Chapter 8

Pyrrha, Harry, Murphy, and Thomas quickly left the scene of the attack before anyone could investigate, lugging Torchwick between them. The explosions and gunfire were going to quickly draw attention from cops and pedestrians alike, and no one wanted to get caught up in that. They quickly crossed the street and returned to Thomas's apartment.

"Alright, Murphy, grab a chair," Harry ordered. She did, and they set Torchwicks unconscious body down in it.

Murphy pulled a pair of thin metal rings from her pocket and Pyrrha blinked, "What are those?"

"What, you don't have handcuffs in your world?"

Pyrrha stared at the rings. They were about an inch thick with a metal chain connecting them together. They were hardly what she might call durable.

"You're kidding. That's what you use as restraint?" Pyrrha wasn't being rude, she was legitimately surprised. Most criminals in Remnant had some level of Aura control to them, enhancing their strength far past what a normal human could manage. Those handcuffs definitely couldn't hold Torchwick.

"Standard issue."

Pyrrha shook her head, "He'll break those the moment he wakes up. Do you have anything stronger, like a thick rope or metal chains?"

Murphy raised an inquisitive brow and looked at Harry. The wizard shrugged, "Don't look at me, she's the expert."

"…Right," Murphy sighed. "Thomas, got any ropes or chains?"

Thomas smirked, "That depends on the situation."

"Thomas," Murphy warned, though there was humor in her voice.

He laughed and walked out of the room, "Yeah, I've got something we can use, give me a minute."

Pyrrha watched Thomas as he left. While the man certainly wasn't putting off his irresistible lure, Pyrrha would not deny that he was any less attractive. Yes, Pyrrha very much had her heart set on one person, but she was in love, not dead. Once Thomas did vanish though, she reeled in her senses and analyzed his apartment.

It was an Art Deco style apartment, with walls of deep red and charcoal grey carpet. It opened into a living room where a small round table of matching color was set up, and broke off into two rooms. One was the kitchen, which was all black and stainless steel with white walls, while the other was a large entertainment center with matching sofas and chairs. A colossal flat screen television hung from the wall, flanked on either side by stacks of DVD's, CD's, and that worlds equivalent of game consoles. The apartment had a very clean and sterile look to it, almost unlived in.

At first glance, it looked like Pyrrha had walked into a magazine cover, not someone's home. But a closer look showed a subtle amount of love and care had gone into this home. There were neatly arranged throw pillows on the couches, and hanging from the walls in neat linearity so as to enhance instead of clash with the Art Deco style, were pictures and photographs.

Pyrrha glanced at them and saw pictures of Thomas and a woman, average height, in her early thirties with bleach white hair and near flawless skin. Together in that picture, the two looked happy, at peace. They looked in love.

An ache in her chest made Pyrrha look away from the photo, and fall into the nearest seat she could find, by the living room table. She set the ruined remains of the backpack on the table, and carefully set Miló and Akoúo̱ onto it. She kept her focus on Miló by inspecting it for chips and dents.

Very quickly she became aware of the others staring at her. With a sigh, Pyrrha set Miló down and said, "I'm sorry, but its impolite to stare. Is something wrong?"

"Well, maybe," Harry said.

Pyrrha glanced up at the tall man, brow raised. Harry pointed at Miló, "Were you going to explain where you got ahold of your Spartan starter kit?"

"…My what?"

"Your weapons," Murphy clarified, "Where did you get them from? You didn't have them earlier, unless you can turn things invisible."

"Oh," Pyrrha said, and shook her head, "I can't, though there are others-"

"Pyrrha," Harry interrupted. "question first, exposition later."

She blushed, "Right. Sorry."

After carefully setting Miló down on the polished wood, she looked up at Harry and Murphy, and explained what happened. She explained the chase through the alleyway, her losing Torchwick, and running across the old lady. She told them how she got past said old lady, and that the woman had shoved the bag into her hands. Pyrrha explained all of this, and with every word, she noted Harry grew a little paler.

When she finished, Harry found the nearest chair and slumped in it. He covered his face and sighed, "Hells Bells."

"What?" Pyrrha was confused. Sure, the situation was strange, but it surely couldn't be that bad, could it?

Well, she had been wrong before.

Harry removed his hand from his face, "Pyrrha, I should have told you this sooner, but when dealing with the supernatural, you never, ever, give them your full name."

Pyrrha cocked her head to one side, "Why? It's just a name."

