A Demonstration of Power

Emily had forgotten what real power felt like.

…Okay, that was the evillest thought she'd had in a while. But it was true.

After weeks handicapped on the Dreadful Wale, the return of her abilities was an absolute relief, even if her voice was still missing. But more than that, she finally had an opportunity to properly exercise them again. During her reign as Empress, she'd rarely had the chance to employ her abilities outside occasional rooftop runaways.

She'd certainly not had the opportunity to tear through large groups of guards like they were tissue paper.

Near the end of the rat plague, after dealing with Daud and Granny Rags, she had reached the point where there was basically nothing that the conventional police force could do to stop her. Looking up at the Kingsparrow Island lighthouse and being certain that she could easily conquer the place had been…exhilarating, even if she'd known it hadn't been the best way to get her Empire back. Now, she was fifteen years older, back at full strength, and entirely justified in demonstrating to the Grand Guard exactly how bad of an idea it was to maintain their current allegiances.

The Dreadful Wale had been docked at a mostly abandoned Karnaca port. Emily had taken the skiff up to the Aventa district, while Thomas and Meagan had made their way by rail to the Northern Campo Seta district. The trip up to Jindosh's clockwork mansion had taken her up through various layers of the city, all heavily policed by the Grand Guard. None of it had been enough to stop her. And now, here she was. Right outside the front doors of the Clockwork Mansion.

Those mechanical soldiers of his might prove a more serious challenge. And what I've heard of the house itself is an entirely different issue.

Underneath her mask, Emily smiled.

This is going to be fun.

Thomas, from his position 'scouting' on top of the wall, looked down at Meagan. The older woman was standing among a swarm of almost a dozen rats, handing out morsels of the bread that had gone mouldy two days ago.

Seriously, is it only me who finds those things creepy?

"He's here." Meagan said after a minute, standing. "They say there's a man locked in the basement of this place. There's always awful music playing around him, but he lets them lick the blood off his fingers."

"You talk to rats." Thomas said, flatly.

She looked up at him, briefly pulling open her coat to reveal some strange wooden thing tucked against her chest.

"A gift," She explained, "from an old sweetheart."

Thomas smiled, jumping down. The pair of them stepped out from the alleyway, and into the street in front of the Albarca Baths.

"You had a sweetheart?" He prompted. "That's adorable! What happened to them?"

"Died. Killed when I was still a dumb teenager." Meagan said, voice cold.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago." She glanced away.

"You get the people responsible?" Thomas asked.

"Most of them." They walked up the steps into the bathhouse. "But you'll never guess who actually did the deed."

"Who?"

Meagan's eyes narrowed. "Luca Abele."

Thomas' eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"I could never forget his face." She looked across at Thomas. "If and when the time comes to take care of him? I want to do it."

"Emily doesn't kill." He warned.

"Good thing I'm not asking her to." She glanced away. "Eyes up. We're here."

The Albarca Baths were packed with people. As they walked past the throngs into the central area, they saw a boxing ring where two fighters were in the middle of a spar. Thomas could tell (even without his newly enhanced sense for the magical) that there was something unnatural about their movements. One was spryer than he had any right to be, almost blurring as he darted about the ring, while the other moved with a weight that belied her small frame. Every time one landed a punch, the crowds that were watching exploded with shouts and jeers.

"Bone charm enhancements, from the looks of it." Meagan remarked, leaning into Thomas' ear so she could be heard over the commotion. "The Eyeless gang is apparently big on the occult."

"Mmhmm." Thomas glanced around, straining his eyes and ears for the characteristic hum of carved whalebone. "Lots of it around. Got a good thing going here."

"So the question is, where's…" Meagan looked down, and gasped. "Oh, shit."

Thomas followed her gaze.

While floorspace was a valuable commodity that they'd had to jostle violently for, there was a square of space just in front of the ring that was entirely unoccupied. It was easy to see why. A simple steel grating was the only thing above a lower chamber, from within which came a painful stinging ring Thomas recognised. Overseer music. It was being blasted from speakers on all four corners of the room. And in the centre, strapped to a chair, was an old man with pale white skin and hair. His pain was visible, as was the danger lurking in his eyes.

If Thomas wasn't actively looking for it, he would have never recognised this as the man from all the decade-old wanted posters. Daud: The knife of Dunwall.

