A Walk in the City

Emily sat in her room and stared at her reflection. This was something she did…a lot, recently. She'd hung the hand-mirror from Thomas up on the wall opposite her bed, ignoring the crack she'd accidentally put in it when she'd first dropped it. She wasn't sure what she expected to get from the experience exactly, she just…looked. Occasionally opening her mouth, to check what was inside.

The bleeding had stopped, eventually, and the gashes had closed to leave scars. That was all that had changed.

Sixteen days on the Dreadful Wale, as Emily adjusted to her new condition. They had dragged by with the slowness and agony of a butcher's cleaver through a man's spine.

The inability to speak was debilitating; the simple act of communicating ideas transformed into a long and painstaking process. She'd quickly become acutely aware of her body language and the expressions on her face, as she tried to use them to compensate for the silence. Half her conversations turned into frustrating yes-no guessing games, which more often than not forced her to huff, turn, and scratch out the relevant word on the metal walls of the ship (which aggravated Meagan to no end).

And that was just the issues from lack of speech. Eating and drinking had suddenly become a trial, the absence of a tongue resulting in almost a dozen choking fits in the first few days alone. The safest option was to mash up her food into easily swallowable paste before putting it in her mouth, since the wreckage of her teeth made chewing difficult and painful. It had led to her taking all her meals alone to spare herself the indignity, even if Meagan never seemed to give a damn and Thomas insisted he didn't mind.

And of course, Emily couldn't sing. Her favourite pastime, one of the few talents she'd been genuinely proud of, gone. Every few nights, she'd creep off alone to the prow of the ship and try anyhow. When she failed, she'd usually cry.

To stop herself going insane, she busied herself with preparing for the task ahead. Running combat and stealth drills with Thomas to refresh her skills, reading what little the ship had on the city of Karnaca and the people she might have to face. Signing lessons as well, though those (much like her conversations now) were slow and frustrating.

Her fingers knew how to climb, write, and grip a weapon, but sign language was an entirely different game, and her naïve assumptions that her intellect and dexterity would make it easier were quickly dashed. It was a completely new language, after all, with symbols to apply to words she would just be able to say if, for instance, she'd ran after her father was frozen, instead of pushing in to fight against an unknown and seemingly unkillable foe—

(Blaming herself was another thing Emily spent a lot of time doing).

Thomas, the angel, was ceaselessly patient and encouraging. Meagan absolutely fucking wasn't, and with nothing to do but screw up repeatedly at the same task for hours on end, that relationship quickly turned barbed and cold. In truth, Emily found the woman's naked disdain for her position refreshing. It had been years since anyone had dared call her out on being a 'rich brat who lost her perspective and common sense long before she lost her tongue' (Thomas almost punched her for that one).

But progress was made. She didn't care about forming perfect sentences, just knowing the basics, and particularly the key shapes that were useful when you were…well. Heisting. Which were also the signs Meagan seemed to know suspiciously well. Brief 'nicknames' were also decided on, allowing them to quickly and silently reference each other. Emily's was a derivation of the 'your majesty' sign, Thomas' was a city watch salute. Meagan's was a raised middle finger.

The entire journey, the Outsider had not appeared again.

In the end, Emily had felt both horribly unprepared and desperate to get started when Karnaca had first appeared on the horizon.

Which led to now, when a rapping on her cabin door jolted her out of her reminiscing.

"Emily!" Thomas called. "We're docked. You coming up?"

She banged a fist once on her wall ('yes'), and bemoaned her inability to add 'give me a minute to get ready'. But hey, surely they'd cope if the entitled empress wanted to be fashionably late.

Though in this case, 'fashion' wasn't quite the right word for the necessary preparations. Emily looked across the equipment arrayed on her desk.

Her escape from Dunwall tower had taken her through her safe room; the hidden bunker designed by Sokolov to keep her safe in case of emergency. While she'd been in a complete daze after Alexi's death, she'd still had the presence of mind to grab her stash of equipment on the way out. The sad consequence of this was learning how little help her preparations really were.

