The heavy oak door to the Pope Mystic's study closed with a soft click behind Mystic Far. His silhouette disappeared down the dimly lit corridor, swallowed by shadows that felt thicker than usual. Pope Mystic sighed, the sound barely audible against the rich tapestries lining the hall. It pained him, this eternal competition with his long-lost sibling. Mystic Far's return from wherever life had taken him had found the Pope Mystic already clad in the scarlet robes of high office. That burning need to surpass him, fueled by an insatiable pride, had driven Mystic Far to the brink and beyond. Challenging the Blademasters wasn't just ambition; it was a desperate cry against the specter of his brother's shadow.
---
A month's hard travel across the parched badlands of the Dark Province had yielded four major cities scoured, yet zero signs of their quarry. The Elves remained ghosts. Dunce withdrew into a profound silence that worried Dunce Rock and Rockforce Rockforce. He spoke little, his eyes perpetually shadowed by grief and the specter of loss that trailed him like a second shadow.
Spreading the worn, synth-leather map across the hood of their dusty hover-transport, Dunce Rock tapped a location. "Mica City. The last major settlement in Dark Province. If the trail is cold here…" He didn't need to finish. Failure here meant pushing deeper into unknown, potentially hostile territory. Mica City sprawled on the western edge of the province, its gleaming reputation only second to the infamous capital city of the region. They were twenty clicks out.
In stark contrast to Dunce's brooding, Cloud radiated a quiet, serene calm. Trauma had receded beneath a natural shyness and gentle strength. She moved with practiced silence at the group's rear, her contribution evident during their rests – a warm synth-stew prepared, gear meticulously maintained, bandages applied with care. Her kindness had woven threads of deep affection and respect within the unlikely group.
"Come on, Dunce!" Rockforce Rockforce barked, kicking the transport's heavy tire. The dust cloud hung in the stale air. "Shake it off, man! This moping is worse than slogging through radioactive sludge."
Dunce lifted his gaze, revealing eyes clouded with internal fog. Revenge for Frostbone… it had offered fleeting satisfaction, then plunged him deeper into the abyss. Memories of her final sacrifice – that fierce, icy devotion directed solely at *him* – surfaced constantly, threatening to overwhelm him. "Sorry, Rockforce Rockforce," he mumbled, voice rough. "Just… words feel pointless."
Dunce Rock placed a heavy hand on Dunce's shoulder. "Dunce… Frostbone is gone. Her vengeance was served. She… she wouldn't want this for you. Dragging yourself through hell every day? Keep moving. That's what she'd tell you."
Dunce managed a ghost of a smile. "Right, brother. Moving. Mica City next." He forced his legs forward, the effort palpable. Suddenly, a bone-deep chill gripped him – an instinctive dread, a predator's warning sense. He scanned the desolate road, cracked asphalt shimmering under the harsh sun. Nothing moved. Then it happened.
*BOOM!* A section of road erupted just beside him, showering him in grit and debris. Hidden within the choking dust, a shard of pure lethality – a stiletto blade angled perfectly for his heart. Combat instincts honed by near-death encounters kicked in faster than thought. An aura of seething green energy, the manifestation of his Verdant Fury Ki (生生真氣), flared around him, repelling the worst of the dust. His left hand moved in a defensive arc, solid Ki manifesting as a shimmering shield of yellow light.
*CLANG!* The blade struck the shield. Dunce grunted, feeling the sharp, drilling intensity of his attacker's Ki trying to pierce his defense – precise, invasive, merciless. But Dunce was far from the raw kid who first set out. A month of channeling energy from the second Ki core awakening within his chest had forged him anew. Verdant Fury, especially its mutable Shieldform (生生變), was imperious. With a fierce shout, he poured more Ki into the shield. Simultaneously, his right hand slashed through the dusty veil, condensing Ki into a wicked yellow edge – a sharp Kei-Katana made of pure force.
The attacker gasped – clearly stunned by the ferocity and precision of his counter. She blurred sideways, inhumanly fast, leaving afterimages. Twin blades materialized like hornet stings, one targeting his throat, the other seeking the vulnerable space below his ribs. The attack was a vicious ballet, smooth, efficient, its killing intent freezing the air around Dunce.
