Nikon adjusted the mask over his face, noting how it had begun to obtain a sweaty leather odor that was rather unpleasant.
"Wish I had chosen the plague doctor mask," murmured the doctor, leaning against the railing of the small apartment they were housed in. "Could've loaded the beak with spices and other things to block out the smell."
He flicked a bug off the railing, reminiscing once again about the meeting he had with his other self. Assuming it actually was him from some different realm of reality and not some Outsider shenanigans, the thought of a genuine version of himself acting in such a way was…distressing.
"Killing people is one thing, but…" whispered Nikon. "…he really wouldn't lay down his life for Diana? I don't believe that."
His thoughts turned to Diana, his hands gripping the railing tighter. Kallisar's scout had reported they had seen her taken into Kalin's guard barracks under distress, and apparently, she had been heavily bruised and ragged from what they could see. The thought of someone injuring his assistant, let alone for reasons that pertained to him, was distressing indeed.
He looked out to the guard barracks, several blocks away straight down the street. "Diana…just hold on. I'm on the way."
Nikon turned back into the living room, other various men standing around a meeting table. He recognized Irving, wearing a boar's mask complete with tusks, but the rest were unknown to him. They all wore animal masks to conceal their identities, and each carried a satchel of explosives.
"Alright doctor, are you ready?" asked Irving. "You go in, get the girls, and blow the signal. We come in, blow the place up. Sound good?"
"Laconic, but accurate," replied the doctor. He studied the map, noting the various patrol routes and security systems the others had made notes of. The guards seemed to rotate shifts every two hours or so, and the patrols rarely varied. The front courtyard had only one entrance covered with a Wall of Light, and in case of an emergency signal, several Arc Pylons placed along the sides of the building would withdraw from the walls.
"Now, this woman you want to be dispose of…" murmured Nikon.
Irving glanced at him slightly exasperated. "Doctor, we've been over this. Anna Morozov, captain of the guard, must die. There's nothing that can be done about that."
"No, no, I cannot accept that. I will not kill for simple convenience. There must be another way."
He paused, noticing a small mark someone had made on a street a few blocks away. He pointed to it. "This house there…that is her residence?"
"Yeah, but she usually sleeps in the barracks," explained Irving. "Someone else lives there. A woman. Sasha, I think her name was. Ordinary woman, works at a bakery. They're probably friends or something."
Nikon raised an eyebrow, immediately guessing why Sasha lived with Anna but not vocalizing it. "…I think I'll pay Ms. Sasha a visit. I have a plan to get rid of Anna that doesn't involve killing her, but it's a bit technical."
Irving crossed his arms over his chest. "Explain. I might accommodate."
Nikon combed his hair, hoping he didn't smell too bad and looked professional enough. This act was going to be difficult to pull off.
He rang the doorbell and put on his best smile.
A few seconds later, a woman answered the door, head tilted in curiosity. "Good evening…?"
Nikon gave a small bow, his brown suit not technically his size. "Dobryy vecher (good evening), Madam Sasha. I am a private physician to Secretary Kalin. Is this the address of Captain Anna Morozov?"
"Yes it is…you said physician…did something happen to Anna?"
"May I come in?" asked Nikon trying to change the subject. "I am quite cold."
"Oh, certainly, certainly. Please, into the sitting room."
Nikon studied the house as he sat down, noting how it was well-furnished but quant. He saw a painting of Anna and Sasha underneath a tree, both of them smiling, and knew his guess had been correct. They were indeed romantic partners, keeping it lowkey due to the social stigma against homosexuals.
"Would you like a drink?" asked Sasha politely, though it was clear she was becoming anxious.
"No, no, I'm fine," assured Nikon gently. "Please, sit. This news is very important."
Sasha did so, a bead of sweat gathering on her forehead. "It's not bad news, is it? Please tell me Anna is alright. I…well, it would trouble me if she was not. We're friends you see."
Nikon nodded sympathetically. "Yes, I understand. Do not be alarmed. Anna is alive and well, though the status of such a thing will fluctuate."
Sasha paled slightly. "What do you mean? Is she ill? Injured? Please, tell me!"
She calmed herself, gathering up her dignity. "My apologies. I shouldn't shout. I know you are just a messenger."
Nikon gave a smile. He liked Sasha. She was polite, caring, and pretty. It was a shame what he was about to do.
"Thank you for your understanding. Rest assured, Anna's condition is one that can be controlled. Specifically, by you."
"Me? I fail to see what you mean, doctor."
Nikon reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing something that made all the blood leave Sasha's face and caused her to tighten her entire body.
