Pei are both students at Xiangming Metropolitan Selective High School, right?"

"I think so," Gwen replied.

"Pei told us to challenge you because your brother had told him that you've been excommunicated. He even showed Pei some kind of Amulet?" Lulan recounted. "Pei said that if we defeat you, we can take over all the fame you've been gaining. Pei said that this was an opportunity that appears once in a lifetime—a famous prodigy, ripe for the plucking."

"Really?" Gwen's voice lowered an octave.

"Lulu's just stating what she knows," Kusu quickly came between the girls. "Don't worry about it. I am sure Percy didn't mean it."

The three student Mages exchanged tired looks.

Together, all three sighed.

"I am sorry, Gwen." A voice came from the back. It was Mayuree. "I know how much you love your brother. He's still young, just a child. Maybe it was a careless slip of the tongue?"

"Pretty bloody specific for a casual slip, the little shit. Percy's got a habit of being a bit of a fucker, ain't he?" Richard retorted from the front. "That Amulet would have come in bloody handy about now, eh?"

A moment passed before their saviour could respond.

"It's alright."

Her voice seemed far away and distant.

"He's just a boy."

The atmosphere in the car took on a new weight.

This time, Kusu knew the conversation had indeed died.

The van pulled up at the Fudan apartments, dropping off the student Mages at the circular parking bay of B1.

Richard yawned and informed them that it was now the witching hour. Looking up, they could see that the Penthouse suite and Gwen's apartment lights were still lit.

"You can set up in the sky garden if you want," Mayuree told the Li siblings. "I'll speak to management and let them know."

"Thank you." Lulan inclined her head while Kusu bowed.

"Let's head up," Gwen informed the party. "Let's have breakfast together. I know a few good places around campus and on the Boulevard."

"How about my place instead?" Mayuree offered. "I'll get Lei to prepare for company."

"No." Kitty sneered.

Mayuree silenced her friend by putting a finger against her lips.

"That would be wonderful," Gwen answered for the rest of them.

The lift ascended.

Gwen waved the siblings goodbye at the mid-section. A sizeable balcony made a sky garden for the public to enjoy the privileged view offered by B1. Since the Portable Habitat could not be set up indoors, the private garden made a perfect temporary location.

"See you tomorrow. Please rest well, Miss Song." Kusu bowed, making his sister bow as well. "Allow me to thank you again for your aid tonight."

The remaining foursome rode the rest of the distance in uncomfortable silence until reaching Gwen's level.

"Thanks for all the help, Mayuree. You were excellent." Gwen reached over and hugged her friend.

"You were the one who was instrumental, Gwen." Mayuree blushed as she returned the affectionate embrace.

"Kitty, thanks for holding out for me. I won't disappoint you next time." Gwen extended a hand.

Kitty rigidly reached out with her dainty white fingers and took Gwen by the palm.

"I hope I don't come to regret tonight," she replied cryptically. "I'll be watching you closely, for Mayuree's sake."

Gwen nodded solemnly.

The lift door opened.

Richard exited, followed by Gwen waving a short goodbye.

"Dick, G'night."

"G'night, Gwen." Richard caught her shoulders before she could leave. "If you want to talk or need anything, I am just next door, alright? Anytime."

"No worries, Dick," Gwen decided to hold on to her cousin for a wee bit longer to fortify her soul.

_Click._

The door to Gwen's apartment opened.

"Gwen! Richard! You're back!" Petra was in a loose shirt and shorts. From the looks of it, she'd been waiting for them. "I heard from Magister Wen that you used the Regeneration Cube! Are you alright?! What happened?"

Seeing Petra, Gwen felt the compounded tension within her body like gas from a screech cooker.

"Pats!" Gwen left Richard's arms and raced to her cousin.

"Gwen?" Petra allowed her cousin to squeeze her tight. "Richard? What happened?"

"The inevitable happened," Richard replied cryptically.

"You need to call Magister Wen and inform her right away."

"Yeah," Gwen affirmed for Petra what she was likely imagining. "I need to know if there are aftereffects."

Her cousin's eyes widened for a second, then filled with softness. "Alright. Goodnight, Richard. I'll take care of her."

"See you tomorrow. Breakfast is at Mayurees."

Petra watched Richard go, then brought Gwen into the apartment. She dimmed the lights, then settled her cousin on the couch, looking pensive and withdrawn.

"I am sorry it happened after all," Petra spoke softly. "Can I get you some tea?"

"Yes, please." Gwen laid herself out on the couch, sinking into the softness of the enveloping leather. "No sugar, please. It's late."

"Sure." Her cousin heated the water with a quick cantrip, raising the tea's optimum temperature. "Milk?"

"I'll take it black."

"Alright."

Petra sauntered over and handed over a ceramic mug.

"So, what's it like?" She asked after they sipped the first few mouthfuls. Slowly, the scent of chamomile infused the air.

Gwen took a long deep breath, allowing the air to flow from her lungs languishingly.

"I want to say it was terrible. That I was horrified," Gwen began. "But I would be lying."

"Was it..." Petra did not mince words. "Good for you?"

"Oh, Pats, it was pleasurable like you would not believe," Gwen continued softly. "It felt so intense, I... I couldn't think of anything else—not even remorse. It was like I was filling up with new life. How could anyone get enough of that?"

"I see." Petra cupped her drink. "Addictive?"

"I don't know. I am…" Gwen searched for a word but chose to dispense with the euphemism. "Right now, I am feeling full."

"Who was it that Caliban ate?"

"Nephres Zalaam, a Slaver. Someone connected to my past in Sydney."

"Your old Master? Gunther Shultz? Almudj?"

"All of the above."

Petra made an "o" with her lips.

"I haven't told you the whole story, have I?"

"You don't have to." Petra waved her off. "A girl should have her secrets."

"Pats…"

"I would have to tell Master if you told me," Petra explained. "So I don't mind. Really."

"Another time then."

"Another time."

"Caliban ate her in front of Kitty and Mayuree."

"Christ. Are the pair trustworthy?"

"I think so. Mayuree, at least. We are _bonded by fate_ , her words, not mine. Kitty should be fine until Mayuree fulfils her vision and has no more use for me."

The two girls sipped their drinks.

"Would you do it again?" Petra inquired carefully. "Out of necessity, I mean."

Gwen had to force the words from her lips. "I think I would."

"How're your Sigils? What'd she give you?"

"What I stole from Nephres, you mean?" Gwen groaned bitterly. "She's a tier 6 Healer, so I'd guess Evocation and Transmutation, maybe a little Conjuration. Who knows?"

"Master would probably want a full scan," Petra muttered. "If you wish to rest, I'll talk to her."

"No, no," Gwen stopped her cousin. "It's fine."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to," Gwen interjected distantly. "Babulya is right. I need to know, not run."

