Eternal Game of the 108 Chapter 14: False Starts (Patreon)

I drop my empty cup on the table at the same time as I grab my ID. Everything feels awkward, like I just woke up and I’m barely in control of my body. I feel slower, less responsive, but at the same time I am no longer exhausted and starving so… silver linings I suppose. The wall panel opens quickly this time, and my call is picked up on the spot.

“Please state the nature of your emergency,” an artificial voice says.

“My domicile is about to be attacked by an assassin,” I enunciate in my best Kei-Sah, as quickly as I can.

“Processing. Camera malfunction detected. Irregularity detected. Enforcers dispatched.”

Any second now.

“Hello, please state your name and citizen ID,” a woman’s voice asks.

“Steve Prentiss. Citizen ID is Alef Iryn Iryn Shah 874…”

It takes me a good eight seconds to read the number which I should really learn by heart just in case. Even though I try to hurry, I’m still cut off every time.

“Identity confirmed. I recommend putting your domicile in lockdown until the crisis has resolved. Do I have your approval?”

“You do.”

I feel the soul of the assassin moving along the corridor. He is cold and focused, not nervous at all. A real professional. He starts leaving as soon as the armored bobbies’ boots drum the ground on the corridor. I already ordered my clothes and the Defender by the time they knock on my door.” 

“Do you know why they might be after you?” one of them asks, voice modulated behind their mask.

“No, but the person who set up the apartment for me might. I just arrived so there is no reason why someone might already be going for me,” I answer.

To my surprise they make a note of it. I’m so used to being at the receiving end of the law enforcement stick that I hadn’t considered that as a citizen, I’m also protected. Until they find out someone claims I’m in their debt anyway.

“Very well. We advise you to seek professional security and to stay indoors until you get it.”

“Thanks,” I say, closing the connection.

I imagine they’re too busy to protect me themselves. They probably have a job or something. Anyway, now that I’m almost ready, there is only one thing left to do before packing. With hesitant fingers, I type a number on my datasheet’s phone service.

It’s weird how I know the number so well, yet my fingers hesitate on the keys because this is my first time calling it. It rings for some time. Krane just realized he’s the Avatar of Redemption. I guess he needs to process.

The call picks up. The voice on the other side is deep and gravelly, and raw. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, you’re Krane, the Avatar of Redemption. I’m Steve, Avatar of Time. Nice to meet you again.”

I hear him breathe on the other side.

“I know it’s hard to accept but we met in an alternate timeline. You told me not to share my identity too easily, but that’s the easiest way I know to convince you besides telling you I know something happened in Tulku —”

He gasps, or chokes. I’m not sure which, but I don’t need to feel his soul to know he’s hurting right now.

“But I don’t know what. You never told me.”

“Stop.”

I do. I wait. 

“Assuming… Assuming that I do believe you. What do you want?”

“I need help preventing a massive explosion that will devastate Enderlith, and eventually lead to the death of most everyone onboard by the end of the Year of Judgment.”

Another long pause follows. I don’t know where Krane ranks as an awakened, but I’m pretty sure he is fast enough not to make me wait.

“That’s… that’s impossible. Impossible. Enderlith has been conquered before, but it has never been exterminated.”

“I don’t think it’s ever been subjected to this much abuse.”

“Uh. I, uh, look, I’m under house arrest right now, but Redemption shall grant me reprieve with the city in return for my participation. I must face this first, and then I will contact you again at this number.”

“Wait, no, I won’t be here. I’ll call in a day or two after I’ve relocated, alright?”

“Leave a message if I don’t answer.”

He hangs up. Ah, but I miss proper conversationalists. And beer. And my Earth friends. Especially Saanvi because I haven’t made love in a year. Ah well. Better get to it. With the money chip maxed out, I consider asking Krane for help with the assassin but it would be a waste. Krane is no bodyguard. Anonymity and hiding will protect me while his skills are better used stopping the catastrophe. With one last sigh, I shoulder all my newly printed stuff (with extra stocks this time).

Maybe I could eat something before leaving. My mind insists I haven’t eaten anything in three days while my stomach insists I have just had a banana for dessert. Between the dissociation and my unawakened body, I feel like this body isn’t mine.

It’s not going to be like that every time, is it?  

With one last grumble, I shoulder my backpack and leave, ending the lockdown. I take the elevator down but this time, something different happens. It stops on the third floor.

