Neil felt his fist tighten when he saw the sword pulled from Thad’s arm as Humphrey delivered a kick that sent the other man flying straight into a wall, with a terrible crack.

  He shouldn’t be there alone.

  Neil glanced at Dustin, whose jaw was noticeably clenched.

  It felt so wrong to do nothing.

  To watch him die like this.

  To be a shield left behind before a battle.

  [“Do you have anything else to say, Mercer? Any more advice to offer!?”] Humphrey fumed as he stalked toward Thad, blood pooling onto the sandy road.

  Neil watched as Thad tried to push himself up, only for his injured arm to collapse, sending him back to the ground with a broken cry.

  Looking at the wound, it was obvious Thad only had minutes left if he couldn’t stop the bleeding. Though that didn’t seem to faze the young noble as he locked eyes with Humphrey, and where Neil had expected to find fear, he only saw cold determination.

  [“You haven’t won yet.”]

  [“When have I ever lost a fight to you? How about this? Yield now, and you won’t have to die.”]

  Relief washed over Neil at Humphrey’s offer, at least now he wouldn’t have to—

  [“No.”] The steely reply made Neil go cold as he watched Humphrey scowl down at Thad, who looked up defiantly, his teeth bared.

  [“You honestly still think you can win this?”] Humphrey asked with a disbelieving laugh as he crouched down in front of Thad, the sword lowering for a second.

  [“I just need to buy more time.”]

  [“What—"]

  Thad moved with speed, his hand coming up with a fistful of sand that went straight into Humphrey’s eyes, causing the other man to let out an angry roar as Thad took off in the opposite direction.

  How was this going to help? He’d only bleed out faster.

  Neil watched Thad teleport three times in short succession, the last one causing him to stumble as he landed on a roof, rolling to a stop before he scrambled to an area of cover and looked at his arm.

  [“Fuck, I shouldn’t have given up my healing.”] Thad admonished himself through gritted teeth as he pulled off his armor’s sash.

  “Oh, really, you think?!” Phoebe barked at the screen.

  “What’s he doing?” Dustin asked, looking at Neil.

  “I think he’s going to try to dress it. It’ll only give him a few more minutes tops,” Neil said with a grimace.

  Thad still had a way to go with his study of healing magic. That much was evident in the man’s futile attempt to control the hemorrhage without it.

  However, the young man didn’t dress the wound; instead, he tied the fabric of his sash above it, the end of the cloth going into his mouth as he torqued it down. He then snatched a small piece of wood from the rubble near him and threaded it into his self-made contraption, further twisting it into the fabric.

  He tightened the fabric until Neil could see Thad grimace, before he finally wound the cloth in place to hold the stick from unfastening.

  The bleeding had stopped.

  Thad laid his head back against the wall, sweat clinging to his forehead. He looked terrible.

  [“God, that was too close.”]

  Thad closed his eyes for a second and let out a long, ragged breath before he went to stand.

  He stumbled, catching himself against a wall, before his eyes went wide, a shadow flying overhead and away.

  But it wasn’t Humphrey; no, Thad turned his head and watched in horror as a giant Manticore glided over the ruined city, its eyes searching for prey.

  Thank the healer, it hadn’t seen him.

  “Did you put a Bronze Rank Monster in the simulation?” Cassandra asked, turning on Rufus, who looked at the noble passively.

  “Manticores are a staple of this arena. A way to keep the competitors alert. I’m surprised one hadn’t joined them in their squabbling earlier,” Rufus stated.

  “The first one takes a while to manifest,” Phoebe said, knowing well the feeling of the manticore’s claws. “It won’t be long till the city’s full of them.”

  Neil glanced at the other screen, seeing Humphrey taking cover in an abandoned shop as the manticore flew overhead. The man looked pissed, his eyes red from the sand.

  Good, the monster would hopefully keep Humphrey distracted long enough for Thad to get further away.

  But then what?

  It wasn’t like Thad could fight Humphrey in his condition.

  And if the Manticore’s numbers only kept increasing, it wouldn’t be long before it didn’t matter.

  Death was coming for Thad regardless of how he chose to fight it. His fate was inevitable, almost tragic even.

  “I didn’t know you people knew what tourniquets were,” Jason mused, looking at Thad’s screen.

  “A tourniquet?” Clive asked, looking from Jason to Thad.

  “Yeah, to stop the bleeding, we use it a lot in my world,” Jason said, pointing towards the improvised wrapping on Thad’s arm. “Is that a part of your medical training, Neil?”

  “Not that I’ve studied, but Thad’s been picking up a lot of books related to healing, so maybe that’s where he got it,” Neil said, shaking his head.

  “Thad, reading on his own accord?” Cassandra asked, surprise in her tone.

  “Is that not normal for him?” Clive asked, leaning in closer. “He seems rather studious to me. Would you call this a recent development, then?”

  “It’s the head trauma. Thad didn’t start caring about any of this till he fell off that balcony. Best thing to happen to him, in my opinion,” Dustin said, with a shrug, before looking over at Rufus. “Was that you by the way? Pretty low blow, man.”

