[Loop Count: 18]
[Déjà vu System: Level 13]
[Civic Omni-Gear System: Level 16]
I woke up on the metallic bench in my holding cell.
Looked like Chronos extended our agreement further than I expected.
I was killed by the Obsidian Crow again. In the unmistakable streets of Orlinth.
Considering I only shifted focus from Skyhaven to Orlinth on loop 16, that meant he killed me on one of the last two loops.
Originally, I thought my agreement with Chronos regarding the Crow only covered the recollection of our previous meetings – so I’d be better prepared for the inevitable next encounter. But…it seems that in Chronos’ eyes, the agreement included future memories as well.
And now, I could remember – very vividly – how the Obsidian Crow hurled an entire wall at me and crushed me to death.
Maybe Chronos had done that because 'Outlast' activated again. I mean, I’d rather meet him and Pixelle, and bitch about how my COG was still tainted with Dolos' interferences, but sure…I guess it's something.
The only good thing? I couldn’t feel those memories. Not yet. The pain was dull, distant. Like watching a picture of something horrible happening to someone else - it can be gut-twisting, but it can’t actually hurt you.
That likely wouldn’t last. After this was all over, I’d probably need ten more years of therapy with Dr. Aresa.
I sighed and turned to my Inventory.
Let’s see what I’m working with:
[Inventory]
- Tantalum – 14.19kg
- Iron – 284.73kg
- Copper – 53.06kg
- Titanium – 4.08kg
- Beryllium – 7.34kg
- Time Plane Memory #4
- Time Plane Memory #5
- Time Plane Memory #6
- Time Plane Memory #7
- Dematerializer
- 5 Steamcrowns
- Ignis x4
- Aero x2
- Cryora
- Lumen x2
- Armor-Piercer x2
- Armor-Piercer Magazine x2
- Ironwatch Foldable Sword
- Ironwatch Handgun x3
- Red Ribbon
- Civic Omni-Gear: Thea Stanford, ID: 150890
- Brass Medal
- Family Picture
- Key Item: ZK-0, Aetherprint: SKO-03543
- Key Item: Civic Omni-Gear: Viktor Halegrim, ID: 260604
***
I watched the four Memory Fragments and learned about my family’s involvement with Valdemar.
Was surprised to find my own COG inside the Inventory.
Remembered a dog-shaped automaton helping me against the Crow and realized it was the ZK-0 in my Inventory.
The Brass Medal directed me to Mother’s old guild – Blackthorn.
One of my cellmates was released fifteen minutes after Devin came gloating.
I was released at noon, stumbling on a confused Enforcer who couldn't find my COG anywhere in the station's confiscated possessions.
***
So, 'Key Item' meant it was a singular item throughout all loops. Good to know. It meant that I couldn't duplicate these items.
Only one COG. Only one Zee.
I spent 75 Steambits on a Day Pass for the tram and took the northbound SJ-line. Along the way, I received a message from an unknown sender.
The person didn’t introduce themselves. Instead, the entire message was a long essay about the Aetherprint. I spent almost two hours reading it – questioning nearly every sentence – only to see it signed off at the end with a single letter: V.
Valdemar…?
That Riven guy from the Memory Fragment called him V.
So was he Dolos’ Champion after all?
After Memory Fragment #5, I was entirely convinced the second looper was either the Primarch or Prime Security. Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
After switching two tram lines and a bit of walking, I arrived at my home district.
I didn’t know where Blackthorn was exactly. All I knew for sure was that it was somewhere around here – it had to be relatively close to our house.
Luckily, there’s never a shortage of people in Orlinth. Two passersby later, and I already had an exact address.
There were two problems, though.
The first was that most of the streets and alleys leading there were under the Knives’ jurisdiction – a local gang.
And while I was fairly confident I could deal with a few gang members easily – especially now that my COG was upgraded and with Zee by my side – I wasn’t in the mood to test whether the Déjà vu System considered gang members “innocents”. You know, poor misguided souls who just happened to rob, beat, or kill you for a single Steambit because they didn’t know better.
Yeah…no thanks. I’ll pass on that particular death flag.
The second problem – the real one – was that Blackthorn had been officially shut down for three years now.
Apparently, the guild building stood abandoned now – but not for long. Recently, it had been acquired by Carol Lang.
A name I knew well.
Carol Lang was the leader of Owls, the largest inventors’ guild in Orlinth. And she was a massive bitch.
After my little incident, when I was desperately looking for a guild to take me in, she was the only one who offered me a shot – overlooking my criminal record and inviting me for an interview.
I should’ve realized something was off when the interview was scheduled personally with her instead of someone from her guild’s HR department. But back then, I was too desperate to question it.
The interview only lasted about thirty seconds.
She used the first five to make it clear she’d done her research and knew exactly who my mother was.
The next twenty were spent telling me my mother was a fraud and how much “better” she could’ve been if she’d had the same opportunities and ascended to Skyhaven instead.
She never used the word “envious”, but I think it was clear even to someone with zero understanding of humans.
And in the final five seconds? She told me she’d personally make sure I’d never find work – even in second-tier inventor’s guilds. Baines or Halegrim – she didn’t care, and she made sure I knew that.
Fun times.
Anyway, I decided to check out the so-called abandoned Blackthorn building with my own eyes.
So I took the long way – avoiding gang territory – which doubled the travel time. It took me an hour, but at least I got there without trouble.
