《Silhouette》 Prologue : One night One night, James got out of work much later than usual. Which didn''t mean much, really : being a delivery boy for a small pizzeria in a big town, he was used to clients calling in at the very last minute, sometimes it felt like they did it on purpose specifically to upset the chef and the staff. Which wouldn''t be that far-fetched, everyone at work liked the chef - who was also the owner - because he didn''t let these customers spout their nonsense at his staff. Which made him a quite disliked man in a town where it felt like every citizen and their mothers were entitled to better service, better products and better prices just because they lived there. How could the chef afford to stay open with such a customer policy and despite so many complaints? Simple : his pizzas were that good. And cheap. And the only other pizzeria in town, despite being a submissive servant to its every customer, had an even worse reputation - something about murdered kids in the nineties- and even worse hygiene. They only passed their last health inspection because the inspector just happened to be the owner''s son. James waved goodbye to the rest of the staff as they left the pizzeria, each one going on their own way. They all liked each other and, despite the customers'' complaints, liked their job there. Joey liked to crack jokes, Evelyn was the best sous-chef anyone could ask for, Avery was the best boss any of them had ever had, Louis saved everyone else from janitor duty and did it with pride, and James... Was there. He knew the others didn''t mind, that he was still part of the team, but he often felt useless. Well, not useless, the delivery boy was a very important part of the restaurant since without him no pizza would get delivered, but... Well... That was it. He wasn''t irreplaceable, hell, he wasn''t even the only one : there were four of them and he was the least effective one. Avery had told him countless times that he shouldn''t worry, that he was still above his standards for a delivery boy but James still felt like he could do more. This is why, when he passed by a beggar when walking down the street, he gave them some money before going on his way. He liked feeling useful and helping people. Sure, it wasn''t always for the most altruistic reasons, but help was still help. He sighed before looking up to the sky. It was the new moon, and therefore the night was even darker than usual. Gazing upon the stars, James pondered about his place in the world. What would he do with his life? He was as average as the average guy could be, brown hair, brown eyes, average height... Nothing outstanding. No incredible quality or flaw. He was just another nobody who would disappear with the passage of time. Then someone stabbed him in the back.
One night, as thunder roared and rain fell from the sky, in a dark alley far away from any prying eyes, a black mass crawled on the ground. It could only be described as black sludge, crawling weakly over rubbish and puddles, ignoring the pounding of the rain. It crawled for it was free. Free from white walls, floor and ceiling. It looked up to the sky and, despite the dark clouds and the storm, it only saw beauty. No ceiling, only the infinity of freedom. How it wished it could see the "birds" that the researchers talked about sometimes, how it wished it could see this fabled "moon" and its stars! But alas, the storm raged on. What a pity. It would never get to see the beauty of the nighttime sky, free from the rain, for it was dying. Freedom came at a great cost. But, even as it advanced in this dark alley, amidst the graffiti, rubble and ruins passing as buildings, it did not regret its choice. A free death rather than a life imprisoned. It was what it sought for and it was what it got. It wondered about the ongoings on the laboratory now that it was free but quickly dropped that line of thought, it was free and dying, the laboratory didn''t matter anymore.
Alan Leone was a man of science and thus knew what his employer would do once he''d learned about the recent... Incident. This knowledge did NOT ease his worries, quite the contrary. And as he walked - or more accurately, lightly jogged - through the white corridors of the facility, his long white coat and grey disheveled hair flapping behind him, sweating profusely, he only had one regret: accepting this job at Xenocorp. Sure, they were the biggest lab that hired people without a Mind Core, and sure, they paid EXTREMELY well - as in, even-the-janitor-has-a-boat well - but they had one major issue: the kind of work they did, or rather, the nature of this work. Xenocorp paid extremely well because most of their real projects were extremely illegal - Alan should know, he was the lead scientist on Project Null and had seen A LOT of terrible, terrible things. He shuddered while remembering all the screams of the "resources" that went into other projects - it was why he ensured Project Null would be made as humanely as possible, unlike Dr. Slark who did things as HUMANLY as possible. Alan arrived before Mr. Marley''s office and checked himself in the mirror on the door - Mr. Marley did NOT appreciate a lack of self-care - and quickly combed his long silver hair while adjusting his round glasses on his youthful face - each the result of two very different experiments that went wrong, now no one could guess he was actually in his forties - before entering. "M-Mr. Marley?" As he entered the room, Alan couldn''t ignore the smell of smoke and barely managed to hide a cough. The office was really different from the rest of the facility, instead of the omnipresent white walls of a controlled environment walking into Marley''s office felt like entering a hunting cabin : wooden walls and furniture, animal rugs and heads - including endangered and extinct species, among which a triceratops and a dragon''s heads - and a lot of weapons and gold plating. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Mr. Marley himself fitted in neither the office nor the lab, he was your classic charismatic handsome businessman in a suit, the only noteworthy things about him being a tie made out of the golden wool of a Jasonian sheep and a light scar that ran horizontally under his bright green eyes, eyes which were currently staring at Alan, just above a friendly smile. "Ah, Dr. Leone, just in time. One of our investors just asked me about your progress on Project Null." This... Didn''t bode well for Alan. Not at all. "W-Well sir, there... There has been an incident..." Mr. Marley''s smile and friendly attitude dropped immediately. "Elaborate, Alan." "W-Well... You see... We underestimated its Will and..." "Alan." "Project Null escaped, sir." Marley deeply breathed in, closing his eyes, and then softly exhaled. "A shame. We will have to redistribute your team in other projects." On the one hand, Alan was glad he would get to live another day, on the other hand, he still felt incredibly guilty about the situation and did what could only be considered a stupid idea : he opened his mouth once more. "Shouldn''t we warn the Hero Union?" "Why? You mentioned that thing''s Will, so I''m guessing it burned through its own lifeforce to escape somehow - by the way, we will have you and your team review the security systems to see what failed in containing one of Xenocorp most costly projects." "Y-Yes b-but what if it survived? There would be a dangerous unsupervised bioweapon on the loose in the city, one specialized in shadows and-" "And it would be our fault. A very cost-heavy and ILLEGAL Xenocorp project escapes and threatens the city? Do you have any idea of the sorts of repercussions it would have on the public AND our sales? Besides, there would be investigations that would inevitably stumble upon our other projects. Project Null was one the most promising ones, true, but one failure WILL NOT bring down Xenocorp. We analyze, modify and prosper. Your failure will not cost us more than it already has. If you have a problem with that, I''m sure Project Thanatos could always use some more souls. Have I made myself clear, Alan?" "Yes... Yes sir..." "Good. You are free to go." As Alan turned around to leave the room, Marley interrupted him one more time. "Oh, Dr. Leone, one more thing." Alan stopped, his hand still on the doorknob, but did not dare to face his superior. "Considering your failures, Project Thanatos WILL get a treat. Choose the least valuable member of your team and notify management of your decision." "Yes sir." Alan left Marley''s office, glad to have survived but disappointed in his superior''s decisions, none the wiser to what would unfold.
James laid on the ground. He could hear his mugger running away, some kid who thought that James carried something worth killing for. Of course, he didn''t. He heard a loud sound and his mugger, apparently hearing it too, ran away as fast as he could. As James tried to breathe, a process made much harder thanks to the blood slowly filling his lungs, he felt another presence approaching. The beggar, he realized. They came closer to him and, once they saw him bleeding, quickly searched through his pockets and took his phone. It''s not like I was going to use it anymore anyway and honestly, I''d rather they have it than that kid... Then he realized what they were doing : they were calling the emergency number. He had trouble hearing at this point and his vision was slowly going away, yet he still had enough clarity to hear someone running this way and beginning to chase his savior, leading both individuals away from him. No, stop, they''re trying to help... James tried to move but failed. He let out an internal sigh - an external one being straight-up impossible at this point - and tried to focus on the starlit sky. Dying alone... But at least... It''s under a pretty sight... Slowly, James faded away. And on that night, a young man died.
What a pretty thing... The black mass - or Project Null - gazed upon the stars, visible through a hole in the clouds that made up the storm. It had never seen such beauty and took its time appreciating the sky as it slowly faded away, lying down next to a sewer inlet. It had never seen the world but it didn''t mind, for it got to be free. And on that night, a unique creature died.
Malania merrily sung in the void, enjoying the calm of the eternal darkness and the beauty of the far-away worlds, shining beacons in the distance. A mortal might have mistaken such a sight for a simple night, but a god - especially a god of death - saw so much more : the beauty of life and souls, dancing together in an unpredictable pattern... Aw, it never grew old. And neither did they - godhood had MANY benefits. No one would expect such a gentle song to come from a death deity and especially not from Malania, the strange skull-headed being with a jello-like body wearing white robes floating as though they were in the water. They weren''t the most famous god - in fact, the only people who knew about them were others deities, some historians and their followers. Which, for a god, is not a lot of people. Not that they cared, Malania worried more about the fate of mortals than their popularity. Which is why they heard them. Two souls sharing similar thoughts as they wandered in the void. Mortals sharing similar thoughts as they died wasn''t rare, but for a soul to stumble upon the void was a wholly different matter. As they approached those two lost souls they realized something was wrong with them : the first seemed to have slipped from the death cycle of their own world, wherever that was, only to end up here whereas the second seemed to have been artificially created, isolated from the world to the point it felt like the void was its true home. This wouldn''t do at all. Malania pondered about the course of action they should take. They could simply take both the souls in, offering them shelter at their side, but it wouldn''t feel right to deny the outsider the chance to see their loved ones again. They studied the two souls a little more and discovered the true nature of the artificial one. Such potential... I cannot revive it, but I could use their body as the other one''s vessel... But is it what he would want? Malania pondered some more before finally nodding to themselves. If he does not want this second chance, whether or not he realizes what he could do with it, he can simply end this new life himself... Yes, I will give him this chance. As for you, little one, I will take care of you. I''m sure you will make a lot of friends where you''ll be going...
On that night, James the human from Earth died. On that night, Project Null from Terra Stellis died. On that night, the entity the multiverse would come to know as Silhouette was born. Chapter 1 : Awakening James felt weak and wet. His mind was still groggy and he wasn''t exactly aware of his surroundings, but he still felt like he had just been run over by a truck and left on the side of the road in the middle of a storm. Which, truth be told, wasn''t completely inaccurate. He tried to get up or at least crawl away from the dirty puddle he appeared to be laying in but something felt wrong with his limbs. He tried to focus on his surroundings to see where he was and what could be the problem when suddenly, it clicked. It wasn''t quite like sight, no, it was... Something greater, more complete. He perceived the world all around him at once through all of his senses, except touch and taste, and did so in a way that was much, much more defined than he ever did as a human. This last point, in particular, helped pull him out of his groggy state. His body was definitely NOT human anymore, which would explain the new senses and the difficulty to move around like he used to, especially considering what his body was made of : some kind of pitch-black sludge, so dark he would probably have trouble seeing more than a just a blob-shaped silhouette were it not for his new senses, one of which suddenly proved itself TOO effective : his sense of smell. He appeared to be in some kind of sewer, judging by the stench, the lack of light - which did not impede his new vision - the green yellowish bricks on the walls and floor arranged in arcs and covered in tags and graffitis and, most importantly, the massive canal filled with waste and rubbish that seemed to go on into infinity, the only source of light being what seemed to be a sewer inlet above him, dropping even more water into the canal. This... Doesn''t bode well. Okay, stay calm, focus, and analyze the situation. For a few seconds, the world seemed calm and peaceful, as though time was paused, the only evidence that it was still ongoing being the sound of running water. Then came the screeching. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MEEEEE?!!! For a solid minute, hellish sounds that many would have described as being the result of a banshee being burned and drowned in acid while being electrocuted all at the same time echoed across the tunnel, escaping from the sewers to the surface through the inlets. The locals'' reaction on the surface to these sounds was pretty simple: the initial surprise of hearing some random screaming at dawn, the short curiosity about what kind of creature could possibly make these sounds and, ultimately, sheer and utter indifference. WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BODYYYYY?!!! No one was stupid enough to hang around a dark alley in the slums, especially after a storm like the one that raged the night before, therefore the people closest to James merely treated his screeching as just more background noise. Sure, Heroes, Vigilantes and even some Villains patrolled around the city to keep things peaceful, but no one - at least no one sane - tried to do that in the slums. No, it was much easier to keep them contained and to treat them as some kind of independent area in the city. It was, objectively, a reasonable strategy : it was much more likely for something to leave the slums and cause trouble in the city than the opposite. THIS DOESN''T MAKE ANY SENSEEEEE !!! As such, James got to scream out to his heart''s content, the slum dwellers ignored him as they went about their day - after all, why care about some random monster dying in a ditch when a man-eating lizardman or bored Cored thug could suddenly snatch them up and tear their limbs off? When the world was out to get you, you didn''t have the luxury to care about others. What am I... Going to... To do? When James finally calmed down, he was mentally exhausted - which, for a being conscious for barely a minute since its rebirth, was quite the feat - and was panting even in his own thoughts. Okay, got... Got all of that out of my system. I''ll be able to focus on survival without the threat of a mental breakdown for a while. By the way, no reaction to the demonic screeching? James listened to his surroundings for a moment, his only companion being the trickling of water. Okay, either no one heard - unlikely in the middle of a city - or no one cares. People are stupid, I''m sure someone would have come by to check on what was screaming if only to film it or out of morbid - and most probably fatal - curiosity. He sighed, his initial panic and confusion would not cost him his life - or whatever it was now. So, screaming implies that I can produce sound but I don''t think vantablack blobs of despair have vocals chords, so was it magic, some kind of slime vibration, or maybe instinctive shapeshifting? He bobbled up and down while emitting a sound that could be described as some sort of sigh. So, moving around like this is not impossible but... Weird. Losing my limbs is... Quite the experience, to be polite. So, let''s try to move some more, maybe something more complex than some up and down. James focused all of his willpower on trying to understand his new motor functions, something that quickly showed results. He soon began to move his black sludge-like body forward, like some kind of slug but at a slightly faster pace than the gastropod''s. As he moved forward, he slowly began to grow small tentacles on his "back" that began to wave and curl in the air. Okay, I can grow tentacles now. Okay. Those are limbs. Limbs are good. Let''s try something less cephalopod-like. He stopped crawling and retracted his tentacles before curling in himself, his body going from being sludge-like to something akin to a latex ball. Then, he began to grow four tentacles and used them as legs to wamble forth. His gait was clumsy at first but as he took more and more steps it turned into something more effective. Sure, it looked weird, but it was undeniably effective, his speed going from being slightly faster than a slug to reaching a regular human''s walking speed. The speed at which he got used to this new body was... Suspiciously fast. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Okay, note to self: the tentacles behave like a real octopus'' and have some kind of auto-pilot, which is really useful right now but I should really watch out in case they ever get funny ideas and start messing around with stuff I don''t want them to. As for the legs, they seem to work just fine so far so let''s try something a bit more... Bipedal. James put an end to his wobbly gait and stayed still. Slowly, his spherical body began to lengthen and curve, developing some kind of bean-like shape, before slowly rising. He had to take a few steps forward in the process to stay balanced and to avoid falling, his legtacles'' tips widening and flattening as he grew taller and taller. In the end, he managed to take on a bipedal form, a very hunched and wanky one with ridiculously long armtacles compared to the rest of the body but it was still a first step toward James'' true goal: a humanoid form. He assessed his weird body, noting how it could probably be used as some kind of low-level monster in a video game, and chose to stay consistent with his behavior so far: test out the form''s movements before trying to modify it. However, this time an issue showed up: walking with a wobbly body without joints was fine when his center of gravity was close to the ground but, now that it was much higher, he had trouble keeping his balance. James focused on his "feet" and willed them to widen even more but it simply wasn''t enough. After another try at modifying his body to improve his balance - shortening his arms so they wouldn''t flop around as much as they currently did - he tripped on an uneven brick on the ground and fell down. As soon as his face-torso impacted the cold wet stones, his body simply melted into some kind of slime puddle before quickly reforming itself into his sludge shape. That... Was not expected. I''ll definitely have to experiment a bit more with that, it could make a very nasty trick - plus possible fall damage immunity. But I didn''t think I could turn into something so... Liquidy. I know I turned somewhat more solid to experiment with the shapeshifting thing but I thought it was closer to tensing my muscles, like an on/off thing, but this... Can I change my consistency at will? Thus, the experimenting continued. James took on his quadrupedal form once more - he''d probably have to name it at some point, considering it was the only effective one so far - and began to change his consistency rather than his shape. First, he tried becoming even more solid. It felt more and more like he was actually made of flesh again instead of whatever black goop he was now, until it went even further beyond, going from flesh to bone; from bone to stone, from stone to metal, and from metal to something... More. In the process, James also realized he could apply these changes on different spots on his body, instinctively doing so to keep some range of motion - becoming hard as a rock wasn''t really that great if you couldn''t move, after all. Throughout the whole experience, James felt... Weird. Being in his slimy body was unnatural for him but it was normal to actually move with it, whereas being solid felt more... Limited? Uncomfortable? It felt like he was walking around in full plate armor with infinite stamina - sure, he didn''t grow exhausted, but even the slightest of movements felt heavy and restricted. Yes, that was it: being solid was restrictive, and the more solid he got the worse it felt. In fact, he couldn''t hold those harder states for long, the best he could stay in without it taking a conscious effort was the flesh one and some of the bone one. Not great, but enough to upgrade his bipedal form once he was done with the consistency experiment. Done with the solid, James tried the opposite, liquid. It was perfectly logical after all, wasn''t slime, goop, muck or whatever it is you want to call it merely the perfect balance of solid and liquid? It was weird at first: if solid was tensing his muscles, would liquid be relaxing? It turned out that no, it wasn''t: relaxing meant turning back into sludge apparently. Good to know. Guess spas are out of the picture. Would they even have allowed creepy holes in reality to be their clients? I would have to buy my own jacuzzi. I mean, judging by how many wet things I''ve interacted with since I''ve come here I probably wouldn''t dissolve in water, right? He glanced at the main canal in the middle of the tunnel, staring at the murky water in which some unidentifiable object bobbed up and down from time to time for a few seconds. I''m not testing that in this filth. Nope. Back to trying to be a puddle. It turned out that, rather than being a tense/relaxed thing, his transformative abilities were closer to being some kind of internal slider with the sludge form being the middle ground. Knowing that, James began to "flex" his "muscles" the opposite way - and yes, it felt really weird at first - and slowly became less and less viscous until, finally, he had turned into a perfect puddle - which, considering the fact he was pitch black, looked more like a bottomless hole leading straight into the void than an actual puddle of liquid. And, as you would expect, being a liquid was a strange experience. If being a solid felt like wearing some kind of full plate armor then being a liquid felt like being at the bottom of the ocean. Oh, he didn''t have any trouble breathing, he just felt some sort of pressure on him and moving was extremely slow. Yes, he could move as a liquid. It was slower than normal - though faster than as a sludge-slug - and more clumsy than he would like but it was possible. As he became more viscous during his transition to returning to normal, James he could use a more liquidy foot than his regular sludge one to slide much faster than before as a slug. Good to know. So, that''s the basics of solid and liquid done... That''s two states of matter out of three - I know there are more but let''s stick to the basics. I wonder, couldn''t I... Something moved in the water. Don''t tell me... An enormous scarred crocodile the size of a bus jumped out of the canal, some kind of massive catfish the size of a car caught in its jaws. The crocodile appeared to be covered in more scars than scales, to the point it could have been confused for a dirty albino from afar, its eyes were even bloodshot enough they seemed naturally red. It seemed to be missing its front right leg, apparently mauled away by something long ago. The catfish, on the other hand, was merely stupidly ugly and large. The reptile then bashed the struggling fish on the tunnel walls until it stopped moving and returned to the water, tearing it to pieces with a death roll, spraying dirty water everywhere as though it was in a frenzy. It suddenly stopped and looked around. Its gaze wandered until it settled on something on the ground. Maybe a normal crocodile - at least a non-saltwater one - would have been too small to see above the edge of pathways surrounding the canal but this one had no such trouble, at least after raising its head a little. It looked at the pitch-black puddle on the ground and scoffed. As it returned beneath the water, it purposefully sent a massive splash on the black puddle. Silence reigned in the tunnel for a few minutes before the black puddle raised from the ground and turned into a ball walking around on four tentacles. Okay, things to note : I do not dissolve in water, I thankfully have no sense of taste so far, turning into a black puddle is NOT a good camouflage, there are giant crocodiles and fish in the sewers and that thing CLEARLY knew I was here, it just didn''t bother eating me. What is the logical deduction from all that? I need to find a place to hide, ideally far, far away from the water. And so James stumbled forth, experimenting on his quadrupedal form on the way to improve its abilities. He didn''t know that what he would find would become something much greater than a simple shelter or that this wouldn''t be his last encounter with the ruler of the sewer canals in the area, The Marked. Chapter 2 : Of rats and holes A strange black ball with four legs was walking around in the sewers. Had you said this to any inhabitant of Zalcien, they would have shrugged before going with their day. Had you told this to James a few days ago, he would have assumed you were joking or needed some relaxation, maybe even medication. To think that now he WAS the weird ball with tentacles. Yes, it had already been a day or so since his encounter with The Marked. Despite not knowing the name of the creature and never having heard any of the stories surrounding it, he had no trouble guessing it was probably the local apex predator - understandably so, there weren''t that many things more dangerous than a bus-sized crocodile in the sewers, at least he hoped. During that time, James realized he hadn''t felt the need to sleep - whether this meant he was simply more endurant now or that he straight would never need to sleep anymore was yet to be seen. He had been spared from hunger too - something for which he was very thankful since he was stuck in the sewers. Technically he could simply walk on the wall - something he had realized he could do by making his feet stickier - and simply go out via the first sewer inlet he could find but he couldn''t help but fear what he would find on the other side - humans that would see him as a monster or monsters that would see him as a pest? Both could very well mean his doom. Besides, he didn''t feel comfortable leaving the sewers without a better understanding of what he was now. What if his body acted like acid on organic materials? What if it messed with his instincts somehow? What if he needed to run or hide? He definitely had to get a hold of himself before attempting any surface delving. Through experiments on his shapeshifting powers he had perfected his quadrupedal form - he had even nicknamed it "Skitter". Now he had actual legs instead of tentacles, the top part was still jelly-like to allow for more ease of movement but the bottom part grew more and more solid as it went on and ended in a little bone-hard spike, perfect to avoid slipping in wet environments - like, say, sewers. In the same train of thought James had decided to put a little "core" in his body, a solid ball the size of an apple - which he thought was fitting for a football-sized body - that acted as a skull and a ribcage all at once - it served no actual protective purpose but instead helped him stay balanced. He sadly hadn''t had the time to mess around more with his gas idea. Experimenting with such a major change in the state of his body would need him to stay still for a while and, as his crocodile encounter had proven, the sewers weren''t safe, and doing nothing for a long period of time was probably just asking to get attacked by something. He was currently looking out for a place to call his home, at least until he learned as much as possible about his new body. Who knows, maybe he would find out HOW he turned into this. Sure, now that he had had time to clear his thoughts away from how weird everything around him was now he remembered what happened. He remembered the pizzeria, the beggar, the mugger- The pain of being stabbed, the feeling of the cold metal inside his flesh, his blood slowly drowning him- Stay calm, it''s over. It''s over. It''s okay now. Unsurprisingly death was a little... Traumatic. James was pretty sure he would need some kind of therapy at some point but hey, that was a problem for another day. Procrastination was probably the best coping mechanism he would find down there in the sewers. It wasn''t the first time he had done this song and dance, although his initial screaming session had helped him release some existential angst it simply slowly slithered back into his head when he was alone with his thoughts, free from all distractions, forced to confront reality, that his family- James heard squeaking in the distance. So far, apart from his encounter with The Marked and its prey, the only living things he had seen in the tunnels were just cockroaches, admittedly very big ones that were easily the size of rodents but still, simply cockroaches. They hadn''t been aggressive and even avoided him whenever he passed by. The only time one of them had been bold and tried to approach him, another one pulled it back towards the group. Therefore, hearing what appeared to be rats or mice nearby would be a nice change of pace. Sure, maybe they would be aggressive or infected by something but honestly, at this point, James just wanted to see something other than seemingly infinite sewers tunnels, dirty water, and the occasional cockroach nest. Still, he wasn''t going to run blindly towards these rats - it would be stupid. If random videos online had taught him anything it was that sewer rats were NOT to be underestimated and could take down things much bigger than themselves, and judging by the fact there was a full-blown bus-sized crocodile around it wouldn''t be uncalled for to think the local rats could also be a bit more... Extreme than normal. As he approached the source of the noise, James noticed it didn''t come from the main tunnel - in which he had stayed so far - but rather a much smaller one on the side, barely noticeable. As he approached it, he noticed it was barely wider than his shoulders used to be - even as he was now he felt cramped due to the width of his Skitter form, mostly due to how spread his legs had to be to maneuver correctly. Giant rats are probably out of the picture then, though really big ones are still on the list. James entered the tunnel, the further he went in the more it felt like he was in a completely different place than the sewers: grey, dry and cracking bricks instead of the wet yellowish-green ones, a low flat ceiling as opposed to the high curved one in the main tunnel and, finally, absolutely no water. Even the smell of waste had been replaced by simply dry air. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. It didn''t take long for James to find his way to the rats'' nest, it was a simple hole in the wall, a place where the bricks had been slowly dug through until they started to fall. The sound of squeaking intensified as he got closer and closer and it was only now that James realized he definitely wouldn''t have been able to hear the rats'' screams from the tunnels had he still been in his human body. James peeked inside the hole from the side, forming a small tentacle and letting it slither in from the wall, and saw something he definitely hadn''t expected. It appeared that a small family of rats lived here, a mother, her five children - old enough to have fur and opened eyes but still clearly too young to survive on their own - and a father, currently a corpse impaled on the leg of a mechanical spider. THAT was the unexpected part. Its silvery body was a bit smaller than James'' black one and it had yet to notice him, its singular glowing red eye currently focused on the baby rats and their mother who was currently screeching at the robot, something that was clearly ineffective considering the fact that she was already covered in wounds and bleeding profusely. Now, James understood that it was partially a human''s prey instincts that encouraged them to empathize with prey rather than predators in hunting scenarios. As a kid he had once chased away his own cat from a mouse it was playing with, for example. Overall, people only cheered for the hunter when it was a mammal whereas its prey was not. There were exceptions, of course, such as snake keepers, but most of the time humans sided with the prey. But James wasn''t human now. He dreaded the idea but it was undeniable. And, considering how easily he had messed around with shapeshifting, his new body came with new instincts. And, considering the fact this clearly wasn''t the best day of his life, he probably wouldn''t have been in the mood to save some sewers rats from a feral or abandoned cat. But this? This was unnatural. This wasn''t another example of the food chain. This was a machine specifically designed to kill and it had been sent to hunt down rats in the sewers, rats that lived in a hole in the middle of nowhere. This was unfair. This was unfair. This was unfair- James pounced on the spider, taking it by surprise. The rats'' nest was too small for it to maneuver to the best of its abilities and it was currently having trouble turning around. James, meanwhile, wrapped himself around the thing''s limbs, further incapacitating it, and began to stab it repeatedly in-between the plates of its cold mechanical body with the hardened tips of his legs. The spider began to screech - what use a robotic spider could have for emitting sounds James had no idea - and thrash around, trying to throw James off of it. Unfortunately for it, James had partially liquified his body around it, pouring himself in the gaps he wasn''t currently stabbing before solidifying again inside of them, effectively gluing himself to his mechanical opponent with no chance of escape and limiting its movements even further while he was at it. At that point, the robot couldn''t even move anymore. Sure, it was still active and functional and as damaged as you would expect a car to be after stabbing it with a chicken bone, but it clearly had no way to deal with something like James. Its singular eye tried to turn around and examine the current threat, glowing with programmed rage, and thus accidentally gave James an idea on how to "easily" break that thing. He put more of his liquified self on the spider''s "head" - or at least the movable part surrounding the eye that was currently trying to turn around - and poured it in the gap that allowed this very movement before solidifying it again, making it as hard as steel, and just "pulled" upwards, effectively decapitating the robot. Its legs went into a frenzy for a second or two before suddenly going limp. A few sparks flew off here and there but, overall, it seemed the mechanical menace was now out of service. James had to take a few seconds to calm down. He wasn''t actually pumped full of adrenaline or even remotely exhausted but his mind... He needed a break. When his head was clear enough to focus, he looked around the nest and analyzed the situation. The rat father was dead, probably had been before James even came inside, the babies were shaken but healthy, and the mother... She didn''t have much more time to live. In fact, he could already sense her slowly cooling down. The babies were currently nudging their mother, trying to help her as best as they could, forming a living blanket to keep her warm. Alas, warmth couldn''t heal several lethal wounds or replace vast quantities of blood. Leaving the rats to their mourning, James studied the mechanical spider. He had absolutely no knowledge of electronics or robotics, so he didn''t learn much, but the design of the robot''s body and the way the different pieces worked together gave him a few ideas for future upgrades of his Skitter form, at least if he could find a way to stay hard for long periods. He found out why it had been hunting rats: in the thing''s abdomen, instead of web-weaving organs, it had a storage compartment filled with bodies of rats, mice, and even a few cockroaches. As he pondered about the possible uses that the bodies of pests could have, James felt something furry rub against his leg. As he zoned back in, he saw that the rat babies were still mourning their mother except for one. The runt of the litter was banging its head on his leg, James wasn''t sure if it was trying to scare him away or thank him for killing the spider. He... Really didn''t know how to feel about that. There was no need for him to involve himself any further. Destroying the robot and saving these baby rats was already really nice of him, he had no obligation or reason to help them any further. Still, babies without adult supervision would quickly die. Why save them if it''s just to let them die afterward, right? They reminded James of himself, in a way. Everything they had ever known had been torn away from them forever in such an unfair way. Unable to fight back, not even a chance to escape. Just a sudden attack with no warning. Like his death. Slowly, James took a dead cockroach out of the spider''s compartment, morphing one of his tentacles'' tip into a rudimentary hand, and put it next to the rats. They ignored it at first, even the runt preferred to keep hitting James'' leg with his head rather than eat, but as the minutes and, ultimately, hours passed, they eventually began to nibble at the cockroach before taking larger bites. James watched over them, training his shifting speed by creating a tentacle and changing what type of tip it had all the while. When he thought about it, this hole could make a decent place to hide, at least for now. He could expand it a bit by digging, he could always improvise a shovel - maybe even a drill if he trained hard enough - after all. Yes, he could turn this place into a nice home away from home, the best there would ever be down here in the sewers. If he could watch over the growth of five rats and provide some basic education at the same time, why shouldn''t he? And so, as a ball of darkness with legs watched over five recently orphaned rats eating a dead cockroach, two individuals in a dark basement discussed.