Petra placed her mug on the coffee table then arranged herself so that Gwen's head rested across her lap. Below Petra's soft eyes, Gwen inhaled the vaguely sweet scent of shampoo and conditioner. She welcomed the warmth of her cousin's thighs against the nape of her neck, feeling the flow of heat connect them. Very occasionally, there was a slight gurgle from Petra's abdomen that made her want to giggle.

"Gwen?" After they remained in the same position for a quarter of an hour, Petra asked.

"Yeah?" Gwen was in a state of zen.

"I am sorry, Gwen," her cousin was apparently at her limits. "Please take a shower. You stink of gore."


Shanghai.

Gouding B1.

Before she went to bed, Gwen sent an LR Message to Elvia via the LRC device, petitioning for a conference on Sunday. Her purpose wasn't so much that she would reveal her direst secrets to Elvia. It was the solace she could gain by speaking to the Healer to bath under her angelic light.

Likewise, she sent an urgent communication to Gunther as well, asking to speak to her Brother-in-craft about the _consumption_ encounter, concurrently requesting an opportunity to converse with Alesia or Yue.

After that, Gwen had her morning session with Magister Wen. Together, they could obtain numbers, investigate a few possibilities, and go from there. Any plans made in haste would be purposeless if their knowledge were incomplete.

Gwen took another shower to cool her feverish mind and wash away the fatigue. Her body felt tense and vital, yet her lobes felt sluggishly strained by insomnia.

Towelling herself dry, she received a Message from Mayuree beside her ear.

_Ding! "_ Ah-Lei is making breakfast now. Come whenever—XXOO"

Gwen had to admit that the ending kissy noises were a little cringeworthy, but the Diviner meant well. Petra was up as soon as Gwen finished with the shower. Her cousin rinsed, slipped into smart casuals, and was ready and waiting by the time Gwen made a confident face to face the world.

When the two girls arrived at the mezzanine of the lofty penthouse, Lei was busily plating a western-style breakfast of petite sandwiches, fingers of French Toast and fresh butter-cream pancakes.

Lulan and Kusu removed themselves from the long table, ejecting themselves from their seats. Together, they bowed as Gwen entered.

"No! Don't do that!" Gwen moved to intercept, flustered by the formality.

"Told you so," Lulan complained at her brother, relaxing.

"That doesn't matter." Kusu shot his sister a glare of vexation. "This is proper!"

"Please, you're making this awkward." Gwen walked past the pair casually, inferring she wasn't keen to stand on ceremony. "Come on, let's sit together."

"See?" Lulan scoffed.

They turned their eyes toward Petra.

"Petra Kuznetsova," the Russian brunette introduced herself. "I am Gwen's cousin and roommate."

"Miss Kuznetsova." The both of them tipped their chins respectfully. Petra was as infamous a second-year as they come. After all, the girl was The Flower—or, as some would say—the Ice Queen of Fudan.

"Pleased to meet you." Petra shook their hands. Like most people meeting Petra for the first time, the effortless intimidation given off by her Siberian husky eyes made her aloof and distant. From what Gwen could guess, Petra's incomplete training at the Moscow Tower had given her a cynical outlook toward folk she did not know well.

"Gwen! Welcome! You're up nice and early!" Mayuree descended from the second floor in a loose shirt and shorts. "Let me freshen up. I'll be down soon. Kitty's already up. She's such a light sleeper."

Kitty sat a little off the couch, facing the magnificent view of the Fudan campus below. She raised a slender hand and waved it flaccidly, communicating her ambivalence at Gwen's presence.

Gwen waved back as the Diviner disappeared. "Kitty, good morning."

Lei brought over a freshly brewed set of coffee and tea.

"This is Lei, Mayuree's maid," Gwen introduced the siblings to the masterful woman running back and forth between the kitchen and the dining. "Don't underestimate her because she's an NoM. Her breakfasts are magical."

"Ah, you're too kind, Mistress Song," Lei simpered, softly sliding the beverages onto the table. "You and Miss Kuznetsova are looking so pretty, as always! Your skin looks amazing today, almost like... healing Mages."

"I have a healthy appetite," Gwen returned Lei's complement guiltily. "It's all your nutritious cooking, Lei. You're spoiling me."

Lei allowed a happy smile to touch her lips, then returned to her labour.

Richard joined them a quarter of an hour later. Soon joined by Mayuree, the party poured over pancakes and coffee, discussing their plans for the immediate future.

"I am going to see Magister Wen for my check-up, and then I'll return to classes on Monday."

"I'll be returning to Nantong for a short while." Richard sipped his milk tea. "For the next few weeks at least, I'll be out of Shanghai four days out of seven."

"You need to relax a little, Dick," Gwen chided her workaholic cousin. She was a compulsive worker too, but her training at the range did not involve daily endangerments. Questing gave practical experience, generated CCs and provided credit, but Richard had left himself with no time to learn new spells or engage in Arcane theory. However, in his view, her cousin felt that practical work with Lea helped him develop his skills the most. He exercised Conjuration constantly while employed under gainful employment and got to practice Abjuration, a School of Magic best practised in the field.

"That's all very good, Dick. BUT would Uncle and Aunty rather wait than have you risk your life?"

Richard thanked her but otherwise offered no verbal confirmation of heeding her advice.

"I am with Gwen. Back to classes." Mayuree chopped into her pancakes, smothering them in Wildland beechwood honey. "That and I need to finish some family requests for Divination."

"Classes & practice." Kitty's answer was abrupt and short.

"We'll look for a place to stay first." Lulan poked her pancake curiously, obviously unused to such delicately made Western food. "Then back to class. I am with Richard, though. Most of my classes will be for Questing credits."

Petra wasn't on the same level as the regular students and left herself out of the conversation. She couldn't participate even if she wanted; her research with Wen on Gwen was classified.

"Where's Marong?" Gwen asked inquisitively. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"As it should be," Kitty replied haughtily. Gwen wondered if this meant she was in a better mood than expected.

"Brother has gone home for a while. There have been some issues with the family business."

"Anything serious?"

"Don't know." Mayuree shrugged. "I didn't have any foreshadowing visions, so it's either nothing serious or..."

"Or?"

"Or it's beyond my ability to foresee." Mayuree shook her head. "Worry not. My brother will take care of it. There's also second-sister to take care of things back at home."

Gwen had asked Mayuree about the family, but the girl's answers remained evasive. Not wanting to step on any toes, Gwen figured Mayuree would tell her when she was comfortable enough to reveal the House of M's mysterious origins.

The breakfast continued until Gwen was full, which was only three pancakes. Lei had prepared three stacks in anticipation of her abnormally large appetite and became notably upset that her labour would be wasted.

"Are you feeling well, Miss?" Lei regarded Gwen worriedly. "You usually finish the whole plate! No need for a diet!"

"I am fine, Lei. Thanks for asking." Gwen firmly pushed the rest of the pancakes away. "Alright, Petra and I better get going. Magister Wen is likely waiting for us. Mia, thanks for breakfast, as usual. Lei, it was delicious."