"They're torturing him…" Meagan muttered, almost too quietly to hear over the din.

"More than that. They're making him fight." Thomas nudged her shoulder, and pointed up to the blackboard hanging above the ring. Right at the top (next to the portrait of the Outsider) was the title 'The Black Magic Brute', with twenty six wins and no losses.

Three guesses who that is…

"Looks about right." Meagan agreed. "Daud's never lost a fight."

"Well. He lost one." Thomas pointed out.

She gave him a dirty look.

The heavy fighter grabbed the fast fighter, and delivered a punch that snapped his head around at a very wrong angle, making him collapse to the ground. The crowd exploded.

"We need to get him out." Meagan decided. "If we turn that music off, he could bring down everyone in here by himself."

"Question is, how?" Thomas asked, looking around again. With so much pushing and shoving, it was difficult to even grasp the room's dimensions, never mind properly case the area.

"I'm the cripple, you're the warlock. You got any ideas?"

Thomas rolled his tongue around his teeth, thinking. "Yeah. One."

Before she could reply, he strode forwards.

Nobody stopped him as he stepped right over the top of Daud's cage (the music reverberating through his shoes and making his teeth ache), before grabbing the ropes of the ring and hauling himself up into it.

"OI!" He shouted over the crowd. "WHAT'S A MAN GOT TO DO TO FIGHT THE BLACK MAGIC BRUTE, EY?"

Emily pulled a lever, and watched as the room shifted around her. Cabinets folded away, floors became walls, walls moved around and fell in upon themselves. Within thirty seconds, a fairly blank room became the entrance hall of a grand manor. Wide staircases led up to a higher area, and standing motionless in front of one door was another clockwork soldier.

"Ah, I see I have a visitor. And the uninvited kind, too. My favourite." The voice was tinny, echoing through speakers somewhere in the room. "Welcome! Please, come and see me. I await you just up the stairs."

Broken glass crackled beneath Emily's feet as she stepped away from the lever and moved further into the hall, giving the clockwork soldier a wide berth and making her way up the stairs. At the far end was a glass door that led to a corridor suspended in mid-air, leading over the waterfall that powered the house. At first, it seemed to have no floor. But as Emily approached, panels from the wall folded down to build one, piece by piece.

Kirin Jindosh walked towards her, smiling genially.

"Now that I see you, I've worked out who you are." He declared. "Your movements are refined, elegant, but there's this contradicting discomfort in them. You're used to navigating ballrooms and battlefields, but you've recently been injured, and you're not sure about your own movements yet. Your clothes are high quality, Dunwall fashion, but they're functional, and they haven't been washed in some weeks. Fallen on hard times, I take it? So you're a well-trained noble who's fallen from grace and is here for a very serious reason. From there, it doesn't take much to guess."

He smirked, and bowed. "Of course, I have been appraised of events in Dunwall, and have been expecting you. The silence is a dead giveaway. Welcome, ex-empress Kaldwin."

Emily raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

'Not my face?' She signed. If he's such a genius, he probably knows sign.

Jindosh blinked, then shrugged. "Well, to be honest, I was never very good with faces. What was I supposed to do, memorise the eyes of my empress? Besides, you are wearing a mask."

Emily pulled her neckerchief down, and he cackled delightedly. "Oh, that looks painful! So, my dear, may I ask why you're here?"

She pointed a finger directly at him.

"Ah, yes, I understand. Something about the army of clockwork machines might be causing you some concern. Apparently a good chunk of Dunwall's navy and soldiery is still loyal to you. We'll see how long that lasts..." He tapped his chin. "I'll admit, I expected you to be here for Anton Sokolov. No loyalty to washed up old men, eh?"

Emily just shrugged, and stepped forwards.

"Ah-ah-ah! I wouldn't." Jindosh chuckled. He rapped a knuckle on the door between them. "This door may look ornamental, but I assure you it is quite impregnable. You wouldn't be the first to try and put a bullet in my eye straight through it. But every interloper in my home has been dealt with before so much as reaching my laboratory."

Emily raised her arms, but hesitated, unsure how to phrase herself using her limited vocabulary.

Jindosh noticed, and rolled his eyes. "Just mime writing the words on your palm, dear, I can read the movements."