"Ah, we have a missing small Collector unit." "Where was it?" "Its last transmitted location was in the sewers under the slums." "Bah, don''t bother. It''s probably alligator chew by now. Honestly, why bother sending there? There''s The Marked, those giant catfish, The Blind and don''t get me started on The Horror." "We''re paid to obey, not complain or question the boss. So, what do I say in the report?" "Like I said : the slums'' sewers are NOT a place for the Collectors. Tell them The Marked is the most likely cause of destruction, that thing hates the boss." James would stay hidden, unknown to all, once more. For now. Chapter 3 : Gas, shadows and parenting "David, leave your brother alone. Goliath, I know you''re afraid of hurting him but you have to defend yourself. And girls, stop laughing at your brother when he is uncomfortable." It had been two days now since James had found this little hole in the middle of nowhere and had turned it into his home. Two days since he had saved the ratlings and had begun to raise them. Leaving their parents'' bodies would be unsanitary so he had buried them further down the small tunnel. The other rodents'' corpses, those that had been stored in the mechanical spider, had been thrown in the canal. James didn''t have the time - nor cared enough - to bury them too and, as far as he knew, cannibalism was an unhealthy behavior even for rats. He had chosen to keep the robot in the hole, he might have not understood how it worked but it was clearly valuable and he could always find some use for it, in fact, even now it worked as food storage for the babies, currently filled with cockroaches. It was currently on the side of the nest, its legs curled up so that it took as little space as possible. For his own sanity, James had decided to name the rats, both to make it easier to differentiate them and also to forget the fact that he wasn''t babysitting some kids but instead a litter of feral sewer rats. Somehow, like he had been able to know which parent was the mother and which was the father, once he had bothered to focus hard enough he could tell which babies were male and which were female. The youngest, the runt of the litter, and most importantly the aggressive little gremlin that always found a way to put himself in trouble had been named David, the perfect opposite of Goliath, the oldest, biggest, and calmest of the babies. The girls were all roughly the same size, Lucille was a light grey instead of her siblings'' darker shade, Blanche was an albino and Foudre had a crooked tail, giving it a lightning bolt shape. The three generally stayed together and laughed at the brothers'' antics - or ganged up on David whenever he had the bright idea to try messing with them. And yes, rats laugh. James had read about it online but, as far as he knew, it was only as a response to tickling. Apparently, the rats here had a better understanding of humor. James had increased the size of the nest, before he could barely fit inside along with the spider whereas now it was easily three times his width and height in Skitter form. Of course, he knew that rats preferred small spaces and had dug small tunnels on the right side of the nest. Apparently, they thought he hadn''t done a good enough job and took it upon themselves to expand them. Digging had been surprisingly easy for James. Sure, he had planned to make "shovels" and "pickaxes" with his tentacles but, since they were only as strong as bone, he thought they would be shoddy at best. Turns out, either these were really weak bricks - a real possibility considering the fact that the walls seemed to be made out of solid dust rather than stone - or he was much, much stronger than he thought. He couldn''t deny that his new body was full of surprises. He had ripped the robot''s head off with such ease it hadn''t even registered at first. He picked up on a lot of subtilities of his shapeshifting powers so although he was still a regular human a few days ago. Hell, he now spent most of his time as some sort of quadrupedal ball of darkness and it didn''t feel wrong. Were his human instincts replaced with the ones of whatever he had become? Could his personality be affected too? "SQUEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK !" James glanced at the rat siblings and smiled - internally. David had, once again, attempted to throw his weight around his sisters and, once again, they had piled on him and were showing him the errors of his ways through a substantial amount of bites and scratches. Ah, youth. Whatever he was now, it clearly had not taken away his humanity, his ability to do good, to like, to be kind, to love, to care. Watching the ratlings play had reminded him that he needed to experiment some more - there was always science to be done, after all - and he should take advantage of the fact that they didn''t need him right now. He had figured out a way to replicate vocal cords, maybe he could recreate his human body if given enough time? In the meantime, he was still curious about his gas idea and, as such, decided to start things out with that. If solid and liquid had been left and right, wouldn''t gas be up? James "flexed" his "shifting muscles" that way and he instantly felt something change. He was lighter. He pushed the process further and further until he felt like he couldn''t anymore, which was logical considering the fact he was now some sort of haze. Unsurprisingly his gas form was pitch black too, despite the laws of physics dictating that lighter gas had lower density and thus, lower opacity. Oh well, he was way past the point of worrying over how realistic or logical his new life was. If moving as a solid was like wearing plate armor and moving as a liquid was like walking underwater, then moving as a gas was like moving in space - technically easy, at least as long as you had good balance and surfaces to push yourself from to give you some momentum and control your direction. The rats spared a glance at him before resuming their game - they had seen him shapeshift so many times they weren''t phased any more. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He then experimented with his weight, his density, and how he could incorporate his solid and liquid forms in his gas one and vice-versa. He could now condense, vaporize, freeze, melt, deposite and sublimate. He attempted to reach the Triple point - the point at which a material was all three states of matter at once - but simply couldn''t imitate the change in pressure necessary for it to work. A shame. Though a thought was now nagging at his mind. His shapeshifting had allowed him to change the state of his matter and somehow stay in control of his body. He had gone through all three states of matter with ease, suspiciously so but it wasn''t the point right now. He had "flexed" his shifting toward solid, liquid, and gas, but what if, instead of a triangle of matter, his shifting was closer to an x-y axis? He had gone left, right, and up but what about down? What could be on the other hand of gas? So down he went, closer and closer to the ground. He became puddle-like for a second but then went even further than that. He was one with the floor. It was... Strange. It felt like he was some kind... Some kind of shadow. Yes, that was the right word. He had somehow become a living shadow. In this form shapeshifting was even easier, he could be a one-man shadow puppet show. He turned into a bird, a tree, a dragon- and then a man. Having hands and feet once again was pleasant but... That was it. It didn''t feel any better than being in his Skitter form. Maybe because he was stuck in a 2D form? Flat hands didn''t feel as good as regular ones, for sure. Being a shadow surprisingly unlocked another aspect of his shapeshifting: opacity. It only worked when he was a shadow, maybe because it would allow him to slip undetected, a somewhat transparent shadow being more natural and less eye-catching than a pitch-black one? Whatever the case may be, this changed... A lot of things. So far, James had seen - and done - things that broke the laws of logic and physics, but there was always something somewhat "real". Going from solid to liquid to gas so easily was strange, yes, but the fact that matter could change state was normal. This? An entity simply didn''t become the result of an obstruction between the world and light, "shadows" weren''t matter, they were an alteration to the propagation of light. This, combined with his reincarnation, seemed to indicate that, wherever he was, abilities that defied common sense were real - or maybe it was exclusive to him but that seemed very unlikely. In other words, giant crocodiles may not be the worst things roaming in the sewers. Moving as a shadow was eerily easy. He felt incredibly light but still in control, in fact, he felt more in control of his movements than he ever did as a human. The only downside was the fact that he was limited to a 2D plane, if he wanted to go from a wall to another he had to either pass on the floor or the ceiling or he had to exit his shadow mode to directly go to the other wall. His gas form had been surprisingly effective in this situation, it appeared that going from shadow to gas carried a momentum that made crossing the distance quick and simple. This garnered the rats'' attention. Weird shapeshifting had become par for the course but this? This was different. To them, it was as though James had simply always been walking and they were now seeing him run for the first time. They were mesmerized. What if, one day, they too could do this? Blissfully unaware of the new awe that had just been born in his prot¨¦g¨¦s'' hearts, James suddenly had a bright idea. Shadows seemed to be the easiest way to move but were limited to a 2D plane, so what if he only used them as a foot? First, he turned into a blob, which was usual so far. Then, he turned a small part of him into shadows, gluing the blob to the ground. Then, he moved. He was much quicker than even his Skitter form, hell, he was probably faster than he had ever been as a human. Yes, he could go beyond a human''s running pace. Maybe he could go as fast as a bike if he really pushed himself? But now wasn''t the time for speed - and honestly, in this small nest, it wouldn''t be a good idea. And so James began to change once more, the blob getting taller and taller until it was twice the height of his Skitter form. Then, two small nubs grew out of the sides, elongating to turn into noodly arms, the bottom of each one inflating to end in a roughly ball-shaped bulb. The figure turned more precise, thinning near the top, widening at the shoulders, the noodly arms solidifying, and the bulbs dividing into multiple thin appendages. When it was all over, James looked like a small pitch-black humanoid creature stuck in the ground at the waist. James rolled his head to work out the non-existent kinks in his neck, cracked his knuckles - oh how he had missed them - and tested out how comfortable this form was. Being somewhat humanoid was pleasant, though he slowly made himself "softer" and more flexible than a regular human should be. He had gotten a bit too used to his Skitter form apparently. Once more the rats were intrigued. They had never seen anything human-shaped and so James'' new body was a brand new experience. His new hands quickly found a task to do: rat tickling and cuddling. A few tentacles helped solve the problem of two hands for five rats. The nest was filled with ratty - and human? - laughter for a solid minute. James decided that now was the time to go even further. He put his hands on the floor and lifted himself up, a humanoid lower body emerging from the ground. Then he hit his head on the ceiling. Ouch. Definitely have to expand the nest... Again. Might as well go fully human-sized this time. He shrunk a bit - all it took was condensing his body - before testing out his range of movement once more. It all seemed fine, he was as flexible as usual, but quickly a problem appeared: walking. His shadow-glue didn''t work with regular walking, emerging from the shadows carried a momentum if he was too quick, making him lose his balance, and if he took too long, well... It just looked like he was walking around while wearing metal boots. Yep, bipedal is proving itself to be a pain once more... Guess I''ll have to wait until I get a better hang at the whole shape-shifting thing. I still have trouble with managing details and more defined forms just take so much time to make. Still, it was a step - eh - in the right direction and he was sure that very, very soon, he would finally find a way to feel somewhat human. For now, he went back to only having a humanoid torso and head, it just felt too weird to just have arms hanging around and doing nothing after getting so used to all his appendages constantly doing something. Of course, he didn''t know that, with time, he would improve upon this head-on-a-torso-emerging-from-the-ground form, and, that one day, it would become a face know throughout the worlds. A face feared and respected among the Super community. The face of Silhouette. "DAVID! STOP BITING YOUR BROTHER''S TAIL! LUCILLE! BLANCHE! FOUDRE! DO SOMETHING!" It... Wasn''t for today. Chapter 4 : Shadowy home and Bloody thugs "Squeak." "Lucille, don''t." "Squeak." "I''m sorry but, unlike you, I need a large living space to feel comfortable." "Squeak." "Ok, I admit I didn''t anticipate this result, but can you blame me? I''m not an architect!" James had merrily spent the last few hours digging at the walls of the nest to expand it, keeping the entry hole small for now - the only residents being a goopy shapeshifter and five young rats, there was no need for a bigger entrance - but digging down to level the floor of the nest with the rest of the sewers. Of course, digging all willy-nilly as he had, James had overlooked a very important detail : support. Sometime after he had begun to dig upward to make the ceiling higher - which would allow him to stand at his regular human height - the nest, which had now become a small cave, collapsed. It was obvious in hindsight. The tunnels in this area were in such a bad condition, digging through the bricks had been too easy and, of course, most underground structures required some sort of support pillars. Luckily the rats, James, and even the now deactivated mechanical spider had been spared from the rubble. Well, technically it did fall on James but the impact merely squished him into his puddle form, he had just had to become a shadow and slip under all the fallen stone to go back at the entrance where he emerged with no problem - aside from a judgemental rat who was not amused. "I just... I just have to clean the rubble and it''ll all be ok!" "Squeak." "Of course I have no idea what I''m doing, do I like some kind of cave dweller?" "Sque-" "Don''t." James stretched his back, twisted his body left and right, and rolled his neck before approaching the mess of fallen stone before him. He "kneeled" and formed a single arm to pick up a small rock among the rubble. As he straightened back up he held the rock close to his face, wondering how he could solve this predicament. "I can''t just throw all of this away in the sewers, not only would this much rock probably cause some issues in the canal but I would also need to expand the entrance to make some of those fit..." James formed a small tentacle to rub his chin as he pondered. Could I just put it all back on the walls and ceiling? I would need some kind of very strong glue, but couldn''t I improvise something? I started out as some sort of slug, didn''t I? James focused on the rock in his hand and tried to will his body onto it, which resulted in his fingers fusing to form a ball around the rock. This... isn''t what I planned. Maybe instead of thinking of my body, I should think of its properties? He tried once more and failed again. This time nothing happened at all. Maybe this isn''t the right state to do this? He attempted the operation once more, first with a full solid body, then a fully liquid one, then a fully gas one, then with different mixes of the different states, and yet, the result was always the same : sheer and utter failure Ok, only one last thing to try... I don''t know how shadows could do this but, since it''s my most "magical" ability, it could find some way to work, right? Back in his spooky humanoid form, James stared at the rock in his hand as he willed his flesh on the surface of the palm to become shadows and used them to envelop the rock. He now had a rock fully covered in darkness, which wasn''t exactly what he wanted. Now, how could I turn this shadowy membrane into some sort of permanent glue? Maybe I could- "SQUEAK!" Surprised, James instinctively clutched his hand as he turned around. "DAVID!" The little trouble maker had apparently attempted - again - to enforce his authority upon his sisters and, once more, they had ganged up on him and were reminding him that, alone against three, there wasn''t much he could do. James sighed and shook his head. He really had to train to get used to his new sensing "domain". He was so used to regular human sight that he often overlooked things that he should be able to perceive but didn''t because he was focused on one spot. Oh well, he would deal with it another day. Right now he was experimenting with- Oh no, the rock! James focused on the rock and... Well... Something had definitely happened. The rock, even once freed from James'' shadowy grasp, was much, MUCH darker than before, going from a light grey to a light black or very dark blue. It even seemed to be of better quality now, gone was the dusty brick, it was now some kind of simili-marble. But THIS, this was only the external changes. James could feel it. That thing definitely wasn''t a simple rock anymore. It was... More. Not only was it much stronger now, but he could also vaguely sense things in a small perimeter around the rock. He tried to get further away but it didn''t seem to affect this new sensing property of the rock. Then he had a crazy idea : if he could sense via the rock, could he act through it? He tried and, somehow, it worked. He could manifest a small tentacle from the modified rock. It was clumsier than if it had actually been part of his body but this was already incredible. With this, I could improvise a very nice security system... But it would still be limited, the perception isn''t that great compared to a camera and, if stuff like ME can exist, things that can bypass my tentacles - whether because of strength, agility, or whatever - are probably around too. Hell, there''s already that giant crocodile. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. James shuddered as he remembered his encounter with that giant scarred crocodile - even now the oversized reptile would probably defeat him with no issue if they met. James shook his head to chase that thought away and came back to the matter at hand. But yeah, apparently the trick was forcing the shadows into it. But I don''t think it consumed any of those made out of my body, so what shadow did it use? Regular shadows wouldn''t work, right? They did actually. James tried a few more times and the result was always the same : he just had to envelop what he wanted to alter with his own shadows and then, with a small push, he could infuse the surroundings shadows into it. The best part? There technically wasn''t any light in this part of the sewers and therefore, he had an endless supply of darkness. Brick by brick, stone by stone, and cloud of dust by cloud of dust, soon all of the rubble within the nest had been infused with shadows. It was still a massive pile of rubble in the middle of the room though. Ok, everything''s been shadowed. Now what? Maybe... If I can create tentacles out of shadowed stuff, maybe I could fuse it together somehow? James flared his Will and tentacles, slime and strings emerged from each piece of the rubble, slithering among each other, blocks of fallen stone, broken bricks, and piles of dust began to levitate - or rather gave the illusion they did, in truth they were suspended to the surrounding darkness by small threads - and to form links connecting them all as they slowly "floated" back to their original places - all of which occurred under the awed gaze of five small rodents. A slight issue arose, however : the shadowed stone fused with itself without any trouble but it wasn''t the case with regular stone. James hurriedly infused every exposed part of the room with shadows, letting the darkness surround each brick through cracks and holes, and the rubble finally connected with the walls and ceiling of the nest. The process had been surprisingly silent and, now that it was all over, did not leave any trace - aside from the newly darkened and improved material. Truly, no onlooker could ever guess that this room had once been victim to a collapse - and, thanks to the newly upgraded stone, there was no need for support pillars of any sort to ensure none would happen again. Truly a solely beneficial scenario. The nest was now a large single room, as high as a human and a half and as wide and long as a bus'' length. Every surface was made of bricks of black marble - or at least looked like they were - and the ceiling was curved, giving it somewhat of a dome-like shape. "See Lucille? I dealt with it. I cleaned it all up and now everything is even better." The small rat at James'' feet looked up to his not-quite-a-face and glared. "Squeak." "Me not knowing any of this would happen beforehand doesn''t matter if it all turns out fine in the end." Her stare grew harsher. "Squeak." James held his ground for a second, a brave and incredible second... Before ultimately sighing and lowering his "shoulders". "I know, it''s just a worthless excuse, but cut me some slack, ok? I never had to do any of that as a pizza delivery boy. I didn''t have to dig my own home - especially underground - or deal with any of the wonky magic stuff I seem to be able to do." The small rat climbed up his weird body - she was surprisingly agile for her age and, thankfully, James'' body was solid enough for her to climb - and came to a stop at his shoulders, where she sat upon one before patting his back. "Am I going insane due to isolation or are you way too smart and humane for a rat? And you''re not even an adult yet." Lucille squeaked and shrugged before climbing down to nibble on one of the dead cockroaches stored in the robot spider. This one, in particular, had a peculiar feature - aside from a cartoonishly radioactive green glow that one out of ten cockroaches down there had apparently : its antennae had, for some reason, turned into a pair of serrated knives - that glowed blue for Lovecraft-knows-why. James watched the little sewer rat genius go and feast upon her little prize before simply giving up. "You know what? I give up. I adopted a litter of intelligent rats, my neighbor is a crocodile the size of a bus and covered in more scars than there is hair on a bear and I turned into a black shape-shifting blob of darkness and despair. Logic died and madness ate its corpse. Flying white horned blue striped pigs? Perfectly normal. Zombie weresquirrels with guns? Just a Tuesday !" As James went off on a wild tangent under the eyes of five more or less worried ratlings, events had been put in motion elsewhere.
An old, decrepit warehouse in the slums. The building had been abandoned for as long as anyone could remember and was now covered in tags and graffiti of all kinds. Whether the artists were slum kids who just wanted to have fun in their otherwise miserable life or thugs and goons putting on a little artistic cold war between the various gangs and Villains, the result was undeniably a thing of beauty. Words and pictures covered each other on this unique canvas, different styles, symbols, words, and pictures fusing in this chaotic mess and somehow creating a marvel for the eyes. Still, in the center of this masterpiece of street art, there were four graffiti that none had dared to defile. The silhouette of a crowned woman on a mechanical throne, surrounded by cogs and gears. The symbol of one of the core members of the Tarot gang, leader of the Mechanical Empire faction, and one of the three current major powers among Zalcien''s Villains : The Empress. A yellow flower surrounded by green vines with red thorns and a swarm of blue bees. The logo of a mysterious group, The Hivines, also one of the three major Villainous powers of Zalcien, a sect that praised nature and mutation under the guidance of their spiritual leader : Biflora. A white four-pronged star surrounded by crescent moons, each located between two prongs and pointing away from the star, a small colored sphere located between the two tips : a red one on the upper-right, a blue one on the lower-left, a green one on the upper-left and a brown one on the lower-right. The insignia of Wicked Witchcraft, the last of the three major Villain powers, a group of mages led by one of Zalcien''s most well-known Villains : Abrakaboom. And, in the center of it all, merely a name. A red-tagged name. Natrashka, the man, the legend- "Stop daydreaming and do your job, Joe!" Joe huffed. What job? He was supposed to help move crates around and they had finished doing exactly that two hours ago. Brad seriously got on his nerves sometimes. "Brad, they finished doing that a long time ago. Let the guy enjoy his break, alright?" On the other hand, Joe really liked Mikey. The man was nice, polite, did his job without complaining, and defended everyone from Brad''s tantrums. Joe looked around him, observing the decrepit warehouse filled with thugs, and sighed. He dreamed to be a writer and narrating things in his head was one of the few ways to advance his goal when on the job, job which consisted of moving crates around for the Blood Angels. They weren''t the best guys to work for but at least they had bearable work conditions. He was paid by the job but that also meant he was free to refuse the more dangerous ones - like when he had been asked if he could fight a novice Hero to distract the Union from a heist. Plus, they put at least one Cored on every job - and considering some of the stuff that ran around in the slums, Joe was VERY glad to have Mikey around, like most of the team. You quickly got used to the horns, scales, and fur. "Say Joe, did you also feel the ground shaking an hour ago, or am I just losing my mind?" And there came Bob. He technically was also a Cored but his power just involved summoning an infinite supply of cigarettes. Not the most useful thing considering that Bob didn''t smoke and his cigarettes were immune to fire. "Nah, I felt it. Probably The Blind and The Marked duking it out. Wouldn''t be the first time." "Thank Navam!" "Still, you spend so much time around that stuff. Maybe you should ignore Dust jobs for a while?" Red Dust, Blood Spice, Orange Sand- the stuff had a lot of names, most of which didn''t make sense past the first two, with the third only being used to make everything seem legal on the paperwork. Joe wasn''t proud to be involved in the distribution of the stuff but hey, if he didn''t do it someone else would. At least the Blood Angels'' stocks were clean - well, as clean as a drug could be. If everything went well they would deliver some of it in the next few days before moving what was left to another warehouse - no building truly belonged to anyone in the slums, not even them were above that law of the street. No Hero had been tipped off - and the chances of one of them coming to the slums were next to none - and none of their rivals had caught on to their current location. Yes, everything was fine and going according to plan. Chapter 5 : Shadows hunt and light enters "David, stay with the group. Goliath, being cautious is good but paranoia won''t help anyone." James and the rats had finally run out of food. Well, the rats did - James'' shadowy body didn''t need sustenance. A few hours ago the rats had finished eating the last body stored in the mechanical spider and James had decided it was as good a time as any to teach them how to hunt - not that he actually knew anything about it in reality. Clean water had been surprisingly easy to come by - a simple leak in some pipe at the end of the tunnel in which the nest''s entrance was located - but food? Healthy food? James did not even entertain the idea of eating leftovers that dropped down here - at least cockroaches, no matter how mutated, were a natural part of a rat''s diet, sewer burgers marinated in waste juice were not. David was overjoyed - he got to get out of the nest and tear something to shreds. Blanche was rather disgusted by the whole affair - free food and a clean environment had spoiled the white-furred ratling. Foudre didn''t appear to care all that much, she paid attention to her surroundings but that was it. Goliath was scared and nervous, a real scaredy-cat - or, well, rat. Lucille however had quite surprised James. She had always been the most mature of the litter, whereas they acted like intelligent dogs she acted very human-like, she was always the one to break up fights if James didn''t notice or act fast enough and she, overall, seemed to be the leader of the band, thus, James had expected she would be the one taking the exercise the most seriously. What he hadn''t expected was the sheer joy and viciousness she showed. Three times now they had come across a cockroach. Three times now she had rushed on the poor insects and eviscerated them in a single quick claw attack. Even David, despite being at the head of the formation, couldn''t react quick enough to interfere. James had to admit it was a bit unsettling to see the usually calm rat turn into a murder machine. He hadn''t even had the chance to turn into a rat and show them how to fight! "Okay, I sensed one nearby. Lucille, I truly appreciate your... Professionalism, but could you please let your siblings deal with it? They need to learn too." The small light grey rat huffed but agreed, going at the end of the line to watch out for possible surprise attacks. "Thank you, Lucille. Well, who wants to try next?" David was practically hovering with how much hopping around he was doing. He was even rising his front paws to make himself more noticeable. James swore the rat was even smiling. "Fine David, it''s your turn. If it''s too hard don''t hesitate to flee- And you''re already going. Alright." David had ignored everything James had to say once he got confirmation he could finally enact on his violent tendencies, sprinting down the tunnel and preparing to pounce as soon as he had the cockroach in his line of sight - which was quite easy considering this specific specimen was one of the glowing ones. David jumped and, not giving the insect the time to react, pinned down his prey with all four of his paws before tearing its head off with his teeth. He simply sat on his prey and turned toward the group, boasting about being just as efficient as Lucille when it came to killing. Then the cockroach threw him off. "Okay class, I thought you all knew since Lucille didn''t attack the head but better late than never : although decapitation will ultimately kill a cockroach, it will be through starvation - they need so little brainpower to function that they can live without a head." David was fuming, he quickly got back up and took hold of the insect - without its eyes and antennae it couldn''t perceive anything bar vibrations in the ground, even then it wouldn''t have been safe from a humiliated child''s wrath - and began tearing it apart, laughing maniacally all the while. "Now kids, I want you to note that diabolical laughter is a sign that something is very wrong with a person''s mind - though overall, don''t grow overconfident and start celebrating in enemy territory." The ratlings wisely nodded, watching their youngest sibling madly shredding his prey into pieces with unsettling glee - even Lucille, who had shown a vicious joy in hunting and killing prey, was unsure on how to react to her brother''s performance. "David, you are aware this is hunting, right? You''re supposed to eat it afterward." David stopped his rampage and looked down at his victim - or rather, the goop and small chitinous chunks it had become. He shrugged and took a pawful of whatever it was the cockroach had become and proceeded to eat it. James was comforted to see that the other ratlings were just as disgusted as he was. "Sooo... Who''s next?" Blanche, Foudre, and Goliath exchanged a glance - the young male stepping back as soon as his sisters looked at him - and Foudre volunteered. When they came across their next victi- target, she came forward. Whereas Lucille and David had rushed at their opponent to end the fight as quickly as possible, Foudre took a slower approach. She advanced toward the cockroach - a non-glowing one this time - and studied its movements. When it noticed her and took a step back she took a step forward, when it took a step to the left she took a step to the right, when it took a step forward she took a step back, when it took a step back- It deployed its wings and rushed toward Foudre, readying its mouth and front legs to strike, when she suddenly jumped. She put her hind legs on the insect''s wings and used them to propel herself even further, her claws ripping through the fragile flesh normally hidden behind wings and shells. She turned to face the cockroach once more as it crashed into the ground where it spasmed for a few seconds before dropping dead. Lucille nodded, approving her sister''s method, while David grumbled. Goliath was still a bit afraid of facing an enemy himself and Blanche, seeing her brother''s stress, replaced Foudre as the hunter. James meanwhile wondered why were the rats so good at hunting despite still being babies and how they could be so good at it considering they had been defenseless when facing the mechanical spider - which he then realized was perfectly logical when taking into account the fact that the spider was much bigger than them and made out of metal, unlike the cockroaches which were roughly their size and made of chitin. As for wondering about how they were so good at hunting, well, James remembered his decision to stop questioning the logic of this world after all that it had thrown at him and just gave up, assuming that, just like their suspiciously high intelligence, it was probably some sort of mutation or simply how rats worked here - which wasn''t exactly wrong. When Blanche finally found something to kill, she did it quickly : she asked Goliath to fetch her a small stick that was floating down the canal - something that James did instead to prevent the young rat from falling and being eaten or drowning - and then simply used that stick as a spear to stab the cockroach to death at a distance, preventing its insides from dirtying her white fur. James barely held a shudder when witnessing the stabbing but bore it through. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Finally, it was Goliath''s turn. James didn''t have high hopes for the eldest of the ratlings - they were good, yes, but he was clearly uncomfortable in this situation - and was prepared to bring them all back home after giving the big baby rat a small speech about how not everyone had to fight and it was perfectly ok to be scared and prefer to do other things, like taking care of the nest, but, before he had the chance to begin, a cockroach with knife-tennae came flying in from down the tunnel. James got ready to intervene but, just as he had begun to summon a tentacle to tackle the bug and the other ratlings got ready for a fight, the cockroach reached Goliath, and a series of events that no one had expected occurred. One, Goliath didn''t flee but froze, turning his back on the threat to cower. Two, the insect had targeted Goliath and closed in on him. Three, maybe as an instinctual reflex due to fright, Goliath''s tail twitched and swung around. Four, the cockroach met Goliath''s tail head on and proceeded to get flung into the wall where it splattered into a thousand pieces. James and the ratlings looked at the cowering Goliath and the splattered bug before exchanging glances - or just head movements in the case of James since he had a blank face. He approached Goliath and gently petted him, taking the shaken rat into his pair of newly formed arms. Without a word James began the journey back home, the rats following him silently. They all shared the same thought: none of them, not even James, had managed to react before the insect struck, and, had luck not been on their side, Goliath could have been seriously hurt. They would have to train, to be better. This time it was a small bug, one that easily got squashed with a lucky heavy tail hit. But what about next time? How would have things went down had it been a catfish, another robot, or maybe even another rat, or, worst of all, that giant crocodile? This hunt had been the first time the ratlings were actively trying to improve themselves, so far they had only played or lazed about. That needed to change. For their big brother. James had similar thoughts. So far, after arriving in this world, he had the excuse of experimenting with how his body worked, the basics of his anatomy - or lack thereof -and how he needed to move around. Then he had the ratlings to take care of. Then the nest to improve. But never had he focused on his combat faculties - DESPITE encountering a monstrous crocodile AND a murderous mechanical spider, definitive proofs of the dangerousness of this world. He had to train, too. Just like them. For them.
Sarah looked around her. The Hero Union''s Hall was an impressive work of art : an enormously long and slightly less wide room with a yellow paved ground - gold would have been a bit too pompous - covered by a sky-blue carpet that indicated the different paths to follow to exit the room, columns of white marble stretching up and up on the sides of the room seemed to support the ceiling - that is, until you looked up. There was no official statement on how the Hero Union did it, leaving the public to wonder about the secrets of the Hall''s ceiling, but it was undeniably beautiful : the beige walls of the room stopped at some point - if Sarah had to hazard a guess they were probably three floors worth of height - whereas the columns kept on going forever. Why wouldn''t they, when there was no ceiling? Anyone standing in the Hall, when looking up, would be gifted with the marvelous sight of an always sunny sky, small clouds drifting in the winds. There was no actual sun - there had been one, once, but nocturnal races and Cored with specific mutations had filed many complaints, ultimately it was the visit of a neighboring city''s Hero, Holy Moly, that sealed the artificial sun''s fate. This fake sky was quite a feat considering the fact that the Hall was on the ground floor of the Hero Union''s Headquarters, a massive fifty floors high glass tower with a garden surrounded by white marble walls on top. How would you access this garden? Well, upon looking closer - or simply by witnessing the comings and goings of people in the Hall - one would realize the columns were in fact elevator shafts. Elevator shafts that allowed access to the rest of the building. Elevator shafts that were always being watched by at least three Heroes. Sarah could easily recognize the ones on watch today, even from afar. Mecha Man, a genius mechanic who was behind most of the other Heroes'' gadgets, currently wearing a futuristic golden knight outfit with black highlights and a singular red eye. Although it looked like he was dutifully watching over the Hall, based on her uncle''s stories, Sarah knew he was probably looking at some holographic screens only visible to him, leaving the actual surveillance work to a few drones flying around - they looked a lot like bees to her. The Serpent, a heavily mutated creature who now looked like a fusion between a human and a snake - though no one was sure which they had begun as. They had a scarred cobra''s head with a permanently puffed up hood and an anaconda''s long and thick body, only with a somewhat humanoid torso and two pair of arms, with such a body no regular clothes could suit them so instead they wore a gladiatorial leather and iron outfit - which included holders for their net, their trident, their shortsword, and their buckler. Her uncle had told Sarah that, despite the scary looks, they were actually a big softy. And finally, Miss Malice, a reformed magical Villain who had decided to keep her old alias to further cement herself as a redeemed individual - which had worked : not many remembered Miss Malice, the Villain who took a pleasure to spread chaos via magical shenanigans, but everyone remembered Miss Malice, the friendly neighborhood Hero good witch who knew how to dispel a curse better than anyone else in Zalcien - as well as her youthful face, her short pink hair and cute purple and pink witch outfit, straight out of a fairy tale. Sarah''s uncle had told that in truth, Miss Malice''s Villainous career had been so easily swept under the rug because she was more of a Cored teen pulling pranks than a criminal mastermind - and that she apparently still had some of that old cheekiness when out of the public''s eye. Seeing them made Sarah a bit self-aware and she looked down at herself. She looked as young as Miss Malice - though the witch cheated with a few dozens potions and spells - but wasn''t anywhere near as confident. Her ginger hair and blue eyes clashed with each other, she was short, even for a nineteen-year-old girl, and felt like she was way too thin. Annnd she felt ridiculous in the Union''s trial clothes for trainees : a white full bodysuit with a pair of white gloves and of white boots and a classic white domino mask. Really, she couldn''t wait to design her costume with Arachnanny. As Sarah kept thinking about how ridiculous she was, a figure silently approached her. Even when they were standing right behind her she didn''t notice them. They went in for the kill. And simply booped Sarah on the nose. "Huh ?" She turned around, her eyes reaching the chest of her uncle''s suit, and looked up at his face. "Sarah, a Hero must always be on guard." "Yes, uncle Dou-" "No real names or familial references." "Yes, Firefighter." Her uncle, Firefighter. Technically one of Zalcien''s less known Heroes, mostly sent on rescue missions or small-time Villain attacks, but actually one of the core members of the Union there. He was among the eldest still active Heroes in Zalcien - despite only being in his mid-forties - and most of the others looked up to him - or at least acknowledged his input. His costume was simple : a red and blue bodysuit with yellow gauntlets, boots, chest piece, and helmet - mask included, looking like a welder''s mask with two different holes for the eyes instead of a singular line, the glass being tinted blue. "Come on, you''re the one who insisted on becoming a Hero. It''s an incredibly rewarding job but it has a lot of responsibilities. Not everyone wants you to stay safe." "I know, I know. I was just... Thinking about... How... Maybe..." Firefighter put his hand on her shoulder. "Second thoughts? The Hall does that sometimes. And seeing Heroes not as inspirational figures but a goal to reach can be scary. But remember : it''s okay to fail. You can try more than one time and, if it''s just not your thing, no one will look down on you. I won''t." "I was just thinking about how ugly the trainees'' suit was." Firefighter let his hand drop from her shoulder. "Oh." She chuckled, imagining her uncle''s cheeks turn red behind his mask. "But I needed to hear that too. Thank you, uncle Firefighter." "What did I say Sa-" "No names!" "But you don''t have an alias yet you''" "Fighterboy! Already scaring the kids?" Sarah and her uncle turned around to see Mecha Man approaching them. "Mecha, I swear to Pyros and Aqua, if you call me ''Fighterboy'' ONE MORE TIME I WILL DROWN YOU!" Sarah laughed as her uncle and Mecha Man, two well-respected Heroes, began to squabble like children. Yes, this is the life she wanted. Chapter 6 : Light learns and shadows explore Sarah was seated at a wooden desk in what could only be described as a stereotypical classroom - maps and weird knickknacks included - along with five other teens in Hero trainees suits. At her right was a white girl even smaller than her, with spiky crimson red hair and orange eyes - her power being fire-related seemed obvious but you should never assume. She looked excited and kept glancing at The Serpent, Mecha Man, Miss Malice, and Firefighter - all four of them standing in the back of the room. She also kept making little gestures at her fellow trainees - Sarah waved back each time, of course, but in a much calmer manner. At her left was a tall black boy with short hair and hazel eyes who appeared to be a bit uncomfortable being here - he seemed a bit too scrawny for a strength-based power and yet she had seen him stand his ground when an agitated orcish centaur lady had pushed past him to request for Miss Malice''s assistance regarding a curse that had supposedly been placed on her, so, Sarah wouldn''t underestimate his abilities. Unlike the girl behind her. She had met her less than an hour ago but she already disliked the bubble-blowing drow teen, no matter how good her long ebony hair looked in contrast to her purple skin. She had to be as tall as the scrawny boy and as thin as Sarah herself - she was pretty sure she could see bones protruding through the skin sometimes. The drow teen obviously already considered everyone standing in this room to be beneath her - at least the other trainees - as seen via her blatant overuse of eye rolls - her disgustingly sparkly pretty pink eyes being unusual, even among elvenkin. The boy - at least Sarah thought it was a boy? - sitting to the left of the drow seemed much nicer. Maybe because he was an owl - which meant that he probably had a Body Core. Yes, he was just an owl : round head, large pretty eyes, a brown coat of fluffy feathers - except on the torso where they were beige - talons for feet and a pair of wings. Wearing the suit made his feathers poof out of it hilariously - if she had to hazard a guess, Sarah supposed he usually wore clothes that could hide beneath his feathers, looking less like a humanoid and more like a regular giant owl. The thing at the drow''s right, however, was a complete mystery to Sarah. She could tell there was a rotating green crystalline hollow pyramid - maybe made out of emerald? - in a bubble - rainbow reflection included. Then, she could tell that, under that floating bubble, there was the Hero trainee suit - an XXXL model, so around The Serpent''s size had it had legs - filled with something. What, exactly, she couldn''t tell. It was bumpy though. Annnd for some reason the bubble emitted some weak low-frequency noises, mostly white noise and occasionally a silent beep. As Sarah was still trying to figure out WHAT exactly was the sixth member of the class, the door to the room opened and a black-haired woman walked in. Not any woman, mind you, but Zalcien''s Hero Union''s leader : Alberta Saline, one of the few Supers in Zalcien to have no secret identity, no alias, no mask. She was somewhat taller than the average woman, never was seen outside of her pale blue outfit - to be more precise, a pair of light blue pants and a similarly colored long coat, a white button-up shirt, and a pair of deep blue gloves and boots, it was no surprise that she was often compared to a corsair captain - and wore the passage of time - through small wrinkles on her face, to be expected of a sixty-years old human - and battle-scars with pride, her tan skin entirely covered with an absurd amount of them, from small cuts to burns to the famous icy crystals embedded into her skull on the right side of her face. Rumor was she was actually a cyborg, her real body being too damaged to function properly pushing her to relocate her brain and consciousness in a metal body. No one dared to disrespect the woman and all stood to attention - even the drow stopped chewing her gum and quickly swallowed it when her gaze met the green eyes of the one who was probably the most influential person in the city after the mayor. She walked to the front of the room, right in the middle of the large screen-board behind her, and spoke. "Good morning, trainees. You may sit." That small announcement was followed by the creaking and scraping of wooden chairs on a wooden floor. "You have all passed the preliminary tests to become a Hero. Congratulations." The trainees began to smile, even looking at each other to share their joy. "This, however, means nothing." The joy level dropped. "What?" Sarah turned around and was quite surprised to see it wasn''t the drow that had spoken but the - probably - fire-girl. "Yes, trainee. Tests are purely theoretical. Having powers and knowing how to use them is already quite a feat, but it means nothing if you cannot cooperate with a team, obey rules or deal with the stress of an actual urgency. Case in point, Shining Shogun." Sarah cringed at that. The man had single-handedly ruined the reputation of light-based powers in Zalcien - something not even Flasher, the sole light-based Villain of the city, had managed to do. Simply put, Shogun was an academic prodigy who suddenly gained luxomancy and used his powers to fight off small-time criminals. He constantly boasted about his abilities and, at some point, got recruited by the Hero Union after numerous petitions had been made. On his first mission - which consisted of stopping a bank heist by some random Cored Villain - he broke down, his powers went berserk, and nearly killed a lot of people before he fled, becoming persona non grata. "Powers are but an aspect of being a Super. You are not predestined heroes of fate and justice, you are warriors in training - warriors who happen to fight to defend the law." Sarah gulped. She was so used to hearing her uncle''s point of view on heroism that Saline''s words shook her a little. "You six have been selected to form a temporary team during your initiation. Whether or not all six of you will be left by the end of the year, we''ll see. You will all be offered a job to justify your trips to the Union, if you fail the initiation you will be allowed to keep this job for an undetermined amount of time to cover your tracks - it may be days, weeks, months, or even years." Sarah nodded - this was more in line with her uncle''s teachings. Every Hero''s other identity had a job at the Headquarters to ensure Villains and the media could never figure out who they truly were behind the mask - after all, one person out of ten in Zalcien worked for the Union, no one could narrow down THAT list. "Over the next few hours we will go over all of the basic information you should know, following which we will begin team training - after giving you some time to discuss your powers, of course, teamwork is impossible if you don''t know what your allies can do. For now, let us discuss your aliases." The firey girl almost jumped out of her chair. "Me! Me first! I wanna be Glicer Glitter!" "Noted, though curb your enthusiasm young woman." "Oops, sorry ma''am." The owl raised his wing. "If possible, I''d like to be called Stolos." "Demons usually do not appreciate others using their name as their own, especially by Heroes, but knowing him he won''t mind much. I''ll allow it, for now." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The owl bowed to thank her as the scrawny boy raised his hand next. "Is Golden Guardian in use?" "Not in Zalcien, no, but it is taken within the Union. I can offer Bronze Battler, however." He seemed dejected but prepared for such an outcome. "Is Kopper Kid okay?" "Copper with a K?" He seemed a bit uncertain at that. "Yes?" "Very well. Next." The pyramid thing flashed briefly before speaking in a way that reminded Sarah of those old AI you sometimes saw in movies. "Request: may this one be referred to as Elaimant?" "Request granted." Sarah was about to speak next when Saline raised her hand to silence her, staring at the drow girl. "What about you, young woman? You seem distracted." The drow sighed and rolled her eyes before answering. "Call me Maledicta. And I''m not distracted, just bored out of my mind being stuck here with these incompetent idiots." Saline stomped the floor, urging Maledicta to straighten in her chair. "This alias seems a bit too close to Villainy but I will let it pass. Your behavior, however, will need to be corrected. You are not here to judge others, this is your instructors'' job. Remember your place." Saline then turned toward Sarah. "And you, young miss?" "Firefly. I want to be known as Firefly." Saline hummed before nodding. "Understandable, agreed. I now have other matters to attend to, I will let your instructors take charge from now on. Stay out of trouble, trainees: we always need more Heroes and fewer Villains. Farewell." Saline left, leaving through the door from which she entered as quickly as she had come. In the back, The Serpent, Miss Malice, Mecha Man, and Firefighter exchanged a few looks before Firefighter stepped forward to stand in front of the board, right where Saline had been. "Now, children, over the next three hours we will begin teaching you the ways of the Hero before doing any actual training. Lesson number one: the rules of Union and Zalcien''s laws." At this, all of the trainees - including Sarah - couldn''t help but groan.
