Farren Rhane hadn’t expected the doors to be quite so huge. He’d assumed they’d be on the larger side, given the enormity of the rest of the old courthouse ruins, but this was just silly. They stood nearly thrice his height, finely detailed with copper etchings of the moon and stars and braced within a frame of interlacing Angelic motifs. Weirdly, all the delicate detailing only made them look heavier. Regardless, Rhane limbered up his arms and planted his hands against the two enormous slabs. He summoned his strength and began to push with everything he had. Hiding his exertion, he did his best to stay focused, ignoring the constant shuttering of the camera behind him. No matter what, he needed to make this look good—the eyes of the Empire were on him, after all.

  To Rhane’s great relief, the doors actually moved; their rusted hinges brayed loudly as they crept open, splashes of dust falling from the frame above. Heaving harder, he slowly widened the gap. Suddenly, a loud crunch emitted from the other side of the doors. They ground to a halt, refusing to budge any further.

  Something had jammed them up good.

  Rhane took a step back, feigning an undaunted expression. Somehow, this would all look like part of the plan. Or better yet, maybe the marketing department would cut this moment out entirely. Valiantly pressing on, he peeked through the narrow crack between the doors, searching for the cause of the blockage. He quickly found the culprit. Wedged into and around the bottom of the doors were the jumbled skeletal remains of what looked like several court guards. Rhane pursed his lips—those skeletons were mashed in there good. Nevertheless, he measured the gap with his eyes, determining that it was just barely wide enough for him to squeeze through. Making himself as thin as possible, he began to shimmy through the crack, his gear scraping lightly against the copper.

  After a brief struggle, Rhane popped through to the other side. He dusted himself off, inspecting his custom fur-lined leather jacket and gleaming armor for any visible scuffs or damage. Happily, his precious coat remained unscathed. Slinging his short cape back over his shoulder, he polished the badge sewn into the upper arm of his coat, featuring the V-shaped logo of Verloren Industries embossed in vibrant silver. According to his producer, it was critical to the mission that his company badge was prominently displayed at all times.

  Satisfied with his dirtlessness, Rhane set his sights on the expansive room before him. The courthouse’s judicial chamber was a lofty, elongated space, more than worthy of such an excessive door. Its high walls cascaded into an abyssal pit, trailing down to an unseen floor far below. A narrow stone walkway was built precariously across the void, bridging the space between the doors and a grand judicial bench at the far end. Balconies stuffed with rows of half-rotted seats lined the walls like some kind of perverse theater, while a series of massive multicolored banners, adorned with the crests of great houses long diminished, swayed listlessly from the rafters overhead.

  High above, a sizable chunk of the ceiling was outright missing, collapsed long ago by the elements. The cave-in had fallen onto the walkway, taking a big bite out of the path, leaving only a thin tether of brick barely holding its two halves together. Light poured through the hole in the roof, illuminating the chamber in streaks of hazy daylight.

  Rhane studied the chamber, admiring its audacious, intimidating layout and the dramatic quality of the lighting. It was all going to look great in the photos. Inching over to the walkway’s edge, he gazed down into the black void beneath him. Curious, he kicked a loose stone off the platform and watched it fall into darkness. A gentle smack echoed out several seconds later.

  Rhane whistled to himself. “That’s a nice pit…” he mused.

  “Hey, Rhane?” croaked a voice from the door.

  “Yeah, it’s a real statement, isn’t it?”

  “No, can I—mph—get a hand?”

  “Hm? What’s that?” Rhane swiveled around.

  Stuck between the gap in the doors was his photographer for the mission: a potato-shaped man plastered in pockets, a nubby box camera dangling from his neck. He strained against the copper slabs, his wriggling only making his situation worse.

  “Oh!” Rhane exclaimed, rushing over to assist his comrade. “Sorry, Merel. Let me get that for you.” Kicking away the obstructive skeletons, Rhane wrapped his hands around the edge of the door and pulled. Gradually he hauled the gap wider.

