Thud.

Alex dropped to the floor below, shielding his eyes against the fluorescent light emanating from stones embedded in the walls. He sat Mari down as he got a feel for the room around him, both with his eyes and with his magnetic senses. A long tunnel wrapped around the corners on both sides of the hall, and a rotten stench burned his nose.

They were in the sewers.

"Great," Alex whispered, taking note of the several ladders running down the hall.

"I think it's time we got some answers." Bolton held the man at gunpoint.

"That might be a bad idea," Alex said, his eyes roving the halls as he expanded his magnetic sense.

"What's the issue?"

"This isn't the only tunnel."

"I don't want to tell you guys how to do your job, but—"

"And you ain't going to tell us," Bolton said, pushing his gun back up into the man's chin. "Now, find us a room. We're going to be staying a while."

The man gulped but started walking. Bolton put his gun to his back as they led the way, and Alex followed behind. Mari held his hand as they walked. All in all, they had to be the oddest group in Grim Aegis, but that didn't matter. The man was their first chance at some real answers about what was happening on the island.

What concerned Alex more was the layout of the area around them. The walls looked like they had been hewn straight from stone, and the tunnels above looked much the same. Claw marks marred the walls, making Alex wonder what could have carved out the tunnels.

That question didn't change as they stepped through a roughly hewn hole into a more traditional-looking sewer system. The thug led them onto a walkway next to a flowing stream of dark green water. The sour scent of waste worsened. Alex shook his head. They had to be inside to create such a large operation focused in the sewers. Though he doubted that the guy's boss cared about his health.

"In here." The thug led them through a door and into a small room with rows of cans that Alex guessed were food supplies.

Clack.

Alex closed the door behind them, giving them some protection from the sewer's smell. A single glowing stone lit the pantry as the four of them stood inside. Once they were secure, Bolton gestured with his gun at the man.

"I want to get out of this alive," the man said, holding up his hands. "So I'll cooperate. I just want a guarantee you'll let me walk away when this is all over."

Alex shared a look with Bolton. He wasn't against letting the man walk, but it had problems. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't run to whoever had modified their memories and turn them in. What they needed was secrecy, and the man couldn't promise that. Ultimately, the man would be a loose string waiting to be pulled.

"I'll give you a guarantee," Bolton said. "I guarantee that I won't deposit some lead in your belly if you start talking."

"W—What do you want to know?"

"Start with the basics," Alex said, leaving Mari at the door and stepping forward. "Who's in charge?"

"That'd be Mister Deadman." The man didn't meet Alex's gaze. "He's in charge of the operation here."

That didn't bode well. Alex didn't have a clear memory, but he recognized the name. An image of bones and a massive bug-like form filled his head. It wouldn't be his first run-in with Mister Deadman, and his body remembered that the fight hadn't been easy.

"And what exactly is 'the operation' doing?"

"We're just guarding stuff down here." The man stepped back. "Our job is to keep the base safe."

"Yeah, but what's the base for?" Bolton asked, his gun held steady and pointing unerringly at the man's stomach. "You don't go around running massive operations in the sewer for no reason. No one wants to be down in a place like this unless they have to."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" the man asked. "Weren't you a smuggler or something before you became an outlaw?"

Click.

"Ain't your business."

"Just answer the question," Alex said, stepping between them. "I can do a lot worse than him just shooting you."

"Oh yeah? You going to burn down an island around me?"

"Hah," Alex shook his head, stepping closer and splaying his hands wide.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Bzzt.

Blue light flickered across his fingertips as a grin set on his face. He made sure to get close, too close to let the man be comfortable. Alex had to convince him that there were much worse things than death.

"Imagine what it feels like to have a small lead ball conjured into your eye," Alex said. "It bulges out, swells. You can't blink because your eye swells up too big. You can't feel it, but you can't see out of it either. Eyesight gone, just like that."

Snap.

He snapped his fingers.

"And that's just the beginning. So many places on the human body can't take a little bit of metal. That's all without killing you. There's a reason they call me 'Tin Man.'"

"Cursed." The man gulped. "This is why people don't like your kind."

Alex wasn't sure he could actually do it, but the man didn't need to know that. There were natural restrictions to curses that made it impossible to affect other people directly. Alex could do some really horrible things when it came to metal, but creating it inside someone else's body just didn't seem to be possible.

"Whatever people think doesn't matter," Alex said. "All that matters now is what we can do to you."

The man looked between him and Bolton, but there was no doubt in Alex's mind. He was going to fold. When faced with two wanted men, there was little choice. He sighed, nodding once as he deflated.

"Alright, alright," he said. "I'll tell you what's going on. Just don't hurt me."

"Well, get started." Bolton smiled. "I'm not sure I can convince my associate to keep calm."

