It was night and Nestra was hunting, this time in the depth of a derelict recreation center. She scrunched her nose as another puff of dust rose from the room’s old tatami. The portal’s pale blue light didn’t do the abandoned dojo any favor. She checked the corners just in case but saw nothing but discarded equipment and the sad, dusty portrait of Jigoro Kano, the founder of Judo. She would have taken it away. It was almost sacrilegious to leave it behind. Nestra made sure all of her gear was secure before walking in. The benefactor had been clear. The void shark would not stop until one of them was dead, and the size of the portal showed it wouldn’t be an easy one. She didn’t really have a plan to deal with the shark but now she could feel it move under the surface of reality and that gave her an edge. It would be their third meeting. She would make it the last one. And then she would make void soup. Salivating, Nestra slipped through the portal and found herself in a small recess leading to a circular arena. She recognized the setup immediately. Giddy, she took a few steps forward on a sandy ground and a door slammed shut behind her, splitting her from the entry portal. She now stood at the edge of an arena surrounded by high walls leading to rafters populated by elaborate stone statues. Magical torches provided a very bright yellow light that bathed everything under the natural rock ceiling, including her opponent as it kneeled on the ground. The entire room gave a feeling of a secret underground fighting pit for the discerning Roman patrician. This time, her opponent was a golem. A metal, manufactured one filled with energies. Light flashed behind the helm as it stood. It was a dueling ground portal. Finally, the perfect set up to try her Scornful Crescent against a peer! So exciting! Well, not exactly a peer, she thought as she watched the scuffed construct take a few steps towards her. Some golems were made of solid material and it was actually extremely difficult to pierce through solid metal with just the strength of one’s arm and another piece of solid metal. Portal worlds avoided difficulty spikes, to some extent, so this one was clearly a training model of rather low quality. The metal looked damaged and poorly made with defects and impact marks. Some of the runes let out occasional showers of sparks like a faulty outlet. For all its shabby make, it walked with confidence as it removed a massive two-handed sword from its back. Nestra thought the aesthetic was interesting. It reminded her of fantasy armor from the late twentieth century, more decorative than practical, and there was an emphasis on the upper parts as if it were meant to block overhead blows. Maybe it was. She took out her sword and moved forward to engage. The golem pointed the blade forward and charged. Nestra charged as well, then twisted on herself while parrying at the last moment. As expected, the golem thrusted and she managed to push the blade aside, immediately moving into its guard. They exchanged fast blows while the golem moved back to try to use its superior reach but Nestra didn’t let it. Greatswords were extremely fast, much faster than some people believed, but so was she and her technique was better. She struck the chest plate several times and the helmet once though it failed to penetrate. She could use precision but she was having entirely too much fun! This was the first fencer she’d fought since maturing and she wanted to test her limits. She also wanted to see if the shark would come while she was fighting a relatively weak opponent. Nestra managed to puncture the breastplate of the fifth try. Even with infusing her blade with mana, she was contending with thick enchanted metal, so, a decent enough result. She decided to take some distance and rely more on her strength. The armor was slightly more powerful than she was so contesting it required a bit of skill. She would strike at its arms and face before it could wind up for strong attacks. Their dance was an unequal one, and the golem couldn’t learn so she pushed it back, little by little. The golem’s defenses were whittled down until it suddenly disappeared. Nestra’s blade missed its leg just as it was aout to hit. The golem now stood two paces back with its blade behind itself. She recognized the posture from training with her father an eternity ago. A pang of nostalgia and anger filled her heart. It was a mana art. Gleams could manipulate mana into patterns that led to greater effect. Those were standard spells and mana arts. They were essentially the same thing but one threw energy and the other stabbed, so humans, as was their wont, split them and then argued for hours about which attack belonged to which. Nestra barely had to think. She charged and struck. Nestra breathed long and deep. This vision had been intense. Just watching the memory of that blade… She touched her nose and found a single droplet of blood. “Ok, so SHARP sharp.” But she got it, and that was what mattered. A flick of her fingers, and a tiny blade extended from her index. It was small and weak and it would barely cut butter but that was fine. She got it. And if she kept practicing, she would eventually get a sword and that one would always be the size she wanted. It was time for fish. It was morning again in Threshold and the summer sun pierced through