When Fantasy Glitches

When Magnus reappeared, the howling of the storm outside was muffled, replaced by the creaking of old wood and the rattle of windows barely holding together.

He'd arrived inside an old pub—clearly abandoned, or at least shut down for a long time. Dust coated most of the tables and chairs, and the windows had been boarded up, probably the only reason they hadn't shattered from the storm's fury. Still, despite the age and disuse, the place wasn't dark. Candles had been set up across the tables, and lanterns hung from the walls and the thick pillars that supported the second floor.

It wasn't empty, either. From the moment Magnus appeared, the room was filled with the sounds of footsteps, weapons being adjusted, and the rustle of leather brushing against armor. Nearly fifty soldiers had taken up positions across the bar, settling into various corners, going over gear and prepping for deployment.

Magnus's sudden arrival caught several of them off guard. The ones closest to him flinched and took a step back—but then they saw the mask. Cain's mask. That was all it took for them to ease up, and one of them stepped forward.

"Excuse me, are you Cain?" The soldier asked.

Magnus gave a silent nod.

"Understood. We were told to inform you that Sir Alwen and Sir Kolten are waiting for you upstairs," the soldier explained, pointing toward the stairway. It led to the second floor—a half-level that overlooked the bar below, offering a bit more privacy.

"Got it." Magnus started toward the stairs, and the soldiers quickly cleared a path for him as he passed.

Unlike the floor below, the second level was a lot more empty. The tables up there were larger and spaced out into booths, though one table had been dragged into the center of the space. That's where Magnus saw them—Alwen and Kolten, leaning over the table under the warm orange glow of a lantern. A map had been laid out across it, and both men were focused on its details.

They'd felt him arrive, of course, and turned around the moment he stepped onto the level.

"Oh, good, you're here. Guess that means we can begin," Kolten remarked, gesturing him over.

Before the operation started, Magnus had already let them know he'd be working under a mask—posing as Cain—to keep his real identity under wraps. Some people already knew who he was and why he mattered, but thanks to the Major General's efforts, it wasn't public knowledge.

Magnus intended to keep it that way.

So, for the mission's duration, they'd all agreed to call him Cain. Thankfully, with the rest of the faction off in their own isolated teams and groups, he didn't need to act too differently.

"Is everyone in position?" Magnus asked as he came to a stop beside the table. The map they were looking at was a layout of the sealed waterways beneath Arlcliff City—the hidden foundation of Nightshade's base. Several points were marked: entrance routes, team placements, and the locations where their soldiers would be splitting up.

Alwen gave a short nod and started pointing out sections of the map.

"They should be. It's about that time. Our scouts confirmed your intel—there's been Nightshade activity underground. One of the sealed entrances is actually in the basement of this pub. We've already unsealed it. That's how we'll get in."

Kolten joined in, pointing at one of the maintenance halls they'd pass through after entering from the pub's basement.

"Once we get here, we'll have two paths forward," he said, tracing his hand to another part of the map, just beyond where he'd pointed.

"According to your intel, the executives will be holding their meeting here. There's only one way in or out—but that entrance splits into two hallways. To keep them from escaping or things going sideways, Alwen and I will take the right path and clear it. You'll go through the left. Let the soldiers handle any stragglers. Once we link up at the entrance, we'll catch them all in one sweep—whether they're ready for us or not. The only real concern is that we still don't know how strong the executives actually are."

Kolten didn't hide his frustration at that, but Alwen just let out a sigh.

"We can't afford to delay the op any longer to figure that out. We'll have to play it safe. You can handle the left side on your own, right?"

Magnus glanced at him and gave a short nod.

"Of course."

That was enough for Alwen. He turned back to the map, this time pointing to the other entry points encircling the executives' meeting area—farther out compared to their own route.

"We've split your friends into different teams and balanced them with an even number of squads and with whatever Adept-level knights we still have available acting as an outer net just in case. They should be able to easily hold their ground against the kind of resistance we're expecting. But... like Kolten mentioned, we're walking in with a lot less information than we'd like."

Magnus studied the map a moment longer, locking in every detail before speaking.

