By the time Nestra drove by the Burning House, the sun had long set and the few diners hurrying inside wore thick coats. Neon flames licked the building entrance, providing no heat.

There was a metaphor there but Nestra was not a poet.

Parking wasn't an issue. Neither was getting in. It didn't matter that she was a little underdressed for Threshold's prime steak venue when her eyes just opened all the doors for her. Being on the privileged side of the class divide would never not be weird. For decoration, the restaurant favored bricks and a decidedly Tex-Mex aesthetics. Very old school. The main room was fully open with ovens clearly visible at the back, near the kitchen, where their legendary brisket was prepared to perfection. It was a far cry from Threshold's usual preference for private rooms with round tables, Chinese style.

Nestra would think that a gleam crossing half the planet to come to Threshold would want to try, she didn't know, local stuff not readily available back home? Malaysian or Pinoy dishes maybe. Sighing, Nestra joined the table where Valerian and his guest waited wearing near-identical smiles that didn't reach their eyes. Valerian looked a little nervous. As for the newcomer, he was… glacial. As planned, Valerian stood to give her his seat in a rather awkward arrangement. That was why people most preferred private rooms.

"Nestra, glad that you could join us. This is Alexander Reynolds, my esteemed colleague. He's a combat medic associated with a university I am contractually obligated not to name."

Right. And Nestra was a baboon in a wedding dress. That guy was B-class, and not a baby either. A smooth aura of cold seeped from him in a way that made other diners reflexively shiver — though the temperature itself wouldn't show it. There was something else there too but she couldn't tell what it was his arctic glow concealed.

"Nice to meet you," Alexander said, thin smile never fading.

"Alexander already knows who you are, my friend," Valerian continued. "And with this, you are introduced. You will forgive me for leaving but my shift begins soon, and my duty is done. Have a pleasant evening, you two."

With one last nod to Nestra, Valerian left. Nestra sat down. She gave him a frank look.

Both ice gleams but he was comparatively stronger. A two class difference was a jump between freezing a room and a city block.

"So, you had questions about my core?" Nestra asked.

Alexander didn't reply. He was wearing a nice suit that fit tight over his lean, muscular build. Definitely a fast fighter like herself. He shared the blond hair and conventionally handsome charm Val displayed, but his felt sharper. The constant melancholy hanging over Valerian turned into haughty disdain here, a resting arrogance that never grew to embers of anger. Even his consideration for her felt distant rather than hot, like he would never take anything personally.

Since he was taking his sweet time which was a power play, Nestra grabbed the printed menu from a rack. Ah, a paper menu. Classy. She'd never actually gone to the Burning House because, though excellent, it was overpriced, and she could sear a good sirloin herself. A single wagyu cost over 400 fucking credits and that was with no drink included. At least it came with home-made fries. Right. Well, she could afford it for one evening.

Around her, the hubbub of conversation provided a comfortable sound blanket. Despite its cost, the Burning House remained a spot for baselines. There were a few groups celebrating one thing or another, and even an entire family down to the toddlers occupying a table at the edge, children sometimes chasing each other. From time to time, someone would dare a glance in her direction. There were a few other gleams but none that screamed 'dynasty raiders' the way Nestra and Alexander did. It kind of stung to be grouped in the same pack.

Real raiders had their own, more exclusive venues.

"Thank you for seeing me, Miss Palladian," Alexander finally said like he hadn't been stalling the conversation.

"Oh you finally woke up?" Nestra replied. "Nice."

The two exchanged a glance. Nestra didn't like games. If this was under normal circumstances, she would have walked out the moment he started playing, but there was something to be learned just from the conversation. Like what he wanted to begin with.

"I was wondering if you could share more about your missing core issue, and if it was resolved to your satisfaction?"

"It was. Have you considered contacting my aunt? She is the one who led the whole core repair project."

"Ah," Alexander said, leaning forward. "But I am more interested in the 'patient' side of the issue. I read the academic paper, of course. Liquefied neutral mana, a fascinating concept. Your aunt is the investor, however, while I concern myself with the 'human' side of things."

