While I technically could fly straight to The Wayward Oasis, it would frighten a great number of civilians, as a big fucking dragon flying right over one's head tends to have that effect. Intellectually knowing that such a being is on your side is one thing, but overcoming the primitive lizard part of the brain that makes you run and hide before you fully process what is happening is a challenging feat for most. I answer to no one, but that doesn't mean I should not consider the sensibilities of others when it comes to my own actions. Additionally, a short stroll from one of my shrines in the city to the location of the night's festivities will provide me an opportunity to take in the nature of life around these parts.

The first thing of note is that, other than for kobolds, there are very few children, even for it being night. World's End is not a normal city, but one that people need to be invited to, and it sprung up from seemingly nothing a short while ago, all by my own efforts. Only the most skilled and useful of craftsmen and service providers were invited, and with there being so many to choose from, I favored those that had no children, or ones who had children that were well into adolescence or adulthood. War is no place for children, and with this city being on the frontier in somewhat dangerous territory, I don't want to expose them to undue risk.

One may expect the red-light district to play a little loosey-goosey with the law, but considering my daughter runs it, everyone knows better than to test her wrath. There are no merchants with their stalls set up on the street or sidewalk, no piles of trash, no restaurants with chairs and tables outside. Everything is kept clean, and the thoroughfares are free of obstruction, all so that people going about their business can travel with ease and comfort. Such a public space, utilized for personal gain, rubs me the wrong way.

However, I do allow for people to carry crates with their wares, usually with some sort of harness and straps to hold it in place, such that they may still be ambulatory and offer wares to customers, provided they are not too pushy. I have facilitated plenty of proper shops in actual buildings for serious perusing and purchasing endeavors, so the ones out walking the street tend to offer simple and pragmatic things like food and drink.

I see newer faces this time around. I don't recognize their colors, their fashion, the general theme of attire that these particular mercenaries call their own, so they must be new in town. It almost brings a tear to my eye as I witness one dare to litter, then be called out on it by a group of kobolds, to which he directs them to perform undignified sexual acts upon themselves, which culminates with them beating the shit out of him and then making him pick up his trash and put it in a nearby waste receptacle. Truly, the populace is learning to be good stewards of their environment, either through personal "re-education" or through the examples of those who show such proper respect for their community.

I have eyes and ears everywhere, for my [Overseers] and [Observers] have undergone a hefty amount of upgrades, such that they almost have the same mechanics in how they work, but more importantly, I can maintain a great number of them. I also have a few whelps tasked with patrolling the area, and all the kobolds swear their fealty to me (whether I want it or not). And it is through this medium of receiving and processing a great amount of sensory input that I get a nagging feeling that something is amiss.

It is hard to pin it down exactly, but something is afoot. At first I think it could be a heist, for there are a good number of people that seem to be looking at certain places in particular as they stand around, or a few people that appear to be casually going about their business, but they are looping through the same territory. Some people are twitching, usually in the fingers, but that could also be a result of any number of legal and illegal activities or substances.

I am not the only one to notice this. Many people are subconsciously putting hands on their invisible daggers at their hips. Enchanting invisibility on daggers and the sheath and straps that hold them to the body are a staple of the roguish types. As arguably the most powerful person in the world when it comes to enchantments, I can see right through the invisibility. Chooka even has a pair, but hers are of better quality in that they also use more illusions to correct how such straps would press upon the skin and deform it slightly from a natural look. Most people here are not so inclined to go the extra mile with their budget, but most people that have such equipment tend to also have some sort of danger sense in their Blessing. While nothing overt is happening, the people are not as carefree, and indeed, their eyes dart around as they look for threats they cannot detect.

It only gets worse as I get closer to my destination. One person is on the verge of a panic attack, with her friends trying to comfort her. Another person is hurrying away, not like a person does after committing a crime, nor like one would when in dire need of attending to nature's call, but more like one would when sticking low and fleeing from an unseen predator that stalks in the darkness.

"Fear is building up." Skull informs me with intrigue laced through her mental voice. "It is not of or towards anything specific, but a general unease that is continuously amplified by one person's distress compounding upon another's. The people here are not average, for they all have done much to advance their Blessings. They should be capable of holding their own in a brawl, and they should be familiar with tense situations. For them to be so riled up, something big will happen soon."

She confirmed my suspicions, and already I started relaying orders with my whelps to assemble response teams. While nothing overt is happening, I am treating it as if the city were under attack by covert operatives. And it may well be, for every day at World's Hope, our bastion that seals in the breach of our world from malevolent forces from beyond, people are discovered to be traitors.

The question is, what sort of flavor will it be this time? Will I face imposters that have replaced my own citizens with identical-looking agents of the enemy, mind-controlled individuals, cultists that have pledged their loyalty to the enemy, or something profoundly more esoteric?