"Then we'll just have to be thorough. No mistakes."

Alwen and Kolten exchanged a brief look, then nodded.

"Right."

"No point dragging this out," Alwen added, stepping away from the table toward the railing that overlooked the main floor below.

"We've kept scouts on watch for any signs of the Nightshades' information network, but so far, nothing. So even if this isn't exactly a stealth op, we've still got the advantage of surprise."

He then raised his voice, loud enough for everyone downstairs to hear.

"We're heading into the enemy's base in minutes! Make your final checks and get in formation! We move the moment the flare goes up!"

His voice cut through the pub like a bell. Instantly, the soldiers on the ground floor sprang into action, moving faster now with sharpened focus.

"Yes, sir!" Came the unified response, echoing through the wooden beams of the old building.

Magnus, Alwen, and Kolten began making their way down the stairs toward the basement after that.

As they walked, Kolten glanced over his shoulder at Magnus behind him.

"By the way, are those magical artifices?" He was referring to the Noscrafts, of course. Kolten had already noticed the gauntlets, bracers, and sword Magnus now wore—gear he hadn't seen on him before. The mask Luden gave Magnus was impressive in that way. Its perception-filter runes didn't just hide his face; they seamlessly blended his new equipment into the look of Cain's usual outfit.

"That's right," Magnus answered.

"Figured there's no point going in unprepared."

Kolten gave a short nod.

"Smart. Best to be ready for anything."

"Exactly," Alwen added.

From the first floor, they headed for the stairway behind the door located behind the bar, and just like the rest of the pub, lanterns had been set up to keep things lit—though neither Magnus nor the others really needed them to see.

The basement was stone from floor to ceiling, and about what you'd expect from a long-abandoned pub. If anything, it was even dustier than upstairs. Cobwebs clung to every corner, briefly catching the lantern light. The space wasn't large; it took less than a minute to walk from one end to the other. Wooden racks lined the walls, most of them empty now. A few still held old barrels that had long since dried out, and there were signs that wine had once been stored here, though that was clearly years ago.

The air was thick, but there was movement—just enough for Magnus to notice. His eyes drifted toward the far wall, where he spotted a passage. It looked like it had once been a doorway, now half-revealed. Rubble was piled on either side of it, and nearby were tools for digging and mining—picks, shovels, and half-buried crates of stone.

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Whatever had sealed the passage had been torn open, exposing the way down into the underground tunnels.

"Huh. I expected it to be at least a little flooded, considering how long it's been sealed off," Magnus said, peering into the dark corridor that stretched underground.

Alwen let out a soft breath.

"Well, the City Council doesn't exactly play nice with us, but back in the day, they did have some standards."

He stepped up beside Magnus and explained, "These waterways were built before the city redid its entire sewage system. The old tunnels didn't match the new layout, so they were drained and sealed off. They're deeper than the current tunnels now. From what we've gathered, Nightshade doesn't actually use the waterways themselves—but the maintenance halls built alongside them. Basically, a network of service corridors and empty rooms meant to let workers access the infrastructure for repairs or future expansion."

Just as Alwen finished his explanation, the sound of fast, armored footsteps echoed from the stairs behind them. All three turned to see a soldier descending, who quickly saluted and reported.

"Sirs, all preparations are complete. We're ready to move in formation!"

Kolten gave a firm nod.

"Good. Get everyone down here, and launch the flare."

"Yes, sir!" The soldier answered before hurrying back up the stairs.

Moments later, the fifty soldiers who had been preparing above began filing into the basement, their armor gleaming, weapons polished, expressions serious. They were ready.

Meanwhile, upstairs, two soldiers had stayed behind. Instead of heading down, they moved to one of the equipment stations in the corner. One of them knelt, unwrapping a dry cloth to reveal a black cylindrical object with a fuse coiled tightly around its base. It was large enough to require both hands as he stood, lifting it with care. The second soldier followed close behind, carrying a set of matches.

They climbed to the second floor and approached the nearest window. It was boarded up from the inside, but that didn't stop them. They set the device down for a moment and got to work—peeling away the boards, then using the hilt of a sword to shatter the glass. The sound of breaking glass was almost swallowed by the roar of the storm, which now rushed into the pub, unhindered.