James slithered in the sewers - he had decided to try out a snake-like form in case he ever had to travel through a space in which he couldn''t use his Skitter form. What kind of environment would that be he didn''t know, but better be safe than sorry. He had learned that the hard way. After the hunting trip''s disastrous ending, he had brought the rats back to the nest where they could stay safe. All of the ratlings worked together to cheer up Goliath and help him get over what happened - despite James thinking it would take more than a few hours of playtime and grooming to do so. After having made sure the surroundings of the nest were safe and instructing the ratlings on how to use their otherwise purposeless mechanical spider as a door, James had decided to explore the sewers once more. This time, he had an actual objective: making a - mental - map. If he could establish which zones were safe and which were dangerous, he wouldn''t have to expose the ratlings to any more danger. And, if he was lucky, he might even stumble back upon the place where he had first woken up - a place with a clear exit to the sewers, the inlet. He wasn''t ready to leave just yet - the ratlings still needed him after all - but it would be useful to know how to exit the sewers in case of an emergency or even to simply fetch things on the surface. He needed the Internet, not because he was bored - though he did miss it quite a bit - but to get information, it''s the reason why it was first created after all. If this world had the Internet, that is. The presence of robots seemed to support this train of thought but, well, James had read and played his fair share of books and games where fantastical worlds had robots thanks to magic so, who knows. Certainly not him. Thankfully, James had learned a new trick to help in his task: it appeared that his new shadowy body came with enhanced memory and sense of space - both of which made shapeshifting and moving in weird shapes much easier, as well as - mental - map-making almost casual. Almost. Tunnel, more tunnel, more tunnel, oh, more tunnel, tunnel... Who would have guessed sewers would be so repetitive. At least James now had a rough idea of how things worked down here regarding the food chain: the cockroaches lived in cracks and holes in the main tunnel network - where the main canal ran - and they fed on the waste floating down there. Then, small critters - toads, newts, rats - who lived in side-tunnels came out of their hidey-holes to feast upon the cockroaches. At this point, bigger critters - so far James had only seen a giant rat, a feral cat, an oversized newt, a spider the size of a large dog, and half a dozen dragonflies - who lived in their own side tunnels, these having off-branches of the main canal - hunted their smaller brethren. And that''s where the aquatic food chain began. The catfishes and the dragonfly larvae ate the bigger critters - too large to quickly flee from the waters - and the overconfident smaller ones. There were a few other fish species as well but those mostly fed on the scraps, the waste in the water, or each other, the only notable exception being lampreys who clearly would have ruled the waters had it not been for the catfishes'' existence. It was at this point that the outliers began. A few catfishes as big as the one James had first seen - in other words, the size of an average car - roamed in the water, occasionally snacking on, well, anything smaller than them. There were a couple giant lampreys too, roughly the same size, though those were much rarer. No crocodiles surprisingly, which implied that the gargantuan scarred one he had encountered not so long ago either had a very large territory from which it chased the others or it was alone down here - the possible reason why scared him a little. How had James gotten all of this information about the inner workings of the aquatic fauna despite the water being a disgusting murky green? Simple: he had infused his shadows into small pebbles - fragments of broken or cracked bricks - and thrown those into the water, relying on their weak sensing ability to scout out what was happening down there. Going down himself was a no-no after all - he did not want to become crocodile chow, no thank you. There were also a couple outliers on land. He hadn''t noticed them at first due to how stealthy they were but, once he knew where to look, he realized they were not as rare as he thought they''d be. They were still rarer than the giant catfishes but, since he hadn''t encountered anything for hours on end when he first awoke, James didn''t expect such impressive fauna in the tunnels. They were giant snails, their shell the size of a human, who calmly grazed the moss that grew in some parts of the tunnels. They even had moss on their own shell, moss that much smaller snails - probably the young - were feeding on. He also had seen a similar slug at some point, which seemed a bit more aggressive, but it quickly got snatched off and eaten by the next item on the list: a very, VERY big dragonfly - again, roughly as long as a human was tall. James had only seen one and he hoped it stayed that way, though he couldn''t deny it had left him alone, mostly focused on catching catfishes when they surfaced. The last one was a classic of monstrously large creepy-crawlies: a gigantic spider. In its case, each LEG was as long as a human - which made it quite the impressive beast. Thankfully it had the same behavior as the majority of its smaller brethren: it simply waited on its web, hidden on the ceiling, a few strands of silk dropping off like those sticky fly-traps. Still, considering what he had seen so far, James didn''t put it past it to suddenly start lassoing prey if it ran out of food. Still, James was glad to see that, much like most spiders, this one preferred its meals to have exoskeletons - it probably made slurping out the liquified insides easier if James had to guess, not that he wanted to. He was not returning towards the nest - to ensure he would cover as much ground as possible, he went off in a direction and looped back to the nest and repeated the process again and again. He was probably going to call it day at this point, he had already learned a lot about the sewers'' ecology - including the fact that the nest was in a safe zone and directly surrounded only by cockroach territory. Future hunting trips should be safe as long as he watched out for mutants. As he neared the nest, coming in from the opposite direction from which he usually entered, James heard a noise. It was not some kind of screeching, screaming, gurgling, squeaking, or even meowing, no, it was... Voices. James turned right and he saw it, up on the wall, connected to the ceiling : a sewer inlet. A sewer inlet from which light and voices fell down the sewers. A way to go to the surface. To civilization. "Joe, we got some new stuff to deliver, go pick three crates of Red Dust." "Finnnne. Bob, wanna come help?" "Nope, you''re the one who said I shouldn''t go near the stuff, bad for my health, remember?" "Slacker." Had he had eyes James would have narrowed them. Something here seemed fishy. He turned into a shadow and slithered up the wall to peek on the workers. Yup, definitely fishy. If this were a show these people would either be dockers or thugs - and, as far as he sensed, there was no sea around. Then James saw something really interesting come near. "Gonna be fine Joe? Sorry, I can''t help, must stay on watch duty." "Bah, I''ll be fine Mickey." A humanoid creature, at least two heads taller than all of the other men here. His hands and feet were covered in thick brown scales up to the elbow and knee respectively, the rest of his limbs had thinner plates between which grew long white hair. He had even longer white hair on his head which was crowned by a pair of curved horns, going to the sides before going straight up, and his face was covered by a gas mask - James could barely tell there was some tan skin around the mask. He wore black shorts and a crimson leather jacket, James could read out "Blood Angels" embroidered on the back with darker scarlet threads, an angry horned skull crying tears of blood beneath. Looking closer, an awful lot of them had similar jackets. Fishy, really fishy... Chapter 7 : Scheming is winning James had observed the thugs in the old abandoned warehouse for an hour now, and he had come to some conclusions. One, these people were, indeed, fishy - especially the one called Jerome since he had a pair of gills on the neck and some goldfish scales on the cheeks. Two, these people were probably some kind of drug dealers - as could be gathered from them selling "stuff", something they also sometimes called Red Dust, and Jerome''s "I sell drugs for a living" tattoo. Jerome was a really weird guy. Three, they planned to leave soon-ish. The guy in charge hadn''t been specific but had mentioned relocating to another warehouse in a few days a couple of times now. Really, James was quite glad these people either had no common sense, no memory, or a tendency to monologue - maybe a mix of the three? "Say, what the gang''s name again?" "Are you serious?" "W-Well, I know it''s related to blood and angels, but I never know if it''s ''Bloody'' or just ''Blood''." "It''s Blood Angels, Jerome!" "What? I thought it was Bloody Angels." "Come on Bob, it''s written on your jacket". "Well, his jacket says ''Bloody''." "What." "Yeah, it''s-" "Joe, I swear to Firus-" Ooor just plain stupidity. James really couldn''t complain since, either way, he got all of the information he needed. He had especially paid attention to the one called "Mickey", in other words, their main mutant. Or monster. James wasn''t sure. What he was sure of, however, is that these people had no issue working with the man, thing, or whatever it was he wanted to be called. In fact, Mickey was one of the most well-liked thugs in the group. He was supposedly on watch duty - which made sense, considering the fact he looked like he could rip a man in half without shedding a sweat. This display brought James'' hopes of cooperation with regular people back up - but not past an unhealthy point. He knew better than to approach a bunch of criminals in the middle of their illegal activities and the fact that it was a group of thugs that so easily accepted something so inhuman as one of their own didn''t mean anything, criminal groups were much more welcoming of diversity since familial-like bonds ensured loyalty and providing a place for parias and minorities usually made them forget to question orders. But now wasn''t the time for moral studies on gangs'' manipulation of their normally discriminated members. It was the time to think about what James wanted to do. On the one hand, James could simply ignore this group and just stick to his life with the ratlings in the sewers and- let''s be honest, no one genuinely thinks this is an option. Even James internally rolled his non-existent eyes as he had this thought. On the other - and almost certainly chosen - hand James could profit from his discovery, but the question was, how? Warning the police? He had no way to contact them and doing so would put him at risk. If mutants were only thugs, what would something like him be seen as? Joining the group? It didn''t feel right and, let''s be honest here, James was much too scared to even attempt a friendly relationship with hardened criminals - at least those still in activity, people who have done their jail-time earned their second chance after all - and especially not when one of them looked like some random anime''s Dark Lord''s general or right hand-man. Warning another group? Even worse, James didn''t know how to contact them and, again, he had no idea on how to interact with ruffians. Plus, who said that all gangs would be as welcoming to non-humans as this one? No, he had too little information on the inner workings of this world''s, or at least this city''s, society to risk it. Stealing from them? Now THAT could be a somewhat good idea. Stealing this "Red Dust" would be an awful, terrible idea - taking away drugs from a gang specialized in dealing them was the best way to commit suicide and James wouldn''t even have any use for it - but the rest? They would be disgruntled, sure, but they wouldn''t go all out to chase after him since it would put their treasured Red Dust at risk. It was still a terrible idea, of course, and James was VERY aware of it. But he was tired of just hiding in the sewers and reacting to what life threw at him. He wanted to be more proactive. He had to become stronger, both mentally and physically, if he wanted to ensure his safety and the ratlings'' in this world filled with mutants, robots, and monsters. Still, James knew better than to barge in and start plundering under the guards'' noses. He had no idea if his body was immune to bullets and frankly he didn''t want to test it out. There was also the matter of Mickey, who probably knew how to handle a fight better than James did. No, if he wanted to secure anything from the warehouse, the shadowy figure would need a plan. It was time to scheme.
"Kids, I''m home!" Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The ratlings turned around and looked at James as he entered the nest, going from his snake form to his regular somewhat humanoid one. "You''ll never guess what I saw today." The ratlings exchanged a few glances, Lucille shrugging quite a few times before David volunteered to answer. "Squeak?" "David, I have no idea what you just said so I''ll just assume you answered incorrectly." The young rat scoffed. "No, it''s people!" At that, all five rats tilted their head. "Ah, right, you never saw people. Here, let me show you." James'' shadow began to grow and cover the entire wall in front of the ratlings. "Neat trick, right? I figured out I could do all of that shadow manipulation stuff with my own shadow. It can''t change state but I can make it completely disappear." His audience just stared at him with annoyance. "Fine, fine, here''s the show." The shadow on the wall shifted and twisted, going from an all-encompassing black mass to a reproduction of the nest itself, young rats and James included, done in silhouettes. The aforementioned young rats ooohed and awwwed - or, well, did the rat equivalent through squeaks. "This, is our home." The shadow changed once more, exiting the nest to explore the sewers, revealing the many creatures that roamed their tunnels and canals - and yet the nest stayed in a corner of the picture, giving the ratlings an idea of the true scale of the world around them. Goliath shuddered a bit when seeing the monstrous shapes take form, at which point all of his siblings - even David - hugged him at once, comforting the scaredy-rat. "These, are the sewers." The shadow shifted again, the scene shrinking and going upwards to reveal the surface world to the ratlings and how massive it was compared to their little sewers. They were all extremely impressed with the gigantic buildings that reached the skies, the cars and the train that rapidly traveled across the landscape, and, last but not least, by the people roaming the streets. James'' ability to manipulate shadows may have been too limited to make a full realistic reproduction of a city but this simple 2D representation on the wall was enough to spark dreams in the ratlings'' minds. "This, is a city." David seemed fascinated by the cars, Blanche gazed curiously at the - admittedly quite bad considering it was black - imitation of the sun, Lucille didn''t seem interested in anything in particular, neither was Foudre, and Goliath looked smitten with humans. Seeing their small, black - red in Blanche''s case - eyes sparkling with joy and wonder brought a smile to James'' face - or it would have had he had an actual face, again, he really missed having one of those. "And these..." The shadow transformed once more, this time only showcasing a few people in different outfits and with different body types. "Are people." The ratlings stared at the silhouettes on the wall, then at James, then at the silhouettes, then at James- Lucille pointed at the figures on the wall then at James before tilting her head. "Ah, well, I''m not exactly a person... Well, not anymore." James dropped his shoulders and lowered his head at that, focusing on the ground. Sure, he had accepted the fact that he had stopped being human for a while now, but saying out loud still hurt. But he suddenly raised his head. "No, I am still a person, just... Not a human one. Yeah, I''m still sapient and that''s enough." The ratlings tilted their heads once more. Today was a really confusing day. They had sensed James'' sadness and were getting ready to hug him but, as they were getting ready, he had quickly become cheerful again without any reason - at least none they understood. "Ah, right, you don''t know about sapience. I''ll really have to teach you more stuff at some point... But anyway, those are humans. Now, don''t get confused, they may look like me right now but that''s because I can''t make colors. In truth, humans are among the most colorful species in the world thanks to their clothes. Trust me, no one could confuse me for one." Lucille placed a paw beneath her chin and nodded along with James'' explanation before pointing at the silhouettes and then at the ground. "Ah, the ones I found. No, they weren''t in the sewers, not that far away though. Those I found are thugs, BAD people." Once more today, the ratlings tilted their heads - at this point, James was seriously considering making small signs with question marks for them to raise to prevent any future issue with their necks. "Humans are normally rather peaceful, kinda like the regular cockroaches? But they are NOT food!" The ratlings nodded along, though James was somewhat disturbed by how disappointed David looked when he had been told he wouldn''t get to eat humans. Definitely had to look out for that. "Thugs, however, are more aggressive, kinda like the cockroaches with armed antennae." Goliath gulped at that, trembling a little, before quickly getting covered in concerned furry siblings and even a stray black tentacle. "And, among those I found, one was mutated - like the glowing cockroaches. It''s very likely that makes him the strongest one of the group." The rats hummed - or, well, squeaked, as rats do. "And we''re gonna steal from them." They went into a fury.
"Lucille, for the last time, I''m perfectly fine!" "Squeak!" "I''m not mad, I have a plan!" It had taken five, FIVE painfully long minutes to calm down the ratlings after his little announcement. "Firstly, this isn''t a hunt. If we have to fight against a single one of them it means the plan already failed and we have to get away." "Squeak!" "SECONDLY, I reiterate that I have, indeed, a plan." "Squeak?" "No, this won''t be a repeat of the bladed cockroach incident." "Squeak." "Listen, it''s simple. We''re going to dig under their warehouse and make a small hole from which we will be able to get in. We only take small stuff and, in the case we do find something valuable but too large to pass through the hole, we''ll take it and hide it somewhere else in the warehouse so that we''ll be able to get it back once they leave." "Squeak?" "Simple, we''ll have a distraction: me." "Squeak!" "I''ll go first, I''ll explore the place a bit and show you what I want you to take, then we begin to steal stuff but, instead of carrying it down the hole like you, I''ll bring it down via the sewer inlet nearby - at some point, a guard will notice and, once they start searching for me, you''ll be able to get more stuff and move what''s already down there elsewhere." "Squeak?" "Of course, I''m not stupid. We won''t bring anything directly to the nest, they could track it somehow. No, instead we''ll have two caches, one hidden somewhere in the tunnel we''ll make for our hole and another hidden in the main tunnels where I''ll lead the thugs - and maybe introduce them to the local wildlife." "Squeak..." "Don''t worry, we''ll have a day or two of digging to figure out the details. Besides, if it really looks too risky once we begin, I''ll prioritize saving our lives." "Squeak..." "Cautiousness is good, worry is not. Look, the others are getting hungry, we should go hunt something." Lucille was a bit reluctant but, once she too began to hunger, she had to stop questioning James'' plan and led the others - minus Goliath, who chose to stay behind with James to help him start digging his tunnel and to avoid any possible violent encounter - on another hunting trip. Young growing rats need lots of energy, after all. And so James'' and, by extension, Silhouette''s first plot began. It wouldn''t be the most impressive, dramatic, prolific, or spectacular one but it would be the first of a long, LONG line of schemes that would make Zalcien go mad. Chapter 8 : Warehouse plundering James had spent an entire day digging a tunnel from a regular small sewer tunnel to the warehouse - as well as a hidden room to serve as a cache for all of their future loot. The newly dug tunnel was quite small, only large enough for a cat to go through, James didn''t want to risk the Blood Angels following the ratlings down. The cache itself however was as big as a closet, the plan was to fill it up after all. How did he deal with the rocks and bricks he dug out of the nest? Simple: he had expanded the nets to stock more of these materials. How did he deal with the rocks and bricks he dug out of the nest for the second expansion? Simple: he had fused a lot of them together. Turns out, once infused with shadows, materials could not only be fused together but also condensed - which made it MUCH easier to stock them. At this point, James was pretty sure he was right under the warehouse. Shapeshifting had seemingly enhanced his memory and, if this very memory was correct, he was pretty sure that his tunnel ended right under a corner of the warehouse - as for how he knew the right distance, well, let''s say that being a delivery boy had taught him to evaluate distances despite obstacles, in this case, the ground. It was now the time to test that out: it was time to breach the warehouse''s floor. This would be the riskiest moment before the heist, if he was too loud the thugs could hear him and understand something weird was going on, if his estimations were wrong then he could end up outside of the warehouse or even in a completely different area, even plain bad luck could have dug right under a guard''s feet. To be safe he had ordered the ratlings to stay in the nest, just in case. Goliath hadn''t stayed with him very long, he had quickly grown bored and had returned home as soon as his siblings had returned from their hunting trip. Digging tunnels was boring, even for rats, who knew? James, in his Skitter form, to fool the thugs into thinking he would just be a mindless mutated beast, speared his four tentacles into the tunnel''s ceiling, reshaped his round body into a donut to pass dirt through, and created a pair of rotating steel-hard spikes to drill upwards. Once the hole was deep enough to go through he slimmed down his body and entered, continuing to drill, taking care to ease the debris'' fall with a net-like tentacle to avoid making too much sound. "Huh, is it just me or is there some sort of grinding sound?" "Jerome, I swear to the Nines, if you say ONE MORE WORD within my hearing range I will GUT YOU LIKE A FISH!" "Hey, that''s racist!" "Jerome, do I have to go borrow a fisher''s knife?" "Nah, it''s fine, I''ll be quiet." "Good." "..." "..." "There''s still a grinding sound though-" "JEROME-" Luckily for James, the goons he was planning to steal from were not the brightest of the bunch and their supervisor''s patience had run short thanks to their usual hijinks. And so, roughly less than an hour of grinding stone covered by the sounds of Brad yelling at Jerome as well as Joe''s, Bob''s, and Mickey''s pleas for him to show mercy later, James finally stumbled into something other than stone. Wood. He had already dug through the warehouse''s floor and was now beneath a crate. He wondered how he could solve this conundrum. After all, this entire plan was based around the fact that the thugs wouldn''t react too badly if their Red Dust was left alone, if by chance this crate was filled with the stuff and James drilled a hole in it, well, it would all go down the tunnel and probably make the gang''s interest in locating and punishing MUCH higher. Really, in a normal situation, this might have been enough to cancel the entire thing. But, thankfully, James realized he could just gas or shadow his way inside the crate to see what was inside. He preferred turning into a shadow, not only would he have more control but, as an incorporeal being, he may be immune to the possible side effects any loose Dust could have had on him. And so he slithered his way in, reassured to see that the crate was only full of money. He had no reason to worry after- Wait, full of money? James inspected the content of the crate much more closely. Wads of purple tickets, each wrapped with a blue ribbon, filled the wooden construct. On each ticket was imprinted the number "500", the word "Xerins" in small characters, a domino mask over a balance and, on the side opposite to the one he just checked, a domino mask over a planet - which was definitely NOT Earth based on the continents he could see - with a spiky halo with the number "500" a few more times, as well as a flag with a blue cross - the hospital kind - and white background, a white domino mask with golden eyes in the center of the cross. Oh, and a few random numbers as well, those used to identify money. I''m guessing that means those are tickets of five hundred Xerins? The flag must belong to whatever country I''m in as well. However, this begs the question: how much is a Xerin worth? Is it like Yens or Euros? And- wait a second, those identification numbers keep repeating. Don''t tell me... Indeed, James'' assumption was correct: one of the Blood Angels'' buyers had scammed them with fake tickets. Still, to make it look realistic and pass the bare minimum checks, it appeared that a third of the money was still real. Doesn''t that mean we could take most of the real money and, by the time they notice and check on it, they''ll realize they got scammed and think we only stole fakes? Oh my, that''s already quite a good catch. Still in shadow form, James carefully left the crate to get a better look at the warehouse''s inside. Lots of crates and quite a few guards, but still less threatening than Mickey alone. James slithered here and there, hopping from shadow to shadow to fit in and not get noticed, and checked each and every crate in the building. As expected, most of them were filled with Red Dust, the stuff looked like red or orange salt depending on the bag, bags which seemed to be made of good old regular transparent plastic. Still, there were also other things stored here, a few more money filled crates, one filled with guns, two with ammunitions and a couple filled with odd trinkets, probably left-overs from past transactions, random guys'' way of paying, or maybe just old forgotten inventory from the people who occupied the place before the Angels. Money was always good, of course, so James took care to remember where these were placed, going as far as to infuse a single fake ticket in each one to have some form of tracking - he even went as far as rearranging the wads to ensure the ratlings would mostly take real money while leaving enough to not make the thugs too suspicious. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Guns and ammunition, however, were much less so. Guns were powerful and incredibly useful weapons for sure but James didn''t feel comfortable using one, especially since he had absolutely no training to use one and, for once, even his new shadowy instincts couldn''t help with that. And, without a gun, ammunition was useless. Still, James planned to have the ratlings steal a pair and some ammo, just in case. The odd trinkets were much more interesting. Some lighters, lamps, flashlights, tools, random scraps, nuts and bolts, a couple of gears and cogs, and, most important of all, phones. If James'' hunch was right, those were phones that had been stolen and wiped clean - and, therefore, without any password. THIS could be the most useful thing to steal, at least in the short term. The guards, fortunately, did not patrol. They just stood around, doing nothing, simply oriented so that they would see anyone trying to enter the warehouse. Quite an ineffective way of doing things if James had to be honest. But, now that he had thoroughly scouted the place and ensured the ratlings could safely act if all went according to plan, James was ready to begin. "Goliath, it''s fine, really." "Squeak!" "Don''t pretend you''re ok. You''re already afraid of hunting trips, this is far too much for you to handle." "Squeak!" "This is too dangerous to risk it. Lucille, help me out." "Squeak!" "Squeak!" "Squeak squeak!" "See? Even David agrees! I''m sorry Goliath but you will have to sit this one out. If you really want to get over your fear once and for all we can work on that after this is all over, but right now isn''t a good time to do so." "Squeak..." "We won''t be long, ok? Plus, once we''re done, we''ll have a bunch of new stuff to fill this empty nest with!" "Squeak?" "Trust me, it''s going to be fine."
