Jonas was fretting, feeling horribly “naked”. His fingers reflexively grasped the one Fir Puppet in his pocket. He had two, but couldn’t touch both and use them, of course. The Aged Pine Puppet was in a thick mundane pouch, just isolated enough that the rules of the Labyrinth did not count it as being “used”.

If he got lucky, he’d be able to swap his mundane clothes for some gear and get a buffer of health as he ran away. If not… well, he was used to dying. At least he had 42% Lingering Death, meaning he could be resurrected after.

If they won.

His role was to be pitiable in the middle of the Queen’s Gardens, and he didn’t need to force himself to do it. Zhuangjing was at his side, her hand grasping on his shoulder in a gesture that conveyed possession and mastery. He wasn’t sure of how much of that was faked, and how much was genuine. Almost a month of being her prisoner did that, after all.

And, as if on schedule, people appeared in the distance, coming from behind the Queen’s House. And at the head of them stood a tall figure, which Jonas was seeing for the first time. And at the sight, he felt almost relieved.

Part one of the plan was looking good.

Mhambi Meshindi, God-King of the Zulu Confederacy, stood nine feet tall, a large spear as tall as he was at his side. Although Jonas had lower Focus than usual, the Presence of the King made his attire stand out even at that distance. Heavy golden leathers interleaved with metal chains and studs. Cashile had described it well.

“Except when he goes out into the depths to escort a new recruit in the trunk or help some group for a tier-seven very high-level Legend, he always wears the same gear. It looks like someone took traditional Zulu Impi garb, and refined it into a more martial reinforced form. He always conducts a ceremonial sort-of-dance in the mornings, a strange ritual. But what Zenzele saw of his vitals briefly, when he stole a glimpse of the descriptor and is much less than what he remembers when he was enabled for trunk guard,” the Zulu had said.

“How so?”

“We think the gear is several tiers lower than what he can use. He keeps it for some reason, ceremonial certainly. But that means, if he is using it, he will be a full tier, maybe more, lower than he could be in terms of potential.”

“And once any of his vitals drop, he cannot use his Puppet to recover the better gear,” Jonas guessed.

“That’s right.”

“It can’t be enough.”

“No. But that’s where Dingane’s refinement of the extenders come into play.”

“If they work.”

“They do. Even if your friends don’t affect further the way they work, they should be enough to cripple him further.”

The God-King walked unhurriedly across the Queen’s Gardens greenery, up until the point where the flattened expanse of the Gate reception area began, and where Jonas and the Chinese were waiting.

He stopped a dozen yards from them, looking slightly down. Up close, the immense Presence coming out of the Zulu ruler was almost physical. But then, a Steadfast Astute Vanquisher – based on the Zulu’s peek at his descriptor, which had been confirmed to be tier fourteen – was a primary Presence build. His effect would be lessened on Professionals, but at his levels, Jonas wasn’t immune. It wouldn’t change the way the numbers came out in a fight, but it was enough to unnerve a person, to make them make mistakes in the use of the Labyrinth skills. Everyone had sorted themselves based on Fortitude and damage potential, for the fight proper.

“So, you know why I am here. I find your choice to confront what is due strange. Did you expect to make a run across this?” Meshindi said, in Chinese, gesturing toward the Great Gilded Gate behind them.

“The Greatest Hero does not run. Against some Legendary fight where she would be outmatched, maybe. But you are not such,” she replied in English for Jonas’s benefit.

“I am a Legend of the Labyrinth,” he stated.

“No, you are not. You are merely a mortal man, elevated by chance to be a Lord of the Labyrinth, and nothing more,” she replied.

Jonas almost turned his head to look at her. That outburst… was not part of the plan. And alluding to the name used by those higher-tiers… But Meshindi didn’t remark on it.

“I am much more than any here are,” he simply replied.

“Zan Bhao can see the truth, you know,” she gestured toward her team’s defender.

“Seeing does not change anything,” he shrugged before turning his gaze on Jonas.

“Know this. If you had stayed a simple man, no ill would have come to your country for a decade or more to come. Until the Zulu would stand to your empire. But once the Labyrinth remade you, your fate was decided.”

Jonas almost replied, but nothing was necessary. Movements at the edges of his sight, Zulus shifting to emplace themselves… It was going to happen at any time now.

Mhambi Meshindi raised his spear… and a blast of white ice hit him in the face.

Ice Dart does 1124 (1165+1083-1124) cold damage to Mhambi Meshindi.

Zhuangjing had fired a spell. Again, not what the plan assumed. But at least, it came just in time for Jonas to avoid a hit that would have instantly killed him in his weakened state.

Meshindi stumbled, more from the surprise than the actual damage.