  Coming unstuck, the photographer flopped through the doorway and onto the floor, kicking up a puff of dirt. Rhane promptly helped Merel back to his feet, dusting him off as he checked over the integrity of his camera.

  “There ya go, bud,” said Rhane, slapping the last of the grime from the ‘Associate Marketer’ rank patch sewn into Merel’s sleeve.

  Merel pushed him away and stepped deeper into the space, studying the yawning pit beneath him. “Strange setup they had here,” he said, nodding to himself confidently. “The press are gonna love this. Let’s get a wide of the room.”

  “On it.” Rhane took his cue and strode over to a picturesque spot on the walkway, the perfect position to capture the grandeur of the chamber. As Merel moved to line up the shot, Rhane threw one leg on top of a rock and thrust his arm triumphantly into the air. “Behold!” he pontificated, “The high court of old… Saruleah?—No, what was it again?”

  “Egaelleah.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” Rhane chuckled, snapping his fingers. “I always get the old-world states mixed up.”

  “It happens,” said the photographer from behind his clacking camera. “Let’s get a couple more over here.” He pointed to a spot further down the bridge. “Pretend the room is the most incredible sight you ever saw.”

  “Big time dazzled. Got it.” Rhane trotted to his new mark and snapped to an exaggeratedly awestruck pose. “How’s this?” he asked, his mouth wide open.

  “Too amazed.”

  Rhane dialed back his wonderment by about twenty percent.

  “Right there. Perfect.” Merel took a fresh round of photos. “Yeah, this one’s gonna be a hit, I can tell.”

  A hit story. Rhane tried not to look too pleased at the prospect, but he had a hard time helping it. He was almost there—the big leagues. People were beginning to pay attention, people outside the adventuring industry. If he could just pull this mission off without a hitch, then he’d be on his way to the top, he could feel it.

  Photos taken, Rhane loosened himself up. He began for the judicial bench at the far side of the room, keeping his eye on the prize. “Well, let’s get to it,” he called. “We shouldn’t keep the old emperor waiting!”

  The two men made their way down the lengthy walkway. As they approached its half-collapsed middle portion, Rhane stuck out his hand, signaling his comrade to stop. Cautiously, he crept forward and slapped his foot on the slender sliver of brick, testing its integrity. Streaks of dust were loosened by his tapping, but otherwise the beam seemed to hold together.

  “Maybe you should grab onto me, just in case,” Rhane said to Merel, offering out his arm as he inched his foot onto the strip.

  The photographer stepped just out of reach. “Sorry, gotta document this,” he said, sounding not especially sorry about it. “If you fall to your death, then the public needs to know about it.”

  “Right. Gotcha…” Rhane lightly sighed. The employee handbook did make it very clear: his spectacular demise would sell just as well as his triumph, and the company always came first. Still, he tried not to let it bother him—if things went sideways, he would just figure something out. He always had before.

  Boldly, Rhane took a large step forward, placing all of his weight onto the stone beam. It held firm, much to his relief. Throwing his arms out for balance, he carried on ahead, tottering across the chasm. Loose brick crunched and shifted beneath him, while the snaps and clicks of Merel’s camera accompanied his every motion.

  Arriving safely at the other side, Rhane swiveled around and beckoned his comrade to follow. “You coming?”

  Merel timidly peered down into the pit. “I’m fine right here,” he replied.

  “You sure?” said Rhane, planting his hands on his hips. “How you gonna get any good shots from way over there?”

  “I brought a long lens.”

  Rhane’s lips tightened. “Alright, it’s your choice,” he puffed. “But I wonder what the producer’s gonna think when she doesn’t get any close-ups…”

  The photographer let out a grumble. Squirming there, he raised his eyes and muttered a quick prayer before finally launching himself across the narrow stretch of stone. He dashed ahead, gaze fixed forward, doing his best to avoid looking down at all costs.

  As Merel trotted along, a single brick dislodged itself under his weight. Spooked by the rattle of the falling stone, he instantly quickened his pace. He hustled across the rest of the beam and hurled himself onto the other side, exhaling deeply as his feet touched down on the solid stone of the platform.