Bloody genii…

Emily tried not to glower, and complied. 'Why are you doing this, exactly?' she wrote.

Jindosh raised an eyebrow. "My my, what a strange question. Why would you ask that?"

'Curiosity. Surely that's something you understand?' Emily wrote, giving him a significant look.

"Hah! As noble a goal as any, I suppose." The inventor turned, and began pacing. "Do you know, I was expelled from Dunwall's Academy of Natural Philosophy? They weren't happy with the directions my research took, I suppose. Which is amusing, because honestly, some of the experiments going on in there seemed to me much more distasteful than my own."

'You studied under Anton Sokolov.' Emily wrote. She had, once she'd learned Jindosh's name, researched all she could about him.

"I did, yes. He actually spoke out in my defence, but it was one of the few times all the other old fogeys dared to oppose him." Jindosh spread his arms. "In Dunwall I was shamed and ridiculed. Here in Karnaca, the Duke made me Grand Inventor, and gave me all the funding and freedoms I could ask for. It's a fairly simple choice."

'And now he wants you to build him an army.' Emily said.

"Yes, indeed. I must confess, I'm not too fond of the idea of mass-production of my soldiers. I have a certain sentimentality for the idea of them all being handmade by me." Jindosh sighed. "But you can't roll back progress, Emily Kaldwin. The cat is out of the bag. Now that I have created them, it will not be long before my design is replicated across the isles. I thought you would like the idea, with your famous pacifism. Now, the next time a war starts, fewer soldiers need to die."

'People can choose when to kill. When not to kill.' Emily countered. 'Deploying robots surrenders all responsibility.'

"Ah, philosophy. My least favourite of the natural philosophies." Jindosh reached up, and smoked from his pipe-hand-thing. "I suppose they could be equipped with non-lethal tools for peace-time law keeping, have their decision making matrices tweaked…but that is for later. You worry about the now. About the army of clockworks, thousands strong, with which Delilah may take over the Empire and beyond. I'm not sure why you're bothered. One or both of you will probably be dead before that army ever rolls off the production line…"

'And why Delilah?' Emily pressed. 'I understand the Duke as your patron, but a witch?'

"How odd for you to be biased against witches." Jindosh tittered. "There, it is more a matter of necessity. I am a pragmatic man, and Delilah is a woman with an absurd level of personal power. At first, I simply indulged Luca's whimsy to maintain his favour. But now, it's more that I'm far too scared of her to disobey."

'She's evil.' Emily warned. 'Evil and mad. She'll kill you.'

Jindosh shrugged. "If I give her reason to, yes, I imagine so. So it's in my best interests to give her no such reason. And in the meantime, I can at least use her and her coven to study the Void."

'That sounds like coercion, not a partnership.' Emily judged. 'What if I could take care of her?'

Jindosh paused, then chuckled. "Is that what this wonderful line of questioning is about? You wish to recruit me?"

Emily hesitated. 'I…Don't want to kill you.' She wrote out. 'But I can't find a way to stop you without killing you that I deem humane. I'm hoping you can offer me another way.'

Jindosh smiled. "How blunt of you! I do appreciate that. So, you're pointing out that you plan to tear down those currently in power, establish your own rulers…and that I would be best served defecting to your cause ahead of time. Banking on my mercenary nature, that's always a good play—but why should serving you be any better than serving Delilah?"

'I'm much less likely to kill you.' Emily answered, simply.

"And why should I believe you?"

'I'm naïve and idealistic, and like to think of myself as the goodie.'

Jindosh fully laughed. "Oh, quite right! But then the question remains of your own competence. Naivete and foolishness go hand in hand, and while Duke Abele is a fool, Delilah is certainly not. She defeated you before. What's to stop it happening again?"

'I'm ready now.' Emily answered. 'When we next meet, I'll have learned how to solve her immortality, and I'll be the one on the offensive.'

"Hmm…yet I imagine you were just as confident the last time…" Jindosh took another puff from his pipe, thinking. Then a gleam appeared in his eye. "I know. How about a little test?"

'A test.' Emily repeated.

