The fear in Dross' eyes was the last confirmation Furor needed. He hadn't worn that amulet for nothing; this Watcher had indeed met one of the old gods. A sinister smile planted itself on Furors face, which further frightened his opponent; then he closed the portal. There were still many ties unanswered, connections that made not much sense to the Wildcard. Deep in his gut a voice rose, claiming it got answers to his many questions, but Furor decided to ignore it and mumbled exasperated:

"I know that you can answer my questions, Speclux. But I refuse to ever let you again into my consciousness when I am not resting under optimal conditions. You have caused too much damage already; damage I can't ever hope to restore."

A sudden noise caused Furors head to turn towards the tunnel it originated from. A tall being, completely made of wood and leaves, rested her barked hands on the walls of the tunnel. The dryad then walked out of the shadows into the light of the office; she started talking with the all too well known celestial voice down to Furor:

"After all these years, you still haven't accepted the presence of my sister? What a shame; even your wife eventually gave in and allowed me to coexist with her.", the yellow glowing eyes of the dryad met with the deeply annoying glance of Furor, "If you would just give in, you could have noticed from the get-go the pure divine energy going out of this mortal being, who is calling himself Dross Hegraven. And I am not talking about the faint energy of Chóros; there was more hidden below his skin."

Furor had enough. He felt the short fuse of his enormous temper burning down at a rapid rate. With an angry motion, Furor removed the glove from his left hand, and revealed to the dryad the place, where his hand should reside. But nothing was there; all that was visible were barely noticeable pulses of energy at the places, where his nerve system would be. With a deep and dangerous voice, he retaliated the divine being residing in his wife:

"Oh, I am sorry Aetas! Why am I not so keen on losing the rest of my body to Speclux' presence? I think it is obvious considering two-thirds of my body are scattered throughout the cosmos, leaving me behind with a next to invisible body. All Videns had to trade in to allow the god of time to live alongside her was her immortality in exchange for longevity. We both have accepted your blessing, and we will do everything to fulfil our end of the deal, so no worries.", Furor calmed down from his sudden outburst, "Yes, I have noticed. Dross is not quite that, what he shows us to be. I have rarely before seen the Book of Debts struggle so much with identifying the signer. The only times that happened without rejecting the ink was with the deals made with the Eternal counsel. But he didn't seem like belonging to them. I felt his breath and heard his heartbeat. Anyway, Aetas? Do you mind if I would like to trade a few words now with my wife?"

The dryad nodded slightly, and the yellow immediately left the eyes of hers, returning to the emerald green of Videns. A warm smile ran across the wooden face; she laid her rooted arm over Furor's shoulders. He immediately calmed down in Videns sole presence and caressed the sweet-smelling hand of hers softly. With a soft voice Furor excused himself seemingly sad:

"Hello again, sweety. I see myself sadly forced to postpone our date this evening for a few hours. But don't worry, your favourite restaurant will then still be open; I will personally make sure of it. But as you might have heard, my time frame regarding this job couldn't be slimmer. Can you forgive me?"

The dryad cracked a smile, reached down and gave Furor a hearty kiss on the cheek:

"I can, but only under the condition, that I can choose the target of our next heist. I have set my eyes on a true challenge of our skills; you will love it. And besides, you know me. I am and will always be on your site, no matter the odds. Do you need assistance with anything?"

Furor frowned his brows, thinking back to the last time he took Videns with him into the underground. Shaking off the bad memories, he just shook his head:

"I feel uneasy knowing you down there in the deadbeat caverns and that even in my presence. I don't trust anybody in this realm of slavery and torture, and you know how asked Arcadians like you are on the market. We risk getting mugged or worse if you just show a leaf of your gorgeous face down there to the wrong person. No. I will meet up with Ettora alone and in secret, get access to her Drago slave, and am gone before someone gets the foolish idea in trying to claim one of my many bounties. And after that a well deserved dinner. Does this sound good to you?"