"To us mortals, yes." Harry agreed, "But in the world of the supernatural, names have power. If someone knows your Name, your True Name, they can create a link between themselves and you. If they say it, and mean it, they can do things to you. What they do depends on the creature, but if it is a powerful supernatural entity, then they only need a part of your name to manipulate you."

He glanced at Miló and Akoúo̱ on the table, "And whoever gave you your weapons, has the power to reach between worlds at will, and has an acute interest in you."

A chill ran down Pyrrha's back, a touch of ice. She swallowed slowly and tried not to react, but now that Harry told her that, she was almost certain that the air around her was getting colder. But that was ridiculous, she was just paranoid from what he told her.

Pyrrha shook her head and ignored the feeling, "Be that as it may, is there any immediate way to handle the problem?"

"No," Harry said. "In the long term, your Name could change over time. Mortals aren't exactly consistent. Whoever has taken interest in you though might have plans. You'll need to step carefully now Pyrrha, and if you feel anything weird, something that is absolutely wrong tell me. Immediately. We can't take any risks with something like this. Understood?"

"Yes," Pyrrha nodded and squared her shoulders. That she could understand, go to an expert for assistance, trust Harry. He was a good man, and if things got dicey, Pyrrha trusted him to know what to do.

That seemed to put Harry a little at ease. He slumped in his chair and smiled, "Good. Now where's Thomas?"

"Man, I've been here for five minutes. Torchwicks tied up and ready to go."

Everyone looked back at Thomas in surprise, and saw he spoke the truth. He was standing by Torchwick, casually leaning against the wall. Torchwick himself was tied to the chair with several rows of thick steel chains, and a patch of duct tape had been slapped over his mouth. He was awake now, and wasted no time in glaring at everyone with contempt.

"Huh," Harry said. "Well alright then. Let's see what Torchwick knows then."

Thomas smirked and ripped the duct tape off with an unnecessary amount of force. Roman sputtered, spat, and glared at Thomas, "I do believe you're starting to get on my nerves, vampire."

"He's not the one you need to worry about," Harry said.

He spun his chair around to face Roman, and casually tapped his staff against the carpeted floor. Roman snorted, "I know who you are, Dresden, and you don't scare me. I've seen things that would make most men scream for their mommy's."

"I could leave you alone with Murphy for five minutes," Harry said, "Then we'll see how loud you can scream."

"Oooh, scary." Roman said. "What's next, you start playing good cop bad cop with your little murderer at the table?"

Pyrrha looked up in surprise, "What?"

Roman grinned, "Oh that's right, you don't remember what happened, do you?"

"That's enough," Harry said, "You're trying to change the focus here, but you seem to be forgetting that you're not in any position to do that."

"I wouldn't say that," Roman replied. "After all, you obviously need information from me, and you don't have anyone else who could provide it for you. The merry miss murderess over there can't remember anything, so I'm your only leave Dresden. And frankly, I'm not seeing a reason to be particularly agreeable at the moment."

Harry stared at Roman for a moment, not saying a word. Roman kept wearing that smug grin of his. He never saw Harry move. Neither did Pyrrha.

There was a flash of grey, the sound of wood smashing against the wall, and Romans grin was gone. His chair had been slammed against the nearest wall, and Harry was standing over him, pressing one leg against his chest hard enough that the chair creaked under the pressure. The runes on his staff were glowing red hot and the air was frigid.

Pyrrha's jaw dropped open in surprise. She had no idea Harry could move that fast. Murphy and Thomas looked wary of the sudden movement, but the speed obviously hadn't surprised them.

Harry leaned forward until his face was a foot away from Romans, "You want to play loophole then? Fine. If you don't want to willingly give us what you know, then that means your useless to us. But we can't let you go either. You obviously know more than your letting on, so tell me, Roman Torchwick, do you know exactly who I am?"

Harry released some of the pressure on Romans chest. He gasped and said, "Harry Dresden. Private Investigator, Wizard of the White Council, and the Winter Knight."

"Bingo," Harry snapped his fingers, "But did you also know I'm a Warden of the White Council? That means I enforce the Seven Laws of Magic. And unlike mortal laws, there's no prison sentence for breaking them."

Roman scoffed, "P-Please, I'm not stupid, and I'm not a wizard. I've broken no Law of Magic."