"Bye, Miss Song!"

"See you in class on Monday! Call me if you want to do lunch, and let Lei know if you're coming for dinner," Mayuree's generosity was boundless.

"Will do." Gwen directed herself to face Lulan and Kusu. "Good luck. I know the rental market can be brutal."

"We should have enough to scrape by," Lulan assured Gwen. "I'll take care of Kusu."

_Should have._ Gwen winced, reminding herself that she still possessed a thousand HDMs once belonging to the siblings. _I should return it,_ Gwen thought. If she was going to help the Li's, a little more generosity couldn't hurt. It wasn't as though she needed the money immediately.

"One more thing. Kusu, I've still got your HDMs." Gwen produced ten 100 HDM currency cards from her ring.

Kusu's refusal to meet her eyes suggested he could use 1000 HDMs to get through the current semester and the next, but he was too honourable to take the cash.

"No, I'll be fine," Kusu replied with eyes that longed for the currency cards. “I’ll live… off… my… sis…”

The sheepishness of the young man broke Gwen's heart.

She shoved the cards toward him.

"On loan then, from me," Gwen informed him. "I'll tell you when I need it back."

Kusu looked as though he was still going to refuse, but Lulan extended her hands and took possession of the currency cards.

"We owe you again, Gwen," Lulan said, her voice taking on an affected tone.

"It's nothing. I also came to Shanghai from the Frontier, so I know how hard it can be without a steady source of income," Gwen assured the siblings. "Anywho. I got to go. Good luck."

Kusu bowed again, this time from the waist. Lulan hesitated for a moment, then mimicked her brother.

Mayuree glanced from Gwen to the siblings, then back again.

Once the two were gone, Mayuree shook her head at Gwen.

"You know, Gwennie," the merchant Diviner made a face. "How come no one thought of asking me for a loan? What's a few thousand HDMs to the heir of the House of M?"

Fudan upper campus.

By mid-June, the weather turned unbearably warm, meaning the greenery encircling the Yi-Fu Spellcraft Building was beginning to fray and dry. The heat, however, failed to dampen the spirit of Magister Wen, who was waiting on the girls in front of the Cognisance Chambers.

"Gwen! You're here!" Magister Wen's cold fingers felt like steel cables. "Oh, you poor dear! That must have been a horrid experience! Terrible, yes! But _wonderful_ all the same!"

"It was bittersweet, for sure." Gwen allowed the Magister to feign her sympathy. She was beginning to empathise with how blue-ribbon cows felt at the Sydney Easter Show.

"Nonetheless, I have full confidence in you." Magister Wen pulled herself away. "Think of the incident as a new chapter, if you will. You have my full support!"

Gwen felt goosebumps crawling up her thighs. The magical haze over the city trapped the heat, but even so, her bare legs reacted as though a chilling wind had blown through the shaded avenues.

"How curious." Magister Wen curled her lips. "You have a very particular aura about you. A Cleric, perhaps. Can you write a report later, perhaps fill out a survey? How was it, on a scale of one to ten, that sort of thing."

"Sure thing, Ma'am." Gwen wasn't sure if Magister Wen's academic disregard made her feel better or worse. The Magister's open admiration for murder, Gwen felt, was precisely the sort of dangerous thinking she should be avoiding.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" The scholar was all smiles. "I've booked the big one! This way!"

The largest of the Cognisance Chambers was almost two tennis courts in size and took fifty HDMs to power a session lasting no more than an hour. Gwen had no idea why Magister Wen had booked such an exorbitant fare, only that she should act with wariness.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

As the trio reached the threshold, they became accosted by two men in military uniforms. From the rank insignias on their collars, Gwen recognised one as a PLA Major, while the other a man dressed like someone from Top Gun, bearing a sky-blue lapel with three stripes. The Major was Han Chinese, carrying the ubiquitous sobriety typical of senior PLA. His counterpart was a dark-haired Caucasian man with a prominent Roman nose.

"Ma'am?" Gwen swallowed twice rapidly. It was a bit early to sell her out. Magister Wen hadn't even completed her papers yet.

"No need to fret, my dear." Magister Wen patted her hand, though Gwen noticed that the Magister had taken the opportunity to grasp her by the wrist. Was she afraid that Gwen was going to abscond? If so, where was she going to go? "These men are here for you. They're neutral observers informing the highest power."

"Observers of what?" Gwen inquired carefully.

The implication made her knock-kneed. Her morning pancakes threatened to make an upward journey; she could almost taste the tart berries tickling the back of her throat.

"Let's speak inside, away from prying eyes." The Caucasian man opened the door. "I mean you no disadvantage, Miss Song, though I cannot say the same for our mutual friend."

"Hmmph!" The PLA officer grunted, proceeding through the threshold.

Inside the Cognisance Chamber, the vast, egg-like sphere of white tiles made a strange, spaceless spectacle. There were no definitive edges for the viewer to gauge the distance, giving the viewer the impression that they'd stepped into a place unconstrained by dimension.

"It'll be okay," Petra assured her. "I don't know who the other guy is, but Commander Webber has connections to the Mageocracy, which means your Siblings-in-craft in Sydney."

With a whisper, the door shut behind them. For a few seconds, the only audible sound was their collective breaths echoing faintly through the acoustic ambience of the chamber.

The man with the protruding Roman nose spoke first.

"Wing Commander Derrick Webber, Miss Song. Attached to the Pudong Tower. I am currently assigned under the 2nd Specialist Aerial Mage-Wing of her Majesty's Royal Forces. I am also a registered Magus under the jurisdiction of The Shard, London."

The PLA Officer scoffed at Webber's British verbosity. "Major Wong, PLA," the soldier announced stoically.

After a formal bow, Gwen extended a hand to shake. Webber took her fingers and gave her a cordial civilian's handshake. Major Wong shot the Commander a look of disdain.

"Very good. I'll take it from here." Magister Wen came between them. "Gentlemen, you may stand there, and Gwen, there. Good. As you know, these men are from the PLA Tower and the Pudong Tower. Both Towers have been keeping an eye on your progress. News of your unique talent has reached some very HIGH places."

"High places, Ma'am?"

Wen pointed a finger upward toward the ceiling.

"So they tell me," Wen replied, glancing at the two men. "At any rate, these men are not here to interfere with your life. They are here to confirm the contents of our paper. Please be at ease."

_That's easy for you to say._ Gwen slightly creased her brows. What was she to show, and what was she to hide?

Magister Wen motioned to the operator hidden in the paned portion of the chamber.

"Begin!"

The chamber dimmed.

Space became indefinite as the illusion took place.

Standing at the chamber's centre, Gwen's Astral Form materialised below her, a sculptural spectacle of light and dark with motes of emerald appearing and disappearing. The two men produced data slates and began to scribe onto the transmuted surface.