She had:

-A pistol. Her backup, but still high quality. Not much ammunition.

-A 'rune'. A carved piece of whalebone, inlaid with symbols in an ancient language. Apparently, Meagan had just had one of those lying around on the ship. Not that suspicious; plenty of sailors still followed old superstitions, believed that such things were good luck. Of course, Emily knew more about what it was, what it did, what it meant, than almost anyone else in the world. But without her mark, it was almost useless to her. Perhaps she might have to resort to the offbrand 'witchcraft' that the world's unmarked could do…but without the Outsider's symbol for protection, such forays were incredibly dangerous. For now, she pocketed the rune.

Her bone tiara. A relic from her days as the Void Singer, crafted for her by Granny Rags. The veil attached to it was enchanted to prevent anyone from recognising her while it was down…provided they didn't already know who she was. Unfortunately, after she'd publicly outed herself, that now applied to just about the entire Empire of the Isles. She considered wearing it just for fun, but (much like Granny's other gift: A white dress that never dirtied no matter what she put it through) it didn't fit her anymore. It was very disappointing.

Her slingshot. Also designed for the hands of a child, not a woman of twenty-five. How she'd ever managed to knock grown men unconscious with rocks fired from the tiny thing, she had no idea. Pierro and Sokolov had both made it a mission to continue upgrading it after she'd become Empress, rendering it more and more unrecognisable, before she'd eventually told them to stop, and kept the simple palewood weapon as a memento. After all, what use did a ruler have of such a thing? There was little it could do that her magic couldn't. On a whim, she pocketed it anyway.

Her sword…the sword. A simple, single-edged steel shortsword, of a type once used by the Whaler gang under Daud. It was one she had taken from the Whalers while attacking them, and almost used to kill Corvo in a battle where neither had recognised the other. It was also (if the Outsider was to be believed, and she'd never known him to lie) the very same sword that Emily had killed her mother with.

I don't kill. I didn't kill Daud, I didn't kill Burrows. Ramsey…Ramsey was an accident. It won't happen again.

But, better to have and not need…

She sheathed the blade at her hip. Took one last look at her reflection. Then grimaced, pulled up her scarf to cover the bottom half of her face, and made her way to the deck.

Thomas looked out at Karnaca. It was…a city. Pretty from a distance, he supposed. Apparently that was true of most cities...if not Dunwall, which was ugly and brutish whatever angle you looked at it from.

He was also equipped for the upcoming mission. His officer's coat, darkened and faded after three weeks without washing, was acceptable for wetwork. Strapped beneath that were a pair of pistols. His pockets were heavy with a set of brass knuckles, and a dark leather whip hung at his hip. A knife was down the back of his boot.

Meagan wasn't equipped with anything, because she wasn't going.

Emily finally pulled open a door and stepped onto the deck of the ship, squinting briefly in the mid-afternoon sun and approaching them. She tapped her wrist, giving Meagan an inquisitive look.

"Not sure how long it will take you to make it to Addermire." The Captain answered. "Figured we'd start now. Don't want dawn to break and for you to get caught by the new guard shift."

Emily shrugged, conceding the point.

"If we're ready, get in the skiff. I can bring you to the nearby docks, but getting in's a whole other issue." Meagan led them to the smaller boat hanging off the side of the ship. "There's dock access at the back of Addermire, but it's floodlit and heavily guarded, so your only way in is the monorail from the city."

"And out?" Thomas asked, settling down in the skiff.

"I'll be waiting nearby in the water. If you take out the watchtower, I'll come get you. If not, I'll check back at the docks in twelve hours." She looked across at Emily. "That good?"

Emily didn't respond. She was staring at the side of the ship, where the words 'Dreadful Wale' were painted. She pointed to it, giving them a confused look.

"Yyyyes." Meagan raised an eyebrow. "That's the name."