"Nice mask, right?" asked the doctor holding his gas mask, grinning widely like a psychopath. "I joined a short while ago, so I got the new and improved mask. I like it. Take good care of it."
"I'm calling the guard," snapped Sasha, though she did not move, absolutely frozen with terror. That mask was identical to those worn by Gristol Whalers, the assassin cult that had publicly been disbanded, but no one believed it.
"That would be inadvisable, Ms. Sasha," reminded Nikon putting the mask away. "Please, do not make me do something I will regret. You see, I'm probably the worst assassin in my organization. Really dislike the practice of killing, truth be told. But I did get a contract, so I have to fulfill it somehow."
He grinned again. "So, this is where you come in. I know of your relationship with Ms. Morozov very well. You're not just roommates or friends, are you?"
Sasha said nothing, gulping and sweating.
"Your partners, are you not? Do you love Ms. Morozov? Do you kiss her? Do you fuck her? Tell me you do, or this plan isn't going to work."
"…yes."
Nikon clapped his hands once. "Splendid! Then I have an exclusive offer just for you two! A one-way trip to the isle of Morley! You both leave this evening from Tyvia and never look back, and my contract will, for all intents and purposes, be fulfilled! And you two get to live, and live indeed, I should say! Morley is wonderful this time of year, and I hear that the isle has amazing drink and food! A win-win, wouldn't you say?"
"…has Anna agreed to this plan?"
Nikon tut-tutted with his finger, as if scolding a child. "Now Ms. Sasha, do not ask foolish questions. I'm sure you know damn well Ms. Morozov would not agree to such a thing if you did not. Of course, she has not. That's why I want you to agree first."
Sasha processed that for a moment. "…I'm a hostage. You're going to use me as leverage to make Anna leave."
The doctor chuckled, genuinely impressed. "Very astute of you, Ms. Sasha! Are you sure you are just a humble baker? I have met noblemen with less sense than you possess! Yes, that is what I am going to do."
He put his mask on before withdrawing one of the blightpowder grenades Kallisar had given him, examining it. "Truth be told, I could've just abducted you, told Ms. Morozov you agreed, then had you shipped out, but I prefer not to cause too much distress. I'm a kinder man than that."
Sasha looked at the grenade, and realized he was completely right. If this man was a trained killer like he said he was, the task would've been easy for him to accomplish.
"…Wynnedown."
"Hmm? I'm sorry, I don't comprehend."
"Wynnedown, the capital of Morley. I want to go there with Anna. Promise me that, and I will agree."
Nikon made a 'whatever you want' sort of gesture. "Of course, Ms. Sasha. Now, I obviously can't take your word on that, so please do your best not to panic when I do this."
He opened the blightpowder grenade.
Immediately the room filled with white gas, Sasha standing up and inhaling a throatful. She grasped at her throat and tried to run, but Nikon was on her. He grabbed her nose and pinched it shut, smacking her hard in the stomach to make her inhale more of the gas. In four seconds, she was motionless.
"My apologies, Ms. Sasha," whispered Nikon gently, wishing he hadn't have been so harsh to her. "But believe me, this is a kinder fate than being left a widow."
He glanced at her person for any identifying characteristics, before noticing a small gold ring on her right ring finger. He removed it, studying it. On the back was inscribed a small message.
To my love. A. M.
Nikon grinned. That would do just fine.
"Well, let's hope Ms. Morozov will see reason."
He stopped, hearing something. It sounded like whispering, so quiet he could barely detect it, but it was unmistakable. He looked around, trying to see if some interloper had snuck up on him.
Then he recognized it. It was the same whispering noise he heard in the Void, like background static over an electronic broadcast.
"…why am I hearing that here?"
He stood up, looking around the house. The noise fluctuated in volume as he moved, before finally it became loud enough to become almost unbearable. He was standing in front of a set of drawers in a desk, and it seemed to be coming from the top drawer.
Nikon opened the drawer, revealing a variety of various office supplies, but also something rather peculiar. It was a wrapped package about the size of a dessert plate, and it appeared to be circular as well. It was wrapped in old parchment, and seemed to shake in the desk, though not physically. As he looked at it, his vision of the object became harder and harder to concentrate on, seemingly vibrating solely in his field of vision.
"Now that is very odd."
He picked it up, unwrapping the parchment. Only then did he understand exactly why it acted so peculiarly.
It was whalebone, carved roughly in a circular shape, and had a black symbol on it that looked burnt into the surface. It was the Mark of the Outsider, and he could feel immense power within the small artifact.
