Mister Deadman breathed heavily. His latest form, the compression of his bone chimera, was just another part of his second-level curse, but it was a necessary adjustment to its massive size. That he had to go into his regular chimera form first wasn't cool, but the entire thing was just a slapdash fix until he had more time to practice. Ortega had already taught them a valuable lesson in their first encounter.

He couldn't stay the same forever.

Clack. Clack.

"Like all the Erth," he whispered, snapping his claws as he looked at Ortega. "Things can't stay the way they always are. That's what this is all about, you hear? It's time for things to change, to start going our way!"

"That's everyone, isn't it?" Ortega sighed, stretching out his arms.

Bzzt.

Ortega waved his arms in circles as he looked down on Mister Deadman. Mister Deadman tilted his head. He knew Ortega. The outlaw had to be planning something.

He wasn't just going to try and run out the clock.

"Coin Barrage."

Ortega pulled his hand up into the air, and Mister Deadman narrowed his eyes. His armor wouldn't be pierced by some coins tossed with magnetism. He smirked.

"You losing your cool there?"

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The first coin slammed into his back, and Mister Deadman didn't budge. The second hit the back of his head, but his bone helmet deflected the blow. A third slammed into his leg and then fell away.

"You must be," Mister Deadman said, shaking his head and stepping forward. "Why don't you try and fight me instead of this coin toss? Be a man!"

Thanks to his form, he couldn't jump after Ortega. However, he hoped to goad the outlaw into coming in close. If Mister Deadman could get a hold of him, he could rip Ortega limb from limb.

"Give me a second," Ortega said, his hands swirling around him as he looked down at the floor below. "I'm not used to controlling this many at once."

After a moment, he nodded.

"It'll have to be enough," he whispered as he jumped down.

Thump.

There had to be some sort of plan. Ortega had given up the high ground against Mister Deadman's limited form far too easily. He licked his lips as he considered what the plan could be. Surely, it wasn't just the coins.

"What's your game?"

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"No game," Ortega said as more coins slammed into Mister Deadman.

Clack. Clack.

He was lying. Mister Deadman knew it but couldn't see a way for Ortega to win. He marched forward as more coins crashed into his body. He eventually reached Ortega. Then, with one of his pincers, he cut off the man's head.

"It doesn't matter to me," Mister Deadman said, raising up a claw. "I'll kill you all the same. You can be as cool as you like when you're rotting in a grave!"

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Coins filled the air around him, far too many to count. Mister Deadman marched through them like they were a swarm of bees. Mister Deadman would win the day with his armor and defense, regardless of what Ortega could throw at him. If the outlaw just stood there, blood dribbling out his nose as he controlled the coins, Mister Deadman had no doubt he would win.

Clack. Cla—Ting.

His claws closed around several coins as he tried to raise them, clacking them together in anticipation. His entire body was moving slower. Thanks to the weight of his changed form, he hadn't noticed it, but it was more obvious now.

The coins weren't hitting him and falling off. They formed an armor around his chest between himself and Ortega. They wrapped him from his chest, down his arms, and to his legs, pushing against his body and adding more weight with each coin.

Thanks to the coins covering him, he had transformed from a bone man to a coin man.

"I see," Mister Deadman said, stopping his push forward. "Even I can recognize when I'm beat. I thought I'd play it cool, but you found a way around me again."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

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"I wouldn't have been able to do it if you were in the big form or hadn't gone to your second level." Ortega smiled as more coins slapped into Mister Deadman's body. "Controlling all these won't let me move much."

Clunk.

"I see the problem." The weight on Mister Deadman doubled, and he fell to one knee. "Don't think I won't forget this, you hear? You better be ready to kill me!"

He couldn't release his form because he would immediately be crushed by all the coins and the fatigue that came from the sudden withdrawal of the concentrated aether. He couldn't move off the coins either. They were being held against him with the power of Ortega's magnetism. He couldn't reach Ortega either, so he lost.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Clunk.

He fell to his other knee as more coins fell onto his body. Ortega came closer, shuffling forward as he whirled his hands around. His eyes locked onto the coins around him. He wasn't even looking at Mister Deadman at all.

That was the problem, wasn't it? Mister Deadman had trained to fight Ortega after their last fight. He had even developed a new form. Ortega looked past him, though, like he wasn't a problem.

Clunk.

He fell back onto a bed of coins as more stacked onto him. The weight pressed hard against his armor, and the coins wouldn't disappear when he finally broke. His bones would only provide room to breathe for so long. The moment his bones were gone, he was done.

"Going down in an avalanche of gold," Mister Deadman said. "It could be a cool way to go, or it could be horribly uncool."

"Dying's never cool," Ortega whispered, and Mister Deadman watched him drop more coins across his chest. "But sometimes you just can't avoid it."