His tone delivery was strange: smooth, calm, endlessly distant. There was an abyss between the world and who he really was, and she wasn't sure if it was about her or if he was like that even with his own kin.

She didn't like the stress on 'human' either. Probably just her imagination or it might just be a subtle dig. She'd seen interrogators do it as well.

"Well the doctor told me my core had been present but something had damaged it, pretty early in my life apparently. He doesn't know why and neither do I. I don't remember any traumatic event that could have led to this."

That would be in her file if he'd managed to access them. It was always better for her, when lying, to stick close to the truth. She wasn't a very inventive person. Or a good liar, for that matter.

"Indeed?" Alexander asked with all the excitement of a government clerk at 6PM.

"Indeed."

"We were wondering… actually, before we begin I should probably tell you what my research focuses on," he continued.

Even his hesitations were fake. Riel.

"My colleagues and myself research transformation gleams adopting a holistic approach. You have few of them here but back home, it's an epidemic."

It took some effort not to correct him. Something made him smile anyway.

"Quite dangerous and unpredictable. Oh, we don't blame them of course. It was not their choice, and they simply cannot help themselves during… episodes. And they do have their use as productive members of society when properly… contained, so we are only trying to help them fit in, but it remains that they are dangerous. There have been tragedies, some quite recently with terrible losses of life. Chicago, not a month ago. But that wasn't a separate incident. Our duty as users is still to protect society, including, in some cases, from ourselves."

He smiled again. He'd grown vaguely more animated during his rant.

"Think of the children, right?" Nestra replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You understand. The people are panicking. They need a strong response to assuage their understandable concerns, and my associates and I merely seek to address them."

"Who are your associates?" Nestra asked.

"Oh I think you may have heard of us. We call ourselves Rebirth, or rather, I belong to a group within Rebirth whose focus happens to be transformation gleams. Our mission has a broader dimension, if you will. After all, transformation users are but a small part of the raider population, itself only a fragment of mankind. If an end goal is to be pursued, it ought to benefit everyone."

"Very lofty," Nestra commented.

"Shoot for the stars and you might end up in heaven," Alexander deadpanned.

I'll send you to heaven you cocksucker.

"To return to the transformation problem," Alexander continued. "We have studied everything from environmental to social aspects, belief systems, genetics…"

"That doesn't sound very scientific," Nestra commented.

"Ah but au contraire. We left no stone unturned. Isn't that the essence of science?"

"Pretty sure it's about hypothesis experimentation conclusion or you pick up a lot of garbage along the way, but do go on," Nestra replied, slowly losing her patience.

With perfect timing, a slightly scared waiter came to take her order. Alexander jumped on the opening.

"Good of you to eat meat. It's really good when recovering from a serious wound."

"You don't need to explain nutrients to me, Alex."

"Ah, yes. I heard you love cooking."

Nestra waited without reacting. That was very direct of him.

"I'm sure we will get to your point soon enough," she told him in an encouraging tone.

He remained completely impassive.

"In our search, we came to wonder if there was something tainted about the worldwide mana, and imagine our surprise when we realized ambient mana was significantly higher the closer one went to Threshold."

Nestra raised a brow.

"I thought that was common knowledge?"

For the first time, Alexander flinched.

"Apparently not."

"Wow. Ok. There are more portals here as well, by the way. The two are related."

"Yes, I knew that."

Nestra shrugged. It was a cheap jab, but she'd take those.

"My associates and I have petitioned your academic circles to inquire why the mana concentration would be higher around your city, yet they provided no satisfactory answer. Would you happen to know why?"

Nestra smiled.

"The field of mana studies isn't exactly my specialty, but I know just a bit about history. Have you considered that Threshold was established here specifically because it was an area with a great number of portals, access to the sea, and on a landmass that was, as of then, unclaimed by any nation? It's convenient, really. Want iron ore? Aluminum? Rare earths? Everything we could possibly want is but a raid away: the raw materials of the world at our fingertips within the safety of our walls. Riel, I heard we could even get oil and coal if we wanted."

