The Simulacrum
~Chapter 167~ Part 2

Polished red marble floors. Luxuriant hardwood wall panels. Wall-mounted lamps depicting brass mermaids holding the lights. Walking through the various assorted hallways of Ottawa's School of Restoration, I once again couldn't help but wonder if this place was especially extravagant, or if the School at home was uniquely austere in the grand scheme of things. Actually, why didn't I just ask?

"Hey, Ambrose? Is it normal for Schools to be this fancy?"

"Is that seriously something you want to ask in this situation?" the arch-mage asked back in a hiss, visibly miffed by my well-meaning inquiry.

"What? You've been to other Assembly Schools, so if anyone could give me a proper answer, it's you."

"This isn't the situation for idle talk like that!" he snapped at me, drawing everyone's attention.

It didn't make much of a difference though, and we continued to walk through the facility without any obstructions. Not that I expected anyone to stop us; even though we were out of the Purple Zone, we were also surrounded on all sides by the so-called combat response squad, and while some placeholder Magi stopped to gawk at us, things were proceeding smoothly.

"Calm down. Everything's going according to plan, so no need to be so tense."

"What 'plan'?! You just surrendered to them!"

"Yes. That's what I just said. All according to plan."

The bearded arch-mage continued to huff and puff, but since he apparently wouldn't answer my original question, I lightly shrugged and continued to walk. I wasn't kidding when I said things were proceeding well. Our biggest problem was that we had no idea where to find the Grimoire Key, and fighting through the whole School while looking for it was a terrible solution. Luckily, I had something better in mind.

Quick recap: since I was the acting Narrative at the moment, I could subconsciously influence the scenario of the Simulacrum. As much as I hated to accept it, the process was also ridiculously easy to hack by employing some meditative and self-suggestion practices. But then what if we took all that, and purposefully applied it to the current situation?

My hypothesis was that if this part of the Simulacrum was under-defined, which made it especially 'vulnerable' to my retconning ability, it logically followed that it had to be easier to affect by other means as well. To test it, I took a ten-minute break to practice some self-hypnosis, and while it wasn't nearly as pleasant as the usual sessions due to a lack of relaxing music and my girlfriend's thighs, it was undeniably effective.

After that, I shifted my Leoformer to my school uniform and convinced the magi at the scene that we were the ones surrendering to them, after which we enjoyed an unopposed tour through the School without any further conflict or obstacles in our way. Until this point, that is.

"Halt! Where are you going?"

Our group was stopped by a gruff-looking man backed by more muscle-mages, and based on the deferential treatment the people surrounding us gave him, he must've been their superior. He was tall, if not nearly as muscular as the rest, with mostly unremarkable features under a wide-brimmed black hat.

"We're taking them to interrogation after we surrendered," the guy leading our group, the one with the beard from before, stated firmly, and I couldn't help but interject by clearing my throat.

"He means that we surrendered," I cut in and raised my cuffed hands for illustration. The people surrounding us nodded along like it was obvious.

"Yes, that's what I said. They surrendered, and we're taking them to interrogation after we surrendered."

Oh, man. These placeholders were built different, that's for sure. I almost felt sorry for manipulating them like this. Maybe I should send them some gift baskets once we're done here. Or chocolate. Or maybe gift baskets with chocolate. I'll figure it out by then.

"Then what are you doing here? The holding cells are down at the bottom floor!" the behatted mage continued to raise entirely valid complaints, so I interjected again.

"It's because we're VIP captives, and the arch-mage needs to question us personally."

"That goes without saying," the man in front of us scoffed as if I just stated the obvious.

"And so we're being taken to her office. Where the Grimoire Key is," I insisted, just to be sure.

"Well, of course. Where else would it be? Are you dumb, or something?" he grumbled again and stepped aside. "On your way then. And keep a close eye on the mouthy one."

"Yes, certainly," our group leader responded briskly, and we started moving again.

"Ambrose?"

"Hm?"

"Once we're done here, remind me not to send any gift baskets to that guy."

The arch-mage squinted at me in disapproval for a while, but instead of responding to that, he threw his hands in the air.

"I still can't figure out what kind of spell you used to make all this happen, but I don't like it!"

"Don't be so over-dramatic. It's working fine, and we're being taken to the Grimoire Key."

"No, we're being taken to Marzanna!" His own retort made him pause and exhale a groan right after. "Right, this is going to be trouble. I should prepare for a battle instead of arguing with you like this!"