  “See?” said Rhane, giving him a firm, congratulatory slap on the shoulder. “Easy peasy.”

  Merel shrugged him off, murmuring grouchily.

  Continuing on, the pair approached the end of the platform, and the grand judicial bench lording over it. As they moved in closer, a grisly scene came into sharp focus.

  “…Yikes,” Rhane grimaced.

  Pinned upright against the extravagant bench was a skeletal corpse, dressed in tattered regal garb, nailed into the wood by a dozen lavish swords. Atop its head rested a magnificent crown wreathed in silver and sapphires, held squarely in place by a knife stabbed through a loop in the metal and into the body’s skull.

  Rhane buried his disgust and inspected the corpse, nodding with feigned studiousness. “Ah, and here he is. Imperator Artis Egaelleah the Last.”

  “Egaelles.”

  “Sure. Looks like the court gave him a bad judgment, eh?” Rhane grinned and elbowed Merel in the ribs, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. The photographer didn’t even smirk, much to Rhane’s dismay.

  Shrugging it off, Rhane moved in towards the corpse. “Alright, let’s grab what we came for… Just the crown, right?”

  “Pretty sure that’s what the Director said…” replied Merel. He promptly removed a copy of the orders from one of his many pockets and gave it a quick once-over. “…Yeah, only the crown.”

  “Great,” said Rhane, snapping his fingers. “I’m on the case!” If Director Vogel wanted just the crown, then that’s what he'd get her. The fact that she was even giving him this opportunity—letting him spearhead an acquisition of this importance—it was a big deal, to say the least.

  Rhane drew a breath and stepped in closer to the body. Carefully maneuvering between the plethora of rusted blades, he gently reached in to extract the artifact from the old monarch’s withered skull.

  “Hold it there for a sec,” called Merel.

  Rhane immediately froze, posing between the swords, awkwardly balancing himself on his toes. He listened as Merel’s camera rapidly snapped. The longer he stood there, the harder it was to ignore the corpse's musky foulness.

  “…Can I move?” asked Rhane after a time, his arms starting to cramp.

  “Just a few more.” Merel shuffled around the scene, covering every conceivable angle. After taking what felt like an album’s worth of photos, he finally stood and gave Rhane a satisfied thumbs up. “We’re good.”

  Shaking himself loose, Rhane carried on with the job. Carefully, he wrapped his hand around the knife pinning the crown into the corpse’s head. After giving it a few good tugs, the blade dislodged, accompanied by the horrible scraping sound of steel sawing against bone. With the precious relic freed, Rhane plucked it from the body without issue.

  Stepping away from the corpse, Rhane’s excitement slowly began to decay. After all that buildup, it was hard not to feel just a little disappointed.

  “…Did that look too easy?” Rhane asked, scratching his beard. “I feel like it’s gonna look too easy.”

  Merel shrugged. “We’ll embellish.”

  Would that be enough? Rhane pursed his lips. After years of taking on every dangerous job nobody wanted to do, climbing his way up the Junior Agent ranks in record time, he’d finally been given this one chance to do something big. But so far it’d been a total walk in the park. There was almost nothing to it—no spectacle, no surprise… no story at all. If he didn’t make a splash with this one, would he ever get the chance again?

  Rhane let out a sigh—at the end of the day, all he could do was hope for the best. “Alright, let’s get out of here…” he mumbled. At once, he and his comrade made their way back down the walkway, leaving the ghastly scene without a second look.

  After taking only a few steps, Rhane suddenly heard a beastly grumble emerge from behind the judicial bench. Something there began to stir. A sickening, rasping growl swelled louder, followed by the crunching of claws climbing their way over the top of the wood.

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

  Rhane and Merel instantly tensed. They swiveled to face the snarls.

  Heaving itself over the bench was a wolfish mass of knotted bark and bone, with thick, taloned paws and a mane of leafy vines tailing down its crooked spine. It glared at the two men with a trio of bloodshot eyes and grotesquely snarled, revealing a thicket of chipped and yellowed fangs.