"That strange vernacular again. I don't know if I should be happy that you do not call the name of God in vain, or sad that you would worship the hero Riel like an idol."

"Just a mark of respect. But don't worry, you can swear however you want here. We're very open like that."

"Very open indeed," Alexander replied in a perfectly neutral tone. "And I suppose your explanation makes sense, yet we received some undue resistance when we asked to access the, ah, epicenter of the phenomenon."

"Imagine that!" Nestra deadpanned. "And where might that epicenter be?"

"I think you know. It's right under the Beacon."

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Of course they knew about the bridge, but like Ragnarok had told Nestra, most if not all governments were aware. They just didn't want to be asked to act by their citizens when the truth came out.

"So you asked to get into a secure location? Ah, I like this about you Americans. Very direct, very audacious. So refreshing, sometimes."

Alexander was quiet this time, which surprised Nestra a little. He sounded like the kind of person who had an answer for everything.

"You know it shouldn't be surprising. Most of the old guard here came right after the fall of Riel so you can imagine that they don't hold any other government in very high regard. Feeling a bit… abandoned perhaps."

"We offered a treaty," Alexander replied between gritted teeth.

"A treaty!" Nestra mocked. "While the world burned! Offer the first gens a treaty since you're so good at it then."

"I see we are getting a little sidetracked," Alexander said in the same neutral tone.

Perhaps his composure had reasserted itself.

"Did you have a real question or are you just taking the piss?" Nestra asked, laying the Threshold accent a little thick.

"No, of course not, my inquiries reflect my heart, I assure you. It might be strange but I do have an interest in you… as someone whose core was damaged yet persevered. My associates and I believe you can be an inspiration to the people."

This time, his smile showed teeth.

"I'm immensely flattered, though I believe you overestimate how important I am," Nestra replied.

"Not at all."

The smile widened.

"The war for mankind's soul is fought on the field of ideas. Symbols. Stories. We do love our stories, don't we? That is why I wanted to meet you. I believe that it is important to give every remarkable person my time and attention whenever feasible."

Nestra didn't reply.

"Who knows when we will be able to meet in the future?"

Nestra shrugged.

"Not sure if I'll ever travel to your parts, true."

"And what a lost opportunity that is, especially with your aunt and mother forfeiting their citizenship. But I digress, and I wouldn't want to disturb your steak. One last question."

He leaned forward.

"Do you ever feel like you're wearing a mask, skin-deep, something that hides who you are so you can deceive everyone and yourself into believing you belong, but if someone were to peel it off, they would find nothing but horror?"

"Yes I've attended meetings with HR. Why?"

He laughed then, a genuine, open-throat sound that dissipated the tension of the onlookers. Among those that sat at the tables around them, shoulders relaxed and conversations resumed. Some shivered, as if warding off the cold.

"A great answer. I'll be sure to remember it. Enjoy your meal."

Nestra watched his back, her head full of warnings. And then she realized he'd left one last poisoned gift. She gritted her teeth.

He'd saddled her with the bill. That fucker! With a grunt of annoyance, she signaled the waitress.

"I'll have the meal to go instead. Yes, both plates. Thank you."

Cold steak. What a sad fucking day.

***

Even the blue light on familiar asphalt failed to bring the comfort of normalcy. Nestra triple-checked her Alda's safety status to make sure the car hadn't been tampered with, even when Valerian had been waiting outside to provide support just in case. Even driving away was an exercise in watching her back. She pulled her secure phone immediately.

They knew. With absolute certainty. About the mask, at least. She sent Ragnarok a message saying so because she was part of a hierarchy with protocols, not a lone wolf anymore. But they knew. And they were going to do something about it. Maybe kill her.

It looked like time was up. There had been many opportunities for her identity to leak but the way Alexander had presented it, it had probably happened after she was wounded. All the members of the rescue team had seen Aunt Claire and Doctor Mazingwe rush her like they knew her. Some may have heard Claire call her Nestra. She couldn't even blame Claire for letting that slip because she'd had a javelin in the chest at that time. That was a good excuse.

