“What's all this, then?” A bulky man in a gray constable’s uniform pushed himself through the crowd. “I was told there’s a debitor out and about in my…”

He suddenly spotted me and the reporters and his eyebrows furrowed. The constable’s metal-plated boots echoed on the white and gold marble floors as he approached me.

“You!” He barked. “Come with me! You’re causing a commotion!”

“Sure thing, constable," I replied.

I turned towards the reporters. “I’ll call you three as soon as I have something. We will meet up later in a less public location to hammer out the details of our contract and do the first interview.”

“Are you going to be alright?” The female scrivener asked, glancing at the hostile-looking constable.

Her snapper flashed again as the man's gloved hand grabbed me by the shoulder.

“Perfectly peachy!” I replied as the constable pulled me away from the reporters. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a deal with the steel-boots too!”

The crowd of gathered onlookers started to disperse, their eyes following me as I was dragged away from the center of the mall.

. . .

“Tell me, lowborn,” the constable circled me as he shoved me onto a rather uncomfortable metal stool in his office. “How did you get into the Diamondias Shopping District? How did you get out of Undertown? Did you find a hole in the barrier? Who did you steal a purse from to buy that uniform?”

Having something to sit on was nice, as uncomfortable as it was. My feet were killing me. Saccy was heavy. The stuff within her didn't weight much since Folding magic did something weird with weight, but the Folding Seed itself was heavy and very solid. I was already regretting letting Voltara go shopping with the princesses.

"Oh? Is it a crime for a lowborn to walk through Diamondias?" I raised an eyebrow as the constable finished his inquiry.

"No," he replied with a glare.

"So then why did you arrest me?" I asked, trying to suppress a desire to grab at the flask filled with filtered Topaz. "What are the charges? What law did I break?"

The constable's brow furrowed further.

"L-171. Mischief and public disruption," he stated.

I yawned. I did cause a bit of a commotion.

"Undertown denizens do not magically appear in Diamondias," he stated firmly. "Place your hand on the truth-sphere and tell me who your associates are. Which Guild do you belong to? How did you cross the barrier out? Tell me the truth! I’ll take it easy on you if you confess!"

“Ah, the truth,” I stretched. “The truth is that you took way too long to arrest me. I'm disappointed.”

“What?” He growled, his large figure suddenly looming over me.

He was about forty years of age and clean shaven. Slightly greying, black hair peeked from below his cap. His brown eyes dug into me, trying to tear me asunder.

“Do you know the concept of a secret shopper? Does the title of Asset Protection Specialist ring a bell?” I asked, pulling back my sleeve. “I’m sort of like that, except much, much worse.”

The man's expression changed when he saw my lawmaker’s armacus. He tapped it with his own in an instant.

“Agent Juni,” he said. “My apologies. You looked…”

“I know what I look like,” I rolled my eyes.

[Diamondias Plaza Inspector - Pomegrad Lima Zeendar.] An information window came through my armacus.

“I must commend you on that makeup,” the Inspector stared at my chubby face covered in pearlescent, blue-tinted bruises. “It looks very real. The tattoo smells just like the real thing too. I wasn't aware that the effect could be replicated with such fine detail."

“Well, what can I say? I’m a professional,” I smiled, stretching. “Now, as for my report.”

The constable gulped.

“I can let your tardiness slide,” I said. “If you become my best friend.”

Pomegrad looked at me curiously.

“Is she expecting a bribe?” His eyes spoke. "What does she want from me?"

His expression changed. Something clicked in his head. He had discovered that something was off about me. Something that didn't match. He tapped his armacus.

"You're an Agent of the Lomb Constabulary," he said after a pause. "What's a small-town Agent doing in Illatius pretending to be an Undertown addict?"

“Ah... that,” I said.

I placed my armacus-wrapped hand onto the truth-sphere embedded in the Inspector’s table. “I’m working on a very high-level case, you see. A threat against humanity.”

The sphere bathed the room with a green glow.

"Now for a lie... I'm a cute potato who dances in the moonlight," I said, the sphere tinting red.

Pomegrad’s face expression became that of deep concern. He recomposed himself in a few seconds.

"I don't understand. W-which department are you working for, Agent?" He asked. "The Imperial Inquisition? Or a specific Barony?"