They'd chosen this window on purpose. The wind wasn't blowing directly in, so the rain wouldn't ruin the device.

"Alright, get ready to light the fuse," the first soldier said, gripping the device again and angling it toward the open window. The top half of the cylinder stuck out into the open air, aimed at the dark, stormy sky.

The second soldier nodded, uncoiled the fuse, then knelt and struck a match. The flame flared to life, quickly catching the fuse. Sparks hissed as the fire raced up the line, faster than expected. Then, with a sharp burst, the flare launched—nearly knocking the device from the first soldier's grip.

For a moment, nothing could be seen. Then high above the city, something ignited.

It wasn't loud like thunder, but it was bright—an eruption of light that bloomed like fire in the sky. Despite the wind and rain, it lingered, hanging in place, unaffected by the weather.

A beacon.

In that moment, it became visible across the Lower City. Everyone who had been waiting—every squad, every operative in position—saw it.

•

A short distance north of the pub, an observation tower pierced into the sky. At its summit, four figures stood—two soldiers and the twins, Sylas and Syrna.

Syrna was seated on the edge of the tower wall, legs swinging idly as she stared out across the city, now fully visible from their height.

She let out a quiet sigh. "You know... It's been storming so long, I'm starting to forget what a bright blue sky even looks like."

From where he was sitting against a nearby pillar, Sylas cracked an eye open at her words.

"I thought you liked the rain."

"I do. Usually," Syrna replied, stretching as she looked back at him.

"But not when it's-" She stopped mid-sentence. Both she and Sylas suddenly turned in sync, heads snapping toward the same part of the sky. A moment later, a bright light erupted in the distance—right where their eyes had landed.

"That's the signal!" One of the soldiers called out, immediately moving with his partner to prepare their own flare. They began setting it up without delay, facing a different direction to relay the signal further.

Syrna grinned and hopped down from the wall in one smooth motion, spinning on her heel.

"Finally. Time to get moving."

Sylas rose to his feet, following her toward the stairs that spiraled all the way down the tower. Their sealed entrance into the old waterway system was located at the base.

As they started descending, Sylas glanced at her.

"You put on the bracelet Luden gave you, right?"

"Yup," she answered, lifting her right arm to show off the ornate silver bracelet around her wrist. Its surface was etched with a full array of runes.

"What's this thing even do again?" She asked.

"It's a spell catalyst. Emergency use only," Sylas explained.

"Luden made one for each of us once he knew how many people were going in. If things go bad, we break it, and it'll teleport us to the edge of the city—somewhere safe."

"Ah, so it's literally a safety net," Syrna said.

She didn't sound surprised. Given who they were and what they were getting involved in, it made perfect sense that Luden would plan ahead. He wasn't the only one, either—when they all met briefly before splitting into teams, she'd noticed others wearing similar protective items.

Everyone had taken at least some precautions.

Back at the top of the observation tower, the second flare was launched. It rocketed upward, breaking through the wind and rain before bursting in the sky just like the first—an explosion of light in the storm's grip.

•

In a distant alleyway, southeast of the tower where the twins were stationed, Blair sat on the steps of an old building, sheltered beneath its overhang.

Leaning against the wall beside him was Reimun.

The two had been paired together for a simple reason: Blair was a mage, and Reimun a knight. The combination made for the most reliable supernatural formation—especially since Blair wasn't well-suited for close-quarters combat.

As they waited in silence, the glow of a flare bloomed in the sky far above them, just visible through the gaps in the surrounding rooftops.

"It's time," Reimun said, straightening and pushing off the wall.

"And here I was starting to enjoy the weather," Blair added, rising to his feet and dusting himself off before following close behind as they turned the corner into a narrow alley next to their building.

There, a squad of soldiers was already gathered, cloaked against the rain. Their attention was focused on a cleared section of ground where the pavement had been dug up. At its center was a sealed hatch—what used to be a direct ladder chute leading down into the old waterways.

Like the others, it had been covered up long ago.