  “I wanted to see if he’d recover or falter from being confronted by his past.”

  “And you decided to do this while his life was on the line?” Neil asked, a bit of anger coming through as he watched Rufus raise a brow.

  “It’s a mirage chamber, Davone. What better place to test him? When the both of you are covering for his weaknesses at every step? We’ve seen the results of that.”

  Thad huffed out a breath as his arm was jostled again. He’d immobilized it the best he could, but it didn’t stop the pain when he climbed over rubble or dashed into a building to avoid the monster lurking overhead.

  -You should’ve yielded to him. -

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I… I know, no way am I beating him with this bum arm. I've what, 20 minutes on the timer still? How can he be considered that much more powerful than me?

  -He’s been training to kick our ass since he could walk. -

  Training to fight monsters, more like it. Though I guess you could—

  -Don’t be a Redacted! You would’ve been manticore chow if it weren’t for me. –

  Fine, fine… Hey, um, I was wondering… What happens to you… If I don’t fix this?

  -What? -

  If I died… Are you going to be ok?

  -It’s a mirage chamber, User. What part of that’s not clicking with you? -

  No, that’s not what I… I mean, if I fail us in the astral space. What happens to you?

  -Scared I won’t get my comeuppance? –

  Thad looked up at the screen, his brows coming together.

  I don’t want you to get hurt because of my inability to save you.

  -You don’t have to lie to me. -

  Was I lying?

  -…-

  It’s just… It’s a lot of pressure.

  -All I can say is that I would continue to exist as I am-

  As you are?

  -I’m not getting Redacted banned while you’re trapped like this, so just shut it already. Maybe you should focus less on me and more on figuring out your next move. -

  Ok, fine, Jesus!

  -Don’t go bringing your father’s religion into this. I’ve seen your memories. I’d rather deal with the builder. -

  Thadwick… You know, I am truly relieved you’ll be ok.

  -Personal Assistant Has Disconnected. -

  The screen faded from Thad’s vision.

  Clippy was such a drama king, ditching him like that. What was he even up to?

  Thad sighed as he glanced up at his map widget, then peered around the corner of the building he stood flushed against.

  The Broadstreet clinic was remarkably intact, given the destruction throughout the city. It looked just like he’d remembered it.

  Thadwick had gotten hangover tonics from the clinic on more than one occasion, but his actual knowledge of the shop or Jory, for that matter, had been… limited. In fact, Thad wasn’t quite sure which person in Thadwick’s memories had been Jory, as none of those had been very coherent.

  It wasn’t surprising when he found the front door locked, but it was troublesome.

  Thad paused, thinking of the lockpicking magic, before stopping himself. Now was not the time to try picking a magical lock. No, he needed to find a quiet entrance, one that people tended to leave open.

  Thad moved around the three-story building, finding the courtyard gate he’d read about. And while the gate was locked as well, Thad easily climbed up and over the thick, rocky wall despite his arm.

  He’d missed climbing… he should find more places to do it.

  Not like this, of course… though it was good practice climbing with just one arm. Not that he thought the point of that exercise was to climb after being stabbed… no, this was a Pallimustus exclusive.

  Thad jumped down and landed in a crouch, cursing under his breath at the sudden pain that shot up his arm. He checked the tourniquet, relieved to find it still tight… though that was painful in its own right.

  Moving to the rear entrance, he sighed in relief when the door opened with no resistance.

  The first floor of the clinic reminded Thad of an urgent care facility back home, but no matter how he searched, no healing potions were in sight… well, of course. That would’ve been too easy.

  “Fine, plan B it is then.”

  “Well, he cannot be up to anything good,” Clive said, watching Thad pull different reagents and ritual items from the shelves of the wrecked alchemy lab and carefully organize them around the only intact workbench.

  “He specializes in alchemy and array integration, right?” Farrah asked, watching the screen closely as Thad pulled out medical supplies as well. “It's very niche.”

  “I wouldn’t say he specializes in anything… in fact, it’s almost as if he doesn’t respect the sanctity of the different fields at all,” Clive said, tilting his head as Thad caught some of his own blood in a jar and mixed it with a solution Clive didn’t recognize.

  “That’s rather dangerous… but kind of genius if you ask me,” Farrah said before she looked over at Neil and Dustin. “You really should make him join the society; he’d be a lot less likely to get stabbed.”

  “Though a lot more likely to get his arm ripped off is what I hear,” Neil said, crossing his arms. “Besides, wouldn’t it be weird working with your ex, Clive?”

  “I already clarified that we never dated; it was all a misunderstanding!”

  “No, you only slept together, my mistake,” Neil said, giving Clive a side eye.

  “I slept with Jason, not Thad!”

  “Context Clive! Please mate, I just finished sorting this one out!” Jason exclaimed exasperatedly. “Also, Neil, I can promise you this. No one here’s been sleeping with your teammate, boyfriend, or whatever rumor turns out to be true. Now give it a rest before you get me in more trouble!”

  “Boyfriend?!” Cassandra asked, looking over at Neil, who blanched. “That’s new. In fact, that’s information my family should’ve been made aware of, Davone.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend!”

