Start as a Spiritual Planter: I Have a Game Panel

While Shane, still in his private box high above the Zero Point Arena, began to sketch the crude outlines of a trap centered around the upcoming Harvest Festival, a very different plan was taking shape in the mind of his primary target.

Ram, having mastered the ability to reshape his body into a perfect replica of Kain, saw an opportunity.

If he couldn't easily find Shane, perhaps Kain could walk right up to him.

The idea was risky, bordering on reckless, but the potential payoff and access to the heart of the Blood Hawk Gang were too tempting to ignore.

Closing his eyes, Ram focused his mind, reaching out with his spiritual senses to the network of Soul Seeds he'd discreetly planted throughout the district.

He found the one he wanted – a tiny seed nestled in a crack in the grimy wall of a derelict building, not far from the heavily fortified subway station that now served as Shane's main stronghold.

With a deep breath, Ram activated the connection with the Soul Seed to teleport.

Soon, the world around him dissolved in a dizzying swirl of light. It was a sensation like being pulled through a straw at impossible speed, disorienting but familiar.

A moment later, the chaotic rush ceased, and he found himself standing in a narrow, trash-strewn alleyway.

He took a moment to steady himself, flexing Kain's larger, calloused hands, feeling the unfamiliar weight and power in the limbs.

The rugged, scarred face he now wore felt alien, but he'd practiced Kain's mannerisms from the memories of Kain that were devoured by the Mind Shadow parasite, his gruff way of speaking, the slight limp he sometimes affected after a tough fight.

He had to be Kain, not just look like him to avoid any doubt, but thanks to the continuous input of unfamiliar memories that were sent to his mind by the Mind Shadow parasite, he got familiar as he moved towards the Subway station.

The entrance to the subway station was almost two blocks away, with dense forest blocking his way.

Even from this distance, Ram could see the changes from the top of the trees.

What was once a small hideout has now unmistakably become a large fortress.

Makeshift barricades of plasteel sheeting and sandbags choked the main entrances.

Roughly armed Blood Hawk thugs, easily identifiable by their gang colors and the predatory way they scanned their surroundings, patrolled the perimeter.

Few of their cybernetic enhancements glinted dully in the perpetual twilight of the lower city.

As Ram jumped from one tree to another, quietly adopting Kain's characteristic heavy tread.

His mind raced, formulating a plausible story for Kain's sudden reappearance.

Kain had been missing, presumed captured or dead. He couldn't just stroll in as if nothing had happened.

He'd need a coverup story of capture, a thrilling escape, perhaps some fabricated intelligence about the Half-Drows to make his return even more valuable.

As he neared the first checkpoint, a pair of Blood Hawk guards, their faces hardened and suspicious, spotted him.

Their hands instinctively went to the weapons slung over their shoulders.

"Hold it right there! Who is there?" one of them barked, his voice amplified by a cheap throat mic.

Ram stopped, letting out a gruff sigh that sounded identical to Kain's usual weariness mixed with irritation.

He needed to project Kain's authority, his disdain for lower-ranking grunts.

"It's me, you idiots," Ram growled, his voice a perfect imitation of Kain's tone.

He purposefully roughed up his appearance further, mussing Kain's already disheveled hair and scuffing his (Ram's own, but now Kain's) boots against the grimy alley wall, adding a layer of convincing exhaustion and battle weariness.

"Or did you forget what your captain looks like after a few days of me being gone?"

The guards exchanged uncertain glances. One of them, younger and clearly more nervous, squinted at Ram.

"Captain Kain? Is... is that really you, sir? We heard... we thought you were..."

"You thought I was dead?" Ram (as Kain) cut him off with a snarl, stepping forward with a swagger that was pure Kain. "It takes more than a few fancy-robed freaks to kill me. Now get out of my way. I need to report to the Big Boss."

The authority in his voice, combined with the uncanny resemblance, seemed to do the trick.

The guards stiffened, their suspicion quickly replaced by a hesitant deference.

"Y-yes, Captain! Right this way, sir!" the younger one, who looked less than sixteen, stammered, quickly gesturing for Ram to pass.

