The description on the phone's screen glowed with a light that seemed impossibly bright in the dim, fortified sanctuary of Kevin's apartment. Talisman of Obfuscation. A one-hour cloak of invisibility, effective against both magical and mundane tracking. It wasn't a weapon. It wasn't a shield. It was a key. A ghost key that could open any door, let us walk any street, and render us completely unseen. It was the perfect tool for a pair of hunters who had just become the hunted.
"A full-spectrum signature scramble," Kevin read over my shoulder, his voice a low, reverent whisper. "Alex, do you have any idea what this is? My grandfather spent twenty years trying to perfect a ritual that could do this for five minutes, and it required a week of fasting and a list of components I wouldn't even know where to find. Your app is selling it like it's a power-up in a video game." He shook his head, a look of profound disbelief on his face. "This Eternity, Inc… they're not just powerful. They're operating on a level I don't think our side of the world even has a vocabulary for yet."
His awe did little to soothe the knot in my stomach. The price was listed next to the description: 20 MP. I had twenty-five points in my account, earned through a combination of being used as monster bait and performing a spiritual cleanup. This single-use key would cost me almost everything I had. It would leave me with a paltry five points, my account nearly empty, with no safety net if another mandatory, high-stakes assignment suddenly appeared.
It was a massive gamble. One hour of invisibility in exchange for almost all of my hard-won supernatural capital.
I felt Jessica's reaction to the talisman. It was a surge of pure, unadulterated desire. She saw it for what it was: a weapon of infiltration, a perfect tool for her vengeance. Her longing was a powerful current, pulling me toward the Purchase button. My own fear, the memory of the scratching at my door, pushed me in the same direction. Hiding in Kevin's apartment was staving off the inevitable. This talisman was a chance to end the threat, not just evade it.
"We have to," I said, my voice firm. "It's the only way. We can't wait for Finch's pet sorcerer to wear down your defenses. We have to take the fight to him."
Kevin nodded, his expression grim. "I agree. It's a huge risk, but our only other option is to wait to die. Buy it."
My thumb hovered over the button. I took a deep breath and tapped Confirm Purchase. The twenty points vanished from my balance. The screen flashed with a confirmation message.
[Talisman of Obfuscation (Single Use) has been acquired. The charge is now stored in your neural inventory. To activate, establish clear intent and a verbal command: "Go dark." The one-hour countdown will begin immediately upon activation.]
No physical object appeared in my hand. The talisman wasn't something I could hold; it was a piece of software that had just been downloaded directly into my soul. The idea was as violating as it was useful. I now had a magical self-destruct button in my head, with a one-hour timer.
The acquisition of the ghost key changed the energy in the room. The defensive, besieged atmosphere was replaced by the tense, focused hum of an impending offensive operation. We were no longer just hiding. We had a plan.
"Okay," Kevin said, switching into full strategist mode. "We have a key that opens any door for one hour. The question is, which door do we open?"
We spent the next hour debating our target, our voices low and urgent. The options were limited and all of them were terrible.
"We could go back to Innovate Solutions," I suggested. "To his office. Plant the USB drive on his work computer. Frame him."
Kevin immediately shook his head. "Too risky. A corporate office is a controlled environment. Key cards, security cameras on every floor, IT departments that monitor network activity. Our invisibility might fool a security guard's eyes, but it might not fool a server log if we try to access their system. And what if he's not there? We could waste our entire hour just getting to his desk."
"What about his home?" I offered. The idea felt even more transgressive, more dangerous.
A spike of cold, focused hatred from Jessica answered me. Yes. The feeling was so sharp and clear it was like she had spoken the word aloud. Her deepest rage was reserved for the man himself, not the building where he worked. The home was where the monster let its guard down.
Kevin seemed to feel the shift in my aura. He looked at me, then nodded slowly. "His home. It's a higher risk, but a higher reward. His personal computer, his personal files… that's where the real dirt would be. People are sloppier at home."
The plan began to take shape. It was insane. A full-on breaking-and-entering mission, targeting the home of a wealthy corporate executive who had already killed once and had a sorcerer on his payroll. But it was the only plan we had.
The rest of the night was dedicated to reconnaissance. We couldn't leave the apartment, but we had the internet. Kevin, with a surprising proficiency for digital digging, found Harold Finch's home address in a matter of minutes through a public records database of property owners. He lived in a luxury condo building in the Gold Coast, one of those gleaming glass towers that looked down on the rest of the city.
We found the building's website, studying floor plans and promotional photos. We used Google Street View to analyze the entrance, the garage, the surrounding streets. Kevin pointed out security camera blind spots and potential access points with the practiced eye of a man who had done this before.
As he worked, I saw a side of him I hadn't seen. He wasn't just a monster hunter who knew ancient rituals. He was a tactician. He understood security, infiltration, and the art of staying unseen in the modern world. His family hadn't just taught him how to fight ghosts; they had taught him how to be a spy.
While Kevin prepared the practical side of our mission—laying out a small kit containing lockpicks, a tiny digital camera, and a device for cloning electronic key cards—I was tasked with preparing the supernatural side.
"You're the engine for this talisman," he told me. "It's tied to you. Your focus has to be absolute. For that one hour, you can't let Jessica's anger or your own fear overwhelm you. You need to be a calm, quiet void. Practice your shielding. We only get one shot at this. We can't waste a second."
I spent the next few hours in a deep meditative state, trying to build the mental walls he'd described. I pictured my consciousness as a smooth, featureless sphere of polished steel. I felt Jessica's rage, her impatience, her grief, but I held them at a distance, observing them as they washed against my shield, not allowing them to breach it. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done.
By dawn, we were ready. The plan was set. We would get as close to Finch's building as possible. I would activate the talisman. In that hour of complete invisibility, we would bypass security, enter his apartment, access his computer, and plant the contents of the USB drive in a place where he couldn't deny it and from where Sarah Jenkins could be tipped off to find it.
We stood by the door of Kevin's apartment, the first rays of morning light filtering through the window. The city was waking up, but our day was just beginning. The exhaustion was a physical weight on my shoulders, but beneath it, a new, cold determination was setting in.
Kevin handed me a small, discreet earpiece. "For communication. The talisman might not block sound," he said.
I put it in. He looked at me, his eyes serious. "Ready?"
I thought of the scratching at my door. I thought of Jessica's stolen life. I thought of the countdown timer on the black phone that was still, always, ticking away.
"No," I said honestly. "But let's do it anyway."
Kevin allowed himself a rare, grim smile. He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder.
The siege was over. It was time to become the ghosts.