Fuck. Now what? If they had someone in their faction with a solid knowledge of the Pandora database, they might have figured out she was an alien too, regardless of their hate boners for transformation gleams. But then… what were they waiting for? Doctor Daniels could have captured her with some reinforcements. It wasn't that hard to neutralize her for a couple of low B-class with decent teamwork. Why let her know they were onto her? Were they expecting her to make mistakes and reveal herself? Flee? Did Alexander slip up by being overly aggressive, or was it part of the ploy?

"Aaarg this is too complicated for me!"

He had mentioned being part of Rebirth. They were fanatics and those tended to act according to their dogma, not reality, but good operatives were always about results first and expediency regardless of creed…

She realized she was nibbling on a nail. Ok, he was getting in her head.

Then the unexpected happened. Ragnarok actually called.

"Hello?"

"First question first. Are you in immediate danger?"

"I don't think so," Nestra replied. "It's weird. Why would they let me know like that?"

"I believe we can dispense with the pleasantries," Ragnarok interrupted. "We have several hypotheses, with the most likely one being that your detective work is messing with one of their ongoing operations. I need to ask if you're willing to continue or not."

Nestra almost scoffed.

"Of course. If they really want me, and I think they do, I have too many weaknesses they can leverage to get to me anyway. Hiding is useless. They'll just go after my family or my friends. It's far too late for me to hide."

"Courageous. Good."

"But if you know they're up to no good, why not nab them?"

There was a second of pause, an extremely long time for an A-class like Rag.

"It's a question of… timing. It should become more clear after both sides pull the trigger."

"Do you know what they're really after?"

"Several things, in fact, and I expect they will take drastic measures. Focus on finding out what they want with Depth Six because we're not sure yet. Ashjay will support you."

"Alright."

"And… Crescent?"

She had been about to say Nestra's real name. For sure.

"Yeah?"

"The city has your back, no matter the circumstances. You have proven yourself to me and to many others, time and again. I hope you know that."

"I sense a but coming," Nestra said, drawing on years of experience dealing with her hierarchy.

"No buts. If things get bad, save yourself. Don't try to prove yourself again. They are underestimating Threshold or they don't care. We will do better with you gone than with you dead. No heroics."

"Got it."

Ragnarok closed the call.

So that was it, Nestra thought. Maybe. Probably. Her bug out bag was ready and waiting out in the Threshold wilderness, but that was the literal last part of a long plan.

Had to warn people off. She sent a message to Kim who would benefit from government protection, one to Stibbs though whoever attacked her was unfathomably doomed, and one to Gorge who, despite being a bit of a cunt, was still a solid mate deep under that layer of abrasiveness. He was probably the most at risk despite knowing the least. Mazingwe and Camille received a message though they were not at risk themselves. Her Little People League guildmates, well, she told them as well though they would probably be left alone. Even fanatics would hesitate to go after gleam kids. It was universally reviled.

And now for the difficult part.

"Claire?"

"Hey Nes. We're prepping to raid tomorrow but we've heard things. Any news."

"Yeah. There are Americans here. They know what I am."

Nestra heard a 'woosh' of displaced air, some static, then silence.

"Ok I'm secure. Is this xenoniece biz?"

"I'm afraid so. I don't know exactly how much they figured out but… this might be bad, and people might come after you."

"I like when people come after me. It shortens the distance."

"I'm serious. There could be questions. There could be, I don't know."

Nestra paused.

"I really don't know what could happen to you."

"Nes, I appreciate you thinking about us."

"Questions, and, and…"

Her voice was breaking up a bit there. Guilt.

"Nes. This was never your fault."

"What does it matter? You're still getting splashed."

"Nes. We lived through the Incursion. We saw our friends die. This? This is nothing. I'll cancel the raid. An Ren will take over with her Century Guild."

"Ok… I, ok."

"We'll be ready if something happens. You're a big girl now but, if anything goes wrong, call me ok?'

"Yes."

Well that was it. Nestra leaned back into her seat. All those who were obviously linked to her were warned now.

Was it time? She'd been careless for so long so it was deserved, but still. It stung.

"Why can't they just leave me alone?"