Dunce felt a jarring sense of déjà vu. But this wasn't the confused boy of before. He matched her speed, blurring sideways. Both hands danced, intricate and deadly. Yellow threads of mutable Ki energy, flexible as razor wire yet potent as steel cables, shot out – the Ensnaring Strands (斗氣絲) – seeking to entangle her lethal grace.
Surprise crackled across the woman's aura. The sheer oppressive *presence* of this evolving Ki-form rattled her composure. She threw herself backward in a desperate evasion. But she wasn't fast enough. The Ki strands sliced close. A startled cry escaped her lips as her dark cowl was shredded away, revealing a face of breathtaking, glacial beauty – sharp, pale, etched with an unnerving, familiar hatred.
Dunce froze. Not at her beauty, but at the terrifyingly familiar *coldness*. The utter disdain in those eyes mirrored Frostbone's frigid glare perfectly. "Frostbone—?" The name tore from his throat, raw and desperate.
The assassin – **Phoenixbane** – hesitated. The conviction hardening her purpose softened for an unnerving second. Why? She'd tailed them for days across the wastelands, ever since whispers of this group reached the Thieves Guild network. Her uncle's blood demanded payment. Yet, seeing the raw agony in this boy's – Dunce's – eyes… something shifted deep within her icy resolve. "Frostbone is dead," she hissed, her voice the scrape of metal on frost. "*I* collect his debt."
But Dunce was already moving, compelled by a desperate, illogical hope. "Frostbone, please! It *is* you. Stay…" He closed the distance.
Phoenixbane tensed, coiled to strike, yet held back by the sheer, crushing weight of his longing emanating from him.
Dunce reached her. His calloused hands trembled. The proximity shattered the illusion. This woman radiated heat, a fierce core of life beneath the ice. Frostbone… Frostbone had always felt cold, through and through. Hope shriveled. Yet, without conscious thought, his instincts drove him forward. Verdant Fury pulsed like a solar flare within his dantian core (丹田). The Ensnaring Strands flowed outward again, this time emanating sheer, inescapable *yield*. Dozens, hundreds of faintly glowing yellow filaments wove a net of pure, implacable Ki force around Phoenixbane's lithe form.
She reacted with lethal grace, blades becoming a whirlwind shield. But the Strands didn't clash; they *flowed*, twisting and adhering. Her blades met yielding resistance. Momentum faltered. With terrifying efficiency, the Ki threads coiled around her arms, legs, torso – tightening, immobilizing. Phoenixbane stiffened, every muscle locked in futile resistance against the ethereal bonds.
Dunce was before her now. Tears he hadn't known he possessed welled and spilled over. His arms wrapped around her rigid form, pulling her close. Her frame felt taut as a spring trap. "Frostbone… Frostbone," he choked into her shoulder, ignoring the venom in her glare. "Tandor't leave me. Stay. Please stay."
Phoenixbane froze completely. It wasn't just the Ki. It was *him*. His embrace. The heat of his body against hers. The unfamiliar scent – sweat, dust, despair, and something fiercely masculine. Confusion warred with ingrained hatred. She'd been trained since infancy in the art of detachment, violence. Touch was pain or a tool. Nothing in the Syndicate manual covered *this*. His raw, broken grief vibrated against her, momentarily drowning the roar of her mission. Her mind blanked.
"DULL! IDIOT!" Dunce Rock's roar shattered the moment. He crashed into Dunce, tearing him away from the trapped assassin. His massive hand cracked across Dunce's face. "WAKE UP! SHE WAS GOING FOR YOUR HEART! Look at her blades! Acquirer! Syndicate! Like in the Verdant Forest! Are you TRYING to get yourself gutted?!"
The shock, the sting of the blow, fractured Dunce's focus. The intricate Ki strands binding Phoenixbane flickered and dissolved. Freed, Phoenixbane shot Rockforce Rockforce a venomous look as his lumbering grasp missed her by inches. Dodging the suddenly writhing synth-vine traps Cloud instinctively hurled via her connection to nature, Phoenixbane blurred into a streak of dark fabric and vanished among the scattered boulders and scrub brush bordering the road.
