The expedition had, at long last, set off. They were stripped of more than 90% of their planned equipment, carefully spacing out meals, and doing what they could to stretch the meager supplies they had as far as humanly possible, but in this first leg of the journey, those issues hadn't really had a chance to show their true nature.

All problems for future instances of Henry to worry about. As the duplicate, this one was destined to die soon, and perfectly content with that reality.

Got less than two days left… Wonder how much magic loot we can scrounge up in that time…

The route they'd chosen took them just outside of the old Gentleman's Club territory to an unassuming residential section. Nothing particularly exciting, just a row of identical two-story houses on either side of the street. Sure, a few of them had holes in various walls and whatnot every so often, but other than that the whole place was absolutely dead quiet.

Which was exactly how he knew they must be coming up on the first cursed region of their little trip.

"Alright, everyone," the original Henry addressed as they approached. "Those of you interested, get ready for your first milk run in some of the most dangerous regions Hallow London has to offer."

Positions in the loose formation shifted around, just over a half dozen shifting forward towards where he and the original were taking point while the rest filled in the positions they'd abandoned. Just because there wasn't anything here now, didn't mean that at least two sets of eyes on every angle weren't necessary.

It surprised him a bit just how many mages had ended up volunteering to tag along. Personally, he would have expected one, maybe two people crazy enough to give this a chance. Instead, just shy of a quarter of their whole group signed up, well beyond even his wildest expectations. It was so ridiculous, he'd done a bit of asking around when he found out, and the response had been nearly universal.

"I think I can take it," one had boasted.

"There's this cool technique I've been working on… I call it Wind Step. Makes me dash around super quick and stuff. What better place to test it out?"

"If this is what just one artifact was able to do… maybe there's other ones out there with similar usefulness?"

The consensus, clearly, was that these were the mages who had pure, unwavering confidence in their new spellcasting ability. It made sense, in a reckless sort of way, he thought. Any one of them individually probably had better than 50/50 odds to square up against a lone vampire and live right now, and who knows where their discoveries might take them further down the line.

Henry also realized how hypocritical he would be if he tried to dissuade them in any capacity. Instead, he'd decided to take the more helpful approach of tempering expectations and encouraging caution. Out of anyone, he probably understood the best of how suddenly being handed magic could lead to lethal consequences.

"Just don't get too carried away," he'd told each of them in turn. "Rule number one is, and always will be, to get out alive. Empty handed or not, sometimes that's the only move worth taking." They'd nodded along, but he didn't know how much his words sunk in at this point. Hopefully, well enough to avoid someone becoming an example for the others.

Everyone settled into the new formation just in the nick of time. The copy's gaze fell on one bland-looking house seemingly at random, and a phantom chill slithered its way down his spine. Sparing a glance around him, it seemed that everyone else felt it as well.

"That's got to be the place, then," the original declared.

He couldn't help but agree.

The group slowed to a halt, as Henry about-faced to address the crowd.

"Right," he announced as loud as he dared to raise his voice. By now, they'd all more or less mastered the ability to speak in ways that kept their voice from traveling too far, while still being audible to those nearby. "First order of business, let's go over the notes on what to expect from this region."

Murmurs and nods of assent circulated their small group, while Martin and Robb took control of the remaining roughly two dozen mages. Those who weren't going in busied themselves with taking up positions on the surrounding street, ready to hold the immediate area while the rest snooped around inside the curse zone.

"As I made mention of on the way here, this one is a pretty tame one to wrap your head around. We're looking at some sort of gravity funhouse, confined to that building right there." He pointed to the eerie two-story behind him. "There's reports of prior group of 4 GC scouts getting stuck on walls, ceilings, weightless midair, and even one poor bloke who managed to fall up into the sky above. Don't ask me how they managed that or what happened to them after; it doesn't say specifically but I'm sure we can all reach a reasonable conclusion on the omitted details."

A few dark chuckles went around the small posse of mages. They understood exactly what he was getting at.

"Thankfully, other than that it appears to be just a normal, two-story building, so this place should be quick enough to tear through with nine of us on the job. Perfect for everyone to dip their toes in on artifact hunting, as far as easy options go. Now, are we all ready to head in, or is there anything that should be addressed before we start?"

A hand raised and Henry motioned for the volunteer to speak up.

"Umm… is it really just that simple? I feel like curses wouldn't have the reputation they have if they were all like that…"

"Good question. Short answer is, no, there's a good chance that it isn't that simple. Just because we have intel on the area before going in doesn't mean that it's fully reliable. It's entirely possible something might have been missed, or something's changed, or another equally unexpected thing happens. Unlikely, in this case, but still possible. Keep your head on a swivel and we should do just fine. Anything else?"

Another voice spoke up. "If we have a fair chance of clearing this one out ourselves, why hadn't the Club gotten around to doing that long before we got here? Seems to me that this could have been one of the ones his own men could have picked clean unassisted."

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"Oh, that? Simple luck, really. This report is dated just a day before the wolves tore through here at the start of last week. It was earmarked for clearing once the threat passed, but… well, other issues cropped up for Guillaume, as you might imagine. Does that answer your question?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well, if nothing else is too pressing, then, let's move out. We're on the clock. Let's work quickly and get out of here within the next half hour or so. I don't want to give any wandering vamps any funny ideas with us being out in the open like this."

They nodded, and fell in behind the two of them as they approached the run-down home. The sound of multiple sets of footfalls filled their ears, as they walked forward in silence as one. Straight up to the front door, they found the deadbolt unlocked, almost inviting them inside in hopes of catching them all unaware.