What, why? And then I realize, I’m earlier than last time. I was much faster doing, well, everything. But also, I don’t feel anyone… My hand goes to the Defender before I can really think, the leftover from last loop’s constant fears. If I don’t detect a person then… I aim just as the door opens.

It takes perhaps half a second for the drone’s system to positively identify me. The confirmation beep takes less time than that but it still feels like an eternity. I shoot first.

The drone falls to the ground with a hiss of tortured electronics. Shit. The assassin must have still been collecting his scouts… He definitely knows that I’m out of my room now. Dammit! I should have just done everything exactly the same way! I step out of the elevator into an identical, beautifully decorated hallway. Stairs. I extend my perception to the nearest one through several apartments. One person’s hungry. One person is rushing up the stairs faster than a speeding bike,

Fuck me. I rush to the other side’s stair, almost slipping on the carpet. Fear eats at my guts. I push down on the panic, then on the temptation to reset the loop. No. I won’t do it anytime something goes wrong even though I would only be wasting an hour here. I refuse to give up.

But fuck I don’t want to die again. 

I push my way against the door just as it bangs open on the other side of the floor. Down. I need to get down. I adjust my perception while I sprint down the stairs which is much harder than it sounds. The assassin isn’t immediately coming. He’s moving very quickly around, so I guess at least he can’t sniff me out easily, but he still has drones to find me. I get down on the first floor just as he enters the stairway above me. The lobby. I’ve never been there yet. It looks super fancy, all in clean whites and ample light which lets me pick the silver sheen of the drone watching the other staircase on the opposite sude. By some miracle, a rush of fireworks hides the sound of my door opening. It doesn’t turn and put a bullet through my skull so I guess I get to live. Behind me, the assassin is falling down the staircase. No time to hesitate. I race out of the exit. Something buzzes past my head.

Holy shit, the drone missed? It missed! Is the killer manually controlling it? I wasn’t even moving that erratically. Outside, the remnants of the party hit me in a wave of heat and sounds. There are still revelers dancing here and there, and the universal smell of greasy food lingers over emptying stalls. There, to my right, the subway entrance. 

I feel the assassin behind and gaining fast. I cut his line of sight, then dive under the stall feeling like an idiot. The assassin stops and hides as well.

Ok. Ok, I’m alive. And he’s not moving either. Why? He could just search for me and… oh, ok he probably figured out I can track him from the way I move. He still has at least one drone. Alright. Options. I withdraw my focus from the assassin, instead casting it in a wide half-sphere around me. I need a distraction, and I find it: a pair of Law Templars.

I can always try. With a careful touch, I nudge one of the pair’s souls. Theirs are weird, as if encased in a cage that prevents an outside observer from identifying them. It’s like a soul uniform plus facemask. It also protects them from intrusion, which I suspected.

The pair rushes me with a haste that makes me feel I may have made a mistake. They really are more animated statues than bobbies. 

“Citizen, attempting to control an officer of the law is punishable by death.”

“I made no such attempt,” I immediately reply. “I nudged you because there is an armed and armored man three stalls back and I think he’s trying to kill me.”

Please don’t be an asshole please —

“You speak the truth,” the modulated voice says. 

Then they disappear at high speed. There is a woosh, one of the stalls goes flying and then I hear the distant sounds of explosions. Did they get him? Will they? Holy shit I can’t believe that worked. I still search for the drone around before really leaving my hiding spot, but it’s either flown somewhere else, or the operator’s busy. I use the lull to rush towards the subway entrance. It’s much easier to navigate now, and soon I’m past the gates.

I spot the drone following me just as the train leaves the platform. Damn. I really need to redo the clean escape every time if I don’t want to get brained again. Ok. Now, for the Church of Mercy. I’ll hide there then take the train at dawn tomorrow. 

Alright. Back to normal. No need to panic. I will be fine.

***

I can feel the three thugs approach from the side even though this time I spent an extra twenty fucking minutes circling the temple, going through side alleys filled with empty trash bins and the sulfury stench of old piss. There is no way. In hell. They should be able to track me down.

And yet. And yet, I feel the curious and greedy souls approaching my little corner  at good speed along the main road. They are quiet, for now.

It is dark here. The lights of the main road barely reach.

