Nearing Dot's location, Weaver's Perception picked up on Curtis, Ray, and Hannah exiting the dungeon they'd been fighting in.

  Luke: "Just got a ping from you. Done with the dungeon?"

  Curtis: "Done. It was too easy."

  Ray: "Two levels in a single dungeon, not too shabby!"

  Hannah: "Luke. Where are you?"

  All too aware that someone would be listening in, Luke still told them the address. There was no hiding what he was about to do.

  Luke: "I'm outside a building with a large ISG sign on the front. Dot is inside, and I'm not leaving without her."

  Ray: "So dramatic."

  Hannah: "We're coming. Wait for us."

  He was about to answer when something punched into his chest.

  "Ouf."

  Before Luke knew it, he was on the ground. Having made it into Manhattan proper, some people were out and about, though it was still far sparser than the throng that should've been out and about. Now, people screamed and ran, all of them heading away from him as a wet spot formed on the front of Luke's shirt. Blood, and a lot of it.

  It didn't take a genius to understand that he'd been shot. More rounds punched into him, hitting his arm, thigh, and grazing his head. Blood poured out as Luke struggled to roll over and find the shooter, even as the wounds knitted themselves back together with ease. Each bullet went straight through him, allowing for swift healing. The pain, he could deal with.

  The stored healing mana in Luke's Meta-heart meant he didn't need to divert his attention. Instead, he scanned the buildings towering over him, searching the windows, but it was futile. More shots followed, but Luke was up and running, heading for cover behind the corner of a building, using Weavestep to move in an erratic pattern. Wounds he could deal with, but if one of those shots hit him in the head, Luke wasn't sure he could recover. Relian, The Fallen Shepherd, had done just that, but that man had an understanding of healing that far surpassed Luke's own.

  Panting, Luke peeked out before ducking back and to the side, avoiding line of sight. He'd identified the right building, a tall office building on the opposite side of the road, but finding the shooter just wasn't possible.

  Alan: "This building is under guard. I'll deal with you when my other business has concluded. You should leave."

  Luke: "You wanted me to come here, Alan. Remember? Before trying to kill me, that is. I'm not leaving without Dot."

  Alan: "More pliable Lifeweavers are needed for what I'm planning. It is nothing personal, but you'll do as you're told and leave for now. I am in a meeting."

  Luke: "I'm not leaving. You didn't forget what happened in your office, did you? Your skill didn't work on me."

  Alan: "It works just fine on Dorothy."

  Luke: "I'm coming for you."

  Alan: "We'll see."

  Another round struck Luke's chest. It would've pierced his heart if not for Guardian Weave, but it still did enough damage to force him to move. The sniper had changed position in a hurry. Having crossed over to a different building in such a short amount of time made Luke think his assailant was an Integrated, like himself. Running even as he healed, Luke stumbled along the wall until he found a side-entrance to Integrated Solutions Group's headquarters and shouldered his way inside. It wasn't even locked.

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  Suspicious.

  Luke: "I'm heading inside. Gunman outside shot me a couple of times."

  Hannah: "Are you OK?"

  Luke: "Yeah."

  Integrated Hannah is not able to receive messages at this time.

  Integrated Ray is not able to receive messages at this time.

  Integrated Curtis is not able to receive messages at this time.

  "Goddammit," Luke muttered, surveying the inside of the building even as he stitched himself back together. While the healing from his meta-heart was powerful, it wasn't endless. Better to do some manual work and put himself back together to save some for what was to come.

  It was silent inside. Empty. Even more suspicious. Hannah was in the building. The echo of himself left inside her from his healing told him as much, but it wasn't precise enough to show her exact location. Weaver's Perception didn't work like that. What it did tell him was that she was above him.

  Alan: "You're causing a scene. Law enforcement is on the way."

  Luke: "You want me in this city. You want me dead. You want me behind bars. Make up your mind!"

  Outgoing messages are not possible at this time.

