It was early in the morning when Calypso woke up; he did not want to waste any second of the day. Today, he was finding Hecate. As he rose from his bed and put on his boots, he took a moment to think. He thought about all that was happening, the sun rising over the horizon, the rustling of glasses being prepared downstairs, the feeling of his skin against his clothes, themselves against the bed, the smell of dust permeating the air. He still felt tired from the events of the day prior, but he couldn’t just go back to bed. He was about to start his day, and finally get revenge. Calypso stood up, equipped his trusty revolvers and his old rifle, and headed downstairs. Not saying a word, he went past the very few patrons and the bartender, straight to his horse. He detached Valiant, and headed to Deadwood.

The journey was a long one. He left when the sun could still be hidden behind an old building, and arrived at noon, when not even the highest spire could try to eclipse the sun. Deadwood was, as its name implies, dead. Every citizen stayed inside their own home, or went to the bar for some refreshments. Calypso followed the trail, and went inside. He examined every suspicious person in the room. Amongst a bunch of crooks and highwaymen, a tall and slender figure stood out. All dressed in black, if not for the red feather on their Hardee hat, was the cowboy’s target, drinking some beer at the counter. The wrathful man kept his calm, and instead, calmly approached the person.

“Fancy another drink?”, he said, trying his very best to sound friendly.

“Sorry friend, I don’t swing.”, playfully answered Hecate.

“Oh don’t worry, I didn’t mean it that way.”, said Calypso, forming the most convincing smile he could form.

“Well if you insist, I won’t say no. I’ll take another beer, please.”, said the person.

The bartender came and gave the two people one beer each.

“So, what do you do around here? You don’t look much like a local.”, asked the cowboy.

“Oh.. It’s complicated, you see. Typically, I… “obtain” certain materials, and sell them. Though these days it’s been more complicated. I’m… quite the celebrity, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think I do. Say, what got you in this situation?”, asked the cowboy, not noticing how obvious he was being.

The fugitive leaned in and said:

“I.. “ended” someone. In the Citadel. Some idiot who didn’t understand his money was worth more than his life. I made it out, but I left a bit of me back there.”, they said, as they pulled up their sleeve to show their left arm, completely burnt. “Though I’m sure you know that already. Don’t you? You’re not a very good actor, are you? You’ve already evaporated your beer.”

Raging, Calypso closed his hand and gripped his glass so hard it exploded in the palm of his hand. Both people could smell the alcohol in the air, in addition to the burnt wood from the counter.

“You know what, cowboy? You want revenge, correct? Then let’s settle this the honourable way. Meet me when the moon starts rising, in front of the bar. We’ll have one of your old fashioned cowboy duels, to settle things fairly.”

Without a word, Calypso stood up and stormed out the bar; They wanted a duel? They’d get one.

As the sun started setting down, Calypso knew the time was coming. Michael would be avenged, this evening or never. The cowboy had prepared all afternoon, aiming at the birds in the sky. He made his way to the place in front of the bar. His opponent waited for him, their silhouette contrasting against the dying sun behind them.

“Let’s do this.”, coldly said the cowboy.