the precinct’s dirty windows. Nestra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Some things never changed. She was now sitting in an office, alone and facing a gleam from the Special Crime division as well as her two administrative stooges. The gleam was one of those who’d landed near the crime scene and ignored her completely to talk to Valerian the day before in what was the classical ‘if you’re a dreg you don’t exist until I need something’ approach to teamwork. The problem was that they wanted to talk to her now and this wasn’t a discussion. It was a trial. She surveyed the three idiots and leaned a little more in her seat to show her annoyance. It was psychological warfare. Seeing someone relaxed or even pretending to be so tended to piss the gleams off and in this instance, she wanted to piss her off. Because Cleaver was outside looking for Nestra and she was stuck here with someone who cared for theatrics. Nestra kept quiet while they fiddled with stuff and just generally glared at her. The gleam had the gray iris of a metal user like her dad with the short hair many close-quarter raiders favored. She was also fairly powerful, probably a C-grade. Nestra could feel controlled mana wash over her which was the only pleasant thing about this whole encounter. “Before we begin, I would like to know why you felt free to leave the crime scene?” Ah so that was what it was. “Yesterday, you notified us of a crime scene on… landfill 37 of District Fifteen.” “I still don’t understand your question.” “Your behavior is doing you no favor. You notified us of this discovery and then you left.” Another bout of silence. “Was there a problem with that?” “You were not relieved, Officer Palladian.” Nestra carefully calculated the safest way to annoy the gleam. A part of her was aware she was being childish but the core of her mind wouldn’t budge. It was nasty and it wanted to bite, but smartly, in a way that wouldn’t lead to a significant punishment. “If you say so,” she replied noncommittally. It was enough to set the gleam off. “We are the Special Crime division, the one rampart between rogue users and the general public. Our activities always take priority, am I clear?” “What activity? I stayed until I was sure the place was secured and then I left to work. At no point did your people interact with me or ask me to stay.” “Is common sense such a rare commodity these days?” “Whatever do you mean?” Nestra asked innocently. The gleam glared harder, mana now pushing on Nestra’s ever-gluttonous mana circuit and disappearing down its bottomless depth. It was rude so Nestra felt free to fight back a little. “I followed protocol. I don’t see what the problem is.” “We had questions for you.” “And you called me and here I am, so maybe ask them?” “Our time is eminently precious, Officer Palladian. We have better things to do than to run after rogue elements.” There was a clock on the wall, an old-style analogue affair that also displayed the current temperature and mana concentration for legal purposes. Nestra made a show to check it in order to imply that, for people who saw time as precious, they sure enjoyed wasting hers. “I see. I’m terribly sorry you feel that way. Now, you had questions?” “Please note that we will make a request for disciplinary action.” Nestra pushed back a smile but the gleam saw the minute curl of her lips, and it was enough. Internal Affair was a fortress unto itself and Nestra was currently under their jealous umbrella. Any rat squad agent who was found stealing or accepting bribes suffered the worst possible consequences, such as being sent to Red House with the violent criminals and without protection. In return, the rat squad obstructed any and all outside interference with their own business, including from gleams. They were quite famous for that. “Noted, request away. So, you had questions?” The gleam smoldered in her seat. Nestra wondered if she would try to escalate. Her two subordinates were looking at Nestra with a mix of shock and horror. Obviously they weren’t used to a dreg talking back. Nestra was connected so she could afford to do it. Actually, the iron gleam should know her father. It was a rare attunement and he was the strongest user of this type in Threshold. Maybe she had an axe to grind. “This isn’t over, Palladian. I would like to know how you managed to detect the tomb at a distance and what made you decide to investigate.” “There was blood mana, though it was a little weird. And I decided to investigate because I’m a cop.” “How do you know it was unusual? Do you have experience with blood mana?” the gleam asked with a predatory gaze. Blood mana had a somewhat bad reputation. Case in point. “I was exposed to many types of mana as part of my training. Blood included.” “Are you telling me MaxSec gives its employees mana training?” “No? Surely you haven’t failed to recognize my last name?” Nestra asked. “As a metal-aligned user yourself.” The gleam grit her teeth and made a note on a datasheet. “We’ll be checking that. Now elaborate on ‘weird’.” “Just that,” Nestra said, switching to useful mode. It was one thing to piss off the gleam but she wouldn’t do anything to hamper the investigation. “It had a sort of smell, not a physical one but more an induced synesthesia. It was potent enough that I perceived it from a nearby street.” “And yet your