Chapter 27: An Invitation

  I woke up in my holding cell.

  [Loop Count: 6]

  Holy shit. Six already? Wish I remembered anything…

  “Wha – time?” I suddenly heard around me. It almost felt like an echo.

  I looked around. Neither of my two cellmates reacted.

  And then it hit me.

  Echo Sense.

  That was my voice. From the past.

  Poor Past Viktor, probably tried to figure out the time, worried about being late for the Expo’s morning assembly.

  Well, sucks to suck, Past Viktor. We’ve got bigger problems now.

  At least now I know how level one Echoes work. The description wasn’t kidding when it said they’d be unclear.

  I turned to the Inventory…

  ***

  I found a Dematerializer in the Inventory. Combined with the memory fragment, I deduced that it belonged to my mother.

  My cellmate, Harvey Leighton, noticed it in my hand.

  One thing led to another - he helped me get released sooner than I had expected.

  I made my way to Skyhaven.

  I entered the Divine, missing the morning assembly by a minute.

  I sent Trent to the third floor while I struggled to understand what I was seeing.

  The first thing that caught my eye was the number of people “Marked by Darkness”.

  Five.

  Three additional ones were marked by Temporal Trace’s orbs – by me.

  I shook my head, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

  I remembered the marked Anastasia Wright from one of the previous loops – having no idea who she was or how and where I had stumbled upon her – but she wasn’t among the five.

  Also – five? Five?!

  What the fuck? Am I supposed to investigate each and every one of them?

  That’d take hours!

  And yet…can I afford not to? What if I miss something crucial? Even if this is some trap laid by Dolos’ Champion who at this point I wasn’t even sure was Anastasia Wright anymore.

  No. Don’t poison your mind with useless information, Viktor. Think.

  Surely there’s a reason your past self left those orbs. You wouldn’t just waste all three marks without intent.

  The clue was hidden right there. I just needed to figure it out.

  Okay – set aside the five marked by Darkness. What connects the three I personally marked?

  It only took a few seconds.

  They had nothing in common. Nothing…except being first floor inventors.

  And what does that mean?

  To Viktor Halegrim? Absolutely nothing. They’re no different than the second-floor inventors. Meaning...the first floor was the reason they were marked.

  A single mark would’ve been a clue to follow that specific person.

  Two might’ve been something similar.

  But all three available? No way. I know myself – I’d never blow all my marks at once. I would always save at least one “just in case”. That was how we Orlinthers were designed – to always be ready for things to take a turn for the worse.

  Which meant…these weren’t marks in the traditional sense.

  And when I looked again at the five Darkness-marked, it clicked even further.

  These three...I planted them to overwhelm myself.

  To mirror the chaos. To show that the sheer number of marked people was the real trap.

  That was the clue: ignore it all.

  Nodding to myself, hoping I’d read my past self correctly, I headed to the third floor.

  ***

  An hour had passed since I arrived at the Divine.

  Trent and I had already set up the Chrono Quill – it never took much effort to arrange – and then I simply wandered the floor, searching for…something.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Earlier, I’d checked the skill list of the Déjà vu System and saw the sixth, previously hidden, skill: Mirror Leveling. I kept wondering if I could gather enough metals in this run to unlock it by simply staying at the Divine for Valdemar’s upcoming attack and going through it without being proactive – or if I’d need to take some careful initiative to get the loot I needed.

  And then there were the first floor's marks again.

  They kept circling in my mind. Considering their colors, they almost felt like chessboard pieces.

  Before my mind could spiral even further into metaphors, a staff member approached. Female, mid-thirties maybe. Judging by her expression, she was less than thrilled to be near us.

  “Which one of you is Viktor Halegrim?” She asked, sounding annoyed.

  I raised a hand. Trent pointed at me.

  “Great.” She said – making it sound like the opposite. Then she held out a folded note made of thick card, its edges glinting with golden trim. My full name was written across the front in elegant cursive. An additional name appeared in smaller, printed letters at the bottom left of it – Graham Stanford.

  “This is from Mr. Stanford.” She said. “The Porter Carriage that brought this awaits you at the Divine’s entrance.”

  “Wait, what?” I blinked.

  “What, what?” She snapped. “Just take the note and be honored an esteemed man like him had invited you to brunch – and on the day of the Expo, no less?” She scoffed. “If I were you, I’d keep that note hidden. Last thing you want is for the other contestants to start whispering that the entire Expo was rigged.”

  I exchanged a glance with Trent. While I was still processing, he looked excited.

  “Dude, I told you things will go your way!” He grinned, snatching the note from her hand. “Of course we’ll take the invitation – “

  “We’ll?” She interrupted. “All exhibits must be manned by the inventor or one of their registered assistants at all times. Leave it unattended and you forfeit.”

  “Fuck…” Trent muttered under his breath as the woman walked away. “I wanted to eat good food…”

  I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Why would Mr. Stanford invite me to brunch all of a sudden? I knew he liked the Chrono Quill – that much was clear – but he’d told me to find him at the Expo the moment I arrive. Instead, he doesn’t show up and sends a carriage for me?

  Something didn’t add up.

  What changed since the last time I’d met him?

  I took the note from Trent and opened it. He leaned over my shoulder to read.

  It said:

  If you’re reading this, then your plan worked.

  I hadn’t expected things to progress this fast. But…congrats, I guess.

  If you want to learn more about Dolos – or me – take the Porter Carriage I sent for you.

