The bartender kept going: Still, I couldn't betray the principles of the order I dedicated my whole life to. My heart and mind were tied to it. Oh yeah, I'd heard of it. Even studied it a bit on my downtime. A mishmash of occult-mystical woo with military flavor and just a hint of politics. Like the bastard child of the Kabbalah, Castaneda's Warrior's Way, and a samurai code—all under the flashy name The Yucatan Stride. What the hell did some half-baked Capper sect have to do with a peninsula in Central America? No clue.
And when I learned that a brutal lamia had claimed a dozen lives—kids included—and that not even Dued could stop her, I ran into the Obscurity to hunt her down. I felt unstoppable, fueled by the thought of avenging those three little ones she ripped apart.- Oh, I remembered. Yeah, that horror story made the rounds in our ever- suffering But that was, what, thirty years ago? I casually dropped that little truth bomb into Phoenix's tale and watched him lose the ground under his feet. Not literally. But close. Three decades…? - He muttered in shock, staring at his hands and then at me. His eyes were full of dread. -I swear, it hasn't been that long! I walked the empty streets of the Obscurity, found this bar, saw everyone inside just sitting there, and I thought... why not go in?- They've been sitting here the whole time I've been here,- he added, nodding toward the bizarre clientele. So, I walked up to the counter and rang the bell. No one answered. No bartender. So I hopped over the bar and poured myself a That's when the door burst open—and someone tossed in the lamia's severed head.
Rolled right across the floor. I picked it up and stuffed it in the fridge. Still got it. Planning to mount it on the wall one day. A field trophy, even if it wasn't my kill.
You sure it was that lamia? I saw her commit the crime—but she leapt over the wall before I could engage,- he said, refilling my glass without missing a beat. The bourbon slid into my stomach like liquid gold. Damn good stuff. Where the hell did he get it? There was no way it came through a normal supply chain. So, did you ever figure out who saved you the trouble? Nope, - he shook his - I ran out to thank whoever it was, but the street was empty. I figured I'd go back to the City—mission complete. And what stopped you? - I sipped again, eyebrow Then looked down in surprise as he pushed a fruit salad across the counter. Real citrus
slices. Oranges, apples, pears. I even scanned it. No poison. Just actual food.
There was an army Past the end of the lamplight,- he said grimly. -You know the lamps hold Them back, right?- I nodded and added: But apparently, not all of Now that, I don't know, - Phoenix said with a shrug. -Maybe the light lets them through because they're... peaceful? Frankie, for instance, loves playing chess, but he needs a new board for each game, — he gestured toward the Inkblot — -because after every match, he loses interest unless the battlefield's fresh. Miri, Tao-Si, and Fernando sometimes crave fresh fish, — now he pointed to the bar stools. Yeah. The stools. Stop, Just stop. How long do you really think you've been here? I'd say… three months? Three months, and you've already hit the point of no return. You're naming the monsters and talking about mounting a severed lamia head on the wall like it's rustic decor.
The dark-skinned bartender looked sheepish.
Maybe you're right. Loneliness creates strange thoughts and visions… though, now, I'm not alone — And the way he looked at me just then? Sent shivers and cockroaches down my spine. That gaze was too intense. Too... deep. Where do you even get all this stuff — the food, the booze?- — I coughed lightly, pivoting the topic as smoothly as I Lucky for me, he took the bait. From the kitchens and the back storage. It all appears as soon as I think of something I—or a customer—might need. Not much business to run, so mostly I reflect, play video games—- he nodded toward the arcade machine beside the jukebox, -—and do calisthenics and other workouts.-
.. — I drawled, watching him carefully. But no, he wasn't lying. Phoenix had no idea who I was, which meant he disappeared long before the cops ever announced me as their senior consultant to the City.