Emily shook her head, pointed more forcefully at the second word, and (after a moment) made the sign for 'spelling'.

Thomas caught on, squinted at it. "Is that not how whale's spelt?"

Emily shook her head, vehemently.

"Really? I know whale like the animal has a h, but can't it also be wail as in scream? Is that not that?"

"It's neither." Meagan sighed, lowering the boat.

"Your ship's name is spelled wrong?" Thomas snorted. "Is it deliberate?"

"It's an anagram." The Captain grit out.

Emily's eyes narrowed. She pulled out the small notebook in her coat's inside pocket, the one supposed to be for mid-mission communication, and started writing down letters.

"What's she doing?" Meagan asked, worriedly, as she started the skiff's engine.

"You've given her a puzzle." Thomas groaned. "She loves the things. She'll be at that all day now."

Emily kept scribbling.

By the time they reached the docks, Emily had filled a whole page with scribbled words like 'few', 'farewell', and 'dead', but was utterly stumped. She got one full combination, but showing it to Meagan only earned her a snort.

"Defraud Wella?" The captain read. "Really? Wella is not a word."

'Name' Emily signed back, scowling.

"Is it? Yeah, no. Keep trying."

Hmph. Bet the translation's a misspelling too.

They got out, Meagan shot them an unconcerned "Don't die." and they started walking.

"Nice to just be able to walk the streets." Thomas remarked idly as they went. "I mean, we look suspicious as fuck, but it's better than being hunted or worshipped, right?"

'Language.' Emily signed back.

"What, really? I can't swear? We're not in court anymore, Emily."

She shot a glare at him.

"Oh, what are you going to do? Have me arrested? Magic me?"

She loosened her sword in its scabbard, and he laughed.

"Alright, alright." He sighed, looking around. "Outsider's eyes…This does bring back memories, though, doesn't it? You and me, out on the streets, against the world. Some prat's living in your house, you're not putting up with anything I do…"

She rolled her eyes, signing 'Not good.'

"Well, obviously, it was crap, but I do miss it sometimes." Thomas stuffed his hands in his pockets. "No messing around with meetings, no politics, no standing on guard for hours, we just knew what we were doing and we did it." He glanced at her. "You miss anything from those days?"

Emily pulled down her mask and opened her mouth, staring at him pointedly.

"Right. Your tongue." He sighed. "You know, you are hard to talk to."

Emily laughed (a breathy sort of sound), putting her mask back up—

"NO! Please!"

"I told you to have my money! I warned you!"

Shouts and screams echoed from down the street. The other civilians nearby heard it, and promptly started going somewhere else. Emily and Thomas met each other's eyes, and jogged closer.

It was a real shock (heh, 'shock') to see a wall of light in operation across the street, blocking access to the upper part of town. As Empress, Emily had judged them too oil-hungry (and too dangerous) for street-level use, and now in Dunwall they were only found in certain high security locations.

Looks like Luca's been flouting me for a while. Why did nobody report this?

Two guards were stood by the gate. One was shoving a clearly terrified man closer and closer to the crackling electrical barrier. Emily had a feeling that he wasn't keyed to the device's 'no kill' list.

"Wind powered." Thomas whispered in her ear, pointing up to where a third guard could be seen watching the proceedings. "Turbine, up there. What's the plan?"

"Please! I—I promise, I can get it, but ever since the demands went up, I—I need more time!" The man begged, as the guard grabbed him by the lapels.

Emily pointed forwards, and slammed her fist into her other palm. Then took off running. Thomas clearly got the hint, quickly sprinting after her.

The guard made to throw the man into the wall of light—Only to jerk and gargle, as the leather of Thomas' whip wrapped around his neck and yanked him backwards, letting the civilian drop.

Both guards turned, just in time to see Emily slide over the table between them and slam her heel into the first guard's crotch, making him gasp, and bring his head down to a perfect position for her to crack an elbow against the back of his skull.

