Alex couldn't sleep. Literally, that is. He hadn't yet come up with an excuse for him and Angélique, now his wife, to sleep in separate beds. If he took advantage of the cold relationship that the real Edmond Dantes and she had shared, like prisoner and jailer, it would be easy. The abused woman would take any excuse he gave her to spend less time under the attention of her abuser. So that she wouldn't have to fear his judgment and punishment.

The problem was that he didn't want to lean into that. This whole exercise was about taking an opportunity to live his life, not following in the footsteps of others. Of a monster. He'd been called a monster more times than he could count, but Alex had never laid a hand on anyone in his family. Dana had been hurt because of him... But he'd done everything he could to stop that. At least he could be sure of that. So it was different.

When he was certain Angélique had really fallen asleep, Alex slid out of bed. There was no point in wasting time pretending to sleep through the night. He'd drive himself crazy with seven or eight hours of inactivity every damn night. No, that wasn't an option. He decided to take Edmond's wand, go out into the courtyard and practice a little with his magic, to see if he could learn to control it. Fix whatever it was he was doing wrong. Not that he needed it in a life or death situation. He believed he could fix any problem without revealing his identity.

Modifying his body, transforming arms into weapons. Without any of that his strength and speed were still superhuman. Except perhaps for the Elves, whose abilities seemed to be more myth than history, according to the memories of the two nobles he had eaten there should be no one who even stood a chance. He didn't need anything fancy to slaughter his enemies here.

But it would be cool to be able to do magic. It would be very cool. And it could be useful in other ways.

One of those damn kids had opened some portal to his world. He wanted a new chance, a new life. It was a very attractive proposition when in the other world he had only experienced confusion, pain and the horror of the truth. But... There was also Dana.

Mercer was beginning to think that maybe he didn't have to give up on Dana. She was as good as dead, in a deep sleep. But even if technology couldn't save her, magic could. And Dana would be happy here too. She would miss many things, but here Blackwatch couldn't hurt her. Maybe, if he could master magic, he could open a portal, bring her back, and then...

Then they would be a family again. Then they would be happy again.

That would mean that his disguise as Edmond would be temporary, but he had always been prepared for that. And he could think of nothing better. Crossing the empty, dark corridors, Alex Mercer grinned like a wild beast, although all he felt was happiness. Perhaps because he felt a familiar high, as if victory was within his grasp. The high of a predator catching its prey.

The world is small and full of ironies. Alex walked down the stairs of the lobby in time to see suspicious people enter. Bandits with masks and hoods. Classical bandits, typical of the kind of fantasy this world was. Swords, axes, armor. Before him it was as if they were naked, of course.

"Edmond Dantes himself." The presumed leader spoke. "At least you have saved us from having to find you. Don't bother calling the guards, they're all knocked out by a sleeping potion. You're on your own here."

Alex said nothing. He just held his gaze as if nothing was happening. Because nothing was really happening.

"Not a hint of fear? You show well the arrogance of the so-called nobles. Though you are but a Line mage, the most ordinary of the ordinary. Do you think you're so important? Answer me."

Alex felt a stab of irritation. What was left of Edmond Dantes screaming inside him, rebelling against the attack on his pride. The part of him that was Edmond Dantes. Fortunately, that part of him had to share space with many other monsters.

"I'm still above you. You should listen to your henchmen, who are trembling behind you. They are more aware of reality."

"It's funny you should say that."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

So. The bandit leader drew a wand. Oh, right. All nobles were mages, but not all mages were nobles. They could fall from grace, be cast out, and this was the result. Even when they fell into disgrace, they used their natural talents to try to take advantage of others and crush them. So in the end nothing changed.

His target was another noble this time, of course, but he doubted he had any scruples when it came to stealing from commoners.

Alex didn't even hear the incantation, irritated with himself for not having considered that as an explanation for his strange confidence. A large stone spear manifested itself in front of him and flew out to tear off his head. He supposed the bandit didn't care. Stealing from a nobleman would earn him the same reward as stealing from one, so it was better to remove him.

The stone spear went through the window behind him and disappeared into the night. Alex remained impassive, his ears ringing with the rain of broken glass.

"Did he dodge it or did he miss?"

"How could he miss an unmoving target? He dodged it. Of course he dodged it."

"But I didn't even see him move. He didn't draw his wand, he didn't chant..."

The fear increased when the frightened bandit stated the obvious. The sheep would eventually lose control of themselves without Alex lifting a finger, at this rate. The truth was the second option, of course. Alex had dodged, why would he let himself be hit? But without moving from the spot. The slightest movement, the minimum necessary, and it had been more than enough.