"Indeed. A test of your wit, your power, and your skill." Jindosh spread his arms. "My home is well-built to keep out intruders. Come and find me! If you successfully make your way to me in my office, it will prove that you're clever enough to take on your usurper. I will surrender to your side and act as you order me to. But, if you die, I'll have your body brought to my lab for dissection and study."

Oh?

'You'll turn on the Duke and Delilah?' Emily checked.

"Provided it is not directly self-destructive, yes." Jindosh answered.

'And all I have to do is reach you?'

"Reach a position where you can touch me unhindered. Do we have a deal?"

Emily smiled.

'Deal.'

And then she opened the door, and stepped through.

An hour earlier, Emily stepped through into the unobtrusive rectangular room. She reached out for the lever…and hesitated.

In the infamous clockwork mansion of a mad genius, following the path he had laid out for her sounded like a terrible idea.

She looked around. The ceiling, she noticed, was glass. She used a grapple to pull herself up, hanging onto the edge of the window. Looked around once more, then brought an elbow up, and smashed one of the panes. Broken glass showered down around the lever, and she pulled herself through the opening, entering the space between the walls.

"Okay, be honest with me Bridget. How did you do it?"

Bridget turned a face of practised innocence to meet Bella's incredulous expression. "How do you mean?"

"We were in Addermire as an hour-long hurricane of criminal something came through and kidnapped Doctor Hypatia." Bella reminded her, whispering. "And we didn't even notice because we were up chatting in the private rooms! But now, somehow, we're working in Jindosh's mansion!"

"Considering what happened to everyone else down there, I think we made the right call." Bridget pointed out. "And clearly the higher-ups recognised our common sense. We were protecting one important asset, now we're protecting another."

"Yes, we're just model guards, aren't we." Bella rolled her eyes.

Bridget shrugged. "Or, you accept the explanation that I used my extensive influence to get us a better job."

"Oh, well, maybe. You're a private first class now."

"I know, right?" Bridget turned to look at the automaton in the nearby alcove, and shivered. "Just wish we'd been put anywhere else…"

"You don't like all the clockworks?" Bella asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't like all the tech. Everything's buzzing in my ear all the time."

"Oh, right. I forgot I was talking to the person who couldn't use an oil-powered kettle at sixteen years old—"

"Hey! I managed that eventually!" Bridget huffed. "And besides, you're only happy here because you called Jindosh an asshole and he didn't notice."

"I didn't mean it! It just slipped out!" The taller woman protested (seriously, how is she almost six foot, its ridiculous), "But Jindosh is weird. He doesn't care what we say, just that we do our jobs. I can work with that."

"I could, if there wasn't a chance that any minute the floor would move under—"

Bridget's reply was cut short, as she heard a strange subsonic boom. Nearby, a window that led to the space between the walls clicked shut. Nobody that Bridget had seen had entered the corridor, and nobody was meant to be working back there.

"Hey, Bells." She spoke up, quietly. "Your shift ends pretty soon, right?"

Bella looked at her. "Yeah, but not yet. Why?"

"I just…feel like maybe we shouldn't be on duty right about now."

Anton Sokolov stirred in his bed, as a hand gently shook his shoulder. Body aching, he groaned, turning to see —

"Emily!" He gasped. His voice was weak and hoarse. "Heh! I should have known you'd make your way here."

Emily looked awful, he noticed, but her eyes lit up at seeing him. They were still in his room in the assessment chamber, and the occasional clunking of mechanical footsteps led him to believe that she'd gotten in while barely disturbing the dust.

Reminds me of the day she showed up in my lab completely unannounced. And wearing the guise of her mother, no less…

Emily didn't reply, so he pressed "What about Jindosh? Have you taken care of him yet? I know your preferred methods, my girl, but that man is dancing around the edge of a discovery that will cheapen his clockworks by twentyfold. I've had to be careful not to push him into it by accident."

Emily winced, but again didn't respond. He frowned. "Emily? Are you alright?"

She sighed. Then pulled her mask down, and opened her mouth.

Sokolov's eyes widened, and his heart started beating in his ears. "Oh, you poor thing…" he muttered. But the sudden adrenaline made his head spin, and his vision blur. He felt the unconsciousness coming a second before it hit, and only had time to hope that she had the strength to carry him…

Emily rested Sokolov's body in the seat of the carriage she'd taken up to the mansion. She made to get in next to him…and paused.

