The city worked like a machine. Merchants stood at their stalls, motionless, not shouting or moving from their spots. Citizens walked the same routes over and over: from one point to another, taking the same steps and the same glances, never changing. Everything was designed to repeat. The king had modified the city for that purpose: he had turned it into a place where people behaved like NPCs. It wasn't life; it was programmed obedience.
In the main square there was a large entrance with two carved wooden doors. Behind that door the king and the kingdom's administration took refuge. No citizen entered or left by their own choice; yet, from time to time, new faces appeared in the city. No one remembered seeing them come in. It was a strange detail nobody could easily explain.
The kathras did not show themselves, or at least it seemed that way. People in the streets did not talk about them. There was a feeling of control: everything obeyed an imposed order.
In the throne room the king stood beside a low table. Two guards were at his side, watching closely. Everything in the room was large and functional; there were no exaggerated luxuries and the accessories didn't seem very valuable.
"Alice and Lina escaped," said one of the guards.
(In the underground prison, Alice and Lina had waited for an opportunity. They didn't use force or magic: they took advantage of the city's programming. They had noticed that, every few days, a supply cart passed through a side tunnel that connected to the market and that the guards only checked the main route. The night before, Alice pretended to be ill in front of the cell; a soldier, programmed to act according to a pattern, called a servant who brought a tray of food. When the guard stepped away and the hallway routine activated, the two of them hid inside the supply crate the cart carried. The cart passed through the service doors and reached the market, where the crates were unloaded among the stalls. At that point, Alice and Lina blended into the crowd — new faces among new faces — and left without attracting attention.)
The king pressed his fists to the table. He looked at the guards with contained fury.
"Damn it. I doubt they'll find anyone capable of destroying this kingdom; nevertheless, I need you to find them," the king said. "Question people and search the other cities. Bring them to me!"
"Yes, as you order," the two guards answered at the same time, and left to carry out the order.
The door closed behind them. The silence in the room lasted barely a second before something shattered it: wood splitting violently.
PAK! KRAAAK!
The king's door exploded into pieces. Someone stepped through the gap. He walked with light, unhurried steps. He bore no insignia and made no announcement. His coat moved with each step.
The king froze. His face showed fear and surprise.
"What…?" he stammered.
The guards came back and attacked. They drew swords and cast magic together. The intruder didn't answer with words: he shrugged off the attacks. The swords disintegrated; the magic was nullified. The guards fell one after another. Their bodies were left as empty sacks of skin.
The man walked up to the throne and spoke calmly.
"You don't need to search. They will come, and someone will arrive whom I want you to test," he said, smiling at the king.
The king, gasping, could barely stammer:
"You… damn you, what are you talking about?"
The intruder grabbed the king by the neck, lightly. He didn't squeeze hard enough to kill, but he held him firmly.
"I don't want answers; I just want to know if you're capable of eliminating him… Don't tell him anything you know or I'll kill you myself, understood?" he whispered into his ear.
The king reacted and shouted to launch a magical attack using the fallen soldiers' bodies. The intruder stopped him without difficulty; he undid the attack and looked at the king again.
"Stupid! Understand that you are useless now. Do what I say and you can live in your fake reign," the intruder said, with contempt.
The man took a step back and left through the exit he had made. He walked down the corridor without looking back. The king sat, trembling. He leaned into the back of his chair and muttered to himself:
"I swore I would kill him when I saw him, but fear paralyzed me."
The scene ended there. Outside, the city continued its routine: motionless merchants, citizens repeating their steps, and new faces appearing without explanation.