"Gwen, cycle through your Schools of Magic, please."

Gwen nodded, then turned her mind inward.

_Evocation._

_Conjuration._

_Abjuration._

_Divination._

_Transmutation._

The Sigils flared one after another, made material by the Cognisance Chamber's illusory projection.

When she examined her examiner for reactions, she saw that Magister Wen's wizened face resembled a ripening pippin. Petra remained stoic while the two military men scribbled furiously on their slates.

The entire room was basked in the glow of illusory Sigils, from the silvery-white of Conjuration to the pale purple nimbus of Transmutation.

"Congratulations, Gwen." Magister Wen clapped her hands.

Perhaps wanting to place more emphasis on the matter, she paused before continuing.

"Or I should say, _Magus_ Gwen Song?"

"I am sorry?" Gwen almost lost her concentration. "M-Magus?"

"Ha! Did that surprise you?" Wen chuckled, her hands touching the palm to make a happy clap. "By Frontier standards, you are indeed already a Magus! We're a little more discerning here in Fudan, though. I doubt you would pass muster in theory craft."

"So you're saying..."

"Oh yes," Magister Wen gushed happily. "Both your Conjuration and Evocation look to have reached the mid-tiers, making you an unofficial Magus!"

A part of Gwen knew she should be happy. Summoning the joy to celebrate her ascension, however, was another challenge altogether.

"Let's have a demonstration for our gentlemen observers," Wen instructed her. "What are your Tier 4 Evocation Spells?"

"Just Elemental Sphere, Ma'am," Gwen felt almost embarrassed to say that as a 'genius' Sorceress, her entire spell list numbered under twenty and was primarily preoccupied with low-level incantations.

"Go ahead then."

Gwen nodded, turning to the far side of the egg-shaped dome. As she cycled through the necessary mental and somatic preparations, her observers again began their furious scribing.

Bit by bit, her Astral Form tapped into the Elemental Plane of Lightning, filling her mana conduits with vivid electricity. The mana coalesced in her torso, then flooded forth as the spell manifested.

"Elemental Sphere!"

Like a pressurised pool of liquid finding escape, the lightning-charged mana escaped from the crucible of her Astral Body, becoming a controlled arc of plasma which traversed toward its target destination, then imploded before rapidly expanding outwards, first as a semi-dome sphere, then as a burst of static electricity.

"That's Einar Larsen's Signature Spell." Wing Commander Webber raised a brow of approval. "I know this spell too. It is not easy to master!"

"It's all I know," Gwen peeped modestly.

"You're only seventeen!" Commander Webber informed her confidently. "When I was seventeen, I was suffering detention at Sandhurst for failing muster! A tier 4 Signature Spell at seventeen, and you feel ashamed? You shame me!"

His counterpart tapped his slate.

"It's impressive," Major Wong concurred. "Please continue."

"Are you alright to perform a Void variant?" Magister Wen asked her carefully.

"Yes, Ma'am." Gwen was also interested in seeing what would happen if she should try to expend some of this excess vitality.

Taking a deep breath, she resumed her labour.

Below, her Astral Form assumed a tenebrous ichor of sinister obsidian. The gathered Mages felt a tingle of vertigo as a nauseating awareness assailed their physical bodies.

"Void Sphere!"

The spell manifested as an expanding bubble of sable ink that exploded outwards in a swirling pattern of Void matter. When the second stage concluded, it had caused extensive damage to the self-repairing tiles below.

"How do you feel?" Magister Wen asked carefully, observing Gwen's Astral Body returning to its usual admixture of lightning, Void, and an occasional mote of fleeting emerald.

Both of her observers resumed their scribing.

Gwen checked her state of being. She felt fine. There was no feeling of Negative-Energy drains anywhere on her body.

"Excellent! Very good," Magister Wen had concluded after reading her Astral projection. That was the thing with the Cognisance Chamber—there was no place to hide. For the lack of a better word, everything was in plain sight. "Wonderful, Gwen! Thanks to your incident, we've verified an answer for the self-consumption problem suffered by Void users!"

Gwen shuddered to think what Wen could mean by that.

"I don't see any diminishment, though," Magister Wen tapped her chin. "Gwen, bring out your Familiars."

Gwen obliged.

"Eeee! EEEE!"

"Shaaa! Shaa!"

At the appearance of Caliban, the two men's expressions underwent a variety of changes.

The Cognisance Chamber's mirror-like floors magnified the mana signatures of her creatures. Caliban was a roving mass of dense dark energy larger than its actual size in the Material Plane. Ariel, meanwhile, had a signature to match its diminutive size.

"How curious!" Magister Wen walked around her Familiars, then beckoned Caliban closer for a better study. The two military men unconsciously stepped back.

Enjoying her superior knowledge, Wen produced a fist full of untreated HDMs, scattering the shards in front of her.

Caliban snagged one with a tentacle, then munched away, slapping its tail against the floor as it did so. Ariel caught another with its little paws before nibbling away, arcing electricity as the mana discharged.

Carefully, the Magister materialised a Spell cube next to Gwen's Familiars.

"Do you see the similarity?" the Magister inquired of Gwen.

Gwen saw that beneath the unassuming-looking Spell Cube, there was a mass of glowing elemental fire in vivid orange.

"Caliban is storing... Void mana?"

"Something to investigate, for sure," Wen nodded.

"There's so much we don't know. Your predecessor didn't exactly leave notes, and her husband was a very zealous protector."

Who Wen meant was Elizabeth Sobel and Henry Kilroy, Gwen duly noted. She wondered what Magister Wen knew. According to her Master, many in his confidence had known the truth, though now, they were either dead or held positions where such a thing was no longer of significant concern to them. Indeed, from what she recalled of Henry's tone, the upper echelon of the Mageocracy should have some clue as to the true nature of Elizabeth Sobel. The fact that for years she was promoted as a war hero and one of the central figures in reclaiming a global front against Demi-humans, though, likely prevented widespread recognition of her current occupation as a terrorist.

Just in case, Gwen glanced at her two impassive observers. Neither of the men appeared to possess any misgivings about Wen's musing.

Magister Wen nodded. "Gentlemen, have you seen enough? Any more would violate our agreement."

Two sets of eyes fell upon Gwen. The PLA official appeared dissatisfied, but his protest was interrupted by his counterpart, who stowed his slate and inclined his head.

"I will take my leave. Magister Wen. Miss Song. You shall have Pudong's support."

"Right." Major Wong grunted a likewise affirmation.

The trio watched the two men leave by the exit. Gwen wondered how they could find the door unerringly in the fantastical illusion of the chamber.

"Well, that went pretty well, don't you think?" Magister Wen sounded happy.

" _Well,_ how?" Gwen's voice came across as a little more reproachful than she intended.

Petra came closer and touched Gwen's hand.

Magister Wen waved her apprentice away.