"Don't worry. I'm sure she'll be very reasonable."

"Yeah, and I'm sure pigs will start raining from the sky at any second now, but I'm still going to prepare myself for the more realistic scenario."

That sounded very pessimistic, so I normally would've wholeheartedly approved, but for once I had to deny his words on principle. I spent half my self-suggestion session telling myself that the local arch-mage would be perfectly rational, and I had to maintain that belief if I wanted to make it stick through my reverse-Narrative-influence.

…

Also, for the record: Bloody freaking hell! I still couldn't believe it was that easy to hijack this world's innner workings, but there was little I could do about it. For now, I just silently followed our 'captors' through the School, pointedly ignoring the covertly chanting Lord Ambrose and his occasional flashes of colourless magical light by my side. It didn't take long to reach our destination, and for once, I was met with something recognisable.

"Finally a familiar sight," I whispered as I beheld the large double doors covered in a spider-web of smouldering, interlocked magical circles and other layered enchantments.

"Lord Marzanna! We've brought the intruders!" the bearded muscle-man leading our procession called out without any magical preamble, and a few short seconds later the wings of the door flared up bright and began to move.

The office on the other side had roughly the same dimensions as Lord Grandpa's, which might've been another one of those 'because that was my only frame of reference, and the Simulacrum bent to my expectations' situations, but I put the thought out of mind for the moment.

The floor under our feet was covered in extravagant Persian carpets, while shelves lining the left and right walls were stuffed with cups, plaques and framed certificates on one side, and rows of leather-bound books on the other. The wrought iron chandelier over our heads was also pretty neat, but the two most striking details in the room were definitely its owner, closely followed by the odd wooden pedestal in the corner at the far right. But one thing at a time.

The local arch-mage stood in front of her desk and appeared to be in her late sixties. She was dressed in a simple black dress under a set of loose white robes, creating an odd contrast. Her hair was a fifty-fifty mix of raven-black and aged grey strands, and the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes would've given her a bit of a resting-bitch-face even if she wasn't actively glaring bloody murder at us at the moment. She held a plain gnarled wooden staff in one hand, and all things considered, she was one oversized hat and some pointy shoes away from passing for a witch on Halloween.

"And thus, the conspirators make their grand entrance upon the stage." Her voice, both raspy yet melodious, was colder than her glare, and she followed it up by tapping her staff against the floor. It sent a barely perceptible ripple across the room and caused the door to close. Again, so far, so familiar.

"Conspirators? What the hell are you talking about?"

Ambrose's fiery response only made her glare at us even harder, and after a long beat, she pointed right at me.

"Did you not bring your Celestial collaborator yourself? Or is he your new master, traitor?"

"Zywie! Are you out of your mind?!"

"Don't you dare take my name upon your—"

"Excuse me? Can I get a word in?" I casually slipped out of the magical manacles on my hands and raised my palms as a show of non-hostility. "Can we first sit down and talk this out like adults?"

"Silence!" The arch-mage's hiss was filled to the brim with undisguised scorn, but I pressed on.

"Now, now. No need to be rude. Allow me to introduce myself." I let my hands down and tugged on my blazer, a habit I developed from playing Bel too much. "I'm sure you're aware, but I'm Leonard S. Dunning of many titles, and I'm here to negotiate."

"I'm well acquainted with your name and your face, interloper," Lord Marzanna scoffed. "And your titles hold no power here!"

"Sure, that's why I didn't mention any of them," I continued, trying my best to remain civil. Why did I have a feeling that if we met just a few months ago, she would've been one of those people whose mere presence made me irrationally disagreeable? Either way, I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm only here to discuss certain sensitive topics, along with Lord Ambrose. Isn't that right?"

I was waiting for the bearded arch-mage to back me up, but Marzanna beat him to the punch with a disdainful harrumph.

"Your actions speak louder than your words, Celestial scum! Your invasion of the sanctuary of this school and the destruction of its protectors will not go unanswered!"

"For the record, I'm calling self-defence on that one. Completely justified." She continued to stare daggers at me, so I quickly pivoted. "Not to mention, as soon as the hostilities were resolved, we peacefully surrendered ourselves. Isn't that right?"

This time my question was aimed at the leader of the Magi task force, and unlike Ambrose, he responded on the spot.

"Indeed, we… they surrendered peacefully."

Oh, look at that. Already developing beyond his template. How neat.

