Chapter 27 A Fragile Convoy

It had been a few days since the ship departed, and I’d been lying low, faking my investigation while carefully observing the dynamics aboard. I had a good sense of when Mathilda would finally make her move against me, probably by the time we docked at our destination. Every free moment I had was spent practicing my card-throwing techniques and rehearsing strategies to turn the tables on Mathilda when the time came, they would all eventually lead to victory.

Royal’s plan was becoming clearer to me. I was bait, a pawn to lure out the traitor, but the big question still loomed: how would he identify them? I hadn’t seen any sign of Royal himself aboard this ship. Maybe he was relying on the Pride capes to act as enforcers, the hammer to punish the traitor once their identity was revealed.

But that theory had holes. The Pride capes didn’t exactly scream detective material. Of the people among board, Sharpy seemed like the most likely to have any investigative experience, but even her skills felt surface-level. And then there was the mystery cargo.

The more I thought about it, the more I doubted it was a Precog-9. A Precog of that caliber would’ve made this whole cloak-and-dagger unnecessary. Royal could’ve simply asked them for the traitor’s identity and avoided all this subterfuge. The fact that he hadn’t suggested the cargo wasn’t a solution but another piece of bait, just like me, to force the traitor to act.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew what—or who—was inside that cargo. The thought gnawed at the back of my mind, unspoken but insistent.

I was deep in meditation in my room, focusing on clearing my thoughts, when my roommate interrupted.

Sharpy leaned against the doorframe, her expression tense but unreadable. “The ship’s about to make port. Stay sharp now,” she said.

I stood up, stretching the stiffness out of my limbs. There hadn’t been many fights since we left port... just the occasional harassment from Seamark’s pirates. But strangely, they’d disappeared completely halfway through the voyage. It was as if something—or—someone had spooked them.

Sharpy was already heading for the door when I asked, “How did your investigation go? Any new leads? Jonas?”

She shook her head, her brow furrowing slightly. “None. But I think the Pride capes are starting to get suspicious of me. Not as much as they hate you, though.”

I let out a dry chuckle, more out of habit than humor. “Comforting. Anything else?”

Sharpy hesitated, then shook her head again. “Just… watch your back out there. Things are going to get tense as soon as we dock.”

“Tense is my default setting.”

I stepped onto the deck and was greeted by the sprawling sight of Deadend, the City of Outlaws. It sprawled along the jagged cliffs and shores of the far northern peninsula, perched precariously between the scattered archipelagos of the Faustian Continent and the Hesperian Continent we had departed from. The city's skyline was a chaotic blend of rusting spires, smoke-stained domes, and the glow of countless neon signs. It looked like a place where lawlessness thrived—a haven for those who had no place in the structured world beyond.

Beside me, Sharpy stretched her arms and yawned, her exhaustion from the journey apparent. She turned to me with a half-smile. “First time here, Eclipse? Welcome to Deadend... paradise of outlaws.”

I looked out over the bustling harbor where ships of all shapes and sizes were docked, their crews scurrying to unload cargo or barter for supplies. The air was thick with the smell of saltwater, oil, and something faintly metallic that I couldn’t place. A cacophony of shouting voices, distant music, and the hum of machinery formed a symphony of chaos that seemed fitting for the place.

“Paradise, huh?” I replied, my voice tinged with sarcasm. “Looks more like a deathtrap.”

Sharpy chuckled and leaned against the railing. “It’s both, depending on how good you are at staying out of trouble. Stick close to the wrong people, and Deadend will swallow you whole. But if you know how to play your cards...” She trailed off, giving me a pointed look.

I smirked under my mask, understanding her insinuation. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good at surviving.”

She shrugged. “Good. You’ll need it. This place is crawling with people who’d stab you in the back for pocket change.”

I turned back to the city, watching the throngs of people moving like a tide through its narrow streets and alleys. It wasn’t just outlaws here—there were merchants hawking wares, entertainers performing for scraps, and children weaving through the crowds with wide, curious eyes. For all its dangers, Deadend was alive in a way that was almost hypnotic.

“Why does Pride have business here?” I asked Sharpy, keeping my voice low.

She glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot. “Deadend’s a neutral zone, or as close as you can get to one. No major faction wants to claim it outright because it’s too much of a headache to manage. But that also makes it the perfect place for deals, trades, and other... arrangements. Pride’s not the only one who uses it.”

I nodded, filing that information away. “What about the cargo?”

Her smile faded, and she lowered her voice further. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. Whatever it is, it’s important enough to drag us all the way out here, through fights that could’ve easily gotten us killed. And now, we’re in the lion’s den.”

I scanned the harbor, noting the armed guards and surveillance equipment hidden in plain sight. “Feels more like the lion’s buffet,” I muttered.

Sharpy snorted and nudged me with her elbow. “Welcome to the menu, Eclipse. Try not to get eaten.”

The ship began to slow as we approached the dock, the creaking of its hull mingling with the shouts of dockworkers below. I felt the weight of the city pressing down on me already, a heavy reminder that we were far from safe here.

“Let’s stay sharp,” I said, gripping the railing.

Sharpy nodded, her demeanor turning serious. “Agreed. Things are about to get interesting.”

Other capes milled around the deck, some leaning against the railings while others exchanged quiet words. The ship’s crew worked tirelessly, securing lines and preparing to unload whatever cargo we had risked our necks to protect. The salty breeze carried the distant hum of Deadend's chaotic energy.