Charles stepped outside, lighting his cigarette and taking a deep drag. He could scarcely believe the scale of it all. He had done his own jobs in the past, being part of major smuggling rings and extortion operations. What they were doing in Grim Aegis paled in comparison. He might have stayed to play along if his goal hadn't been the Dark Meridian. However, that was out of the picture. He had his own destination.

Clack.

Ortega stepped out from the small room, rubbing his hand before nodding to Charles. Charles offered the outlaw a cigarette, but Ortega held up a hand to refuse. Charles tucked his pack back in his pocket. He would need more soon if he wanted to stay awake.

"He out?"

"Out and tied up," Ortega said. "I don't know what we'll do with him, but we shouldn't stay here much longer. If he's right, half their entire operation will return here soon."

"You don't think we can take them on?"

"Not if Mister Deadman is with them, not at the same time."

"We'll have to deal with him." Charles put his hand on his revolver. "Otherwise, he'll squeal."

Ortega grimaced, and Charles frowned. He had never in his life met an outlaw that detested violence so much. Ortega seemed ready to do everything but what he should when presented with a simple situation. What would it cost him to end the nameless thug in the room?

"You're a coward," Charles said. "I ought to just pull my curse from you and leave you senseless."

"I don't know if that would leave me any more senseless than I already am." Ortega sighed. "It doesn't feel right to kill him when he's giving us the information."

"But if we don't and he gets found, they'll know they've got the two of us running around free." Charles raised a finger. "That's step one to us getting killed."

Ortega looked down both sides of the hall.

"You're not wrong," he said. "But there's another option."

"Oh yeah?"

"We take him with us wherever we're going to figure out the next part of our plan."

"And what exactly is that?"

Ortega didn't have an answer, and Charles knew it. The problem in front of them was an impossible task. The entirety of an island united in keeping them out of the Core. Memories trapped within gems guarded by a veritable army. A mass of thousands of spiders ready to respond any time those gems were destroyed. The entire deck of cards was stacked against the two of them.

They couldn't even run. If they ran, those memories would be severed forever. It was free everyone or free none of them. Charles didn't like it one bit.

"It feels like we drew all the worst cards." Charles took another drag of his cigarette. "I just want off this island."

"Islands have a way of trapping you in." Ortega shrugged. They all have problems, and it's hard not to get involved."

"The abyss you're talking about?" Bolton shook his head. "You stop on an island for supplies, maybe a few parties in a bar, and then leave. That's what they're here for. Who in their right mind gets involved with what's going on there?"

Ortega gave him a look that said he had done exactly the opposite of that.

"What kind of outlaw are you? You burn down an island. You tear up Tartarus, but you don't want to kill one guy? And now you're telling me that you try to get involved on every island you stop at? Sounds more like some meddling do-gooder than an outlaw to me."

"I didn't say I try to get involved." Ortega crossed his arms. "It just ends up happening somet—often."

"Uh huh." Charles shook his head, pushing his drawl into full force with a sickening tone. "Look. I ain't in this for the same reason as you, but I recognize that we'll be cooperating for the duration of this situation. But we should shoot the guy in the back of the head and be done with it. Dead men tell no tales."

Ortega looked away, and Charles considered the argument won. Whatever they did from this point forward, he didn't want to leave a loose end running around. He put a hand on his revolver as he reached for the door.

"I'll handle it if you're unwilling to. All you need to do is look the other way."

"Wait." Ortega grabbed his hand.

Charles raised an eyebrow at him, but Ortega wasn't watching him. Instead, he looked down the hall. Charles squinted and focused on listening.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Someone was coming.

"Get in." Ortega pulled the door open using Charles's hand, following after and shutting the door.

The kid sat on top of the thug, who was tied up, gagged, and unconscious. Bolton had to give it to Ortega. He might not have been a murderer, but he at least knew what to do with a captive. Unless the man had some curse, he wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Alex." The kid stood up. "What's happening."

"Quiet, kid," Charles hissed. "We don't want trouble with whoever's coming down that tunnel."

"Especially with how many there are," Ortega whispered. "Just give it a bit, Mari. They'll pass by."

Snap. Snap.

"They're swarming for nothing. A waste of time, you hear!" a man yelled as footsteps rang through the tunnel. "Get everyone back down and in the main room. Keep away from the doors. We need to get back in place before they swarm back inside."

"Yes, boss!"

"Don't let anyone get caught up in the swarm," the man continued. "It would be uncool to sign them off because they lost their memories."

Ortega locked eyes with Bolton and nodded. That was an option that wasn't killing the man, but it wasn't putting them at risk either. If the man had his memories snatched, he would be in the same situation as Ortega without Bolton's curse.

All they needed to do was put him in the right place and wait.

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