"Would you believe it if I told you that these men are not here for you? The drinking gentleman's heart is not for what's in the cup, so to speak."

"Ma'am?" Gwen did not understand the idiom.

Magister Wen chuckled. "They're here to ensure that each other did not unduly gain an advantage. The Pudong Tower and the PLA Tower—are two sides of the same coin; rivals since China joined the coalition of nations. There's history there if you're interested. Petra can tell it to you some time."

"So, they're here to ensure we're not favouring one side over another?"

"Yes, dear," Magister Wen applauded her. "I always ensure that both sides balance one another. They should contend with each other before they contend with you. Don't you think?"

"I see, Ma'am," Gwen considered the Magister's words.

"At any rate, this meeting wasn't supposed to happen for some time. I had originally scheduled it for the end of the year. If anything, your rapid progress is to blame."

"Ma'am?"

"You've attained a significant level of Spellcraft, Gwen. I know you're just seventeen, but you must consider the practical outcome of your growing talent. How could either Tower sit idle when you have progressed to a tier of destructive power capable of pacifying small population centres?"

Gwen felt her stomach lurch.

Wiping out a town?

Who did they think she was? Sobel?

"I know your concern. But, if you wish to maintain a decorum of autonomy, Gwen," Magister Wen advised. "You must pay the cost of privacy."

"I'll be... under observation?" Gwen asked.

"No, not as such." Magister Wen battered her hand dismissively. "No more than me, Petra, or any other Mage of significant note. We know that you're connected to Magus Shultz—the Lord Protector of Sydney had stated as such. We know you're similar to Elizabeth Sobel. Oh, don't look so surprised. After all, Kilroy's wife _was_ one of the signature champions of the Coral Sea War and the most famous Void Mage of the latter century."

_Sobel was also a signature example of how south things can go,_ Gwen muttered internally.

"Sufficient to say, stay away from factional politics. Once you choose a side, you will lose the protection you enjoy. Unless you can find enough prestige and accord to stand on your own."

That would be Gunther's plans for the IIUC; Gwen acknowledged her Brother-in-craft's foresight. If the three of them stood together, and if their Master's old connections could lean in to put weight on the matter, it wasn't unreasonable for herself to remain independent.

"Don't trouble your pretty head," Wen advised. "Much of this is beyond what you can do personally. We're done for today, though. Klavdiya couldn't book the laboratory on such short notice. She will attend to you tomorrow, around noon. Make sure you report to the hospital."

"Should I go home?" Gwen's thinking was still firmly stuck on the paranoia of a PLA panopticon.

_Then again_ , she tried to convince herself. It wasn't as though 'privacy' was any more sacred in her old world. The government had your tax records and medical records. Google and Facebook had your private 'likes' and 'dislikes'. A thousand and one companies had your address, phone, and emails logged to spam at their pleasure. Everything was hidden behind gargantuan TS&As that no one, including herself, ever read.

"No! Relax, and have some fun! Go to a cafe or do whatever it is that young girls like yourselves go and do. Take Petra with you. Mao knows she needs a break too. You've had a long week, Gwen. Don't tire yourself out."

Magister Wen's advice was surprisingly lax. But the Magister was right. She needed to relax and rest her mind.

Magister Wen approached the exit, then paused by the door.

"Have you changed your mind regarding our earlier discussion?"

"Ma'am?" Gwen inquired. _Which discussion was that?_

"About feeding your talents in a controlled environment. Death-penalty prisoners, Demi-humans... lots of good there, remember? Now that we know how your consumption works, it would be a net positive outcome for all of us, not to mention society itself, no? Perhaps you have a preference? Rapists, murderers and slavers. I know you're squeamish, but give it some thought, alright? The choice is yours."

Every follicle of Gwen's hair stood on end.

"Shaa?" Caliban raised its head and looked toward her, feeling itself in its Master's horror.

"One more thing— _NO Spellcraft training,_ " the Magister reminded her prized cow. "No duelling and excessive display of Magic either! I want to see tomorrow's biometrics exactly as we've left it!"


"In all the history of Fudan, you are the first," Petra reprimanded her cousin.

Gwen made a face, sipping miserably from her iced matcha latte.

Sitting on the table was Ariel in its docile form. Gwen figured she would continue Instructor Chen's ongoing training in which the students keep their Familiars manifested at all times. Below their table, the eight-foot body of Caliban in its obsidian serpent form coiled around the girl's ankles, wrapping a length of its torso against Gwen's heels as it shied from the summer sun.

By now, Gwen accepted that everywhere she went, the patrons would ogle at their pleasure. Maybe it was the local culture, or mayhap, like a writer once wrote—a woman's beauty did not belong to herself alone. Either way, her mind was in too much turmoil to object to the uninvited gazes.

The two girls were waiting for Mina and Tao, who wanted to meet for a luncheon. The cafe they'd chosen was a new place renovated by the owner to resemble an extensive garden shed. Perennials, fed on a diet of quasi-magically enchanted water, bloomed heedless of the season, expending their vitality for a few precious months until finally, spent, they were replaced by blossoms of a different season.

"The Language of Flowers," the shop was called, located not far from University Boulevard in a rezoned district gentrified by sorcerers moving in from the suburbs. Its patrons were predominantly of the magical variety: young and old, acolytes and neophytes, joined by the occasional Magus. For students who had never left the CBD, they would have believed that Mages primarily occupied all Human cities. Realistically, even in a District of 100,000 like D-35, no more than a hundred magic users and one Magus existed at best within each district.

"First of what?" Gwen thought back to the two military men who'd parted less than amiably from each other, turning her attention back toward her cousin.

"The first Magus who has the spell list of an _acolyte_ , haha!" Petra chuckled, sipping her iced coffee.

An NoM waitress with bright eyes and a cute flower apron brought out shortcakes and petite fours. Petra dropped a few LDMs, telling the worshipful girl to keep the change.

"Well then, Miss Kuznetsova." Gwen leaned back in the elevated garden chair and stretched. "What do you suggest I should learn?"

"First, figure out what you're missing." Petra shrugged. "Maybe go Adventuring or Dungeoneering and get a feel for what spells you want to pick up."

"I have no time~" Gwen tapped her fingers against the beading waters on the tall glass of her matcha latte. "I need to complete my theory classes first."

Somewhere in the back of her head, Magister Wen's latest proposal knocked against her chest like a drum.

_"Death-penalty prisoners, Demi-humans... lots of potentials there—"_

She couldn't help but be reminded that Nephres had said that Henry had started Elizabeth by feeding her prisoners as fodder. Was it true, then? Did her Master authorise such a thing? But then again, did they even share the same circumstance? Her Master and Elizabeth were in the middle of the Coral Sea War. They were fighting to ensure the entire east coast colonies of Terra Australis survived. For them, life had been one war zone after another for almost a decade.

Yet, try as she might in rationalising Magister Wen's _good intention_ , her paranoia buzzed like the tinnitus susurration of a mosquito.