Because they're assholes, the answer surged through her brain.

Nestra grabbed the wheel and turned off the autopilot. If she was going to be inconvenienced for the sin of breathing, the least she could do was to make them pay for it.

***

To Nestra's surprise, the next immediate lead in her case came from Furzi the very next morning. They met at his dingy diner for breakfast before their respective shifts, even though it was official business. The inspector had the satisfied smile of someone who just nailed someone else to a wall.

"Palladian. My superiors are very pleased about our initiative. Good Threshold resourcefulness, they said. I thought I might return the favor."

He grabbed an espresso and a datasheet, offering both as tribute. The video on the sheet was almost as interesting as the coffee.

"How did you get this?" she asked.

"You'll be amazed what I can find if I'm allowed to open an official inquiry and get warrants. This was taken by a Touhei-affiliated delivery drone. They don't share the footage without warrant for confidentiality reasons, but after we asked, they helped. Now watch.

The video showed the drone attack but from the air. The video quality was a little dodgy but clear enough to show a stone quickly rising from the construction drone's back, then shooting down. The blur of a quickly moving form was obvious once she knew where to look, even with the shit quality.

"Hot damn," Nestra whispered.

"What do you think? Light mana? Optical camo? You'd know more than me" Furzi said, clearly excited now.

"I don't think it's light mana. Besides being really rare, illusions blink more than blur when they break down. Optical camo would be my guess."

"Isn't it prohibitively expensive?"

"It is, and as you can see it tends to fail when the wearer moves. Shit…"

Well it confirmed what Ragnarok had said. No way a common thief could afford something like a camo suit. That was black ops gear. It wasn't even a question of money. They just couldn't be purchased, and even if they were stolen, using one was a tremendous risk. No. It had to be operatives. Ragnarok was right. It was foreign interference.

"This looks serious. Shouldn't you guys call the army?" Furzi said with a concern that felt rehearsed.

"We are the army."

He was kind of right, but he also didn't know Nestra had support. The presence of a camo suit implied… hmm.

"Thanks for warning me. I think this will be very, very useful. Send me the video?"

"Already done."

Nestra's visor pinged. She immediately sent the file to Ashjay. Ok, so Ragnarok wanted to wait? Fine. That didn't mean Nestra couldn't prepare the field.

***

The search for the lost mana stones continued regardless of Nestra's other problems. Someone had lit a fire under Ashjay's ass given the pile of coffee and energy drinks the gleam was piling on her borrowed desk. Nestra didn't participate in the systematic search — they had enough people for that — but she helped with interrogations. Sorry, 'interviews'. To be fair, other police officers had uncovered a slew of minor offenses from petty thefts to illegal shift swaps. Someone even ran regular poker games out of a maintenance room on the second floor, which wasn't exactly a terrible violation as it was done during breaks but still. Depth Six's sins had been bared in all their wickedness and it turned out it was just a rather flustered housewife. Disappointing.

Her person of interest today was a janitor who operated in one of the deepest levels. The elevator dropped her there after a vertiginous dive.

It was dark down there. The deepest pit of the facility hid machines and parts that were not expected to be used often — according to the manual. Rather than proper robots, the goods were stored on shelves served by ancient forklifts. Red light shone ominously, casting unmoving shadows.

"Red light. Why does it always have to be red light?"

After a maze of properly labeled goods, Nestra found a source of hidden light… ok it was well indicated by arrows but still. That cave gave her more claustrophobia than a sealed volcano world.

At least it was clean. Remarkably so. Knocking on the door, she entered a rather comfortable den that smelled vaguely of incense and, weirdly, pipe tobacco. A baseline with wispy hair and dark eyes frowned when she arrived. She couldn't tell his age, only that he was somewhere above 40.

"And you must be the police," he grumbled with a thick accent.

"Ah, yes, hello, Mr… hm, I'm not sure how to pronounce your name."

The man answered. Nestra decided that some battles were lost from the start and people should just move on.

"That's Finnish, right?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

His tone was clipped. Impatient. Nestra found a lot of sympathy for the man as someone who'd been in the opposite situation.