Harry reached into his coat and pulled out the vial of Dust. He set it on the living room table and said, "Seventh Law of Magic, Thou Shalt Not Open the Outer Gates. As an inhabitant of an alternate dimension, you are by your nature, an Outsider. And you have been selling material from your world in mine. I have evidence from Lara Raith to back up my claim. As a violator of the Law, it is within my duty as a Warden to execute you on the spot if I deem it necessary."

Every word Harry spoke was glacial. Slow, meticulous, and rumbling with a grand power that shook Pyrrha to her very bones. She, and everyone else in the room, made extra room between themselves and Harry. The effect on Roman was obvious.

He gulped and said, through chattering teeth, "I-I'm no Outsider tho-though. Out-Outsiders inhabit the Sp-Space between spaces. I'm simply fro-from another world. N-not the same thing."

Some of his confidence returned and he smirked, "And besides, that still would leave you at square one, wouldn't it?"

Harry kicked Romans chair back into place, and rose to his full height. At nearly seven feet tall, it was certainly impressive to see. He was a towering giant, and he knew it.

Without moving, he spoke again, in that same glacial tone, "True enough. But, as the Winter Knight, I have access to other resources that will make you talk. And if you know what the Winter Knight is, then you must be familiar with the Winter Court. So tell me, Torchwick, do you think Mab will be as understanding as I am when I tell her you are possibly responsible for the Grimm incursions?"

Romans eyebrows shot up, "Wait, what? The Grimm are here!?"

Harry paused. Pyrrha looked between him and Roman, and spoke up, "Yes. There've been attacks going on for the past month. We assumed you were involved, considering the coincidence of your arrival and your past operations."

Roman looked past Harry at Pyrrha, and scowled, "For the record, Ponytail, I've cut ties with my old employer. Being eaten alive is not exactly good for business. Frankly, I have no idea how I survived or wound up on this little mudball, but I thought I was free of the Grimm for good."

"Well you're not." Harry said, finding his voice again. "Grimm are attacking again, and you were the only lead we have right now. Still feel like being quiet?"

Roman ignored Harry. There was a look in his eyes, not one of fear or terror, but one frustration. He stared at the floor and quietly spoke, "I was trying to build something new here. A new empire, a new life. No more Grimm, no more mysterious multi-stage plans. It was gonna be like the good old days again."

He looked up and glared at Pyrrha, "But no. People like you just drag trouble everywhere you go, don't you?"

"I had nothing to do with this," Pyrrha said. "You and I are both victims Torchwick."

"Right!" Roman laughed, "Victims. Honey, I chose my side, but you, you were the keystone to the entire operation. Everything that happened during the Vytal Festival hinged on you. And you played into their hands perfectly."

Pyrrha felt her throat grow dry, and a dull throb started hammering at the base of her skull. Harry took one look at her and said, "Pyrrha, don't listen to him. Whatever he's saying, it's not relevant to the events at hand."

"Oh of course its relevant!" Roman yelled, "Its completely relevant, don't you understand!? It's all a multi-stage plot, a scheme, a plan, a strategy that she came up with. Not Ponytail there, but the real villainess behind this mess. She's the Queen of the board and she's twisted all of us into her pawns. Now we're just in stage two I guess, and we can all thanks little miss sunshine over there."

He glared at Pyrrha with so much hatred and vitriol that she had to look away. Her hands balled into fists and she said, "That's enough, Roman."

"No, no, I'm not done!" the criminal cackled, "All of this, the Grimm, the attacks, even me being here, is all thanks to you. You're a god damn puppet Pyrrha Nikos, and a murderer. I saw what happened during the Vyral Festival, the whole world saw!"

The throbbing grew stronger.

"Shut up."

"You act like the pillar of control and order, but you're just like the rest of us puny mortals. You're a cheating, dirty, murdering little bitch. And because of you, Vale is overrun with Grimm, and the world as you knew it is gone."

"I said shut up!" Pyrrha screamed.

Her chair crashed against the floor, and without thinking, she sent Akoúo̱ spinning through the air at Romans face. There was a sharp crack, and Pyrrha froze in horror.

Roman had tilted his head out of the way at the last second. The bronze steel of Akoúo̱ was buried half a foot into Thomas's wall. If it had been an inch to the left, it would've taken the man's head off.

Pyrrha started to tremble, and couldn't breathe. She couldn't look at the others, couldn't bear to see their faces. Tears trailed down her face in tiny rivers, but she did nothing else. No one said anything, they only stared at the shield in the wall.