Dunce stood numb, watching the space where she'd been. An aching hollowness filled him. She wasn't Frostbone. But seeing that coldness again… it had ripped open the half-healed wound.
Dunce Rock, chest heaving with residual fury, stormed up to him. He didn't yell again, just dug roughly into Dunce's worn vest. His fingers found the smooth contour of Frostbone's carved effigy – kept sacred. He thrust it into Dunce's hands. "*That*," he growled, his voice raw with worry, "is Frostbone. That assassin? Just a knife waiting for your back."
Dunce clutched the cold, familiar shape. His fingers traced the features. The shock started to bleed away, replaced by a deeper chill – realization.
Cloud couldn't bear it. She darted forward, pulling Dunce's head down onto her shoulder. Her touch was feather-light, protective. "Enough!" she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. Her arms wrapped around him, shielding him from the lingering anger. "Can't you *see* his pain? Can't you?" Rock, stunned, met Cloud's tear-filled, defiant glare. His anger faltered, replaced by a dawning guilt.
Dunce's rigid posture crumbled. A month's worth of grief – the horror of Frostbone's death, the toxic brew of vengeance, the weight of loss and responsibility – exploded from him. Great, shuddering sobs wracked his frame. Tears soaked through Cloud's simple tunic. He pressed his face into the soft hollow of her shoulder and wept, truly wept, for the first time. The dam holding back his sorrow had finally burst under Cloud's gentle shelter.
Dunce Rock stood helpless. His brother's agony was a physical blow. He'd been so focused on the mission, on moving forward, he hadn't seen the depths Dunce was drowning in. His earlier fury was born of that terrifying fear – watching those blades flash towards Dunce. Cloud murmured soft, wordless sounds of comfort, stroking his sweat-dampened hair.
The sun climbed, then dipped, painting the desert sky in streaks of fiery orange and deep purple. Dunce's ragged breathing finally evened. Exhaustion, emotional and physical, claimed him. His powerful frame slumped against Cloud, deeply asleep in the cradle of her embrace, right there on the rough asphalt. She shifted carefully, settling onto the ground and gently guiding his head into her lap, her expression holding a fierce maternal tenderness.
Dunce Rock moved closer. That fierce tenderness on Cloud's face… it struck him like a physical blow. It mirrored Yun, his beloved, lost Yun. A place inside him he'd walled off with grief began to thaw, ache painfully. He locked eyes with Cloud. She gave a tiny shake of her head, a silent plea to let Dunce rest. Dunce Rock swallowed hard, the name 'Yun' rising unbidden to his lips. Suddenly, he understood Dunce's earlier cry. The assassin's coldness had been the flicker of a ghost, just as Cloud's gentleness brought his own ghost painfully near.
---
Phoenixbane watched from the lee of a nearby rock formation, cloaked in the encroaching twilight. She hadn't fled far. An impulse she didn't understand, didn't welcome, had drawn her back. She'd seen the tall, pale woman (Cloud) gather Dunce into her arms, holding him as he wept. The sound of those deep, broken sobs carried on the wind. They shouldn't have mattered. He was the target. Yet, they sparked an ache in her own chest she couldn't identify. The name "Frostbone"... it meant something vital to him. Seeing him so vulnerable, so utterly shattered in the arms of another... a strange, sharp pang twisted inside her. Not mission-failure anger... something else. Something colder and more disturbing. She watched Cloud cradle him long after his sobs subsided. Envy? Disgust? She recoiled from the feeling. *Focus! He's a Acquirer's mark!* She violently shook her head, as if trying to dislodge the image. Her purpose slammed back into place, sharp and hard. *He was weak now. Vulnerable.* Yet, the moment had passed. She wouldn't take him surrounded. She'd track. Wait. Her revenge demanded perfection. With one last, lingering look at the strange tableau – the fierce protector, the broken warrior in her lap – Phoenixbane ghosted away, a dark smudge vanishing into the dusk. A promise lingered in her wake.