"A Barony?" I laughed, holding my hand on the truth-sphere. "I won't tell you my department, but I can tell you that I'm as high up on the social ladder as Baroness Amadea."

"W-what?" The Inspector's eyes grew wide in shock.

I momentarily pondered about what else to tell him. He didn't seem as kind or understanding as Inspector Lambert and I didn't want to tell an Illatius-based Inspector about my knowledge of chimera.

"If you must know... I am the newest addition to the Order of the Prism Archmagi," I smiled, staring at him in the Astral and igniting my eyes with ember radiance from within. "I am the Eighth."

The truth sphere beneath my hand flashed with brilliant green. It was the truth - I was a high-cendai beneath Eunice just like the others.

"Y-you're a P-prism Archmage?" Pomegrad took a step back.

My truth-affirmed words were far more effective than I anticipated. Like a metaphorical club they slammed into the man. The Inspector's exigent appearance was torn asunder. The large, bossy, priory imposing man suddenly looked diminutive and respectful. He took a knee, bowing to me.

"Forgive me, your excellency," he said meekly. "I was... mistaken."

When he came up, his expression was that of an extremely obedient civil servant.

“How can I be of assistance, my Lady?” He said.

“I’d like copies of all of the tunnel maps beneath this district and any others that might be in your possession,” I said, letting go of the truth-sphere. “There is trouble brewing in the deep.”

“Of what sorts?” Pomegrad nervously tagged at his sleeve.

I put my hand back on the truth-sphere. "The truth is too dangerous for you to know, Inspector. Until I know more, I can't share any details. My enemies are great and powerful."

"You're hunting down a cult? An old one?" Pomegrad gulped.

“Yes,” I lamented with a dramatic sigh. “It's one of the biggest threats Illatius faced in two hundred years. I’ll definitely be working in the area for years, if not decades, sorting things out, incepting myself into a bunch of organizations and places. You're probably going to read all sorts of nonsense about me in the papers tomorrow. What you saw in the Plaza wasn't mischief - it was part of my plan to make a big splash with the Screnivers. I need to become visible for these organizations to notice me."

I let go off the sphere again, leaning back with a sigh.

“I understand," the Inspector nodded. "My archives and keys are at your disposal. Feel free to call me anytime if you require aid in your mission or backup of the Diamondias Constabulary. I will let my constables know that you are working the area in case you trip any of our wards."

“Thanks,” I said. “Don't worry… We’ll be seeing each other a lot. My mission in Nemendias will take a while. Speaking of wards, can you add me to the Diamondias District ward system?"

"Yes, my Lady," Pomegrad nodded. "Come to the control room with me. It won't take long - I'll tie your armacus into it."

My heart was beating rapidly as I got up and followed the bulky Inspector.

Being an urbexer has never been this easy!

. . .

"There, you should have no troubles passing through the back halls," Pomegrad said as I pulled my arm out of a very complex magitek contraption covered in gemstones and hexagrammic wards hilighted in gold ink. "Your armacus will be able to act as a master key for most of the shops, storage areas and tunnels into the catacombs. If you need access to the deeper, abandoned areas you can copy the old, metal keys from our archive backroom."

As the Diamondias Inspector finished adding me to the district's wards, a deep ache began to pulse in my muscles and chest. It was quickly becoming far beyond my tolerance. My heartbeat intensified without a reason for it. Illogical panic and worry started to drown out rational thoughts.

I look horrible. Everything is awful. So many people shamed me today. So many hateful, rude comments. So many highborn assholes judging me. I can't go back to that mall now... I can't. I need heaven... my paradise, my love.

I shook my head. These weren't my fears or worries, they were pushed, implanted into me by the Topaz cravings.

I thought of the quiet of the deep, of vast caverns beneath the city. Of dark, old tunnels. It helped drive away the irritation and dread. I readjusted Saccy's straps and winced.

"Could you show me the way into the catacombs?" I asked Pomegrad.

"Sure," He nodded.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom to change into my diving armor?"

"Not at all," Pomegrad replied. He was digging through his shelf for the maps. "The door is right there."

I emerged out of the bathroom in Juni's body and waved my armacus-covered hand to the Diamondias Inspector.

"That's a very striking… skull mask," he nodded at me. "You look… different. Taller, maybe? The debitor's smell is totally gone."