  Luke was about to take the communications gem out of his inventory and throw it against the wall in frustration, but held back. It might be useful later, after Alan had atoned for his sins. At that point, Smudge thrummed inside what Luke had decided to call “Stable,” and he let the creature out as he collected himself and listened for any sign of approaching guards.

  "You've grown again," Luke noted as he once again pulled the self-repairing robe out of his inventory, replacing the shredded T-shirt and shorts with something that could take more of a beating.

  Smudge reached up to Luke's thighs now. Still in the shape of a dog-ish creature, the voidling tilted its head to the side, as if puzzled.

  "What, Smudge?"

  "Luke."

  Luke turned to face down the corridor leading out of the small foyer just inside the building he'd just entered.

  "Hiroki?"

  His hair had grown a little, and looked just as disheveled as the rest of him. Unshaven and with dark rings under his eyes, the bojutsu instructor wielded a wooden staff as he approached, eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't have come."

  "That's why you never got back to me? Alan got to you?"

  "None of this is what I wanted. Bring out your staff and show me what you've learned."

  Luke shook his head, getting a bad feeling. "You're better with the staff, but you don't have a chance against me, Hiroki. What is going on here?"

  Hiroki stepped forward with surprising speed and thrust the butt of his staff into Luke's shoulder. It didn't even make Luke budge. The recent increase in physical attributes made themselves known again as Hiroki pulled back and spun, slamming the staff into Luke's chest with all his might. Wood splintering, Luke raised an eyebrow. He'd felt the attack, sure, but it was nothing. He'd just been shot several times, dammit. This was nothing compared to that. What the hell was going on?

  Eyes wide, Hiroki stepped in, his mouth open in a sneer. The man's class, Heartsteel, allowed him to temper his body, making it almost indestructible, among other things, and the punch that followed sent Luke reeling. Against an opponent with a fighter class, Luke couldn't just tank every blow. Of course he couldn't. He was a healer. Still, the difference in levels made the exchange almost laughable.

  After the initial blow, Luke squared his feet. Rather than return the favor, threads of mana sprang forth to hold Hiroki, who leapt back to avoid them.

  "Fine help you are," Luke told Smudge, who was now peering right up into the ceiling. "Aren't pets supposed to fight alongside their master?"

  Even without speaking, or making a sound of any sort, Smudge communicated a sort of huff that spoke volumes. He was no pet, and Luke certainly wasn't his master.

  Shaking his head, Luke turned back to Hiroki. "Just get out of the way, man. I'll deal with Alan, and then we can put this behind us."

  "Can't let you past."

  Luke sighed. "Of course you can't."

  The only reason for this situation was that Alan wanted Luke to kill Hiroki for some reason, perhaps another attempt at blackmail, or for the cops to show up to find him standing over a corpse. Either way, that wasn't going to happen.

  Unable to wait any longer, Luke took a step forward, and then another. Walking, he approached his former instructor. When Hiroki went on the offensive, striking out with his fingers pointed forward, like the tip of a spear, aiming for Luke's throat, Luke extended a single thread of mana, entering the tip of Hiroki's finger to gain access to the man's mana channels. Before the blow landed, Hiroki collapsed to the ground, unconscious. A spark to shock the base of his skull, right into the suboccipital nerve, put him on his ass without permanent damage.

  Unsure what else to do with the man, Luke left him there and raced past, heading for the stairs. Sounds were coming from above and from behind now. A lot of people were on the stairs and, judging by call-outs from the corridor he'd just left, the cops had arrived. Great, just great. Rather than follow along as Luke raced up the stairs, Smudge's paws left the floor, and the creature floated into the air, disappearing into the ceiling. He didn't make a hole for himself. No, that would have been far too normal. Instead, the now not so little voidling merged with the tiles and just sort of moved through them, like a ghost.

  "That boy ain't right," Luke mumbled, turning to focus on the threat coming down the stairs.