Finally, someone spoke up.

"Pyrrha-"

And that was all it took. She was gone from the apartment and racing for the elevator. Just five minutes. She needed five minutes to...

To do something. What, she had no idea, but she couldn't stay with the others in her current state, she was too volatile.

Pyrrha only got as far as the elevators. She hammered the down button and rested her head against wall for a moment, taking deep breaths. That helped a little, and she felt the trembling cease moments later. Yet despite that, Pyrrha felt angry at herself for again losing control of her emotions like that. Why was she so brittle right now?

"He's a real prick, ain't he?"

Pyrrha jumped, and looked down. Murphy was leaning against the wall next to her. The short blonde smiled a little, but didn't say anything else. Pyrrha sighed and hung her head. "Miss Murphy, I just need some time to myself right now."

"Kid, I've been down this road. You don't want to take it alone." Said Murphy.

Pyrrha looked away and crossed her arms, "It's not something I want to talk about anymore. Talking hasn't really fixed anything."

"I'd disagree. You're definitely not the unstable wreck you were when Harry first brought you home."

Pyrrha glanced down at Murphy. She smiled in response and continued, "Naked, injured, and babbling to yourself, you were in a pretty bad place. You're a long way from home and don't know how you got here, it's understandable if you're stressed."

"Maybe," Pyrrha frowned, "But I'm not allowed to let myself go like that. You might not have known who I was, no one does, but that's not an excuse for me to fall apart like that."

Murphy nodded, "True, no one's arguing that. But it's also not an excuse to run off when you do fall apart. If you want people to respect you, then trying to maintain the untouchable pedestal isn't going to work for you. You'll snap under the pressure eventually."

Pyrrha stared at the ground. She processed what Murphy said, silently turning it around in her mind. What Murphy said had some precedent to it, Pyrrha couldn't deny that. But it was easier said than done.

"I've spent most of my life propped up on that pedestal," Pyrrha explained. Her voice was quiet. Murphy listened but said nothing.

"Learning to let go, to talk with others isn't… something I can just do. People wouldn't even give me that chance back home, not until I moved to Beacon. But I was part of a team, and I couldn't let them down."

Murphy interjected, "Working as a team requires cooperation from all members Pyrrha. You can't hold up a bridge with one support. The same goes for you right now. You should be feeling scared, you should be feeling sad. In fact, I know you feel that."

She reached out and gently squeezed Pyrrha's hand, "We all feel things like that. It's not weakness, it's not something to be ashamed of. It's what makes us human. So if something's bothering you Pyrrha, talk to me. Talk to Harry if you have to. Don't bottle it up, that will just make things worse."

A smile touched Pyrrha's lips. The comfort and warmth of Murphy's hand said far more than her words. The simple act of physical contact was something intimate between humans. It was a comforting presence, a sign of trust and care between two people. Pyrrha did not know the feeling well, but it was appreciated all the same.

She took a breath and sighed, a calm relaxed sigh. The ever present pounding at the back of her skull finally receded, and once more, Pyrrha felt at peace again.

"Thank you, Murphy."

Another squeeze, "Anytime kid."

Perhaps her situation wasn't great, it was definitely far from perfect, but she had been lucky in one regard. Pyrrha had new friends to help her, and for that, she would be eternally grateful.

There moment of peace didn't last long though. Thomas came down the hall minutes later, and gave Murphy a look. The woman nodded at him, and Thomas seemed to calm down a bit. Pyrrha ducked her head again.

"Harry done interrogating him?" Murphy asked.

"Yeah. We've got an address, we were going to check it out."

Pyrrha let go of Murphy's hand, and said, "Good, then let's go."

Thomas glanced at her nervously. Pyrrha crossed her arms, "I'm not unstable. There's just been a… lot of stress, Thomas. I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat me otherwise."

"Right, but the thing is, Harry and I are-"

"Oh for god sake," Murphy sighed, "Pyrrha is more than capable of taking care of herself. She is the reason we captured Torchwick in the first place, remember?"

Thomas raised his hands defensively, "Okay, okay. Don't bite my head off."

"Don't tempt me," Murphy shot back.

The three of them returned to Thomas's room. Pyrrha shivered and took a quick glance around. The corners of the apartment had grown thick with a network of icy patterns that spread an inch or two from each corner. The air had to have dropped to the low thirties at least. Harry was standing by Torchwick and looked perfectly comfortable.