The other guard, older and more grizzled, still looked a bit unsure but didn't dare challenge him.

Without much suspicion, Ram successfully infiltrated the base.

He grunted dismissively and strode past them, his heavy (Kain's) boots thudding on the cracked concrete.

The subway station had indeed been transformed. The air was thick with the smell of stale sweat, cheap stimulants, and the faint, acrid scent of weapon lubricants.

Makeshift bunks lined some of the tunnels, and groups of thugs were scattered about, some gambling with greasy cards, others sharpening blades or cleaning firearms.

The low hum of machinery echoed from deeper within, likely from their new, hastily constructed forge.

Ram kept his head high, his gaze sweeping over the grunts with the disdain Kain would have shown.

He noted the increased number of heavy weapons, the newly erected plasteel barricades at key junctions, and the nervous energy that thrummed beneath the surface of the usual gang bravado.

They were clearly on edge, jumpy after the recent attacks.

He moved through the station, his mind a whirl of calculations.

He needed to find Shane, but bursting in wouldn't do.

He had to play this smart. He remembered the layout from when they stayed here and made his way towards the central hall, the area Shane typically used as his command center.

As he approached the more heavily guarded central area, a brutish-looking thug, one Ram vaguely recognized from his mental download of Kain's memories as one of Kain's more loyal, if dim-witted, underlings, spotted him.

"Captain Kain! You're alive!" the thug called Iron Head Razor exclaimed, his eyes widening in genuine surprise, and he smiled, making fun of Kain. "Boss Shane's been… Well, he ain't been happy since you disappeared. Though those freaky mages got ya for good! Hahaaaa…."

Ram clapped the thug on the shoulder very hard, a rough, almost painful gesture.

"Takes more than that to put me down, Razor. Where's Shane? I've got information that'll calm his anger down." He leaned in, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial growl. "And maybe earn us all a fat bonus if he's in a good mood."

Razor grinned, revealing a set of yellowed, crooked teeth. "Right this way, Captain! The Boss Man ain't here right now, though."

"He went up to the Zero Point Arena, something about this Harvest Festival thingy. But Marcos is holding down the fort. He's in the main control room, barking orders as usual." Razor punctuated the last part with a subtle eye roll that Kain would have definitely appreciated.

It seemed the sentiment towards Marcos was shared among some of Kain's loyalists.

"Marcos, huh?" Ram grunted, making sure to inject Kain's signature disdain for the man into his tone.

"Still trying to play second-in-command, is he?" He gave Razor another rough clap on the shoulder. "Alright, lead on. Let's see if he's managed to burn the place down in my absence."

Razor let out a short, barking laugh.

"He's been wound tighter than a drum, Captain. Especially since... well, you know." He gestured vaguely, hinting at Kain's disappearance and the subsequent chaos.

"Been snapping at everyone. It'll be good to have you back to put him in his place a bit."

As they walked, the sounds of the gang's activities grew louder.

The clanging of metal from the forge, the shouted arguments over gambling debts, the tinny blare of some aggressive music from a hidden speaker.

It all blended into a cacophony that was the Blood Hawk Gang's natural habitat.

Ram took it all in, filing away details. The Gang felt more crowded, more desperate than Kain's memories suggested. Shane was clearly beefing up his forces.

They reached a reinforced doorway, flanked by two more guards who looked even meaner than the ones at the entrance.

These two, however, recognized Kain instantly and straightened up, offering curt nods.

Razor puffed out his chest slightly, clearly enjoying the reflected authority of walking beside the supposedly returned captain.

"He's in there, Captain," Razor said, jerking a thumb towards the door. "Want me to come in with you?"

Ram shook his head. "Nah, I can handle Marcos."

"You go tell the others I'm back. Spread the word. Let them know Kain's not so easily disposed of." He wanted to project confidence, to make it seem like he was immediately reassuming his old position.

"Will do, Captain!" Razor said, a genuine note of enthusiasm in his voice. He then turned and practically swaggered off, eager to spread the news.