"Turn and run," Alex said. "I have no patience for this nonsense in the middle of the night. If you listen to the voice of reason, I will spare your lives."

"Afraid, huh?"

Alex rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

There were no witnesses, but still... Alex didn't transform. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out Edmond's wand.

Maybe what he needed to master magic was a good reason. A sense of danger, even if it was false, since he could stop fooling around and employ his true talents at any moment.

"Quiet, I'll take care of him."

Who was the arrogant one now? Waving his wand and spitting an incantation from Edmond's memories, Alex felt like a supreme moron. Like a nerd dressed up in one of his mother's robes and a stick he found in the woods. It was a horribly inefficient system and that bothered him on many levels. He was thousands of soldiers and thousands of scientists, after all. If there was one thing they had in common, it was a taste for efficiency. It was the most logical thing in the world. The greatest result with the least effort. What was so bad about that?

So yes, he found it irritating. If he was facing, say, an army of a thousand mages, he could wipe out fifty before they managed to finish the incantation for a decent spell. Magic simply took too long. When the commoners developed guns, the nobles of this world would be even more screwed than in his, because at least they had fought on equal terms. What was all this magical nonsense compared to aiming and firing?

Almost a minute for the strongest spells, when even the basic, disposable flintlock pistols could be fired six or seven times in a few seconds with a belt.

Yes, they would be hopelessly screwed.

Alex knew how to make them, of course, he had eaten more than one engineer, but—

He dodged the attack, leaping to the top floor, landing on the railing, graceful as a cat. The attack in question was more stone spears. The bandit leader wasn't tremendously imaginative. Alex finished launching his own attack after landing.

A water hammer that flew far and fast, but fell apart halfway. It didn't even come close to hitting the enemy. Once again he had failed. He understood what to do, the words, the sensations involved, but he couldn't do it! For some reason, his attempts at magic were always worth shit. Alex clicked his tongue.

He supposed that at worst he could force another mage to do what he wanted. Open a portal, seek out his world, and then get rid of the evidence. But that would complicate things, although the chances of carrying out his initial plan didn't seem very high right now.

"That's it?" Another guy laughed, "What a failure as a nobleman. What a bad joke."

He was a guy missing a hand. It took Alex longer than he would admit associating him with the man he had recently punished. In his defense, cutting off a thief's hand was an exceptionally common punishment in the era this world seemed to be in. Besides, he hadn't been paying much attention. It had been a momentary diversion, nothing more.

As the leader began to recite another incantation, Alex seized the opportunity.

"Knock knock."

"What?" Maybe it was surprise, confusion, and the tension of the moment. Maybe they didn't have those kinds of jokes in this world, in Halkeginia.

"No one, sorry. You won't be able to knock on any doors when I cut off your other hand."

It wasn't literally true, but it didn't have to be.

"Bastard!"

Alex nodded.

"I'm a bastard, I'm a monster. I'm a lot of things. Right now I'm just a very bored guy. I've had enough of you guys."

Magic hadn't worked and he had no reason to believe that trying it again would do the trick right now. The time had come to unmask himself. Could they see his face squirming in the darkness barely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the windows? It wasn't a risk. In any case, he could get rid of all the witnesses without any doubt. They had even done him the favor of putting the soldiers to sleep, the reinforcements that could interfere in this...

Yes, the time has come, he thought.

The tension was about to explode. But none of them could have imagined the real explosion.

"Go back to bed, honey. It's late. I'm just... I'm just looking for your father."

Alex Mercer felt his heart in his throat, in a even more metaphorical sense than usual, since he didn't have a heart. At least, not a physical one. The bandits had put the staff, the guards, to sleep. But his wife, his daughter...

Dana, he thought, feeling like throwing up. Dana. That wasn't her name, but he couldn't remember her name now, and he didn't care.

The bandit abandoned his efforts to attack him. He propelled himself, making a platform of earth appear under his feet, which acted as a trampoline. How fast. How had he done that...? No, he hadn't started reciting a different spell or something. He had taken advantage of the half-finished spell, transforming it from an attack to something to help him move.

In the direction of the voice. Dana. Dana.

The monster of Manhattan shot out. His arms twisting, lengthening. Transforming into very organic, wet, throbbing blades.

There were screams. Boots hitting the ground, running in the opposite direction. They had seen him. They were running away. He didn't care.

He only cared about one thing. Soon, very soon, these arm blades would be dripping with the blood of the Enemy.

Alex Mercer, Hardworking Husband, Part 3: END