Aside from Por’sha and Koff who were within the manufacturing building, everyone else was on the field below. Ian heard Wolfien muttering almost constantly to Arima, seemingly relaying intelligence to Koff via the assistants’ shared quantum channel. Ian figured that Wolfien found it easier to just relay communications through Arima rather than opening up a channel of his own.

Wolfien turned away for a moment and rubbed his head as though suffering from a migraine. He gritted his teeth before addressing everyone present. “The second and third teams are on their way. They took out the closest amplification tower, so we should be safe for the next ten minutes or so. We need to heal up, get the glosSwords, and get out.”

Ian continued to stimulate Zuliman’s vitality while the others focused on healing Mo’qin. A short while later, the third team arrived, the second trailing just behind.

“What happened?” Var’dun’a rasped, her eyebrows furrowing inward. “You lost three people?”

Ian realized that the second group was down to eight, the third group down to nine. His gut went cold as he realized how lucky they were to emerge from the battle with relatively light casualties. His mind flashed back to Por’sha’s injury.

What would have happened to their mission without Por’sha? They had quantum channels prepared as a backup measure, but using them to communicate was cumbersome at best: They didn’t transmit voices, so it was difficult to know who was talking if being contacted by multiple people simultaneously. Moreover, you could only contact one person at a time, unlike Por’sha who could transmit orders to everyone at once.

“We were overpowered by a Corona sent to guard the tower,” Prime Ko’la reported crisply, dark bangs of hair loosened by the wind partially obscuring his eyes. He brushed them away, revealing a half-healed circle of angry pink. “He had a glosSword and damn near wiped us out before Lanhui sniped him from a distance.”

Var’dun’a closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath. “Very well. We’ll take the proper time to mourn them later.”

The spectre of loss fell upon everyone, the formerly good mood ruined. Ian looked over and saw Zuliman blinking rapidly, her right hand clenched into a tight fist. He wondered if he should say something.

“Farazad...” he began, calling her by her first name.

“What?” she asked, giving him a sad smile.

“I–” Ian began, feeling hopelessly awkward. Should’ve stayed silent.

“This is war. Our war.” She scoffed quietly. “Your war. We’re not going to emerge unscathed, not even if you fall: Our collision course with Selejo is immutable.”

Ian sighed. “Even so, condolences.”

Before the mission’s announcement, Ian had only really spent time with Ko’la, Lanhui, and Druni. Looking at the men and women before him, he couldn’t readily name who was missing. But for Zuliman, they’re people she’s possibly worked with for years.

She started to blink again. “I said this is your war, but I hope you know I was joking.”

Ian frowned. It is though, technically.

“This is a war over our nation’s destiny. You’re merely the catalyst to conflict. If we truly wished to avoid war...well.” The last word was spoken icily, Zuliman’s eyes devoid of emotion.

I’d be dead, Ian thought, finishing her train of thought. And perhaps I should just end it all, he thought. End myself and end this madness.

But as Zuliman said, they were past the point of no return: Not even his death would deliver the SPU from Selejo’s righteous jaws. The only way forward was in outmaneuvering Selejo and its allies, restructuring the balance of power in the West.

Arima interrupted Ian’s contemplation with an abrupt shout. “They found the sword stockpile and are coming out.”

“Secured?” Var’dun’a asked.

“Koff says they found fifteen swords that were completely locked down.”

The general nodded. “It’s not like we haven’t tried intercepting a shipment in the past. They lock the finished swords with cinchbindings. Not sure if anyone saw the footage from one of the swords we stole a few years ago, but breaking the binding caused it to detonate energy from its pocket reactor.”

Ian hadn’t seen the footage, but he could imagine the carnage.

There was a specific key one could use to deactivate a cinchbinding, but each batch of swords used a unique keyhead. The keyhead schematics were likely stored on a secure glossdrive, but finding and fabricating the latest shipment’s key in a reasonable timeframe was implausible.

Ko’la placed a hand on his belt and addressed Arima. “Did they all have cinchbindings?”

“The first four swords of the next batch appear to have been finished but weren’t outfitted with anti-theft measures. There was also another sword that seemed to be an older model sent in for repairs; it, too, lacked any protections.”

While they discussed on the ground, Por’sha and Koff navigated out of the building and leapt down on swirls of air. They landed lightly, ripples of wind billowing out. Koff carried several sheathed swords in his arms, while five others spun lazily around them, buoyed on the wind.