More importantly, the local arch-mage remained completely unconvinced.

"You may wag your poisonous tongue as much as you want, contemptible Celestial mongrel, but your honeyed words will find no purchase here! Your kind are nothing but a scourge of the land, a throng of despicable backstabbers and scheming serpents! To trust you is akin to accepting a scorpion onto one's bosom, and the day your reprobate kin will disappear from the face of this Earth will be one marked as a red-letter day by history!"

"… Well, damn," I whispered, feeling genuinely taken aback by her tirade. "I mean, you're not entirely wrong, but still, a racist rant against Celestials wasn't on my BINGO card for today." My words were followed by a chilling silence, so I raised my palms again and pivoted again, accompanied by a forced smile. "Don't worry. We all have bad days when we say things we don't actually mean, and I won't hold it against you. How about we just ignore all that, water under the bridge, and just focus on the actual reason why we're here?"

Following that, I unsubtly pointed at the far-right corner of the room, drawing everyone's attention to it. Past the shelves and surrounded by all kinds of wards stood a single wooden pedestal with a complex glowing magic circle carved into its top, stuffed to the brim with all kinds of archaic magic symbols and whatnot. Way more importantly, there was a familiar small pebble floating over said pedestal, surrounded by so much magical energy it was hard to properly see it from this distance due to all the blinding magic lights.

"So you reveal your true colors, at last!" Marzanna accused me by pointing her staff at us, making me more confused than anything.

"Reveal? I thought it was rather explicit that it's why we're here."

"I've sworn a binding oath," she continued, completely disregarding my objection. "An oath to safeguard the heritage of the Magi from the hands of our enemies!"

"Technically, it'll be for the hands of the Magi," I corrected her. "My friend really needs that to live a normal life again."

"Silence, Celestial scum!"

"Okay, calm down. You're slipping again," I warned her, but she just waved her staff at me again.

"Men, restrain them at once, and throw them into the deepest bowels of the School!" The butt of her staff hit the floor and a torrent of magic erupted, though it didn't seem to have other purpose than intimidation. "I shall attend to their proper interrogation later!"

I glanced over at Ambrose and blurted out, "I guess the negotiations broke down, eh?"

"No surprise here," he huffed back, followed by a slightly more contemplative. "You were right about her being more sensible than usual, but it was still inevitable."

"Whoa, slow down! This is her when she's sensible?!"

Ambrose had no chance to respond, because our escort followed her command and started closing in on us, so I donned my Lion Knight armour once more and got ready to move.

"Change of plans. Smash and grab now, deal with the fallout later."

"Which is what we should've done from the beginning!" he spoke spiritedly and then added, "Cover your ears!"

"Wait, wha—?"

Not a moment later, the spell Ambrose had been secretly preparing ahead of time flew out of his sleeve and then promptly exploded into a rainbow spectrum of light and a deafening boom that staggered everyone in the office, including myself.

"Bloody hell! Couldn't you give me a bit more forewarning before flashbanging the room!?"

"Focus, Leonard! Focus!"

Rolling my eyes, I shoulder-tackled the closest muscle mage to open a hole in the encirclement and aimed at the pedestal holding the Grimoire Key. I could feel some magic activating on contact with the man, but I already had my phantom limbs raised in advance, so it didn't reach me. Meanwhile, I slipped through and reached the corner of the room in a second.

"No! Stop him at once!" the resident arch-mage screamed and she raised her staff over her head in preparation for some big spell.

I couldn't care less. I swept one phantom limb over the orb hovering in the air and one under it, and as I made contact, all of the defensive wards and other assorted utility spells shorted out, including the one that was keeping my target afloat. It wasn't a problem though, as I easily snatched it out of the air with an obligatory "Yoink!" in tow.

"How dare you!?"

Marzanna levelled her staff against me, her face an incarnate of fury. In a flash, a torrent of white threads exploded in my direction, like a blizzard of spider silk. I had no idea whether that was how the spell was supposed to look or if was just my unique perception making it appear that way. Nor did I know what it was supposed to do, but when a slightly unhinged old lady threw something like that at you, it was prudent to be cautious about it, and since I had phantom limbs for days, I used them without restraint.

The threads of the spell continued to cascade towards me, but as long as I kept swiping at them, there was no chance for any of it to reach me. The deluge abated before long and revealed a stunned face behind me, with Lord Marzanna looking at me with a mixture of bewilderment and hatred. I didn't much care for that, but there was no need to drag it out any longer with small talk.