Fuck it. I pull the Defender and aim. I’m barely five meters away so it should be no problem since they’re definitely not as agile as flesh abominations. The first thug to come is the lanky one with pink eyes and blue hair. He searches for my presence in the dim light, but I ‘ve hidden near a wall. The Defender beeps. A whomp like a loud bass later and he is flung against the Neanderthal one. The leader is startled enough that he hesitates. I can feel his survival instincts warring with his arrogance. He is a rat, but he is also the head rat.

The Defender dings. It’s ready to fire again but I wait. The Neanderthal disentangles himself from blue hair, which is enough to force the head thug into action. Greed wins. I snap the gun up and fire. Another whomp and the head thug is sent flying, landing awkwardly against a dumpster. 

“Your turn, asshole,” I spit in English.

With the two others gone, Neanderthal grows wary. He deflates, and I feel his soul be seized by a sort of fatalism I didn’t expect from alley ambushers. I still back up a little until a quick ding confirms that the Defender is ready to fire again. 

“You can track those who go to the Temple,” I tell Neanderthal. “Don’t try and deny it. Tell me how you do it.”

He hesitates.

“I’m going to drag you and your sorry friends to Mercy’s Temple and check what Nya thinks about you ambushing asylum seekers. If you tell me what I want to know, I’ll only drag the two other idiots.”

No fear. My threat isn’t working.

“You’ve never been at the receiving end of Mercy’s attention, have you? She is only merciful to the deserving, and protective of them too,” I add, slowly slipping into Kei-Sah. The Patrician-favored higher language scares him more than the threat of a goddess. He raises his hands in surrender. I can feel the slow gears of his soul switch to calculation.

“Don’t. I know you’re thinking of a lie. Don’t waste my time. This is your last chance.”

And I’m serious. I can drag them one by one to Mercy’s churches if I have to. 

“Cameras,” he eventually mumbles.

“Excuse me?”

“Boss can see the cameras.”

“You guys set up cameras?” I ask, baffled. 

I mean, it makes perfect sense, but I just didn’t expect this level of sophistication from space chavs. Shows what I know. Maybe speaking the polite language has made me classist. Approaching the thug, I find a folded datasheet in the pocket of his dumpster chic vest. Huh. At first I can’t unlock it but there is a fingerprint option and the man lends me his thumb for the duration of the process. I can feel Neanderthal slowly stepping away while I open the most recent app. 

Wow.

“You can go,” I inform him, because I don’t want him around while I process my shock.

Piece of shit.

***

I think Adi the guard is surprised to see me approach Mercy’s temple with my bag and a bruise-free face. It takes a lot not to scream at him because anger burns in my chest like acid, but he doesn’t stop me, so I grab the handle and push with a heart full of rage.

And the door doesn’t open. 

I don’t remember there being a lock, or the gate refusing me. Is it time related? No, the Gates of Mercy are always open. I try again, but it doesn’t bulge.

“Looks like you’re not welcome here,” Adi says, a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Just you wait you bald fucker. Focusing, I send my soul perception forward. It is blocked by a presence. But… why? Is it because I’m angry? Whatever. Since I can’t get in, I guess I will use an alternate method.

Thank fuck for telepathy and the fact Nya’s office is near the entrance. I poke her. One second later and she’s put her cup of tea down. Another second later and the door opens.

“You are not welcome here,” she tells me.

“I only want justice,” I hiss. 

She blinks slowly as if had said something extremely stupid. 

“Then visit the Templars?”

“From your fucking temple. I was attacked by three locals just a few blocks away, and do you know what I found?”

“We’re not responsible for peace-keeping around here,” she interrupts.

“And helping gangers find desperate asylum seekers? Using your own camera system? Is that also not your fucking problem?”

It’s her turn to show shock, then suspicion. Adi stands at my back and I feel the terror in his soul like a sweet poison. 

“I was surprised and wondering how the fuck they managed to track me down when I made sure to take side alleys and avoid all of the major streets. Imagine my surprise when I found messages on their phones notifying them of my coming and giving them limited access to the cameras. Cameras that, by the way, you don’t seem inclined to use to protect the people around. But fucking them over is fine?”

“Give it to me.”

I hand her the phone. She handily navigates the menus, eyes widening. A wave of grief and horror washes over me, almost enough to smother my own rage. But not quite enough.

“How?”

I snatch the phone back from her hands.

“Let’s see how, shall we?”