“These are the ones we can bind,” Por’sha explained, pointing at the swords hovering in the air. “The rest are dead weight.”

Koff grunted behind her and sat the cinchbound swords on the ground, shaking out his arms afterwards.

Ian jogged over to Por’sha and snatched one of the twirling swords, his fingers gliding over the panther logo along its scabbard.

Hello! A jarringly cheerful, somewhat robotic voice sounded out in Ian’s head. I am glosSword model number 300x!

The model number also belonged to the original Bluebird. Perfect.

Nearby, the others bound glosSwords of their own. Back in the SPU, they’d already determined several glosSword allocation schemes based on how many unsecured swords they obtained. Ian recalled that the four other swords they found would be going to Wolfien, Lanhui, Var’dun’a, and Mo’qin. They seemed taken aback by the swords’ lighthearted demeanor, frowning and even trying to speak out loud. Ian knew he’d been the same way in the beginning, but it was funny to watch the elite practitioners off-balance.

“What features does the model 350z have?” Wolfien murmured, caressing the unsheathed blade of his glosSword.

350...z? Ian wondered, holding his glosSword up. Is this an old model?

“Is that supposed to be better than the model 300x?” Ian asked, glancing over.

“Oh...my sword says that those are a few years old at this point. It must have been the sword sent in for repairs. At the very least it doesn’t appear to be bound to anyone.” Wolfien sighed and held out his sword. “You should probably take the newer model.”

“Can you ask it why it’s better than the model 300x?”

The practitioner replied without missing a beat, likely having asked the sword in a scenario. “It says it offers five new modes.”

“Any that I’d actually find useful?”

“There are general improvements to the intelligence module,” the Regret practitioner offered. “I mean, it’s a better sword all around, though the margins are fairly close.”

Ian sighed. What do you think, little sword?

I’m much better than a 350z! it exclaimed, its voice resounding through Ian’s head. I’m a refurbished 300x. Much better!

Ian wasn’t sure a “refurbished” old model screamed “much better” than a brand-new...newer model, but he’d already made his decision.

It’s probably best I stick with what I’m familiar with, Ian thought. “It’s fine Wolfien,” Ian replied. “Keep your sword.”

He turned his eyes down to the sword in his hands. Your name is now Bluebird.

Oh! Would you like to bind me? the sword asked.

Ian snorted. Yes. You’re now my sword, Bluebird.

Excellent! Please wait.

Ian chuckled. Just like old times.

Please wait...please wait...Binding complete! Bluebird at your service.

Damn, Ian thought. Faster than old times.

What is your name? Bluebird asked.

Iggy.

Iggy! Hello.

Perhaps I’ve made a mistake, Ian thought, immediately regretting his spur-of-the-moment choice.

What mode would you like me to use, Iggy?

“Y’jeni, why did I say Iggy...” Ian murmured under his breath. Use companion mode. We’re going to be socketing all seven soul gem slots.

Seven? Iggy, I’m a refurbished glosSword 300x: I can slot ten soul gems.

Ian did a double-take. “Hey, how many soul gems can the 350z slot for companion mode?”

“Nine; why?”

Ian caressed Bluebird’s sheath. “No reason.”

Take these, he said, brandishing his ten best gems.

Oh...these...are incredible, the sword gushed. Do you know the estimated value of these gems? Why, you could purchase a province! Iggy, you flatter me.

Ian raised an eyebrow.

The sword flashed solid blue, then began to chant “Please wait” for several minutes. In the meantime, Ian and the others regrouped and bound the captured practitioners. They even extracted the ones in the underground bunker, placing everyone under an artificially heavy sleep that would last a few hours.

Our goal is to conquer, not kill, Ian reminded himself as they worked. Every Godoran life we take is ammunition to turn public opinion against us.

Companion complete! the sword called out, interrupting Ian’s thoughts.

What form did you take? he asked, trying to decipher what kind of animal looked like an origami oval with antennae.

The largest soul gem provided was composed of energy from marine lifeforms! Most of that energy came from plankton.

Ian blinked. So you’re...a plankton? Can you turn into a bird?

Of course Iggy! Do you have a vitality template?

Ian fished out a small soul gem from his pocket, one he’d specially prepared for this purpose. The plankton began to hum, its papery strips rearranged themselves into the familiar shape of a seagull.

Transformation complete!

Ian smiled. Perfect.

“It’s cute,” Zuliman murmured. “A paper bird. Why did you choose companion mode?”