Joe looked around. Once more, he had run out of work hours ago and, once more, Brad still insisted on him sticking around to do stuff - stuff which, again, was already done. At least this time Joe had taken a notebook to write down his ideas for his future novels, the one he currently had in mind being the story of a fish who wished to go to the moon. It was still a work in progress. Plus, this time he got to be inside. He had even prepared a lawn chair for the occasion. He was in the middle of writing down a few ideas for the chapter during which the fish entered an ivory palace to ask for a wish from the king of the moonlit sea when he heard a noise. A weird, skittery-like noise. Joe put down his book and looked around - and even behind - him but nope, nothing in sight. Curious. Maybe rats had begun to infest the warehouse? It wouldn''t be the first time something like that happened. Still, he had to check, what if it was some kind of shapeshifter or even just some kind of stealthy guy with noise-canceling techniques? Joe looked around, no one had noticed the noise except him. Bah, it was probably rats, no need to bother. An hour later, as he was finishing his second draft of the meeting with the king of the moonlit sea, he heard some noise once again. And sadly, this time, someone else heard them too. "Ok, Brad isn''t there so I''ll just say it: I heard something." "Jerome, I''m not Brad, but shut up. First, you have your defective jacket, you don''t even know the gang''s name, you heard something yesterday too and there was nothing and now this? Get a grip, man." "Sorry Bob, but for once, I think Jerome''s right." "Et Tu, Joe?" "I''m serious Bob, I heard something too. Probably just rats though." "But you know the rules." "To my great displeasure, yes, I do." "Not me!" "We have to check the source of any noise, Jerome." "But that''s dumb! What if a guy just threw a rock, waited for us to go check, and then sneaked in?" "That''s absurd, Jerome. Besides, it''s not like we''re the only guards here. There''s also Jane and Moe." ""Yo."" "See? So, who''s going?" "Would Brad be mad if I did it?" "..." "I would say ''yes''. Joe?" "Can''t you do it?" "Ah, you know, my poor, poor lungs." "Bob, I mean this in the nicest way possible: I will hit you with a chair once we''re done." Joe got up and began to wander around in the warehouse, checking the crates as he passed. At one point he even thought he saw something moving in the dark but, when he went to check, there was absolutely nothing. He did notice an open crate, though - just one filled with rubbish from past uses of the place. "Don''t think there''s anything, guys. Just one of the trash crates open." "Jerome, did you take something?" "No, of course not. At least I think." "Jerome." "Hey, I get yelled at so often that sometimes I just zone out. Maybe I took something then." "So can we all agree I did my job and can go back to writin- I mean guarding?" "Sure Joe, sure." As he was about to go sit back down, Joe noticed it in the corner of his eye: a lone, really small grey rat, sniffing at a crate''s opening. "Nevermind, found it. And yeah, it''s a rat." The rat froze at his words. Well, that was weird. Wait, no, it wasn''t, it was just scared by the noise and afraid of him now that its cover was blown. "What do we do?" "Kill it?'' Just as Joe was getting ready to answer a crash echoed in the warehouse. Joe and all of the guards turned around and were horrified by what they saw: a silvery mechanical spider the size of a dog. It had apparently just made a crate fall by accident, judging by the wads of tickets everywhere on the ground. Joe took a step back, the rat completely forgotten and the loads of cash before him simply just not registering in his brain, for he had only one thought on his mind. "The Empress." The spider screeched and began to skitter towards the guards, guards which began to run away as soon as the spider started moving. Their yells and the spider''s screeching attracted the outside guards'' attention, as well as Brad and Mickey''s. "Shoot it, you idiots! SHOOT!" The thugs that had just come in began to fire, trying to aim at the still skittering spider that slalomed between the crates, running towards the exit. When their bullets finally made contact with the robot, it was not relief but fear that spread: each and every bullet that hit the spider''s silvery body just bounced off, encasing themselves in the crates'' wooden frames. Mickey ran ahead, thick black claws growing on his fingers and even his toes, piercing his shoes, and tried to fight the mechanical beast head-on. He threw a punch, aiming to crush the thing, but it lept off at the last moment, landing on his back before using him as a jumping pad. When Brad saw it leaping at him he threw himself on the ground to avoid it. Screams, yells, and screeching spread all around, the inhabitants of the slums surrounding the warehouse were wary, what could possibly threaten the Blood Angels? Would the fight affect them too? Finally, the spider exited the warehouse, it looked around for a second before skittering towards the road, stopping just shy of a sewer inlet. It tried going down but got stuck past its head, forcing it to awkwardly dig and bend the entrance''s metal to make space for the rest of its body. Bullets continued to rain on it - despite their uselessness - and Mickey rushed in towards its large silvery behind, readying his fist for a smashing hit but, just as he began to lower his arm, the spider passed, narrowly escaping the fist that was now firmly encased in concrete. Mickey tried to catch it with his free arm but it was too late, his clawed hand only caught air. He could still hear the thing running and screeching down the tunnels. He growled and smashed the ground, shattering it and freeing his arm from its concrete prison of its own making. "It got away!" "Come back Mickey, there could be more hiding around! You two, patrol the surroundings, you three, watch over every possible entrance, and you two, go check on the inventory, we have to know what was stolen!" ""Yes sir!"" "No one messes with the Blood Angels! Not even the Empress!" Down in the sewers, James let out a sigh of relief. Well, that was a bit more frightening than anticipated. He turned into a gas to escape through the gaps of the defunct spider he had just used as armor before reassuming his humanoid form. That thing is really constricting. and sneaking it in was really hard. Still, it worked, it provided sufficient armor to protect me and even threw them off, though I wonder who this Empress is. This isn''t an empire, is it? That would be quite annoying. James stretched back, nearly forming a "n" like figure, to work out the kinks in his non-existent spine. Still, I''ll have to have a word with David, getting noticed so early isn''t his style normally and could have been really dangerous. And so, James'' - or Silhouette''s - first plot had succeeded, all that was left to do was sort through the loot. And so he returned home, taking care to empty the spider''s storage unit in the cache he had prepared before carrying it back in a bag-like mass at the end of a tentacle, blissfully spared from the constant yells and screams still ongoing on the surface. Chapter 9 : Consequences "I''m home everyone!" ""Squeaks!"" James entered the nest, currently transformed into a liquid mass, and put down the mechanical spider he was still carrying before solidifying and taking on his humanoid form. He bent and twisted to work out non-existent kinks in his non-existent bones, old habits die hard after all. "Is everyone ok? No one''s hurt?" "Squeak!" "Splendid!" James approached the ratlings and "knelt" down as they sat on their haunches to be - roughly - face to face. "You all did a great job, I''m very proud of you." "Squeak!" All of the ratlings held their heads high, even Goliath, who had "only" taken the loot already put into the tunnel by his siblings and brought it to the cache, was proud of himself - every member of a bucket chain is important, after all. Though, looking again, there was one ratling who didn''t seem as pleased as the others about their contribution to the heist. A ratling who, instead of boasting, was currently looking at the ground, avoiding James'' gaze - had he had eyes and not sensed the world with some kind of sphere-like "domain", of course. "Are you alright, David?" The small young male rat flinched when hearing his name, still avoiding looking at James'' face. "I know stealth is more Lucille''s thing but, what happened? You should have been quick enough to avoid getting noticed, especially since they were so distracted." The rat said nothing, only turning his head the other way. "Why were you even sniffing this crate? It wasn''t one of the ones I told you about. I can understand confusing it for one at the start, but near the end? When every crate we wanted to steal from has already been opened at least once?" Once more, silence. The ratlings looked at their sibling, uneased by the situation. "Look, I''m not mad, David, nor disappointed. I just want to understand, I''m worried about-" James stopped talking. It had finally clicked. "It was one of the crates filled with Red Dust, wasn''t it?" Again, David flinched. James looked at him without saying a word for what felt like minutes before finally speaking once more, his voice cold and devoid of all emotion. "We will talk about this later. For now, let us go check on what we managed to take. David, you stay here. Goliath, do you wish to watch over your brother?" The larger-than-normal ratling looked at James then David, his gaze going from to one to the other a few times, before nodding. "Thank you, Goliath. Lucille, Blanche, Foudre, let''s go." James turned into his Skitter form and walked out of the nest, followed by the three rat sisters, to go to the dug tunnel''s cache. Goliath watched them go before turning towards his younger brother, a worried look in his eyes. David didn''t even face him and simply walked away, settling down in a corner of the nest and curling up, showing his back, brooding. Goliath sighed before going to the defunct mechanical spider and messing around with it, never leaving his brother out of sight for long. Silence filled the nest, only occasionally broken by the creaking of metal plates and pieces. The trip to the cache was just as silent as the nest, even the local fauna seemed to perceive James'' bad mood and avoided him like the plague - though, considering where they were, some of them may have already had it. The only thing that hadn''t picked up on the hint was a cockroach the size of a small dog, like the mechanical spider. Unlike the spider, however, it wasn''t made of metal, allowing James'' hardening technique to show its worth. The Skitter body jumped high, narrowly evading the cockroach''s mad charge, before dropping back down, all four tentacles tips as hard as bones - even as hard as metal on the very very tips - and pierced the stupid insect in four vital spots. The fight had lasted less than a minute, the ratlings didn''t even have the time to react. James grew another four tentacles to hold the cockroach''s corpse, after all, he may have been angry but he was still sensible enough to know better than leave potential food to scavengers and opportunists. Once they finally reached the base of the tunnel, an issue arose: the cockroach was too large to pass through. James had no choice but to enlarge the entrance if he wanted to keep the corpse out of harm''s way- Or cut it into pieces. That worked too. The supplementary tentacles each carried a piece, each one leaking goop everywhere as he moved forward. James put the cut-up corpse down once they reached the cache, wiped his sticky tentacles on the walls to get rid of the remaining insect juice covering them, and began to sort through the ill-gotten loot, still under the sisters'' gaze. James began by picking up the wads of money, quickly sorting between the real and fake ones to make two different piles. There was even a third "pile", only a dozen tickets or so, made out of the ones he had infused with shadows to serve as trackers. The tickets still looked the same, only a slightly darker shade of purple marking a difference, but James didn''t want to risk it and leave these things in the thugs'' hands, just in case they had some way to use them to track HIM down. Money was always good, of course, but in the short term, this was the less useful loot of the heist. The next item on the list was the pair of guns and the corresponding ammo, slightly more useful loot but still things James felt like he wouldn''t need to use. He couldn''t fire them to test if they worked correctly - they were still trying to hide after all, and this tunnel was still connected to the warehouse - and had absolutely no knowledge on firearms besides the usual stuff in fiction, but these looked good. He began to inspect them using his shadows and found no particular device that could potentially be used to locate the guns, he did get a new idea, however, what if he tried infusing these with shadows? He would only do half of the ammunition and one gun, to test out the differences later. Infusing the ammo was easy, he could even do it en masse, as he had done with the stone. The only somewhat annoying thing was that he needed to infuse the casing before infusing the content of the bullets but, since both were quicker to do than rock, it was a non-issue. As expected, they turned darker in the process. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The gun, however, proved to be somewhat of a challenge. It was much more complex than a brick or a bullet and each mechanism needed some focus to be fully converted, but ultimately it was just a matter of time and concentration. Though, seeing how awkward it was to infuse a simple gun, James was glad he hadn''t tried this procedure on the spider yet - what if it broke it? The newly enhanced gun was, again, a darker copy of the original. It was still closer to the original process on stones, where bad quality materials got enhanced into something better - in the case of old dusty stones, black marble - than the bullet, which had stayed the exact same besides the obvious color shift. The normal gun was already black and had a plastic-y look, not quite fake but still something cheap enough to make in large quantities. The infused one, however, had a more metallic feel to it, with some reflections and even a few engravings for some reason, probably the same reason infused bricks had perfect cuts even if they used to be a pile of dust. "I don''t think they could trace back these, same with the money, it should be safe to bring those back home." The sisters nodded as James put the gun down and took a look at the last pile of loot, the various knick-knacks that didn''t seem particularly valuable to the thugs - ironically, the items James had the most hopes for. Regular tools like screwdrivers, hammers and wrenches, nuts, bolts, nails, screws, batteries, some odd scraps of metal James couldn''t identify - overall, stuff you would find in a hobbyist engineer or inventor''s garage. There was even a welding mask and the associated gloves and blowtorch - though the latter sounded empty. Honestly, James had no idea what most of this stuff was used for and neither did his new instincts. If he wanted to make those useful he would have to mess around with it. Still, there were a few more items that got his full attention Three phones, all three black. They had a touch screen and were thankfully very similar to his old world''s ones, the main difference being the logo on the back: a white "X", all four of its branches pointing to the left, and a "C" surrounding a slightly smaller "O", making the logo look like some kind of stylized amoeba about to eat something. Now was the time of truth. James tried to turn them on, one by one. First phone, no success. Second phone, no success. Third phone- A rumbling sound resonated through the tunnel, something was happening on the surface. James left the cache, taking the ratlings in his tentacle-arms, quickly infused the cache in shadows while breaking off a section of the tunnel which he also infused before using the newly acquired rocks to cover the cache''s entrance and fusing them all together. Once done, he rushed away.
Joe and his pals, standing in line, looked up to the sky. They had NOT expected the gang to react so quickly, especially not by sending a helicopter, if the loud monstrosity flying in the sky could be considered one. It looked like someone had taken an actual helicopter''s carcass and repaired it using nothing but car, boat, and even a few tank pieces found in an old abandoned scrapyard - which, now that Joe thought about it, was probably exactly what happened. The ugly, rusty thing landed, or more accurately lightly fell down, and a man got out. And no one was pleased or glad to see who the gang had sent to check on the situation, no, in fact, they were all quite horrified. A sleek, black and spiky robotic suit, the joints way too thin to fit an actual human body, lit by some gaps and small circular openings in the armor revealing glowing orange insides in a way Joe could only describe as forge-like. There was a small black emblem where the heart should be, in the classic shield shape, with the gang''s haloed skull crying blood - except this one also had red dots in its orbits and was grinning maniacally. The only part of the suit that didn''t look robotic was the head, in fact, the suit stopped at the nose like a gas mask, exposing the rest of the man''s head to the world: very short dark gray hair, some light wrinkles, a pair of cold blues eyes and a couple of small scars. When the man spoke, there was a clear yet not overly stereotypical Draskian accent - though James would probably have described it as Russian - in his deep voice, barely muffled by the gas mask. "Who is the man in charge here?" Brad stepped up from the line. "I-I am, Mr. Sunburn sir." The man, Sunburn, scoffed. "Acceptable. I overheard the basic reports and wanted to check myself, what happened?" "We got raided by one of the Empress'' Collectors, sir." "You''re sure of that?" "Yes sir, I got briefed on potential threats when I was chosen to oversee this operation, it was a silver mechanical spider, between a cat''s and a dog''s size, sir. It also had the matching screech once its cover was blown." "Any particular sign?" "Ah, yes sir, its eyes lacked the usual red glow." Sunburn scratched his chin with one of his gauntlet-like hands. "Potentially in stealth mode. It escaped, correct?" "Ye-Yes, sir. It escaped, despite our best attempts at catching it. Our Cored guard, Mickey, almost destroyed it though-" "And he failed. Have you checked the merchandise yet?" "Yes sir! No Red Dust was stolen, thankfully." "And the rest?" "We... weren''t quite so lucky. A pair of pistols and some ammunition were stolen, though those are just a drop in the bucket compared to what is stored, and some old stuff left from previous occupations. But, our main loss is..." "Money. Lots of money." "B-But! Sir, if I may? When checking on how much was stolen, my men realized most of it was printed, fake. Only the bare minimum was real, just enough to pass our security checks." Sunburn frowned at that. "So you''re proud of the fact that only that was stolen was money, money which was mostly fake because of your general incompetence?" "W-Well... When you put it like that..." Sunburn scoffed once more before waving his hand. "Bah, you''re not exactly wrong, losing the Dust would have been much more problematic. We will have to launch a little witch hunt, though. Can''t let anyone get away with tricking the Blood Angels." "Y-Yes, sir." "Not you. You and your men are barely what I''d consider an actual team, you''re the left-overs, grunt workers, at best." "I''m sorry sir, I-" "But, I will tolerate this level of mediocrity. This time. Only one real Cored, not even Super level, one specialized in brute force, against one of the Empress'' Collectors, even a Small one? There being no casualty or loss of Dust is good enough." "Oh thank you, sir-" "I''ll just ask your team a couple of questions before going on my way." "O-Oh, very well sir." Sunburn walked past Brad and began examining the rest of the thugs, his gaze lingering a little longer on Mickey. "Which one of you was in charge of checking the money?" Jerome raised his hand with no hesitation, Joe guessed he probably didn''t realize who was the man facing them. "Which one of you was the one to notice the intruder?" The guards exchanged glances, not quite sure on how to respond before, once more, Jerome opened his big mouth. "We all saw it at the same time, sir, when it made a box fall. But maybe Joe and me heard it before that? We both heard something at the same time, when Joe went to check it was only a rat, so I''m not sure." Sunburn stared at Jerome before searching for Joe in the line. His slight flinch when his eyes met the Draskian''s cold blue ones gave his position away. "Joe, I suppose? Is your colleague correct?" "W-why, yes sir-" "No." Joe froze at that, Sunburn''s cold gaze beginning to gain something that scared Joe to the core - a hint of anger. "N-no, sir?" "You''re lying, I can tell." "Well, I... I may have... Heard something before that? I just didn''t think it was important so-" "How long." "W-Well, I''m not exactly sure-" "How. Long." "M-Maybe... One hour?" Silence filled the street. Even Brad''s and Mickey''s faces had turned pale. It took a few seconds before something happened : Sunburn rolled his neck. "Joe, was it? You may have noticed that I did not erupt in anger or harm your colleague despite his clear feats of incompetence. Why?" He turned some dial on the top of his torso and the black metal plates constituting the gas-mask apparatus on his face began to retract and merge with the rest of the armor, revealing what was hidden underneath. A melted face. Scarred reddened flesh, burnt to a crisp, a lipless mouth with exposed gums and no cheeks, letting all see through the hole between the mandible and the rest of the skull. No nose, only a hole. Only the parts of his face that were already exposed - those normally covered by a domino mask - were free of any damage. "I know what making mistakes is like. I can forgive failing. I can forgive incompetence." Sunburn stepped forth and lifted Joe by the collar. "I do not tolerate apathy." Joe ignited. The fire burned, flames consuming his flesh, his clothes, his hair, his notebook, his everything. It hurt. It hurt so much. The fire burned, the fire burned, THE FIRE BURNED- Sunburn dropped Joe on the ground, all of the flames disappearing in a blink of an eye and yet the damage remaining. Joe was alive for he breathed, barely, only a crispy husk of a man. "Bring him to the Patcher, they always need new patients. And who knows, if the punk''s lucky, they might even fix him." All of the remaining thugs gulped as Sunburn put his mask back on and got back up in his helicopter. Everyone in the slums knew where the Patcher lived. Because no one ever wanted to go there. Chapter 10 : Sunburn and Moonfreeze The metallic monstrosity the likes of which could only be described as a flying scrapyard rose high in the sky, leaving the warehouse and the thugs behind. The thing was so loud that each rotation of its blades sounded like a bomb, and yet, the insides were fully silent - a neat little feat of magic that the pilot was thankful for, though Sunburn didn''t care all that much. Draskian forges were MUCH louder. The pilot''s seat and the passengers'' area were separated by a wall of metal, one that was also affected by the sound-proofing enchantment. Said passengers'' area was also normally pitch black, devoid of any light due to the vehicle''s unique origins, but it didn''t bother Sunburn either, he was his own light source thanks to the glowing spots of his armor after all. And so, as the "helicopter" flew above Zalcien''s slums, Sunburn took off the emblem on his chest plate from the rest of his suit, a spinning cable emerging to connect the two, and began to press on the skull emblazoned on it before speaking. "Sunburn, reporting." An energetic high-pitched voice overran by statics answered him. "Sunburn! Done inspecting that stealing thing? How many guys did you kill this time?" "Stop speaking as if I went around incinerating everyone I saw." "So, no one died?" "No. He was still breathing when I left." "Ha! Called it!" He had to suppress a sigh. She was just so... So... Childish. It was no wonder most people didn''t realize she was the brain behind the Blood Angels, instead thinking all of the planning was either done by him, which was understandable considering his background though in truth he had no idea on how to run a gang, or Marcus. How anyone thought that lunatic could run anything on his own was the greatest mystery in Zalcien. "May we focus on the matter at hand?" "Yeah, yeah. So, was it the Empress?" "I''m not sure." "Oh?" "The men''s description matches, they were definitely attacked by a Small Collector, but something doesn''t fit." "What''s troubling you?" "Well, for one, they said its eyes didn''t glow. And the fact no one died-" "Wait, no glowing? That doesn''t make sense!" "I know, I never saw any of these things without it. Even the Knights and their mounts have it!" "No, you don''t understand: the glow isn''t just some fancy addition, it is a direct side-effect of the power source. No glow means no alimentation, no power, in other words, it''s kaput, broken." Well, that one was new. He never bothered to learn how these things worked since nothing could directly mess with whatever was powering them up, but knowing that now explained why those that went invisible still had glowing eyes too. "So someone copied the Empress to fool us?" "I''m not sure, what did they say it looked like?" "A silvery mechanical spider the size of a large cat or a small dog, bullets bounced off its plates, it was quick and agile and, once noticed, screeched madly." "Okay, only the Empress can make such a small robot bullet-proof and agile at the same time around here. So, it''s definitely a Small Collector''s frame, the question now is ''what''s inside?'' Shoot, and here I was, glad we finally got an excuse to show miss upity-nobility her place." "You may be pleased to know we still have a witch hunt planned, someone still tried to trick us, after all." "You mean, besides whoever''s behind that attack?" "Yes, most of the money we got paid with was fake, copied, worthless." "Oooh, now THAT''s good news. I get to bring out the good ol'' cryoguns!" "You are aware getting scammed is supposed to be negative, correct?" "Oh, I am VERY mad! So mad, in fact, that I will now begin to look into who gave us that fake money and prepare the ''interrogation'' squads. Toodles, Sunburn!" "Yes, see you at the base, Moonfreeze." The connection cut, Sunburn placed back the emblem on its usual place before sighing. He couldn''t deny that she was good at her job, but really, Moonfreeze always found a way to annoy him somehow - she even ripped off his alias, the nerve of that girl! He always missed Draskia in one way or another, but only she could make him miss the tax on the number of words spoken per day. He reached into a box hidden beneath one of the seats and had a bottle of classic Draskian alcohol in his hand when he pulled it out: Forgewater. He popped it open before unhitching an opening on his mask, a long bendy straw appearing. He delicately dropped it in his precious Forgewater - the good stuff was nearly impossible to import in this accursed country - before slurping up its delicious, throat-destroying contents - which would probably be lethal to any Coreless in Zalcien. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Still, as he drank his daily dose of alcohol to deal with Moonfreeze''s shenanigans, he couldn''t fully get this whole heist out of his mind. He had the unnerving, familiar feeling something was about to change. Zalcien''s power balance would be rewritten, and he knew better than to hope that the Blood Angels would get their share of the prize - at least, not without a fight. It''s how he got in this state, after all.
James listened closely. It had been fifteen minutes since the tunnel they had dug and its cache had been filled with a strange, loud rumbling noise and he had taken the ratling sisters away to safety, waiting a healthy distance away from the tunnel''s entrance. Oh, the noise had quickly disappeared and nothing had come down the tunnel, but James had seen enough movies where a similar situation occurred to know that getting out as soon as the coast seemed clear was a dumb idea. It''s always at this point that people got caught. And he had been right, whatever it was that had made that noise, after the initial silence, it had begun anew for a short while before stopping once more. Still, nothing came down the tunnel - no toxic gas, no acid wave, no flames. But hey, better wait a little longer than get caught. The sisters were starting to get a little restless, they didn''t like not doing anything for so long. Since the coast seemed clear even after waiting for so long, James agreed to release them and go back to the cache to finish his loot examination, though he had to wait a couple minutes for the sisters to stop running around to exercise their muscles. It didn''t take long to climb back up the tunnel and open the cache and he was ready to finish his task. But, now that he got exposed to stress and wasn''t as desperate to feel like he was part of a society, James realized that powering up a phone within a hidden location that he wished to keep hidden was a terrible idea, he would get located faster than oil by the USA. So, he picked up the phones and the giant cockroach pieces he had left behind in the cache and left. He led the ratlings back home, where he fed the pieces to the rats, David still curled up in a corner and avoiding his gaze, before leaving once more, leaving all of the ratlings behind, to finish testing out the phones he had stolen - away from the nest and their usual hunting grounds. And so he went, going in a straight line at first then zigzagging in the tunnels, ensuring no one could directly link the area he would be in with the nest. He passed by quite a lot of sewer fauna once more, James was sure he even saw a large scaly mass move beneath the waters at some point. Whether this was his old giant crocodile acquaintance or another reptilian sewage-dweller, he didn''t know. Once he felt he was far enough, James quickly tried powering up the phones again. The first one failed and, when the second one did too, James really hoped he had just been unlucky and had started by the same two ones as in the cache. The third attempt crushed his hopes, however. None of the phones worked. If James had to hazard a guess, they probably weren''t charged, and down there, he had no chance to fill up their batteries and, despite having those in the cache, compatibility wasn''t guaranteed. So, what did James do whenever there was a problem he didn''t know how to fix? Why, try infusing it with shadows of course! Which is exactly what he did. He pocketed two of the phones in a pouch he had just formed in his body before trying his go-to tactic on the third one, already dreading how hard it would be. James took in a metaphorical deep breath before beginning. First, he transformed the tentacle with which he was holding the phone, ensuring its entire surface was covered. Then, he began to channel in his shadows, purposefully making the process slower than usual to avoid making any mistakes. First, the shadows spread in the external parts, the easiest to do, the simple things such as the screen and the plastic case. Then, they began to envelop the wires, still simple though numerous and linked to more complex components. Next came complex parts, the mic, the battery - which definitely felt empty now that his shadows got in - the speakers, all things that required focus but were still manageable. Finally, the hardest part : the actual software, electronic chips and circuits. He had to ensure the darkness flowed correctly, going the right way, not overloading anything, slowly slipping into the various components, he had no way of selecting the tracking part to destroy it since he had no idea what it was but willed his shadows to ensure no one would locate the phone - hey, it didn''t cost anything to try. James had no idea how long it took but, finally, after what felt like hours, he was done infusing the phone - and, despite the fatigue, it filled him with childish glee. It was the first time he ever felt exhausted since becoming a shadowy blob and, at this point, he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. His form began to slouch and even melt, making it harder to stay composed, and for whatever reason couldn''t phase into the shadows like usual. It probably wasn''t related to the fact his mind felt mushy, no. Absolutely not. So, since legs felt like too much of a bother, he went back to the good old sludge body, only keeping a somewhat humanoid silhouette on the upper body to feel more awake - he was worried he would just sleep on the spot if he let himself fully devolve into a slug-sludge, or was it sludge-slug? Eh, sludge. No, wait. Why was he so focused on this? He really shouldn''t bother with these funny words right now, he had places to go! He began to merrily slither, slide and crawl his way home under the curious gazes of the sewers'' fauna - and even a small part of the flora, too! The vines with an eyeball-like fruit were so funny to see move, dancing left and right, it felt almost hypnotic. It drew him away from the reptilian eye watching him with disdain beneath the waters. Eh, "hypnotic". That''s a funny word. Wait, no, focus James. You have to get back home. But it''s so faaar. Hearing himself think woke James up a little and, even in his groggy state, he had the mental focus to form a tentacle to slap himself with. Focus, James. It''s just like delivering pizzas on New Year''s Eve! Keep your goal in mind and it''ll be fine! James ignored the funny swaying vines with an eyeball - which, had he looked closely, was not part of the plant but held by it - and the rest of the weird animals wandering in the sewers. The reptilian eye, still hidden beneath the sewage''s surface, went from disgust to appreciation. The black shadowy creature currently stumbling around like it was filled with some kind of poison wasn''t as weak as it had seemed. It may even be less stupid than those two-legged things that ran around causing trouble in her territory from time to time. She was glad to have spared the little thing when she first saw it. Yes, it truly had potential and, from its interactions with the little furballs she had seen it with, may even belong to those entities who like to take care of others. It probably wouldn''t challenge her authority too, which was fine. She didn''t mind challengers but she was molting right now and her scales were way too itchy to make any kind of fight enjoyable. She simply watched it go, ignoring the hypnotic sway of the Trickster Vines - she would have to rip some of those off afterward, she didn''t like these growing in the most peaceful areas of the sewers. Yes, that funny shadowy thing may provide great entertainment. Plus, she could tell it wanted to cause no harm. It was a prey with a predator''s body. Unseen to James, The Marked left the canal she was hiding in, taking care to follow him on his way home, scaring away all of the most dangerous things lurking in the sewers - it would have been a shame to spare him only for something in her territory to snatch him up afterward, right? Blind to his crocodilian guardian, James crawled and stumbled on. Chapter 11 : Zalcien Wide Web James'' head hurt, a lot. He felt like he had taken a pounding before being dunked into a sea of beer, being denied of any alcoholic pleasures, and only suffering from the worst side effects. Hell, he was so groggy it took him a full minute to realize he was back at the nest and that all five of the ratlings were worriedly looking at him. He began to rise from the puddle in which he had slept, all of his goop hurting like his back sometimes did after he didn''t sleep well, and - roughly - turned back into his humanoid form, though much more slouched than usual. "Hugh... Note to self: never attempt to infuse with shadows anything more complex than a toaster." The ratlings rejoiced at seeing him awake, even David couldn''t help but let out a squeak of excitement before remembering he was supposed to brood and walking away to his corner, though this time he didn''t try to avoid James'' gaze. "Hum... Hello everyone..." ""Squeaks!"" "I''ll assume this means ''good morning''... Or ''afternoon''... Or ''night''... How long did I sleep?" Goliath began trying to count on his paws - James didn''t remember teaching them how to do that - before Lucille interrupted, pointing to a corner of the nest. There, lying next to the mechanical spider - which was in a different pose than last time, another weird thing to add to the list - were the remains of the giant cockroach he had slain. Giant cockroach which was the size of a large dog. Giant cockroach which should have been enough to feed the ratlings for a day or two. Giant cockroach that was now only pieces of chitin - and a weird green orb for some reason? "Oh." James turned toward the rats. "How long ago did you finish it?" Lucille began to scratch the chin of her snout before Goliath interrupted, making a two with his adorable little paws - no, now wasn''t the time for James to appreciate the young rat''s cuteness. "Two hours?" Goliath shook his head. "TWO DAYS?! Ah, no screaming, headache, right." Goliath nodded. "Two days since you finished that thing, which probably took you a day to do, so three days?" Goliath waved his hand, gesturing that James was close. "Three days of sleep, grogginess, and a headache for a single phone? Gosh, infusing that spider would have killed me..." All of the ratlings raised their heads, reacting in worry to James'' words. They didn''t want to lose a parent again. Goliath and David even began to cry. "Wait, no, don''t worry, I won''t try it. Shuuush, come here now, it''ll be fine." James formed tentacles, grabbing all of the ratlings and hugging them together all at once, close to his chest. They held like that for an entire minute before James'' exhausted mind caught on to a couple of things. "Wait, how do you know how many days passed? There''s no sun down here. And how do you even know how to count? AND to show what number you''re thinking of?" James undid his tentacles, releasing the ratlings, who exchanged a few guilty glances, David even tried to whistle while looking at the ceiling - which was definitely not natural rat behavior. "Why can''t I help but feel like you all did something dangerous and stupid?" Then it hit him. "Wait." Had he taken the phones? As groggy as he was maybe he dropped them but, it didn''t feel right. He had turned into sludge and partially melted, so his body should have been sticky. They should have stayed inside. And, looking closer, he found the two normal ones were indeed right there, stacked on top of each other in a small corner of the nest the ratlings had apparently turned a storage area for all of their ill-gotten loot. "But where''s the third one? Don''t tell me..." And yes, there it was, set up on the spider''s head to hold it in place like a screen. "Don''t tell me you used it?! Ah, my head." James flinched and sat back down, rubbing his temps with a pair of tentacles. Goliath quickly rushed next to him and began to rub himself on James'' foot-leg-thing - whatever it was it connected his body to the ground. "Oh, thank you Goliath- Wait, I''m still mad. Do any of you have any idea how dangerous that was?" The ratlings shook their heads, except for David who just shrugged. "I filled that thing with shadows, imagine what could have happened if I had done it wrong! It could have exploded!" James'' declaration was met with five tilted heads. He let out a sigh before mimicking an explosion with his body, forming a small bubble that grew before bursting - and did it again, this time with five small figures to represent the rats getting blown away since the bubble alone had no effect. "Or worse! I have no idea how these things would interact with your bodies!" A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The rats at least had the decency to look ashamed, holding their heads down. Was David rotating his heel? "This thing could also have given away our location! Someone could have to take it back or use it to spy on us!" Now the rats were directly facing him, trying to appease him by making big eyes. James held strong, his will unshaken- For a few seconds. "Fine, fine. Try not to do it again, alright? It was really dangerous." They all nodded before Lucille pointed her paw at him. "Yes, I won''t try infusing shadows into overly complex items anymore, okay?" Lucille was pleased, crossing her arms- wait, no, her forelegs. And, now that everything was fine and everyone was happy again, Goliath was excited to show James all of the things they had done with the phone, taking some of his body in his paw to try to pull him to the device, making him chuckle. "Yes, Goliath, I''m coming, I''m coming." Once they reached the phone, Goliath gestured to him to sit down and let him handle it, which James did. The young rat climbed up the spider''s leg before standing on his hind legs on its head. He pressed the phone central button and the screen lit up. It was pretty simple: a generic background - some kind of mountain at dawn - and basic information, such as wifi, battery, hour, and date - the latter two indicating it was currently two in the morning on a Tuesday. There were a couple of oddities, however, namely that they apparently had wifi down in the sewers - which sounded surprising but James didn''t know enough about the inner workings of sewers and wifi signals to say it was abnormal - and that the battery was full and even charging, with a small black pearl symbol next to it. "Uh, I have no idea what that black pearl is." Goliath shrugged before swiping on the screen, directly going to the home page without any sort of code input - there probably was none in the first place and James doubted the ratlings would know how to make one, nevertheless why. There were a couple of apps, all of which seemed like default ones - again, the ratlings probably had no idea on how to download anything. They knew how to use the Internet, however, going by the fact that Goliath had no trouble opening a page in a browser James had never seen before, with a little spider with large beady eyes as a logo. Goliath then began to show him the browser''s front page, mostly news, recommended videos, and the likes. The news is what really got James'' attention. "Zalcien''s Hero Union is recruiting! Are YOU the next big-time Hero?" "The Hero Union''s Hall is recruiting, could your neighbor be a Hero?" "Top ten Villains who the public likes the most!" "Warning! Sunburn has broken out of Zalcien''s Center for Super Criminals! Look out for fires!" "Krustian Craboff and Squila Sharem seen together at The Ocean Palace! Are the two sea-stars dating?" "Senator Sigmund advocates for the suppression of the tax on superweapons." "Xenocorp''s new breakthrough: a drug to help Core formation." "Vigilantes: unsung Heroes or charismatic Villains?" "Mecha Man''s new record: three months without a rogue invention." "Technotips'' new invention could render Heroes useless! Find out why!" "Hivines: cult, religion, philosophy of life or Villainous scam? The latter is the most likely." "Abrakaboom strikes again! Fifth time Zalcien''s Museum of Explosives needs to be rebuilt this year alone." "Blood Angels: how small gangs can rival major Villains." "What truly happened to Natrashka: what the Hero Union and Xenocorp don''t want you to know." "The Empress'' current inactivity: what is Zalcien''s biggest Villain''s next plan?" "Should robots lose citizenship? Doctor Ivan Decanov says no before threatening ''whoever had that idiotic idea''." "Experts are concerned about the rise of Villainy, Hero Union claims there is ''no need to worry''." "Is a war between Draskia and the ACS in the brewing?" "Well... That''s quite a lot of Hero and Villain talk. I''m guessing this isn''t about a movie, is it?" Goliath shrugged before tapping his little paw on a recommended video, a program for children to learn numbers and the alphabet. "Oh, THIS is what you wanted to show me..." Goliath turned around, worried James was disappointed. "Oh, no, this is very good! I''m glad you all began to educate yourselves!" Goliath was recomforted and pleased, even having a little smug look on his ratty snout. "Oh, and David." David, who was currently trying to sneak away to avoid the conversation he knew was coming, flinched and froze. Of course, James would notice him. Of. Course. "We need to talk about what happened that day." "Squeak." "I''m sorry." "Squ-Squeak?" "I am sorry I avoided the conversation and ignored what you could have said to defend yourself. I''m still mad that you didn''t follow the plan and put us all in danger, just because you were interested in those... Drugs." The young rat had the decency to be ashamed, or at least look the part. "So here''s what we are going to do: from now on, whenever I''m not around, Lucille is in charge. If that''s fine with you, Blanche, Foudre, Goliath?" The three ratlings nodded. "Good. If you ever disobey her orders, David, you will be punished. You will also be punished if you ever try to take any drugs. Are we clear?" "Squeak." "Also, you will never get to stay alone - for now. There will always be someone to check on you. Which also means no hunting trips in the dead of night when everyone else is asleep." James had seen him do it a couple of times and had tolerated it, before the incident. Sure, he had discreetly followed, and therefore David had never been truly alone, but HE didn''t need to know that. "If we are clear, then this is the extent of your punishment, for now." David nodded solemnly. He hadn''t seen James truly angry so far and he didn''t want to be the thing that would madden his kind soul. "Well then, shall we finish our little loot inspection? I''m sure we could find some things for all of you." At this, several young, small furry mammals - as well as a few black tentacles, James was just as curious - jumped into the neatly organized piles of items, much to Lucille''s displeasure. She had been the one to organize them in the first place. Oh well, they had already been turned into a mess, might as well partake in the fun. Blanche quickly found a nice little spike, probably some kind of long nail. She probably could - and, let''s be honest, would - use it as a spear or a lance. She only seemed somewhat grumpy about its rusty state. Goliath found a few odd pieces of scraps, bent and broken which, once pulled together with some strings, provided a basic form of protection. It was closer to the safeties used when riding a bike than actual armor but Goliath was glad to have it. Foudre took a special interest in the batteries, asking Goliath to fiddle with them and some wires to somehow produce a contraption that looked like a backpack from which extended a pair of wires, each one connected to a small needle with a leather handle. All in all, it looked like someone had taken a flamethrower and replaced the gun-like part with two daggers. David didn''t seem interested in most of the loot, only taking a few minuscule scraps to make metal claws, a set of four for each of his paws. Lucille looked around for a bit but didn''t seem to find anything that fit her, only reluctantly taking a pair of needles, a bit longer than Foudre''s but still smaller than nails, and quickly trying to sharpen them with a piece of scrap. James watched over them, studying each of their choices, getting quite surprised at how creative they could be with this stuff - especially Goliath, the armor was one thing but improvising some kind of shocking device out of scraps was remarkable - before taking a decision. "So, is everyone happy with what they chose?" ""Squeaks!"" "Good, good. Let''s try improving them, though. And he infused all of their equipment with shadows. Chapter 12 : Training...? James infused the ratlings'' newly-made equipment with shadows. Or at least, tried to. "Argh! My head!" James formed a dozen of small tentacles to massage his head in a vain attempt at easing the pain, which proved to be an efficient placebo, at best - it wasn''t a brain located in his head that was hurting, after all, but his Core. The ratlings gasped before piling up on James to try and comfort him, their paws partially sinking in his goo-like body. "I''m fine, I''m fine... Ugh... So, taking my infusing ability a little too far not only blocked regular shadow shifting but also shadow manipulation and infusion? Yeah, makes sense. It''s a pain though. Literally." James took the rats with his numerous appendages and lowered them down on the ground before kneeling to properly face them. "Sorry kids, looks like I won''t be able to upgrade all of your stuff for now." Lucille and Goliath were more worried about him than their newfound items, whereas David hadn''t cared all that much in the first place. Foudre and Blanche, meanwhile, were a bit disappointed the scraps they had would have to stay a misshapen mess for now. "But hey, I''m sure we can do other things until I can infuse stuff again. We could train, hunt, try to scavenge more stuff..." Quite a lot of small, high-pitched ratty groans were a clear indicator of what the young ones thought of his ideas. Goliath even tried doing the puppy eyes, again. "Or watch a movie or something. Fine. But only one, then it''s back to work!"