  Seeing the Unbound, Rhane let out a grin. “Ah, now we’re talking! …Oh, wait.” His smile slowly flattened as he realized the very real danger they now faced.

  “Ah, do something!” Merel cried. “Shoot it! Shoot it!” Sticking to company protocol, he scrambled a safe distance behind Rhane while keeping his camera pointed at the action at all times.

  The creature leapt from the bench, landing on the platform below with a putrid smack. Rhane planted his feet and drew his revolver from its holster. Posing for the camera, he fired a volley of shots into the beast, making sure not to hit the same spot twice. The Unbound shrieked as blood burst from its neck and chest. Collapsing to the ground, it breathed out a quiet, sickly rattle before falling still.

  “…Did you see that?!” Rhane exclaimed after a beat. He watched over the creature as Merel snapped a fresh batch of photos. “That’ll give the story a bit more excitement, eh?”

  The Unbound’s leg abruptly jerked, twitching violently.

  Rhane remained mostly unfazed. “Don’t worry, just a spasm. That can happen sometimes.”

  “You did hit the heart, right?” asked Merel.

  Rhane shrugged. “I mean, yeah, probably. Otherwise it would still be movi—ah, crap.”

  The Unbound stirred back to consciousness, moaning faintly. It swung its palms onto the ground, creaking with the sounds of snapping wood as it groggily labored back onto its feet. Little by little, its wounds began to scab and heal.

  “Okay, uh,” Rhane grimaced, forming a fast plan. He shot a glance at the photographer behind him. “Go, get out of here! I'll cover you!”

  Merel didn’t need to be told twice. He snapped one last photo before spinning around and bolting back down the walkway.

  Rhane backpedaled, leveling his gun at the creature. Wherever this one’s heart was, he didn’t have time or ammo to go looking for it. But if he could hit the beast just so, it might just buy them enough time to get away.

  The Unbound stood upright and screamed, lunging towards Rhane in a rabid frenzy. Rhane squeezed the trigger. Blam!—The pistol threw out a plume of fire, driving a bullet straight into the creature’s skull. The beast staggered, stunned, thrown off balance by the blinding pain of the slug lodged in its head.

  Rhane exhaled, briefly relieved. He turned to flee before the dazed creature could recover again.

  Merel ran full force onto the sliver of damaged walkway, his feet violently shaking the stone. Jostled with every heavy footstep, the bricks began to come apart. Finally, they couldn’t take any more. The stone gave way completely, crumbling into the pit.

  With a thunderous rumble, the entire walkway began to collapse like a row of dominos, no longer able to support itself. The wave of destruction rippled down the length of the platform, nipping at Merel’s heels.

  Feeling the vibrations of the cascade behind him, the photographer quickened his pace. He sprinted towards the doorway at the room’s entrance as chunks of rock careened into the darkened pit below. Reaching the end of the walkway, he dove the final few feet, barely making it onto solid stone before the platform concluded its collapse.

  Grimacing, Rhane watched his one exit crumble away. He hastened to stop, only for his boots to skid over the dust-covered bricks. Sliding straight for the precipice, he flailed his arms, trying to slow himself. Finally, the soles of his shoes found a grip, grinding him to a halt mere inches from the newly formed edge.

  As he regained his balance, Rhane heard a horrible snarl bellow from behind him. The Unbound had shaken itself from its daze. He spun around to face it, less than thrilled to be suddenly trapped in this very perilous position.

  Flexing its tendinous flesh, the beast sprang towards Rhane. He rushed to fire off a hasty shot. The creature was on him before he even had a chance. It thrust out a gnarled claw, knocking the revolver from his hand and sending it sailing into the chasm.

  “Hey!” blurted Rhane—that gun was a gift!

  The Unbound lurched, throwing itself on top of him. Reacting fast, he shoved out his hands, catching the creature by its ribs. Struggling under the weight of the beast, Rhane’s legs buckled. He collapsed to the ground with a hefty thud.

  As he hit the floor, the crown flew out of his hand and tumbled across the brick. It rolled and wobbled before coming to a precarious rest, its base straddling on the platform’s very edge.

