I crumbled the prisoner intake sheet into a ball and launched it past Veigan's head.

  Rage consumed me as the obvious sliced straight through the emotional fog that had been present since the elf's disappearance. Pure hatred and surging wrath sent my mind into a tailspin. The lights flickered and Veigan gasped like he had seen something terrible in the light's brief absence.

  Chaos had played me. Black Diamond was a distraction and I had been too blind to see it. Maybe I always knew it was a long shot, perfectly satisfied with placing the blame on a tangible entity I could rip apart with my bare hands. Maybe I just didn't want to acknowledge she was gone–dead or abducted, and there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do about it.

  I waited for the frigid melancholy to set in. I stood completely still before Veigan's desk, patiently anticipating the inevitable avalanche of regret, guilt, and self-hatred to overtake me for getting her killed.

  The avalanche never came and I remained the same.

  I scratched my chin.

  Did I drink too much caffeine before I got on the lift? Could the caffeine be interacting with the neurons and receptors in my brain affecting the area responsible for regulating empathy and remorse?

  I laughed, suddenly finding my lack of humanity quite funny. Sensing the whole room's growing uneasiness, I knocked it off and recomposed myself, running both hands through my hair, re-prioritizing everything in an instant like I had mastered speedrunning the eight stages of grief.

  Finally, I broke the silence. "Take us to the medical ward."

  Without a word, the two mercenaries holding up Abraci, who had passed out from blood loss, carried him out of the room. Gustall and Brythan followed after them, while Celina stayed behind for a moment.

  "Was Gideon's name on that paper?"

  "Oh... Yeah, it was," I admitted, having completely forgotten about the bandits and their purpose.

  Celina lunged over the table and grabbed Veigan by his silk collar, shoving him up against the bookshelf. "Where is he?"

  "They took him to the Recruitment and Internal Logistics Department."

  "Recruitment? No matter what torture you put him through, Gideon will never join Black Diamond."

  "Well, when the recruitment specialist is finished ripping his fingernails off they'll ship him off to the Cellar–It's not my policy. I found a direct correlation between a prisoner's productivity and the number of fingernails they had left." Veigan squealed in fear as Celina freed her sword from its sheath.

  "He'll alert Barret if we leave him alive. Allow me to cut his throat."

  The young mage raised his hands with pleading eyes. "I swear I won't. Please-please-please..."

  He continued stringing pleases together, each one slightly softer than the last until he was silently moving his lips. Finding absolutely zero compassion from Celina, he turned his bawling baby face in my direction.

  "He's coming with us. Cut out his eyes if he steps out of line, but don't kill him."

  ***

  Black Diamond's Premium Member's Plus Health & Restoration Spa was only a five minute jog away, through three confusingly similar corridors, dashing my hopes that the Upper Tier's layout was less maze-like than the rest of this M.C Escher-esque nightmare.

  We encountered some very confused level one staffers with barely positive karma ratings on the way, along with some off-duty mercenaries, all of whom quickly went back to minding their own business when they saw Captain Veigan walking among us.

  Celina shoved the five foot four captain forward into the Premium Member's Plus lobby. His slippers squeaked across stone tile as we walked by a figure-eight fountain in the center of the lobby. A sculpture of a voluptuous nude woman posing with her arms outstretched and palms cupped toward the ceiling, holding a conch, towered over us. She stood as the fountain's borderline pornographic center piece, spitting a stream of water from her mouth.

  When the receptionist spotted Abraci's terrible condition, she rang a bell and a team of healers and assistants swarmed in, carrying him off on a stretcher.

  "Please, my hand is worse than his was," Brythan said, raising his voice. "I need immediate attention."

  "Of course, if I could just see your Premium Plus Member's card, I'll have you seen shortly," the receptionist said calmly.

  "What the fuck? He didn't show you proof of nothing," Brythan said. "Lady, I'm dying. Do you want my blood on your hands?"

  "He's a captain. You're not a captain. And if you're not a Premium Plus Member, the medical teams on the 21st floor can help you. Technically you're not permitted to be up here. Did you get lost?" the short-haired receptionist asked. "If you die here, your family will incur an extensive cleaning fee."

  "They're with me," Veigan said. "Treat them immediately."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  The short-haired receptionist almost dropped dead from a heart-attack when she saw the captain. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

  She grabbed a handful of braided twine and violently rang a heavy bronze bell hanging high above her counter. A sonorous, metallic chime swelled outward, vibrating the lobby.

  Seconds later, another medical team came bursting in through the same doors Abraci had been taken through and Brythan fell into their arms.

  "Is anyone else injured?" a healer asked.

  "I was nicked, but it's nothing I can't handle," Gustall said as he pulled back his cloak and lifted up the edge of his leather armor, revealing a nasty puncture wound on the side of his abdomen.

  When he saw the pulsing blood and torn flesh, Gustall stumbled into a male nurse's arms, consciousness fleeting.

  "Gus!" Brythan gasped, making a miraculous comeback from passing out.

  A level three healer named Potanya hovered her palm over the wound and whispered, "Respite."

  The lacerated tissue stretched, and closed the gap over his sinew, staunching the bleeding.

  "This way," she said.

  The healer directed us down another hallway, and out into an expansive infirmary outfitted with a network of recovery stations. Sturdy wooden cots lined with thick blankets, and tables stacked with vials of elixirs and bundles of fresh bandages and salves awaited us.