The area was industrial, with barely any foot traffic. Most people were probably inside the buildings around – peak working hours, after all.
The Blackthorn building itself looked more like a factory than a guild. Two stories, maybe. On the roof stood a massive, faded sign that read “Blackthorn – Where Innovation is Born”, the Bs stylized exactly like the one engraved on the back of the brass medal in the Inventory. Phonotubes lined the edges of the rooftop. Lastly, the exterior of the building was black, metallic, with rust that seemed to have accumulated for much longer than three years.
What stood out most to me was the windows. There were only a handful – and all of them were on the second floor. But more importantly…all of them were perfectly intact.
If this place had really been abandoned for years, I’d expect the usual: gangs, squatters, or even bored kids breaking windows for fun. But here? Nothing. They were dusty but there wasn’t a single crack on them.
I wasn’t sure what I expected to find here, but I decided to trust my past selves, hoping I understood the clue correctly.
The building was surrounded by a simple – yet tall – metal fence. That was the first hurdle. The gate was chained shut with a standard padlock and looped steel chain – nothing fancy. There was a sign near it as well – “Property of the Owls – DO NOT ENTER”.
Fuck you, Carol Lang.
There were a dozen ways I could break it open. But I wanted the quietest one.
I looked around to make sure no one was in sight.
Then, I summoned Zee.
I recalled how during the fight with the Crow he’d responded to voice commands, so I decided to test the extent, and maybe figure out how and why along the way.
I pointed to the chain. “Zee, bite this off.”
The automaton stepped forward, clamped the chain between his fangs, and snapped it with a single chomp.
I let out a small chuckle. “Damn…”
I pushed the gate open and waved him in after me.
Then, I closed it behind us, looping the chain back in place to make it look untouched – or at least close to it.
We headed toward the main entrance – the second hurdle. It was locked with a keypad lock – one of those old mechanical ones where you press a four-digit sequence using ten mechanical buttons: zero through nine.
It was weird seeing one here. I expected this place to have a magitek terminal like most locks in Solvane.
Damn it…
“Okay, let’s try something,” I muttered, then turned to Zee. “Zee, scan the building for a back entry.”
He didn’t move. Just stood there like a statue.
If he could speak, this would probably be the moment he’d say: “What do I look like to you, idiot?”
Fair enough. Forget I said anything.
I glanced up at the windows on the second floor again. Too high. No ledges. Barely any drainpipes as well. And the wall itself was too smooth and bare to attempt climbing.
I could use an Aero to lift myself, but I’d still have to smash a window to get in. And while I might be able to do it quietly enough without drawing attention, there was no guarantee the place didn’t have an alarm system – or worse, notify the nearest Ironwatch station directly.
Before I could commit to anything drastic, I noticed something.
The keypad…some of the numbers were slightly more worn than the others. Barely visible, but enough to catch if one focused.
That’s the thing with locks like this. Human fingers leave trace oils every time they press a key – sebum, sweat, whatever grime people carry around. Over time, the most frequently used digits accumulate enough residue to dull the surface and oxidize differently. The digits don’t wear down because of the pressure, they wear down because of the chemistry.
So now I had the four digits – six, eight, nine, and zero – just not the order.
I took a deep breath and stared at the keypad.
Let’s try opening this thing using probability, psychology, and sheer guesswork.
First, the facts: this wasn’t set here by Ironwatch. These bastards stopped using this type of locks decades ago. Meaning, there was no Ironwatch logic behind it. This lock was set by either Blackthorn members, or by the Owls. You know, actual, regular people.
Currently, there were twenty-four possible combinations I could use. And if I remember correctly, these types of locks usually allowed only two failed attempts. The third one would make the phonotubes scream. That meant I had to narrow it down to three tries. Maximum.
I recalled how once in Dr. Aresa’s office, while waiting for a session, I read one of the books she left in the books stall for waiting patients. One of the chapters in that book had a study about passcode patterns, and I still remembered the gist.
Something like 65% of number-based passcodes followed one of two types: either dates or years, or quirky, memorable sequences.
Statistically, my best bet was to assume the code fell into one of those two categories.
So. Quirky combination first.
It was a four-digit code – and I already knew which four digits were used. So no repeating numbers for sure. The numbers in question also didn’t have a mirrored pattern.
Looking for a shape like a cross, line, or square on the keypad, I couldn’t see anything either.
I tried the arithmetical logic – if the 8 had been a 3, for example, I could’ve gambled on 0369, a plus-three pattern. But there was no 3. And there was no such logic with the numbers I did have.
I saw nothing quirky in 6890, so I turned to the other category: date or year.
The same study had broken it down further: year-style codes were more common than day-month or month-day combinations. Not by much, but I was bullshitting my way through this anyway so I might as well go with what gives me the better odds to succeed.
Now…assuming it was a year, then zero had to be the first digit – the current year was 0707, after all.
With zero first, that narrowed it down to six possibilities.
Still too many.
I glanced at the remaining digits: six, eight, nine. Which one would realistically follow?
Definitely not eight or nine. That’d make the code a future year – and no one in Orlinth was that optimistic.
Six made the most sense.
So: zero, then six. That left two options: 0689, 0698.
I took another deep breath. Reached forward and typed 0698.
The lock screeched in response.
One strike.
I swallowed hard. If the next one failed, I’d have to rethink everything – or just run.
I typed the second option: 0689.
Click.
The lock gave. The door opened.
I stared at it in disbelief.
“…I’m a fucking genius.”