"Got what we came for!" I yelled over to Ambrose, only to freeze when I saw him being subdued by three muscle-bound Magi.

In retrospect, that made sense; we were in an enclosed arena, and invocation spells took a while to cast, so it wasn't unexpected that they could reach him before he could put up a decent fight. I didn't just stay still while considering that though.

"Out of the way!"

Once again, the leader of the task force was on the receiving end of my foot as I sent him tumbling with a kick. The rest reacted fast, but not fast enough, and a punch was enough to send the guy trying to put the bearded arch-mage into a choke hold onto the floor.

"What are you doing?! Capture them!"

Marzanna's scream could've put a banshee to shame, but I tried to remain composed as I turned towards her.

"It was a ple—" Before I could finish that, I was suddenly tackled from behind. Oddly enough, my danger sense didn't warn me about it, and a moment later I could once again feel a spell activating as one of the muscle-mages hugged my back, almost as if preparing to suplex me. Whatever his plan might've been, I didn't give him the opportunity. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something."

For emphasis, I delivered a simple elbow strike onto his shoulder blade. Thanks to my outfit's physical enhancements (and my annoyance), the force ended up being a bit more than planned, and he let go of me with a 'Nyeh!' kind of groan before falling to the ground.

"As I was saying, we're done here, so let me bid you farewell. Once you're a bit calmer, please consider visiting Critias so we can discuss things under more civilized circumstances. Until then, bye."

I didn't wait for her to respond. I already had what we came for, as well as my phantom limbs around Ambrose, so there was no need to drag this out any further. A blink of an eye later, we were back on Critias. To be precise, inside the base, right next to the armoury section with rather startled Brang.

"[Blackcloak? Thy return at this hour was not foreseen,]" the old Faun greeted me with an odd look in his eyes.

"There were some unexpected developments and…" I began, only to fall silent when I noticed the man on the floor next to me. "Are you all right?"

"They got me," Ambrose heaved and tried to get up, but he only ended up flailing his limbs a bit. "I can't feel my arms."

We shared a glance with Brang and moved in unison. First things first, I shifted my Leoformer back to school uniform mode and then we carefully helped the arch-mage sit up.

"Damned restoration mages! The worst of the material schools, I tell you!"

He was animated and cursing, so I figured it couldn't have been that bad.

"I'll go call Jaakobah and have him take a look at you."

He didn't care about my reassurance.

"I'll live. Tell me, did you get the Grimoire Key?"

"I sure did." I opened my palm and showed him the marble, but then we all fell silent.

I couldn't see it back then, because of all the magical light pollution, but there was a prominent fracture running down almost the entire length of the orb. There was even some chipping on one side, with a small chunk of it missing.

"I don't think that a good sign," I commented in a whisper, only for the universal rules of timing to take my words as a challenge, and with a soft crack and a small pulse of green light, the Grimoire Key cleanly broke apart into two pieces.

"[Mine understanding of this matter be but scant, yet thine item appears... quite shattered.]"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

"[And I reckon that's most unfortunate.]"

"That's an understatement if I'd ever heard one..."

Brang let out a soft grunt, and we were slowly enveloped by a suffocating silence… for less than five seconds. Then it was broken by a new voice. One that only I could hear.

"{Chief, can you hear me, over?}"

"Huh? Dormouse?"

Brang's ears swivelled, while Ambrose was looking at me like I was delirious, so I raised a hand to my ear to signal that I was communicating with her.

"{I've got the Chief,}" my dear assistant said, probably to someone else near to her, then addressed me again. "{Where have you been? No, never mind, you can answer that later. We need you here, right now.}"

She sounded unusually tense, so I didn't mess around.

"What happened?"

"{Bel is here.}"

Her answer was short, but it took me a couple of long seconds to understand it, at which point the words "Goddamit, me!" involuntarily slipped out of my mouth.

"Hrm?"/"Huh?"

Ambrose and Brang were both stumped by my sudden outburst, but I didn't bother to explain myself and just unceremoniously passed the broken Grimoire Key over to the Faun and stood up.

"Please, look after him until I'm back. I'm needed elsewhere."

"[As thou command, Blackcloak.]"

I barely noted Brang inclining his head, because I was already in the process of looking for Judy's mark. One thing was for sure: this was definitely one of those days, and it was far from over…

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