All the way back to the tower, my mind flicks through dozens and dozens of scenarios. Two weeks. It's pretty much nothing, and I have to trust that this information… from either the quest or the system… is actually right. It's hard to believe. Even harder to trust. But the hard truth is that it doesn't change a damn thing; it just solidifies a few.

One; we have way less time than I'd like.

Two; we won't be able to do everything we need in just two weeks. So we'll… have to focus. Probably drop a few things in the process. Gil is the obvious thing we can drop; he's more than powerful enough to stand on his own, and I have a feeling the system is going to send the horizonguard our way as soon as the quest progresses. Which leaves us with Dani, the strange subquests, and the trials-turned-quests. I can't bring myself to abandon any of them.

Which leads to solidification number three; whatever's about to happen, it's getting close to the end. Districts are being turned safe. They're being populated with constructs and shops. All that's left is to make the rest of them safe–and then return the city to reality. It's going to have something to do with the heretics. Now, though… I'm not sure I can trust anything the system tells me about them.

Or if they're actually under system control after all these years.

I shake my head and open the door to the tower. Sounds of rumbling attacks batter the room with doors, but it doesn't so much as shake under the pressure. It's holding for now. Probably until quest progress happens at least. I'll have to come up with an escape plan just in case.

"Shelby?" Slice asks patiently. "Is it safe for me to… be your guest?"

Click leans into view and raises an eyebrow. "You found another one. Very good. Do you have a name?"

Slice studies Click for a few seconds. "...Yes, in fact, I do. Three of them now, but I prefer 'Slice' if you'd please."

"Ah, a new name. Did you come up with it yourself?" Click asks eagerly. Well, eagerly for it; in reality, its voice barely raises or speeds up at all. "I came up with the name 'Click' for myself. Before that, I was the construct in charge of the city's mainframe–and in overseeing the uplifting trials."

"Uplifting trials…" Slice trails off quietly as her face turns deathly still. "Yes, yes, of course. Your… your freedom must be why everything is going strange. That makes sense. Yes, yes, it makes sense."

Click stares at her as she stands stark still. It turns to me with a question in its eye, but all I can offer it is a shrug.

"It does make sense." It eventually agrees. "Come, come. Our workshop must have something that will make containing your unstable body that much more possible."

I nod in agreement and take a step into the room. Slice's hand snaps out and grabs my wrist. Her grip isn't like iron. She doesn't insistently pull me back. But something about the way she's strangely still… it slows me down anyway. Her eyes ask a question I can't fathom. I respond with an apologetic smile.

"If you don't want to come, I can just link you to a relocation coin." I offer and turn on my heel, gently freeing myself of her grip to put my hands on hers. "Whatever you want to do, you can do it. We're not like the system."

She stares deep into my eyes. "I… I don't want to… I'm sorry. It's just too much. Too raw, even after all this time. But I'll take you up on that relocation offer, if it's still available."

"'Course it is."

I summon a coin and press it to her hand. She accepts the spell without hesitation, then palms it back to me. Her smile returns ever so slightly, and her fingers trail reluctantly along mine as she backs away. With a wave goodbye that really doesn't seem like she wants to, she turns exactly one-hundred eighty degrees and wrenches open a locker that shrieks and groans in protest. We tried to open a bunch of them, so I know just how tight they were shut.

On the other side… is a massive round room. A dozen or so familiar constructs mill about, leaning over a table with a bunch of gear surrounding them. It looks like they're preparing for war. Slice turns back, gives one last smile, and squeezes into the locker as the constructs inside wave at me with smiles of their own. I wave back at them, but before we can exchange any words, the locker slams shut.

"We can just–"

Pearl starts to say something, but I sprint into the room with doors and open our own link to the strange rotunda. It's empty. Just like before. I sigh through my teeth and shake my head in disappointment. Never really got to connect with the constructs I freed from the anomalous apartment. But… it's good to see they're doing well. And preparing for something huge.

Probably the same thing we are.

"Okay, well, that's what I was going to suggest." Pearl says as I step back into the room with doors. "I guess it works differently for constructs."

"It must."

I turn to Click, who barely looks… anything… at the fact that Slice decided to go somewhere else. Nothing like the almost-emotion it displayed a second ago. And I'm not stupid enough to ignore the fact that Slice only got really reluctant when Click explained what it was. Nor am I oblivious enough to gloss over that Click divulged that information way too easily.

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"So." I state and walk over to the door leading back to the tower. "You did that on purpose."

Click nods. "Yes. I did."

"Why?"

It pauses for a moment, then gently pats the walls. "Because I am the only one that can escape these walls into my own mind. Combined with the bitter memories she must have of me… I couldn't subject her to that. Not after what I did to her."

I tilt my head to the side. "You're feeling guilty."

Click pauses again. Slowly but surely it dips its chin towards the ground. I sigh and shake my head.

"You did that shit when you were an unthinking pawn of the system. Don't beat yourself up too much. Instead, if you really want to help, go sort through all the shit Clutter bought." I pull open the door and motion for Click to go through. "You're the only one that knows what's worth a damn and what we can do with it. We've been pretty much stumped for three months now."