That the idea possessed pros and cons frightened her with breathless horror. After all, what had the Affinity to all Schools of Magic cost Sobel?

Only her sanity.

Sensing itself in her thoughts, Caliban shifted from its resting position. Gwen felt the cold caress of her Void-creature's obsidian body against the warmth of her skin, simultaneously shuddering at the memory of Caliban's hunger.

Suppose she chose to subsequently 'consume' all her enemies. What portion of her intent would lie in self-defence, what division would be given to ambition, and what share would be driven by the strange hunger that would surely awaken once her current store of vitality was spent?

How steep was the slippery slope ahead? At what junction does the incline become free fall?

_What makes a man if all he cares for is sleep and feed?_ A beast! No more!

_BEEP-BEEP!_

A dark Audi sedan disrupted Gwen's internal philosophising. The door opened, the engine plinked, two familiar faces emerged.

Tao' Peaches' Wang had a way of sauntering where the gait of his 'gangster' strut made him appear mildly intoxicated at all times, wavering back and forth like he was ducking an invisible boxer.

"Yo! Mah bi-b… emm… eu… tiful ladies!" Tao was instantly the ire of every patron in the cafe. "Gwen, you looking sweet-ass!"

"Eeeee!" Ariel greeted the newcomers.

"Wassap! Mah Cat-snake brother!" Tao fist-bumped Ariel's paws, bringing a broad smile to Gwen's lips. Lacking Elvia's divine presence, it took someone like Tao to divest herself from ethical dilemmas that plagued her Path every inch of the way.

"Shaa-Shaa!" Caliban hissed its greeting from under the table.

"Sup? Big Dick Caliban!"

One of the patrons began a coughing fit. Another spilt her tea.

"Peaches! Stop it!" Gwen was already beside herself. There was nothing like Peaches to offset depression.

"Petra! Yo yo..." Tao turned his attention toward Petra.

Petra's husky blue eyes were two orbs of pale crystal.

"Hello."

"Good afternoon, Peaches. How are you?"

"I am doing well," Tao replied solemnly, his fingers subconsciously forming a gang sign.

"Pats! Gwen!" Mina bypassed Tao's stooping figure and embraced her cousins. "I hope you're feeling better, Gwen."

Tao sat, both legs splayed like a spatchcock. As per his unique style, Tao's choice of all-weather Adidas, paired with a broad-billed baseball cap, cared little for Shanghai's latest trends.

"I heard from babulya that you had a tough time at the Districts," Mina began, her oval eyes glimmering with sympathy. "I am here if you want to talk about it."

"Aww, thanks, Mina. I appreciate that."

"Me too, dawg." Tao nodded affirmatively. "If you want my advice, you should write a song about it and mix it up with sick beats! That way, you can expel yo demons, dawg. BOOM! Then you feel released like Yo just laid a huge log, ya know?"

"Thanks, Peaches, I'll take your advice into careful consideration," Gwen thanked her cousin kindly, fighting the laughter arresting her chest.

Horrified, Gwen and her audience couldn't dispel the vision of this _log_ that Tao had driven into the recess of her mind.

"Don't think about it," Mina advised, catching Petra's pained expression. "Instead, think about spell incantations. I find that reciting my healing mantras helps immensely. I don't know how he comes up with this stuff. Maybe he's a genius?"

"Lyrical Gee!" Tao worked himself again. "Dis bad boy's moonlighting at the Shan tonight! Gwen, Pats, treat yo-self and check out the boys and me down at the Club making sweet noise!"

"He means he and his friends are performing at the Waldorf Astoria Shanghai—basement B2," Mina translated. She paused, looked as though she wanted to add something, but refrained from doing so. "I'd say it's the usual crudeness, but the Waldorf Astoria is a very nice hotel. We can stop by before or after and have drinks. They're famous for their cocktails."

"Mimi, you gotta stop stepping on mah log, bitch. Don't put the B-boyz and me down in front 'o Kuz! That's not cool."

"Nobody calls me that, Peaches." Mina rolled her eyes expertly, evidently having had plenty of practice. "Besides, you're upsetting Petra. Stop talking."

Petra appeared thoroughly troubled by Tao's increasingly disturbing premise.

"Here's yo tickets, Gwen." Tao produced two golden slips, one for Gwen and the other for Petra. "VIP, backstage access, front row, whatever you need!"

"Wow, you _are_ putting on a show." Gwen took the tickets and passed one over to Petra, who took it dubiously. "There's going to be an audience other than… us… right?"

"AHAHAHAHA, you funny!" Tao laughed nervously, providing a hasty addendum. "We got a fan club, bitches galore!"

Both Petra and Gwen turned to Mina, who took on a troubled expression.

_Bitches, huh?_ Gwen considered Tao's declaration. She supposed that the heir of Wang Xin Enterprise would naturally possess a fan club—the Gold Digger's Club.

"He's not lying," Mina confessed. "Don't look at me. I don't know how it's possible either."

Gwen regarded the ticket in her hand.

'Battle of Rhymes' the tagline said. 'The Waldorf Astoria Shanghai, B-2.'

She wanted—no—she needed to blow off some stress: alcoholic refreshments, music, and good friends in a high-class hotel sounded like just the 'ticket'.

"I'll go," Gwen announced her participation with as much fatalism as Lulan confessing her misdeeds at D-109. A hip-hop party? Sure, she had been a club regular in her old world.

"Petra, do you have the time to escort me? I could go by myself if you're busy."

"I'll go," Petra said. "Magister Wen would not want you to get into MORE trouble. Tao, if one of your fans decides to get handsy, it's your funeral."

Mina shrugged. "I'll pick you guys up and take you home if you're coming," she offered. "Peaches will pay all incurred costs, including unlimited drinks."

"Of course! Aww yeah!" Tao visibly pumped a fist in victory.

Tao and Mina's drinks arrived: a spritzer for the sister and a beer for the Illusionist rapper. The trio talked, with Gwen stating that she'd save her adventure at D-109 for when they could speak in less public space with less commotion and more intimacy.

"Great idea," Mina assured Gwen. "The Astoria once had the longest bar in the world! It's a relic from the old colonial days. You're going to love the cocktails."

Gwen pointed her finger at herself.

"I am not eighteen yet..."

Saying that about herself made her incredibly self-conscious.

Mina chuckled. "We know the management, don't worry."

"Okay! You are the boss! Hoss!" Tao happily meandered off to pay the bill. "See you guys at the show!"

Mina made sure that Tao was out of sight before she apologised.

"He's getting better, believe it or not," she told them. "He's much more confident after Hengsha Island. Thanks, Gwen."

"I can't help but feel deeply suspicious," Gwen observed Mina's halting speech and guilty expression. "What's at this show? Why does he want me and Petra to attend so desperately?"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Let's talk while we shop." Mina slid off the barstool. "If he truly upsets you, don't hesitate to give him a good beating. He'll be sore for a while, but whatever your choice, it won't leave a scar."

