Josan spoke up, "The Dark Messiah was the leader of the Order of Consecration. He created divine statues meant to awaken him from his slumber, or so it's said. What if we were to steal one of them?"
He pulled a scroll from the suitcase at his feet and went on.
"You might wonder why we'd do that. In Mist City, they hold no real value. But in the southern sectors, there are merchants who can trade goods from the outside world—only in the southern sector, though."
Rosacer's expression was strange.
Calling up the system within his mind, he checked the information on the dark messiah. The system flashed before his eyes with dazzling speed.
[The Dark Messiah, also called the Wrong Man and the World's Friend, was a cosmic being who once ruled the Western continent with his allies before being sealed away in the Sheetal realm. In time, he came to be worshiped as the God of Reality.]
Another window shimmered without his question, displaying:
[Motto of the Order of Consecration: The world owes him for his arrival, the god of reality he stands for, the world is his to claim. Follow the path of the Lord, for we are here to fulfill his wishes.]
'Another weird religion... this world is full of fanatics...'
He turned to Josan. "So basically, we steal it, sell it to the merchant, and then what? I'm guessing there'll be a search party after us."
Josan replied, "Yes, that's why we'll need to split up and head to different sectors. You're already anonymous—just change the mask and there won't be a problem. As for any trace of our presence, I've got someone inside to take care of that."
Neb taps his fingers on the table, cutting in. "Her jurisdiction ends outside her sector. There's no way she'll send soldiers beyond it, especially not for her associate."
"It's not really that dangerous—if we don't get caught."
Josan straightened his suit and gestured to Michael.
Michael quickly pulled out a folded paper. At first, it looked no bigger than a stamp, but as he unfolded it, it spread across the entire table, draping over the edges.
Rosacer was astonished but kept his composure as Michael began to speak.
"This is the layout of the house. The owner's name is Fea. A herbalist for the Opelia. Security of her and her house is maintained by the Hounds of the Opelia."
Michael tapped the parchment with a knuckle.
"There is a hound named Wretch Flesh. A big one. Half blind. Half mad. It patrols the yard every twenty minutes. If you are quiet and keep downwind, it should not notice you."
Rosacer exchanged a glance with Neb. The pale man gave a slow nod, urging Michael to continue.
Michael cleared his throat.
"We have four roles tonight. Each of you will act at the exact moment I describe. If even one part falls out of place, the hound will notice and Fea will wake up. So pay attention."
He looked at Josan first.
"Josan, you will take position on the street corner. There is a lamppost there that flickers every few minutes. When it dims, the shadows stretch across the front gate. That is our signal. You will whistle once. Low. Short. That will tell us the yard is clear."
Josan adjusted his hat and gave a firm nod.
Michael then turned to Neb.
"Neb, you will circle behind the house using the alley. There is a discarded water tank blocking half the path. You can slip through. Once you reach the back wall, you lift the loose plank. Behind it is an old ventilation shaft. Small, but it opens right into Fea's storage room."
Neb's pale lips curled into a faint smirk. "I can manage that."
Michael folded the parchment and tapped it against the table.
"Inside, the statue of the Dark Messiah is kept on the second floor. A tiny figurine. A man with black wings. Fea keeps it inside a glass case on a velvet cloth. She thinks it protects her, but it is something else entirely out of her world."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"Rosacer, you will be the one to retrieve it."
Rosacer felt his pulse rise, but his expression remained steady.
'Of course, the scapegoat retrieved it and took the fall just as we were almost outside... that's classic,' he thought to himself.
"The main staircase creaks. Avoid it. Instead, climb the support beam beside the kitchen arch. It reaches the balcony rail. Use the resin-coated gloves I prepared. Once you are on the balcony, enter quietly and lift the glass case. Do not tilt it. There is a tension lock underneath that reacts to angles."
He placed a small wedge of smooth wood on the table.
"Slide this under the case. It will lift evenly. Then take the statue with the cloth Neb will give you. No fingerprints. No trace."
Michael finally leaned back.
"After that, exit through the balcony window. Climb down the vine that grows on the outer wall. Once you reach the ground, head straight to Cornwall Street. House Ten. We regroup there."
Silence settled over the room. Only the faint ticking of the wall clock broke it.
Neb exhaled softly. "It is risky."
Josan cracked his knuckles. "But doable."
Michael looked at Rosacer.
"Do you understand your part?"
Rosacer nodded once.
"Good," Michael said. "Then tonight, we take the Dark Messiah."
Rosacer reviewed the plan in his mind, dissecting it piece by piece. Josan's signal was reliable. Neb's entry through the shaft seemed narrow but workable. Michael's route to the statue was the only delicate part, yet the logic was sound. Fea relied too much on old mechanisms. The plan had structure, rhythm, and an escape window tucked between each step. Rosacer mapped his own contingency. If the hound turned early, he would climb the kitchen beam and slip through the balcony window before anyone noticed. If the glass case alarm failed, he would drop the statue and vanish through the vines alone. Survival always came first.