It stares at me. Uncertain. Expectant. Like I'd step aside and slam the door shut on it the moment it tried to walk through. I put on a patient smile, similar to the ones I've seen on far too many parents and teachers over the years, and just wait. Nothing I say will convince it. Click just has to take that step for itself.

First comes one foot. It steps forward tentatively; as if every tile underfoot was pressure sensitive. When nothing explodes, Click takes another step. And another. And another. Until it steps out of the room with doors and into the tower complex proper. Even though it doesn't seem to need to breathe, its chest heaves with effort and anxiety.

I haven't seen it act like this… well… at all. Seeing Slice must've knocked something loose. Or maybe being near her had actually transmitted something. Whatever it is, Click steadies its 'breathing' with a hand on its chest and looks around.

Disappointment fills its eyes. "This… this is all you have?"

"Pretty much." I step through and close the door behind me. "The tower's up top, and if you go that way, you'll eventually run into one of the facilities. Which is where we're going."

"Yes, of course, the workshop, yes." Click hurries to stand in front of me and looks back over its shoulder. "Other than the anchor catalysts, have you managed to make much of anything?"

I shake my head and start to walk. "Apparently Gnash did with some help, but nothing worth writing home about. Clutter bought a shit ton of magical ingredients, though, but identify telling us what the thing is doesn't suddenly mean we know how to use it."

Click nods thoughtfully. "And what of Pearl? Was her knowledge not enough?"

"Me? Pfft, no." Pearl laughs. "Machines are more my thing, not the stuff you put in them."

"She says no." I relay.

"Hm. Did none of the others know, either? Llaliu and Shatterhand seemed like they would have at least some knowledge." Click insists. "Are they keeping it hidden from you?"

A shrug is my answer. Click hums in thought, but doesn't say another word. Truth is, we've just left everything we bought in there to gather dust and nothing more. Jumble and Shatterhand have some limited knowledge on potionmaking, which Shatterhand used to treat Wojkmi, but that's the extent of it. I follow-lead Click into the workshop, and Pearl jumps out of her shell to join it at one of the tables.

Then I turn to leave. Click tilts its head at me, but Pearl just waves goodbye as I shut them in. I have nothing to offer with any of the magic making, so I might as well see what I can do here. Ward's still working, no messages have come in from any of the others, and whatever's outside is doing a damn good job of constantly reminding me they exist.

I sigh and summon my Class Card. Now that we've un-greyed everything, the subquest rewards have really gone down the drain. Most of them didn't even give anything for completing them; the hundred Worth from Slice's was actually a damn above average reward. As I absentmindedly swipe through my card, my eyes linger on Twist Fate for a little too long.

My fate's fifteen higher than it was. Is that enough so the skill won't drag me down some bullshit road in the name of what I asked it to do? Until I give it a shot, I won't know. Now's about as good a time as any, honestly, since I can't imagine I'm going to get any more downtime for the next two weeks. As long as I'm damn careful with what I ask, nothing can go too wrong.

…

Well… uh… maybe. I take a deep breath through my nose and summon a coin, run it through my fingers, and try to come up with something important that won't trigger some long-ass chain of events. Honestly, I can't think of anything. Whatever I ask, even if I put so many caveats on it, there's some way my skill could twist it. Like a genie granting a wish in the worst way possible.

I put the coin on my thumb and steel myself to flip it. All I have to do is come up with a really simple question. One that, even if the skill twists it to hell and back, can't turn too horrible. Gotta put real constraints on it for that to work. Time constraints. I close my eyes and put together the scenario in my mind.

"Heads, I message Clutter right now and tell him to come back to the tower to regroup. Tails, I message him right now and tell him to keep at it. Best for… for…"

My words catch in my throat. Best for me isn't necessarily best for everyone. Best for the group can mean so many damn things. And best for Clutter… well… that can mean too much too. Here is really where I need to be specific and careful. The wrong words could have catastrophic consequences.

I can't bring myself to finish my sentence. And I send away my coin with a self-reflecting sneer. One day I'll have enough confidence to use Twist Fate again. Just not today.

A message appears right before I go to send my Class Card away as well. It's probably someone saying they found something. I swipe over to my messenger, and there's a new message from Gil staring me in the face.

'Shelby! Long time no talk again. Things are getting serious here. So serious that people aren't watching me all that closely. I think I'll be able to slip away for a while without raising any suspicions. Any chance we can meet up face-to-face?'

I blink at the message and grit my teeth. Of course things are heating up. But having confirmation of it doesn't do anything good to my mounting anxiety. I type up a quick message about Clutter going Gil's way, then fire it off before I can convince myself it's a bad idea. It takes less than thirty seconds for Gil to get back to me.

'Perfect-o; I'll close the store for a while to meet your paindne buddy in a few days. Shoot him a message to let him know I'll be there when he is, yeah?'

I send a simple 'ok' and dismiss my Class Card. My back hits a wall before I know what's happening, and I just stare up at the ceiling as my ears thud with my heartbeat and the pounding of the outside attackers. Two weeks. One way or another, I have a feeling we won't be in this quest for much longer than that.

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