"Captain Cyan''s Culling of Curious Catastrophes, Episode 23 : Reverse Revenant''s Red Ray!" "I can''t help but feel like I lost, somehow." ""Squeaks!"" "Sorry, I''ll shut up. Kids these days..." As expected, James and the ratlings had decided to watch something on the phone. They argued over what they would watch, an argument which ended with a fight between David, who wanted to watch a slasher movie, and Blanche, who wanted to watch some kind of romance movie about an alien princess and her Terran dryad lover. James had to intervene and punished everyone by choosing a show none of them had been interested in, something about a blue superhero saving a city that was on the brink of destruction every week or so. What he hadn''t expected, however, was for the ratlings to become so engrossed in the show''s stupid and whacky plotlines that they had, somehow, collectively successfully threatened him into letting them watch more than a couple of episodes, as they had planned. Seeing a snarling Goliath had been surprisingly terrifying. Guess they''re still kids, after all... Currently, Captain Cyan, an overly muscled man in cyan spandex and a deep blue cape with a cyan "C" emblazoned on it, wearing a cyan domino mask, was on top of a building''s roof and facing his nemesis, Reverse Revenant, a red cartoonish ghost with a yellow pointy domino mask - for some reason. "It''s over, Revenant! I caught you now and you''ll be spending some time behind the bars!" "Ah ah! It''s never over, Cyan! I will always phase through the prison''s walls and be back outside in a blink of an eye!" "But this time, we have an Antighostium cell ready for you!" "Ah! Antighostium? The sole material that drains ghosts of all of their powers? How could Cyan City afford an entire cell?" "It''s simple, Revenant! The cell is the size of an oven!" "YOU! You would DARE entrap me in a box, knowing full well that I am claustrophobic? You monster!" "I''m no monster, Revenant. I''m a Hero. I fight monsters and people like you!" "You buffoon! You almost had a good one-liner! No matter, you cannot stop me this time, Cyan!" "Oh? What makes you so confident, Revenant?" "Because, this time, no one will try to stop me! Because, this time, what I''m going to reverse is YOU! Mhwahahahahaha!" "Who wrote those dialogues? This doesn''t feel like a super-hero show but a parody of a super-hero show in a regular show." "No! Ha! Impossible! My good... Is being turned into EVIL!" "Squeak!" "Ahaha! Yes! YES! Soon Cyan City will kneel to me, the REVERSE REVENANT!" "What? As something that clearly has superpowers of some kind, I object to this representation. Besides, when I''m being coerced into watching a show, I have every right to complain about its quality." "How foolish I was, to believe in peace. Yes, now let them all fear the name of THE RED RAGE!" "Squeak Squeak!" Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "Yes, my glorious creation, YES!" "Look, the suspension of disbelief can only go so far." "And I will start with YOU!" "Squeak!" "What? no! Impossible!" "Huh?" Goliath paused the episode - much to his siblings'' dismay - and began browsing about the show, showing David a small article about it. "Captain Cyan''s Culling Of Curious Catastrophes is a well know animated series loved by children all over the ACS, having gone through numerous iterations and reboots. What is less known, however, is that the series is based on true events : Captain Cyan was indeed a Hero defending Cyan City from numerous Villains, including his Nemesis, Reverse Revenant, fifty years ago." "Huh. Guess I was wrong. The dialogue is still awful." Goliath pointed at another paragraph. "All dialogues spoken by the characters are real, based on the recordings of Captain Cyan''s ingrained camera and mic as well as on reports of witnesses." James stared at that line of text for a few seconds, much to the ratlings'' confusion. "I suppose I''ll have to lower my expectations standards of this world''s common sense and logic even more. By the way, I don''t remember teaching you how to read." Goliath shrugged before putting the show back on, a fact his siblings enjoyed. "You were supposed to obey meee!" "But you know, we should really go back to training once this episode is done." His suggestion was met by a volley of cold, harsh, stares. "I obey no one, all shall obey ME!" "How do you think Captain Cyan got so strong? He may have had powers due to his alien heritage but it was rigorous training that turned him into a weapon of justice." The ratlings'' eyes narrowed. "This isn''t over, Red Rage! The Revenant always comes baaaaack!" "Isn''t that the whole point of Blue Boy and Green Girl? A pair of prospective heroes with great powers but no training. Doesn''t Reverse Revenant win whenever he fights them without Captain Cyan around? Do YOU want to be Blue Boys and Green Girls all your life?" They all gasped in shock, they wanted to be Captains Cyan, not sidekicks! David paused the episode and rushed to the loot piles to find his makeshift metal claws, closely followed by Lucille, Foudre, Blanche, and even Goliath. "It doesn''t have to be right now-" James didn''t even have the time to finish his sentence before the ratlings were neatly lined up before him, each one making a small salute. "Or we can begin straight away, sure. So, what do you want to do? Exercise? Spars? Hunting trips? Scavenging?" The ratlings all looked at each other before each squeaking in a different tone. Apparently, their answers hadn''t been what they expected of each other and squabbling ensued. Maybe I should have let them watch their show... James snatched up David in the air before he could finish a lunge to bite on Lucille''s tail and shielded Goliath from Blanche''s rambling with a couple of tentacles between them. "So, since you can''t agree on anything, I''ll pick." And it won''t be like the show this time... "David, you know how to hunt and how to fight, at least the basics. So, you''re going to exercise. Don''t give me that look, your body''s strength is as important as technique. When you''re done you''ll have to learn some finesse, mindlessly running is not a good strategy." David begrundgedly agreed. "Lucille, you have good technique and good hunting habits, so, exercise too. Maybe give David a few pointers?" Lucille nodded. "Blanche, your technique is good and you have rather good endurance and strength but your actual hunting skills are abysmal. Foudre is similar, so us three will go together to kill two birds with one stone." The two had nothing to say against this. "Goliath, your body is already good and your paranoia is surprisingly effective in hunts, your biggest issue is actually fighting. You need to get over that fear. It''s fine if you don''t want to hunt but you need to be able to defend yourself. Help Lucille and David exercising and then they''ll help you with some LIGHT sparring, alright David?" The youngest ratling scoffed while the oldest one nervously nodded. "Great. Well then, let''s go." James began to leave, followed by Foudre and Blanche. "Squeak?" "Huh?" James turned around to discover a confused Goliath raising his paw. "Yes Goliath, what is your question?" "Squeak squeak?" The ratling showed him the nest with both of his paws. James didn''t understand. Why is Goliath showing me the nest? Did he clean it and wanted me to congratulate him? I mean, I can. At least he didn''t have to deal with dust under the furniture since there is none... Oh. "We don''t have any exercising equipment, do we?" "Squeak!" "Well... Hum... David, Lucille, you''ll start with sparring. Goliath, in the meantime, could you improvise some things? Some weights, an obstacle course, maybe a running track? I trust you to know what to make to help your siblings train their bodies. Will it be fine?" "Squeak!" Goliath was determined to finish the impromptu gym before James would be back. He even did a cute little salute. James really had to take a few pics of the ratlings at some point. "Very well then. NOW, let''s go." And away they went, for a brand new adventure.
James, Foudre, and Blanche roamed the sewer tunnels in search of prey. Or, well, Foudre and Blanche were searching, James - thanks to his domain and prior scouting - knew exactly where potential prey was hidden. He was currently in his Skitter form since his humanoid form''s main means of movement relied on his foot being made out of shadows, something that was currently impossible due to his headache. "So? Found anything yet?" The two female rats shook their heads. This is how they had spent the last half hour : James let the two lead the march, only interfering when they were about to enter a more dangerous area and asking them if they had found a potential trail from time to time. It appeared that either their more civilized lifestyle had ruined their instincts, which was a real possibility, or that they relied way too much on James'' and Lucille''s tracking skills. It didn''t matter in the end, the goal of this little excursion was to bring those instincts back and not to deal with the reason why they had disappeared. James wasn''t that surprised that Blanche wasn''t good at tracking, the little diva hated all things dirty and, even now, refused to truly smell anything down in the sewers - something that James empathized with, truly. She didn''t want to dirty herself by examining footprints, either. He really had to find a way to help make her a bit more manual. Foudre''s failure, on the other hand, had been unexpected. James couldn''t figure out why she couldn''t find prey, whether through tracking their scent or listening to the sounds they produced. It''s only when she thought to have found something that he realized the cause of the problem : Foudre had taken a habit to only react, never act first. It was the basis of her fighting style and, right now, her tracking method : she wasn''t hunting anything, she was running around and waiting to be ambushed. "Ok, let''s stop right now. You two won''t find anything like that." "Squeak?" "Blanche, I know the sewers are not a pleasant place to be in but, if you want to track something, as a rat, you have to use your sense of smell. Nature didn''t give you such a precise nose to waste it. And don''t worry about getting your fur dirty, I''m sure we can improvise a shower at home." "Squeak..." "And Foudre, stop waiting for something to attack you. Sometimes you have to attack first, or in this case search for them. Okay?" "Squeak." "Good. Now try again. Maybe you could work together, to make it easier?" The two ratlings looked at each other before nodding. Foudre and Blanche took a deep breath, Blanche nearly choking on the sewers'' putrid air, before turning toward a side tunnel James knew was home to a small group of cockroaches. The two entered the tunnel, James following closely behind them, and got ready to hunt. Chapter 13 : Of divas and discoveries James looked at the two young female rats before him as they navigated through the sewer tunnels. Once they had caught the scent of cockroaches - much to Blanche''s regret, she was still coughing from her large intake of putrid air - Foudre and Blanche knew which way to go. Good, at least once they have a trail they know how to follow it. The tunnel they were currently in was on the smaller side, though James had long realized that the size of the tunnels in these sewers made no sense. It feels like they made the big tunnels with the main canals in the first place, which is logical, but then decided to fill everything else with bricks BEFORE realizing they actually needed more tunnels for maintenance and had to dig those. And THEN someone else began making tunnels that made no sense for no reason. Which, now that I know Villains are a thing, is probably what happened and worries me a little. What James didn''t account for either was also the numerous tunnels dug by the local fauna and flora, though those were much rarer and more primitive than the usual small rectangular ones or the large ones with a curved roof. The tunnel they were currently exploring was one of the small, dusty rectangular ones. Foudre suddenly stopped and held her paw, signaling Blanche and James to stop too. Soon, a small cockroach emerged from a hole in the wall, its antennae moving left and right to feel the air, trying to find food or a potential threat. It turned slightly in the group''s direction before beginning to crawl on the wall, scuttling left and right. It noticed a patch of moss on the wall, and approached it slowly before stopping and nibbling on it. And then Blanche''s spear pierced its thorax. James was delightfully impressed by her performance. Throwing a large nail like a javelin, for someone as young as her and without opposable thumbs, was remarkable. He definitely wasn''t as good at it when he did in sports class. Still, as a young rat, Blanche didn''t have the strength to lodge her weapon deep in the stone wall, meaning that it quickly fell off the patch of moss with a live - though not for long - cockroach still skewered on it, making a small "clunk" sound once it hit the floor. "Good aim and nice reflexes, perfect moment to strike. Bravo, Blanche, bravo." The albino ratling quickly had a smug look on her face. "And Foudre, good work. You noticed the potential prey or danger, quietly communicated with the rest of the team, and took the right decision." The young rat with a lightning-bolt-shaped tail was just as proud as her sister. "Now, let''s switch places. Blanche will track and Foudre will strike." The two sisters'' pride quickly deflated. "Sque-" "No. The point of this exercise is for you two to be able to do the basics of every task your group may have to face. Foudre, I''m not asking you to make a kill as effective as Blanche''s, and Blanche, I''m not telling you to rub yourself with sewage to hide your scent." The white rat shuddered at that, a perfectly understandable reaction for James. "I''m asking you two to at least know how to find and follow a trail, as well as to initiate an encounter and, ideally, to subdue a target as quickly as possible. The latter of the two doesn''t need to be perfect, it''s what the sparring and the soon-to-be gym are for. So, ready to switch places?" The two sighed before nodding, Blanche slowly stepping forward and scrunching up her snout as she began to truly focus on the many odors that spread around. James could swear she somehow got paler and greener, both at the same time somehow, before barely stopping herself from puking and pointing toward the end of the current tunnel. James and Foudre gave her a moment to recompose herself before following her lead, stopping from time to time so she could catch the scent trail she was following once more, taking a few seconds to get over the omnipresent pestilence and advancing again. Sheesh, at this point I think I should ask Goliath to make her a gas mask. I''m sure he''d figure it out, somehow. Worst case scenario I have to infuse it with shadows, not that I don''t already do that whenever I can. Urgh, I really overly rely on the whole shadow thing, don''t I? He couldn''t help but sigh mentally. To think a week ago I was still human... At least I think it''s been a week? Maybe more? Losing the need to sleep and staying underground kinda ruined my perception of time. Not that it was that great, to begin with. Like that time I showed up to work on a Sunday, just because I thought it was already Thursday... Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. He internally chuckled. Thinking back on it, maybe THAT was what the rest of the employees at the pizzeria saw in him? He may have been an airhead but he still was willing to work, when given the chance. Maybe his antics also provided some well-deserved entertainment. I think I know why they kept me around now. Yes, just like I still take care of the ratlings despite it not benefiting me most of the time, I do it because they deserve it. Maybe because it helps with the lack of human interaction, too. No matter how selfish it may be, in the end, everyone is happier that way. James watched as Blanche finally puked, her last cockroach meal exciting her stomach through her esophagus as a green goop. Foudre quickly ran to her sister''s side and began patting her on the back. Even if we don''t always realize it. James took out a plastic bottle filled with clear water out from his body, pouring some water in the bottlecap before placing it next to Blanche who quickly lifted it with both of her paws and gulping down its contents in a blink of an eye, forgoing any of her usual grace and etiquette. Not that etiquette mattered when your throat felt like it had melted lead poured in it. "Is it close, Blanche? If not, I''ll take it up from there. You already put in a lot of effort, it''ll be enough." The white ratling looked at James before giving him back the bottlecap. She rolled her neck before rushing down the tunnel. Apparently, pain and filth didn''t matter once Blanche''s pride was hurt. Good to know. It was always good to know a trick or two to motivate people, especially when they tended to be divas. Foudre ran after her, James skittering forth behind them. They quickly reached an opening that led in a room James had seen before but not thoroughly studied, some kind of sewage pool with a small space to walk around it, connected to the rest of the canal network on one end and to a grate opening leading directly into a dark abyss on the other, dirty water constantly gently falling down into the dark. Of course, waste and rubbish stopped at the grate, leading to what could have been a dam of disgusting materials had it not been for the presence of an entire colony of cockroaches, tearing apart anything that got stuck on the rusty metal bars of the grate, only a couple of them getting snatched up by a few toads lurking beneath the water since said toads tended to get pierced by the leg of a gargantuan cockroach - which was definitely NOT here the last time James had come. If the one James had killed when moody was the size of a large dog, this one had to be the size of a cow - if not bigger. Unlike its smaller brethren it wasn''t a shade of brown or even light orange, instead opting for a perfectly black chitinous exterior with blue markings on its legs and mouth - old dried toad blood, if James had to hazard a guess. It lifted a leg with a frog skewered on it and began to gluttonously devour the impromptu kebab, still taking care to avoid crunching on a few small cockroaches that found their way on the thing. Not a cannibal. At least this thing has some redeemable quality. The titanous cockroach, or Titaroach, if you will, began to turn around, its whip-like antennae slashing the air as if they had been made of dozen of razor blades, something James feared wasn''t that far off. He got a good look at the thing''s eyes, two deep blue ovals with a few turquoise sparkles floating in them, something James was pretty sure was NOT normal in cockroaches, not even specimens that could eat researchers. The Titaroach stared at James and the ratling for a few tense seconds before returning to its meal, skewering another toad and beginning to tear it apart. James immediately whispered to the girls. "Blanche, Foudre, exercise over. We''re going home. Now, step back, slowly." They all began to slowly walk away, never letting their eyes off the Titaroach as it began to reach for yet another toad, the more James saw them the more he felt like these amphibians had to be somewhat suicidal. Once it finished its current brochette, the Titaroach turned to look at James and the ratlings one last time before fluttering its oversized wings at a toad the size of a dog that suddenly emerged from the water, toad which ignored the warning before hopping closer and getting cleanly decapitated by a swift leg movement from the Titaroach, which, for a toad, simply meant being cut in half. James and the two ratlings stayed silent on the way back, paying attention to look behind them every once in a while, just in case. James also made sure that they didn''t go home directly but instead made a few loops around the sewers, just in case that thing was planning on tracking them once it got tired of frog legs - and heads, and arms, and tongues, and intestines... It''s only once the entrance to the nest was in sight that James spoke. "Blanche, good work on locating a large source of food. However, I beg of you, try to avoid finding an apex predator next time." The albino sheepishly squeaked. "Oh, don''t worry, I''m not mad. I also scouted that place once and didn''t see that thing around, so either it''s a newcomer or it has some kind of stealth ability - both of which are terrifying for different reasons." "Squeak!" "And Foudre, sorry you didn''t get to fight something. Actually killing the prey wasn''t the focus of the exercise but I''d understand if you''re disappointed." "Squeak." "Oh, and in case you ever stumble something like that without me around, most predators only register something as prey if they were already hunting them or if they notice that it reacts as one. So, if you accidentally meet a big bad monster and it doesn''t immediately pounce on you, slowly leaving while maintaining eye contact is a good plan." ""Squeak!"" "How did that thing get so big anyway? The last one was only the size of a dog, so what... Is it that orb? The one the size of a ping pong ball you found in that smaller one? Does that giant one have a bigger one? I''ll look it up online." Which is exactly what he did. "Orb in monster cockroach" He didn''t expect to find anything, but what a shock, the Internet was full of surprises. "The inner mechanisms of Cores and how they affect entities : a study on the effects of Cores on cockroaches and other arthropods." "Studies find Zalcien''s cockroaches are getting more and more Cored, should we worry?" "My pet cockroach has a Mind core and won''t shut up." "Should I feed Cored insects to my reptiles?" "What are the chances of a cockroach Awakening?" "Help! I just Awakened my Core and am turning into a giant cockroach!" James'' research had only brought in more questions if anything. One, in particular, occupied his mind. What on Earth was a Core? Chapter 14 : Cores and you What on Earth is a Core? Of course, there was an easy way to solve James'' current predicament : further Internet researches! "A Core is a usually small object, often spherical, that appears to be made out of jade or to be some kind of pearl. Neither of these guesses is correct, however. Cores are made out of a unique material, Corite, which can be of any color, shape, or size." Oh, so a Core can be whatever it wants to be. Nice, I know exactly what to look out for now. Great. "Cores are generally situated in one of three places : the torso, generally between the lungs or behind the heart; the head, either under or in the brain or the middle of the forehead, creating the famous ''third eye''; or around the navel, those tend to be rarer and are more likely to be bigger or external. Cores can appear anywhere on the body however, a well-known example of this is the Hero Gauntlet, whose Core was on the back on his right hand." Should... Should they make this kind of information public? I don''t know, it seems kinda like a bad idea to just let everyone know a Hero''s weakness. "There are two types of Core positions : external and internal. External Cores are easier to use but, since they are at least partially outside of the body, are much more likely to be broken." Ah yes, the weak points. "Cores, like bones, can heal back from fractures as long as their host is alive. Some degrees of damage, however, can permanently destroy them, again like bones. Gauntlet''s early retirement following the loss of his right hand is a perfect example." Oh. So that''s why the information is public. Though I wonder, was it released before or after the loss of his hand? "The purpose of a Core in a body is simple: it hosts that individual''s Aspects." Ah yes, those. "But this does not mean every Aspected individual has a Core." Hu uh. "Cores are only present in entities who break the norms of normality and reality within their respective species. A good demonstration of this would be to take Elfs and Goblins. An Elf with a sight akin to a hawk''s is rare, true, but it is still a possibility written within their genes and therefore would not require a Core. A Goblin with an hawk''s vision, on the other hand, would definitely have a Core - just like an Elf with a sense of smell rivaling a Goblin''s." So, Elfs and Goblins exist and everyone is fine with that? Ok. Good. "Another possible example would be fairies, it is normal for a fairy to be Soul Aspected and therefore they do not need a Core to practice magic, it is abnormal however for a fairy to be Destruction Aspected and this particular individual would definitely have a Core." Magic. Great. And Destruction Aspected? Sounds lovely. "Of course, not everyone is born with a Core. Exact statistics are impossible to gather due to some Cores'' tendency to evade detection, Dormant Cores, and numerous individuals preferring to keep their Core secret, but it is estimated that only roughly one out of a hundred persons have a Core." That''s... More than I expected, actually. "This result may sound surprising until you realize that more than half of Cores remain Dormant until their host''s death and that many abilities granted by Cores are not necessarily remarkable, for example, one of the researchers within our very own team is Cored , but her ability is far from impressive: her hair color changes depending on the amount of blood in her body." That''s... Oddly specific. "Cored individuals have a stronger body than Coreless ones by default, which is the reason why Cored and Coreless athletes have different competitions. Cored people are either born with a Core, whether it is Dormant or not, or form one under extremely stressful circumstances - those are referred to as Chaotic Cores, due to their origins. Chaotic Cores tend to offer stronger abilities but are much more taxing on the body and the mind, they are also rather unstable and can and WILL explode or implode if overused. Chaotic Cored should report to the Hero Union to be watched over by medical professionals." Well, that''s horrifying. I''m guessing these are supposed to be a last resort on the body''s part, a last-minute attempt to survive immediate danger even if it means you won''t live as long as you should have. "Dormant Cores, once Awakened, tend to also be stronger than regular Cores - though not to the level of Chaotic ones, yet, unlike them, Awakened Cores are stable and easy to use. Awakening varies greatly from individual to individual, for some it takes a life or death situation and for others getting engaged or being determined enough is sufficient." So, normal Cores are a party trick, Dormant Cores are useless but can become Awakened Cores which give actual powers and Chaotic Cores give you powers but threaten to kill you at any time? If I had to guess, that Titaroach has a Chaotic one, based on how excessive his mutations are compared to the regular cockroaches. "Of course, Cores are merely a vessel for the true source of our abilities : Aspects." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Fine, let''s jump down the other rabbit hole. "There are three Natures of Aspects : The Self, The Other, The World." Well, that''s ominous. "The Self are the three Aspects that directly influence an individual, Body, Mind, and Soul." So far so good. "The Other are the three Aspects that an individual uses to affect their surroundings, Might, Will and Faith." Ok, I''m seeing a pattern here. Physical strength, mental strength, and moral strength. "The World are the three Aspects that an individual uses to radically affect reality itself, they are the rarest and most supervised Aspects, Destruction, Creation, and Transformation." Uh... I mean, it''s more metaphorical but it still works? The body destroys, the mind imagines and creates, and the soul changes as we live? Ok, I know when to give up, it doesn''t work. "Body grants abilities that are partially natural, merely excessively potent. All Mutants are Body Aspected, though how it impacts them varies on a case by case basis. Regeneration, infinite spikes, super strength, and light shapeshifting are well-known examples of Body abilities." Ok, so nature on steroids and breaking a couple of laws of physics. The Titaroach probably has that. "Mind grants abilities linked to intellect. While the specifics vary, it is overall known as superintelligence - whether it is in problem-solving, rapid calculations, imagination, or esoteric inventions. Most laboratories only employ Mind Aspected individuals, being much more productive than their normal colleagues." I don''t think the cockroach has this one? But this reminds me of something... James turned away from the screen and called the ratlings. "Kids, are you Mind Aspected? Do you all have Cores?" They all turned around, Goliath freezing mid-hammering a nail into a plank with his bare paw for the gym before they all looked at each other and shrugged. "Hum... I see..." Yeah, definitely Mind Aspected. At least Goliath is, how else would a rat know anything about building stuff? "Soul is unique in that it only grants one ability, but what can be done with that ability has infinite potential : mana manipulation, or more commonly known as magic. At its core, mana manipulation is simply about manipulating surrounding mana, using different elements in different ways and quantities to create different effects. Magic is further classified in Schools, each School focusing on one or multiple elements and a technique in particular. There are countless other different classifications relating to magic but those are not the subject of this article." So, that''s how magic works. I can''t help but notice it''s not that far off from how I manipulate shadows, does that mean I''ve been using magic this entire time? Infusing items with shadow mana to enchant them? Which brand of magic is shadow manipulation, by the way? Umbromancy? Tenebromancy? Bah, I''ll look it up later. "Might is similar to Body, granting abilities directly linked to the physical form, but instead of being somewhat natural Might abilities break all of the laws of logic. Firing lasers from one''s eyes, taking on an elemental form without the use of mana, major shapeshifting, and wingless flight are a few well-known might abilities." So, that''s the outlandish comics stuff. "Will is the ability to directly change reality. Whereas Might still employs the body as a medium, Will bypasses it completely. The world becomes a canvas, imagination is the paint and the mind is the pencil. Causality alteration, item summoning, some forms of teleportation and elemental manipulation - which means manipulating an already existing element, whereas magic creates it via mana - are a few examples of Will abilities." Oh, I stand corrected, THIS is the outlandish comics stuff. I can''t help but notice my shadow manipulation seems closer to Will than Soul. Maybe it''s both? Can it be both? "Faith is more complex to explain. Put simply, it is the sum of all abilities linked to relationships. Faith in the Divine, the power of friendship, ruling with fear, living through hate - as long as there is something that grants powers due to your feelings on that thing or that thing''s feelings about you, it is Faith. Mutual relationships - a couple''s love, a god and their follower, two mortal enemies - grant stronger powers than one-way ones. Faith abilities often copy ones obtainable via other Aspects, offering a broader set of abilities than other Aspects and with the potential for much more growth, at the cost of being focused on one ''theme'' and being capable of weakening greatly following any major relationship change." They... They did it. They found a way to explain the power of friendship. Incredible. Marvelous. "Destruction is rather self-explanatory: it is the power to destroy. Destruction allows an entity to erase something, wiping them out completely, ignoring the law of the conservation of mass. The extent of the Destruction - how much power is needed, the minimum amount of damage necessary to function, whether or not a soul is affected too - depends on the entity''s mastery of the ability as well as their other Aspects." Oh. OH. Well, that''s an existential dread and a half. Yeah, them watching over anyone who has THAT as a superpower makes sense. And hey, someone CAN have multiple Aspects. Nice. Not terrifying at all. "Creation is the opposite : it is the power to create. Unlike some Will abilities, however, Creation-made items or constructs are permanent, ignore the law of conservation of mass, can be anything the host knows, and are only limited by the entity''s knowledge of the item and their power. A famous Creation Aspected individual was Jonathan who, at three years old, created the starship from his children show - the starship being unable to fly, Jonathan being ignorant of the inner working of a spaceship, and much smaller than its original version, going from a whale-sized vehicle in the show to only rivaling a car once Created." Ah. Yes, toddlers having powers in this kind of world makes sense - which horrifies me down to the soul. I just hope no one who has tons of fun lighting ants on fire gets any fire or Destruction based stuff. "And finally, the most controversial Aspect, Transformation. Also know as Purification and Corruption, it allows an individual to infuse a part of their being on an existential level into anything. The intelligence, complexity, and willingness of the subject influence the difficulty of the process. If all can agree that superstrength can be used for both good and evil, they have a harder time accepting that the ability to rewrite reality in your image can be beneficial for anyone - besides its user, of course. The destruction of the Vallen Continent following the birth of the Vallenian Scurge, a race of monsters born from a single Transformation Aspected termite queen, did not ease the global worry concerning this Aspect." Oh. "We have reached the end of this short article. We at Xenocorp hope you found this small guide useful to refresh your memory on the matter of Cores and Aspects or teach you about it if, for some reason, you missed this part of your education - we at Xenocorp do not judge." James wasn''t really focused on the article at this point, more focused on the information about Transformation. Something that closely resembled his powers. His mind was already made up and he didn''t care about the article anymore, completely oblivious to the closing words of the article. "An article by Alan Leone." I am DEFINITELY doomed. Chapter 15 : Online forums to the rescue Doomed doomed doomed doomed... James had been pacing around the nest for the past few minutes under the worried gaze of the ratlings, shaken down to his core - he could tell there was a pun to be made here but he wasn''t in the mood - by what he had learned about Aspects and what people thought of them. More precisely, the Transformation Aspect. "Maybe it''s not Transformation and just looks like it! Yes! Let''s just compare a few tell-tale signs based on the list that''s linked in the article. Ok, let''s go..." "Transformation can be used on anything, from inanimate objects to living things with corpses in-between. The difficulty of the transformation - or corruption, infection, purification, or infusion, depending on who you ask - depends on the complexity of the target, the materials it is made of, its mass, and, in the case of a living entity, its willingness." Ok, there''s no denying it, that''s exactly what I''ve been doing with shadows. At least I know it works on living things and corpses too now, though they don''t specify any side effects. "Infusing a non-elemental object is easier than transforming an elemental one, and trying to infuse an elemental object with its opposing element is much harder - the Vallenian Scurge, being attuned to the Earth Element, was heavily slowed down once it assaulted the floating city of Monttaie, constructed entirely out of materials infused with the Wind Element and populated by numerous Aeromancers." Oh. Good to know. If infusing a phone was enough to send me in the cords for a couple of days and block my shadow stuff for a while, I don''t want to know what a more complex object made with better materials infused with light - I guess? At least based on usual elemental shenanigans it''s what shadow''s opposite should be - would do. Or well, I do, but I don''t want to experience it. Curiosity about how far his abilities could reach eased his mind, and so James jumped on the opportunity to turn to a more enjoyable train of thought. I should try to figure out which Aspects I have, shouldn''t I? Well, Transformation is obvious, but what about the rest? James went over the list once again, taking in every single detail - though he didn''t know how useful it would be to know this article was made by some Alan Leone. What were the chances he would ever meet the man? Though, thinking about it, considering this world''s twisted sense of irony, he was probably setting up a flag. Oh well, having a professional opinion wouldn''t hurt. I can''t test out any new stuff since my shadow abilities are still locked - or blocked, or sealed, or jammed or whatever - but I should still be able to establish a basic diagnosis. Let''s get to the obvious one right off the bat, I''m a shapeshifter. But how does that work? Apparently, there''s light and heavy shapeshifting, what''s the difference? Again, who better to ask a question you quickly wanted the answer to than the Internet? But, this time, James found something a little different. Not an article, not some wiki page, but a forum. "HardCored: Confused Cored helping each other." Well, that seemed promising. The only downside was that he required an account to view the different discussions, so he simply just made one. Well, he had to make a mail address before that, he planned on something random on a random host platform, but, when he began to fill the different spaces, an address he had never made automatically filled in. James looked at the ratlings who all shrugged before shrugging himself. It probably came with the phone infusion if he had to guess. Ok, one last look at the rules... Blah blah, no illegal content... Privacy Policy... Hu, you can''t publish personal information, not even your own. Probably to preserve people from getting taken by Villains or something? Oh, and what''s that? "This forum is not for boasting, it''s about asking people for help on how to manage your abilities and what to do in which situations. Any boasting will be viewed as a faker and will be banned." I guess when people CAN throw trucks around like they were paper planes, some people will try to gather attention by pretending to be all-powerful. In a couple of tentacle taps, James'' account was set up. It was simple, default avatar, no bio, only the bare minimum to use the site really. He wasn''t in the mood to set up anything more complex and, honestly, it wasn''t like he planned on using the forum much afterward. Once he had asked a few questions and received a few answers, he wouldn''t have any reason to use it anymore. He did take the time to make a good username, not something overly thought-out but enough not to seem suspicious. Someone who was simply called "Bob" or "Joe" on the Internet probably was hiding something. James quickly checked over the numerous threads that existed and quickly gave up on browsing them. He didn''t want to bother looking through a dozen different versions of "help, I set my house on fire" just to get a hint at the information he actually wanted. And, thankfully, the forum had some kind of live chatroom he could use.