The other guard drew his sword, snarling and swinging it at her, and she turned and drew her own blade, parrying the attack. That gave Thomas time to rush in and deliver a flying punch across the man's cheek, sending him stumbling.

Emily moved in, slapping the man's shoulder to spin him about and grabbing him around the neck, starting the choke—

"Emily! Gun!"

She looked up, swore, and threw her victim away, diving behind the table.

The bullet from the third guard, up by the windmill, whizzed past her head as she upturned the table. The last guard on their level stumbled away, trying to recover his breath—only for Thomas to run in, grab his face, and slam it against the wall beneath the shooter, putting him out completely.

Thomas whistled, and Emily peeked above cover, seeing him go to a kneel before the wall, cupping his hands in front of him.

The upper guard fired again, and Emily ducked once more behind the table, watching the wood splinter just to the side of her. Then vaulted it, sprinting up to Thomas. She reached him, put one foot in his hands, and he heaved, boosting her most of the way up the wall. She took two more steps on the vertical surface, got a hand on the upper railing, and hauled herself over. The guard looked surprised for a moment before her foot slammed into his arms, knocking his gun to the floor.

He stumbled backwards, desperately drawing his sabre—

Only to freeze, as Emily's pistol came to a rest less than a foot from his face.

"Who are you people?" He gasped, eyes wide.

Emily jerked her pistol downwards. The man gulped, dropping the sword and raising his hands, at which point she switched to holding the pistol's barrel and clubbed him in the head with the butt of it.

He was out like a light.

Emily glanced back over the wall, to where Thomas had just finished kicking the head of the first guard who was still blearily trying to crawl away. The victim had already scarpered by this point.

"That counts as me getting two!" Thomas called up to her, grinning, then tilted his head at the wall of light. "So how are we actually dealing with this?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, and (without looking away) pointed her pistol up at the wind turbine and fired.

There was a great shower of sparks, two of the propellers fell off, and the electronics all deactivated.

"…Aaight, I suppose that works."

There were shouts from a building near Emily. She turned, winced, then slid over the wall back down to Thomas' level, rolling on the floor and running towards him—

"OI!"

The shout was from through the gate. Their dash through was halted, Emily's eyes locking onto the source…but she frowned when she realised it wasn't a guard, but a woman leaning out through a doorway.

"You two done being loud enough for the entire city to hear you?" The woman called, glancing around. "If so, get your rear ends in here!"

If there was one thing that Dunwall and Karnaca had in common, it was that the back streets were absolute labyrinths.

The woman with blonde hair and sunken cheeks led them through various twists and turns, as the shouts of guards (the gunshots had attracted a lot of attention) faded away behind them.

Eventually, she led them down into a cellar area lit by various candles, and sat herself down in a ratty armchair.

There was an empty, shallow grave dug into the sand next to her. Thomas didn't question it.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" The woman said, looking between them. "I can tell you two are new in town. Nobody confronts the Grand Guard that openly. Not without dying or taking over the country within a month."

"We prefer to be quieter, but sometimes it's just not on the cards." Thomas answered, going for a charming smile. "Thanks for the save back there. We owe you one."

"Don't. I don't do favours." She lit a cigarette, waving it in the air to punctuate her point. "I saved your bacon, and you took out the wall of light. It will take them weeks to fix that."

She shot him a smile of her own. "The name's Mindy Blanchard. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Pleasure's all mine. I'm Thomas." He glanced across at Emily, who looked back at him. Eh…sod it. "Uh, this is Emily Kaldwin, Empress of the Isles."

Emily's eyes narrowed and she punched his shoulder. Mindy just chuckled. "Sure thing, I can respect a need for privacy. Does the Empress not speak?"

"She does the thinking; I do the talking." Thomas answered, smoothly.

"Then let's talk." Mindy crossed one leg over the other, taking a drag from her cigarette. "Here's some things I know. One: You're both competent. Two: You're both headed for Addermire."