And Jonas bolted toward the side, rather than the Great Gate. He left his heavy jacket, trousers, gloves and boots on the ground, mundane clothes instantly replaced by heavy health gear. The Puppet that had been in his jacket pocket fell along with the rest, allowing him to plunge his hand in the bag, almost immediately adding a belt, cap, and two short swords that would do nothing for his Potentials, but were defender-oriented and CON-and-health-loaded.

The only drawback was that his health was ticking up very slowly to his new cap, his regeneration halved until Lingering Death expired in almost two days. But each second increased his margin, just as it increased the range between him and the Zulu unless Meshindi chose to follow and turned his back on the Gate.

The God-King did not.

If he had thought of doing so, the two… no, now three… emerald beams that had locked on the Zulu had instantly made him realize what was going on, beyond some useless symbolic gesture. And as Jonas reached the side of the Gardens, vaulting over some old wooden stands, he realized he’d come full circle. Rather than hiding from the street, he was hiding on that side, as a titanic battle was starting. But this time, he knew the numbers involved, the quirkiness of the Labyrinth. The fact that the watch stands offered nothing in terms of protection against the forces unleashed this time.

His part was done. Now, all he could do is watch, as Professionals poured out of the Great Gilded Gate to join the fight, their last stand again the Lord from the depths of the Labyrinth.

The Ice Dart was no more than a snowball in his face. Some of the High Lords had tried to introduce a new member of the community of the High Tiers to mundane fun, alien to someone who’d never left the plains of his African corner of the world, who had no one to show the silliness when he crossed the icy zones of the Labyrinth. He’d never understood that appeal of that idea. They were not kids.

But all the thoughts of useless defiance, a minor dent in his health totals vanished when he felt something else hit him. An emerald beam, reminiscent of the ones that the Gate Closers variants emitted, struck him. It didn’t do anything to his vitals.

Respecialization. NULL.

Respecialization. NULL.

Respecialization. NULL.

No, it did something much worse, which he immediately realized on his descriptor.

All his skill ranks were at 0. Even the skills whose ranks were increased by his gear were zeroed entirely, bringing him back to no better than a brand new Professional.

He knew about something similar. The 50th Adjustment Milestone, which would never come, where all your skill ranks dropped to zero once you emerged from the two-days torture of Adjustment, and you had to reallocate them, in any way your Milestones allowed you to. This… went the same way. And there was no impression of unallocated ranks on his skills, nothing to mentally raise back.

Well, he was not entirely devastated. He still had all of his Potentials. Several thousands of almost all important Potentials, and the bonus from the Milestones themselves. Then he realized something else. He had his Milestones bonus. But nothing else. None of the gear bonuses showed. No regeneration, no additional damages. Just the baseline values.

He ignored the triple notification, one for each beam aimed at him, dismissing them from his attention, and turned back.

“Get those beam sources…”

His Zulus were fighting. Fighting each other, by twos or threes slamming weapons on another.

Betrayal.

The enormity of it stopped Meshindi for a single moment, as he realized the full extent of the trap. His loyal followers were being betrayed by their brothers, while he, himself, was betrayed in turn.

He pushed back thoughts of punishment. He would have to do something, later. But first…

Ice Dart does 1275 (1322+1229-1276) cold damage to you.

Elemental Spray does 6636 (4411+2326-101) fire damage to Second-Rank Zhuangjing.

He never had that many skill ranks in that staple spell, but raw Potentials did matter for that one, and those, he did.

She stumbled as she was retreating, and another spell hit as she was trying to riposte.

Elemental Spray does 6636 (4411+2326-101) fire damage to Second-Rank Zhuangjing.

He was surprised not to see her fall. But without Gauge Enemy, his view of her descriptor was gone. She had… probably 18000 health. Barely more than half a percent of his total.

Elemental Spray does 5490 (4411+2326-101) fire damage, terminating Second-Rank Zhuangjing.

But the satisfaction of having dealt with her was fleeting for he could see, beyond the Chinese defender charging him after his mistress’ death, Professionals pouring out of the Great Gilded Gate, completing the ambush.

What Jonas had expected was finally happening. The team descriptor was updated once, twice, three times.

Team

Professions

Health

Mind

Jonas Sims

Resilient Spellwrangler (173)

1855/2471

1901/1914

Jonathan Gilbert

Calculating Guardian (183)

4903/4903

2688/2688

Ira Heard

Solid Guardian (168)

7226/7226

2541/2541

Guss Fullmore

Imposing Fixer (165)

3773/3773

3091/3091

Laura Harvey

Light Destroyer (162)

4310/4310

2657/2657

Alton Raby

Abiding Stabber (165)

2416/2416

1752/1752

Ira vaulted over the wooden stands, crouching just beside him.

“Like old times,” he joked.

“I hope I won’t have to see London becoming a battlefield yet again,” Jonas replied.

