Chapter 94: On the Way (I)

  ***

  Valdemar made his move at 17:45.

  Despite my fears, Casten Vorrick acted like he didn’t know me.

  Assuming that was what I’d done in the original timeline, I joined the party Vorrick led.

  We all died.

  Loop 36 played out similarly.

  ***

  [Loop Count: 37]

  [Déjà vu System: Level 22]

  [Civic Omni-Gear System: Level 25]

  I woke up on the metallic bench in my holding cell.

  Immediately, I watched the Memory Fragments and Vestiges.

  And, for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why my past selves wanted us to go to the Foundry.

  I remembered my last conversation with Chronos. I remembered the plan—three normal loops in Skyhaven, then the Foundry.

  I even noticed the Writ of Passage sitting in the Inventory—Casten Vorrick’s, of all people—so the means of getting there were already settled as well.

  But, still…I couldn’t grasp why I needed to go.

  Not only was the Foundry the most neglected level in all of Solvane—lacking even some of the most basic civic infrastructure—but the air quality was so catastrophically poor that most of its residents didn’t live past forty.

  And that was before factoring in the Parasite.

  The impercetible virus that thrived in the arid lands of the Wastelands around was carried by strong winds, periodically reaching the Foundry itself and infecting its population. Once contacted, and given enough exposure and lack of immediate treatment, it killed in eight hours, burning the lungs from the inside out.

  Over the centuries, countless inventors from Orlinth had developed filtration systems to somewhat combat its movement through the Foundry's air. None were fully effective. Tens of thousands of Foundry residents still succumbed to the Parasite every year.

  The very idea of going there willingly was unsettling.

  Was it just for the tungsten and upgrades? Was I that desperate to upgrade my COG?!

  If I was already going to expose myself to the Parasite, shouldn’t I be aiming much higher?

  Something like…Novus.

  The hidden city in the Wastelands—the one I’d seen in the Vestige.

  Now, I couldn't tell what I'd be searching for once I'd get there, and there was no reason to believe Valdemar would be there. But at the same time, wouldn’t reaching Novus give me an actual advantage? Something I could learn—something I could use against him? Something that would stop him?

  The only problem was getting to the Wastelands in the first place.

  Only the Obsidian Crows were allowed to leave Solvane’s borders. Only the Aetherguard Mark III could fully withstand the Parasite. Unless, of course, the Parasite in the Wastelands was a hoax—a possibility, considering what I'd seen in Vestige #2, but not a certainty.

  Even if I managed to leave somehow—doubtful, but let’s say it happens—how do I even find the city? It was inside a damn cave in the middle of nowhere!

  And even if I managed to find it—again, doubtful, but let’s say that happens as well—will I not succumb to the Parasite before I find anything useful? I didn’t have an Aetherguard Mark III to protect me!

  And yet, If I got there, if I managed to stay healthy getting there, I might discover something that would overshadow everything my past selves had learned so far—a tall order, but something that was definitely worth striving for.

  ***

  I was released at noon.

  Going over the rest of the items in the Inventory, I found Zee and the “broken” photograph I recalled from my conversations with Dolos.

  Conveniently, got a message signed off by “V” explaining the concept of Aetherprints—confirmed to be truthful by Déjà vu.

  Connecting it with the bits I remembered from my conversation with Dolos, I knew what I had to do next.

  ***

  With the image of the soldier from Memory Fragment #1 crystalizing still weighing heavily on my mind, I focused on the Aetherprints written on the back of my mother’s photograph.

  LH-150344 for Wesley Slater, and LH-534623 for Riven Duran.

  Based on that Vestige, both identities—at least on paper—belonged to the same person: Valdemar’s lieutenant, a former Obsidian Crow once held in high regard by Casten Vorrick himself.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  I’d already noticed something unusual in my COG’s interface. A new extension that led me into a red display and demanded an Aetherprint input to proceed.

