"Do you think we will get overtime for this?" Banks asked wrapped up in his blue cloak, a symbol of his new position more tightly around his body. It was really comfortable, especially well made, an ideal reward for somebody who has reached the level of a magician. He lay, half reclined in a comfy chair, in the guard station. Around him, his newly assigned team, languished in various states of readiness waiting for their first deployment.

  "At the end of all of this they will probably come together to try and figure out how to dole out the compensation," Jakk admitted. "We probably won't get the full amount of all the overtime unless they're being generous, but they won't leave us out to dry.

  "If we survive at least," an elderly lady, with a face like a gravel road, said. "Overtime is always a lot better than death compensation pay. We'll be relying on you to keep us alive boss."

  "Rely on yourselves," Banks stated. I don't mind killing whatever needs to be killed or even if you want to use me as a shield. But I can't be constantly babysitting. I tried once and it turned out poorly."

  "Have you really gotten your mana veins?" a younger man who Jakk had introduced as his cousin asked.

  "For any mana level over five hundred mana veins are practically required," Banks pointed out. "If I hadn't got them, then I couldn't be considered a magician." Indeed without mana veins of any kind recuperation of mana was a lengthy process lasting from anywhere between a couple of hours to half a day. Gaining proper mana veins, allowed a magician to draw in large amounts of mana and replenish their reserves, allowing for more practice, prolonged spell casting and a much greater output of spells once they were a bit more experienced.

  "Do you have any advice on somebody looking to form their mana veins?" the younger man asked politely.

  "Daved, you need to literally stop asking that to everybody you meet," Jakk said with some exasperation as Banks looked towards the younger man utilizing his mana vision.

  "You've just cracked four hundred," he said. "A bit too early to start thinking about that."

  "Never too early to start preparing in advance," the younger man said.

  "Sometimes, it can be," Banks refuted as he picked up, whatever the medieval equivalent of a donut was, before biting into it. "If it distracts you from what is important. Mana veins generate spontaneously when the mana level in your core is too high. Focus on improving your core. Destroy and reform it until, no further progress is possible and then gather more and more mana until tiny thin hairs splinter out of your core. Those are the nascent mana veins and when they form it means you have even more work to do, because now you have to improve both your core and your veins."

  "That feels rather pessimistic," the young man said.

  "Maybe," Banks stated non-committedly. While anything over five hundred put you among the elite forces of humanity it was nowhere close to the pinnacle. In fact to somebody who had taken one more step forward and condensed a Sacred Body there would probably be little difference between the two states. The fact that mana levels were not linear was a fact that only became more true the higher up you rose in them and it mean that those that eventually reached the lofty levels of ten thousand and above were virtually unassailable no matter how many weaker magicians were thrown at them.

  "There's a job for you," Eve ran into the room. "A clinic at the bad part of town is expected to be used as a base by the rebels. Boss needs you to investigate and apprehend. Although if it's too dangerous feel free to go lethal."

  "Somebody who knows anything about this town take the directions," Banks said as he stood up in such a way that his cloak fluttered in a manner most cool. "We'll route out these rebels and be back in time for tea."

  "It's the seventh hour, way to late for tea," Jakk pointed out.

  "I meant tea the drink, not the time," Banks defended himself, picking up another doughnut equivalent and savoring the sugar, ignoring the skeptical looks. "Stop doubting your new leader and take the lead."

  "I know where that is," Jakk said taking the small one page dossier that Eve handed to him. He gave a look towards Banks as if silently asking a question and received a blank look in response. "Okay, if anybody is not ready, get read. I'm going to check us out and then we leave." A flurry of activity burst out at those words and Banks slowly pulled himself to his feet tightening his cloak as he pulled out a badge it's silver face describing him as a proud member of the Pragnosis City Guard. It felt heavy, a weight that many people would bear proudly and some would shirk, unfortunately he wouldn't be one of the shirkers just yet.

  xxx

  "Ganochy Family Clinic," Jakk read the sign above the alleged clinic. "Sounds foreign." The clinic was closed, nobody coming in or leaving in the short time since they had arrived. In addition the blinds were closed, so a cursory inspection basically confirmed that they knew fuck all about the people who were inside, or even if there were any people inside.

  "I wouldn't know, I've never got the whole racially profile thing down. Is that going to impact my assessment," Banks snarked.

  "What no," young cousin said.

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  "How would you know, you've never risen in the ranks," Jakk pointed out. "Could be due to your lack of racism."

  "Don't tease the kid, Jakk," the elderly woman said heaving a disproportionately massive war hammer onto her shoulders. "Are we knocking or knocking down."

  "No point knocking," Jakk said, his words directed to Banks, not seeking confirmation, but more rationalizing his choices. "Our information should be fairly reliable. We can replace a door, a lot easier than we can replace our lives. I'm going to very politely ask them to drop their weapons, when we enter. Anybody who is adverse to that reasonable request is somebody who we can safely assume is a target."