Roman, on the other hand, was shivering and looked several shades paler than usual. Pyrrha found it hard to feel sympathy for him though, and ignored him. She walked over to where she had left her shield impaled in the wall, and pulled it out with one swift tug, then slid it back over her shoulders.

She picked up Miló from the table and hid it behind the shield. Then she turned to Harry and asked, "We have the address, yes?"

He nodded.

Pyrrha looked over at Torchwick, "Are we bringing him with us?"

"Yep."

She swiped the roll of duct tape off the table and grinned, "Do we need him to give us directions?"

"Not at all."

Pyrrha couldn't help but grin, while Torchwick tried and failed to scoot away from her.

"Perfect."


They left Thomas's apartment as the police was establishing a crime scene where their earlier skirmish had taken place. Pyrrha made a mental note to try and be more careful in the future. Getting the attention of the police wouldn't do her any favors, since she didn't technically exist in their world. Trying to explain that to them would just waste more time.

The location Torchwick gave them was one of the smaller ports along Lake Michigan, and the drive there was relatively peaceful. The rain began to lighten during the drive, and a few rays of sunlight peaked through clouds.

In the back of the Hummer, Roman was tightly secured by his chains, and a fresh patch of duct tape had been applied. Murphy and Pyrrha rode in the back, while Thomas and Harry bickered up front again.

They reached the port right as the two were in the midst of a heated argument that Pyrrha really didn't understand.

"No, you're wrong Thomas. With enough prep-time, Batman could kick Supermans ass, easy. I should know, it makes all the difference in the world."

Thomas opened his door and snorted, "Yeah, but Superman has an entire arsenal of alien tech. If Batman is allowed to prepare for the fight, then so is Superman."

"Bah," was Harry's response.

Murphy pinched her nose and tried not to laugh, "Are you two done?"

They exchanged a look, and both 'hmphed' in response. Murphy did laugh at that, "Right."

Everyone exited the Hummer and headed to the trunk. Harry opened it and casually pulled Torchwick out with one hand. Once the man was on his feet, Harry very gently patted his shoulder.

"So, Roman, we're going to remove the duct tape now. And you're going to tell us where you've been getting your Dust from. You're not going to double cross us, or else things will get messy. Understood?"

Roman stared at Harry, his eyes blank. Harry tightened his grip, and Roman nodded once. Harry smiled, "Great!" and tore the duct tape from Roman's mouth.

Surprisingly, Roman made no comment on the action. Pyrrha immediately readied her weapons in response. To her amusement, Murphy loosened her holster at the same time. As the always said, birds of a feather…

"So, where are we going?" Harry asked.

Roman turned to the docks and jerked his head eastward. The entire dock was of the industrial variety. Vale had one, and the similarities were uncanny. Large crates, bigger than a bus were stacked in neat symmetrical rows. Several smaller warehouses were spaced along the eastern side of the dock, and several freighters were currently in port. Pyrrha could see the towering dock cranes moving cargo to and from them in a semi-organized fashion.

Oh, and the entire facility was protected by a chain link fence.

They had parked away from the main entrance for obvious reasons. Harry nodded at Pyrrha, and she walked up to the fence. She lifted her right hand and focused on the fence, reaching out with her Semblance. Her senses embraced the steel wiring, and with delicate ease, she pushed it aside with the amount of effort one might push away grass.

Once the metal had creaked into place, Pyrrha smiled back at the group. Harry whistled, "Very impressive. Can you put it back after we pass through?"

"Easily."

He nodded, "Good."

They passed through, Pyrrha doing just that, and pushed Roman to the front. He grumbled and whined, but remained relatively silent the entire walk. They passed several warehouses, careful to avoid the guards and workers. It must have been a slow day, because they didn't come across any, and made it to the final warehouse without any trouble.

"This is it," Roman said, "My Dust supplier is in there."

"You have space in there?" Murphy asked.

Roman scoffed, "No, I own the warehouse. I've been a very busy man these past few months, money is hardly the obstacle it was when I first arrived."

"Right," Harry said, walking up to the building. It had large steel doors, big enough for heavy equipment to pass in and out through. The walls were concrete and stained from the recent rain, and there was a smaller door built into the left side of the facility.

Harry casually walked up to the door, and tapped it with the tip of his staff, whispering, 'Forzare.'