Bluebird...after all the gems, what percent of my power can you reasonably replicate? Ian inquired.

Calibrating...approximately 80%, the sword replied. While my attacks will be powered by Death energy, I will be unable to actually mimic your practice.

Ian inhaled sharply. The sword could practically take out all of Corvid alone. Ian knew that the sword wouldn’t be able to actually perform decemancy, but if it could combine some of his energy, the energy from the soul gems, and then energy from its pocket dimension reactor...it would be able to take out an entire city block, much less intelligently defend him by putting up shields. Aegis mode, sniper mode...both are useful, but I’d rather have a soul-gem-powered companion.

“Decemancy makes companion mode overpowered,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s almost disgusting.”

“The soul gem slots?” Por’sha asked, joining the conversation.

Ian nodded. “Right.”

“What do your gems get the power replication percent up to?”

Ian laughed. “80%.”

Por’sha nodded slowly. “Taking this facility was the right decision.”

—

“Ok, everyone who has a glosSword is taking point in the formation. I need the defenders to set their swords to aegis mode, with everyone else on amplification. Got it?” Var’dun’a sounded like she’d swallowed an elementalist’s flames, her voice hoarse with exertion.

The squad members saluted the general and replied affirmatively. Ian knew the general wasn’t addressing him in this instance: He wasn’t the convoy, but the payload.

“It’s best to use amplification mode unless you know what you’re doing.” She gave Ian a dry look. “Or if you’re a decemancer with prismatic soul gems to spare.

“The strategy remains unchanged: With respect to tactics, defend Dunai to the death. Expect to be put through the ringer in Regret scenarios. If everyone starts dying around you, don’t despair. Keep going and remember the mission. Understood?” Rather than increase in volume, the general’s voice was almost a whisper by the end. As she spoke, Ian felt every word, the intensity palpable.

Ian gave the general a salute and bowed his head in respect. The others saluted her, then him, the gravity of what they were about to do settling over them. Subduing a small facility was a far cry from capturing a city: There were many more ways that attacking Corvid could fail.

Var’dun’a tightened the scarf around her throat. “The platoons should soon be coming in from the West. We’re on schedule and we can’t afford to fall behind. Let’s move.”

—

“Hostiles detected,” one of Corona Blair’s subordinates called out. “The same party that took out the amplification tower earlier.”

The Corona narrowed her eyes and walked over, taking control of the scope. “It is the same party, at least some of them.” These were the people who had almost taken out Corona Sept, leaving him to asphyxiate on his own blood. Still, he was resuscitated and was able to report on some faces that he recognized. Foremost among them was one of the SPU’s high princes, Prime Ko’la.

And now, flying in a phalanx toward Corvid was the very same Dark practitioner, a glosSword swinging conspicuously at his hip. Blair realized that over half of the group had glosSwords and growled.

“Corona Sept...you had orders to blow up the entire facility if the SPU came close.” Blair closed her eyes tightly and rubbed them, feeling the beginnings of a headache. She could understand why Sept would hesitate to follow through with the order: His own soldiers were stationed at the glosSword facility. He had probably planned to simply overpower the intruders and avoid blowing his own men to smithereens, but he’d been nearly killed and knocked unconscious.

Blair felt the scenario coming to its natural end. She snapped back to the center of the command room, her fists clenched. “The SPU invaders are coming in the next thirty seconds or so,” she reported, bowing her head respectively.

Coronus Byrrh smiled thinly, his pale, papery skin creasing in on itself. The old man stood to his full height, his stooped back leaving him only slightly taller than Blair.

“I officially give you proxy command,” he said, voice solemn. “Corona Blair...I need you to find a way to victory.”

She kept her head bowed, eyes boring a hole in the floor. “I know, sir.”

“You were present for Selejo’s warning, yes?”

“Yes, Coronus.”

Byrrh nodded. “You should know that Dunai is coming.”

Blair swallowed. “So it’s true that he’s a half-step ascendant?”

The Coronus sighed, crossing his hands behind his back. “We have much to lose today, Blair. If we cannot attain victory...”

“Sir...”

“Corona.”

Blair hesitantly raised her head to meet the coronus’ steely gaze. He gestured toward the window and she followed his movement.

“We’re sworn to protect the regulars in this city, this nation,” the coronus murmured. Blair’s eyes fell over the nearby buildings and the skyline sweeping off in the distance. “When the day’s done...rest knowing you did your best.”

Blair hiccuped a laugh. “No regrets.”