The dryad started purring softly and rubbed her barked cheek against his. The rough texture felt good on Furors skin, and he briefly gave in into the cuddle:

"Considerate; sounds like a good plan. I will wait for you then, love, and instead, start gathering intel for our next 'rendezvous'. However, one last thing out of pure curiosity. What will your plan be regarding our newest customer? He seemed like an upstanding man, and I feel it would be good not losing this possible ally for our cause due to a favour gone wrong. Just be careful, please. Especially as Aetas told me, that the possibility is very high, that Dross could be useful for us."

"Futuresight again, eh? So in a few possible timelines starting from this very day that panther could be a noteworthy piece in our big plan? Noted! But I have to go now; the clock is ticking. Until later!", Furor gave Videns a last kiss, "I love you."

The human left Videns side and went one final time over his attire. After removing a single hair of his fuzzy customer from his shoulder, he felt ready. Only one thing left to do. The following portal he used daily, so no memory charge got required for that vault. After drawing a circle with a sharp tip on each side, he reached with his arm into that particular portal. That portal was one of over a hundred gates granting Furor access to his personal vault. There he had sealed up all his most essential belongings in blastproof cases with a portal frame scraped into the inside of the door. Vault 001, the one he just accessed, for example, hosted his trusty portal gun. This magic missile got rewired and repurposed to support his special ability, the same granted to him by Speclux, the goddess of passage.

He lied to Dross before; there was no way that a normal mirrormage could even comprehend this ability. He was the only known user of remote portal exits, and not even a handful knew the true origins of it. Amused Furor thought back to a fellow mirrormage, who contracted him, begging him to teach the poor guy his secrets. The Wildcard let him go after a useless lecture regarding determination while struggling to keep his cool trying not bursting out in laughter. 

Furor activated the wireless connection of his cybertronic eye. That allowed the eye to establish communication with his portal gun. He cocked the rifle and shot a blast of concentrated energy. A mere thought was enough for the gun to understand the desired location and adjust the silhouette of the shot. The shot connected with the wall and the gate got immediately opened. The deadbeat caverns and all its cruelty awaited Furor just beyond the purplish glowing gate. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and left his office:

"Hello again, you mouldering beauty. Missed me?"

...

Exactly 24 hours later: a brief flash of light escaped the unused chimney in Raja's domicile. Dross, who was currently alone in the house, noticed the smell immediately. The odour of a copper alloy combusted to smitheries. Dross knew, what this meant: Furor finished his job and used the portal disc, he provided him. Dross' excitement rose when he kneeled and looked into the chimney. There it was, laying in between countless thin copper pieces on top of a small note; the genetic disc of the exact Drago, he dreamt so often from. And from this day on, the dream would not remain one, but it would get quite real. 

Dross' interest peaked after realizing what exactly he saw there. Those metal splinters were oddly similar to those found in the display, where the 'Red Plague' resided until getting stolen by unknown forces. Doss combined the obvious. That can only mean, that after all, the Wildcard was indeed the cunning thief. Letting out an appreciative whistle, Dross finally picked up the disc with the attached letter. Curious on what Furor had to say, he opened the folded paper:

'We haven't ever met from face to face, but in our brief meeting in Stiria, I immediately felt that you are a good man, Dross. Please use this sample of mine for good and good alone. For the slim chance, that you want to return the favour, I would like to tell you, who will be after this day my . . . owner . . . a governor by the name of Hector S. Rearrock, who got stationed in the Squa'osa Archipelago. Your mediator decided to influence the auction, rendering this excuse of a lizard to my master. The man, calling himself the Wildcard, told me that you possess a big heart and would not let such a crime go unpunished. Even if you don't manage to free me or whatever, I would still appreciate it meeting you for real. 

Signed: #17, formerly known by the name: Arasa'

Dross clenched his fist and injected the disc with a grim smile on his face into his transformation device:

"I am unable to read you, Furor, but I thank you nonetheless for this opportunity. So you are called Arasa? By my pride! I will return your kindness, knowing that Furor didn't forcefully take the samples from you, renders everything so much easier. The strength I borrowed from you I will use to free you!"