  I took in a whiff of the crushed herbs, and sterile ointments in the air as Gustall and Brythan were set up for treatment in neighboring stations.

  "Lina, if I don't make it..." Gustall started. "I have to tell you--"

  "Stop, you're going to be fine." She turned her gaze on the healer who was treating his wound with a finely chopped green herb. "He'll live, right?"

  "Correct," the healer said, reaching for a bandage and an elixir. "Change the bandages twice a day and apply the anti-death balm once in the morning."

  While the bandits were treated I scanned the vicinity, finding just two on duty healers. Both were level three and had between -500 and -600 karma ratings. Such ratings further ignited my suspicions of the karma system's validity. Even the handful of level one assistants were rocking negative karma in the triple digits.

  How many scumbags really dedicated their lives to helping people? The system always seemed a bit wonky, although I'd argue most of the homicidal misfits I killed were deserving of their negative ratings. Too many factions treated slavery and human trafficking like it was Aclana's national past-time. But what about those who slipped through the cracks?

  How many decent folk, just trying to put food on their tables for their loved ones, had I snuffed out?

  I closed my eyes for a second and pictured one of the mercenaries I had sliced in half with Shadow Weave. Then I imagined a detailed montage of him spending time with his wife and kids, playing with the family mutt Bruno, and roasting marshmallows over an open fire, smiling and laughing.

  Still, I felt nothing.

  Am I too far gone?

  I used to feel bad about putting scammers and rapists in the hospital. And now I was surely on pace to reach some sort of mass kill count record without so much as an inkling of ill feeling.

  "Can we sit?" Veigan asked politely, saving me from my introspection.

  He pointed at a matching set of leather lounge chairs sitting across from the treatment stations. I nodded and he plopped down, nervously tapping his foot as I took the chair across from him.

  "People tell me I have a dishonest face," he said.

  "Which people?"

  "My mother mostly." He threw his head back, pitching up his voice. "Vi-vi, you're the underhanded, duplicitous wretch I wish I never had. You lie so much your nose has gone crooked."

  "Did you lie to her?" I asked.

  "All the time. But my nose had always been crooked, she just never noticed."

  I leaned forward across the small coffee table between us. "I don't care."

  Veigan gulped, and gave a single, deliberate nod. "My point is, I may have a reputation as a scoundrel, but what I said earlier was the truth. We don't have your healer. It was never sanctioned in the contract. Only your capture and delivery to our client was included in the specifically outlined terms."

  I leaned back in the surprisingly comfortable lounge chair, stretched my arms back and kicked my feet up. "I don't want to, but I believe you."

  The young captain clasped his hands together. "What I said about being here against my own will is also true. Killing me would be a great injustice. Like drowning a litter of puppies because the mother mauled a child"

  "Yeah, what a terrible hellscape they've got you trapped in. I heard this place only has one water slide. Must be difficult to cope with," I said.

  Veigan sank back into the chair, deflated. "No amount of amenities can help me sleep at night. Well except for the Flagship Cloud mattress and pillows, those do help. Still sometimes I lay awake pondering my participation as a vital cog in an ever-expanding contraption responsible for suffering and destruction."

  I couldn't tell if he was just putting on another act or if the sincerity in his voice was genuine. Regardless, I decided to keep him alive for a while longer.

  "Excuse me, Cyprus, since we've established we aren't in possession of your healer, have you considered leaving? When Grave Digger's unit realizes you slipped by them. Him and his 121 man division will come crashing down on you and your friends. My word can't stop another captain."

  "I already told you. They're dead. Jankoh and his crew are dead. The three brothers--toast. Um, I'm sure I'm missing some."

  Veigan sucked his lips inward and nodded, bug-eyed and dejected. "Oh... I see.."

  "I came here intending on killing everyone in this tower under your banner," I said with a bloodthirsty grin. "That was until I discovered Anderhorn Spire's scale, and frankly, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

  "I'm already planning on burning our contract with Pearl Banner. I can steer Black Diamond out of your life. You've made it apparent the cost of trifling with you is one we don't wish to pay. Leave now, before the morning shift change."

  Veigan pressed his palms together and bowed his head in desperate appeal. "Let's avoid further bloodshed."

  I doubted his authenticity, considering the bold -6505 karma rating lingering in the air beside his head. Anyway, my mind was already made up.

  "I appreciate the off-ramp, but I must decline."

  "Then what do you want?"

  "Three things. Access to your vault, and the contract Pearl Banner signed for my capture."

  Veigan sank his face into his hands, covering his eyes as he let out a dreadful sigh. "I don't want to die. If I grant either request Barret will kill me. What about the third?"

  "Barret's head," I said, standing up as Karma's Gaze picked up a worthwhile target walking out of his med cubicle. "It's time your organization and the rest of Aclana learn the price of provoking me."

  I readied my dagger as I saw Arthwin stretch his legs, his arm with the missing hand was wrapped in bandages and resting in a sling. When he saw me just the other night, I was knocking on death's door thanks to him and Westcott. I couldn't wait to see the fear in his eyes when I rammed my blade into his guts.

  As I turned down the aisle, Celina blew past me, bee-lining straight at him. Personally, I wanted the kill for myself, but I didn't want to come across as greedy.

  She pulled back her hood, and lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck, then leaned in, looking like she was about to tear off a chunk of his face with her teeth. But Arthwin countered, wrapping her in his arms as he leaned into her attack.

  I almost intervened with Dagger Step, only stopping at the last second when she grabbed his rear and kissed him hard.