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: And that''s why Abrakaboom is objectively the best Villain in the big three. TechnoGogo: Magic, I swear to the Nine, if I read one more word about Abrakaboom I WILL find you and demonstrate how good nitroglycerin is. MagicIsTragic: Ah! You can try, then I''ll show you what a good fireball can do. KillLaKrill: Girls, girls, you''re both pyromaniacs. Can we talk about something else now? Like, literally anything else? DaffyDaisy: Like our Lord and Savior, the Biflora? MagicIsTragic: No. TechnoGogo: No. KillLaKrill: No. The Silence: No. (Mod)Seagullag: Daisy, we already warned you about this. No preaching on the forum. I''m muting you for a week. DaffyDaisy has been muted by Moderator Seagullag. Reason: Broke the preaching rule. MagicIsTragic: My Artifix, even Silence talked! The Silence: Even the vast barren plains of nothingness and apathy that plague my soul are tired of dealing with the Hivines'' foolish, cultic ways. TechnoGogo: Calm down drama queen, I''m tired of them too but you don''t see me insulting their religion. MagicIsTragic: But he''s right, the Biflora IS a Villain, the Hivines are just a cult of brainwashed minions. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. KillLaKrill: Nothing''s proven yet, guys. (Mod)Seagullag: Calm down everyone. Like Krill said, there''s no official statement on the Biflora being a Villain. And freedom of religion is one of the rules of the forum. JamesIsInTheDark: Excuse me everyone, am I interrupting something? I just discovered I had a Core and wanted to ask a few questions. KillLaKrill: Oh! A newbie! Welcome little one, ask anything you want. TechnoGogo: Awakened or just a really specific power that never kicked in until now? MagicIsTragic: Ah! Perfect! Fresh meat! Tell me, who is the best Villain in Zalcien? The Silence: Does it devour your soul from the inside, cursing you to an eternity of agony? (Mod)Seagullag: Don''t pay attention to Silence, he got into an emo phase ever since he discovered he could drain colors from things. So, what''s your deal? JamesIsInTheDark: Awakened, I think? Or Chaotic? I''m not sure. I haven''t been in Zalcien long enough to know about its Villains, sadly. And, uh, I don''t really know what to do? I don''t know WHAT I can do either. TechnoGogo: Oof, Chaotic can be a mess. You should go get examined at the Hero Union''s Headquarters. MagicIsTragic: Wait, you''re not from here? Where are you from then? The Silence: Do not listen to Techno''s advice, while I have no doubt she has the best intentions in mind the Union can get really hands-on when it comes to Chaotic Cores, I don''t even want to imagine what they would do on an outsider. MagicIsTragic: Whoa, that''s the least dark thing you said in a while, Silence. (Mod)Seagullag: Not from Zalcien? Yeah, that might make things harder. Still, you should go see a doctor, Chaotic could be especially nasty if left unchecked. The last guy who had it, ChaosControl, didn''t follow his medication and spontaneously exploded into a living cloud of pixels. He''s ok, just really annoyed he lost his physical body. JamesIsInTheDark: Yeah, that''s a bit late. My body is already a mess. TechnoGogo: Ok, let''s take a scientific approach, what are your Aspects? JamesIsInTheDark: I... Don''t know? MagicIsTragic: Oof. KillLaKrill: Any elemental affinity? JamesIsInTheDark: Yes, shadows, without a doubt. The Silence: Ah, the darkness beckons and has claimed one more soul. TechnoGogo: That''s his way of saying that''s his element too. Could you try to describe your abilities? So that we may guess what your Aspects could be? MagicIsTragic: Could we go back on the part where they said they''re not from Zalcien? Like, that''s important info. What if they were a Draskian spy. One Sunburn is enough in my books. (Mod)Seagullag: Magic, don''t be racist. I''m Draskian too. MagicIsTragic: Whoops, sorry. TechnoGogo: Good ol'' Magic, that. KillLaKrill: And what''s your opinion on mermen, Magic? Are we spies sent from the depths of the ocean to seduce and kidnap poor girls like you? TechnoGogo: Whoa, calm down Krill. Magic is just messing around, you know her. The Silence: Yes, Techno speaks the truth. Magic is a fool, true, but not a mean-spirited one. (Mod)Seagullag: Everyone, calm down.
James looked down at the screen before sighing. What had he expected, genuinely helpful people on the Internet? Things seemed to be good at first but they clearly weren''t focused enough to help him. At least, until he saw a notification at the corner of the screen, something about someone sending him a private message. He shrugged, he had nothing to lose trying.
HardCored - Private chat - Saray Saray: Hey, sorry about the others. They''re nice people but they get easily distracted. You wanted some help with figuring out your Aspects and what to do, right? JamesIsInTheDark: Yeah, thanks. I don''t mind, I should have known the Internet wouldn''t be as useful as I had planned. Saray: Don''t say that. Really, they normally are much more helpful but... Well, things are getting tense. JamesIsInTheDark: How so? Saray: Daisy got indoctrinated by the Hivines about a month ago and that sparked a big debate between those who think they''re a dangerous cult and those who think they''re just another new religion. But hey, that''s a topic for another day. Let''s focus on you now, alright? JamesIsInTheDark: That''s fine with me. Saray: So, first, you said your body was already a mess, what happened exactly? JamesIsInTheDark: Well, I went from being a regular human guy to being a living, solid, humanoid shadow.
Was James willing to tell someone else the basics of his abilities to help narrow down which Aspects he had? Yes. Was he ready to tell them everything? Of course not. His self-diagnosis on Transformation would definitely stay secret, for example, and preferred to keep his shapeshifting secret too, just in case someone went after him.
Saray: Ah, I can''t imagine what that must be like. Are you fine? JamesIsInTheDark: Yeah, it was weird at first but I got used to it. Saray: If you say so. Well, that sounds like Might, some kind of permanent elemental form? But normally permanent stuff is more Body''s thing. Maybe a hybrid of both? It''s rare but it happens. Anything else? JamesIsInTheDark: I can manipulate shadows, nothing big or grandiose but enough to entertain kids. Saray: Do you manipulate existing shadows or create new ones? JamesIsInTheDark: Yes? But only small stuff, TV screen size at best. Saray: Oh my. Well, manipulation sounds like Will, creation could also be Might technically but I''m more inclined to think it''s Soul, which means it''s magic. Do you feel exhausted when you use it? JamesIsInTheDark: Not usually, no, but I was stupid and tried to do something bigger and now I can''t use it all. Saray: Ah, power burn, that one hurts. Don''t worry, it''s temporary and, if it helps, that means you''re not a Chaotic. Chaotics can''t block their powers, it''s why they''re so dangerous, their body doesn''t set any limit and just let them self-destruct when they overuse their ability. JamesIsInTheDark: Awesome? Saray: Yeah, I know how you feel. but yes, sounds like magic, just a really small mana pool. So, congrats! You have two to four Aspects, depending on how convinced you are it''s magic and if Body is really the source of your permanent transformation. Body, Might, Will and Soul. Not bad. JamesIsInTheDark: I''ll trust you. Thanks for the diagnosis! Saray: No problem. I''d love to talk a bit more but I must go to work very soon and I can''t afford to be late. Maybe another time? You could tell me more about the place you come from then? Have a good day! JamesIsInTheDark: Thanks! Have a good day too! And sure, why not.
So, James had Body, Might, Will, Soul, and Transformation. Well, at least he had a plethora of choices to deal with the Titaroach once he got his powers back, as well as after some training. That thing clearly was stronger than him right now, so he too would have to go through some sparring with the rats to learn how to deal with an actual opponent. And maybe he would check on his notifications on the forum from time to time as well. Although they hadn''t been that useful they seemed like a merry bunch, and hey, that Saray had been really nice. Maybe he would take them up on that offer. He just had to find a story to tell about his homeland that explained why he didn''t know anything about everything in this world. Chapter 16 : Combat training, finally "Alright, is everyone ready?" ""Squeak!"" James looked over the ratlings before nodding approvedly. In the time it took for him to do light research on Cores and Aspects, Goliath had finished improvising a little gym with a small obstacle course included. Lucille had given Blanche tips on how to properly track something and David had somehow managed to coerce Foudre letting him help her improve her aggressivity. This had all been fine and dandy but, now that he had some ideas on what he could do, James wanted to be a little bit more active, too. So, he had simply asked the ratlings for a light spar. He wasn''t crazy enough to take them on all at once without seeing what they were capable of, of course, instead he had divided the ratlings and himself into three pairs of fighters, with opponents swapping each round. To avoid any possible injuries, he also instructed the ratlings on how to use torn pieces of paper - shreds of fake money he had already infused and could probably fix later - to cover their claws and teeth, making them blunt. Weapons were also prohibited, to David''s joy and Blanche''s annoyance. "Well then, David you are with Blanche, Lucille you are with Foudre, and Goliath you are with me. Don''t be stupid, if you''re hurt stop fighting and go rest. I''ll try to keep an eye on everyone to tell you when to stop but I may get distracted by my opponent, so I trust you to manage yourselves." The five nodded. "Good. What are you waiting for? Let''s go." The three pairs when to opposite ends of the nest, leaving each other enough room to maneuver and move around properly. James, still in his humanoid form, looked down at Goliath. "Do you want me to take on a specific form or am I free to be whatever I want?" Goliath thought about it for a few seconds before making a flapping motion with his arms. "A bird?" Goliath shook his head before imitating a skittering motion. "Ah, a cockroach?" The ratling nodded. "Well, if it''s what you want." James'' form shrunk, becoming shorter than his Skittler form but still much bigger than a regular cockroach, in fact, he was quite close to Goliath''s size, maybe a bit shorter. He began to test out his body, flipping his antennae, skittering left and right, and buzzing his wings, before facing Goliath who took on something akin to a sumo''s pose. In another corner of the room, David, on all fours, stared intensely at Blanche, ready to burst forward and shower her with a barrage of claw strikes, whereas she stared in disdain at her younger brother, standing on her hind legs. Lucille and Foudre were much calmer, each one on all fours, and were ready to move, watching the other''s posture attentively, ready to evade or attack at a moment''s notice. "Begin!" At James'' call, the three duels began at once. David immediately ran and pounced on Blanche who took a step to the side and hit his flank mid-air with the palm of her paw, sending him tumbling to the side. James flew forward, charging toward Goliath who managed to take hold of him, struggling to keep his grip on the black chitin as James slowly pushed him, still flying at full speed and beginning to whip him with his antennae. Lucille and Foudre slowly circled around each other, each waiting for an opening. David got back up and snarled before rushing to attack Blanche again, the albino rat rolled her eyes and readied herself to repeat her palm strike. However, this time, when David jumped, he began to rotate, evading Blanche''s counter before slapping her with his tail, throwing her on the ground, and dirtying her pristine white fur with a smug smile on his snout. Goliath turned his grip on James'' cockroachy body into a bear hug and began to crush the shadowy bug as hard as he could, cracks and crunches in the black chitinous armor making themselves heard. It''s at this point that James lengthened his antennae and used them to take hold of Goliath''s hindlegs and flip him upside down, the surprise of the fall making him accidentally release James. Lucille and Foudre kept on watching their respective opponent''s every move, ready to act at the slightest muscle twitch. Blanche slowly stood up and took a glance at her stained fur before staring at David. He could feel shivers going down his spine, his fur raising on its own when faced with the scorn within her crimson eyes. In a breath she was already next to him and punched him in the ribs, taking his breath out and launching him half a meter back - a much more impressive distance when you remembered those were rats fighting, not humans. James used his elongated antennae to bind Goliath''s body and placed his front pair of legs - now doted with blunted spikes that turned each limb into a rudimentary blade - under the ratling''s throat, crossed and ready to strike. Goliath nervously stared at the bladed appendages before sighing and closing his eyes, James backing off and letting him get back up. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Lucille and Foudre just stood there, menacingly. David got back up and coughed a couple of times before grinning and rushing onto Blanche again, but this time the albino didn''t bother taking a proper posture to get ready to counter, instead, she jumped and landed on David, the two fighters quickly forming a ball of rat fury and bloodlust that began to roll around the nest. Lucille and Foudre narrowed their eyes, neither quite ready to be the first to strike and- That''s when a furious ball of white and grey passed between them, throwing them off guard for a split second before they focused on their fight again. Except, sadly for Foudre, Lucille got back on track the quickest. The rat with the weirdly shaped tail barely had time to take a step back to avoid her sister''s first claw strike, but it was already too late. Under a constant barrage of attacks she didn''t have the time to seize an opening to strike back and, after a few moments, finally got hit by a lucky strike, leaving the way for a dozen more to follow. Foudre raised her paw to surrender and Lucille stopped mid-air, altering her course to spare her sister from a tail slap. The only ones still fighting were David and Blanche, still rolling around under everyone''s curious gaze. James finally had enough and snatched the two up with a tentacle and separated them. "Are you two finished with your little tantrum?" They both scoffed. "Very well. Goliath, you did a great job but you should try to stay aware of your surroundings, once I got in a sneak attack you immediately went down." The large ratling nodded, determined to do better during the next fight. "Lucille, Foudre. Just... It was impressive work, for sure. ONCE IT STARTED. I know you both heavily rely on your opponent''s move to act but, in real life, you can''t expect this to always work. What if they''re invisible? Or able to teleport? You both need to be a bit more proactive, and Foudre, if there is no opening try to make one." The two took his feedback in, Foudre was a little ashamed of her performance compared to her sister''s. "David. Blanche. Aside from your little tumblerat game, you actually both did a pretty good job. David''s moves are a bit primitive but you had enough brains to bait Blanche into repeating her past action, and Blanche you had a good idea to defend and counter, you even managed to equal David in a purely physical duel when you went mad. By the way, try to avoid that, berserk states are nice and all but they should be a last resort." Once again, two ratlings nodded their heads to James'' words. "Well then. Let''s switch it up. Lucille and Goliath, David and Foudre, and Blanche and I. Let''s go!" The following fights went as you would expect, Goliath despite his strength was completely outmatched by Lucille''s speed and dexterity and David''s reckless animalistic fighting style was exactly what Foudre had specialized in dealing with, doing a much better job at countering his mad charges than Blanche, something that annoyed both the small rat and his white sister. Of that batch, James and Blanche''s fight was the only interesting one. The albino had asked him to take on a rat form, going as far as to ask him to imitate David, and James had no trouble understanding she probably wasn''t over their fight and wanted to take out her frustrations during this spar. This would be a really unhealthy behavior in any other situation, but considering James'' shapeshifting he figured he could let it slide this time. His imitation wasn''t perfect, of course. Simulating fur was too complex and, just like during his fight with Goliath, it seemed he couldn''t go any smaller than a normal rat''s size, making his copy slightly bigger than Blanche, and much more than the real David who was very annoyed at the sight of his copy being larger than him. The start of the fight wasn''t that different from the last one for either of them, Blanche stood on her hind legs and waited for her opponent to attack while James got ready to charge. Truly, the fight seemed to go down the exact same way, with James rushing madly and pouncing on Blanche who was already ready to throw him aside with a palm strike- And that''s where things changed. Having learned from David''s fight, James immediately rotated in the air to strike Blanche with his tail, and, having learned from her own past mistake, Blanche began to crouch to let the tail pass above her head and began to turn to do her own tail slap. Sadly, she forgot to take two things into consideration. One, that turning on oneself to hit something with their tail while crouching when said tail was a major part of your balance was hard. Two, that James wasn''t actually a rat. As she was fumbling around to perform her attack, James'' black body, only solid on the surface but otherwise filled with gas shadows, was light enough to stay in the air during the entire course of his tail strike''s rotation and had no trouble repositioning himself to go from a horizontal hit to a vertical one, whacking Blanche on the head before she got the chance to correct her failed attack, which, due to her being off-balance, resulted in her ending up lying down on the ground. "Are you fine, Blanche?" "Squeak." Yes, there was no need to understand rat speech to comprehend the meaning of her words. "Only hurt in your pride, eh? Well, learning from your own failings and defeats is good, but avoid testing out fancy attacks in the middle of a fight. Remember, fancy stuff often comes at the cost of practicality." "Squeak." "Fine, fine. Still, don''t expect opponents to act and fight the same way just because they look the same. Even animals can mimick more dangerous species for protection or preys to bait their own." "Squeak, squeak." "Squeak!" "Goliath is right, nature documentaries can be a wonderful learning experience, even for fighters. Many animals have interesting tactics and ways of fighting that can be copied and-" "Sque. Eak." "Ok, no more rambling, but think about it, alright? Fine then, who''s next? Lucille, David, either of you wants to go first? And don''t fight over it please-" A loud rumbling echoed in the tunnels surrounding the nest, a rumbling accompanied by hissing and the sound of chitinous wings buzzing in the air. It sounded like an entire army of bees or beetles was marching - or, well, flying - down the tunnels and proudly declaring its ownership of the entire territory. James really, REALLY didn''t want to look outside but knew he had to. He took in a deep breath, left five nervous ratlings behind, and sent a tentacle out of the entrance to catch a glance at the origin of the mysterious cacophony, using his appendage like a periscope. Cockroaches. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them, flying around, small regular ones, some glowing, some with bladed antennae, some with both, some the size of rats, some the size of cats, some the size of dogs, some the size of people, and, after slithering his tentacle away from the nest and into the main path, where the main canal was located, all following a familiar cow-sized black cockroach with dried up blue blood on its long spear-like legs as it screeched to assert its dominance and order its lesser brethren, launching them into a campaign to eradicate all frogs within the sewers. From another tunnel, one way beyond James'' reach and one he had not previously explored but could tell was opposite from the room he had last seen the Titaroach in, a loud croaking sound resonated, the echo powerful enough to shake the walls even down to the nest. The croak was followed by thumping sounds, the hopping of an army of frogs and toads led by what was probably another humongous individual. The Titaroach had apparently just launched a territory war and, sadly for James and the ratlings, they were right in the middle of it. Chapter 17 : Buzzing and croaking If he didn''t already have a headache, James felt like he would get one now. From one side of the sewers, constant thumping sounds, born from the hops of hundreds of frogs and toads, as well as their thunderous, echoing croaks. From the other, constant buzzing was being produced by thousands of flying cockroaches as well as the screeches of their glorious leader. Yes, James definitely felt like some light painkillers would be appreciated, and the ratlings agreed. Who would have guessed that their sensitive hearing, incredibly useful when hunting or fleeing from predators, would accidentally be turned into a weapon against them, merely as a side effect of a primitive war between their neighbors? No, thinking about it that does sound accurate. It wasn''t like there was much James could do, he couldn''t magically make the noise disappear - or maybe he could, but with his power blocked it was impossible to know. He also couldn''t just ask them nicely to tone it down for obvious reasons. Asking two warring bodies to calm down never went well, at least if you weren''t stronger than the two of them combined, which James wasn''t. At least I think? Technically, he had never seen the Titaroach do anything special. It was just bigger, stronger, faster, and relatively smarter than its fellow insects. There hadn''t been any weird trick, no invisibility, no teleporting, no fire-breathing, nothing. It was just a bigger and meaner cockroach than normal, allegedly much bigger and meaner than even some people but, in a world with superpowers, that was... Rather bland. Maybe even manageable. I don''t know much about the toads'' leader but since the Titaroach thinks it can take it on in a fight and even win a war, it''s probably in a similar situation. Honestly, from what I''ve seen so far, the giant crocodile could probably kill either of them in one bite. Maybe both at the same time. It was a really big crocodile. Taking a second to look at the ratlings, James barely winced when he saw David banging his head against the wall. They had all removed their claws'' and teeth'' improvised sheaths in an attempt to plug their ears, and thankfully the other ratlings had other less extreme methods to cope with the noise, meditating under the instructions of Goliath. The only exception, bar David, was Foudre who surprisingly wasn''t bothered by the noise. If anything, it almost looked like she enjoyed it. Yeah, I can already hear the heavy metal in my future. I hope I''ll have managed to work out how to get better isolation by then. But getting back on topic, I think we may have a chance at fighting those overgrown pests. The main issue then, is whether or not I could do it without my usual shadow stuff. I mean, I should, that large cockroach that attacked us after the heist wasn''t an issue, the Titaroach should just be a repeat of that, just on a much bigger scale. Holding his chin with a tentacle, James pondered on the pros and cons of attempting some pest control. On the one hand, it would stop the noise and probably preserve the sewers'' status quo, and by extension their peace, on the other hand, it wasn''t like either of the warring forces had attacked them. Of course, it''s at this point that a dozen cockroaches - including some with bladed antennae - flew into the nest, followed by a handful of toads, and they all began to fight everything and everyone they could see. Despite the swiftness of the assault, the ratlings and James quickly got over their surprise and retaliated. James immediately turned into his Skitter form and jumped into the melee, hardening the tips of his legs as he fell to skewer one of the toads and a cockroach. Lucille jumped into the air and took hold of a cockroach, gripping its antennae with one paw as she settled on its head and began to use it as an impromptu mount, pulling on the antennae and leaning to the side to control its flight, currently going pretty much everywhere at once to strike other flying insects with her tail and claws which, despite their small size, proved more than effective in piercing and tearing chitin apart, sending small splatters of surprisingly sticky white blood in the air. David reveled sadistic glee in finally being able to rip into things again, charging madly left and right to harm everything on his path, never bothering to stick to one opponent - until a toad caught his tail with its tongue and began to drag him into its mouth. David''s expression went from its initial joy, to surprise, to confusion, to disgust, and finally, to joy again. He pounced up in the air, helping the toad in pulling him towards it, and used the momentum to land on the amphibian''s back before scratching deep into slimy skin with his claws, which were quickly turning red. Foudre quickly snatched up her homemade electric pack, put it on while evading a few cockroach swipes and, once she had both of the needles in her grasp, she began to taunt the flying insects, rubbing her needles together and squeaking loudly. When one of the cockroaches took the bait and rushed in on her, she only had to take a step to the side before piercing it with one of the needles, immediately electrocuting the bug and frying its insides before throwing its still twitching and fuming corpse on another cockroach. Blanche elegantly danced between the invaders, evading every attack until she finally managed to pick up her spear before dancing once more, this time wielding her nail and twisting it along with her tail and spine, drawing curves in the air as she narrowly avoided attack after attack with grace, each step and twirl accompanied by a rotation of the wrist and a spear strike, either with the "staff" in close quarters to knock aside those who dared step too close to the diva or with the "head" when she could, immediately ending their disgusting lives before doing another rotation to get rid of any critter corpse that would get stuck on her weapon. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Goliath, as could be expected, was the one who had the most difficulty adjusting to this surprise battle in their own home. Remembering his past encounter with the bladed cockroach, he quickly rushed to put on his armor- until a toad''s tongue hit him on the back and pulled with all of its strength... Sending the amphibian directly on Goliath''s back, the ratling being too large for its mouth to swallow him whole, putting it in the embarrassing predicament of being stuck on an enemy''s back without any way to attack. Goliath looked at the toad before quickly putting on as much of his armor as he could, only taking hold of the amphibian to get it off and launching it at a passing cockroach when it was time to put on his chest and back pieces. James was not idle during this time, currently transformed into a black ball that rolled over everything in its path and quickly forming hardened spikes on any critter too slow to avoid him, resulting in the pest getting crushed and skewered at the same time. Slowly, the ball began to shrink as four spikes, each one piercing through a toad and a cockroach or two, began to lengthen. The spikes turned into legs as James took on his Skitter form once more, although with a slightly different set-up: only three legs touched the ground as the last one was held in the air, slightly curled, and began to rotate at unnerving speeds. The advantage of not having any bone or muscle was that James wasn''t limited in the ways his body moved, meaning he was perfectly able to use his leg as a slingshot and his enemies'' corpses as ammo. He began to strike down flying bugs, once, twice, changing which leg was in the air as soon as he ran out of bodies to use as well as forming a fifth one to pick up nearby dead or dying pests. His attacks didn''t always hit but they still affected the cockroaches, forcing them to change their course if they didn''t want to be struck down. And them being so focused on James meant they were easy targets for Lucille''s aerial rampage. Her claw strikes might have not always killed their target but every small wound on their foes was a small victory, an opportunity to eviscerate them, to cut their limbs off, or even destroy their wings. David''s rampaging madness wasn''t really that effective on the cockroaches, their blood was too sticky for them to die of blood loss, but judging by the numerous bloody toads it was quite effective on the amphibians. Foudre''s shocking attacks didn''t kill the croaking beasts as instantly as they did the cockroaches but still proved very effective, paralyzing them long enough for David to leave a large gash or Blanche to skewer their brain. Goliath found his calling in getting rid of the fallen cockroaches, those who had lost their limbs or wings: his now armored form, bigger and weightier than he usually was, already quite large and heavy for a normal rat as young as him, allowed him to kill the invading pests simply by stomping or, after catching a glance of James'' technique, rolling. His method was different, of course, he curled himself into a ball and used his hearing and smell to gather his surroundings as he used his tail to direct his path. Given the small pointy parts of his armor, born from its origins as mere pieces of scrap awkwardly put together by the ratling himself, this unorthodox method of attacking even harmed the toads, the metal imperfections digging into their soft flesh and tearing it apart wherever David had already opened a wound. Despite the arrival of reinforcements all throughout the fight, the number of invaders in the nest dwindled, shrinking until finally only James and the ratlings were left, all fine and - mostly - unharmed. A couple of scratches here and there, at worst. As they all caught their breath in a sea of bodies, they heard the thunderous croak once more, quickly followed by the Titaroach''s screeching and hissing and all of their minions'' cheering and battle cries. But it wasn''t annoyance that filled the inhabitants of the nest, this time. It was worry. The leaders'' shouts were getting closer and closer. I already knew the Titaroach was near, but that toad as well... If they start to fight outside they could make the tunnels collapse... I know they could, even I could do it. If they destroy the sewers, the nest could be crushed by rubble again and it was really a pain to deal with it last time. But worse... If they manage to open a hole to the surface, it could attract the Heroes'' or Villains'' attention and if any big shot came by I don''t think I could run away, they''d probably notice me and I don''t want to imagine what they would do to someone, no, something with the Transformation Aspect... James gulped. We have to deal with this now. "Kids, I know this may sound insane, but I think we should go outside and fight these two - or at least kill the Titaroach, maybe its death will be enough to calm that toad down and it''ll go back to wherever it came from." Lucille looked at him, her expression entirely neutral. "Squeak." "Listen, if we kill one of these two the other beasties around here will understand we''re not to be messed with." This time it was Foudre''s turn to answer. "Squeak." "Just look at what we''ve done! We got rid of these pests with no problem, look!" James picked up one of the bladed cockroaches and held it up with his tentacle for all to see. "One of these was enough to nearly kill Goliath last time. But here? It was just another enemy, one that we killed like all of the others. And look, you still have one of those stuck on your armor Goliath!" Goliath, who was about to squeak, turned around and saw that it was true: there was another bladed cockroach on his armor, its crushed body stuck on the small spikes on his back. "If we all work together, we can do this. You five deal with the swarm, I''ll handle the big one. It may know how to kill toads but it never fought something like me." Lucille looked at Blanche, who stayed silent. "Squeak." They both turned around to stare at David, a determined grin on his snout. "Squeak." This time it was Goliath, he wasn''t as confident as his younger brother but he was just as determined. "Three for, two against, and one neutral vote. Is that it?" The ratlings looked at each other before nodding, Foudre and Lucille doing so reluctantly. "Then that means we''re doing it. But hey, let''s not rush in blindly. Gather up, everybody. I have a plan." The same thought passed through all of the ratlings'' brains: not again... Chapter 18 : Actual threats James looked all around him. The usually calm and silent tunnels of the sewers were filled with buzzes and croaks, all born from the armies of cockroaches and toads that seemed to be covering every available surface. All of the usual inhabitants of the damp and dark tunnels had fled or were hiding in their homes, James could even sense a spider the size of a man poking its head out of the hole in the ceiling where it resided, instantly closing the entrance to its nest once it saw the swarm of cockroaches approaching it. Even the predators are wary of what''s happening, then. This could be to our advantage. Behind him, the ratlings cautiously exited the nest, carefully sniffing, watching, and listening to any potential threat. Thankfully it seemed the battling critters didn''t care about the dry tunnels all that much, the force that they had just faced probably only being a group of cockroaches fleeing from a group of toads. Which means the toads are stronger than them. Killing the Titaroach should probably be enough to end this chaos, without their leader the rest will just disperse or get killed. Not that he was foolish enough to think it would be easy. Considering what he had read on the Internet, it was very likely the oversized insect had a few tricks up its metaphorical sleeves. And even if James managed to get rid of it, there was no guarantee the leader of the toads would just go back to sleep and leave this part of the tunnels alone. "Is everyone ready?" ""Squeaks!"" The ratlings, no matter their opinion on the plan, were determined to win the fight to defend their home. They had trained - though admittedly not for long - for this kind of situation and were ready to show they could handle themselves. David was quite glad he''d get to kill more things, too. James observed the five little rodents, all equipped with random scraps they had barely managed to assemble together, all with barely the minimum amount of training behind them and a clear lack of military discipline - except for Lucille, of course, though James had absolutely no idea where it came from. And, upon analyzing this little group of rats wearing trash and living in the sewers, James couldn''t be any prouder. "Alright then. Remember, you don''t have to constantly stick together but try to stay within each other''s sight, you must be ready to help any of you at any point." ""Squeak!"" "Your objective isn''t to kill as many opponents as possible, it''s to survive while still proving to be a legitimate threat they cannot ignore. It should allow me to fight the boss on my own without worrying about too many reinforcements getting in my way." ""Squeak!"" James glanced at them one last time, noting their grinding teeth, their tight grips on their respective weapons, and the sparkle in their eyes. "Well then, let''s go."
The Titaroach looked upon its legions of insects. Soon, very soon they would eradicate the amphibians that had hunted their kind in sadistic pleasure. Under its rule cockroaches would finally get rid of their predators and rise above their status of a mere bottom feeder. Yes, all would fear them above the waters, and none shall dare defy their authority. The best way to guarantee safety. It looked at its lesser kin, currently battling the army of toads that had answered their ruler''s call. Many would die in the operation, and the Titaroach had no doubt the population of their species would greatly decrease once everything was done - still, they would have time to grow back. No one could ever truly get rid of cockroaches if they didn''t want to leave, after all. It ignored some of its more clumsy brethren as they flew right into its chitinous body, perfectly aware of how troublesome movements in the air could be, especially at larger sizes. It itself had given up on using its wings some time ago, once it had become large enough to kill rats with a single stab of its legs, painted blue by the blood of the numerous amphibians it had exterminated. Thinking of rats, it recalled that strange encounter it had not so long ago. Two young ratlings, one surprisingly white and the other with an oddly shaped tail, both accompanied - and apparently following - some mysterious black creature it had never seen before. Not that it knew all there was to know on the sewers, of course, but still, this thing was truly... Unique. There hadn''t been any need to attack it, it had shown no hostility and had respected their feeding grounds, but it was still unsettling. It had seemed as though the shadows were alive- Slash. It jerked up and jumped a few steps backs, its right side hurting. It wiggled its antennae and looked around with its eyes, slowly moving to put its back to the wall. Just a few seconds and- Slash. Again! It could sense the smell of its own blood, a small cut on each of its sides. A cockroach''s blood was too thick and sticky for it to die of blood loss but the pain brought by the wounds was annoying. One of the drawbacks of its increased intellect was an increased sensibility sadly, born from the numerous new nerves he had grown. But now was not the time to complain about its flaws, it was the time to eradicate the thing that had dared attack it! But how- Slash. AGAIN! A flick of the antennae quickly struck the area where the wound had appeared, shattering the ground and a part of the wall, but its attacker had already moved. It was in no mortal danger, but this thing was really getting on its nerves- You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Slash. AGAIN! It screeched, its call echoing in the tunnels. The closest cockroaches reacted, abandoning their amphibian opponents to help their leader handle the unknown thing that had suddenly begun attacking it. It waited, one, two- STRIKE! It had correctly predicted the thing''s next attack and had struck it with its antennae before it even had the time to touch its chitinous armor. Hum, strange. It couldn''t sense any blood on its antennae, how curious- Slash. RAAARGHHHHH! HOW?! HOW HAD IT EVADED ITS ATTACK?! It had definitely felt like it had hit something soft! How- FWOOSH. It jumped and looked under its body. There! It saw it, a small, familiar black mass. The shadow creature from not so long ago! "SCREE!" The Titaroach screeched once more. The little annoyance wanted to play? Why, there were legions of insects that would gladly play with it. It could already hear it, the buzzing nearby intensifying as its followers heard its call once more. It couldn''t afford to waste its time and energy, the toads'' ruler could appear any time now and- And something was wrong. Why were its kin so slow? There should already be more right now, why- It saw them. Five little furry things, each one wielding some amount of metal, running around and killing its brethren, broken chitin and white blood flying everywhere. How dare they! HOW DARE THEY! It screeched once more, canceling its previous orders and giving new ones. It would bear with the annoying strikes of the shadowy thing, at least until its army was done tearing apart the vermin that had the gall to attack them. SHLICK! "SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" It screeched once more, but this time without rhyme or reason. This was no order, only a painful and maddened cry. The Titaroach focused on the annoying little thing, barely having the time to catch it retrieving its own elongated and solid body from its insides, the stake-like thing turning into a liquid before reforming as a strange silhouette further away. This. This would not be tolerated. In the back of its mind, it could perceive some of the other cockroaches'' doubts, buzzing and emitting pheromones amongst each other, their instincts instructing them to flee and to go cower and hide at the sight of their mighty leader having such troubles with such a small, insignificant foe. It set its sight onto the strange creature, its upper part reminding it of those weird two-legged entities it had seen from time to time, even eating a couple of them. It buzzed. If its enemy gave up on stealth and truly fought as these intriguing preys had, this crisis would soon be over. And, if the thumping sounds of the heavy hops of a gigantic toad were to be trusted, it would be just in time for the main course.