If it turns out that this was all just a misunderstanding, then people will gather at their favorite watering holes and laugh about it. If my instincts are right, then I need to be proactive and not reactive. I move at full speed, changing my course to the center of the city. Like an infection without observable symptoms, the fear spreads, for everywhere I look, not a soul is relaxed. In short order, I make it to my destination. It is certainly a tight fit, but I transform into my draconic form and awkwardly try to position myself with my neck and head pointed upward. I am rather large, and even though my streets are wide enough for four wagons abreast, with sidewalks on each side, it is hard for me to fit in such confines, much less move. As dragons go, my figure is actually rather lithe, so that just amplifies how absurdly large I have become.

However, I do manage, even though my attempts may be undignified. Without hesitation, I employ two Skills. First, I blast the entire city with my [Aura of Certainty]. I have had time to master it, and while I would not say I am a grandmaster, I certainly know a lot more of how to use it properly. With focused intent, I use it to invade the privacy of everyone in my territory. It does not use words, but it transmits intent and my general attitude towards each person. It also reveals much of who they are to me, as if all cards were on the table and we talked matters out.

Through this Skill, everyone in range, which is the whole city and then some, knows that I believe we are either under attack by unknown agents, or that one is imminent. Counterintuitively to most, I order the general masses to leave their homes and to congregate into nearby shelters, with the idea communicated that we need to be vigilant of interlopers in our midst. I also call all responders to service, that each reports to his or her assigned area to be ready for anything.

And lastly, and arguably most importantly, I identify each and every person that is not on my team. Every spy, foreign operative, smuggler, cultist, monster in disguise, or other such entity that does not recognize me as the rightful authority figure over them in this city is magically branded with glowing runes that showcase such disloyalty. This will undoubtedly lead to a purge, and it will not be good for the morale of the populace. They may see this as my failure for allowing things to get to this point, or that my Skill and its application is too heavy-handed, as it is rather invasive and uncomfortable. Their former friends and acquaintances will be revealed as enemies, which will certainly hurt a lot of feelings.

They may mourn and wallow in pity later, for I intend to keep them all alive to have such a bad day in their immediate future. I cannot, I will not allow my city to fall to attacks from within.

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Secondly, I unleash my [Breath of Holy Purification], a breath "attack" of sorts that doesn't really hurt anyone, unless you are a being of corruption, in which case I imagine it hurts tremendously. From my mouth, a golden cloud, radiant and resplendent with holy lightning within it, wafts through the air and descends all around me. It grows and expands rapidly, the mass of it spreading at an accelerated rate as it reaches for every last corner of my city as it eagerly seeks out filth and corruption. It doesn't literally clean the streets and buildings (not that they are dirty, for my enchantments and kobolds see to that), but it does purify the area.

Any corruption and desecration is purified, and poison or toxin is cleansed (much to the dismay of people with a good buzz going), and detrimental effects that originate from nefarious magic are generally purged. Naturally, this effect is contested by the strength of what it is up against, but considering that my Skill is highly specialized and backed by the powerful Blessing of one of the most powerful Emperors the world has seen in a long time, not much can resist it.

My observations, through various Abilities, have shown that my [Breath of Holy Purification] is working like a charm. Various squads of underlings, mercenaries, and concerned citizens alike pounce upon the interlopers in their midst and apprehend them, sometimes violently. All is going well, so perhaps my evening will not be irreparably ruined.

"My Father and Emperor," came the telepathic voice of my daughter, Tamadora. I detected hints of shame and irritation in her voice, like one may feel when hosting a great banquet only for a good friend to get shitfaced and knock over the pyramid of carefully arranged glasses of sparkling water. "Violence has broken out in my holdings, and imposters have infiltrated my staff. Some of my esteemed guests are under the influence of some manner of mind control."

I knew exactly to whom she referred, for while telepathy was difficult to spy upon, it was not impossible. Certainly, she also spoke around the issue to also hide her shame at not adequately protecting those most precious to me. My whelp near her allows me to witness what is going on, and Tamadora is engaged in a rather large battle with a whole host of "Devspawn", the new and popular term for imposters made from Devourers that take on a humanoid guise. She is indoors, and so cannot assume her draconic form to fend them off, which limits her combat capabilities in terms of scale.

Though she is young, she is no slouch in a fight, nor is she lacking in practical experience and training. Nanu trains her every day in the art of combat, and Tamadora often makes sorties to World's Hope to cut loose and slay the enemy wholesale. She is also not known to show much restraint in defeating her foes, for her temper is rather legendary in these parts, as is her capacity for violence.

The enemy dies by the dozens, with dozens more pouring into her establishment to replace them. Nabonidus is there with her, his staff crushing enemies while he looks almost bored, as if this were more of a troublesome chore than a fight for survival. With his capacity to see into the future, it may well be a trivial exercise to defeat the feral rabble. However, they are both rather tied up in protecting the employees and holding the front door. I don't know how the enemy managed to do any of this without us noticing, but the security features that should lock down the building with heavy gates and plates of obsidisteel have failed to trigger.

I suppose it just goes to show how powerful, clever, and patient the enemy is if they managed to pull one over on us. I am certain the interrogations and after-action investigations will be most enlightening, but none of that will help solve the problem in the immediate sense. I do wonder why Nabonidus did not warn me about this, but perhaps the best course of action was to not warn me, or perhaps he is busy fighting an invisible battle with other [Seers] and the like.

