I still don’t know exactly what to make of the whole situation. On the one hand, Chloe would tell me that the answer is so simple. Kids are being threatened, and it’s my responsibility as a person with power, to protect said kids and liberate them from the clutches of these arms dealers. The fact that these people are, well, arms dealers, should only solidify the ease of that decision.

And yet, despite knowing that Giuseppe has been flattering and manipulating me, telling me exactly the words he needs to say to get me to go along with his plans, it’s working. The combination of flattery— even over the top flattery— with the clear research he’s done on me. Is he really a [Mechanist]? Or is this the work of some sort of [Puppet Master] or maybe a [Hypnotist] or… there’s simply too many class possibilities out there, and I can’t be certain that my mind isn’t being subtly influenced.

I survey my surroundings through [Archangel’s Gaze], still careful not to peer too deeply into their Etheric wards. I’m confident enough that I’m not being controlled, nor my mind tampered with through any method beyond honeyed words and appeals to my emotions and sensibilities. It’s not enough to keep me from doing what I set out to do, but it is enough to make me think and consider the entire situation before me. And— in a more strategic sense, it’s keeping them busy.

Throughout my little tour, I notice that the others involved— two men, one woman— are all sitting at well-crafted workbenches, each engaged in the art of enchanting new weapons. And there’s quite a few finished and in-progress designs. Guns are the most common by far, and it’s easy to imagine why. Easily the quickest weapon for a lay person to pick up and use without training or specific Skills. A lot of swords as well— everyone loves swords, after all. There’s also some bows, some rods and wands and staves for the magically inclined. Even a couple of whips, including a two-tailed one that looks incredibly unwieldy. What kind of class would wield such a thing?

None of them pay me any mind, even though Giuseppe continues to wax poetic about me in a soft voice. I can’t tell if they are incredibly dedicated to their craft, or maybe they’ve just got some sort of [Concentration] Skill. I know mages like Chloe and Kristil get [Meditation] to help them gather [Ether] more quickly, so maybe there’s a [Mechanist] equivalent? Not one that I was ever offered, but I’m pretty scatter-brained, so that tracks.

“Would you like any water to drink?” Giuseppe asks. “I would offer more, but I’m afraid that’s all I have available.”

How odd. Something about all this isn’t adding up. All this supplication and desire to help, and yet, they couldn’t have just sent me an e-mail or called up the university or arranged a meeting with… someone, to intercede with me. And now he’s talking about ‘only having water available’, despite going through all this trouble and kidnapping children to lure me down here.

I’m getting a slight headache, and I’m not certain it’s of natural origin.

I check my Status as we head down another hallway, making our way into a small room. No status abnormalities, and [Health] and [Ether] are both at expected values. And yet, the lightheadedness is increasing. My vision is going blurry. Perhaps there’s some sort of disorientation Skill in effect? Or maybe… No, wait, there is something wrong with my Status. My [Ether] should have increased by a couple of points in these last few seconds that I’ve been walking with Giuseppe. And yet, it has remained completely fixed. It’s like I’m in a dungeon, only instead of halving the regeneration, it’s been cut off completely.

“Anyway, I do apologize,” he says, leading me into a small room. Before I realize the change in his previously-supplicating demeanor, Giuseppe pauses. With a sorrowful stare, the door is closed behind me. And it’s locked from the outside by some Etheric relay. “I truly do respect you and your accomplishments and ideals both. But this is for the good of all of humanity. I know that, in time, you will understand.”

Oh shit. Shit, shit… dammit… those bastards. Those rotten, no-good, double-crossing assholes just lured me into a trap. I don’t know if the cops were just fed false information or were in on the whole thing from the beginning. Honestly, I could see either, and yet, here I was, not expecting them to pull this shi–

I shake my head. Nope, first, I need to figure out where I am and what’s going on, and from there, formulate a plan. Any revenge can wait until I’m safe.

Holding nothing back, I use the effect of [Archangel’s Gaze] to break the illusion completely. And yep, I’m in a cell. A nice concrete cage, enchanted with various glyphs on the side. [Durability], [Restraint], reversed [Ether], [Suppression]… Well, it seems that these fine gentlemen actually found a way to build a prison cell capable of holding a high-level individual. I just walked right in, and for my trust, now I am serving as the guinea pig.

Why does this even work, anyway? In dungeons, it makes sense, considering the System itself is running them. But as far as I understand from my memories with Madison and Dr. Chotono, Ether is the will of sentient beings made manifest in a physical form. I should be producing Ether internally, not absorbing it from the outside world. I find my answer when I see a glyph I don’t recognize. Based on its shape, it looks similar to a [Mind] or [Mental] glyph. It might actually be [Will] itself.

So, they are suppressing my will, not necessarily blocking the [Ether] in my core, but preventing me from being able to generate it. Hence the headache from earlier as I entered into the formation’s area of effect. How frustrating! Did they figure this out by trial-and-error alone? Or is there something else at play here? And if so, what?

I do so hate my life right about now. Also, where is Chloe, anyway? Shouldn’t she be within telepathy range by now? Or does this cell also block [Angelic Bond]?