  ***

  “What a weird fucking note.” Trent muttered as he walked beside me down the staircase. “And who the fuck is Dolos?”

  My head felt like it was about to explode. I couldn’t answer. Could barely even hear him, honestly.

  Out of all the possible suspects – the marked people I had considered, and those that hadn’t even crossed my mind yet – Mr. Stanford from the CMA was the other looper?!

  That didn’t sit right. But then again…Stanford was the reason I was even here today. The only one on the committee who insisted that the Chrono Quill would be included in the Expo’s lineup.

  So…could it all have been orchestrated by him from the start?

  I thought both Champions were chosen today. I mean – five loops ago today. But the committee reviewed the entries weeks ago. Was it possible Stanford had been chosen long before me? What did he even gain by bringing me to the Divine?

  And if that were true, was he…Valdemar?

  No. That didn’t make sense.

  But did I even know anything genuine about Stanford to rule it out?

  Not even close.

  Once we stepped outside, I spotted it immediately. The carriage – the only one waiting. It was unmistakably mine.

  A curved, narrow cabin of burnished brass stood on two large wheels. It was big enough to carry only a single passenger. The sides were open, while above, a brass plate provided a roof.

  At its front stood an automaton – humanoid and bipedal. It was tall, wide, with a COG identification screen on its back beneath an unfamiliar logo. It was clutching the reins connected to the carriage’s axle. It was more for appearance than actual control. The thing had a set command route, after all.

  Trent whistled. “Damn. We never see these in Orlinth. It looks expensive.”

  I nodded, eyeing the carriage with hesitation.

  Trent nudged me with a hand on my back. “Well, what are you waiting for? This Stanford guy probably wants to tell you you’ve won. A bit unsportsmanlike, but as long as we’re the ones benefiting from it for a change, I don’t mind.”

  Oh, if it were that simple, Trent…

  Wait, did this happen in past loops? I had to make sure.

  I mentally selected one of my new skills – Afterimage.

  [There is no afterimage to run in this area]

  Hm? No afterimage?

  Okay...So I never did what I was about to do now…

  Cautiously, I stepped into the carriage and reached my COG for a scan.

  A soft chime. A green screen.

  “Welcome, Viktor Halegrim.” Came a warped voice from a phonotube-like device mounted on the automaton’s neck. “Destination: Halden Heights, 2nd Promenade, House 42 – Residence of Mr. Graham Stanford.”

  The automaton’s pistons hissed, and the carriage gave a small lurch before accelerating. Slowly at first, then all at once – it began to run.

  “Good luck!” Trent called after me, his voice quickly swallowed by the wind.

  ***

  The carriage weaved through the mostly empty roads of Skyhaven.

  Every now and then, another Porter Carriage passed us by, its passengers dressed far nicer and fitting of the area than I was.

  As we reached a residential neighborhood – Halden Heights, according to the signs – Skyhaven grew even quieter. The already sparse crowds disappeared entirely, replaced by the occasional jogger or an elderly couple. There were barely any Ironwatch Enforcers in sight. And the only automatons I saw were the service kind, tending to the neatly trimmed trees lining the streets.

  The houses were tall and symmetrical, lined up close to each other. They were built from smooth, colorful stone reinforced with polished wood and metal trim. Their glasswork was immaculate as well – every window pristine, not a smudge or yellowed pane in sight. A far cry from Orlinth, where almost every window looked like it was dipped in soot and grime.

  The carriage came to a stop in front of one of the houses.

  It stood three stories tall. Vines curled along its stone base, and a wide wooden door with a heavy metal ring-knocker loomed ahead. The large windows were sealed by drawn curtains.

  Stanford doesn’t like sunlight or something? That’s wild. If I lived in Skyhaven, they’d have to pay me to stay indoors.

  Above the door, an engraved plaque read: 42 – Stanford Family.

  “You’ve arrived at your destination.” The automaton creaked. “We hope you had a pleasant ride, and thank you for choosing Gallagher Transportation.”

  The carriage let out a final hiss, then went still.

  I stepped out carefully, keeping my eyes on the door.

  The moment I was clear, the automaton resumed its movement, and the carriage rolled away.

  “Yo! Wait!” I called after it, but it was already gaining speed, disappearing further ahead.

  “What the fuck…” I muttered.

  And then the realization set in – this was always a one-way ride.

  I swallowed hard and approached the door.

  Let’s see who Mr. Stanford really is.

  I took a deep breath, reached for the metal ring, and knocked twice.

  No answer.

  I waited a few seconds, then knocked again.

  Still nothing.

  Surely, Stanford was rich enough to have servants – both human and machine. There was no way the house was empty.

  My eyes drifted down toward the keyhole.

  And immediately, my mind flashed to the Bronze Key in my Inventory.

  This morning, when I went over the Inventory's contents, I’d assumed the key was meant for something expensive as it was made of bronze of all things. And now, standing at this fancy house’s door, holding the note from Dolos’ supposed Champion…could this be it?

  I hesitated.

  Then, I summoned the Bronze Key.

  Slowly, almost unwillingly, I brought it to the lock.

  Part of me hoped it wouldn’t fit. Because if it did, then it meant I’d somehow obtained this key in a previous loop without ever reaching this place – if Afterimage was anything to go by.

  Then, I froze.

  The key slid in cleanly.

  My chest tightened.

  With a soft click, a single turn of the key unlocked the door.

  And it opened.