Sworded Affair

Level 17 Damned Apostle.]

Emma barely noticed the level up, in her sudden disorientation. She managed to stay on her feet after a bit of backpedalling, just a bit, to find herself in a corridor that was both familiar and not. Familiar in style and decoration, but most certainly nowhere she\'d been before. The path behind her ended in a solid wall, after all, leaving only a single door ahead.

[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 1 hour, 17 minutes.]

The System was back though, which was a relief, as was the remainder of the timer keeping her on the right side of death. The temptation was strong, to continue on without pause, but Emma forced herself to hold back, and at least consider the options available: any one of them might make a difference, when the margins were tight.

[Mankind is dreadfully prone to conspiracy, ever since the first man stuck a knife in his brother, in a time older than the spoken word. Having spent your entire life on the surface, now, you begin to see into the depths. Skill selection modified.

Select two of the following five choices.

1) Trait - Lord of Mysteries: When someone tells a lie within earshot, you will know.

2) Trait - Maker\'s Ruin: When holding a magical item, you will know the path to meet its maker.

3) Item - Portable Workbench: Includes equipment catering to crafting classes granted by the System.

4) Item - The Compensated Anarchist: A grenade with enough power to flatten a house. Single use, for obvious reasons.

5) Blueprint - Menagerie: Your simulacrums perform their role, but only to the degree you instruct them. Wouldn\'t they do better, with just a touch of independence?]

"Never mind," Emma grumbled, dismissing the list and leaving it for later. "Edith, are you back with me?"

[Yes. That was a rather violent transition, I must confess. Sectmaster Horizon really outdid himself, if even a fragment of his former self could cause such a distortion in space and time.]

What?

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

Emma had gotten quite good at schooling her body movements. Accordingly, she didn\'t startle at the mention of a man she\'d last seen many hours ago, but which Edith was seemingly talking about in the immediate term.

You\'re welcome to discuss astrophysics, but best stay away from metaphysics. I\'m safer, when I\'m not real.

Emma wasn\'t entirely sure what that final, cryptic warning had meant, but certainly, it appeared the woman she met at the End of Time was more powerful than she\'d realised.

"How long was the transition between the Sectmaster beating me black and blue, and reappearing in this corridor?" Emma asked instead, deciding to play along for the time being.

[Half a minute, give or take a few seconds, accounting for turbulence.]

"Are you sure?" Emma prompted, opening and closing her inventory screen briefly for emphasis.

[Yes, I\'m su- Wait, hold on. Where did these items come from? You\'ve gained a level as well?

Performing System Reconciliation, please wait.]

Emma wasn\'t too keen on that order, but some things couldn\'t be helped, so she patiently stood in place, allowing Edith to run a fine tooth comb over the events of the future, which she apparently was blind to.

[Now that\'s strange. I can see the System log, where each point of experience was granted, and each item was gained. I can even see the functionality of each, all of them added many years into the future with my own encryption key. But for the life of me, I can\'t see what happened, even if I know the names involved. Bah, no matter. This can be dealt with later, for now, you still need to close the gateway in the basement, before it blows a massive hole in our plans, both metaphorically and literally.]

Emma was happy enough to follow that instruction, at last stepping forward and opening the door that had taunted her since her return to Blenheim Palace. To her surprise, she wasn\'t immediately whisked away by another portal: instead, there was an ordinary stairwell, spiralling down into the distance. Not particularly far, she thought, maybe three or four floors if she was being generous. At the bottom, there was an identical door, and upon passing through, Emma found herself back where she began.

I\'ve seen this before, Emma realised. The same effect as that plot of land at The End.

[Oh, very funny, Paradox. Descend the stairs walking backwards, this time, and try not to fall over.]

That was easier said than done, but Emma gave it her best effort, taking one small step back at a time, down into the unknown.

—

"Someone\'s at the gate," Tom pointed out, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight, as he tried to make out a face, staring out through the tent flat.

"Already?" Amal Gam frowned, lounging atop the sofa he carried with him at all times, for just such an occasion. "It\'s not like a magus to be early to things. To bow so readily before the calendar of another, it\'s not proper, and carries connotations of weakness."

"Really?" Tom glanced at him, surprised. "Didn\'t an entire delegation show up hours ahead of time for that party, back down in Golders Green?"

"They were Japanese, Tom," Amal huffed. "Punctuality carries a very different meaning in the East, you should read the tale of Chen Sheng and Wu Guang sometime. Never mind that, who have we got coming to Stonehenge, almost a week in advance? Not the taxman, I hope."

"Not enough spells of imprisonment for that," Tom laughed, palming a pair of binoculars to try and get a better look.

It wasn\'t exactly cutting edge scrying, but that was the entire point; mundane solutions, used correctly, could bypass many defences geared solely to protect against magical observation.

"Not many identifying features," Tom reported. "Slim build, verging on gaunt. Traditional grey robes, with his hood down, and… Is that an oxygen mask?"

"Magus Austere."