  Rhane glanced towards the crown in a panic. He watched his prize teeter on the brink, all the while struggling to keep the Unbound’s gnashing jaws from eating his skin.

  “Merel! A—a little help!” he cried out. His fearful call was answered by the sounds of a camera shutter and the pulsing of a flashbulb. Creaking his head back, Rhane was just able to spot the photographer at the doors, taking a slew of photos with a long lens. “M—Merel!” he shouted again.

  “You’re Farren Rhane. You got this!” Merel hollered back as he swiftly changed out his roll of film.

  “Thanks… for believing… in me!” Rhane grunted, barely holding the thrashing Unbound at bay.

  “Come on, what’s the producer gonna think if you can’t handle one little Unbound?!”

  Merel’s words struck a nerve. If Rhane gave up, if he let someone save him, then that would be the end of it. All those sacrifices, all those long days and toil and sweat and blood, they would all be for nothing, and he would be back where he started—unknown, unloved. A nobody. Well, Rhane wasn’t about to let some malformed quasi-animal ruin this for him. Not today! Tensing his muscles, he tapped into the last reserves of his strength.

  “Get… OFF!” With a burst of energy, Rhane hurled the Unbound off of him. The beast fell to one side, its hind legs sliding over the edge of the walkway. It shrieked and scrambled, nearly slipping off the platform. Frantically, it stuck its claws into the brick, fighting to pull itself back up.

  Free again, Rhane shot his gaze towards the crown. It was tipping over the platform’s edge, a second away from plunging into the void and taking his whole career with it. Reacting fast, he dove towards the precipice, throwing out his arm just as the relic slipped over the side.

  Rhane wrapped his fingers around the crown’s silver swirls, snatching it out of the air.

  “Gotcha!” he cried. Prize firmly in hand, he sprang back onto his feet.

  Swinging his head around, Rhane desperately searched for a new escape route. He tracked the walkway down to the judicial bench, and from there raised his sights to the row of banners spanning the room like a series of ropes. A very stupid idea suddenly came to him. Suppressing his doubts, he dashed off towards the bench, narrowly dodging a swipe from the Unbound as it finished pulling itself back onto the platform.

  Rhane sprinted over to the cluster of swords impaling the old monarch and clambered up them like stairs. “Sorry about this!” he said, the skeleton jostling beneath him. He vaulted himself onto the top of the bench as the Unbound clawed its way up after him, hot on his tail. With no time to second guess himself, Rhane sprinted towards the edge. He leapt. The beast followed in a frenzy. It pounced off the bench, claws extended.

  Rhane sailed through the air, straight towards the nearest banner, his hand outstretched. He gripped his fingers around the fringes of the fabric. The fibers snapped taut. Carried by his momentum, he arched forward, swinging over the pit.

  The Unbound flew towards Rhane. It thrust out its talons and took one last mid-air slash, nicking the tip of Rhane’s cape as he swung away. Empty handed, the creature sailed by, smashing into the lip of a balcony. Its nails scratched fruitlessly against the stonework. Flailing, the Unbound searched for a hold, desperate to pull itself up. It failed to find a grip. Slipping off the bottom of the balcony box, the beast tumbled down into the void, shrieking unto the end.

  Rhane watched the beast sink into shadow, smirking with triumph. He swung towards a second banner and transferred to it with ease. Arching through the air, he aimed himself towards Merel, letting the fabric slip from his hand as he neared the platform. He skirted down onto the solid stone, executing a stylish forward roll before coming to a stop just in front of his comrade.

  Merel peeked out from behind the camera lens, his slackened jaw slowly firming into a broad smile. Working fast, he changed out his roll of film, all the while nodding to himself, looking extremely pleased.

  Rhane labored to his feet, puffing and panting. He shot his photographer a frazzled grin.

  “…Did you get any of that?”