The coronus unclasped his hands and walked over, pulling Blair into a hug.

They stayed like that for precious few seconds before Blair disengaged, drawing her bangs to the side. She fixed her gaze to the window and formed a salute. The coronus looked at her in surprise, but mirrored the gesture, saluting the city that they were sworn to defend.

Blair took a deep breath, then entered into a scenario. She could reprimand herself for wasting precious time talking to Coronus Byrrh in the real world...but she didn’t regret it. Having the same interaction in a scenario wouldn’t have been the same. There was something important about having someone else remember her words, a weightiness, a responsibility that went both ways.

“This is a scenario,” Blair announced, slipping seamlessly from the real present into the simulated future. “Time to test them with our artillery.”

The coronus chuckled softly and cocked his head to the side. Blair knew that he was sending out the instructions via quantum channel, the old coronus infamous for having nearly every commanding officer registered. Sure, the man had no boundaries, but such preparedness paid off in spades on a day like today.

“What kind of artillery?”

“This is the first scenario,” Blair replied. “I’m inclined to start big.”

Byrrh snorted. “Alright. We’ll be methodical about it and start with the amplified phaser rounds.”

Blair frowned. “I wasn’t aware they had fate-seeking capabilities.”

The coronus just chuckled. “They do, and they’ve been launched.”

Blair rushed forward and grabbed the scope next to Byrrh’s window, positioning herself just behind the tripod. The scope had several indicators and a display that highlighted both the intruders and the incoming artillery. Both were moving so fast as to be invisible without the scope’s auto-tracking assistance, but Blair was lucky: The coronus had one of the best scopes available.

She held on with baited breath, the path of collision traced out by the scope’s interface. Come on...

The small, blue rounds streaked straight through the enemy, the air exploding around them with concussive force. Ko’la and one of the SPU’s generals enveloped almost the entire party in eggs of lightless black to defend against the rounds. When the party phased back, most of their number were heavily injured: Phaser rounds could hit even people turned incorporeal by Dark affinity.

Even so...Blair was crestfallen.

“They’re injured,” she murmured, stepping away from the scope.

The coronus frowned and stepped up to take a look for himself. “Yes, they’re injured...but already healing. Ok, we’re next trying three phaser rounds at once.”

Blair chewed her lip and took the scope from her superior. Now the enemy split into three groups, likely at the behest of their Regret practitioner. They scattered out and performed textbook evasive maneuvers, the little finned sticks they straddled proving adept at sharp twists and turns.

Even so, each group soon became the clear target for a phaser round, each blue projectile locking onto clusters of fate. Unlike heat or vitality, fate was rarely spoofed; if the glossy programmatics behind fate tracking were less esoteric, Blair figured fate-seeking weapons would be mainstream.

One group didn’t bother with using a Dark defense, instead forming a phalanx of three glosSword aegises. Blair clucked her tongue: the glosSwords probably would be able to defend against a single round of the phaser beams if powerful practitioners were empowering and layering them. The other two groups continued with the Dark defense, Ko’la and the general each defending a cluster of ten-or-so soldiers.

The beams passed through each group, yet again causing extensive but healable damage.

Blair snapped back to the present and immediately entered another scenario.

“This is a scenario. Coronus, they have powerful Dark practitioners and know enough about glosSwords to use them to defend against our phaser rounds. As expected, they have healers that work quickly to reverse wounds sustained from phaser bombardment.”

If the coronus was surprised by the sudden deluge of intelligence, he hid it well. “You’ve only tried the phasers, right?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “Here’s ten amplified phaser rounds, thirty piercing beams spaced over fifteen seconds, and an amplified blast from the fire elementalists in the central tower.”

Blair joined in his laughter, though the gesture felt hollow. Despite the lethality of their defense system, she suspected that the enemy would find a way to survive and reach the city. They won’t have come all the way from the SPU only to die to our standard defenses. Their Regret practitioner was probably instructing them to defend with the minimal force necessary in an attempt to hide their full capabilities.

It was an annoying, if valid, strategy.

And as Blair predicted, while the enemy once more sustained heavy injuries...they pressed onward.

But where is Dunai? she thought, scanning the group. She’d been certain that he’d be with them, likely cloistered in the center of their formation. However, as they drew closer, the decemancer was nowhere in sight.

“Coronus, Dunai’s missing,” she reported.

Unfortunately, Blair had let the time get away from her. Before Byrrh could respond, she snapped back to the present.

She snarled in frustration and entered another scenario.

Again!