Looked back up at the house.

Grit her teeth.

Kicked the side of the car in frustration, and made her way back to the door.

Kirin Jindosh was working at his desk. On the level below him, completely unnoticed, Emily looked through the notes scribbled down near the electroshock machine.

Her expression grew only more horrified the more she read.

Destruction of Sokolov's higher reasoning skills while leaving his intellect? Or worse, tearing his mind apart almost completely, rendering him a dullard, or a vegetable? Outsider's Eyes, Jindosh. I'd call you utterly irredeemable…if I didn't know Sokolov once deliberately infected healthy patients, or designed the arc pylons.

She looked up through the ceiling at where she could hear him muttering to himself.

It would certainly deal with the threat he poses…No. Destroying his mind? It would be no better than killing him. He'd probably rather I put a bullet in his head, if given the choice.

But that left her with precious few options to actually stop the man. Kidnapping him and imprisoning him on the Dreadful Wale was looking like the only option, as much as it would piss Meagan off to no end.

As she thought, a whimsical thought crossed her mind.

He's a genius, right? I wonder if he has any ideas?

There was a walkway leading out of his workshop, that led directly back to the house's entrance. The floor wasn't down, and she didn't want to raise his attention, so she grappled up and crawled along the boards that were stacked vertically along one side of the passage, the waterfall rushing beneath her.

She reached the door. Quietly unlocked it. Opened it, then closed it behind her. Snuck back through the window she'd smashed into the initial room.

Then pulled the lever.

"Wh—What..?" Jindosh babbled, stepping backwards, his eyes as wide as saucers.

'I win.' Emily signed, casually.

"But…But that's not…" Jindosh looked at her, then behind her at the unlocked door, then back to her.

He reached for his sword.

Her foot crashed up between his legs before he could grab it, making him squeak and drop to his knees. She drew her sword and swung the hilt at the side of his head, knocking him out cold.

"Wanna bet on me?" Thomas asked Meagan as he passed, flashing her a grin.

"Not a chance, police boy. Because Daud would win, and because you're not finishing the fight." She shot back.

"Then get the music turned off fast. I'll avoid knocking him unconscious for as long as I can."

"If he lets you."

"Whatever makes you feel better."

"Down here!" Shouted the woman, Jeanette, as two of her goons opened the trap door.

Thomas looked down, then gave her a questioning look. "We're not doing this in the ring?"

"He doesn't leave his cell." She replied, flatly. "You want to fight the Brute, you have to drop to his level."

Jeanette was looking at him like he was already dead. Made sense, given Daud's record. It was probably the only reason she'd actually allowed him to fight, despite not being a proper member. Must be hard to get people who dare to fight the guy nowadays. Toss in a stupid outsider, get him killed, rake in the gambling money.

And the way he'd taken down another fighter in seconds had probably been an indicator that he'd last long enough for it to be entertaining.

So he shrugged, dropped straight down into the pit. His knees ached a bit more than they should have, because the moment the music started really getting to him, his connection to Emily (and consequently his enhancements) faded. He stood, narrowing his eyes. If Daud's got no magic, how's this even going to be a fight? He looks like he can barely stand.

Another gang member climbed down after Thomas, moving forwards with a pistol in his hands pointed straight at Daud.

"Alright, Brute, you know the drill. Don't try anything funny. Not yet, anyway." The man reached under Daud's chair and started pulling levers, undoing the restraints. Daud, for his part, barely even reacted. The man didn't even look like he noticed they were there.

Upstairs, Jeanette was giving some sort of speech to hype up the crowd. Down with Thomas, the other Eyeless finished freeing the prisoner and moved past Thomas, grinning at him.

"Word of advice." He said, taking the ladder back up. "Normally, you can surrender any time after first blood. Heh, but there's not much we can do to stop the Brute once he's onto ya. So just keep your neck covered, and pray he don't kill ya."

"What, not gonna give me any hints about his footwork?" Thomas asked.

The man just laughed again, as the trapdoor slammed shut over them. Thomas shrugged, turning to Daud, who was still writhing in his chair.

"Oi, old man!" He called. "Not sure if you can even hear this, but if you can, hold your horses a sec! I'm here with—"

Something clunked. The music changed.