  The next few hours were a blur. After victoriously emerging with the crown, Rhane had been swept away by a non-stop cavalcade of company-sanctioned photographs and films and interviews. Between it all, dozens of people Rhane had never met before, several of them quite high in rank, approached him and demanded to shake his hand, all the while acting as if they were the oldest of friends. Rhane had hoped this job might be a hit, but this was an even bigger reaction than he’d imagined. Even the radio story he had gotten for scouting out the courthouse, a big deal only a few days before, seemed so insignificant now.

  At long last Rhane found himself at his final event for the day, desperately fighting the urge to lay down. Crown in hand, he heroically posed in front of the ruined courthouse set against an ancient, dilapidated metropolis. He threw on his best, most charming smile as Merel snapped his last batch of photos for the mission, framing Rhane perfectly against the ruins, his victory forever immortalized on film.

  Surrounding Rhane, just out of frame, was the expedition’s bustling encampment, packed to the brim with Verloren Industries equipment and tents. A detachment of corporate warships, custom-designed to navigate the narrow streets, encircled the site as a makeshift barrier against any potential Unbound incursion. Outside the wall of ships sprawled the city of Tannimahr, the old Egaellean capital: a parade of thin, haughty towers all jam-packed with absurdly intricate statuary. The legions of inlaid sculptures were dynamically posed, many reaching out and interacting with the adjacent buildings, as if the entire city were some kind of elaborate diorama. Rhane could only guess what they once portrayed, as most of their finer details were disintegrated beyond recognition. Still, it was going to make for a fantastic backdrop, he was sure of that.

  As Merel lined up his final few shots, a small crowd of guards and researchers gathered behind him, buzzing in the glow of Rhane’s triumphant acquisition. The rest of the camp bustled with equal energy as workers rushed about, diligently packing and cataloging the various statues and relics plundered from the surrounding ruins.

  “Alright, I think I got everything I need,” said Merel, giving Rhane an approving thumbs up. Without so much as a farewell, he wandered off, disappearing along with the rest of the crowd.

  “…Okay, see ya!” said Rhane, his flashy smile falling exhaustedly flat. Rubbing his sore arms, he handed off the crown to a handful of workers, who hurriedly packed it into a crate and sent it off towards a sleek cargo ship parked at the edge of the encampment. A heavy-eyed officer from the Shipping Division scrawled a swath of illegible letters on a receipt and handed the slip to Rhane before departing with their staff.

  “Thanks. Oh, and be sure to tell Director Vogel about that swinging part!” Rhane reminded the officer as they walked off.

  Just then, Rhane felt a set of hands latched onto his arm from out of nowhere. They began to pull him away, hastily leading him through the camp.

  “Ah, what the—?!” he exclaimed.

  “Excellent work today, Mr. Rhane,” declared a squeaky voice beside him.

  Rhane looked over and then down. Clutching his sleeve was his producer for the mission: a portly, besuited woman with hair coiled like a pleated pastry. She trawled him through the stream of passing workers, an ecstatic grin puffing up her rosy cheeks.

  “Wonderful stuff,” she continued. “Thrilling stuff.”

  “Oh. Uh, hello, ma’am,” Rhane greeted. “Where, um, where are we going?”

  “To your vehicle, of course,” the producer cheerfully stated.

  “Why—?”

  “Mr. Merel informs me that we have quite a story here. Rescuing the crown, single-handedly fending off an Unbound, acrobatics—there will be material enough to thrill the public for weeks to come!” She beamed with pride. “I knew you could do it again, I just knew it.”

  “Aw, thank you, ma’am,” said Rhane, genuinely flattered at the compliment. Keeping up appearances, he disguised his delight with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just doing what the company tells me.”

  “That’s a good attitude,” she said, “because we’re canceling your next expedition.”

  Rhane immediately ground to a halt, slipping out of the producer's grip. He shook his head, blinking rapidly, struggling to grasp what he’d just heard. “C—canceled?!” he sputtered, quickly jogging to catch back up. “But—but why?”

  “Big things, Mr. Rhane. Big things!” the producer declared, twitching with excitement. “I have just intercepted an urgent cable from the Bruckhaven office. From Chairman Metzer himself, no less!”

