42. Havoc
HAVOC
That just goes to show how much of an idiot I was for interfering last night.
I should have just let the orc take her.
It’s not my business when a player drinks more than they can handle and finds themselves in deep shit.
When the bug had appeared on my shoulder, demanding I help her in slurred speech as she was being carried away, I’d hesitated.
I never help. I never get involved. But there I was, stepping in front of the orc from The Ripsnarl pack.
Now I’ll have to deal with that fallout.
Word’ll get around. I’ll probably have to fend off a few of their people before they’re reminded not to fuck with me.
All because I couldn’t keep my nose to myself.
But it wasn’t just because of the bug. There was something about the woman.
Something I can’t put my finger on. I wanted to stay out of it.
I’m certainly not going to help her now.
Bone Breakers aren’t worth the trouble of the sewers and if she wants to die trying to save one, that’s on her.
I’ve watched so many players die, it doesn’t bother me.
But . . . there’s a light about her.
I sigh and sit back at the table, staring at the newspaper in front of me, her face front and center.
The headline reads, “Luxe Has a New Favorite Player,” and the article talks about some of her highlights.
She hadn’t even registered the photo, or that she was the subject of the paper. She hadn’t asked. She hadn’t looked.
Fuck, why am I considering going after her? I haven’t survived this long by chasing idiots into the sewers, that’s for sure.
I clench my fist. “Fuck,” I say out loud, the silence closing in on me.
It isn’t until that silence is interrupted that I truly realize just how silent it had been.
“Hello, Havoc.”
I freeze at the sound of the familiar voice, my fingers digging into my thigh.
“What do you want?” I finally grunt, staring at the wooden table.
Cipher hasn’t talked to me in years. Oh, he had at the beginning, incessantly talking until it drove me mad. But we’d had a falling out, and he’d gone silent. My head has been silent ever since.
And lonely. But that’s none of his business.
“Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” Cipher goads, just as much of an asshole as I remember.
“I wouldn’t consider you a friend,” I growl. “Get out of my head.”
Cipher chuckles. “It’s funny you think I can do that.”
I pause, not wanting to ask the question, not wanting to know if he’s been there the whole time even in the silence. Even when I’d asked for him. Begged for a single word to break up the loneliness. Fuck him. Fuck this place. And fuck the entire world I’ve been forced to survive in.
“She needs your help,” Cipher says when I don’t say anything.
I clench my jaw. “What do you mean?”
“Do not play stupid now,” Cipher growls. “We both know who I am talking about.”
“The woman?”
“Vesper,” Cipher corrects, surprising me. “It is important that she survives.”
“Why?” I ask, swallowing thickly. The system is mostly hands off, but he picks and chooses his favorites. Clearly, this woman, Vesper, is his newest one. But I don’t understand why. What is it about her?
“That I cannot tell you,” Cipher replies, remaining cryptic despite asking for something so dangerous, it could get me killed.
I don’t leave New Babel anymore. I made my home and I’ll stay here until my life is done.
Whenever that may be. I’d just prefer it later than sooner. I’d made a promise . . .
“What’s in it for me?” I ask. “If I help her get the Bone Breaker back.”
Cipher chuckles. “Ever the opportunist I see. Very well.” He pauses. “Perhaps, we can discuss your little problem if you help keep her alive.”
I shake my head. “She ain’t gonna survive. She’s currently on her way to rescue a fucking Bone Breaker from the sewer rats. We both know how fucking stupid that is. She’s clearly lacking all her brain cells. Why save her?”
“I cannot explain in a way that you will understand,” Cipher answers. “But I cannot change empathy. Only direct it, and she is a . . . stubborn human.”
“Why direct her at all?” I ask, standing. “This is very out of character for you.”
Cipher chuckles. “I once did it for you. I assume it has not been so long that you have forgotten?”
“Look where that got us,” I point out, shaking my head. But I grab my sword and slide it home.
“Indeed.”
I sigh. “I don’t care about the problem anymore,” I admit. It’s been so long now without it, I don’t even remember what it feels like to be whole. “Just make sure I can continue to live here without interference.”
“You will care,” Cipher laughs, his tone mocking. “Once you get to know her.”
I roll my eyes. “Just tell me which direction she went,” I growl. “The faster I get her out of this mess, the faster I can go back to my life.”
Cipher’s chuckle is my only answer, and somehow, that feels more foreboding than looking at a trip down into the Kingdom of Rats and Roaches.