The first thing Thomas noticed was his connection to the Void flicker, and strengthen. Not fully, not enough for his usual stunts, but enough to let him use his more subtle enhancements, and presumably enough for the gang's bone charms to work.

Okay, that wasn't the first thing he noticed. The first thing was the way Daud's eyes snapped into focus and locked onto Thomas. The old man blurred out of his chair, almost too fast for Thomas to track, and delivered a right hook across his jaw.

Then he realised all that other stuff.

"Ow, ya fucker—" Thomas blocked the next two punches, "Listen a second, alright, I'm—"

Daud tried to knee between Thomas' legs, and he was barely able to bring his own leg up to knock it aside, just in time to get an elbow between his ribs.

Thomas' eyes narrowed. "Alright then."

He dropped his stance, covered his head, and shoved. Daud was only able to beat ineffectually at the top of his arms before stumbling back one step, two, in time for Thomas to kick at one of his legs, bat aside a counter-strike, and deliver a straight punch to Daud's temple that rocked his head backwards.

The crowd exploded at that, so they probably didn't hear when Thomas shouted "Listen, you bastard! I'm here with Emily Kaldwin!"

Daud paused for almost a second, recognition flashing in his eyes. Then he was back in, arms up, and striking at Thomas' gut.

"Liar." He uttered, once he was close.

Thomas knocked the punch aside, responded with two jabs of his own. "She's my friend. She and Corvo came to stop you in the Flooded District. Cor—ngh—Corvo worked with you for weeks. You begged Emily for your life and she let you keep it."

There. That's not something I could get from a newspaper.

Daud's eyes widened, and his strikes dropped in ferocity. They were practically boxing now; guards high, attacking each other with intention to wear down rather than kill.

"What does she want?" The assassin demanded.

"Fuck knows. For now, you, out of here."

"And how are you doing that?"

Thomas grinned. "Keep stalling. I have a friend upstairs."

Meagan Foster casually stepped behind Jeanette Lee.

A lot of the skills she'd learned had become less and less effective as she'd aged, and especially once she'd been crippled. But some of her talents only grew more effective when she looked about as threatening as a…she wasn't good at metaphors. Point was she only had one arm, so she didn't seem very dangerous.

For all her vaunted ruthlessness, Jeanette's focus was on the fight, as was everyone else's. It was trivial for Meagan to move past her and slip a key off her belt without her noticing.

The mechanism for keeping Daud imprisoned was ingenious, really. There was a lever in a lockbox just above his 'cell'. Said lever had three options: 'on', 'fight', and 'off'. Jeanette had switched it to 'fight' just before combat had started. Presumably, it was some less intense version of the Overseer music that let the spectacle remain, and kept Daud on top of the competition. But if Meagan turned it off…

She unlocked the box, and hesitated. Once the restrictions were off, Daud could do anything. She'd seen him vanish in one place, and reappear in another as severed heads littered the street around him. Nothing could stop him, certainly not these two-bit cultists…but that also meant he could do whatever he wanted to her.

When I first betrayed him, he let me go. Who's to say he still has that same mercy? I could die without even getting the chance to blink.

…Well. I'd deserve it, wouldn't I?

She pulled the lever all the way down.

Daud grunted, as Thomas' knee dug into his chest.

"I thought we were pretending." He growled.

"We are." Thomas replied, grinning. "I'm just getting my lumps while I have the chance."

"What did I do to you?"

"It's more what you did to—"

The music stopped.

Thomas sagged slightly in relief, feeling his powers flow back, before looking at Daud…who raised an eyebrow.

The smarter people above started screaming and running away.

Thomas gulped. "Uh." He said. "Now hold on a minute—"

The pain of the music was suddenly replaced by an entirely different kind, as the world around him faded into monochrome and his now-sluggish body ached in protest.

Timestop? Immediately, after all this?

Daud, flexing his marked hand, gave a mildly confused look that Thomas could still move. Then brushed him off, and ran for the ladder.

"Spare them!" Thomas shouted after him, just before he punched open the trapdoor.

Meagan blinked, and it was over.

The trapdoor opened with a bang, and half a dozen people were suddenly on the floor unconscious.

Daud was stood on top of his old cell, mark blazing, eyes hard.