•

Farther out, in another part of the Lower City, Jalud stood atop a rooftop. Just like the pub Magnus was in, the building beneath him had an old sealed entrance tucked away in its basement. Rain pelted the streets below, and the storm winds howled overhead, but not a single drop touched Jalud's body. His clothes didn't shift or ripple, held still by an invisible force that wrapped around him like a second skin.

He seemed idle at first, staring up at the churning sky—until flares began blooming in the distance, casting light into the clouds.

At last, he moved.

Turning, he looked toward the only other figure on the roof with him.

Originally, one of the twins had been assigned to accompany Jalud, the usual pairing of mage and knight. But Jalud had refused. He wanted a challenge, a chance to push himself—and made it clear. It almost started an argument right then and there, but Magnus defused the tension by assigning Niall to join him instead, with one condition: Niall was not to interfere unless absolutely necessary.

The real shock had come when Magnus revealed that he had managed to subjugate a vampire. There had been no time to dwell on the implications, though.

For Magnus, it was also a chance to test Niall. The vampire had successfully stabilized the immense energy he absorbed from the Hierarchs, but he still lacked their unique traits and abilities. He suspected he needed time and enemies to develop them, and what better source for both than the raid itself.

Jalud stared at him for a moment before asking, "Your kind is immortal, right?"

"Yes," Niall answered flatly. The respectful tone he reserved for Magnus was gone. His loyalty didn't extend to anyone else. Not to mention, the mentality he had as a vampire still hadn't changed. As far as Niall was concerned, humans could be split into prey, potential slaves, or not worth his attention—mages included, unless they were strong enough to make him think otherwise.

"So if this mission ends up being too easy," Jalud continued, "and I asked Cain to let me fight you, I wouldn't need to hold back? I wouldn't have to worry about killing you?"

Niall's gaze lingered on him for a moment before responding.

"If we fought, your death—or mine—would be the least of your concerns, human."

Jalud held his stare a second longer, then turned and began walking toward the rooftop entrance.

"I see."

•

The last team of Luden's faction was stationed south of Magnus, Alwen, and Kolten's position. It consisted of Luden himself and Seraline, forming the final mage-and-knight pairing.

Unlike the others, they and their assigned soldiers were already underground, waiting in one of the newer sewer tunnels. Their entry point into Nightshade's base had been built over by a more recent construction.

A few soldiers had lanterns hanging from their belts, casting flickering light through the damp, narrow corridor. Down here, there was no natural illumination—only the faint glow from the ladder shaft they'd descended through to get here in the first place. The air echoed with the roar of rushing water, the constant storm above turning the sewer's flow into a violent, surging current.

Neither Luden nor Seraline seemed fazed by the location. Luden stood off to the side while Seraline focused on her spear. It had been a while since she'd lost her other arm, and though she'd adapted to the change, wielding her signature weapon single-handedly was still something she was getting used to.

The background noise of soldiers shifting and checking gear faded as Luden finally spoke.

"I'm surprised you're so focused on fighting with one arm, considering how hard your family's been pushing the Church to restore it."

Seraline lowered her spear slightly, then glanced over at him.

"I was taught to look for growth in every situation," she said.

"I believe that lesson can be applied literally—even to something like losing an arm."

She paused, thinking for a moment before continuing, her tone steady.

"There's no guarantee I won't be restrained in the future—no guarantee I won't lose it again, or be limited in how I fight because of something beyond my control. If that's the case, then now's the best time to prepare for it. While I have no choice."

Luden listened in silence, then nodded thoughtfully.

"I see. So.... prosper in adversity, and struggle through success?"

Seraline blinked at that phrasing, then gave a small nod.

"I suppose."

Just as she answered, a soldier's voice rang out from above.

"The signals have been sent up!" That was the cue everyone had been waiting for.

The soldiers in the tunnel immediately sprang into motion, moving toward the designated entrance. Lanterns swung at their waists, their footsteps splashing through the shallow runoff as they assembled.

Luden glanced around as the group stirred, then straightened up with a stretch.

"Well, looks like it's time. Let's hope this goes smoothly, shall we?"