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Jonathan awoke from a sleep so deep and restful that it bordered on the unnatural. The morning sun struggled to pierce the perpetual gloom that shrouded the Dread Tower but a few light rays still managed to find their way into the window of Jonathan's room.

As he stirred, the sheets that covered his naked form slid away, revealing his body to the chill air of the tower, it had been a long time since Jonathan had been able to sleep in a proper bed.

The sound of a gong reverberating through the tower snapped him out of his reverie. No sooner had the gong rung than Marra had entered Jonathan's room and announced that Fade required his presence in the war room. Jonathan rose from his bed, got dressed, and made his way through the labyrinthine corridors of the Dread Tower guided by Marra until they arrived at the imposing double doors that marked the entrance to the war room. Two brute guards, their faces obscured by the darkness, stood sentinel on either side of the door.

Upon entering the war room, Jonathan was immediately struck by the sight that greeted him. A vast table dominated the centre of the room, upon which was spread a detailed map of the Empire, marked with an array of colourful pins, flags, and lines that no doubt represented various strategic points and troop movements. At the head of the table stood Fade, his white hair catching the light of the flickering candles that provided the room's only illumination, his piercing gaze fixed upon the map. Yianna crawled out from under the war room table and rushed past Jonathan, wiping a white liquid from her mouth as she passed. She avoided making eye contact.

"Jonathan," Fade greeted him, his voice carrying an undercurrent of excitement. "I'm glad you could join me. There is much to discuss."

As Jonathan approached the table, Fade began to unveil his plans, his fingers tracing the lines that represented roads, rivers, and mountain ranges with practiced ease. He spoke of secret alliances, covert operations, and strategic manoeuvres, all designed to weaken the Empire's grip on Adearath and draw the Emperor Tarthis out from the safety of his fortified capital. Plans that look like they were being planned for years.

"The key to our success," Fade explained, his eyes meeting Jonathan's, "will be your return from the dead. With Zigarete out of the picture, and the Tracker outed as a traitor, the Emperor will not be able to resist the opportunity to capture—or kill—you himself. And when he does, we will be ready to strike."

Jonathan listened in silence, absorbing the enormity of Fade's plan and the role that he was expected to play in it. As a pawn in the grand game of power, he would be bait, luring the Emperor into a trap from which there would be no escape.

"I kind of want to avoid letting the Empire know I am still alive. Being bait is not exactly the safest job."

"Your current safety is merely temporary, sooner or later the Empire will learn of your survival and your head will be back on the chopping block. With my plan, we will be able to cut the head off of the snake. You, your friends, and all other sorcerers will be free from the Empire and its Inquisition. Final mission cleared." Fade grinned.

"I assume you would use this turmoil to take power?"

"Adearath needs order, and who better than me? Who better than us?" Fade's words reminded Jonathan of a bond villain's speech.

Despite his reservations, Jonathan knew that he had little choice but to play his part, at least for now. He needed to survive and he needed to save his friends. Whether that meant going all-in with Fade, or seeking out another path, remained to be seen.@@novelbin@@

"For now though, we will wait, let Tarthis get high on his own supply of success against the Resistance. With any luck the Resistance and Empire will continue to weaken each other, making our job much easier."

"You don't want to work with the Resistance?" Jonathan asked, "Don't your goals align with theirs?"

"No, the Resistance's alignment "chaotic stupid". Working with them would do more harm then good."

"I guess that makes sense, I mean they did want to turn me into a human bioweapon." Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yes, see, they might have similar goals to me, but they are some seriously dumb NPCs." Fade emphasised the last word. Calling people NPCs did not bode well in Jonathan's mind.

As Fade concluded his strategic oration, he leaned on his war table, the flickering candlelight in the room seemed to grow brighter, lending an almost theatrical glow to the scene. He turned to Jonathan with a sly, almost playful smile, a stark contrast to the gravity of their earlier conversation.

"Jonathan, there is something else I wish to discuss with you," Fade began, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the map-strewn table. "I've managed to establish contact with Saikhi, Talitha, and Alistar."

Jonathan's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the mention of his friends' names. The corners of his lips twitched with the beginning of a hopeful smile. Fade's smile widened at Jonathan's reaction, pleased to deliver such welcome news. "They are sceptical, naturally. My reputation of being a dangerous sorcerer has proceeded me. But once I assured them of your... resurrection, they seemed willing to hear me out."

Jonathan couldn't blame his friends for their wariness; they were dealing with one of the most notorious sorcerers in all of Adearath, after all.

"Once they lay eyes on you," Fade continued with uncharacteristic warmth in his voice, "they'll understand that the game has changed. The Emperor may have hunted you like a dog, Jonathan, but with me, you're a knight, or even a king."

A small laugh escaped Jonathan as he shook his head. "A knight or a king in your grand game, huh? I suppose there are worse fates."

Fade gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, understanding that trust had to be earned.

"When can I see them?" Jonathan asked, the anticipation clear in his voice.

"They should be arriving at the tower's gates later today. Provided, of course, they do not run into any trouble along the way. And I believe," Fade said, turning his attention to a wall-mounted timepiece, "in a few hours you are expected to join me to welcome them."