The absolutely fucking awesome only lasted a moment, before the old man gasped and stumbled backwards. Meagan was there immediately, supporting him with her one good arm.

"Daud?" She asked. "Are you alright?"

"Billie? What are you doing here?" He looked at her and oh, bugger, he was looking at her. Fifteen years, and she was finally meeting his gaze again.

"Billie?" Thomas said, dropping another now-unconscious gang member to the floor (the rest, by this point, had fled entirely). "Your name is Billie? Wait, hold on, I've read about a Billie connected to Daud…"

"We're here to save you." Meagan—Well. Suppose there's no more use in that moniker anymore—Billie told Daud, as he stood properly on his own.

"So I see." Daud looked over at Thomas. "The boy mentioned Emily Kaldwin. What does she want with me? I understood that I was to stay far, far away from her."

"They didn't give you any newspapers down there? The situation's changed." Thomas answered. "Emily's been deposed by some five-star bitch named Delilah. Ring any bells?"

Daud's eyes narrowed a fraction. "A few. And Emily wants my help fighting her?"

"Actually, she wants you because a god told her to get you. We can explain more on the way back." Thomas' footwork shifted, as he regarded the pair of them warily. "Before that, care to explain…this? I put odds at 80/20 that you knew each other, but why are you looking at him like he's your long-lost father, 'Meagan'?"

Heh. He's really ready to try and kill both of us. Billie reached out to the stump of her arm, smiling wryly. Suppose this had to happen sooner or later.

"My real name is Billie Lurk." She told Thomas. "Back in the day, I was one of Daud's Whalers. I…we split, just before Emily arrived to stop the operation."

He looked between them, chewing his lip. Then grunted. "Alright. Let's get back to the ship. Daud, since you're feeling so spritely, mind scouting ahead with your powers to check the path is clear?"

"You want me to waste more of my energy so I'm less of a threat." Daud observed.

"That's exactly what I want, yes. Go. Oh, and I know this might be implied already, but—" Thomas dropped one hand to his whip, his eyes as cold as granite. "If either of you hurt Emily, I will just fucking kill you. Clear?"

"Clear as glass." Daud replied. Then he was gone, vanishing with the small subsonic boom of a traversal power.

Thomas glared at the spot he'd left, before jerking his head to Billie, and stepping towards the exit.

"…You love her, don't you?" The thought flashed through Billie's head, and it took her a moment to realise she'd said it out loud.

Thomas paused, glanced back at her.

"Emily?" He checked.

"Mm."

"Yeah."

Billie tilted her head. "She know?"

"She'd have to be dumb not to." Thomas shrugged. "She's not dumb."

"But…she hasn't…"

"She'd rather fool around with whatever lord or lady catches her fancy. Right now it's Wyman, the Morleyan prick." He sighed. "Don't tell either of them I said that. Wyman's actually a great person, I like 'em, and Emily cares about 'em a lot."

"And you're okay with that?" Billie asked, surprised.

"What am I meant to do, storm off in a huff because she doesn't want to sleep with me?" Thomas gave a small smile. "Billie, before I met Emily I was a hopeless little scumbag living on Bottle Street. I had no money, no future, not much to call a family. And now (present events notwithstanding), I'm honorary nobility. I get a fancy uniform, I live in Dunwall tower, I travel the Isles."

"She gave you purpose." Billie recognised. "A reason to live. Before you were just surviving, but when you met her, it gave you hope that things might be better."

Thomas nodded. "I owe Emily my life. I'm hers, no matter what she wants from me."

"I understand." Billie said, and meant it.

"I know you do." Thomas replied, meeting her gaze. "Which is why I'm worried you'll turn on us the moment Daud asks you to."

He turned, and started walking again. Subdued, Billie followed.

I'm not sure if Thomas' confession here surprises anybody at all. Readers or characters. Remember he's been at Emily's side for over fifteen years now; that takes devotion. Or stubbornness. Or stupidity. But the world needs those three things, right? I wouldn't be uploading this without them.

The trick Emily pulls on Jindosh is something you can actually do in-game, and it's probably the funniest thing you can do in the Clockwork Mansion mission. Jindosh spouting all his crap followed by you opening the door in his face is so iconic I feel like it should be the canon way for Emily to deal with him.

But she's not out of the district yet.