---
Dunce awoke with a start. Comfort. Deep, profound comfort. For the first time in a month, sleep had been deep and untroubled. He became aware of soft fabric beneath his cheek, the gentle rise and fall beneath him, the faint, clean scent of growing things. He was nestled in **Cloud**'s lap. He remembered. The shame, the grief... but somehow, crucially, the crushing weight was lighter. He shifted, trying to sit up.
He'd disturbed Cloud, who had drifted into a light doze. "Dunce?" she murmured softly, her eyes opening, bright with warmth in the fading light. "You're awake."
He scrambled back, heat rising in his face. "Cloud… I… I…"
Cloud smiled, a genuine warmth softening her features. "Hush, little brother. To me, you are pure heart. A gentle soul." She moved to rise, her muscles stiff. She winced slightly, staggering a step.
Dunce was instantly at her side, a steadying hand on her arm. "Careful!" Worry etched his face. Cloud's words, her undeniable care, had cracked his shell completely. An older sister? He'd never dared hope for such closeness. "Cloud," he said, meeting her eyes, a shy determination forming within them. "I've been... lost. Thank you. Would you... would you truly be my sister?"
Tears welled in Cloud's eyes. She touched his face, his scarred cheek. "Of course," she whispered, pulling him into a tight embrace that spoke volumes. "My brother. Always." She fluttered her pale wings gently, emphasizing the bond.
Dunce leaned into the hug. It was pure comfort. Warmth, safety. No shadows of Frostbone, only gratitude. He spoke softly into her shoulder. "I swear, Sister. On my life, I will protect you. Always."
Dunce Rock watched, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his own chest. Gratitude and a flicker of something more complicated shifted his gaze between them. "Cloud," he said, his voice thick. "Thank you."
Cloud, steady now, waved a dismissive hand, blush creeping onto her cheeks. "It is you I should thank. If you hadn't found me…" She shuddered, not needing to finish the thought.
"Alright, enough sap!" Rockforce Rockforce boomed, clapping his hands together. "Mission talk later! My stomach's rattling louder than a junkbot! Mica City! Food! Now!" The pronouncement shattered the emotional tension.
---
Their journey toward Mica City felt lighter. Dunce's cautious smile, genuine if tentative, lifted Rockforce Rockforce's spirit and eased the furrow from Dunce Rock's brow. As dusk painted the horizon, the glittering spires of Mica City appeared – not medieval fortifications, but sleek synth-steel structures and floating platforms aglow with neon under the desert sky. Access ramps hummed with hover-traffic.
Just as they approached the heavily monitored city gates, Dunce stopped dead. He pulled a softly glowing object from his inner pocket – the Elf Bangle. Its intricate silver tracery pulsed with a warm, steady emerald light.
"They're here," Cloud breathed, relief and hope washing over her delicate features. "The others! We've found one!"
Dunce Rock's grim expression finally cracked into a true smile. "Looks like it. That thing's practically singing." He pointed towards the towering silhouette of a nearby structure dominating the cityscape. "We lock onto the signal, sweep this whole concrete jungle. We'll flush them out." He thumped Rockforce Rockforce's shoulder. "But first, fuel the machine. Even Acquirer-hunting requires calories."
Rockforce Rockforce grinned. "Now that's a language I understand! Can't fight on fumes." He scanned the neon-drenched skyline greedily. "I hear Mica City serves synth-steak that'll melt your fillings."
Cloud couldn't suppress a giggle. Dunce Rock rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement. "Dinner it is. Quickly. Then… we hunt."
***
The restaurant was small, tucked beneath a glowing noodle shop sign. It smelled of synth-fats and strong black beans. Rockforce Rockforce ordered with relish – a stack of synth-burgers dripping with grease, steaming synth-veg bowls, and a pitcher of sparkling synth-colonothing that *probably* passed for soda.
While waiting for the food drone, Dunce Rock leaned across the table. "Alright, intel time." He flagged down the bored-looking server dumping synth-fries onto their table. "Passing through. Heard this Marchioness Sana's the talk of the town? She the heavyweight here?"