Unseen force popped the doors lock, and it swung open. They entered, and found that the warehouse was filled with steel containers. There was even a few heavy machines for lifting purposes, parked near the entrance.

"How much money have you made off this Dust stuff?" Thomas wondered aloud.

Roman sighed, "Most of my cash isn't from Dust. That's a recent business venture. I won't bore you with the details, but a man of my skills has very little trouble procuring funds during an emergency situation."

"So you stole the money you needed," Murphy summed up.

"If you wanted to argue semantics, then yes. I stole it. Personally, I prefer the term 'appropriated'. Less negative context."

Harry grunted, "Noted. Now, move."

Roman growled at him, "Yes, thank you, I know. I am moving."

He took three steps forward, and promptly fell flat on his face. Harry facepalmed and Murphy let out a sigh. Pyrrha shook her head and walked over to help him back up. With his arms chained, he'd never get up on his own.

She grabbed him by the arm and heaved him to his feet.

Which was when Roman snapped the black rune, that she had mistaken for cufflinks, in her face. Her vision exploded in light, and Pyrrha screamed in surprise.

"Hey!" Harry charged forward.

Roman casually jumped over the wizard, and slammed into Murphy. The tiny woman hit the ground with a surprised off, and Roman ran for the exit. He flexed his arms as he did, and the chains snapped like plastic. He looked home free, when Thomas appeared in his way.

That didn't stop Roman. He knocked Thomas aside and continued for the exit. But the vampire kicked his legs out and sent Roman crashing to the floor. Before he knew it, Thomas had him pinned to the ground, and Harry and Murphy were standing over him, weapons drawn.

"You really thought it'd be that easy?" Harry growled. In his hand he held an oversized revolver that was nearly comical in size.

Roman looked up at Harry and Murphy, and laughed, "Actually, yes. I still do even."

Harry sighed, "Why do I always get the cocky clichéd ones?"

"Oh trust me, it's only cocky if you don't know what you're doing," Roman smirked, "And I know what I'm doing."

He looked over his shoulder, and Harry briefly followed his gaze. Back where he had fallen, Pyrrha was rubbing at her eyes and blinking. She swayed on her feet, and for all intents and purposes, almost looked drunk.

"Pyrrha, you alright?" Harry called.

Her eyes shot towards Harry. They were dull and lifeless. No, not right. They were blurred, like a television with poor reception. Harry felt a chill go down his spine, and Roman laughed again.

"If I were you three, I'd start running about now. I'm not sure what she's seeing, but it's definitely not something she likes."

On cue, Miló spiraled into its spear mode, and Pyrrha hefted her shield into place. Harry and Murphy both turned towards her, and started backing away. Poor Thomas looked conflicted between joining them, and keeping Roman pinned.

"Harry," he said slowly, "What do we do?"

Pyrrha narrowed her eyes, and bared her teeth in an expression that did not resemble a smile in the slightest. Harry gulped, and said, "Run Thomas. Run."


A/N: More events came out, I didn't have time to write, hence the late out of schedule update. This chapter also wound up being longer than planned, so that didn't help. I debated waiting till tomorrow to post it, or finishing it tomorrow, but decided that the next chapter won't be released until this weekend. Its a big action chapter, so I'll need time to work on it.

That said, lot of little things happened this chapter. Small revelations and friendships forming, as well as hopefully Pyrrha's last big mental breakdown for a while. I've been kinda cruel to her in that regard. But enough about that, time for questions!

Neogoki asks: Was that Mother Winter or Mab that Pyrrha gave her true name too?

Well, if I told you that, it'd be a bit of a spoiler, now would it? What I will say is this though, its a situation neither Pyrrha or Harry will be expecting.

Cowslayer asks: Will Salem appear or be a prominent background character?

Not in this story, no.

Nic61 asks: Will you have anymore details in about what training to become a huntsman entails including the fact that an average graduate will be 21 by the time they get to real big pressures of their job?

There will be a long conversation at some point in the future between Pyrrha and the others concerning her occupation, and they will better understand how Remnant works as a result.

Parks98 wants to know: What effect would magic have on Dusttech?

Well, I can't really say yet, though it definitely won't be the same as his...unique interaction with most modern gadgets.

Thats all the questions for tonight guys, and I apologize for not being on time with my usual updates. I hope to fix this in the future, and provide clear and consistent updates for you all.

In the meantime though, please leave your thoughts, criticisms, and questions in the review, and I'll see you all this Saturday.

Ta-ta for now!