"Coming, Pats?" Gwen asked her cousin, who did not at all have an interest in retail therapy.

"Sure, let's relax for the rest of the day." Petra stepped from the stool. "I suspect I shall need many drinks before the night's over."

_The rationale why Gwen and Petra must attend—_ as Mina explained over a selection of party dresses at K-11, was that Tao had made a careless bet.

"Again?" Gwen spluttered.

"What is it this time?" Petra scowled.

"Please don't get upset." Mina braced the girls for impact. "So, what happened was that Peaches... boasted to his circle of friends that he played a pivotal role at Hengsha, saving the two of you."

"That seems reasonable," Gwen affirmed that Tao did make a good contribution to their hunting down of the Elder Gila. "I can accept that."

"Yeah..." Mina waited until Gwen finished. "Naturally, he told them that the two of you are his… close acquaintances."

"We're family. I am cool with that too." Gwen held up a mini-dress and pressed it against her waist. The colour was beautiful, but the cut did not conform to her figure.

"Not his exact words, I take it," Petra added coldly, feeling the fabric of a sheer blouse between her fingers before letting it fall.

"No, not exactly."

"What did he call us? His whores?" Petra was relentless, cutting through the evasive euphemism with the keen edge of a crystalline shard.

Mina was visibly cringing.

"HE DID NOT!" Gwen appeared stunned by Tao's looseness, thinking of the ubiquitously annoying hip-hop clichés from her old world. "Really? We're related!"

"I don't think he intended it to mean anything," Mina interjected before Gwen's opinion of Tao soured entirely. "More like, you know, helpers."

"We're his _shorties_?" Gwen jeered.

"We're his _bishes_ ’," Petra's frigid tone could rival Kitty's arcane ice.

Mina sighed. "Look, he means well."

"How exactly?" Gwen demanded as the trio left the shop and entered another.

"We all know Peaches," Mina said. "Or not. I guess you guys don't. But you know he doesn't mean half the things he says. They just come out of his mouth like an illness. Like his 'ill' rhymes."

"Tourette's Syndrome," Gwen suggested helpfully.

"I don't know what that is, but sure," Mina said.

"It's a neurological disorder where people fail to suppress unwanted premonitory urges," Gwen clarified. "Though saying the word 'bitch’ every other sentence is hardly a part of the spectrum."

"Is this disease recorded in a book?" Petra's attention perked up at her Gwenism.

"I heard it from someone in Australia once," Gwen lied. "There was a guy called Gilles de la Tourette, who had severe muscular and verbal tics that he couldn't help. He's dead now. His tic got him while chanting a spell, and he blew up."

"Oh." Petra seemed disappointed.

"I get what you're saying. I suppose it's Peaches being Peaches. So what happened?" Gwen continued.

"Some of his 'friends' doubted that this whole ordeal about Hengsha is real," Mina spoke with exasperation. "To be honest, I still can't believe we came first. Anyway, Peaches got riled up, a fight ensued, he got his ass handed to him - and now they have a bet."

"Who and what is this bet about?"

"Well - if Peaches can prove you're his… er… helpers," Mina replied. "Then he gets a favour from Sammy Gu and Sammy's limited edition Ether-Engine Roadster."

"If he loses?"

"He has to give up the Battle of Rhymes by singing about himself being a filthy liar, and Sammy gets to keep Tao's car."

"Tao has a car?" Petra raised a sceptical eyebrow. She didn't know Tao could drive.

Mina pointed a finger toward her chest helplessly. "I have a car. It's 'our' car," she moped.

Gwen felt her sympathy pour forth like spilt soup.

"Look, I'll help out," she declared sweetly. "To save your car, if nothing else. Petra, what do you say? We have to show up. He's not expecting us to... do anything else, I hope."

"I'll break both his legs," Petra stated matter-of-factly. "Uncle Wang would probably thank us."

"Please do," Mina muttered.

" _There, there._ " Gwen patted Mina, drawing her into her arms. "You poor little thing."

"I am older than you." Mina reddened, pushing Gwen away.

"I am bigger than you." Gwen grinned, towering over Mina in more ways than one. Mina was a year Tao's junior and the second oldest of Team Cousins. It was her ageless appearance which was misleading. Where Petra could easily be mistaken for her mid-twenties, Mina could be mistaken for a junior high schooler.

"Hmmph!" Mina turned her head, pouting.

"Well, let's pick something out then," Gwen announced to the girls. "Party frock or something more subtle?"

Petra checked the price tag and then furrowed her brows.

I wonder what would happen if Petra attended in her yoga pants, Gwen mused to herself. Certainly, who could complain?

"Pick whatever you want," their wealthy cousin steeled her resolve before making the offer kindly, a mischievous smile touching her lips. "After all, Tao's paying."

The girls arrived back at Fudan B-1 just after 4 PM, where they could change into their newly acquired outfits for the evening. Petra and Gwen watched Mina longingly gaze at her Audi as they parcelled out the contents of their shopping, amused by the sudden sentimentality Mina felt for her sedan.

It was a stupid bet. Not even Gwen could deny that. One that could only occur among adults whose IQ was disproportionately lower than their financial thresholds. There was such a word for it in Shanghai—the Fu-er-dai, or the progeny of the mega-wealthy. It was just as well that Tao's vice was his passion for music, not something nefarious.

As for Tao's family, Gwen knew well that keeping the siblings in her good graces would benefit her one day.

After all, the Patriarch was a self-made man! At fifty, he had established himself with the necessary connections and favours to leave the CCP administration and open his own resource extraction company, Wang Xing Enterprise. Under the Wang title, WX Capital extracted crystals from contracted Green and Orange Zones. WX Construction was a state-owned co-op company that built infrastructural projects for the state. Finally, WX E&E was a cooperative partnered with the Towers, serving the explicit purpose of searching for new resources.

Though Mina dismissed her father's exploits, Gwen understood that Bao Wang had succeeded in the rare Communist climate despite the odds.

How was it that such a man married Nen? Mina's air-headed mother? Gwen was beyond curious.

According to Mina, Bao had met Nen Song, Gwen's aunty, at a charity gala. The unwary Nen helped Bao with a spilt drink, kept him company, and then bid him goodbye. Even when Bao arranged for repeatedly fortuitous meetings, she blithely recognised him as the poor man with the ruined shirt.

"You don't care who I am or what I do?" He had asked her incredulously on their third date.

"Why does it matter?" Nen replied with complete earnestness. "You're just Bao."

Bao Wang was sold.

"I can't believe he doesn't have a mistress," Mina remarked once, to which Gwen responded by choking on her char-siu bun. "In Shanghai, among the rich, they say three's company; two is none. All my friend's fathers, and sometimes their mothers, have a 'side dish'."