  Rhane’s confusion morphed to surprise. “F—from the Chairman?”

  “That’s right,” she replied. “He said, and I quote: ‘All executive field agents are to report into the Bruckhaven branch immediately stop’. This can only mean one thing!”

  “They’re calling in the top agents?” Rhane asked. “That means something? What does that mean?”

  “The launch, Mr. Rhane! The launch!” The producer squealed, waving her hands around. “Surely you’ve heard! Oooh, it’s so exciting!”

  “Wait, really?” said Rhane, his brows shooting up as high as they could go. “The launch is actually happening?” For months now he’d been hearing the rumors, but he had never given them much thought—the workers loved to gossip, and scuttlebutt ran rampant through the halls of the various corporate ships and buildings, some of it true, most of it not. Hearing that the armada was assembling, and that the National Treasure itself was being outfitted for a special expedition, it was just another story for the pile. But if what the producer said was right, and the brass were actually gathering the troops, then…

  The producer clasped her hands together. “Yes! Just think—soon our illustrious company will lead the charge into the undiscovered. The marketing possibilities will be endless!” She lobbed Rhane a knowing grin. “I hear all of the Executive Agents are slated to be on this expedition. And sweeter yet, word has reached my ears of a fresh opening among their ranks. With this most recent triumph, I have no doubt in my mind that you are a shoo-in for the position.”

  “A shoo-in?” Rhane couldn’t help but beam at the thought. “Yeah, you really think so?”

  “But of course!” declared the producer. “Now, you must promise me that you won’t forget your favorite marketing supervisor when you make it to the top.” She flashed him a wink.

  Chuckling, Rhane returned it. “Oh, you know I’d never do that,” he said, secretly trying to remember her name. Had they even met before this job?

  The pair pushed their way through the forest of tents and finally arrived at Rhane’s landship, the Dreamwalker, parked beside a half-standing bathhouse at the fringes of the camp. Rhane felt a sense of ease wash over him. With all the hubbub of unearthing the old courthouse and acquiring the crown, he hadn’t gotten a chance to stop by his reliable little ship in over three days.

  The Dreamwalker was a small thing, even for a Gallop-Class—a cramped rectangle on wheels, technically rated for a crew of two, though Rhane always had a hard time picturing how that would work exactly. As one of the few Verloren agents to operate without a support team, he had the whole ship to himself, with just barely enough space in its cargo hold to comfortably cook and sleep in. It was a lonely life, sure, and a far cry compared to the tight-knit team of his previous job, but what did that matter when the public loved you?

  Propping open the driver’s side door, the producer gestured inside. “Right, off you go,” she said.

  “Wait,” said Rhane. “Don’t I need to stick around for cleanup?”

  “Your job is done here. Don’t you worry, I’ve already cleared your departure with Councilor Pfeiffer. Now, go on, hurry back to Bruckhaven. Find the Director and petition her for the position, before another Junior Agent takes it out from under you. I foresee you and I doing big things together, Mr. Rhane! Big, big things…”

  Before Rhane could even say goodbye, the producer had already sauntered off, buzzing back into the camp. Left on his own, he just chuckled and shrugged—at least she was looking out for his future. He’d have to think of some way to thank her. Seriously, though, what was her name again?

  Grabbing the handle, Rhane hoisted himself into the snug driver’s chair. He took a moment to make himself comfortable, prying off his gauntlets and tossing them into the passenger’s chair. Leaning back in his seat, Rhane took the world’s briefest breather to process the slew of news that had just been dumped on him. He let out a tired breath and flashed a bright grin.

  “Big things…” he gleamed.

  Rhane snapped upright and gripped the wheel—this was no time for rest. He’d been working up to this moment for years. If the launch was really happening, then there would be spots to fill. This was finally his chance to prove to Director Vogel that he had what it took to be among the division’s upper echelon—to be an Executive Field Agent. He inserted his key into its slot and cranked the ignition. The small engine flared to life. Stepping on the gas, Rhane peeled off into the open plains, speeding towards the southern horizon and the city far beyond.