A few presses of the keys and in the deafening silence that follows, Adi’s pockets vibrate. The man pales even more. I knew it was him, of course, but just seeing his arrogant face twist in guilt just pushes me over the fucking edge.

“You fucking asshole. You irredeemable, rotten piece of —”

“Adi…” Nya says, voice broken.

He speaks very quickly, so quickly I can barely understand.

“They don’t even need the money anymore. All of them are selfish. They never donate to the church because the only thing they think about is themselves and what they’ll do once they think they can leave. We’re struggling every day with filled rooms and it’s just the beginning of the year! I was just looking out for —”

“QUIET!”

Nya breathes slowly. For the first time since we met, her soul really unfolds and I can feel it in all its iron glory. The scarred woman is a furnace of ancient hatred dulled to embers through discipline and self-control. She is a sleeping volcano, and Adi just blew the lid. He has the audacity to turn his guilt to anger, and to aim it at me. 

“You, I should…”

She grits her teeth. Her control slams her soul shut, but I can still taste ash at the back of my tongue. 

“You are banished. Drop the stick.”

“Nya…”

“Now, Adi. Now, or I’ll…”

She swallows the rest of the sentence alongside a sob. Now burning grief pulses through the cracks of her armor. Shit, I was angry but the sheer pain she’s feeling is drowning everything else. Betrayal, that’s what she’s experiencing. Betrayal and bitter disappointment.

Adi releases the stick; though he still only has eyes for me.

“You fucking cripple. I’ll…”

“You,” Nya enunciates, “will do nothing at all.”

Her eyes flash with power while her green hair moves from an invisible wind.

“Clearly you have abused Mercy’s gifts, and betrayed her trust.”

“Nya, wait, I —”

I feel a massive presence suddenly paying attention to us. Even I wince when his soul is grabbed and pulled open. It feels like a celestial mother firmly taking something dangerous from the hands of a toddler: gentle yet uncompromising. Wisps of power bleed out.

His scream of agony is atrocious. 

Adi falls to his knees, bleeding from the eyes while Mercy wrings every ounce of power she granted him from his sorry frame. Adi’s spasming body falls to the side, eyes rolling back into his skull. Even unconscious, power bleeds from him with every heartbeat. He is broken.

Serves you right, you cunt. I wish I didn’t feel this satisfied, but I do. Someone who was tasked to look over the most vulnerable members of Enderlith, and he used it to target them instead, the worthless twat.As for Nya, she just looks… empty. I feel bad for her. The brief glance at her soul I saw tells me she’s someone who’s trying very hard. Now I really regret having been a dick to her in the past loop.

“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry,” I tell her.

She doesn’t reply for a while. When she does, her voice is low and steady.

“I will hand the trio to the sheriff. Adi will not wake up for a while; You should still leave.”

I frown.

“I can’t stay?”

“Why would you want to stay?” she asks in a matter-of-fact voice. “You know what? Ask her. Her attention is on us right now.”

Then she’s gone and the gates of the temple slam shut.

What did she mean by that?

I still approach the door knowing I’ll be refused. Call it curiosity. I place the palm of my hand against the cold wood. I push my soul outward.

“I can’t get in?”

Once again, a massive presence touches mine. I get impressions more than words. The first one is incomprehension. The explanation comes soon after.

You are playing the game. 

I don’t get it. I came here before.

Then you must not have been playing the game. You must have been lost and desperate. You are not lost and desperate. You are playing the game. The gate is shut to you. You do not need or want mercy. The gate is shut to you.

There is no anger or hatred here, just someone who is surprised that I don’t even understand the most basic rules of Mercy. And I didn’t, though now, I do. Sometimes during the last loop, something must have changed in the way I thought and now, I am not a desperate victim anymore. As she said, now I’m a player. A shit one, but a player nonetheless.

Dammit. Ok, ok. It’s midnight now, but still afternoon to my internal clock so I’m good to function for some time. I can just reach the train station now, unless the assassin already tracked me down thanks to my amazing fuck up. Normally it takes him a day or two… right? 

I carefully make my way back to the subway station entrance, sticking to the shadows and keeping a paranoid eye to the skies. Except it’s not being paranoid if you were killed before. I find the double gate deserted, the concrete ground stained and littered with wrappers clearly visible from the back alley where I hide. I extend my perception to the interior. It is, at that time of the night, entirely deserted. 