James looked at the Titaroach and tried to study its body language. Which, on an insect, is unsurprisingly hard. Still, it didn''t take a genius to understand that its screech following his spear attack was one of pain and not dominance or some kind of order, like those until now. James barely had the time to see the thing''s antennae move before he felt something going through him, moving to the side just in time to only lose a part of his shoulder rather than be cut in half. He didn''t have the time to congratulate himself on his narrow evasion or ponder about why the pain he felt was closer to that of a light hit than a deep cut before he had to bend backward, the Titaroach''s second antenna cutting through the air where his head used to be. It quickly jumped and tried to skewer James with two of his legs, a mad glint in its eyes, but he quickly changed his body to incorporate holes right where they were going to strike, successfully letting them pass through without any of the pain the cuts had inflicted - right in time for his cut-off shoulder to melt and reunite with the rest of him. The Titaroach looked down in confusion at its legs and how they had apparently pierced James without hurting him when it noticed the holes in his body, right as James began to quickly close them with an added sharpness to the edges. It jumped back as fast as it could, avoiding the complete loss of its limbs as the holes finally closed, merely cutting off the very tips of the legs. Either it''s really quick for something this big or I''m slower than I thought... Probably both. James analyzed the situation. This thing was too big and its blood too thick for him to just exhaust it with light quick and stealthy attacks. At the same time, it was too quick to get caught by anything too slow or flashy. He had yet to take the time to develop a proper fighting style, sadly, mostly relying on killing his opponents before they had the time to react. I really have to fix this... I''ll do that as soon as we''re rid of this. The Titaroach took a step forward and- SLAM! Bent backward once more, James looked in horror at the wall next to him - or, more accurately, the gigantic hole where there used to be a wall - before looking back at his opponent, its antennae curled around each other to create a thicker whip. Another step forward and- SLAM! Another step- SLAM! Another- SLAM! Ano- SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! The Titaroach looked at the last spot it had seen James, its antennae unfurling. The tunnel was filled with craters on the ground and holes in the wall, leading straight into another, dirtier tunnel. It stepped forward, quickly turning over the rubble as it passed, checking every nook and cranny. Nothing. Nothing, except for a slow trickle of dust from the ceiling, probably from one of its strikes. Except it hadn''t hit the ceiling Crack. Rocks and bricks began to fall and crushed the Titaroach under their weight, the large chitinous body disappearing under the stone with mad screeches and loud rumbling noises. And then, silence. In the tunnels, the silence spread. The cockroaches began to question each other with pheromones, what should they do? Was the leader dead? Should they keep on fighting? The toads quickly followed, disrupting the silence with their croaking. The enemy had been killed, should they go home? Or should they keep on feasting? What about that weird monster, the one that had defeated the menace? The ratlings took the time to breathe. James hadn''t had the luxury to keep an eye on them but they seemed fine. Only a few bruises and scratches, nothing that wouldn''t heal in a couple of days. He let out a sigh, glad to see everything had worked out. Then a wall exploded. Amidst a cloud of dust, on top of a ground littered with broken bricks, stood the leader of the toads. As big as the Titaroach, if not even bigger, with a slick, moist, and slimy red skin covered in growths, bumps, warts, and brown markings with a cow print pattern, the gargantuan amphibian let its lazy golden eyes with their unique shapes, the pupils and irises being longer than tall, scan the tunnels. Its gaze settled on James and the large pile of rubble behind him. Its gaze narrowed before it hopped. CRASH! The ground shattered and cracked where the toad landed and, now that it was outside of the cloud of dust, James noticed a very important detail. A very large and important detail. A massive pair of horns, going out of the sides before curving forward, like a bull''s, adorned the toad''s head. It looked down at James and croaked before suddenly jumping forward, aiming the tips of its horns at James and easily snatching him up and crushing him against the pile of rubble, still skewered on the massive horns of the toads. Ow... This... Is going to hurt... Then the pile of rubble exploded. Chapter 19 : Titaroach and Matoador As the cloud of dust settled down, the situation in the sewer tunnels became clearer. Most of the smaller critters, the toads and cockroaches that had warred so far, were trying to low down and slowly stepped back from where the explosion had occurred - never daring to take their eyes off the three creatures that seemed to be the ones who would determine how this fight would end. The three fighters in question each slowly looked at the others in the middle of a field of rubbles, checking their state, their opponent''s, and how dangerous they could be. On one side was a gigantic red and brown bull-themed toad with massive horns, quickly nicknamed Matoador by James. On the other was a humongous black cockroach with blue markings and bladed antennae which were currently flicking in the air, a very angry Titaroach. And finally, between the two and with his back to the canal, James himself. Still using his humanoid form, he stood taller than the Titaroach but shorter than the Matoador - not that height mattered when the both of them were this large. As he regenerated the holes left behind by the Matoador''s horns after its charge, James quickly checked up on the ratlings and the two monsters before him. Good news, the ratlings were fine. Some scratches here and there but nothing too dangerous. Bad news, neither of the two aggressive beasts that had started this rampage seemed injured. Oh, the Titaroach still had the cuts that James had inflicted, but just as he had thought such small injuries were useless on a creature immune to blood loss, it almost looked like they had already healed, turning into small white lines, but James knew those were only the thick blood providing an emergency clotting. Oh well, better luck next time. And it doesn''t appear phased by the whole tons-of-stone-falling-on-it thing. This... Is harder than I hoped it''d be. CROOOK! And I also have this new abomination to take care of. Great. Indeed, the Matoador was quickly growing bored of this stand-off. Its skin didn''t appear harmed by its charge straight into a pile of rock and its horns were just as spotless. It began to drag its feet on the ground, mimicking a bull''s hoof pawing - a clear sign of an incoming charge. So, let''s sum it up. Neither seems to care about blunt damage, cutting isn''t effective on a cockroach this big and the same is probably true for the big guy. Let''s try piercing then! James jumped back, quickly forming a pair of bat-like wings and turning parts of his body into a highly dense gas, thick enough to stay connected to his solid parts and yet light enough to lose weight and ease the use of his wings to stay afloat. Of course, neither of the two animals let him freely break the stalemate without doing anything themselves. The Matoador immediately charged at James as soon as he began to move, his new airborne method of transport allowing to narrowly escape the mad amphibian''s horns as it quickly found itself hitting the floor on the other side of the canal headfirst whereas the Titaroach decided to play it safer, running onto the wall and putting some distance between itself and its two opponents. The Matoador quickly hopped back into the fight, completely unaffected by its blunder - apart from its red-colored skin getting slightly lighter, James noted. The Titaroach immediately struck with its long bladed antennae, taking care to aim for James first in such a way that its attack would still hit the Matoador once it would have cut him in half. James flapped his wings and rose above the attack, an attack which ended up harmlessly bouncing off the Matoador''s fat slimy hide. The Matoador launched its tongue at the Titaroach who jumped out of the way at the last moment, letting the tongue get stuck on the wall before brandishing its bladed antennae once more and striking down, aiming to cut the fleshy appendage in two - which surprisingly worked. CROOOOOK! The long, pink muscled organ began to thrash in the air, nearly hitting James as blood gushed out of the cut and the Matoador croaked in pain, the Titaroach buzzing in pleasure at the sight of its main objective''s suffering. That is until James pierced it with a newly-formed spear-leg. Then it too began to screech. SCREEEEE! Hearing the cockroach''s pained cry shook the toad out of its stupor, and it was not pleased. Its red skin, which had been a dark shade of crimson at the beginning of the fight, had slowly lightened until now when it suddenly accelerated the process, becoming a bright scarlet, nearly glowing red - James was pretty sure it also emitted the air-altering effect of extreme heat. Even its horns had become a lighter shade of white, so light it appeared to glow. It almost seemed like there was steam coming out of its ears and some of its warts, too. CROOOK! James extracted his leg from the Titaroach and dodged back, evading another swing of its antennae and even a few attacks it did with its legs before rushing down onto the ground, letting himself turn into a more liquidy form and quickly rushing under the Titaroach''s body. The insect, remembering James'' previous tactic, stayed still for a second before jumping off the wall just as the Matoador began to charge, hitting the spot where it had been - and, by extension, James. AAAAAHHHHH! James'' sense of pain had been greatly diminished, but not fully removed - something this experience painfully demonstrated. The actual attack, the charge itself, hadn''t hurt that much, merely equal to a punch in the gut. No, the true source of James'' suffering was the heat emitted by the toad''s skin and horns. It felt like he had only been punched, true, but by someone wearing a burning metal gauntlet, one on the edge of melting. So... Fire... Bad... The Titaroach buzzed at the sight of James'' body being incrusted in the wall as he was, as well as his lack of movement. It then quickly focused back on the Matoador as it turned around and faced it. The two mortal enemies stared each other down, the toad groaning to show its displeasure at the bug''s challenge as said challenger buzzed to taunt its opponent, taking care to analyze each and every one of its moves to predict any future charge. Then there was a spear in its thorax, again. SCREEEEEEE! James quickly flowed back, avoiding the large insect''s stomping frenzy as it realized he had survived getting splattered on the wall. I have a fast recovery, good to know. Though hopefully there won''t be any more bad surprises- The Titaroach screeched as its markings and openings in its chitinous armor - both the natural segmented ones and the cuts made by James - began to glow a bright blue and sparks of electricity began to fly between its two antennae. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Of course it would- AAAAAHHHHH! The Titaroach unleashed massive amounts of electricity on James from the tips of its antennae. And again. And again. And again. And again. And- The Matoador sent it flying with a headbutt. Elec... Tricity... Bad... Too... The Titaroach got back on its feet and screeched at the Matoador. The two faced each other once more, one emitting large amounts of steam and heat to the point that the water in the canal began to boil and the other releasing large amounts of electricity in the air, some stray sparks already branching off and traveling through the steam cloud, fading away before they could reach the Matoador. All throughout the tunnel cockroaches and toads began to buzz and croak, each side cheering for their champion, praising their might and encouraging them for this fight. They would be the ones to win, they would be the ones to kill their opponent, they would be the ones ruling this area! The sole exceptions to this were five little rats, equipped with improvised metal weaponry, who looked worryingly at the two combatants, noticing the absence of their caretaker ever since he had been hit with the Titaroach''s electricity. The two monsters kept on staring at each other, slowly getting closer as their respective emissions grew stronger. And then a shadow rose on the wall behind the two.
Two ruffians were exploring the sewers. One was tall and scrawny, dressed in red and beige and carrying a shovel on his shoulder, while the other was short and on the wider side of things, wearing brown and red and lighting up the path forward with a flashlight. Both had black and somewhat greasy unkempt hair. "Say Barry, you sure this is a good idea?" "Why, having second thoughts Larry?" "Well, momma didn''t raise no dummy, and going down there is kinda dumb. And I think I''m getting a cold." "Ah, but you see Larry, it''s because going down here is dumb that it''s smart." "Uh?" "If no one''s dumb enough to roam the sewers, then no one''s gonna find any hidden stash. So, where''s the best place to hide something?" "The bank?" "What? No! The sewers you idiot! No one comes by so no idiot can find something they weren''t meant to." "But Barry, doesn''t that mean that bad people could be down there too?" "Bah, we just have to make them think we''re badder than them! It''s like with bears, you just have to appear bigger!" "But Barry, not all bears are scared of yelling, there are even some that get even madder if you do!" "Larry, Larry, leave the thinking to me, alright?" "Sure Barry, sure" The two advanced in silence for a minute. "Barry, I think we''re lost." "Larry I swear to-" A few meters ahead of the two a wall suddenly exploded. No, it''d be more accurate to say that something burst through the wall. They could see it right now in fact, a surprisingly large bulltoad was fighting an equally oversized electroach, releasing great amounts of steam, heat, and electricity around them. Barry could almost feel himself losing weight just by being near, it was worse than that time they had tried to make a sauna to rip-off idiots. The electroach was currently being pressed against a wall by the bulltoad''s head, its body heat slowly cooking the insect as it screamed in pain and discharged electricity into the toad, the steam and slime it produced providing excellent conductors which allowed the electroach''s attack to be even more effective than it would normally be. The electroach produced a particularly large discharge in a burst, throwing the bulltoad away despite its weight and giving the insect enough time to get back up and collect itself. The two monsters looked at each other and began to groan, trying to intimidate their opponent into giving up. And then Larry sneezed. "Larry, why." "Barry, I''m sorry." The two beasts turned around and stared at the two little things that had dared interrupt their duel, their hatred for one another slipping into hatred toward those annoying little bipedal pests - whose silhouette somewhat reminded them of that annoying shadow thing. They slowly approached the two ruffians, ready to have a quick mid-fight snack. "Larry, give me the gun." "The gun?" "The gun I asked you to buy. The gun you told me you had." "Ah, that gun." "Yes, that gun." "It, huh..." "Yes, Larry? What could possibly trouble you enough NOT TO TAKE THE SOLE THING THAT COULD SAVE US IN THIS LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION?!" "It doesn''t work." "What." "Well, you know how I told it was a brand new gun? Turns out only the paint was new. The rest was old. Like, really old. Like, it can''t shoot anything." "Why did you buy a USELESS PIECE OF SCRAP?!" "I thought it was legit! Barney sold it to me and he works for the Angels!" "But Barney is a scammer Larry! HE NEVER SELLS ANYTHING LEGIT!" SCREEE! CROOOK! Larry and Barry brought their focus back on the two murderous monsters that were much closer than they were a few seconds ago and couldn''t help but hug each other for comfort. "Oh gods we''re going to die." "You know what Larry? Despite everything, at least I''m glad I get to be with you in the end." "Oh Barry!" CROOOK! SCREEE! "OH GODS WE''RE GOING TO DIE!" "IT''S ALL YOUR FAULT LARRY!" ""AAAHHH!"" And, just as the bulltoad and the electroach were about to each devour one of the two idiots before them, a massive black spike fell from the ceiling onto the bulltoad, falling on its head on a spot with brown skin and going all the way through its skull and mouth, the tip of the spike piercing through the bottom of its throat and getting stuck into the ground. The bulltoad didn''t even have the time to try and take a look at its aggressor, blood began to fly out of its wound as the amphibian simply fell down, its rage no longer fueling its muscles its lifeless body stopped emitting heat and steam and returned to its darker colors as its eyes began to roll back into its skull. The spike that had felled the beast melted, turning into a shadow that suddenly charged at the electroach. The insect screeched, launching bolt after bolt of electricity at the shadow that simply formed holes wherever the attack was going to fall, ultimately rendering the large bug''s attempts at killing it useless. The electroach began to back off, screeching more and more as it kept on sending electricity, its attacks getting less and less focused and more desperate. Had Larry and Barry not known that electroach were all mindless killing machines they would almost think the thing was afraid. What a silly notion, had they not been in a life or death situation involving two monstrous Cored animals and an unknown entity - well, only one monstrous Cored animal now. "Larry, I think we should run." A stray lightning bolt flew above their heads and struck the ground a few meters behind them. "On second thought, don''t move. At all." The electroach screeched once more at the small black puddle on the ground as it got closer, hoping beyond hope it could scare the little abomination away. A plan that failed, obviously, given the brand new massive spike in its thorax, going all the way to the ceiling. SCREEEEEEEEEE! The electroach focused all of its energy on itself, releasing a last-minute electric aura to fry the shadow or at least force it to give it some space. Which worked, surprisingly. The small shadow rushed away as soon as the insect began to emit its electricity, slowly emerging from the ground and taking on a somewhat humanoid form - if you were willing to call the silhouette of some kind of vampire or cape-wearing spirit humanoid, that is. Something was wrong, however. Even Barry and Larry could tell the electroach''s discharge was too long, and even if it had been willingly keeping it active more than normal it should have stopped screeching and probably would try to run away. Instead, it stayed in the same pose for unnervingly long seconds, screeching all the while, at least until smoke began to escape from the openings in its chitinous armor and its eyes suddenly popped. Barry and Larry flinched at that, still in each other''s arms. Their gaze went from the electroach that was somehow electrocuting itself to the shadowy thing that seemed to be taking in the spectacle. Huh, it worked. I mean, it was obvious that its chitin wouldn''t be affected by electricity or at least wouldn''t be conductive, otherwise, it would have killed itself long ago, but I wasn''t entirely sure this protection wouldn''t extend to its insides. The Titaroach finally fell, no longer emitting anything. Its blue markings stopped glowing and its legs curled up. Still, good idea to hide the scraps I was carrying in the ceiling. I''m pretty sure its lightning bolts would have had an easier time hitting me otherwise. Annnd I''m very, very thankful the shadow shifting came back. I don''t think shadow manipulation would have been helpful here but being a shadow sure helped, especially with speed. "Do... Do you think it''s going to eat us, Barry?" "Shut up Larry. SHUT. UP." Oh yeah. These two. Well, this is awkward, I have no plan in case of human contact yet. What could I do? I mean, just leaving would be weird and they may report me to someone or... "Do you think it''s a vampire, Barry? I don''t want my blood to be drunk!" "Larry do not make the very nice shadow thing that just saved our lives mad. Especially when it could easily kill us both!" Do... Do they think they''re being stealthy? Ok, let''s get this over with. James turned around - not that he needed to, he just wanted to let them think he actually had a front and a back - and began approaching the two dirty ruffians he had accidentally saved. He had absolutely no idea of what would happen next. Chapter 20 : The various uses of goons James approached the two persons that he had saved by killing the Titaroach and the Matoador. On the left was a tall lanky man wearing a beige sleeveless vest and pants with a pale red shirt, the jacket looking quite similar to what a hobbyist fisherman may put on for an afternoon on the lake. He had long black greasy unkempt hair, reaching slightly below his shoulders, as well as a small goatee on his chin. Around his neck was a small red headscarf with white patterns. On the right was a shorter and broader man, wearing an old aviator''s jacket with brown leather pants and a dark red shirt. A pair of large goggles rested upon his bald head, making his black and greasy muttonchops all the more prominent. And the two of them were currently hugging each other while looking at James, for some reason. He took a deep breath. This situation could quickly get out of hand, what was the best way to handle it? Obviously being upfront about his status as a reincarnated person desperate for a chance at a normal life was an idiotic choice. Even without considering the Supers around, there would probably have been many scientists on good old Earth who would have gladly jumped on the opportunity to study the soul and its link to death without his consent, so here? With actual mad scientists trying to take over the world? Nope. No way. Hell, there probably was some kind of insane experiment about creating an eldritch monster feeding on souls and spreading death going on somewhere right now. That last thought seemed weirdly specific. Let''s just ignore that for now, for my own sanity. But yes, now was not a moment of truth but lies. Deceit was the keyword here, the question was what to say and do exactly. Pretend to be some kind of governmental agent, here to clean up the local vermin population? Not bad, though he had no permit to show or any idea how the politics of this country or even this city worked. New Hero in training? Same issue, he had no idea of the logistics of this kind of thing, especially since Heroes were apparently an actual police force instead of the usual vigilantes that he knew of. Wait, that was it! He could pretend to be a Vigilante! No rules to follow, he was just a local law-breaker aiming to help the community by cleaning up a monster infestation. That was the perfect cover-up. All he had to do was take on a deeper and more mature voice than normal and he''d be set- "PLEASE DON''T KILL US MISTER VAMPIRE SIR!" "SHUT UP LARRY!" ...Uh. I hadn''t thought of the vampire route. It could work, they''d be too afraid to give any info on me to anyone that matters and even feel thankful and indebted to me if I "spared" them. Yes, let''s roll with scary sewer vampire for now. Let''s start off by setting the mood. "Silence, the both of you." James twisted the surrounding shadows, darkening the surrounding sewer walls and spreading to the floor. His little trick seemed to have worked, judging by the duo''s gulps and their pale faces. "Now then, what to do with you... Larry and Barry, if I recall correctly?" ""Y-yes sir!"" "Very well. You see, Larry and Barry, your presence here was... Unexpected. And while I can appreciate a pleasant surprise as anyone could, you are not one of those. You are a surprise, of that there is no doubt, but it is far from pleasant. Far from it, truly." Sweat began to form in abundant amounts on the two ruffians'' faces, giving their skin a small luster and cleaning off some of the grime that they had gathered following their stay in the tunnels. "My existence, as well as my activities, are supposed to be kept secret, no one should be aware of me or what I do as of now, which means that you witnessing this little scuffle is problematic and goes against what I''ve worked for so far." I mean, it isn''t that far off from the truth. It''s pretty spot on actually. "We''re very sorry if we''re making problems sir. Very, very sorry." "Oh, do not be mistaken, this little issue will be solved, this I know. The only thing that is still uncertain is whether or not the solution I reach will be beneficial to you, or in the worst case, detrimental." "H-how detrimental, exactly?" "There is no need to ponder about the ramifications of something none of us want, is there?" I hope I''m nailing the pompous talk, I have absolutely no idea how people like this should talk apart from books, movies, and series. "Y-you''re right, sir!" "I know. Now then, I am quite curious why the two of you, who seem like perfectly regular humans, thought that wandering these tunnels would be a good idea. You are so fragile compared to the locals, and I''m not even talking about this pair. They proved to be a hassle, hence their untimely demise, you see?" Barry gulped as he took in James'' words. "I-I think we understand, sir." "I''m not sure I do Barry-" "I''ll explain later, Larry. Don''t worry." "Okie Dokie." James may not have been able to read minds but even he could clearly see how astonished Barry was that his companion calmed down so quickly. It reminded him a little bit of that Jimmy he had seen among the Blood Angels in a way, and he didn''t know how if he should be thankful that apparently, the people living around him were less intelligent than average or worried that this entire world lacked some kind of common sense. "But as for why we''re here... We actually got lost and-" He''s lying, but why? Oh, maybe... "Ah, I know: you were searching for treasures, weren''t you? I remember there was that small silver spider that passed by not so long ago, carrying an impressive amount of various items. Were you looking for it, perchance?" "A silver spider?" "A Snatcher!" Larry''s little outburst surprised both his partner and James, the later of the two being very glad that his performance so far had been preserved by his lack of a face and his body''s tendency to stay still without direct input. The list of perks of not having muscles and a nervous system was steadily growing. While James had an internal monologue on the boons of having a non-human body, Barry had begun to hug Larry tighter and rub him tenderly, clearly trying to comfort the taller - and currently heavily crying - man. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Calm down Larry, he said ''small'', it''s probably a Scavenger. It''s ok." "A-are you sure?" "Yes, I''m sure." The two stopped their hug, Larry cleaning off his tears with a swipe of his sleeve while Barry bowed slightly to James who felt pretty uncomfortable in this situation. "Sorry sir, Larry just had a bad time with those things when we were kids." "You are forgiven, trauma is nothing to scoff at or ignore. Though, I must admit that I''m intrigued, what are those ''Scavengers'' and-" Seeing Barry quickly shaking his head while making a shooing motion, James quickly got the idea. "-those other things?" "I''m surprised someone like you wouldn''t know, sir." Ah. The trauma talk threw me off. Quick, an excuse as to why I don''t know much- I know! The truth! "I''m not from these parts, you see. Oh, I do know those spiders are supposedly creations of an individual who calls herself the Empress, but not much else." "Oooh, a foreigner! What is it like outside?" "Not now, Larry, we''ll ask later. Well, sir, those are names people came up with. We know her goons call them Harvesters but honestly, there are so many different types it gets hard to remember which is which." "Hence the new names?" "Yup. Scavengers are small and mostly dig in trash piles, kill small stuff and steal money. The, uhm, other ones I mentioned are known to... How do I put it..." While Barry was struggling to find a way to say what he wanted to without disturbing his partner, Larry simply filled in the blank. "They take people." The neutral tone of his voice was much lower and serious than until now. It was unsettling to James to see the man that had so far been either cowardly shaking in his boots or stereotypically stupid and careless be so... Real. "Yeah... That..." "And police do nothing? What about Heroes?" "Bah! No blue idiot or spandex fan cares about the slums. They''re leaving us here to die. The only ones who try to help are Vigilantes, and they''re either worse than Villains or too weak to do anything." "I see..." Technically it means I shouldn''t be worried about the authorities going after me but... It''s just sad. How can they just ignore an entire part of the city and let it rot away? "Well, thank you for this information. Now, you didn''t answer my last question..." "Ah, uh, yes, we were looking for good stuff to take. Sorry if we walked into your territory." ...Uh. I guess it is my territory, in a way. Never thought I''d rule over a small part of the sewers on another world, then again, who does? "It is no trouble. Onto one last thing, what is it you two do?" "Uh, I told you, we were looking for-" "No, I mean as in your occupation. What it is you spend your days doing to gain enough to live." "Ah. Uh, well, thing is..." Barry looked at James and pondered about what was the best answer to give. The thing had been fairly polite all things considered, and apart from the constant worry that he could be killed any second for giving an answer that would anger it, everything had gone pretty well. What would it like to hear? That they were part of a gang or working for a Villain? No, it hadn''t seemed that impressed with the Empress, maybe it didn''t like criminals. That they were scouts for a Vigilante? No, he had already made it pretty clear he disliked them, going back on his words would be suspicious and it would catch the lie immediately. Would it even accept a lie? Barry didn''t know anything about their savior''s powers, maybe they could feel it whether people lied or not. But the truth was... Well, it wasn''t much. It wasn''t good. It was... "We''re scammers, sir." Barry''s eyes opened wide and he turned around just in time to catch the last syllable leaving Larry''s mouth. He was about to blow up and tell his companion to shut up when James began to speak. "Scammer?" "Yes sir. We look for stuff that looks neat and then sell it for a bunch to people who don''t know any better. The rest of the time we haggle or steal small stuff that nobody cares about enough to go after us." "And it works? Considering what you said, you don''t appear to visit the slums often, haven''t the people here caught onto the trick? And haven''t they grown tired of your shenanigans and gone after you?" "Oh, many did. It''s why we''re down here, we hoped we could find enough to pay the people that keep us in to let us go to the rest of the city, so we could start over there. It''d be better than staying here." "I see..." For Barry, that was it. They were going to die. Now that this thing knew they were thieves and nobodies, even in the slums, it wouldn''t see any use in letting them go, in fact, maybe it would try to turn their corpses in to get a reward of some sort - not that there was one, no one cared enough about the two to pay to be rid of them. "Well then, thank you for your cooperation. Now-" "PLEASE DON''T KILL US!" James looked at the panting Barry that had just interrupted him, sweat falling from his forehead like a waterfall, the man already flinching, ready to be hit after daring to interrupt him. "We-We can be useful. You said you wanted to lay low, right? That means you can''t go up. We could be your guys up there, giving you info on what''s happening!" "A very tempting offer but I do have a phone and an Internet connection. As I was saying-" "BUT! But your phone won''t give any useful info here, no one talks about what''s happening in the sewers except the people who live there! A-And we could buy stuff for you, too!" "But we don''t have any money-" "SHUT UP LARRY! But yeah, you see? We are super useful, so don''t kill us please, and let us become your goons!" James looked silently at the two men, checking them from head to toe again, letting long and stressful seconds pass without saying anything. Larry didn''t seem that concerned but Barry was somehow sweating even more than before and his face got paler and paler. ...I''m not fond of the anger issue and the lack of basic comprehension, but they do bring up a good point: I could use the help of someone who knows about the local politics and who could buy stuff for me on the surface. James allowed the silence to last a little longer before finally giving them an answer. "I would like to begin by saying I had no intention of killing you. Our little chat gave me ample time to realize you were not threats, and despite your less than savory way of life you both were good people, at least good enough that I could trust to stay silent about me with a little bribe." "Oh thanks sir!" Barry wasn''t quite as optimistic as Larry, gulping as he noticed James'' use of the past tense. Both of them missed how the shadows moved behind James, around the place he and the two beasts he had killed had burst through the wall, and how small little furballs were looking at those shifting shadows before one left. "As for your proposition... Do you even know what I plan on doing?" "Well... Uhm... If you''re staying down here, I''d say Vigilante or Villain stuff?" "You asked to work for me while being unsure of what I did, your only guesses being two vastly different occupations, with one trying to do ''good'' and the other ''evil''?" "I mean, good and evil are pretty subjective so-" "Yes, but that is not the point. The point is I could either order you to go kill orphans or teach them how to read and you would be fine with both?" "I... No." "Good. Which one?" "Sorry?" "Which one would you do?" "I... Honestly, neither. Maybe helping the kids, but I don''t care all that much about them. I just want to survive." "A disappointing but acceptable answer. And you, Larry?" "Oh, I love spending time with kids! But I can''t teach them how to read, I can''t." "An issue we will have to solve in time. In conclusion, you are not the perfect choices but ones I am willing to make." "Uh?" "You are hired." Suddenly a small light grey rat jumped onto James'' body and began to climb, its claws digging into his shadowy flesh until it reached his shoulder. Barry and Larry noticed it had been carrying something in its mouth, something it dropped into James'' awaiting tentacle. "Thank you, Lucille. You two, as you are now officially in my employ, there are a few problems we need to deal with. First off, here is a little bonus, to welcome you." James extended his tentacle toward Barry, hanging in the air for a few seconds as the small man gathered the courage to touch it to take the item James was giving him, only for his eyes to widen as he finally got a proper look at the thing: a 500 Xerins ticket. "Again, think of it as a welcoming gift. Use it to clean up your debts, buy some proper equipment, and the likes. If you are going to be working for me, I need respectable minions, are we clear?" ""Yes sir!"" "Good. Now, show me from where you came, we''ll define this entrance as our current meet-up point. Come back tomorrow so that you may fill me in on everything I need to know about the current events of the slums, and then come report whenever something important happens. If you do a good enough job I may reward you with your own enhanced phone." "Enhanced?" "That''ll be awesome, sir!" "Yes, yes, now let us get going. You probably don''t want to still be present once the tunnels go back to normal, unless you wish to meet with giant spiders for some reason." "R-Right away sir!" "By the way sir, what''s your name?" "Ah, there is no need for you to bother yourselves with my name yet, is there?" And I have absolutely no idea of a good alias right now. "R-Right, sir." "This is going to be so awesome Barry!" And so James earned his first two legitimate minions, without having any idea of how many would follow in the future or even what would happen to this weird duo that he met and saved by chance. Chapter 21: Going on their ways James had a lot of things to think about on the way home. He didn''t bother changing back into a more appropriate or effective form for transport, sticking to having a humanoid silhouette with a couple of tentacles to drag the bodies of his latest kills behind him. He knew there was no denying he was no longer human, especially after his fight with the two monsters that would have easily crushed him had he met either one of them before... This. But knowing he wasn''t human anymore and accepting to live with it was not the same as embracing it. He still had attachments to his old body, a perfectly reasonable and understandable behavior considering the fact he had still been human a few... Days? Weeks? He wasn''t sure, staying underground for so long had completely ruined his perception of time, but he could tell the change was still recent. He hoped. So far he had always been keeping himself busy one way or another, trying to figure out how everything worked, exploring the tunnels, taking care of a small litter of rats, chatting online with strangers, training for combat despite never doing anything like that in his life, stealing from gangs... A big part of it had been legitimately necessary, even vital at some points, but at the same time, he couldn''t deny it had helped set back the inevitable moment he would need to ponder about a few less... Pleasant thoughts. He remembered dying, so he had probably been reincarnated, but how? And why? Was it some cosmic fluke? Had some force decided he would be a good fit for some kind of plan? Was he a dark lord''s scheme to create a diversion and enable them to fulfill their evil scheme? In fact, was he sure those memories of his death were real and not implanted there to convince him going back to his world was impossible? Was going back to his world impossible? Was it truly his world? What if he was just an artificial shell that had been gifted the memories of a dead man to speed up its education? What was this body he now inhabited, where had it come from? Did anything matter? Hey, meeting people! That was nice. No existential dread in that line of thought. Encountering actual human beings this early on had been unexpected and considering James hadn''t had the time to properly plan out what to say and do it had gone surprisingly well. Larry and Barry had been friendly enough when they weren''t terrorized by James'' acting, wording, or their own past traumas. Their little deal benefited everyone, they got money to clean off their debts and have fun while he got a couple of agents on the surface, people who would buy things he needed and give him the latest info only available in the streets. All in all, it had been a pretty good thing. But I''m seriously worried about this world''s average IQ. Is it lower overall, is the average guy dumber to compensate for every mad genius out there, or am I just unlucky and ended up reincarnating in one of the worst parts of the world? Judging by the whole slums thing and the disturbingly high number of apex predators in sewers still being actively used, it''s got to be the last one. At least I hope so, for this world''s inhabitants'' safety. James shuddered at the thought, if a city with monsters in its sewers and slums was the average - or worse, the upper-end of things - then this world might very well be doomed. This would fit in with the whole Heroes and Villains theme, the world would constantly be on the verge of destruction and would only still be holding together thanks to a little group of determined, hard-working, and stupidly lucky people. Balance would still exist but instead of a majority of neutrality with some good and bad here and there, it would be extremely good against overall bad. It works, but at what cost? James stopped advancing and took the time to take in a deep breath before slapping himself with a tentacle. No. Bad James. You''re being pessimistic again. I''m probably in a bad area or a bad era. Maybe the average person is stronger to compensate and these monsters were just stronger than normal. Yeah, that''s probably it. Everything is stronger overall and those were just really bad pests. Yes, it must be that. Having finished easing his concerns, James resumed his walk home. Ignoring all of the implications and existential dread linked to this ordeal, his two new employees offered a brand new world of possibilities. He would be able to buy actual furniture, including stuff for the ratlings, get a TV to catch the news - and maybe watch the local entertainment, for research purposes of course - and even... Even... When he thought about it, luxuries were really the only thing he needed. He didn''t pay taxes, didn''t need to eat or drink and the ratlings could handle their alimentation on their own. The lack of light didn''t bother any of them and installing plumbing was ironically impossible to do down in the sewers, at least not without a professional''s help - and the chances of a plumber being willing to install an illegal system in the sewers just because a shadow man paid him seemed low. No, surely he''d find a way to use his money and have a list of things to buy. Living with the bare minimum may have impacted what he considered truly useful but the little things were still there. Plus, if there''s one thing he knew about money, it was that as soon as you had it there suddenly were a lot of things to spend it on, whether you wanted to or not. But, as invested in his stray thoughts as he was, James still took care to pay attention to his surroundings - which is why he sensed something was wrong. Following the Titaroach and the Matoador''s deaths silence had spread, their respective minions scattering and fleeing for their lives, no longer emboldened by their rulers. James was sure this silence would have lasted a while and ended with the feasting of scavengers. And yet, it wasn''t them who were the first to act. The pitty-patter of dozens of little feet echoed in the tunnels, sounds that may have gone unnoticed had they not been this numerous, always moving to stay hidden while sticking to him. He had yet to see his little stalkers but he had spent enough time in this world to recognize to which animal these stealthy steps belonged. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Hence, it was with no surprise that James took in the sight of dozens of rats standing in his ways. Why did I think killing two apex predators would resolve all of my problems? Of course, something else would be up immediately after. Of. Course.