No sooner had Tamadora explained the situation than did I transform back to my mortal form and book it towards The Wayward Oasis. A nearby kobold approaches me and uses some sort of Haste Ability, which triggers my Skill, [Fools Rush In], which ultimately allows me to piggyback on that Haste. The poor guy collapses almost instantly as his mana bottomed out, for he has to pay for my use of his Ability, and considering how metaphysically big I am, I imagine he will not wake up any time soon, and he will wish he could remain unconscious for how big of a magical hangover that will cause him.

He deserves a raise, and with my newfound speed (not that I was slow to begin with), I make my way to The Wayward Oasis in under two minutes. I could have been faster, but I have to dodge all manner of people, many of whom are also not using the ground as they run upon walls and rooftops. The Haste wears off when I arrive, and without delay, Skull and I unceremoniously start clearing a path into the building as we cut down Devspawn and cultists alike. I could just partially deconstruct the building to make a clear path, but considering some of the enchantments on the building have been compromised by the enemy, I don't know what nasty surprises may lay in wait if I make such an attempt.

Unfortunately, the enemy forces are so frenzied that they are immune to fear, and they show no signs of valuing self-preservation. I have to open pocket dimensions on the floor just to suck up dead bodies, for they are piled so high that I can barely make any headway. Skull holds the doorway itself as soon as I enter, her powers amplified greatly by the mass of Fear that has descended upon the populace. I more than trust that she can hold the door for me.

As bodies are cleared into my waiting pocket dimension, I come to face Tamadora. She is cleaning up the last of those who have entered the building, and the scene is gruesome. Everything everywhere is coated in blood, gore, and viscera. While she is not wounded, thanks to her natural regeneration as a dragon, she may be strained. These assailants were not chumps off the street, and surely they all wielded powerful Abilities of their own. I know she did not use her Voice, for while it is powerful, its effect is weaker if she overuses it. Ergo, she knows better than to waste it on the opening fight.

Nabonidus slumps into a very sloppy lotus position, his body stooped and his head lowered in concentration and fatigue as he struggles in a battle that I know nothing about.

"Help him!" I command my beloved daughter, who rushes to obey without question. It need not be said that she should protect him and do what she can to supply him with mana and ease his burden.

That just leaves me and a handful of whelps that have flocked to me. I do have an Imperial Whelp with Chooka, but it has been incapacitated, which speaks volumes about how intense things must be where she is. The fact that I cannot see into the room, in my own domain, is also very troubling. I don't know what is going on or how things got so out of control, but my draconic mind is wired to focus on achieving outcomes instead of lamenting the circumstances of misfortune. So, undaunted, I continue forward.

Customers and staff in various states of undress are crowding the hallways. One may think that they would be panicking, but these people are all professionals. No, they are fighting even more cultists and Devspawn, many of which appear to have been customers. A whole host of Abilities are flying in every direction as powerful magics are unleashed, but I lend my aid only when it does not slow my progress. Some fare better than others, and so my whelps are dispatched to tend to those who are losing ground.

All of this feels too intentional. My allies are stripped from me one after another. Something pivotal will happen, but considering how strong and tough I am now, I don't know that it will be so direct. While the enemy may not be able to kill me, they could make a devastating blow by killing those I care about.

This is almost certainly a convergence of Destiny and Fate. Destiny concerns the start of events that will come to pass, the setting of some scene and the people gathered. To be more precise, a Scenario is unfolding, and the Actors are gathered. Whatever choices we make will determine our Fate, which is the ultimate Outcome that prunes away future Destinies. Nabonidus is an [Oracle], and [Oracles] deal with Fate. It is no coincidence that he has had difficulty seeing it as of late and that he is now engrossed in a battle, such that he cannot be here to influence events favorably.

In short, I do not like how I have been played like a fiddle, dancing to the tune of my enemy. I'm not sure if both of those analogies make sense together, but you get the idea. As a mature dragon, I am not filled with anger at such a transgression, at least not in the moment, but rather I am filled with focus and the drive to act. There is no anxiety, but rather, a clarity of purpose, that I will be the one to determine the Outcome.

As I approach the room where those precious to me were meant to have a party, I am surprised to see the door is still intact. Using my [Spatial Manipulation], or at least the Skills of that Lesser Focus, I distort the space around the door, warping and stretching it such that the door looks squished down to an inch of width. Without hesitation, I step into the room.

"Oh thank goodness you are here," came the voice of a distraught and haggard Serideth. "It was so dreadful and frightening."

There is a lot going on in the room, a lot to take in, processes, and assess. While my many minds are tackling that, Serideth wastes no time to rush me, her disposition and posture aligned with the actions of one rushing in for a hug.

She is someone I care about, and so I open my arms to receive her, for she started her movement for me the moment she saw me and started speaking. I see tears stream down her face as she looks smaller and daintier than perhaps I have ever seen her before.

At the last moment, before her arms enveloped me, her butterfly knife appeared in her hand, and said hand was moving fast and right above my heart. Without hesitation, but strangely, a great deal of distress, she slammed it home up to the hilt.

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