partner didn’t.” “Officer Shinoda is a baseline.” “Officer Valerian of House Nephrite did not, however?” “He landed right on top of the mausoleum if that’s what it is. The mana saturation was very high there.” “I’m curious how you would be able to recognize mana with such precision.” They were checking if she wasn’t an accomplice drawing attention to the crime scene, which made sense. The way it was structured hinted at some measure of exhibitionism. The killer or killers would want it to be found. Demon Nestra understood the hunter on a fundamental level without a need for deep thought. That hunter was a cruel one and proud of their work, but they were not willing to display it without someone trying a little, hence why it was camouflaged yet also baited. Someone had to work to enjoy the show, to deserve it. She thought there was also a domination game hidden in the maneuver. The hunter was showing they were smart enough to set up an elaborate display under the Special Crime division’s nose. Or close to it. Nestra was not an apprentice, just one of the few mana-sensitive people who remained close to the ground. “I can feel mana. It’s in my profile,” Nestra replied. “It’s not. Your medical information is sealed to us. Care to explain why?” Mazingwe was apparently looking out for her in his weird protective way, though in this case it was giving her grief. She didn’t really mind people figuring out she had a full circuit and no core. In fact, it would be enough to explain most of the weirdness surrounding her. “Nope, but I can tell you I have a circuit. You should be able to tell since you’re C-grade,” she replied. The gleam bristled a bit. She really couldn’t take any backtalk at all, not even the most benign. “So you claim you could sense a sort of… trail?” “Yes. It was laid on purpose. There was even a, hmm, direction to it. The person or persons who built it, they wanted it to be found, I think. Although that’s speculation.” “Hmm. You saw what was inside, yes?” “A glimpse through the door only.” “Do you think it was a ritual?” “No idea. That’s not my area of expertise.” “Same. I don’t know enough to formulate an educated opinion.” “Strange turn of phrase. Well, I believe we have all we need for now.” Sure you do, Nestra though, sure you do. Wait for it. Wait for iiiiiit. “One last thing. Hypothetically, if you were in my shoes, what lead would you pursue?” Nestra blinked. Not the question she’d expected. That was the first time the gleam caught her off guard and when she looked up, the silvery iris remained carefully neutral. Nestra gave it some thought. “Hm, knowing what I know, I’d look for more sites.” “You think there are more victims?” “Probably? Feels like… a show. Very arrogant. It wouldn’t make sense to stop at one, I think? The hunter is very proud.” “The, uh, hunter. Like a cat. Showing a trophy. Sorry, just the impression I got.” The gleam kept staring and Nestra was growing a little uncomfortable. “The victim was a user.” “Ah,” Nestra replied. That made sense. The hunter wanted to show they were competent. Dangerous, even. “A raider with the Blazing Blades guild. C-rank. A pyromancer.” Nestra gasped. She couldn’t help it. Someone had murdered a C-rank raider? And gotten away with it? Completely? That was… terrifying. Raiders fought back. Mage raiders demolished entire blocks. And this had all gone under the radar? “Holy shit. Wow. A raider. Wow that’s… bad.” “An understatement, Officer Palladian. Thank you for your time and see you later.” Before returning to Shinoda’s side, Nestra stopped at the coffee machine for a nice cup of java and a donut. It was a nice one, not too greasy with pseudo-maple syrup glazing. There was one thing she should do that she’d promised to do twice: talk to Mazingwe before he managed to corner her. He picked up after only one ring. “Nestra Palladian. Good morning. Are you bleeding out in a ditch and require urgent care?” “And good morning to you too, doctor. Is now a good time?” “You mean there is no urgency in your request?” “No requests. I just wanted to inform you of a small change. Hmm. I had synesthesia with a mana signature and my sense of smell. It’s new so I thought I would inform you.” “It is a good thing I am currently sitting, Miss Palladian, or else I might have fallen from the surprise. Your update is much appreciated. And yes, this is a common feature for nose-reliant quirkies though usually other senses are also enhanced. Can you see mana?” “It appears that your body finally adapted to a lack of core, though I will admit it was rather sudden. Your case being unique, I am unsure what ‘normal’ constitutes, but I can tell you this latest development is consistent with quirkies profiles. You might develop other abilities including more active ones such as sudden bursts of strength. Please keep in mind that since you only regain mana from the ambient layer, so to speak, the first triggers might leave you completely exhausted. Are you feeling any discomfort?” “Monitor your weight please, just in case, but so far you seem to be in top shape. It was good listening to you but now I must attend to my next patient. Feel free to send me regular updates in written form and I promise to reply as soon as I can.” “Thanks doctor. Have a great day.” “I am pleased that you would trust me, Miss Palladian. Your well-being matters to me.”