"Good luck with the other Fingers." Mister Deadman smiled as his gate sputtered in his chest. "You're going to need it."

Alex stood over the pile of coins as Mister Deadman's form collapsed. It wasn't a pretty death, crushed under the weight of an entire bank's coins. The coins weren't doing all the work, though. Alex's magnetism pushing down on them had increased the pressure enough to kill. The coins were just the medium.

Clatter. Ting. Ting.

He pushed them off with a wave, revealing the man beneath. Bruising covered his face, but his suit hid most of the damage. Alex didn't like killing people. If he could avoid it, he would. However, Mister Deadman was the kind of challenge that he couldn't just leave walking.

He knelt and rifled through the man's pockets, eventually grabbing the remaining gems from his pockets. When he was done, he left. He didn't want to stick around if what Mister Deadman had said about the other Fingers was true.

Sayed and Bolton stood across the street as he came through the door. Alex held up the two remaining gems, green and purple. A wide grin spread across Sayed's face while Bolton spit in the dirt.

"I'll be happy when you find mine, and I can finally get some sleep," Bolton grumbled as he crossed the street.

"You will find your time," Sayed said as he followed Bolton. "We all have our own story to tell, and you can hardly do it without memories!"

Bolton frowned as Sayed laughed. Alex shook his head. Bolton looked like he had been dragged through a blender. His hair was wild, and his mustache frayed at both sides. One of his eyes had a twitch, while the other was locked cold with dark bags under it.

He had to admit, under different circumstances, the man was odd enough to have been a part of his crew. If he hadn't witnessed the murder back on Dry Turtle, he might have even considered it.

"So what will we do now that we have won?" Sayed stopped laughing, his head tilting up with his hands on his hips. "Do we break the gems now or wait to do them all at once?"

"Later." Alex pocketed the gems. "We don't know if the others are in danger or not. If what Mister Deadman said is right, we need to get to a safe place, out of sight."

"What did he say?" Bolton said slowly. "I don't want to have trouble I don't know about."

"He said other Fingers will come down soon." Alex shrugged. "He might have just been trying to get me to run."

"Then we best skedaddle." Bolton patted his pockets and then frowned. "You did make sure that he's not coming back, right? This 'swordsman' let his opponents live."

"He's not getting back up, ever." Alex shrugged.

"You see, that's how you deal with a threat." Bolton gestured at him while nodding at Sayed. "You don't go around sparing people that go against you."

Alex frowned. He didn't like being held up as a standard for that. He had done what was necessary, in his eyes, and nothing more. Taking pride in it or being happy with it wasn't on the table.

"Do you just get off on murdering people?" Alex asked.

Bolton turned on him, the same wiry look in his eyes. He was a man on the edge, and it wouldn't take much for him to break. Bolton's one non-twitching eye looked between Alex and Sayed before finally resting on Alex again.

"I do what it takes to survive out there. That's what all of us outlaws do." Bolton threw his hands wide. "You go and take what you need to thrive and give anyone who stands in your way a dirt nap! That you or any of your crew thinks there is another way shows you've had it too soft until now. Once you head into the Core, you'll understand. The Empyrean is no place for weakness. Power speaks, and it's kill or be killed!"

He dropped his arms to his side, breathing heavily. Alex shared a look with Sayed. Sayed's mouth was in a thin line, and all of his normal jovial nature was gone. He understood as much as Alex that Bolton was a threat to all of them.

If working with him hadn't been what allowed this entire thing to happen, Alex might have seen things Bolton's way. He and Sayed should be able to kill him, and it would keep him from being a threat in the future. However, uncertainty cursed Alex.

It wouldn't be right, even if it were an advantage. He couldn't see the end of Bolton's actions. It just wasn't his place to decide. Killing a person in a fight was one thing, but this would just be a murder.

"Don't be eager to deal out death," Alex whispered. "Even the wise can't see all ends."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just a paraphrase." Alex shook his head. "We don't have time to argue about this. We need to get the others if you want your memories back."

Bolton frowned, and for a moment, Alex thought he might draw his gun. However, he just stuffed his hands in his pockets. Alex nodded, taking one last look at the street before they headed out.

Three knights lay strewn across the ground, along with the corpses of countless gem spiders. Two of Mister Deadman's underlings lay near the opposite building, and coins littered the rest of the street.

The crowd on the far end of the street had dispersed during the fight, though Alex could see a brave few peeking out from the sides of buildings.

Lastly, his eyes lingered on the empty black hole that had been the entrance to the counting-house. In that darkness, Mister Deadman lay dead, crushed by Alex's own hand.

He'd be fine, especially as it wasn't the first time he had needed to kill an opponent, but he couldn't deny that it bothered him. He turned his back on the hole and started off down the nearest alley, Sayed and Bolton following behind.

They had to finish the plan, regardless of what had happened below.

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