  Clive noticed that both Rufus and Cassandra gave Neil the same look, which was odd as they’d been at each other’s throats for most of the match already.

  “He’s not!”

  Well, who was he to understand what brought people together? The only thing he was really interested in was the mess of arrays being drafted on the bench.

  “Is he using blood magic?” Farrah asked, a look of concern on her face as she watched Thad lay out a long strip of bandage and start inscribing runes and diagrams on the thin cloth using the blood solution he’d made.

  The precise patterns were an impressive feat without a reference guide. However, Clive had seen Thad draw rituals from memory on multiple occasions. He was scary good, especially for someone without an enhanced memory.

  Suspiciously good.

  Clive studied Thad further, noticing how the man looked up in the air at random intervals as if thinking.

  “Neil? Would you say Thad’s interest in rituals and arrays is new?”

  “What, oh, um…” Neil stood from his spot and quickly took a seat beside Farrah, the furthest person from Cassandra. His desperation to escape the noble’s scrutiny was palpable on his frazzled aura. “I mean, not really. Thad’s always been a bit of a ritual magic nerd, even when we were kids.”

  Well, that was unhelpful.

  Clive sighed and rubbed his temples.

  Every time he thought he’d proven his hypothesis, a new problem would arise. But he had to be right. It would be absurd at this point for it all to be a coincidence. Clive took out his notebook and jotted down a memo to himself.

  Investigate accident involvement.

  It would be so much easier if he had another person to research with.

  “What are you writing down?” Jason asked, eyeing the notebook, which Clive snapped shut.

  “Notes for a project, nothing special,” Clive said, only for Jason to smirk and reach for the book, to which Clive lightly swatted his hand away. “You'd better keep your hands to yourself, lest you want more rumors to circulate, Jason.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Jason said with a huff, looking mildly embarrassed as he turned to watch Humphrey’s screen; the Geller scion actively trying to evade a Manticore that had caught sight of him.

  Clive felt a pang of regret.

  He didn’t really want to push the affliction specialist away.

  In fact, he wanted nothing more than to have Jason as the very research partner he’d been wishing for. But circumstances were not ideal.

  Clive glanced at Cassandra, the way she leaned against Jason, how she took Jason’s hand that he’d swatted away, and gave it a light kiss. Her eyes focused on Clive as she did so.

  It was the Mercer Problem.

  Jason was now deeply involved in the family. And if he told the affliction specialist his theory and the Mercers found out, they wouldn’t hesitate to silence him over the matter of their heir not being, well, their heir anymore.

  Though… with the one theory, that may not be the case.

  No, no, he needed to focus. He couldn’t let his soft spot for Jason lead him to ruin.

  He needed to figure out why he wanted Jason so involved in the first place. He wasn’t thinking of bringing Farrah on the case. So, it couldn’t just be a matter of friendship. No, there was something else factoring into his decision-making process, and Clive would find the underlying cause of it.

  But first, he needed to figure out how he could prove Thad Mercer was an outworlder.

  Thad glanced at the image display widget, then back at his work.

  The integration was a little experimental, but the logic was sound. Clippy had verified it for him, though even he seemed skeptical of the outcome.

  But desperation was the mother of invention.

  Thad carefully wrapped his arm in the bandage, making sure to cover the wound… There was no way this was sterile, but it wasn’t like he would have to worry about the lingering effects of infection in the arena. Finally happy with the wrapping, Thad eased his arm onto the cold metal workbench he’d established the diagram on.

  “I hope I did this right.”

  -We’ll know one way or another… Do you think Dustin wins if you take yourself out? -

  The bet was on Humphrey defeating me, so nope.

  -He’ll be so upset! -

  Can you not sound so psyched for the possibility!

  Thad paused, looking over his work for the final time.

  “This better work.”

  He activated the array and gasped at the sudden pain in his arm. It felt like it was burning from the inside out. Thad’s vision almost went dark as he clutched onto the table in front of him.

  So, this was why ritual healing was not often used.

  Noted.

  The pain started to subside slightly as Thad let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes. Well, his arm was still there. That was a good sign. He lightly tugged off the bandages and saw the bright pink of newly healed skin. It wasn’t perfect, more like taking a lesser grade potion, but it was enough to prevent him from bleeding out.

  Thad loosened the tourniquet… and felt the painful sensation of pins and needles run up and down his arm, though compared to the ritual it was nothing.

  He was back in the game!

  Though what was the game? He’d never expected to see such a high-ranking monster… was there a way to win by defeating the beast? A secondary objective?

  Humphrey was right; he couldn’t take him in a fair fight. He’d have to get smart if he wanted to win. Thad glanced at the time, noting 10 minutes on the clock… his spell wouldn’t matter if Humphrey weren’t close by when it activated. He’d need to bring the man to him. And if that were the case, he might as well make the fight on his own terms. Thad glanced at the ritual supplies still left over and pulled up two different borrowed rituals.

  -What are you… Oh, gods, that’s, are you sure you're not the villain User? -

  Updated Neil and Thad Design. To be honest it's a season 2 design for Thad... if we ever get there.

  Pocket Sand!