Even after the scene fades completely, James can still feel the confusion and fear in the lieutenant’s final moments. A cold, fading, phantom miasma of copper and ozone and—
“This… this is wrong, Hank.”
Hank crosses his arms.
“How so, James? You’ve never shied away from killing. On the contrary, as a Taciturn, I’d say you’ve gone about it rather aggressively. Making it your mission to end the lives of others, with extreme fervor.”
James’ voice wavers, “That’s different. I fought slavers. Monsters…”
Hank regards Matilda, suspended in her murderous rush.
“Hmmm… is that so?”
James’ hand starts flexing as the pressure in his head builds. He can see the SMG on the floor beside him and briefly, vividly envisions the quickest solution to his current problem. He pushes the thought away but loses a rook in his distraction. Somewhere in Babylon, a Corporation refueling station explodes, taking its nightwatchman with it. With the loss of his knight, two Company guards are gunned down in their patrol cruiser.
Hank groans with dissatisfaction.
“You’re proving to be an inept opponent, James. You used to give me some semblance of a challenge.” Hank scans the board. “Aside from racking up quite the body count in Babylon, your strategy is lacking.”
James curses. Hank gets a good chuckle out of it.
“Take your time, Taciturn. No chess-clock here. No sense in rushing it.”
James glares at the man across from him.
“These are people’s lives.”
Hank’s voice is cold and direct, his gaze fixed, reptilian.
“Lives of people who work for villains. I don’t understand, James. You had no problem killing that guard in Babylon. Or was that easier because she did it?”
The king steps closer to the Scry, examining her.
Shadows seem to pool on the ruler’s face, his expression becoming dark, unreadable. “Are you willing to sacrifice these people for the greater good? Or is it more honorable when you’re pulling the trigger? Stop kidding yourself, James, and play the goddamn game.”
Concentrating on the board, Taciturn shuts out the images on the pieces. A few moves later, the white knight falls and an Enclave enforcer dies in a firefight. James sacrifices a pawn but takes down Hank’s queen a turn later. While a low-level security guard is beaten to death in Babylon, Simmons’ Chief of Security is strangled in her sleep in Metropolis.
Hank grins in dark glee at the shifting balance.
“Hmpf – I guess there’s a bit of the old you still in there.”
More pieces fall, as do bodies throughout the Cyberside. The board, now swept clean of all but the last few combatants, leaves both players with limited strategies. With Hank having failed to reckon with James’ remaining knight, an opening for checkmate presents itself. James moves the knight, fighting the urge to smile.
Hank reviews the board in silence, pacing – looking from his pieces, back to James’ knight, and back again. Confident now in his decision, James allows himself a grin. It quickly fades, however, when Hank pauses and smirks. He makes his next move, repositioning a rook to be senselessly sacrificed – delaying James’ victory by one turn.
Hank shrugs indifferently. “Your turn.”
Exasperated, James groans, fixing the Platform King with a cold stare. “You’re really going to make me take another piece? Just concede the game, already!”
The ruler of the Spire stares back at him, silently.
Infuriated, James growls, “Whatever, fuck you. I won.”
James captures Hank’s rook and a fresh flood of images deluges his mind. As an Enclave worker pulls into her driveway, a van turns its lights on down the street. A young girl races out the front door; a van accelerates down the road. Their loving embrace is cut short by gun fire. While the van speeds away, the girl kneels in shock and horror as the blood of her parents flows into the gutter.
The images fade, and James collapses to the floor in anguish.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Shaking his head in his imperious robes, Hank stares down at him.
“For Christ’s sake, you nuked everyone in Neverland without blinking an eye – but now one child’s life is ruined, and you break down? What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t be dumb enough to think you can win without consequences.”
Hank moves to the immobilized Matilda.
“Your decisions, however slight, can have far-reaching effects. Effects you might never know. If you succeed at what you’re planning, will the body count be worth it?”
Hank slowly circles Matilda.
“A deal is a deal. And to be honest, I’m somewhat relieved. When you’ve done this for so long…”
Having completed his pass around Matilda, Hank stops in front of her.
“I wish you luck on your adventure, James. Part of me hopes you’ll make it, but that really depends on what you’ve learned here.”
The king takes his eyes off the Scry and looks over at the Taciturn.
“I’m not an unsportsmanlike loser, and I don’t expect you to walk all the way down.” While James pushes himself to his feet, a portal manifests in the throne room. “Also, don’t let it be said I’m not a man of my word.”
The King spins the golden band in his hand. “Here, give it to the girl.” Hanks tosses the band to James and repositions himself in front of Matilda.
James starts crossing the board towards the Scry and the king.
“Hank, this doesn’t have to end like this.”
Hank examines Matilda’s eyes and finally blinks his own.
“The game can’t end until you take the king.” Hank turns his attention back to his old friend and offers a weak smile. “Give it to the girl. Just… just remind her that it’s heavy.”
The barrier holding Matilda disappears, and she continues her lunge forward. The Scry’s knives sink into Hank’s chest, causing him to tumble backwards and slam to the floor.
Matilda stands over the king’s still-smiling face. Two of her blades are buried to the hilt, a centimeter apart, in the rapidly-reddening spot on his chest. Matilda pulls out two more of her blades and moves closer.
Hank’s bloodied, pained, choked, wheezing attempt at a smile stops her.
“Better… hurry, love. Without a king, there’s no realm… and since you’re not sticking around…”
The walls and ceiling of the palace begin to shudder and buckle. Outside the throne room, the statues flanking the sweeping staircase can be heard tumbling down the stone steps and shattering.
Matilda turns to regard James and the floor-spanning chess board.
“Wait, what?”
James motions towards the wavering portal.
“Come on. We need to go.”
Matilda spots the band in James’ hand.
“So, you got…?”
The Taciturn looks at the body of Hank, now motionless.
“I got it.”
Together they jump through the portal as the castle falls to ruin.
Chapter 17: “New Jersey”
James and Matilda hit the cold, hard ground as the portal collapses behind them. The back-channel transportation line Hank sent them through has instantly transported them miles away from the Spire. James rolls down his sleeves and realizes he’s left his coat and SMG in Hank’s palace. Picking up his bag, James evaluates the surrounding forest. He needs time to process the chess game, but there’s an immediate problem that needs solving first.
“We need to figure out where we are.”
Without his jacket, James is acutely aware of the abrupt change in weather. The sky is thick with grey clouds and the sporadic booming of distant, rolling thunder. There is no trace of the sun, and a static energy clings to the air. Even from this distance, he can still see the hazy image of the Spire commanding the horizon, its summit lost in a dark lightning storm.