It’s that silence that saves me. Just before I decide to make a run for it, a distant and painfully familiar whirr forces me to look up. I barely see it moving around a corner: a drone flying away. The assassin’s drone.

Fuck me.

He’s already here. I swallow my saliva as the old fear rises from my empty stomach to grip me. He’s here and I’m going to get killed again if I mess it up. The drone has left. I can’t see the second one. Is it scouting, or readying an ambush? The gates remain tantalizingly close. 

The first time I escaped, the assassin showed some reluctance to have the drone enter the station to shoot me. Maybe killing me in transit is considered a faux-pas in his line of work? Fuck if I know, but I could assume that no one is waiting for me inside. He could have mined the entrance… but there is nothing I can do about it and at least it would be quick. Come to think of it, he always has one of the drones watch the exits. Hmmm. Curious, I extend my soul perception around me. Few people are here since the buildings close to the station are offices. Guy sleeping a few alleys away. There is a family above a nearby restaurant, maybe the owners. 

There is someone almost right above me. He’s awake. 

It’s him.

I recognize the cold focus of the assassin. Ok. Ok, he’s not moving yet, but he can see the entrance. I have no hope of getting through while he’s there. I don’t have the tools or allies to take him out. Except…

Moving away, I retrace my steps towards where I remember I last saw her. When I reach a familiar set of dumpsters, I stop. The night is not too hot but the smell is heavy. It feels like a poor place to ask for her presence. Sacrilegious, almost, but well. We talked before. I guess I can always try. I take a deep breath and regret it immediately. Fuck it.

“Kaysari?”

“I would kill you for your thoughtless audacity, you know?” she says.

I jump. She’s right here, as if she’d always been here. I’m losing years of life expectancy from the stress alone on this fucking station.

“And I would,” she continues, “were I not aware of how futile my attempt would be.”

She really is here. A crack snakes across the surface of her black body, the light patterns underneath dim and sick. She’s obviously not doing well.

“Ah,” I say, wondering how I could broach the subject.

“There is nothing you can do in this branch. You are far too weak.”

“So you know,” I say.

About the loop. Her expression remains impassive. Hard to read someone who’s apparently made of black crystal.

“Why did you call me?”

“I need help,” I say. “Perhaps a distraction?”

“Have you not heard what I said? There is nothing you can do for me.”

“But… you helped me in the past?” I hesitate.

She huffs. 

“Did I save you?”

“Yes!”

“Help freely given and you repay me by asking for more. Typical mortal mindset…”

“I need to make progress so I can save you in the future,” I argue, finding I mean it. “I can do little as I am.”

I think for a moment it gives her pause, but her voice tells me she was bringing herself under control.

“It does not matter to the current version of me, who will die very soon.”

“You’re dying?” I ask, feeling stupid as the words cross my lips. I just didn’t think it had gotten this bad.

She does not reply. I decide that I might as well try my luck again.

“We could make a deal? For help?”

“What is the point of making a deal when only you carry memories across the branches? When curses for oath breaking would not hold? What is the value of a pact only you remember, when keeping your word goes against your interests?”

Damn. Hmmm.

“An alliance, maybe?”

“INSECT.”

I recoil, soul pushed back as if by a slap. Ow. Kaisari takes a step back.

“Pah. My anger serves no purpose. You come to me begging for assistance when you are the avatar of one of the two dragons. You dare ask things of me. You are pathetic. Only a king will rise to the role of Archon, do you realize this? Not a schemer or a negotiator, though you must master those as well, but one who commands. You must possess decisiveness. Courage. Right now, you reek of frailty. It oozes from your mind like a stain. You are not a candidate. You are barely even an avatar.”

Rude.

“And before you mewl about the unfairness of it all while we lose everything with each reset,” she continues with barely contained fury, “I speak not of your strength. ‘Tis this I hold to account,” she says, pushing my forehead with a diamond index.

“Ow.”

“Act, would-be king. Fail. Die. Fall. It matters not. Act.”

Her presence fades. I cannot feel her soul.

“You will learn. Then perhaps, you will return worthy. A leader, a savior, not a beggar. But first, you will learn…”

And she’s gone. 

I sigh. Well, can’t get everything right every time. 