"That's a big assumption." Thomas pointed out.

"Good one though. You're both armed to the nines, you smashed through the checkpoint like you didn't give a damn who wanted to stop you, and the only interesting thing near this district is the Addermire Institute." She nodded up in a direction that might have been their target. "But you're not going to be able to get into the station that easily. It's crawling with guards, and they're all on alert now."

"You have a proposal?" Thomas asked, crossing his arms.

"I have something I…need retrieving." Mindy explained. When he raised his eyebrow at that, "Specifically, the something that belongs in there." She pointed at the grave. "But the poor bastard's body is currently up in the Overseer outpost nearby. Get that for me, I can help you."

"Help us how?"

"By getting you a way in." Mindy paused and raised a hand. Thomas waited…only to hear the rumblings of a train cart passing them, making dust rain from the ceiling.

"…Did you time that?" He asked.

"No, that was luck." Mindy admitted. "That train leads right past the station, past the carriage to Addermire. I have a way to bring down power to the tracks. If you retrieve me my body, I'll give you your way in."

Thomas chewed the inside of his mouth, thinking. Is it worth it? Sneaking into one building just to make it easier to sneak into another feels…sort of unhelpful. But we've got a lot of help from criminals in the past. Slackjaw was (still is) a real asset.

"Hm. Emily, what do you…" He turned. The Empress wasn't there. "…Emily?"

Emily perched on top of a railing, looking down at the train tracks, when she heard a grunt of exertion behind her. She turned to see Thomas clambering up to her level.

She waved.

He glared at her.

"What was that?" He asked. "You're not even going to hear her out?"

Emily shrugged.

"Because I thought that would be right up your alley. Befriending the street rats, helping them, having them help you…"

She looked away, trying to think about how to vocalise (or, not) her thought process. Eventually, she just signed 'too long'.

I did a lot of that, didn't I? Making friends in strange places. Coming up with all these clever solutions to my problems. Made a great story, but looking back, it all feels a little…quaint.

She couldn't afford to be convoluted any more. Especially now her magic was gone. Did she trust Mindy? Eh, maybe. But she didn't have time to waste running quests across half of Karnaca.

Besides, she now knew that the train tracks led where she needed to go. And she'd come up with her own solution.

The tracks started to shake again, and Emily stood fully, looking along them.

Thomas followed her gaze, frowning. "What's the plan?"

Emily used her fingers to mime a jump.

He blinked—And then his eyes widened. "Wait, what? You can't be serious!" He looked the other way along the tracks, then exclaimed "There's spikes over there! There isn't room for us on top!"

Emily tuned him out, tensing. With a screech of metal on metal, a train cart appeared around a bend in the tracks, carrying a load of Void-knows-what. She checked the direction it was travelling, waited until the right moment—

And jumped.

Her feet hit the mess in the cart and she skidded backwards, the shift in relative velocity almost throwing her off her feet. A shouted curse and a crash told her Thomas had followed, but she didn't even check, running to the back of the cart and sliding to the edge.

"FENCE, EMILY!" Thomas shouted. She checked over her shoulder and saw he was right, the spiked metal fence that came down almost to the top of the cart getting rapidly closer, so she wasted no time grabbing the lip of the cart and dropping off the back, hanging from the edge by her fingertips.

"Oh for the love of—"

Thomas jumped.

Emily realised, very quickly, that she had essentially taken up all the space on the back of the cart, and stretched her arm out. Thomas caught it (Void, he's heavy—) and she grit her teeth, his arm snapped taught, he jerked to a halt, feet dangling not a foot above the electrified tracks, Emily's fingers whitened and her arm burned and she opened her mouth but couldn't scream and—

—The spikes passed less than two centimetres above Emily's fingertips—

—And then they were through, Emily looked around, there was a dock at the level of the carriage just beside her, she couldn't tell Thomas to jump so she just tried to swing him and he caught on, grabbing the edge of the carriage and hauling himself across to drop stumbling onto the platform, a platform that was rapidly falling away as the cart kept going so Emily kicked off the back of the cart and she didn't have enough speed—

Thomas grabbed her outstretched arms and yanked her towards him. She fell against his chest and he grunted, slamming back against the wall.