“Poor London. She took much these last two years.”

Jonas looked at the silvery armband studded with wires and a rosetta of Power Crystals strapped on his friend’s arm.

“That’s one of…?”

“Yea. Jonathan’s the one firing it at the moment. If he goes down, then it’s me, then Laura, Guss, Alton… in case it does something more, no sense risking all of us at the same time if He goes to kill the Negater bearers. The rest have their own separate order and teams to monitor, and are shooting from all directions, to maintain dispersion.”

“Does it work…”

“Nothing special on normal Professionals. Deschanel – yes, him, if they didn’t tell you – let us test it.”

“So it does negate your skills.”

“Resets all to zero. And zeroes the contribution of gear, save for Potentials and vitals. As soon as you turn it off, everything comes back instantly. I was hoping it would instantly kill someone if Adjustment used it, but no. Hope it changes if it hits someone with Adjustment.”

“None for me?”

“Takes time to strap it properly. You need, what they call it… conductance?”

Jonas's head turned back toward the fight. A large man defender, wielding a long sword that reflected the sun, despite the heavy cloud cover, had entered the fray and was very obviously using some skills to deflect Mhambi Meshindi’s attacks.

The defender in armour was obviously fond of skills to deflect damage to himself, Mhambi Meshindi thought. Few would let their off-hand empty to use things like Hold, Grasp and Redirect.

Hunting Plains Spear does 12201 (12921-720) physical damage to Nicolas Gide (7203 defence rating).

The Tooth of the Verkolian Worm does 1844 (3688-1844) water damage to you (38222 defence rating).

Mhambi Meshindi frowned as he dodged the sword coming for him. The defence rating was a bit high. That French Professional wasn’t wearing obvious artefacts beyond the sword and helm, but the defence rating was worthy of a full set of tier-six Legendary loot. And that sword had lots of damage, even if his armour was absorbing as much as it could in elemental effects.

“You are indeed a despicable enemy from the far depths,” the man – Nicolas – said, raising his sword to deflect again the spear.

For a second, Meshindi’s brain stopped again. The defender’s words were a mix of Chinese from multiple eras and what he knew was a Germanic expletive originally.

Sabir.

“You are a Lord,” Meshindi stated.

He raised his hand and pulled another effect. The melees were gnats, too many to attack even a giant of a man, but each hit was something that he’d not regenerate.

Burning Aura for 30 seconds. 415 fire damage reflected to any melee attack.

“So are you. 48 Adjustments? That’s harsh for a tier-fourteen,” the enemy Lord said as his sword slashed at Meshindi.

“So, Panomekon sent someone? You feel… underwhelming for such.”

“My wife and I were made Lords when the Gate in this Divergence opened. But we were stranded far, and have just found our way back. Imagine my surprise at finding a High Lord trying to take over. When our friends hear of this, they’ll be surprised.”

Meshindi instantly switched tactics.

Hunting Plains Spear does 12612 (12921-309) physical damage to Harlan Hawdon (3090 defence rating).

Burning Aura reflects 261 fire damage, ending Harlan Hawdon.

The God-King started sweeping his spear across the melee fighters, each strike inflicting huge amounts. More pressed.

Hunting Plains Spear does 12701 (12921-280) physical damage, terminating Martin Lewis.

His spear moved reflexively, not even selecting his enemies. Instead, his gaze turned left and right, ignoring the gnat pinpricks of damage on his health until he spotted a slightly taller figure in the distance. Without the powerful advantage of Gauge Enemy, he couldn't be sure, but one didn’t get two centuries of seeing gear from all tiers without getting a feeling for it.

This one. That's her.

He started, pushing with over close to six thousand of Strength the melee enemies trying to cage him aside, spear slashing horizontally. The French defender turned, trying to follow, and then noticed the direction Meshindi was moving towards.

Freezing Spike does 4632 (3220+1711-299) ice damage to Anne Gide. Movement reduced by 20%.

Prismatic Spray does 6638 (4411+2526-299) ice damage to Anne Gide.

The woman started to backpedal, realizing she was singled out. The damage notifier all but confirmed that she was indeed the other Lord.

Firespark does 322 fire damage per second to Anne Gide.

Hunting Plains Spear does 12323 (12921-598) physical damage, to Anne Gide.

She survived a second slash, but the Firespark lingering burn proved too much. At the last second, Meshindi thought the combined healing of the raid facing him had enough time to refocus, but they were lacking decades of Legend hunts, practice as a well-trained team that amplified one’s efficiencies beyond those numbers from the Labyrinth.

Firespark does 141 fire damage, terminating Anne Gide.

He turned back toward the Frenchman, whose face had firmed.

“You know she'll be brought back.”

“Will she? Who will do that…” Meshindi replied flatly.

“You think you can win?”