Preparation was about to dash those hopes against the rocks, preferably. Getting the full three days of lifetime would be nice. A luxury, sometimes, but he always liked to aim for it when possible.

The duplicate approached the front door, and carefully turned the handle.

< -|- -|- >

Celine was absolutely fuming.

Her consciousness wrapped around every square inch of the tower that, presumably, her beloved had been residing in for several months now. Ignoring the damage for a moment, it looked extremely well-lived in: remains of dormitories could be found as her senses swept over multiple floors at once, mess halls laid in ruin at regular intervals. Just the sheer amount of bodies alone that her briar-like plants were finding fertile ground in indicated that this place was once a bustling hub of activity.

So why couldn't she remember a single thing about this place?!

A flash of anger twitched through her distributed psyche, and a vine the size of an anaconda slammed a table into smithereens. Wood splinters scattered every which way, blackening as they sailed through the spore filled air and turned to germinating seeds that would entrench her strength further.

It infuriated her to no end. Despite sitting directly on top of the building in question, her mind wanted to keep slipping away from anything even remotely concerning it. Like an ant traveling down an elastic band, the path to recollection seemed to stretch longer and longer the more she tried to coax out an answer.

Surely, there was a reasonable explanation for this. That fake Devil, Henry, must've been lying as always. Guillaume loved her. He'd never do anything to hurt her, right?

...Right?

Focus, she told herself. You still need to find what happened to him. His body should still be around here, somewhere. Once I see him, then I can… I…

There her mind went slipping again. Why was it slipping like that?!

I need to find him. I need to see his face, I need to find him-

Her thoughts went in circles in such a fashion for an unknown amount of time. Redoubts fell, twisted plant life growing in its wake as humble seeds took root and became sturdy trees, pushing through concrete and rebar alike to secure themselves. Systematically, room by room, she left no stone unturned, no body unchecked. Radiating her sphere of influence out from her center, buried deep into the remains of the elevator shafts below.

Time held little importance to her. She was timeless, while all that stood before her would rot for her to reclaim.

And, with time, she found what she sought for so dearly.

"Oh, honey… what have they done to you?"

Multiple bullet wounds riddled the body, tossed haphazardly into an unmarked mass grave alongside numerous others. How dare they. He didn't deserve to die in the first place, but they couldn't simply have stopped there. No, they had to disrespect him after they'd already gone through the trouble of murdering him.

"Mark my words… the next time I see that boy, I will tear him to strips and water the soil with his blood…"

Her voice was perfectly even. Yet, within it, there was a razor-sharp tone that, if there had been anyone around to listen to it, would have made it abundantly clear that she took every word completely seriously.

If there had been anyone around to listen to it…

A slow, purposeful clap echoed through the abandoned halls behind where her attention was focused.

How-?

Her senses should have picked up anyone approaching the moment they even got close! To think that someone could be here, this deep into her own demesne… were they here the whole time?

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, lass…" A rumbling Scottish accent belted out from the end of the flora-laden hall, a hearty chuckle escaping the man's lips as he approached. "Bonus points for keeping it on theme, even! I'll have to remember that one fer later, might be able to get a good comeback out of that one meself!"

In the middle distance, a towering human figure with glossy spectacles and an all-too-familiar uniform loomed, arms folded casually behind him as he plodded forward with a wicked grin on his face.

"...Constable," Celine greeted warily as her humanoid body twisted it's way out from the surrounding roots. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well, firstly, I wanted ta console you on yer loss a wee bit," the chiseled officer explained. "I can't help but feel a little guilty, honestly. It's as they say, if ye want something done right, ye best do it yerself."

"YOU had something to do with the death of my beloved?!" Her vines flared to life, snaking and coiling in preparation to strike. The Constable simply raised a hand in appeasement.

"Peace, woman. I wanted your precious Mr. Dufresne tested, not dead. Though, yes, I will readily admit I'm at least partly responsible. This entire outcome was entirely avoidable, shouldn't have happened in the first place, and you have my condolences."

"As if excuses are enough to save him now! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

A vine lashed out towards the sudden intruder. Swinging in a wide arc and aimed for his neck like a guillotine, it should have proven an opener to a climactic battle between the two.

Instead, the man unholstered a pistol in the blink of an eye and tore the offending appendage to pieces with one shot.

"Now, look. I get it, you're grieving, and it's a bad time to be discussin' recent events, but that's gonnae be yer only warning. I came here to talk, not to fight."

Instincts she'd not known she still possessed caused her to halt her approach. As the Constable ground out those words in a deathly serious, gravelly tone, Celine understood implicitly that such a fight had a high chance of turning ugly, fast.

His time would come, once she had had the chance to properly establish a battleground of her choosing. But, until then, she was the vulnerable one in this position.

"Then deliver your message and begone."

The Constable nodded, sliding his weapon back into the holster at his waist. "Aye… very well. To give you some idea of where I'm coming from, yes, I did talk to that pipsqueak Henry and yes, I did give him my approval to go after your husband. You should know my creed by now: If you live in a fight with me, we'll have no trouble, but if not, well, that was jes' fate, wasn't it?"

"Get to the point," she growled testily.

"I'm getting' there! Point is, I was in a bit of a time-sensitive bind, and had Henry, ah... deputized to give Mr. Dufresne his trial. A trial which, might I point out, he passed. Only for the little blighter to go and off him immediately after!"

He clenched one gloved fist tight, removing the highly reflective specs from his nose with the other. Beneath them, glowing white irises shone from beneath a creased brow that radiated righteous indignation.

"So, it turns out, we're after the same person. Whaddya say to working together to finish him off ourselves?"

If Celine still had an eyebrow to raise, she would have done it now. She found his proposition… intriguing.

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