Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character

John raised an eyebrow as Rey approached, his commanding presence making the hallway feel even narrower.

"What is it, Rey?" John asked, his tone gruff but curious.

Rey hesitated for a fraction of a second before flashing a confident grin. "Oh, nothing urgent, Commander. I just had some thoughts about the last patrol route and wanted to get your take. You know, since you're the expert."

John's expression softened slightly, but suspicion lingered in his gaze. "Couldn't this wait until tomorrow's briefing?"

Rey shrugged casually. "I figured I'd catch you while I could. You're not exactly the easiest person to pin down, sir."

John sighed, clearly annoyed but too intrigued to brush him off entirely.

*****

Meanwhile, Asher's shadow clone moved with purpose through the dimly lit prison wing, sticking to the darkness like it belonged there. The guards on duty remained oblivious, their focus on their predictable patrols, while the clone slipped effortlessly out of sight.

Reaching Jett's cell, the clone paused, its glowing, indistinct eyes scanning the room. Jett sat on the floor, his back against the wall, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a hint of amusement as he spotted the clone.

"You sure took your sweet time," Jett said, his voice low and measured.

The clone didn't respond, only motioning for Jett to step closer.

Jett smirked as he stood, brushing himself off. "Not the chatty type, huh? Figures."

Without another word, Jett approached, his sharp eyes watching as the clone handed him a small object.

*****

Back outside the door to the prison, Rey was doing his best to keep John occupied.

"So, Commander," Rey started, scratching the back of his head like he was trying to play it cool, "don't you think the patrol routes near the east wing are kind of... predictable? If someone were trying to sneak in, they might..."

John raised a hand, cutting him off with a sharp look. "Are you saying my security measures are lacking, Rey?"

Rey held up his hands quickly, laughing nervously. "No, no, not at all, sir! I just thought, maybe, you know, it wouldn't hurt to reevaluate a little. Fresh perspectives and all that."

John's eyes narrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Fine. I'll take another look when I have time. Anything else?"

Rey shook his head quickly. "Nope, that's it. Thanks for hearing me out!"

John muttered something under his breath before turning and walking away.

Rey let out a slow breath, relief flooding through him as the tension lifted.

'That should buy you some time, Asher,' he thought, casting a quick glance toward the prison entrance.

*****

The shadow clone stood motionless, a silent observer as Jett scrutinized the token in his hand. It exuded an aura of quiet vigilance, its presence was almost nonexistent as though it wasn't even there.

"A messaging item, huh?" Jett mused, turning the object over with deliberate care. "Shame we can't use my ring for this. The guards thought they were clever, confiscating it like that."

His finger traced around the object, pausing as his sharp mind worked to decipher its purpose. "So I just need to infuse my Aura, and then…"

He stopped mid-sentence, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips as he turned slightly to regard the clone. "Oh right, you're not him, are you? Still, you can hear and see right? Asher." Jett said with a grin on his face, "Not a total waste then."

With a flicker of focus, Jett infused a small trickle of his Aura into the token. Its glow intensified, the object dissolving into fine lines of light that shifted and reformed into the delicate shape of a thin paper.

Curiosity sparked in his eyes as he unfolded the newly revealed message. He scanned the text, his smirk widening into something both amused and knowing.

"So there really was a traitor," Jett murmured, the words like venom in the quiet air. "And Asher got himself hurt dealing with it? Figures. Can't say I'm shocked."

He leaned back, the cool stone wall pressing against his shoulders as he flicked the paper with his fingers. "Too bad I'm stuck here. Cleaning up messes like this is my specialty."

The clone remained unmoving, watching in silence. Jett glanced at it again, his smirk turning almost playful. "You know, you didn't have to go through all this effort just to fill me in. You're capable enough to handle this without me micromanaging from behind bars."

With a casual motion, he folded the paper neatly and slipped it into his pocket, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a shrug, he added in a softer, yet firm tone, "Still, tell him this: just do what you can. When the time comes, I'll help if I can."

The shadow clone didn't so much as flinch. It was a living reflection of discipline and purpose.

Jett's smirk faded into something more contemplative as he leaned back again, his hands resting behind his head. His voice dropped to a murmur, barely audible.

"Let's see how far Asher gets without me."

Jett leaned back with a satisfied grin as the shadow clone shimmered, its form dissipating like smoke into the dim air of the prison cell. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the edge of the stone bench, the sound echoing faintly. A glint of mischief sparkled in his eyes.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," he muttered to himself, his voice low with anticipation. His sly smile widened as he leaned forward, his thoughts racing with the possibilities unfolding in his mind.

*****

Asher stood beside his bed, a scoff escaping his lips as he shook his head. "Corky bastard," he muttered, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Who said I needed your help? You think way too highly of yourself, Jett."

He rolled his shoulders, testing the limits of his mobility, wincing slightly at the pull of the bandages wrapped around his torso. Despite the lingering ache, he reached for his clothes. His shirt slid over his head, settling snugly against his skin, and he quickly laced up his boots.

On the bedside table lay a small pill. Asher picked it up, turning it over in his fingers.

'Marcella's handiwork, huh?' he thought, inspecting the glossy surface. Without hesitation, he popped it into his mouth.

A sharp, acrid bitterness hit his tongue instantly, drawing a wince. 'Ugh, bitter as hell,' he thought, swallowing hard. 'That's how you know it's high-tier. Can't believe I can actually taste it.'

Asher turned toward the door, pausing when he noticed a tray of food lying on the floor just outside his room.

His brows furrowed as he scanned the empty corridor. The faint clatter of distant activity echoed, but no one was nearby.

"Is this for me?" Asher muttered, crouching to pick up the tray. His stomach growled, betraying his hunger, and he let out a soft chuckle. "I did say I was hungry, but…"

He glanced around one last time, then shrugged. "It's not poisoned, so I guess it's fine." Balancing the tray, he carried it inside, setting it on the table as he prepared to eat before heading out.

*****

Meanwhile, Rey was still locked in conversation with John, though his tone had grown increasingly strained.

"So, uh," Rey began, forcing a casual grin as he walked alongside the Commander, "where did you learn to fight? I mean, you've got that unshakable composure and all. Were you trained in the capital?"

John glanced at him, his sharp eyes glinting with suspicion. He seemed fully aware of Rey's stalling tactics but chose to indulge him, for now.

"Not exactly," John replied. "I trained in the borderlands. Real battlefields don't care for capital polish."

"Right, right, makes sense," Rey said quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. Desperate to maintain the momentum, he gestured broadly. "And what do you think of the Vond soldiers? Pretty disciplined, huh? Bet their strategies keep you on your toes."

John's brow furrowed, and a flicker of impatience crossed his face.

"They're competent," he replied curtly, his tone sharp. "But why the sudden interest? Something bothering you?"

Rey's pulse quickened as he scrambled for another question, cursing inwardly. 'You bastards, what the hell are you still doing in there?'

"Oh, no, no reason," Rey said with a nervous laugh, waving his hand dismissively. "Just, you know, always good to learn from the best."

John stopped abruptly, and Rey nearly bumped into him. The Commander's gaze was cold and cutting, his authoritative demeanor making Rey's skin prickle.

"Alright," John said firmly, his voice carrying an edge that brooked no argument. "I've indulged your chatter long enough. I'm heading to the cells now. If you're so interested, you can come along. After all, it's your friend we're going to see."

Rey froze, his heart sinking. There was no escaping it now. With no other option, he nodded and fell in step behind John, his nerves taut as he desperately tried to think of a way to salvage the situation.

*

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He's going to be soooo pissed.

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