“With you gone, I have more time,” he replied.

Endless Flurry

Environment/Offence

Rank 0: Your next attack is performed four times, for 100% of its damage. Costs: 4 aether per base damage.

(Skill is locked until aether is regenerated)

Endless Flurry does 50964 (12921×4-720) physical damage to Nicolas Gide (7203 defence rating).

Prismatic Spray does 6587 (4411+2536-360) earth damage, terminating Nicolas Gide.

“He’s not going for you,” Jonas finally said.

“No. He probably guessed there’s too many firing the suppression to deal with,” Ira said.

“How many of those things do you have?”

“The Zulus had brought about fourteen.”

“Only?”

“Maybe they're hard to make,” Ira shrugged. “We’ve equipped teams with tier-five, who might survive one hit at the range, but are otherwise worthless in damage.”

The defender facing the Zulu staggered, as the spear made a cross-shape, then a second one immediately afterwards. Then the Zulu raised his hand and delivered a point-blank bolt of brownish elemental effect that Jonas recognized as Elemental Spray. It looked as if his favourite spell was also prized by high tier Professionals, even non-spellcasters.

“Lord, it’s a massacre. Even defenders can't withstand the damage.”

The spear slashed across a dual-sword user who fell instantly. Meshindi raised it and brought it down, only for it to be stopped in its course as another mail-clad man stepped in.

The figure who stepped forward to cross spears with Meshindi was familiar.

“Since when did you plan this, Zenzele Cothosa, Honoured among the Chosen Ones?”

“Since the day I found you did not choose as you claimed. That only the Labyrinth choose.”

“Is that all? Surely...”

“I have seen your changes. The way the Zulus look upon the so-called Chosen Ones, the way the Chosen Ones look upon Zulus. That is not the Zulu soul.”

Hunting Plains Spear does 12191 physical damage, terminating Xiong Su.

“It is the Way. There is no other way. I’ve seen what happens to the Zulu soul,” Meshindi stated.

“Are you even true Zulu to judge thus?” Zenzele asked back.

Hunting Plains Spear does 11997 physical damage, terminating Émilien Côté.

“I am. Even if I would not be born for another 30 years if True History had been followed.”

“Then why? Why did you come? To impose your might upon your ancestors? To rule where your line never did?”

“Because you are doomed as you were. When I was young, even I did not know it, despite the fact that the doom of the Zulu was already marching toward us.”

Hunting Plains Spear does 12726 (12921-195) physical damage, to Waldo Aubert.

Burning Aura reflects 402 fire damage, ending Waldo Aubert.

“But we no longer follow the course of True History. We never did, once the Gates opened. Surely you must know this,” Zenzele said.

“And it does not change anything. I did this, Zenzele. I came, not to profit from my history, but to remake yours. Because all histories end up the same way. Unless the Zulus are remade, the Labyrinth is never theirs.”

Hunting Plains Spear does 12668 (12921-253) physical damage, to John Henry Blackeye.

Hunting Plains Spear does 5889 physical damage, terminating John Henry Blackeye.

“And you stepped in, and you got lucky."

"Luck had nothing to do with it. You will realize this,” Meshindi replied.

Zenzele Cothosa frowned, as he barely deflected another spear strike on the hammer-bearing man next to him. Meshindi launched a kick, unpowered by a skill, sending a Zulu sprawling with several thousand in damages still. A Manchu hammer-build slid into his place, bringing another hit that Mhambi Meshindi ignored, a pinprick nearly fully absorbed.

Slam does 389 (3887-3498) physical damage to you (38222 defence rating).

“So you do not expect to win? Or did you intend to bring me back to gloat after your victory?” Zenzele asked.

“I do not intend to bring you back. That is not the point.”

“Then what is the point of this fight, if you know you lose?”

Hunting Plains Spear does 10554 physical damage, terminating Noël Touchard.

“Salvaging what I can of my work. Because this isn't a fight for me. This is a fight for you,” Meshindi explained.

“What?”

“You were supposed to become the strongest. To be ahead in tiers. But being ahead in numbers will do. Quantity has a quality of its own, so it is said.”

Hunting Plains Spear does 10233 physical damage, terminating Torgan Chigu.

Zenzele’s confusion was written on his face, and Mhambi Meshindi smiled.

“Let them deal with their fallen, and just bring back the brothers you betrayed. This is my last... counsel.”

He raised his spear high, and Zenzele braced himself for the coming hit.

But the figure of the God-King didn't strike. Rather, it simply toppled and hit the packed ground, before lying still. The handful of melee fighters still standing staggered back in surprise.

Zenzele stopped himself from hitting the figure at his feet and breathed heavily before kneeling.

Mhambi Meshindi

Deceased, 5 days, 18 hours, 7 minutes

Health required: 2,981,885

Yes

No