Then he looked up, and realized he was in the Void.
"…well shit, artifacts like this exist in the real world," murmured Nikon.
"Yes," answered the Outsider, walking out from a floating chunk of the wall next to the doctor. "These runes, carved by my followers, are common artifacts for most people. They believe it gives them good luck. As you are probably aware, the opposite is usually true."
"Considering what is happened to Ms. Sasha, I'd consider it good luck."
"Ah, yes, the affair with you and Ms. Sasha. Very interesting. Why do you concern yourself with keeping your hands clean, doctor?"
"You sound like that gas mask version of me. By the way, very poor taste what you did there."
The Outsider raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying it was an illusion by me? It was not. That is really you, in a different place."
Nikon sighed, rubbing his eyes. "…gods…what does that even me? I don't even think the philosophers have talked about something like this. Is it some…different reality?"
"That is an accurate description, though I fear the actual truth is much harder to visualize. Regardless, I am curious about how different you are."
"Why?" asked Nikon desperately. "Why are we different? What made him the way he is?"
The Outsider shrugged. "Any number of things. You share many common events, and to explain the tiny differences would be astronomically tedious."
He sat down on half of the desk that remained, placing his elbows on his knees. "Now, answer my original question. Why do you dislike killing so much? Consider it a philosophical question."
"…I cannot stomach it. Every human being, fundamentally, is capable of reason and understanding, and each human being has intrinsic value presently or in the future. Killing them removes this value from both local society and that of the world, and that value cannot be returned."
"That philosophy is interesting, but childish," argued the Outsider. "I tell you now doctor, I can count on both hands how many humans have had a large enough influence to even make an impact past a millennium. If you ask for a century, it expands to about several dozen. Most people are akin to sheep in a herd, insignificant."
"Is a brick at the top of the building superior to those that form the base?" asked Nikon. "Perhaps your vision is narrow in scope, Outsider. Perhaps someone like Anton Sokolov is easily this age's magnum opus, but what of his family, his friends, his acquaintances? Surely, they influenced him, made him the magnificent man he would become, but they will be forgotten. Their names will not be spoken with awe, but their marks on him remain regardless. That is what I mean when I saw humans have value, often in ways so small you can hardly see them."
"…I did not consider that," admitted the Outsider. "That is…a very interesting point of view. While I ponder a rebuttal though, I come bearing gifts. First, one that will help you find more of my marks to aid you."
He twirled his hand and suddenly the rune in Nikon's hand transformed, growing pink flesh and gaining mass rapidly.
Nikon stared in horror as the object became like a sphere, rapidly pulsating with some profane rhythm. Metal pipes and other bits spewed from it and wrapped back around in arcane patterns, forming like veins across it, and that made him realize what he was holding.
"It's…a heart," whispered the doctor revolted. He could not let it go though, his hand refusing to drop the object in disgust.
"Yes, one of…let's say someone important to you," stated the Outsider. "It will let you hear the whispers of my marks, and make it easier to find them so I may give you new gifts. The second gift, however, is for every other whisper."
He snapped his fingers, and Nikon groaned as his head filled with noise. He heard scratching noises and footsteps, and conversations that sounded so distant he could scarce determine the voices. It overwhelmed his mind, until finally coming into focus.
"It is called Eavesdrop," explained the Outsider. "It will allow you hear things distant from you, as well as through objects. You will find it useful in the road ahead."
Nikon looked back at the heart, before giving it a squeeze. It beat back, pumping no blood through its metal veins.
"It's so cold here," came a voice as if from his own mind, so small he barely heard it. The voice sounded similar to himself, but older, and resembled a certain watchmaker from 451 Red Crow Street.
"Oh gods," whispered Nikon covering his mouth. "Is it…him?"
He looked up, but the Outsider had left, leaving him alone in Ms. Sasha's house. He looked back at the heart in his hands, noting how it held no weight in this world, as if it did not even exist, but he knew it existed. He remembered hearing it beat before, hearing it stop on a fateful night where he killed a man for thirty-seven coins.
"…gods above…I'm so sorry," murmured the doctor mournfully. "I…I never meant…"
He gulped hard. Apologizing to the deceased was pointless. He had to maintain focus and vigilance. Diana's life, as well as that of one of his saviors, was in his hands.
He tucked the heart away, waving his hand experimentally. He found he could turn off Eavesdrop, as the Outsider had labeled it, with a flick of his fingers, and decided to keep it off for now. The flood of information was disorienting, and hardly beneficial.
"Well, I suppose it's time to get to work," he whispered, closing his eyes, already visualizing his next steps.