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'It'll be a deep cover operation,' Ez went on. 'And even though you'll be on your own, you also won't be the only one out there.'

Hmm. 'Got a code phrase for me, at least?'

'Yes: "There's no use denying it. I can tell we're kindred spirits."'

'...Bit on the nose, don't you think?'

'Only if you start throwing it around like candy. Use good judgment.'

Yeah, yeah. What a pain. He didn't join Abolish in order to 'use good judgment.' But more and more, that seemed to be his role now. All the fun stuff went to the people with power like Karkash--or the moron who couldn't tell a fun mission from a suicidal one.

Eh, maybe he just needed to accept his lot in life. Stealth and deception could certainly be fun, too. There was nothing quite like lying to someone's face.

But still. The best part of killing was when the victim got to see it coming. Wasn't nearly as satisfying if he couldn't revel in it, at least a little.

They arrived at the parking lot, and apparently, Desmond had his pick of the vehicles. Ezmortig left him alone again while he decided, so he took his time with it, formulating entire identities in his mind to accompany each one. Cars told a story, after all. Overlooking them as mere tools would be missing a trick, he'd always felt.

Before he even made up his mind, however, Ezmortig returned with someone else in tow. A squirrelly-looking woman with a briefcase in one hand. Quite cute, too, in a strange sort of way. Not necessarily to his own tastes, but--

Oh shit, wait, wasn't that Jercash's personal secretary? Zenia?

Desmond corrected his posture as she approached. Now that he was getting a closer look, he wasn't deceived by the frazzled hair and modest stature. Those blue eyes of hers looked like they could cut through glass.

"Desmond Grantier?" she said in airy voice.

"That's me," he said. He'd seen other people saluting on occasion, but nah. That would be a bridge too far.

"Take these with you." She laid the briefcase on the hood of the convertible next to her, then unlocked it and opened it for him to see.

He scratched his chin with his thumb as he eyed its contents. A few different trinkets. A watch. A pair of glasses. And what was that? A metal orb?

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'A large offensive is soon to begin,' said Ezmortig. 'So while the heavy hitters are all busy beating each others' brains in, you are going to sneak in and plant some seeds.'

'Seeds, huh? So we're playing a long game?'

'Aren't we always?'

'Wasn't the feeling I got with this incursion. Everyone keeps talking about how it'll be over soon, after one last push. Then we can all go home and lick our wounds.' Naturally, that didn't include the idiots who seemed to genuinely believe that they were about to conquer the entirety of Intar. The opinions of those morons didn't even deserve consideration, Desmond felt.

'Indeed,' said Ezmortig. 'Which is why this mission is important. We are unlikely to get another chance to plant seeds like this. Not for decades. Maybe even centuries.'

Desmond resisted the urge to sigh again. He could see their presumed destination in the distance now, slightly concealed behind a line of tents. They were heading to the parking lot, where all manner of vehicles were waiting, military and civilian models alike.

'So let me get this straight: I'm supposed to sneak into an active war zone where some of the most powerful servants in the world will be duking it out... and accomplish what, exactly? Chatting up a few politicians? Convincing them that, actually, Abolish is just a bunch of chill guys who deserve their support?'

The reaper chortled silently. 'Yes. More or less.'

'Sweet. No problem. That plan's not stupid at all.'

'You've done it before. Multiple times, in fact.'

'No, I haven't. These circumstances are way different.'

'Relax, Desmond. Just planting seeds, remember? You don't need to achieve all of that in a single conversation.'

Oh, boy. He wanted to protest further, but what was the point?

The truth was, he already knew how to proceed. What kind of tactics might work. Politicians were a specialty of his, at this point.

He just really didn't want to go. 'Will I be working alone, at least?'

'Yes. I assume you do not want a team.'

Hell no, he didn't. They always fucked everything up when it came to undercover operations like this. 'Am I allowed to do anything besides planting these seeds?'

'Such as?'

'Mm. Y'know. Maybe just a little assassinating.'

'I'll leave that to your discretion. But not your indulgence. Use your head. I know you can think, Desmond, much as you try to convince people you can't.'

Bah. Indulgence was so much more fun, though.

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No, he was stronger than before. Much stronger. In fact, thanks to him, Desmond had barely needed to get his hands dirty, as of late. Which was a novelty. He'd gotten so used to being in constant pain, thanks to the lingering effects of his transfiguration ability, but these days, he almost felt like a normal human being again.

Still, it did beg the question. Just how many times had that guy achieved emergence over this last year?

And was there even more to it than that? His whole vibe felt different, too. Perhaps Karkash was using his electromagnetic ability in order to mess with the air around him. Like a subtle, tingling cage or something.

Why would he do that, though? Just to fuck with Desmond?

...Possibly.

'Get up,' came Ezmortig's soundless voice.

Desmond had been reclining on a wooden stump at the edge of the encampment. All the noise from those weird squid things had gotten pretty annoying, so he'd started maintaining his distance. Plus, it was more difficult for the cultists to find him out here.

He did not immediately do as the reaper requested and instead merely scratched his cheek as he eyed the ethereal white mask that covered Ezmortig's face. 'Got some real work for me?'

'Killing, you mean? That's not your job, anymore. Best get over it.'

Desmond sighed but stood up.

The reaper began floating away.

Desmond followed. 'So what IS my job, then?'

'Outreach.'

He made a face but said nothing.

'You're a charmer when you want to be,' said Ezmortig. 'That is something Karkash will never have over you.'

At that, Desmond's frown actually did turn upside down, just a bit. Compliments from reapers were rare. So rare, in fact, that he knew pointing it out would probably motivate the reaper to either take it back or otherwise explain how it was actually nothing of the sort.

Instead, he tried to focus on the task. 'And who is it that needs charming?'

'Some politicians in Andeyal.'

He stopped walking and groaned. He didn't even bother keeping his next words private. "Are you kidding me? I thought we already agreed that infiltration is a shit detail, right now. The Vanguard's on high alert. Jackson's in the city. I go there, I'm toast."

The reaper turned and waited for him. 'I haven't forgotten. Conceal your voice.'

Desmond eyed the nearest servant a few meters away, then did as requested. 'So what's changed, then?'