  I knew that was what Valdemar wanted—that was why he sent me that research—but what else could I do?

  With Déjà vu guiding the way, I entered the first sequence.

  A second later, Wesley Slater’s location appeared on a map on my display.

  He was here. In Orlinth.

  Even worse—or better—he was only minutes away, stationed in the West-Central Cargo Dock.

  “What the fuck…” I muttered.

  That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  I entered the second Aetherprint.

  Wesley’s marker vanished, replaced by Riven Duran’s—this one deep in the southernmost parts of the platform. One of Orlinth’s most expensive areas—unlike most of the platform, it actually received sunlight.

  I let out a slow breath.

  From a purely logical standpoint—if I understood the research correctly—it made sense that even if he now went by Riven Duran, it was Wesley Slater’s Aetherprint I should follow if I wanted to find him.

  And yet…

  Given that he’d once been an Obsidian Crow—and a Skyhavener—wouldn’t the most luxurious district Orlinth could offer suit him better?

  I stopped that train of thought immediately.

  The man I’d seen in the Vestige wasn’t someone who chased comfort. Or indulgence.

  No…Wesley Slater had looked Casten Vorrick in the eye and been willing to die for what he believed was right.

  If there was anyone in Libra I could actually reason with, it was him.

  He was my chance to stop Valdemar.

  If I could convince him that Valdemar’s ambitions will bring forth the end of our world, I could get him on my side. Then, I just might turn Libra against itself.

  After that, the matter of the crystals would still remain. But I needed to look at everything from a practical point of view: first, save the world. Then, overthrow the oligarchs. Optimally, combine the two.

  Concluding that Riven Duran was most likely just a stolen—or borrowed—identity of someone living his life in southernmost Orlinth, I entered Wesley Slater’s Aetherprint once more and set off toward the cargo dock.

  As I made my way there, I came across a placard of Valdemar punching through the Skyhaven platform.

  For some reason, I felt like his mask’s glowing red eyes were fixed on me specifically.

  ***

  I arrived at the West-Central Cargo Dock—a wide clearing surrounded by large, brass-and-iron warehouses stacked high with cargo crates.

  Three cargo airships were docked on raised platform, loaded by the dockworkers who used their Kinetras.

  Next to them, an Ironwatch Enforcer wearing a Mark I Aetherguard Suit and an Immigration Inspection badge stood typing into his COG.

  The scar on his right cheek was enough for me to recognize him.

  Riven—Wesley—whatever his name was.

  In my head, I’d already finalized my plan for when he came to greet me.

  Because, really, he was definitely going to come greet me.

  First, Valdemar sent me the damn research about the Aetherprint. And then, again, his lieutenant was stationed literally twenty minutes from the station where I spent the night.

  That wasn’t a coincidence. That was orchestration.

  Which meant Wesley Slater would surely walk up to me and say something along the lines of “I was waiting for you.”

  If that was the case—and it absolutely was—I was ready.

  I joined the line with a grin.

  Two people stood ahead of me, chatting animatedly—friends traveling together to Skyhaven, from the sound of it. I mostly ignored them, my eyes fixed on Wesley, waiting.

  He met my gaze.

  Then, he smiled.

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen,” he said to the two men ahead of me, “but this one gets priority.”

  They turned toward me, confused and irritated.

  “What gives?!” they demanded in unison.

  “Don’t worry,” Wesley replied smoothly. “He’s headed to the Foundry. Not your ship either way.”

  “Oh.” One of them waved me forward. “Go ahead, then.”

  I stepped out of line, smiling as Wesley approached.

  I couldn’t remember him outside of the Vestige and Memory Fragment, and yet I had a feeling we already talked a lot during previous loops.

  “Took you long enough, Mr. Halegrim,” he said, grinning.

  Almost like what I predicted...

  I kept my smile and struck first. “Yeah. Honestly, not my fault, Mr. … Slater.”

  His grin faltered for a second before returning, wider than before.

