Clang.

Alex knocked another guard into the nearest wall with a push of his arm and an inflection of willpower. The number of guards was already thinning out. Alex didn't want to imagine how many people would need a doctor after it was all over.

Huack-tah.

"Bunch of fodder." Bolton stepped up behind Alex, his revolver holstered and his hands in his pockets. "All they're really here for is to waste time."

"They need to do more than that," Alex said, looking down at the guard crumpled against the ground before him. "Unless they're delaying us for some reason."

"Maybe they've got reinforcements riding in," Bolton said.

"Maybe," Alex said, looking down the wall at the homes down the street.

The area was largely empty except for the guards. Alex didn't doubt that anyone who wasn't essential for defense had already been converted to labor. He didn't know exactly what was going on through the gate, but he suspected that it was the real reason that they had taken control of the island in the first place.

Otherwise, why face down the Empyrean over one island?

"Come on," Alex said, turning away from the guard and heading toward the second wall.

They ran for a few minutes through the clear streets. Alex's nerves stayed on edge, but no more guards popped out to face them. They had beaten through all the resistance, as near as he could tell.

"What's that?"

Bolton stopped, his hand grabbing hold of his gun and his eyes pointing directly toward the top of the wall.

Alex followed his gaze and saw the man standing on the wall. He was pale and small, a thin pole of a man. He had short black hair, and his fingers pushed a pair of glasses up his nose as he looked down over them. On his left and right stood five archers on each side. They had arrows leveled down at Alex and Bolton.

Alex didn't need anything more to see the threat. However, he wasn't worried. The arrow tips lit up in his senses across the wall. The heads were made from metal. It wouldn't be any different than deflecting bullets with his magnetism or sending the knights flying.

However, that didn't mean he couldn't use the time to gather some information.

"Hold there!" the man yelled, and Alex stopped raising his hands.

"Why are we stopping?" Bolton hissed beside him, though he raised his hands as well.

"Check him out," Alex whispered.

"You are invading the land of King Lopold, placing yourself in opposition to his noble rank and the machines above it. Give up now, and we might spare you torture before you die. Keep fighting, and we will make your deaths as painful as possible."

"He's talkative for a controlled whelp." Bolton spat.

"Assuming he's being controlled at all." Alex stepped forward before raising his voice. "Who am I speaking to?"

He was far away, but Alex could swear that the man narrowed his eyes. Alex squinted, but he couldn't get any better detail. He'd have to get closer if he wanted more.

"I am advisor to the king, and speak on his behalf!"

"That doesn't say a speck," Bolton said. "I think you're right. He's not being controlled."

Bolton dropped his arms, and Alex grimaced. They weren't going to get any more information now. In his senses, he felt the arrows shoot off. Only moments later did he hear the yell.

"Fire!"

"Get behind me," Alex said, raising his hand and closing his eyes.

He imagined a dome of force around himself and Bolton. From that bubble, he reached out to each arrow as they approached. Tendrils, invisible, shot out from his bubble, smacking the arrows away as they approached.

Clatter.

The arrows fell around them, and Alex sensed the archers setting up another volley in the distance. He could stand there until they ran out of arrows, but he suspected they would just go and get more. There were better ways to solve the problem.

"Can you get behind some cover?"

"I can." Bolton raised his revolver.

"Go," Alex said. "I'm going to get in close."

"It would be easier to shoot them with some metal." Bolton sighed, but shuffled off toward the nearest building.

Alex didn't contradict him. However, there was no reason to take the easy route. He leaned forward, running close to the ground with his magnetic bubble surrounding him. More arrows rained down from the sky, and more tendrils reached from his bubble to knock them away.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Swat. Clatter.

Alex kept running for the wall. The portcullis was down, but he wouldn't bother sending it back up. Instead, he would go for a more direct route to the top of the wall. As he approached the stone and another volley rained down, he focused his gaze on the top of the wall.

"Step."

His legs disappeared in a flurry of motion, carrying his body with them. He jumped the distance between the bottom of the wall and about halfway up. His foot touched down on the wall momentarily before he leaned forward again.

"Step."

A second time, like his foot had hit the ground a hundred times instantly, he blurred and disappeared. He reappeared at the top of the wall, dropping down on the stone buttress as he regained his balance.

A nearby archer gaped at him, while others raised their bows to aim arrows at him. Alex gathered in a deep breath to replenish his aether before pushing out with a wave of magnetism.

"Force Wave."

Clatter. Crash. Thud.

Arrows flew from hands, and metal breastplates sent the archers flying on both sides. However, the advisor didn't move in the wake of the wave. Only his glasses rattled on his face briefly, before one finger raised to balance them again.

Alex didn't have any doubts then. Whoever the advisor was, he wasn't just a normal person. Of the Fingers who remained, there was only one he was likely to be.

"You look different," Alex said, clenching his fists.

"I'm a man of many faces." Mister Tyson smiled, extending his arms from his sides and bowing forward. "I was hoping not to meet you, though, Ortega. After last time, I never wanted to see you again."