It stings that she’s probably right. I think I know what she means: I’m still treating this as if me dying were the end. It’s not. It hurts, but it’s not. The only way for me to make progress is to shed the fear I have and try. It’s a human and healthy reaction to be afraid of death, but… it’s not what I should do. I shouldn’t fear death or failure. In fact, they’re as much or even more valuable than success to me because of the qualia thing. No. I need to remember what I am. Not Steve the bloke who’ll get three years of physical therapy and never walk the same again if I fall on the curb the wrong way, but Steve the Avatar of Time. The Champion of Chronos.

Fucking Steve.

I sigh and try to breathe the stress away. Easier said than done, of course, but I’m a cello player. What bridges talent and success is effort. I try, and try, until it’s a part of me.

This is going to hurt, isn’t it?

Ok, ok. 

I can’t give up or rely on someone else every time. I need to do it myself. Can I wait? I would be out in the open when morning comes if the drones don’t find me first. I don’t think I can win a game of patience. Ok. I just need to slip through and that means the assassin can’t be there. I can’t think of a way to kill him with just the Defender so I need to draw him out, and I can do that. Yeah. I can do that. I’ll just use bait. Retracing my steps, I find a small dumpster in a side alley as far as I can get from the assassin without losing my perception. By now my soul expands in a tunnel with him at the other side. My head starts to hurt. I need to hurry.

With a grunt of effort, I lift the side, wincing when my bare fingers touch the disgusting undercarriage of the stinky piece of metal. It slips, banging against my ankle because fuck that thing is heavy but I get what I want. In a cataclysmic crash, the metal bangs against the concrete. The sound is deafening. A distant animal barks.

I’m already sprinting into another side alley. The assassin has twitched but he hasn’t moved yet which is fine, just fine. A few lights come up on the nearby building’s upper floor. Sorry about that, mates. In the distance, someone curses. 

The drone is here. It’s alone. I actually don’t know how many drones the assassin has, but I don’t have the luxury of waiting. The Defender beeps, causing it to turn.

I shoot. The drone falls with a loud clang and in the same instant, the assassin bursts into motion. I race to a side alley, narrowly avoiding a discarded can. If I make a noise here I’m dead. Fortunately my nice expensive shoes have soft soles. Turning to the side, I head towards the train station. I can’t feel the assassin. He may have assumed that I didn’t know he was here, so I must have raced away from the station. That’s what someone without second soul awakening would have done anyway. There, I see the gate of the station in all its disgusting glory. I slow down, relieved and a little out of breath. It’s been a long afternoon for my internal clock and — I spot it.

It’s there, to the side of the entrance and clearly visible by a ball of greasy wrappers. He made no effort to hide it. I may have missed it if I hadn't come this way several times and if it didn’t look so much like a claymore mine from the movies. 

A mine. He mined the entrance just as he’d trapped the elevator exit of the first floor. It’s linked to some sort of black box, probably a way to identify me so he doesn’t pulp random strangers. The floor drops from under me and I sway from the sheer panic. I don’t know how to disarm this stuff. I wouldn’t even dare touch it. Is this it? I’m trapped? I’m trapped! The tide of terror surges through my chest. The assassin’s going to head back this way for sure. What do I do? What do I do? Fuck. Wait, maybe I can protect myself with some of the gear they keep in the maintenance tunnel for —

Oh.

Oh, of course. Jesus. I’m stupid.

I’m fucking stupid. This is the same Enderlith I was in at the end of last loop, surviving by the skin of my teeth. Calm returns from one moment to the next and I feel like I can think again. Like something let my brain go. I panicked. I panicked and almost got myself killed. Ok, calm down.

Kaysari was right. I need to stop acting like a headless chicken. This is my station now. There is not just a single exit to the district, obviously.

First, I race back to where the thugs were, finding them stirring on the ground. The blue-haired one also has a phone which I unlock with his fingerprint. It takes me one minute to find a map, then another ten to securely log into the limousine service I used last time. I move to the maintenance access I knew was there because most low-income living districts are designed the same way. A universal maintenance access code I learned fighting the abominations gets me through and into a nearby tunnel, then the limousine picks me up on a maintenance platform. The potato-like flesh golem turns to me despite its obvious lack of neck.

“Please confirm your destination.”

“The Spires regional train station, please.”

“Due to maintenance in progress, the journey will take around half an hour.”

“It’s ok,” I reply, “I got time.”