  To my surprise, he laughed and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

  “Well, look at you,” he said. “So informed.” He gestured toward the airships. “Well, what do you say we get you aboard the first cargo transport to the Foundry?”

  The fact he was set on sending me to the Foundry was enough for me to suspect that my planned journey to the Foundry was somehow influenced by Valdemar some loops ago.

  Still, I couldn't back down.

  “Hm.” I rubbed my chin theatrically, forcing confidence into my words and posture as I tried to shake his off—the key to my plan. “Tempting. But I’ve got a better idea.”

  “A better one?” he asked, still smiling.

  I patted his shoulder in return. “How about you take me to Novus?”

  His smile vanished instantly.

  Behind me, the two men whispered, “Novus? Where's that?”

  I leaned in before Wesley could respond. “Bet Valdemar didn’t prep you for that one.”

  But in response, he…chuckled.

  Then he laughed—full, genuine laughter—prompting the men behind me to exchange confused glances.

  For a moment, I thought I’d failed.

  And maybe, in a way, I had…

  Wesley motioned for me to follow him, guiding me away from the line.

  “No,” he said once we were out of earshot, laughter subsiding. “He actually told me you might say that.”

  “Bullshit,” I replied immediately, not buying it.

  “No, no. Really,” Wesley insisted calmly. “You may not believe me, but he knew you’d aim for Novus first.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he raised a hand and cleared his throat loudly, cutting me off.

  “Either way,” he continued, “you do realize how complicated it would be to get you to Novus, right? You can’t just decide to go there on a whim.”

  “Well, I’ve only got today,” I said, watching his reaction to gauge how much he knew about the time loop—if at all.

  “Yeah…” he replied, and that alone confirmed my suspicions. He shook his head. “And even then, it’s not simple. I’m not saying you won’t ever get there. When Valdemar decides it’s time, he’ll arrange it. But for now, he wants you no further than the Foundry. And that’s where you should go.”

  “And what if I say no?” I asked, still part of my plan.

  “Then I won’t force you,” Wesley said with a shrug. “You’re free to choose.” He smiled again. “Listen, you seem to misunderstand something.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Well, for starters, you think Valdemar needs you or something,” he said almost immediately. “He doesn’t. Of course, he’d prefer to have you on board at least because you’re your mother’s son, but…he has his plans—layers of them. Fuck, even I don’t know or understand half of them. But whether you comply or not doesn’t change anything.”

  “Sounds like a lot of plans,” I bit back.

  He ignored my remark. “Short version, Viktor: if you go to the Foundry, it was part of his plan. If you don’t, that was also part of his plan.”

  I laughed. “Do you even hear how insane and stupid that sounds? Preparing contingencies doesn’t mean every outcome is part of the plan. It just means he’s ready. That’s it. Stop worshipping him. He’s just a man.”

  Wesley shrugged. “Sounds like semantics to me.” He pointed toward one of the airships. “If you go to the Foundry, I’ll be joining you. You’ll get some quality time with me—maybe even learn a thing or two.”

  Then he gestured to the line.

  “If not, that’s fine too. Just decide now. I’ve got people waiting.”

  I hesitated.

  My plan wasn’t working. I couldn’t shake him—not with the knowledge I had. It felt like he was already prepared for everything I did know.

  And I couldn’t reach Novus without him. That much was undeniable.

  So if he refused to take me there, what other path was left?

  I needed to make him. To force his hand.

  And for that, I needed to buy time—to play along, for now.

  “Fine,” I said at last, exhaling softly. “Let’s go to the Foundry.”

  Wesley smiled. “Perfect.”

  He gave me a firm pat on the back as he led the way toward the nearest airship. “Just show the dockworkers your Writ of Passage,” he said casually. “And we’ll be on our way.”

  I smiled back to keep my confident fa?ade going, but inside? I was at a loss.

  How did he know about the Writ of Passage?