The server, a skinny kid with piercings lining one ear, wiped a greasy hand on his apron. "Sinclaire? Oh yeah. She's the *only* game in town. Inherited everything when the old man croaked. Cyril Sinclaire? Used to be Planetary Finance Commodore over in the Core Systems? Retired here. Bought half of Mica City, then started buying the other half." He lowered his voice. "Word is… she's plugged into the Syndicate networks big time. Got connections that run straight back to Elysium Prime, maybe higher. Governor plays nice. *Real* nice. Knows where his credits come from. Her palace makes his HQ look like a prefab shack."
"Plugged in? How?" Dunce asked, genuinely puzzled by the local slang.
The kid grinned, revealing a tooth capped with chrome. "C'mon, man. Everyone knows Lady S. Runs the Shadow Markets here. Controls the ore flows, the fusion coolant pipelines… you name it. Got more zeros in her accounts than this sector has stars." He paused, realizing he'd said too much. "But hey, she keeps things running smooth, mostly. Makes her… entertaining." He dropped his voice further. "Rumor is she's got a thing. Keeps a rotating roster of pretty faces around – smooth skin, nice builds. Doesn't pay rent, they say…" He winked, then seemed to catch himself, clamming up fast.
Dunce Rock slid a chit across the table – enough credit for a week's meals. "Entertaining? How's that?"
The kid palmed the chit with practiced speed. "Look, she throws parties. Every night. Big ones. Music you can feel in your bones. Top-tier imported synth-whiskey." He leaned in conspiratorially. "They say she likes… collections. Unique things. Exotic pets, alien art… stuff that doesn't go through the official ports, y'know? Lives like an empress in that concrete palace down in the Southern Enclave. Biggest place you ever saw. Got its own force-field and armed patrols." He stood up abruptly. "More synth-fries? Good. Enjoy." He hurried off.
Dunce Rock's gaze hardened. "Exotic collections… Unique things. Pets." He looked meaningfully at Cloud. "Got a feeling that palace is our final stop tonight."
***
The Southern Enclave lived up to its reputation. Marchioness Sana's residence wasn't a palace; it was a fortress designed by a cyberpunk warlord with a taste for ostentatious wealth. Massive ten-meter walls, topped with shimmering energy fields and spiked synth-steel barriers, encircled an estate easily the size of a sports stadium. Patrolling the perimeter weren't medieval guards, but squads of heavily armored enforcers carrying sleek energy rifles. At their core stood a central citadel, three stories of sleek, reflective black synth-glass, brutalist in design, bathed in shifting hues of crimson and violet light. It rose like a dark jewel from an artificial crystalline lake that glowed an eerie blue.
An elevated hover-platform, its access road guarded by auto-turrets, was the only approach. Outside the imposing main gate sat a collection of high-end glide-cycles and a few armored luxury personnel carriers. The contrast was jarring – the brutal security perimeter against the sleek machines of the privileged.
Dunce Rock let out a low whistle. "Energy fields? Pulse rifles? Eclipses anything in Dark Province." His voice was grim. "Mica City's governor probably takes notes from *her*."
Cloud pointed to the Elf Bangle in Dunce's hand. Its light wasn't just bright; it blazed a furious, persistent emerald, so intense it seemed like molten life in his palm. The pulsing light cast stark shadows across Dunce's stern face. A familiar feeling began to smolder deep within Dunce – not grief this time, but the cold, volcanic rage he knew too well. Every face behind these walls represented torment to beings like Cloud. Corruption to be cleansed. A righteous fury whispered in his veins. *Cut down the darkness. Make the weak safe. Purge it all.*
"Dead center," Dunce Rock murmured, his eyes tracking the guard routes on a slim tactical pad. "That spire. Where else would a collector keep her most prized 'acquisitions' locked away?" He glanced at the heavily fortified entrance. "Storming the front door? Suicide. Stealth it is. With the Bangle lighting the way…" He tapped the pulsing artifact. "We find the prize, get them out quick and quiet."
Dunce's fingers tightened around the burning Bangle. Its light bathed his knuckles in green fire. Quietly, he nodded. The hunt was on.