Now what? What would she have wanted? She was getting a strong impression that being 'Threshold professional' would serve no purpose here. These low-priority interrogations were a bit of a fishing trip since the team was still looking for a serious lead. Maybe she should just try honesty?

"We're looking for the stones. Can you help?"

"Help Help!" the man exclaimed with a thick accent. "You always want help! No one does their job properly. I am here to keep things clean, not look for your lost belongings, no? No?"

Damn.

"Look, my job is to find the stones, not keep them safe. You move around all the lower levels, right? You see things. You know how things should be."

"Yes. And I also know I don't like people talking talking talking. If I answer your questions, will you leave me be?"

Nestra shrugged.

"I'm here for the stones, not for conversation."

"Hmph!"

The janitor led her out, grumbling to himself in a constant stream of Finnish. If he didn't want to interact with people, why come to Threshold to begin with? It was one of the denser bastions of mankind.

Maybe the guy just wanted to be deep as well. She decided not to ask.

"Dust. Want to talk about dust?"

"Errrr."

"There is also no dust."

"Is it 'I did it' no dust or 'something should have been dusty but wasn't'?"

"The latter. Lack of dust. Near the access gate."

Nestra almost stumbled.

"Pardon? You mean, those that lead to the evacuation tunnels?"

"Yes."

"The dust has been disturbed? I thought the tunnels were hermetically sealed?"

"They are! Until they aren't!"

Nestra frowned. It should have been impossible to open the doors without some sort of general alarm going off, but… well one layer had been 'hacked' so who knew?

"Can you show me where it is?"

"And where do we think we are going?"

Nestra ignored the flow of disgruntled Finnish to reconsider her options. She was so sure that the crystals were still in the facility seeing as the evacuation doors were designed to stop high explosives, but if they were hacked not to blare alarms upon being released… Fuck the crystals might be halfway to Brazil by now. It would have been easy to transfer them on a transport ship bag by bag. But inefficient… Her mind wandered. The janitor led her to a utility elevator that climbed up a bit, then, past several long corridors he navigated without a visor or, indeed, without looking at any indication. She was almost expecting to be jumped by the Minotaur himself but an access point led to a brightly lit area with rails, and then to a massive door that could have stopped a combat walker. The janitor grumbled as he pointed towards the door, complaining in broken English about breaches of protocol or maybe cortisol, she wasn't sure. In any case, she approached it.

And swore.

"Riel fucking dammit."

The gate was pristine and unbroken, unsurprising given its nature. The panel near the emergency release lever wasn't. Obvious welding marks scarred its surface.

"Can you open it?" she asked.

The janitor produced a physical key from a massive chain that ought to have jingled with every step. Revealing the innards confirmed Nestra's suspicions: the alarm system had been manually disconnected from their sockets via the expedient method of severing them with some sort of pincers. It was a butcher's job.

"How the fuck did maintenance not pick this?" she complained.

"Maintenance? For a gate? Pah. All the fancy gadgets upstairs are more important!" the janitor replied in a tone that might have been sarcastic. Or not. He was really hard to read.

But now Nestra had a problem, and a problem that she couldn't solve by herself.

"Hey Ashjay," she said as soon as her superior picked up.

"I'm rather busy, Palladian."

"How do you feel about exploring tunnels for a change?"

"... really, really busy."

"The evacuation gate's alarms systems are disabled on the…"

She checked the depth.

"Thirty-second level. They could have been opened."

"And no one would have noticed. We need to check the tunnels themselves. Curses. Alright, do you have your raiding gear with you?"

Nestra had to stop at that. Raiding gear?

"Always. Why?"

"Because if the thieves went that way, they might have left little surprises behind. Get ready. You and I are going to go exploring."

Nestra almost scoffed. Even at this depth, this was still Threshold with cameras and… and…

She remembered all the breaches. This was deep, deeper than most of the shelters Threshold had built. With the entrances protected and seismic detectors in place to detect burrowing critters, there was very little incentive to look deeper.

"Riel dammit."

She hoped Ashjay deserved her rank.

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