It was a peculiar scene. There were dark-green plastic loungers scattered around the backyard, which was mostly dirt. The slab of cement that had once been a porch was cracked from years of neglect and shifting earth. Further back, there was a grill that was more rust than metal, absent a propane tank. A slimly built, stodgy man in white and gold armored robes was seated in an oversized deck chair that vaguely resembled a throne. A golden circlet adorned his forehead, keeping the hood of the robe pressed tightly against his skull.

Another man stood beside him, wearing thick leathers, with a weighted bo-staff slung over his back. He was holding a notebook and a pencil, and was writing into the notebook with enough ferocity and irritation that I half-wondered if it would catch on fire. He’d gelled his blonde hair until it stuck to his head flat.

Given the position of power, I was guessing the man in the robe was Roderick, and thick-leathers was Bob.

I hoped there was more. A lot more. Because if this was all there was to Roderick’s lodge. Multiple injured men holed up in a crackhouse, with their leader bickering with a merchant outside? We were in a lot of trouble.

Kinsley had planted herself in front of both of them, hands on her hips as she gave them three different shades of hell. “You already owe me. I had to step out of the shadows and put myself in harm's way because you idiots would rather let your people die than use the site.”

“Roderick’s Lodge had an exclusive relationship with our merchant—“ Bob interjected

“Who is… where?” Kinsley looked around dramatically. “Are they off gathering lux? Or on a bathroom break? Do you see another merchant here, Bob?”

Bob’s sulking expression intensified and he fell silent.

“We are obviously appreciative of everything the Merchant’s Guild has done to fill the gap, considering our current circumstances. We are already in your debt.” Roderick said, all pomp and gravitas. “It is only natural that we would return the favor when the opportunity presents itself.”

“And what I’m telling you, Roderick,” Kinsley spat, “Is that I’m already marking things down as much as I can. As low as the system allows me. Fifty percent for healing items, sixty-percent for gear.”

“We have many irons in the fire, and the beginning of operations that will bear fruit after the transposition event. Would something like a delayed payment be possible?” Roderick asked.

Kinsley’s face tightened. “Are you seriously asking for credit?”

To Roderick’s credit, he seemed to be handling Kinsley’s acerbic nature fairly well, but from the way his cheeks turned red, I could see her constant mocking was a bridge too far.

I intervened before Roderick could say something he regretted, and walked further out into the open. “Problem?”

Roderick reacted immediately, holding his hand out toward me. Instead of a wand, he held a crystal globe with drilled out finger holes, the whole presentation oddly reminiscent of a bowling ball. While I was observing Roderick warily, Bob had unslung his weighted quarterstaff and brandished it in front of him.

I kept a casual air. “Take it easy.”

“You’re trespassing,” Bob growled.

“Unless you’ve been using the chaos of the actual-fucking-apocalypse to delve into the real-estate market, I’m pretty certain this house is still on the market. We’re all trespassing,” I said.

“He’s with me. This is my colleague—uh…” Kinsley trailed off.

“Myrddin,” she finished, giving me a funny look.

Both Bob and Roderick relaxed. Roderick didn’t rise, just remained seated, keeping his kingly facade at the forefront. He pressed two knuckles to his jaw. “Ah. One of the nameless associates. And here I was, beginning to wonder if they actually existed.”

I grimaced internally. This was already demonstrating one of many reasons Kinsley’s reveal was poorly thought out. Any organization without a merchant would be looking to lock her down, and a User-centric group like the Lodge would probably prefer her online market be taken down completely.

Nice wasn’t going to cut it. Guys like this didn’t give a shit about cordiality or manners. Projecting strength was the only thing that would work here.

“Spent the last six hours scouring the city. Haven’t really had time to sit around and look intimidating.”

Roderick let the shot go without comment. “And what success did you find?”

“Nine lux, delivered to the receptacle five minutes ago. Plenty of witnesses around to corroborate that. And what success did you find?” I asked, letting sarcasm into my voice.

The moment I voiced the question, Roderick’s face turned dark. There was a squeaking swish as the glass door opened behind me, and two men stepped out from the rear, standing just in range of awareness, both muscled and heavy.

Bob visibly scowled and took a step towards me.

I hit him with and drove a mental spike of intimidation into his neurons. Bob stopped, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. Roderick noticed immediately, his body tensing. He didn’t raise his spell focus again, but kept it on his lap, aiming vaguely towards me.

“Kinsley was looking between everyone present, her face a mask of confusion at the change of air in the room. “Sorry, sometimes he doesn’t play well with others—“

I dug deep for the voice, finding it quickly in the darkness. It was a voice that had always been with me, whispering in the back of my mind, mocking my mistakes, sowing doubt after doubt.

“Not much, then. Pity. I only have one question.” The entire group tensed at the danger in my tone as I spoke. “If my guild leader was bluffing. If she was… alone. What were you going to do when the transposition event was over, Roderick?”

Roderick stared at me, his brow furrowed. “It would be best to mind your tongue, and consider your circumstances.”

I let out a low, sinister chuckle. “Why not. Let’s do a quick rundown. There’s a particularly high fence, blocking out prying eyes. A house full of injured Users. Two bruisers behind me. Bob. And you, Roderick. Only, Bob looks a little put off for some reason. I know his type. He’ll hesitate just long enough that he doesn’t matter. That makes this three on one.”

“Hardly even odds,” Roderick countered.

“For you.”

Kinsley caught on to what I was doing almost immediately. “Myrddin, we need as many people as we can to help finish the region’s receptacle. Don’t kill them.”

“This is all posturing. He’s one man.” Roderick scoffed. Everyone else didn’t seem so sure.

“Yeah. That’s probably what the last group said. Want to see how that worked out for them?” I reached slowly towards my belt, accessing my inventory and navigating the crowded window until I found what I was looking for. With a motion as unremarkable as if I were dropping unwanted litter on the ground, I dropped a User core.

Roderick’s eyes followed it as it plopped to the ground.

“He jumped me right after I found my first three lux. Tried to pin me down while his girlfriend and friend took potshots from afar. I saved him for last. He begged for his life, and pathetic as he sounded, I almost considered it.”

I dropped another core. “This one thought he and his buddies could throw me around because they’d been mainlining strength. Wailed for his mother at the end. Had no idea that was a thing that people actually did.”

It was impossible to know if anyone present could identify items from a distance, but just in case they could, I selected the higher level cores.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t set out to hurt anyone when the event started. But everywhere I go, they just keep… getting… in… my… way.” One by one, I dropped five more cores with each word. Bob’s face grew paler as each plopped to the ground.

“Could have picked those up off corpses. People who already died from something else.” One of the bruisers said. He sounded anything but confident.

I reached into Bob’s mind with again. This time, I sent him a vivid image of me, slaughtering everyone present with casual ease.

“Maybe, maybe not. The cores are a rare drop. One-in-four, one-in-three at most. There’s really only a couple of possibilities. Either I’m full of shit and somehow miraculously survived when everyone around me was dying. Or I killed a lot of people today. What do you think, Bob?” I asked, turning my full attention on the man.

Bob, as uncomfortable as he looked, managed to avoid completely losing his composure. He retreated to Roderick, leaning down to whisper in the other man’s ear.

The role felt disturbingly comfortable. A natural fit. I’d spent so long trying to keep my presence small and inoffensive that it was liberating, in a way, to play the villain. I kept unflinching eye-contact with Roderick as I spoke. “It makes no difference to me what you choose. Killing Users isn’t much different from killing monsters to me. The Users just bleed more. Better yet, I’ve discovered I have a talent for it. So, the question you need to ask yourself is a simple one. Am I fucking bluffing?”