"I'm a master of disguises," I giggled.

The pain in my chest was growing distant.

I was managing.

I could win this game against myself, against addiction, against Illatius highborns, against Eunice and her seven archmage cendai.

No matter how old or powerful they were, they feared and disliked the murky darkness of the wet, malodorous tunnels. Unlike them, I loved, embraced the deep with my entire heart.

. . .

Pomegrad led me down several stone stairwells, each one darker, gloomier and less upkept.

An ancient rusty gate creaked open as he tapped it with his armacus. Leaving the bright stairwell room, we entered into the arcane crypts beneath the Diamondias Shopping District.

It was just as I imagined it. No... better.

The catacombs beneath Illatius were grandiose in their splendor and decay.

A few inches of water sat on the floor beyond the lit passage reflecting the mist-wreathed arches and columns.

I stepped through the water, my boots casting ripples and disrupting the still, mirror-like surface.

Ancient, arched halls extended into all direction, fading into obscurity. Water dripped from above in cascading rhythms. There was heart-stopping beauty all around me, a sense of age and decay - a prism into old layers of the city, segments of a place built thousands upon thousands of years ago into the bedrock beneath the city.

I reached out and touched the well-aged brickwork, peered at it in the Astral. The tunnels whispered a tale to me in my cendai sight and in my own imagination, revealing to me forgotten memories of incredibly old, nearly faded hexagrams glittering here and there.

"There's a way into Nemendias from here, yes?" I asked Pomegrad, peering down a long, foggy hallway, my voice echoing into the distant depths.

"Yes," he replied. "A few of the old, West-heading tunnels connect to the school. The way in is shielded by the Arcanarium's wards and gates. Only Nemendias personnel and pupils can move through the wards. The Keeper should have the keys to the old gates beneath Nemendias."

"Gotcha," I nodded. "I'll ask her for for copies. Now, is there a way into Undertown from here?'

"Yes," Pomegrad affirmed. "Tunnels C-25, J-19 and K-66 on this map are official ways that lead to Undertown. There are Guild outposts watching them from the other side. They charge three obliss for crossing."

"Are there other tunnels into Undertown?" I asked.

"Hrmm," the constable rubbed his chin. "Yes, the entire sewage system goes down there. Older tunnels are flooded or buried. The sewer lines are labelled green on the map. The storm drains are blue. I haven't checked if they are safe - the Copromancers and Engineers maintain the system."

"Right," I said. "Do you have their contact info?"

"Yes, let me transfer them to you," Pomegrad replied.

I offered the Inspector my wrist-bracelet.

"Transfer contact for Copromancer Wim Gogsmidth and Engineer Salii Acrebb," he said, tapping his armacus on mine. "These two are best ones for getting information on the old sections, which is where I imagine you are going."

"Thanks, I'll be sure to get in touch with them before I do any serious sewer exploration," I nodded. "Wouldn't want to get caught in a flash flood or a drain test."

"How old are you, if I may ask?" Pomegrad inquired.

"Old enough," I replied. "What's it to you?"

"My Scrutimancy senses are legitimately failing me," the Inspector confessed. "I've been trying to determine your approximate age and I'm utterly stumped. I can't even get a handle on your accent."

"You're not the first," I smiled, thinking of Lambert.

[Juniiiiiiiiii... Where are youuuuuuu? Aggie is driving me mental. She's locked us in a bag store because she's scared of the scrinivers. I'm tired of looking at magic Folding bags. Nothing is as big or as awesome as your Saccy. Please come save me,] Emerald's voice came through the armacus as I picked up the call from her.

"Coming right up, be there in a bit," I replied.

"I should be good from here," I rolled up the map of the catacombs, pocketing it. "I'll make my way into Diamondias from the nearest stairwell. Thank you for your assistance, Inspector Pomegrad."

The Inspector nodded to me. He waved at me as I trudged through the shallow water to approximately where my friends were located.

Thanks to my chimera eyes and Still-Walker sight the way forward was as clear as day for me, the walls and ceiling glimmering with millennia-old echoes of magical resonance imprinted into the stonework.

I picked up a few of the broken bricks and pocked them as I walked. I would have to see if this ancient stone was more magical or if my eyes were deceiving me.