No. It does, but not completely. I can still sense her presence, faint, but definitely there. She’s frustrated and frantic more than anything. I don’t know if she’s still stuck at the hospital tending to more patients or being helpfully escorted away from the premises of my makeshift jail. She’s not within the one-mile radius of our telepathy. And thankfully, there’s no notes of physical pain, so she’s likely not in any physical danger at this time.

I sense with a small metaphysical tug on reality surrounding me that I can still access my [Inventory], though it would be considerably more difficult. I decide against doing so for now. The only thing I can think might be useful in there is that strange crystal that I got from Zethira back in the tower. It emits a strange pulsing power, one which has thus far defied all of my attempts to delve further into its purpose or function. But I would rather not reveal such a priceless treasure if there are any other options for getting out of here.

By now, whoever is watching me most likely has realized that I’ve broken the illusion. They also have made no attempt against me, likely confident in their ability to keep me holed up in here. Finally, a weakness I can exploit. But I must be judicious about it. Wait until the moment is right.

I scan the area for any signs of drones. Nothing. No connections to the outside world, except for a thin slit along the floor that opens up just wide enough to allow for them to generously offer me food. And that has so many redundant Etheric formations sketched and engraved into it that there’s absolutely no chance I’m going to break through that little entrance for a very long time.

Four rectangular walls, about nine feet by ten, made of iron. There’s a blanket on the concrete bed, along with a single small pillow. A foam mattress, and a toilet and sink. The water on each seems to work. I’m not sure how clean it is. Good thing I’ve got some water in my [Inventory]. Or maybe they know I’ve got an [Inventory] and expect that I’ll be able to survive on my own stores for a few days. Either way, I’m not in any immediate danger, and it seems that they’re content to keep me here in relative comfort for a prisoner. Maybe the plan was to hold me hostage to get to Chloe, or Nicholas, or… I suppose I would have my fair share of enemies, even if I don’t know most of them.

Thankfully, I’m not nearly as helpless as they seem to believe I am. Giuseppe is a master flatterer and supplicant, but I think there was an air of genuine admiration behind his praise. And now, I will demonstrate exactly the gap in skill between my [Mechanist] captors and the first [Mechanical Angel].

I look around through all the glyphs on the wall. All well carved. But not flawless, either. The resonances are tight, but they aren’t perfect. The rightmost stroke of the [Ether] glyph carved into the wall right near the upper door hinge is off by half a degree. I see more errors as well of a similar degree, the result of subtle imprecisions in learning and low-ranked [Glyph Manipulation] Skills to aid them.

They are within tolerances, but not quite perfect. And as a result, the flow of Ether throughout the chamber isn’t perfectly smooth. There’s some minor deviations, some underlying dissonance, some errors in the construction that can be taken advantage of. It’ll take some time to properly read through the entire array and figure out how to best it, but best it I will. I have risen to every challenge thus far, and I will not succumb to this one either.

I carefully peruse the markings on the wall. A formation designed to draw the ambient Ether out of the room and use it to empower the binding patterns all around. Was such a thing constructed just for me? Or was such technology developed to hold high-level prisoners more broadly, and employed on me for reasons which have yet to be revealed.

I’ll look into that later. For now, I have to consider this as just another tribulation to be overcome on my path to one day destroying the System. How can I best exploit these errors? And how can I make sure that I don’t make the same mistakes that they did when I push my understanding of glyphs and Ethertech that much further?

I can feel the discord just beneath the surface, a note out of place. A small trickle of Ether is still flowing into the room. With a bit of mental effort and a flex of my internal [Ether] channels, I’m able to draw this tiny bit of power into my [Ether] core. More importantly, I’m able to use this tiny gap in the array’s efficacy to focus my connection to Chloe. I put out a mental message to her, and to my great relief, she responds.

“Sera? Is that you?” Her words come out fuzzy and distorted, like a radio signal improperly tuned.

“It is. I was tricked and trapped in an Ether-suppression cell. It also seems to block our telepathy, but I found a small gap in the formation. I’ve been able to connect with you by focusing my willpower on that small gap, but it’s still hard to hear you.” I say the words far slower and more carefully than I otherwise would while mentally connecting with Chloe, reasoning that if I’m hearing distorted words, she probably is as well.

“I’m sorry… I’ll– I’ll find a way and get you out of here! I promise!”

“Wait!” I say. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m just a few blocks away. Sorry it took so long to get here; there were two patients right on death’s door and it took a lot of time to get them sufficiently stabilized to the point where other medics could comfortably take over.”

“No, that’s fine. Just… I know this is hard for you, but I want you to stay out of sight for right now. There’s a good chance that a battle is going to break out as soon as I break out of here, and when it does, I don’t want you to end up captured either.”

Chloe sends a bit of annoyance and concern through her bond. “I understand, even though I really don’t like it. In return, you will take care of yourself. And you will get out alive and unharmed. If you don’t, I swear that I’ll never forgive you.”

The connection flickers out for a brief moment. “I expect you to hold me to that,” I say before turning my attention to my body and my surroundings and getting to work in earnest.