They stood there for a few seconds, panting for breath. Then Thomas pushed her out to arm's length.

"You do know that you're insane, right?" He insisted. "Like, absolutely bloody bonkers?"

She smiled and pulled away, swinging her arm in its socket and wincing.

"As in, seriously, that was your plan?" He protested, following her. "Emily, you don't have powers. You can't just throw yourself off ledges anymore!"

She put a finger to her lips, crouching and moving up.

"Oh, you little…" He glared, but complied, following her.

From here, it was an easy walk to the carriage. There were two guards on station, easy enough for them to simultaneously choke unconscious. Then, before the rest of the guards in the station could notice, they both hopped in.

"You know how to drive one of these?" Thomas asked, pulling the door shut.

Pfft. I have people for that.

She gave him a condescending look. He sighed, and pulled the lever between the two seats, causing some mechanism inside the machine to whir to life.

The carriage started moving. The Addermire Institute loomed in the distance.

"Well. Success." Thomas leaned back in his seat and rested his head in his arms, kicking his feet up. "For our first heist without magic, that could have gone worse."

Emily also sagged, stabilising her breathing. It looked like the rail-trip to the institute was going to take a while. Hoping for some sort of distraction, she patted down her own pockets, and pulled out the rune.

"I mean, we're not exactly done yet." Thomas continued rambling. Emily was so grateful that he rambled. Silence had started to feel very oppressive as of late. "Because I imagine the institute has its own guards. And, possibly, a psychotic mass murderer. Do you think we could get the doc to help? Hypatia?"

Emily shrugged, noncommittally. The rune was…making noise? That was new. She squinted at it, trying to figure out why it was producing the strange ringing sound.

If I just had the darkvision back, this would be so much easier.

"…because if they—Emily? Emily?" Thomas' voice sounded worried. That was enough to get Emily's full attention back. She jerked her head up to face him—

Only to find that he was gone. Everything was gone.

Emily blinked, her eyes struggling to adjust to the suddenly dim lighting of the world around her. A strange whistling in her ears and the sudden cold of the air against her body told her where she was…even if it didn't make any sense.

"Karnaca. Once a lovely city. 'Once' being relative, and 'lovely' being relative too. Ever do its occupants complain about their lot, wistfully describing how wonderful things were ten, twenty, fifty years ago. But it's rotten now, alright. Even here, the stench fills my nose."

Emily turned to the source of the voice, saw nothing. Then the Outsider appeared in the periphery of her vision.

"It was amusing to watch you miss this." The god continued, perched on an outcropping of rock. "You visited Karnaca not five years ago, when the Duke's selfishness was already a blight upon the city. But you only saw the beauty of the coastline, the lavishness of your own quarters, the festivals…is this your first time ever walking these streets?"

"I'll be making some changes when I have my throne back." Emily snapped—then blinked, licked her lips. Everything seemed to be as it was before the attack.

Well. That's nice. But while I'm here…

"Why didn't you give me your mark?" She asked.

"I didn't want to." The Outsider replied, entirely unhelpfully.

"Why?" Emily demanded, thinking back to their conversation. "Is it because I was rude? I can apologise."

"It wasn't your demeanour that bothered me." With a blur, the Outsider was somewhere else, pacing beside her. "People have screamed, begged, cried, attacked…none of it moves me anymore. It's all so ephemeral. All I really feel are ups and downs in my state of interest…most of the time."

"Then what did I do?" Emily begged, trying to move closer and put a hand on his shoulder, only for him to vanish again. "Please. I don't think I can do this without you."