  "Then I guess I'm the vanguard as usual," the elderly woman, whose name Banks still didn't know. Hexagons appeared over her body and armor giving her a blocky texture as she walked over to the front door of the clinic. "Knock, knock," she said in a cool manner, before the door was blasted inwards with one swing of the war hammer.

  "Whose there?" Banks said following behind, the cousin and then finally Jakk bringing up the rear. The clinic was deserted, sterile white tiles contrasted against brightly colored wooden chairs. There was a desk that functioned as some form of primitive reception area at the far end of the room and three doors including one that apparently led to a bathroom. Banks closed his eyes before switching to his mana vision and frowned immediately at the responses. There was a vague miasma permeating the building, rendering his really rusty mana vision, even shittier. A sudden banging broke the silence of the room and Banks immediately turned towards the source of the rhythmic thumping behind one of the doors.

  "Check the bathroom first," Banks said, pointing towards the elderly lady, still in that weird hexagonal form as he he readied one of Agua's Rhinestone Tears, ready to intercept any attack. He swiped around the reception desk, grabbing a pamphlet on some shitty yellow paper that detailed the importance of vegetables. He casually read through the paper as the elderly woman walked over to the bathroom, before pushing it open. A brief burst of movement and she retreated holding up her great sword only to pause. In the middle of the bathroom stood a man dressed in white robes, pulled tightly around his body, he swayed forward nearly collapsing to the floor as he stumbled through the open doorway only to be caught by the elderly lady.

  "Look at his eyes," she said grabbing his shoulders, restraining him and holding him up for the rest to see. The issue was instantly recognizable, where there should have been an iris, there was instead a hole, like that part of the eye was ripped straight out. Combined with the vacant look on his face it sent a shiver down Bank's spine. Despite some vague similarities this definitely was not a zombie, and he would bet his last coin that this signaled something worse.

  "Ever ran across something like that before?" Jakk asked him, and Banks wracked his brains, before an answer came to him.

  "Once," he admitted. "There was an unnamed bug in the hot jungles of Carcarter. It sucked out souls through the eyeballs. The method seems very similar to me."

  "The jungles of Carcarter were burned down over a century ago," Jakk said, giving him a searching look, that he promptly ignored.

  "And it was because of shit, like that insect that it was burned down," Banks said. "There was too much wrong with that damned place. Still I doubt the insect is the culprit here. However, unless we have got a necromancer on the payroll we have no way to check for soul damage."

  "We do have a necromancer on the payroll, but there's been so many issues with ghosts lately I doubt we could get them to come in this year," Jakk said. "Should we restrain?"

  "Please," Banks said, as the man was restrained. "Make sure none of his limbs can move. I don't want there to be any chance of him breaking free."

  "You're wary of the effects of whatever was done to him?" Jakk asked.

  "I tend to be a bit more wary of those who have lost their rationality," Banks said, as he was fully restrained. "Check the door on the right."

  "It looks like a doctor's office," the older woman said as she cautiously slid it open, before her eyes widened as she beheld the full extent. The room was devoid of people. There was a chair in the middle where a patient might sit, except the chair was covered in dried blood and there ropes attached where the hands and feet should be. Banks stepped past the woman and into the room scanning the area. There were a few file cabinets, no doubt full of information that would keep somebody busy, a couple of tools laid out, some that even looked like they didn't belong in a torture hall and a cabinet that was full of various bottles, that would require a more experienced alchemist to analyze.

  "The other room looks like a garden," the younger cousin said, and Banks felt a spike of annoyance. "The doctor looks like he was growing his own herbs."

  "That's a bit unusual, considering Pragnosis produces a lot of medical herbs isn't it?" Banks asked, leaving the doctor's office and heading outside to the garden. It looked fairly standard as they went, with a stagnant fountain in the middle, bearing a statue of some random man, as was the style for so many years, and many miniature aqueducts barely running from the fountain. Rows of neat little herbs were lined up, all in pristine condition

  "Not really," Jakk stated. "While they are cheaper to purchase it also means that they are cheaper to produce, at least the common ones."

  "Are those common herbs?" Banks asked.

  "No," Jakk admitted. 'But I'm not really an expert."

  "Any idea where to go next," the cousin spoke up.

  "Down," Banks said, activating his mana vision. The miasma was potent as ever, a thick blanket that covered the finer details, but he was fairly certain there was a hidden passage leading downwards into a basement. "They're beneath our feet."

  "I haven't seen any stairs," Jakk stated. "Split up and look for them?"

  "No," Banks said, looking towards where the miasma was thickest before he summoned rhinestone after rhinestone. Simultaneously they plunged into the ground forming a circle, before they started to rotate, slowly at first then picking up speed, until they were barely a blur moving at full power.

  "What are you doing," Jakk said stepping away from the circle that was rapidly forming around Banks.

  "I'm digging obviously," the time traveler said as the ground was torn apart.

  "Can I convince you to maybe take it easy on the herb garden?" Jakk asked.

  "I thought you didn't care about her___" Banks started before the rhinestone suddenly met no resistance. "Hey I've f___" was the last words he was able to say before the ground collapsed and him along with it.