Mathilda stood near the center of the deck, her military fatigues looking crisp despite the long voyage. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the group with practiced efficiency, taking stock of each of us. Her demeanor screamed authority, but I couldn't help seeing the layers beneath—the theatrics, the manipulation, the ulterior motives.

She clasped her hands behind her back and raised her voice, effortlessly commanding attention. “Berserker, Gladiatress, and Sharpy will stay here for guard duty.”

The statement made my stomach churn. It was too neat, too convenient. Sharpy, one of the few I’d managed to rope into my plans, was being kept here while the rest of us marched into who-knew-what. Mathilda couldn’t have known what I was planning... but her timing was impeccable, as if she had an uncanny knack for cutting the legs out from under me.

Of course, to anyone else, the arrangement probably seemed perfectly reasonable. Sharpy was more than capable of holding her ground. Berserker and Gladiatress were Pride capes, loyal to Royal to the bones. To me, it screamed of being cut off from allies at a crucial moment. I glanced at Lion King. I wondered what made him special.

Mathilda continued, “The rest of you will be joining me for the following operation. You’ll receive your assignments once we’re inside Deadend.”

I fought the urge to glance at Sharpy, keeping my focus on Mathilda instead. It wouldn’t do to let my suspicions show, not with her constant eavesdropping. Sharpy shot me a quick look as the group began to disperse, her expression unreadable. I gave her a subtle nod, a silent assurance that I’d keep moving forward.

“Eclipse,” Mathilda called, her tone sharp. “A word.”

I resisted the urge to sigh and turned to face her. “Yes, Captain?”

She waved the others off, waiting until they were out of earshot. Or at least out of normal earshot. I had no doubt she’d still hear every syllable exchanged between them.

“I want you to keep an eye on Vortex during this mission,” she said, her voice dropping slightly. “He’s been... erratic since our last engagement. I can’t afford any loose cannons on this job.”

“Understood,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

Mathilda held my gaze for a moment longer, as if searching for something. “Good. Make sure you’re ready. We move in ten minutes.”

With that, she turned on her heel and marched toward the gangplank, leaving me standing there.

I took a slow breath, calming the storm of thoughts in my head. Mathilda was playing her game, whatever it was, but so was I. And I wasn’t about to lose.

I made my way over to Sharpy, keeping my movements casual. “Looks like you’re staying behind,” I said quietly.

“Seems like it,” she replied, her voice equally low. “Any ideas why?”

I shook my head, not willing to risk saying too much. “Just stay sharp. If anything happens, you know how to find me.”

Sharpy nodded, understanding the unspoken message. “Good luck out there, Eclipse.”

The Triplets stood in a tight triangle near the ship’s loading dock, their hands glowing faintly as they focused their collective power. Despite their Teleport-2 ratings, their synergy allowed them to handle larger-scale transportation jobs like this. With a hum and a brief flash of light, the cargo vanished from the dock and reappeared on the bed of a waiting truck.

I made my way to the convoy’s designated meeting point, where the armored vans were already being prepped. The first van, positioned behind the truck, would serve as a defensive shield, while the two trailing vans acted as escorts.

Near the lead van, Jonas, Vortex, and Lion King stood waiting. Jonas, always approachable, gave me a nod as I approached. He was the same as ever—dark-skinned, wearing military fatigues that seemed more suited to a diplomat than a soldier. His amiable smile didn’t waver, as if he thrived on being the stabilizing presence in any situation.

Vortex stood a few paces away, leaning against the armored vehicle. His cracked helmet hadn’t been replaced; the jagged line running across it was a stark reminder of the recent battle. Despite his usual air of aloofness, there was a tension in his posture I hadn’t seen before.

And then there was Lion King. If his appearance was meant to intimidate, it certainly succeeded. His black-and-gold armor gleamed in the sunlight, the intricate designs radiating a sense of regality. A literal lion’s mane cloaked his shoulders, adding an almost theatrical flair to his already imposing figure. His dark skin contrasted sharply with the golden accents of his armor, and his confident eyes peered out from behind a domino mask, as if daring anyone to challenge his authority.

I spared Lion King a glance, careful not to linger too long. His type thrived on being noticed, and I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I focused on Jonas. “We’re all set?”

“Just about,” Jonas replied, his tone light. “The Triplets did their part, so now it’s on us to make sure this cargo gets where it needs to go.”

Vortex pushed off the van and crossed his arms. “Let’s just hope there aren’t any surprises waiting for us. Seamark’s been quiet lately, and that doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Agreed,” Lion King said, his voice deep and commanding. “Quiet seas breed complacency. Stay sharp out there. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

His words might have been meant for the group, but I couldn’t help feeling they were directed at me. Mathilda’s influence, no doubt. I nodded, keeping my expression neutral.

Jonas clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. “Alright, let’s load up and get this show on the road. Time to earn our paychecks. Trust me, the bonus is gonna be big! So cheer up, fellas!”

I climbed into the van, taking a seat near the back. The interior was cramped, lined with reinforced plating and minimal comforts. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in a setup like this, but something about this mission made the walls feel a little closer than usual.

As the convoy began to roll out, I glanced out the narrow window, watching the sprawling chaos of Deadend fade into the distance. Whatever lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain: this was only the calm before the storm.