Alex had basically rolled Mister Tyson in the last fight. Granted, he had an object that had amplified his curse enough to stand up to a commander without blinking, and Tartarus had been made entirely of metal. However, that didn't change the outcome of the fight.

Alex was a little less confident without the device.

"So, are you going to run again?"

"Unfortunately, I can't." Mister Tyson shrugged, looking over his shoulder at the scattered archers. "I know better than most precisely what you are capable of, Ortega. There's only one person we need to stop on this island for the plan to succeed."

"Hah." Alex shook his head. "And you think that's me?"

"Heh." Mister Tyson smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger. "I'm not sure I understand the skepticism. I've never been more serious about an assessment in my life."

Alex narrowed his eyes. Electricity buzzed through his body. He was ready for a fight, but Tyson's words gave him pause. While Alex had come up with a plan, he wasn't the most essential part of it. Each one of his crew needed to be in the right place to pull it off. They were all essential.

"Oh, you think I am joking?" Mister Tyson smiled. "I read our file on your Ortega. I know everything you've done up to this point. I daresay, I know more about you than even yourself."

"I have a file?" Alex's eyes widened.

"We have one on you, at least." Mister Tyson shook his head. "I imagine the Military Police have their own dossier. Maybe other organizations as well. We're not the only ones to operate across the world, after all."

"Oh, what's it say?" Alex asked, taking in a deep breath.

Mister Tyson lowered his arms and clenched his fists at his side. Was it fear that he saw reflected in those dark eyes? Alex couldn't be sure. He couldn't be that scary, at least not to a Finger. They were all monsters of some kind or another.

"You are responsible for August's destruction," Mister Tyson whispered. "You single-handedly toppled the king and killed everyone on the island in the process."

It was true, to a point. Parts of the file were missing then. Alex had destroyed August by overloading the island core, and the resulting chaos had allowed him to escape a secret lab beneath the island's main city. That chaos had resulted in a lot of deaths, but there hadn't been much he could do about it at the time. He had an Apostle, Lucien, on his back at the time. Just escaping had been a miracle.

"Then what?"

"Then you disappeared for five years," Mister Tyson said. "No one knows where you went."

Alex did, but Mister Tyson didn't need to know.

"You reappeared on Tombstone out in the Fringes six months ago, where you proceeded to topple some outlaw who had taken control of a town," Mister Tyson said. "I heard the town got a good payout for the bounty."

That had also been for an island core. Once Alex had the information he needed from it, it just needed to be buried. Everything else he had done there was largely incidental.

"Then, you overthrew Gulantry on Glory Plateau with that swordsman. That made two islands destroyed by your hand."

That one had been an overloaded island core, causing a Black Spot. The island had been swallowed by the Outside, though it had taken some time for the full effect to take effect. Erin wasn't in the file. In his mind, the island's destruction was just as much her fault.

"After that, you show up again when you stole a ship from the Military Police. You interrupted one of our operations in Death's Yard before finding your way to Diamond Peak. You're the one responsible for Roald's message being broadcast. You forced us to change entire decades' worth of plans."

"To be fair, I didn't know that," Alex said. "When you have a secret organization, can you be angry when someone messes up your plan? Not like you have warning signs."

"Hah." Mister Tyson shook his head. "A valid point in a more rational world. However, Lord Baccia has no care for excuses. If you interfere with his will, he will respond with violence."

That was a name Alex wasn't familiar with, so he filed it away in his mind. He doubted he'd get more than that minor detail from Mister Tyson. However, it might be important someday.

"Then, you came to Tartarus. One man tore one of the largest bases in the nightsea apart piece by piece. You didn't kill all the soldiers, nor destroy Aherlow, but you wreaked havoc."

"I had a reason," Alex said, knowing the name of that reason, Arcee.

"Whatever your reason, you then show up to Grim Aegis, escape Miss Malone's memory manipulation and overthrow our entire operation." Mister Tyson frowned. "I don't know if you're keeping count, but the common problem in all of these is you."

"I'd rate it fairly accurate," Alex said. "The question is, do you think you can stop me?"

"I think I have to." Mister Tyson extended his arms wide as a line of flames fell out from them like a waterfall. "Miss Malone may not understand, but I see it. If you aren't stopped, you'll tear this entire operation apart. Rebirth Wing."

Blazing bright orange, two lines cut through the air from his arms, like flapping wings. Alex threw his arms forward without thinking, and electric blue lights flashed before him—a mental wall formed in his mind.

Bzzt.

"Steel Wall!"

Hiss. Shick.

Two lines slammed into the wall. The metal warmed under Alex's hand, but not nearly enough to be worried. An instant later, Alex released it in a flash of blue light, only to see Mister Tyson standing across from him.

Fwoosh.

"I would allow them to surrender, but I know better than to leave you alive, regardless of my orders." Mister Tyson stood wreathed in flames, highlighting his entire body in an orange light. "Whatever your reasons, you're chaos incarnate."

"Sounds like there isn't a choice." Alex smiled, cracking his knuckles as he took in a deep breath.

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