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The roulette wheel of fate spins. The bets have been placed, and the ball thrown.
Molly moves cameras, re-routes guards, and uses her own body to distract and delay so Adelade can get to where she needs to go. She hopes, dearly, that the vision she had was false, and that she isn't playing directly into HANGED_MAN's hands.
Knight finishes hauling the last load of smashed mech parts and reactor pieces to the pile, biceps shimmering with sweat. The spare parts and tools that the Baroness inherited from the previous baron of the region lay spread out on a tarp in the gleaming noonday sun. She picks up a wrench and gets to work.
Empress moves quickly from cover to cover, waiting for Molly's signal, moving on her own intuition. She travels on rooftops, under cellars, through sewers, all to get to the hillock where she hid her mech at the start of all this.
Jester uses the authentication codes from the King's Hand to carefully explore the digital space that forms the backbone of the King's defenses. She spies on troops, steals plans and diagrams, and slowly grows out a space for herself, a burl of code and data and backdoors that begins to engulf everything nearby. She grins, ensconced between the processors of her mech.
The King lounges in climate-controlled luxury, silk sheets and fine wine, marble statues and gold jewelry, a man who knows that the game is rigged in his favor.
HANGED_MAN watches the wheel spin and the ball bounce, calculates odds and angles. No matter what, the house always wins.
He grins, a nails-on-chalkboard laugh sharpening in his throat.