"Do you remember our conversation at the end of the rat plague?" His voice asked from behind her. "After I offered to take your mark away, and you refused?"

"I…do." Emily thought back, narrowing her eyes. Fifteen years ago, yes, but those days had been burned into her mind. "Just like now, you were talking about how not much makes you feel anything. You asked if I could empathise with you, I said I would."

"I asked you if you would be willing to try and save me." The Outsider continued, appearing in front of her. "You said you would. You asked me how you could help. And then what did you do?"

Emily opened her mouth. Closed it. "I…well, I didn't—"

"You did nothing." He teleported right in front of her face, his voice rising for the first time she'd ever heard, black eyes staring right into her.

She stumbled backwards, eyes wide. "I…I was going to! I didn't have time!"

"You didn't make time." The Outsider responded. "You went back to your home, and lapsed into the day-to-day running of the Empire."

"There's a lot to do when you're running an Empire!" Emily protested. "We were trying to pull ourselves out of an international crisis! I had to—"

"Every moment? Of every day?" He asked. "I was quite content to give you time. Years mean little to me after all. But as time passed, and you remained engrossed in your duties, I came to realise that there would always be something you needed to do. You were waiting until you were finished with one responsibility before moving on to the other. You were waiting for a day that would never come."

"I never meant to put you aside." She tried to pacify. "If you'd let me know you were getting impatient, I would have—"

"You gave me hope, Emily Kaldwin." He interrupted her. "And then you took it away. It was…interesting, just how much that stung. Daud disappointed me. Delilah angered me. But you…you upset me. You let me down."

Emily looked away, reeling. She hadn't ever…had she? She'd been going to help him. She just couldn't afford to set the time aside while her Empire was in such a state. Then there had been the oil crisis, and the Crown Killer, a dozen other things…and the longer she'd left it, the less she'd even thought about the Outsider's request.

Case in point: Now that she thought back, he'd been prompting her in their last conversation and she hadn't remembered.

Still. Easily fixed.

"Then I'll do it." She said.

"Really? Just like you said last time?"

"I know, I know I've let you down." Emily clenched her fists. "I've been a fool—to myself—I thought that…look, I'm sorry. But I promise that I will help you this time; no more waiting, no more forgetting, no more dallying." He didn't look convinced. Time to be slightly scummy.

"Come on." She pressed. "Who else can do it? Who else would offer? However many millennia, you said I'm the first person who's ever empathised with you. That means I'm still your best shot."

The Outsider tilted his head. "And you would start immediately?"

Emily prepared to agree…then winced. "Well. The moment I'm done with Delilah—"

"Of course." He glanced away. "What did I expect…"

"Please." Emily reiterated. "It will only take me a few weeks—"

"I know more than any how weeks can turn into months, years, centuries." His eyes were cold. "Now. Or not at all."

"I can't—" Emily grimaced, "—They have Sokolov, and he's dying! They have my father! Every second I wait the further my family and my Empire is plunged into darkness, I can't set that aside!"

"Would you fight Delilah powerless, and alone?" He asked.

"If I have to. Please do not make me."

"You cannot bring yourself to wait a few weeks longer?"

"NO!"

"Then you understand how I feel." He turned away. "Goodbye, Emily Kaldwin."

"No, wait—"

The Void peeled away around her, and she shot to her feet in the slowly darkening real world.

"…Emily?" Thomas asked, hesitantly. "What was that?"

MOTHERFUCKER! She tried to scream into the sky, shaking her rune.

But she couldn't scream. So she was silent.

Emily's first adventure while powerless is underway, and she's getting a feel for just how much of a pain that is. Not to mention learning why the Outsider was so unwilling to help her.

He wants her to do the DLC. She has other plans.

Next chapter is Addermire, and all the chaos that that implies. Let's see if Emily can pull off a no powers run of...I was going to say 'one of my favourite missions' but this game has so many good missions I can't make that call. Eh, whatever.