In his perfect middle life, the one regret that the Wangs possessed was Tao's desire to be a musician.

"I use the word 'musician' lightly." Mina gibed when Gwen asked what Tao would be performing in the evening. "That tongue-flapping Western thing they do… I don't know."

Gwen didn't mind at all that Tao wanted to be a rapper. The phenomenon had changed the very landscape of music in her old world. She pledged that, given a chance, she would watch some of those banned American Vid-Casts and offer Tao some advice, plagiarised from the USA of her past.

The two-bedroom apartment was too small for the three girls to get ready at once, so they took turns between the two bedrooms and the one bathroom, conversing loudly with one another through open doorways.

Gwen's selection was a matt navy mini-dress with a plunging V-neck. Light and airy, the form-fitted fabric was enchanted to expand and contract, allowing the lining to stretch without hampering the wearer's movements.

Petra, who had a military upbringing and had a distinctly Eastern European perception of modesty, emerged in a denim skirt and black t-shirt, her face made up with nought but lip-gloss and the barest of eyeliners.

"Oh. My. MAO!" Mina's tone was equal parts jealousy, worship, and awe.

Unlike Gwen, whose limbs were supple and refined, Petra was the definition of vivacity, like a ballet prima donna. Observing her cousin, Gwen grew increasingly smitten until her inevitable meeting with Petra's crystal-blue eyes. There was very good reason Petra had been hand-picked by the Moscow Tower to be their femme fatale, Gwen postulated. In her mind, Petra could have been a modern-day Lucrezia Borgia.

Her cousin was not amused by the attention. Instead, the girl redirected Gwen's gaze to Mina, whose defeated choice encompassed a loose varsity shirt that emphasised her bust, paired with shorts and dark knee-socks to create a very Asian appeal.

"Where's Richard?" Mina released the question she must have kept on her tongue all day, her face blushing adorably. "Is he... next door?"

"Richard's away on errands," Gwen informed her. "He'd be over otherwise, even if it's just to check on us."

"Ah—alright." Mina appeared disappointed by the news. "Next time." According to her schedule, Tao's so-called Battle of Rhymes was slated to begin around 8 PM. The girls could get there around 7 PM and load up on some drinks before they had to be subjected to Tao's music.

"You sure we're not going to be harassed?" Gwen tugged on her dress, bringing the hem a little lower. "I shouldn't expend any magic..."

"Peaches' friends will be there," Mina assured them. "Dad is well known at the Metropolitan as well. If you're worried, I'll have a word with the management. The backers for the Hotel are not the sort of people the average Guan-er-dai or Fu-er-dai can contend with."

"Alright," Gwen nodded sceptically, uneasy at the prospect of yet another asshole whose frontal lobe became checkmated by an erection.

When she had spoken about her many terrible experiences with Petra, her cousin was sceptical.

"I've been harassed now and then, but never like what you've gone through," Petra raised both brows. "Trust me. I've had enough training to know that you're not the type to drive men crazy. The occasional pervert—I could believe—but all the time? Maybe you're just unlucky?"

" _It keeps happening!_ " Gwen tried to rationalise the phenomenon. "The NoM on the train, I could somewhat understand. But Richard's juniors at my Uncle's were just gross, especially after I met them again, and they were perfectly fine. There's Dai, who lost his head, and those Mages in the Dungeon. I mean, you were there too. Did anyone try to have a go at you?"

"Have a go?" Petra had snorted with derisive laughter.

"Ergh... you know." Gwen grabbed at the air with her hands.

"I don't understand," Petra smirked. "Have a go at what?"

"Never mind," Gwen changed the subject.

For some reason, her mind always wandered toward the lumen pics of Elizabeth Sobel. It was impossible not to think of her Master's wife when her reflection in the mirror was pale and loitering.

Sobel had an allure about her—a kind of hunger that was infectious. She was beautiful but compared to Petra or even Alesia, Sobel was only slightly above average. What the woman possessed, instead, was an incredible presence, a kind of 'attraction' and 'allure' that was difficult to frame with words.

A pang of hunger and madness, perhaps.

A feeling akin to standing at a perilous precipice and having a sudden urge to leap.

Gwen blew a lungful of air through her lips.

She looked at the clock; it was almost 630. They had better—

_‘BEEEP-AAAA-eeeeee-KERRRRRR’_ From the table, the LRC device blared its unholy chorus.

Gwen bolted for the projector. Despite the cruel heels strapped to her thin ankles, her movements were akin to a female leopard protecting its cubs.

The call was from Gunther, not Evee.

"Do you want us to clear out?" Petra inquired as the call connected.

Gwen considered her cousin's proposal. Of course, she could bring Mina into her circle of confidence, but sometimes the truth wasn't worth the trouble. Mina's life was happily naive and carefree. There was no need to rope the healer onto her Raft of the Medusa.

She nodded.

"We'll wait for you by the lift," Petra informed her. "Come on, Mina. You don't want to hear this."

Mina followed Petra out the door.

Gwen turned to the device as the illusory projection manifested.

"Gwen!" Instead of Gunther, Alesia's worried face appeared. "You said there's something dire and urgent? I got Gunther here with me, and… WHOOOOAAA! NICE! What are you wearing? Are you going out?"

Her desired tale of misfortune grew dubious in Gwen's mind. After all, how dangerous could her circumstances be if she was in a party dress and stiletto heels?

"The dress is… for another matter. I've got something important to inform Gunther and yourself," Gwen said seriously.

"Ohhh! You look lovely!" Alesia gushed, her blue eyes twinkling. "What did you do to your complexion?! What product are you using? Is it an Enchantment? Some fruit from the Wildlands? What sort? How much for a dozen?!"

"Alesia…"

"Godness. I can't get enough of my little sister! Such a beautiful child! How come you never dressed like that around us in Sydney? Bachelors would be beating down the door if—"

"Alesia!" Gwen had to flap her arms as though she was trying to take flight with invisible wings. "Listen! My news is important!"

"Alright, Alex, come on, let Gwen speak." Gunther's voice could be heard beside Alesia.

"Fine, fine," Alesia relented, grumbling.

Gunther's face came into view. "I see you're doing well in Shanghai," he chuckled. "Boyfriend?"

"Not you too, Gunther!" Gwen waved her hand in front of her face frantically. "Look, I got something to tell you. It happened. I ate a lady the other day and stole her talents."

"You did WHAT?!" Alesia pushed Gunther away from the cube's projection. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. "Like, with a fork?"

"Like in Blackheath, I mean," Gwen corrected herself. "I had Caliban take her in one gulp, though I am pretty sure that like before, you know... the brain, the heart, and the offal."

"Was she alive?"

"And kicking…" Gwen's hollow tone echoed her devastated conscience.

"Did she deserve it?" Alesia was naturally unperturbed. "It's fine if they deserved it."

"That's why I am calling," Gwen began. "It's about Elizabeth Sobel…"