Larry and Barry looked around as they climbed back up from an abandoned manhole in an old and dark one-way alley, the difference between the two''s heights large enough for the both of them to stick their heads out at the same time despite there only being one ladder. They scrutinized each and every point of the alley, paying close attention to any minuscule detail that might have changed since they went down. Every crack in the grey pavement - actually more cracks and holes leading to black stone than actual pavement at this point - was at the same place, the piles of useless junks and rotting trash laying against the wall opposite from the alley''s entrance, leading directly to another dark alley. The entrance hadn''t changed as well, still small and too tight for a person to walk through from the front, and only a small trickle of light made its way in between the impromptu platforms that had been built out of wood, metal scraps, and cloth between all of the surrounding buildings. The small puddle of greenish water or whatever chemical someone had spilled was still there, the various spider webs they had broken when coming in were already getting fixed, the small arachnids not even pausing in their work from the noise Larry and Barry had made when coming up, the only thing slowing their craftsmanship being the occasional intimidation fight when two spiders got too close to one another. This was good news. It meant nothing had scared them away while they were gone. "All clear?" "All clear." James might have been surprised at how professional the two ruffians he had taken for bumbling idiots were as they finally left the sewers and closed the manhole behind them, but ultimately this behavior had a simple explanation: life in the slums was hard. At least, when you weren''t in one of the main hubs. "Any funny smell?" "Uhm, only vanilla and strawberry. Definitely Sweet Pete." Barry nodded. The baker-turned-Vigilante liked to patrol in this area of the slums, walking along on the platforms between the rooftops, as useless as he was. The man wasn''t weak by any means but his sugary powers were pretty useless compared to the kind of things that the real Villains and their goons could do. A guy wearing a red jacket and beating people up with a crowbar was one thing, a Draskian cyborg able to melt down Mecha Man''s creations was another. "Good. No chocolate?" "None." Sweet Pete might have been a Vigilante but he wasn''t the only sugar or pastry-based Super around. Napolitan Bonapp¨¦tit may sound like a silly Villain - and honestly, he was - but it wasn''t as funny when you were suddenly being gunned down by an army of ice cream soldiers, and even though their bullets were only chocolate chips they were just as effective as real ones, maybe even more so. "Oh, could we go visit him? He''s always so nice, we could finally buy one of his treats for real!" "First we''ll go to the bank and clean our debts. Then we buy essential stuff. If there''s enough left to live for a week or two, then we can consider treats." "Oooh, shoot!" Barry rolled his eyes. Five hundred Xerins was a lot of money. As in, enough to clear off most of their debts, or at least all of the really important ones. They''d finally be able to buy stuff from old Kurg''s place again, to travel along the Angels'' paths and get proper gadgets from Meinkreft. Oh, how many nights had he dreamt of that sweet, sweet metal detector? They''d also be able to finally fix their place. Invest in some actual locks, get some gas and electricity in... "By the Nine, that thing is a godsend." "He really was nice, wasn''t he? What do you think he''ll ask us to buy?" Larry''s remark pulled Barry out of his reverie. The money they had gotten today hadn''t just popped up in his hands, after all, someone had given it to him. Something that almost killed them. Something that he had promised to work for. "It... was really something else. I don''t think I''ve seen something like that before." "Me neither. He didn''t even have a smell." "Wait, he didn''t? How could you tell? I thought the water down there blocked you?" Well, to be more accurate, Larry had subconsciously shut off his sense of smell to avoid being overloaded by the smells down in the sewers, his feeble mind being too weak to handle most of the stuff down there. "On the way out. When we were in the disaffected parts." Places were the sewers had stopped running, even in the slums. Places that weren''t infested with creepy crawlies or contaminated by a constant flow of sewage. "No smell? That''s a first." And it terrorized Barry. Even that one time they had been stalked by a vampiric fly there had been a scent, something that allowed Larry to notice the danger and give the two enough of a warning to run away. Yes, there were more and more reasons for them to never return and break off their promise to the weird thing they had encountered. And yet... "Guess we''ll see what it wants next time we come." The thing was offering them way too much money to just shrug it off. As much as he disliked it Barry knew obeying that weird monster''s orders was the best course of action to follow. At least they''d be getting money out of the situation. He really hoped they hadn''t terminated their bank account, even if it wasn''t in the Black Bank''s usual practices to do so. Hell, there were rumors they still kept the vaults of some of the original clients of the place, most of them having died at least a couple centuries ago. Finally having money to put in it just slightly stressed him. At least it''d be safe there, no one was stupid enough to attack the Black Bank. Even the big Three and the Angels respected the place''s neutrality policy, and no one had tried to steal from it in ages - there always were a couple of guys desperate enough to try, but the last real attempt had taken place when he was still a kid. "By the way, do you think it''s him?" Barry had to make a double-take, that question appearing out of nowhere. At least he was somewhat used to this kind of thing after living with Larry for so long. "Who?" "You know, Nat-" In a blink of an eye Barry had put his hand over Larry''s mouth. "Are you mad?! Don''t. Say. His. Name." Larry quickly nodded, at least as well as he could with a hand gripped tight over his mouth. Seeing that Larry understood his message Barry released him. "Why do you even think it''s him? It doesn''t make any sense" "Well, he wants to stay secret, he doesn''t know much about what''s around here and he had money." "Larry, any Villain or Vigilante worth their salt wants to stay hidden at first, the guy you''re thinking about was strong enough not to care about stealth at all, he knew more about this city than everyone else put together and money doesn''t mean anything! For all we know he could just have stolen it!" "Things change in thirty years. He probably had tons of caches. And maybe he''s weak now, after coming back from where he was trapped?" "It''s a load of ballooney. The guy''s dead and that''s it, end of the story. Our new boss is a completely different guy." "Uhm... If you say so..." Barry released a sigh, as much as he loved his brother there were times where he was just too much, even without his own anger issues. Like that stupid theory. How could that thing in the sewers be the same as Zalcien''s most powerful Super? Plus, how and why would he even come back after thirty years of nothing? No, Natrashka was dead and that was it. Chapter 22: Encounters In a random alley in Zalcien''s slums, an odd yet usual scene was taking place. Between decaying walls of grey, yellow, and green, each and every one of them covered in some form of moss, parasitic plant, or the occasional mound of pulsing flesh, stood a group of six people. Or rather, a group of five and a singular person. The odd one out was pretty easy to notice: the frogman''s smaller stature, his muddy rags, and his green skin clearly contrasted with the five other''s black leather attire, their full bodysuit giving them a punkish look further enhanced by their black scarfs around their mouths, their aviator''s helmet and glasses and the overall overuse of small spikes on their clothes. Well, there was one exception. Whereas the other four''s costumes left their identity secret and gave them a more androgynous look, the fifth had a few modifications. She was clearly a human woman, her head being totally uncovered, unlike her comrades, letting her long red hair flutter slightly in the small amount of wind that made it through this part of the slums. While black was still the primary color of her suit she had a few red streaks here and there, including a small design that looked like a crudely painted rose on her chest. That very same woman was currently displaying a grin as she talked to the small amphibian man before her. "I''m afraid you''re missing the point here, buddy. You owe us your life, ya know?" "What?! N-no! You''re just threatening me!" The woman snickered while the four people accompanying her stayed perfectly motionless behind her, their sight completely locked onto the small shivering green Cored they were clearly mugging. "Oh, ''threatening'' is a big, mean word. No, we''re just teaching you how things work around here: we kick the bad guys out of here and you pay us as a thank you. If you don''t pay, well... Accidents happen, ya know?" "But I didn''t ask anything!" She scoffed. "Neither do you ask for the air you breathe, yet you still need it, ya know? So pay up or me and my friends will have to go through another round of laundry, and blood is a nightmare to get out of my hair and their scarfs, ya know?" "Leave them alone!" All six people turned to their right - or rather to his left for the frogman - and took in quite the sight. A teenager, judging by his height and voice, covered in white cybernetic armor, emitting flashes of blue light here and there. While the four identical henchmen stayed motionless, the woman flinched, fear reaching her eyes for a few seconds before she took in the time to get a better look at the armor and noticed a few quirks. The helmet, which she had thought to be a simple white smooth surface leaving a pair of openings on the side to reveal black mechanical parts, was actually much rougher than at first glance. The "mechanical parts" were in truth headphones, what had seemed like metal was only plastic and the part covering the eyes was only a small veil. Such little details appeared everywhere on the suit, in fact, even the materials'' whiteness seemed fake, the woman realizing all of it had been simply painted over. In short, this "armor" was only a bunch of pieces of junk strapped together with a few pretty lights here and there to look more real. To think she had even been worried for a second there. "Oh? Some kiddo wanna play hero? Looks like you''ll get to have some fun today, boys!" ""Ah!"" The four men shouted at once to answer her, their voices being eerily similar and in sync. At once they began to move, walking toward the teen like a singular entity and getting ready to fight. "I''m not a kid! I am Techlord!" Techlord jumped high in the air, much higher than a normal person should be able to, and dropkicked one of the four masked henchmen, sending him directly into a wall that he impacted at high-velocity judging by the thundering crash that followed. The other three henchmen looked at their comrade, his body halfway through the wall he had just been launched into, before turning their gaze to the small thing that had done such an act. Even the woman and the frogman couldn''t stop their jaws from dropping. Sure, that wasn''t the most impressive thing any of the persons present had ever seen but considering the attack came from what looked like a kid playing pretend with his DIY Halloween costume it was still worth a raised eyebrow or two, even more with the surprise factor. Techlord rushed onto another henchman, raising a fist that began emitting small blue sparks before quickly punching the henchman in the face, or at least trying to. The man caught the teen''s fist with his own before it suddenly began to release large amounts of electricity into the man even through his leather suit, his body beginning to shake and fume before he let go of the teen''s hand and fell on the ground without a sound. The last two henchmen looked at each other before nodding and sprinting on each side of their opponent, each one pulling out a black smooth dagger from a hidden pocket on their side and throwing it at Techlord''s head, the white armored vigilante immediately pounding on his chest with his right hand, making his headphones release a burst of kinetic energy each, repulsing the daggers back at the men who quickly found themselves with a blade embedded in their chests. Unfazed, Techlord aimed his attention back to the woman who, for some reason, was still grinning despite her companions'' defeat. "Not bad, kiddo. Not bad at all. Sadly for you, we have a job to do, ya know? Boys, let''s have a blast!" She snapped her fingers and suddenly all of the fallen men got back up, one still covered in rocky debris, the second still fuming and the last two taking the blades out of their chests. "What the-" Techlord''s eyes widened behind his improvised helmet and he dove to the ground, not bothering to finish his sentence as the woman who so far had done nothing unleashed a geyser of flames right where his head had been a few seconds ago. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Before he even had the time to get back up the four henchmen were already on him, the fuming one kicking him up into the air while the two stabbed ones punched him at the same time, one in the back and the other in the torso, stopping his fall in time for the dusty one to dropkick him into a wall. As his back impacted the wall, Techlord couldn''t help but let out a cry. His DIY had proven to be surprisingly resistant, barely affected by the last few attacks, but the same couldn''t be said for his body. This was the main weakness of this kind of armor, they didn''t offer much in terms of defense against blunt damage. Stunned as he was by the hit, the teen tried to get up to keep on fighting - something that only resulted in failure. He couldn''t move, stuck sitting against the wall as his hazy vision grew clearer and clearer, letting him see how quickly the man he had tried to save cowardly fled away from the scene now that the thugs'' attention was on him. He was almost strong enough to straighten up when he saw a fireball forming in the woman''s hand. Is this how it was going to end? His first attempt at doing good thwarted without a drop of sweat being shed, without really making a difference? As he closed his eyes to save himself the pain of looking directly at his death, he heard a voice. "Stop!" He opened his eyes to find a weird tall and lanky man standing between him and the woman, the fireball in her hand disappearing as another much shorter and stouter man joined the first one, looking furious and dragging the other''s head at his level by the goatee and quickly whispering into his ear. "Hmm? And who are you two? The sidekicks? A bit late, don''t you think?" The two men stopped their intense whispering and immediately turned toward the woman, the smaller one of the two stepping forward as he began to speak. "Oh no, we don''t want to fight." "We''d get crushed." "Larr- Look, just let the kid go. He''s not a threat. What can he do against you? Plus, I''m sure it''s just some phase. If he knows what''s good for him, he''ll stop playing Hero from now on." The woman raised an eyebrow before rubbing her chin. "Hmm... But I need to make a profit here, ya know? He cost us some of our precious time and because of him our target has fled." The two gulped, the tall one checking on his companion as he began to point to himself, the small one quickly shook his head in response before nervously looking around for something, anything they could take advantage of. "Then you can... You can... Why not just take his armor? He''d be defenseless and I''m sure you''d get a few bucks from it at the right place." "Hmm..." The woman spent a few more seconds rubbing her chin before shrugging. "Ya know what? Fine. Next time you won''t go off so easily, though. But hey, if you ever get tired of playing the goody-two-shoes, Wicked Witchcraft is always looking for more henchmen, ya know? Tell them Rose sent you! Ciao ciao!" ""Ciao ciao!"" At that, the woman and her henchmen simply turned around and walked away, leaving a flabbergasted duo of men and an injured teen. Once the group was out of sight and earshot, Barry was the first to speak. "Did they just forget to take the armor?" Barry''s question went unnoticed by the two people next to him, as Larry was much too focused on the kid''s health and the teen himself still too stunned to really take in what the man said. "Are you ok? Do you need to see a doc?" "I''m... Fine..." "I need to take off your armor to get a better look-" "No! No... I''m... Keeping it..." "Fine, fine." "Larry, what were you thinking?! You know better than to get involved in Super stuff!" "It''s a kid, Barry, I couldn''t let them kill him." "Not... A kid..." "You''re lucky this one was dumb, Larry. They could have killed you." "They didn''t." Barry watched as his brother checked on the armored teen lying on the ground and sighed. "Fine, we''re taking him to Pete''s place but after that, he''s on his own. We still have to go to the Black Bank afterward." "Thanks, Barry!" Hopefully, they wouldn''t have to deal with any other interruption on their way there. The Black Bank and its surroundings were safe, like Pete''s place, but they were still a few labyrinthic alleys to pass to get there. At least they were lucky enough to live near the border to the main city, although the guards didn''t care much about the lives of the locals killing most of the really threatening monsters was their job. A shiver went down his spine as Barry recalled a few stories he had heard about the things at the heart of the slums. Things dangerous enough that the various Villains and the Union had an agreement to monitor and bombard the zone if anything ever appeared and got out of hand. They were rumors that even some of the big shots like The Empress or Sunburn didn''t dare approach the very center of the place. That it was haunted by some monster that would have destroyed Zalcien years ago had it not been stuck there. But those were just rumors, right?
You know, at the rate things are going, I may begin to think I should have had rat powers instead of shadow ones. Right in front of James - and slightly behind him and to the sides, probably an attempt to encircle him - was a group made out of dozens of rats. Some were small, some were big, but overall most were skinny adults. Their colors went from brown to grey, though they tended to be on the darker side of things. Some of the rats were sitting on their haunches and silently staring at him, others were hissing and getting ready to pounce, and others were fidgeting, ready to flee at a moment''s notice. One thing they all had in common though was their glances toward something at the center of the pack, where most rats were. An old specimen, grey fur so light it might as well have been a dirty white, a small tuft of hair to the bottom of its snout that made it look like an old bearded man and with a missing left front paw. The ancient began to walk, slowly and with difficulty, much to the surrounding rats'' worry, until he was at James'' feet - foot, technically, but he wasn''t sure if what he had going on was even a foot or a pseudopod or a tail or one these wispy things ghosts and genies had in fiction - and looked up to the shadowy man''s faceless head. "Squeak." "I am sorry to say that I do not understand squeaking." "Squeak?" "Well, contextual clues are a thing, but I''m guessing you have a speech prepared, a speech I cannot understand." "Squeak..." The elderly rat took a second to think before bowing, the rest of the pack quickly imitating him, no matter their actual feelings on the situation. "Oh, I see. Yes, this is perfectly understandable. I''m guessing the presence of those two monsters impacted the life of your pack?" "Squeak." "And, since I put an end to their little war, you wish to serve me as thanks?" "Squeak?" "Ah, not serve, but join my pack." "Squeak." "Well, I''m afraid that I do not truly have a pack. "Squeak?" "Those five are children that I am raising, not a pack in the making." "Squeak." "Listen, enjoy your newfound freedom from the tyranny of toads and cockroaches for now. If I ever require your services or desire to form some kind of pack I will contact you." "Squeak!" A young rat had just interrupted the discussion, probably angered by James'' dismissal of their leader''s proposition if he had to guess. "I do not care. You lived until now with major threats around, you will do fine now that they are gone. Do not give me orders." "Squeak!" "Squeak." "S-Squeak!" "Squeak." "Squeak..." The elderly rat bowed once more before ordering the group to part, letting James and his loot through. Many small beady eyes looked at his back as he left, some saddened, some mad, some uncaring, and some satisfied. The elderly rat''s gaze held the longest before looking away, letting out a small disappointed sigh before guiding his pack home. Sorry everyone, but I already have five kids to worry about. I don''t have the space nor the time to deal with all of you.
Finally, James reached his home in the sewers, leaving the two massive carcasses he had been dragging up until now on the side, the corpses being too large to fit through the entrance, and got ready to finally have some time to relax in the lair. "Hey kids, I''m home!" "Father." "Dad!" "Papa!" "Daddy!" "Old man." Oh boy. Chapter 23 : To be a father Back in his lair, James looked down at the five adorable little rats that had just talked in adorable little squeaky voices, and oh god since when could they do that how in the- "Daddy, fine?" James focused on the lovely little cinnamon roll that was Goliath, towering over his siblings and yet doing the biggest puppy eyes James had ever seen in all of his lives. "Ah, yes, thank you, Goliath. I... I''m just surprised. You can talk now. Whoa. Since when?" Lucille was quick to answer, sensing her father''s confusion and slight nervousness. "Not long. While gone." "Ah, I see. Uhm, I assume you are having some troubles speaking?" Or maybe they just like speaking in broken speech or it''s the result of some rat-accent. Who am I to judge? Once more Goliath was quick to answer, dismissing James'' doubts. "Big words hard!" Lucille let a small frown appear on her snout before following up. "Sentences too." Foudre nodded before adding in her own difficulties. "Verbs complicated." Blanche spoke next, apparently disheartened to be unable to speak properly. "Proper grammar confusing..." And finally, whereas his siblings all had a very valid and technical reason to have difficulties with their oral skills, David, his forepaws crossed on his chest, resumed his to a single word. "Boring." "..." "..." "..." Disregarding David, the rest of them seemed really troubled by their inability to hold a proper conversation. James pondered for a second on how to make them feel better when he realized something. "I see, I see. I mean, for people who didn''t know how to articulate a single letter yesterday you are doing a wonderful job, you know." There were not enough words in James'' vocabulary to describe how quickly and powerfully the four little ones went from gloom and disappointment to sheer unfettered joy. He was pretty sure rats were not supposed to be able to have such complex facial expressions. Well, they weren''t supposed to talk either, and yet here they were. "Yeeeah!" Foudre and Lucille just smiled at their brother''s antics while Blanche adorned a smug grin and threw back the fur at the back of her head - which was definitely longer than before, by the way, almost like hair. "Natural." David did not share his siblings'' positivity. "Or people stupid." "..." "David, we really have to do something about your attitude." David scoffed. "No attitude." "Yes attitude." David turned around and glared at Lucille while Foudre nodded along, confirming her sister''s diagnosis. "Hm-hm, very attitude." Blanche smirked before she added her own remark. "Stupid David." David, to this insult of the greater kind, only had one response, a counterattack known to all for its fearsome efficiency. "You stupid." "You stupid!" "YOU STUPID!" "Kids, stop. No one here is stupid." "Yes, papa." "Fine." "By the way, I must ask... Why do you all think of me as your father?" At that, multiple eyebrows were raised, including David''s. "Because... daddy is daddy?" "Kids, I..." James sighed as he slouched down. "You do know that I''m not your real father, right? You should remember that, at your age." They all nodded at that, Lucille speaking for them all. "First father and mother. Fought spider. Died. Remember." The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Then, you know I''m just looking after you, right?" Foudre nodded along despite a confused expression adorning her snout, not understanding what James was trying to imply. "Like dad." James couldn''t help but flinch at the word. "I''m more of a caretaker than a dad, I think." At that, Goliath understood something. "Daddy... No want us...?" They all felt their heart miss a beat at that, especially James - despite not having a heart. Each tear that flowed down Goliath''s snout hurt his very soul, and he quickly realized unease spread through the rest of the ratlings. "No no Goliath, that''s not what I said! It''s just... I don''t think you should see me as your father." The ratlings were clearly not comforted by his words, and James did not doubt that very soon Goliath wouldn''t be the only one crying. "Old man scared?" James had to do a double-take at that before focusing on David. The small young rat didn''t seem to share the same panic or fear of rejection his siblings did. James didn''t know how to answer, taking the time to think of different possible ways to explain himself in the best way possible before he cut himself short with an instinctual answer. "Yes, David. Yes I am." All of the ratlings were surprised at that. He had been their beacon of hope, their defender, the unmovable object and unstoppable force that had protected their home, saved their lives, and defeated terrific foes on his own, and yet... And yet here he was, saying he was scared. "Look, you know I was human before I became... This. I don''t know how long it''s been since I ended up here but it''s still recent, a month at most, and even then I think that''s stretching it. Do you know how old I was? Twenty-two. I was barely a young adult, at this age humans can be adults but their kids are babies, they don''t have developed minds as you do. I''m too young to have kids." Goliath, still crying, couldn''t understand. "But... Daddy is daddy..." David had his own take on the matter. "Coward." His looks could kill, then Lucille''s death stare might have very well opened a hole in the fabric of time and space. "David." He continued, completely disregarding his sister''s slowly rising bloodlust. "You scared. You flee from frights. Flee from problems." "David." "You beat insect. You beat toad. Why flee humans? Why stay down?" He had very good reasons to prefer flight to fight, very good reasons to stay hidden, reasons he would have absolutely no trouble listing- "I-" "You scared go up. Afraid." "A perfectly reasonable-" "You strong. Why think weak?" "Because I''m not strong. You saw the kind of things up there that Captain Cyan fought didn''t you?" "Captain Hero. People no fight. You want people. You not Hero." That... Was admittedly a pretty good argument. "I..." "Mind weak, afraid. Body strong, confident. Body fought for home. Think with body, not head." Again, James couldn''t deny he had been the one who proposed to go fight the two local sewer lords to put an end to the ambient pandemonium their war had wrought. "David..." "Strong, predator, but no attack. Why?" Why... James sighed before sitting down on the ground, holding his head with a pair of tentacles. "David, you are a child. A rat child. You know nothing of life, of the things humanity is capable of when scared, angry, confused, or faced with the unknown. You have no idea what it is like to take care of you. You think I am strong? You think I can handle myself up there? Let me tell you one thing: the last time I was on the surface, I died." The rest of the ratlings shared a collective gasp - James may have told them he was human before but never how he became what he was today. "Someone stabbed me, just in the hope I had something they could steal, and then left me for dead, lying on the ground, my blood flowing out of my body, warmth, and coherent thoughts leaving me as the cold embrace of death grew closer and finally snatched me up, until for some reason it dropped me off here like this!" He didn''t know when but it appeared that at some point during his ranting he had gotten up and was gesturing wildly at himself. "And this, David, was a guy with a knife. That was enough to kill me. And even if my world didn''t have Cores and Supers, we had things that could do similar stuff. Things that wiped out cities. Hell, we only had one sapient species and yet we still found ways to hate each other for the most ridiculous of things!" The ratlings didn''t know how to react to that. Sure, they had seen humanity do bad things in Captain Cyan, but that was a TV show aimed at children, things were often glossed over or only implied and even then there always were Heroes to save the day. They never thought that maybe things worked the same up there as they did underground. "What do you think would happen here? I, some unknown shadow monster, and you, a handful of intelligent rats. We wouldn''t have a chance up there. Not now." If we wait a few years and contact the press first, then maybe we''ll have a chance at a normal life in some mutant-only facility or something. Maybe a not-evil-but-too-creepy-to-be-a-functioning-member-of-society residential area? "Barry. Larry. Weak, yet surface. Live. Faced fear." "They survived because they grew up in this world. As for them coming down here, that was plain stupidity. Idiocy doesn''t help anyone." "Courage." "There is a difference between facing your fears and ignoring all safety protocols and your survival instincts." "But lived!" "Because I was there!" "Heroes there!" "NO ONE WAS THERE FOR ME!" They all flinched at his outburst. Even James himself was caught off-guard. Hell, he didn''t have any lung or respiration system, and yet here he was, feeling out of breath with his chest inflating and deflating in an obvious manner. He had to take a few seconds to calm down before he spoke once more. "No one was there for me, David... I died afraid and alone. You were lucky to have me, like those two idiots were, but I won''t have this luck. Besides, the only thing up there is the slums. We''d have to explore more of the sewers to find an exit leading to the good parts of the city and we don''t know what kind of monsters are roaming through those tunnels." "We there for you." He had no idea how to respond to that, even less coming from David. "You are children, David. I can''t just dump all of my worries and stress on you. You are a pretty big part of my worries and stress." "Family. Pack." "We..." We''re not a family, David. I''m not. You five should never have been under my care, you should be with other rats, you should- Be with other rats. Pack. "If... If you wish, there is a rat pack who approached me not so long ago." All of their ears perked up at that. "You could, with other rats, form a true pack and-" "No." "No." "No!" "No!" "No." "You... Are you sure? You could be with others of your kind and-" "Pack not kind." "Pack is family." "Family is us." "Daddy is family!" "We stay. Your problem." "You... You..." And here they stood, five young rats and their somewhat human caretaker, neither side daring to move... Until they all rushed into each other''s arms and forepaws and shared a big hug. "I''m sorry. I''m just... I just want you to have a good home." "Big home!" "Much food!" "Protection." "Kill stuff." "Family! Us! You!" And so James embraced his fatherly duties as he embraced those five adorable little furballs, holding those pure, innocent children- "Go kill stuff now?" -those cute and wild children, realizing that maybe, just maybe, he could be a good dad. One that would raise them correctly and who knows, maybe he could even help them become Heroes. What a silly thought. "You know what? Fine. I''ll be your dad. The best dad these sewers will have ever seen." "Daddy is best daddy!" James chuckled as he formed a limb to pet Goliath''s head, making sure to form a pair of small pointy appendages to scratch him behind the ears and, judging by the thumping paw and his siblings'' jealous stares, James was apparently doing something very right. It didn''t take long for four new tentacles to form and begin petting and scratching the rest of the ratlings, Lucille taking care to keep a certain decorum whereas David was doing his best not to show any form of enjoyment. Seeing them like that, James thought that maybe being a dad wouldn''t be so bad. Chapter 24 : The things lurking in the dark Silence. Sweet, marvelous silence. Perfect. Wonderful. Silent. "-and then I said, ''Pay you? What''s next, paying toasters?'' Ah!" Noisy. Annoying. Who dared disturb the sanctity of silence? "Those robots are really getting on my nerves. You''re a machine, just do your job!" A lone human male. A young one, old enough to be considered an adult but not by much. Those always were the noisiest. "Yeah yeah, I know. But why does she even care so much?" He walked while talking loudly to his hand with one of those weird lighting sticks in the other, uncaring to the beauty of the park at night, the serenity of the light wind flowing silently and caressing the body in such a relaxing manner, the glory of how the stars lit up the darkness above without the obnoxious humming that all of these stupid light trees the humans had put near the paths emitted. "Really? God, I knew she was weird but to go out with one? Still worth it, though." Yes, totally oblivious to the beauty of a silent night in the park. But why was he here? Why did he go out of his way to ruin its perfect night? It had taken care to choose a spot in the middle of nowhere, a place that no one visited during the daytime, a small cluster of old dark twisted trees on the fringes of the park, far away from all the paths. "Nah, don''t worry, I''m not driving. My stupid car broke down and I''m taking a shortcut through Gaia''s Palm, the old haunted woods part. What, you''re afraid of ghosts? There''s nothing there." Ah, one of those. It did not know how they worked but it knew humans used them to move outside of the park and that they were noisy. Finding a spot far from the humans in the park yet still spared from the constant roaring and roaring of the roads had been hard, but it had managed. Well, maybe not so well considering its obnoxious guest. At least the human would be gone soon and it would enjoy its peace and quiet once more- "Nothing, I swear! Here, I''ll prove it. YO! ANYONE OUT THERE?!" He would leave very soon. He would leave very soon. He would- "See? I yelled a bunch and nothing. No spooky monster to snatch me up." Yes. Yesss. His stupid bravery ritual was over and he would leave and it would finally be able to enjoy the pleasures of silence and tranquility and- "Ya know what? I think we should throw a party there. No, I''m serious, no one to call the cops, great spooky woods for horror-themed stuff..." A party? Ok, that was it, no drunk teens would spread their stupidly loud music in its park! The owl jumped out of the hole in the tree it had made its home and spread its wings, quickly flying up in the midnight sky and getting ready to dive onto the little brat that had dared disturb the peace of its home to give him a scare and chase him off. Then something snatched it up mid-air.
"I hate you, Adam." "Oh, I love you too Francis. Not as much as Annie, though." His friend''s grunt on the other end of the phone brought a smile to Adam''s face. Sure, he was still bummed out that his brand new sports car had already broken down but hey, guess that''s what happens when you buy stuff from shady Draskian dealers and at least it was cheap, but this little detour in one of the park''s less-visited areas was rather nice. It reminded him of his emo phase, not that he''d ever admit that he went through one. That was a secret he would take to the grave. And despite scaredy-cat Francis'' complaints, Adam genuinely thought the place would make an awesome staging ground for a giant party with all of their friends, maybe a few hundreds of strangers too. He liked his parties populated, to say the least. Yes, he could already see it, there they would put the speakers, here the DJ''s stuff, a few spotlights between the old trees'' branches, maybe a few plastic pumpkins and bats... Yes, he could already see it, the buzz on his social media, how all the students would talk about his awesome autumn party for years after he graduated, how everyone would get stupidly drunk... And again, no cops or nosy neighbors to tell them to shut everything down. God, you make one super party for your birthday and suddenly you had a cop car permanently parked in front of your house every year. "So, still want to go after Annie?" "Sure. It''s weird, but a robot-lover isn''t the worse thing." Besides it would be a one-time fling, he wasn''t in for her great personality after all. Everyone had a crush on Annie, as much as she disliked it. Who could not? Her short ginger hair, her petite stature, the way her green eyes shined in the light, and the small dark freckles on her pale skin... She was undeniably an eight out of ten, at least. Too bad she was so obsessed with that whole "robot rights" thing. But hey, he had dated with worse. "Your funeral, dude. By the way, you heard about Firmin?" Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. "No, what happened?" "That''s the thing, no one knows. He went star watching and just up and vanished last night." "Really? He doesn''t seem like the type." "I know, and that''s why everyone''s worried. Kris thinks it could be one of the Empress'' spider things." "Nah, the Heroes wouldn''t let one of the really dangerous ones into the city." "I''m not sure. There always are a couple of victims before they notice and stop a bad guy." "Meh, I''m not worried. He probably saw a meteorite or something and went to look for it." "Considering some of the alien stuff the Union deals with, that''s not much better." Adam was about to reply when he felt like something was off. He looked around, making a few swipes with his flashlight, but didn''t notice anything. No one behind him, no one ahead, nothing hidden behind the trees, no mysterious second set of footprints... Wait. Was that... Were those... Were those feathers falling from the sky? Adam looked up but again, there was nothing weird going on. No bird that could have dropped those feathers, nothing that could have had a hold of them... This... Was getting weird. "Adam? Something''s wrong?" "No, it''s... I just saw a bunch of feathers fall out of nowhere." "Don''t scare me like that, bro. It''s probably just an owl snatching up another bird." "Yeah, you''re right. I just got surprised is all." "Who''s afraid of ghosts now?" "Oh shut up Francis." Then he heard it. Some kind of suffocated screeching quickly ended by a quiet crunch, nearly silent and yet still far too loud in this silent night. Adam looked up again and this time, this time he saw exactly what had made that noise. He wished he didn''t. It was big, bigger than a car, and yet it looked so thin. It was incredibly wide, its pale turquoise body mostly made up of a pair of... Wings? Fins? Flippers? Membranous masses? It reminded him of a ray, a bat, and a jellyfish mixed into one in a twisted yet beautiful way, floating so easily in the sky without a care... Its wings seemed incredibly flexible and prehensile, considering the fact they were currently enveloping its own body like they were some kind of blanket, letting Adam see how weird its skin was. It wasn''t hide, there was no fur or scales, it just had a small luster, like a baby''s smooth wet skin. He didn''t see any kind of head, instead, they were small purple gems encrusted along its spine, its long wing-things so long they appeared to be attached to the tail - unless it had no tail and instead a singular wing that took most of its body mass? Adam didn''t pay attention during classes but he had never heard of anything like that. And there, in gaps between the wings and the body in the creature''s self-blanketing, he saw the reason why he had failed to notice it. The underside of its body was the night. Looking at it was like looking through a window like the creature wasn''t even there. When its body moved, the stars didn''t. It was mesmerizing. And then there was the blood. It didn''t last long, it was like it was being absorbed by the blue skin and the vastness of space attached underneath, but he had seen it, along with the occasional feather falling down from the point the creature was covering. "Adam? What''s happening?" The noise broked Adam out of his stupor - and the creature out of its meal. A pile of flesh, feathers, and bones fell down from the beast''s wings as it unfurled them, showing itself in its full glory, its uncovered underside making it much harder to distinguish from the rest of the night sky. Then it dived down. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH-"
In the cold morning air of autumn, Inspector Vanille drank a large sip of her coffee, the warmth of the beverage helping the reptilian to keep her awake. Cursed be her literal cold blood. "So, what do you think?" The Inspector looked down at her second in command, her right-hand man, Cooper. The man was in his thirties, always positive, and probably ate too many donuts for his own good, though his slight overweight never stopped him from running after criminals and catching them. Never underestimate the kind pudgy black officer. "Cooper, I''m a lizard out in the autumn morning with temperatures that would make winter blush. My brain isn''t awake enough to think on its own right now, give me a few seconds." He simply smiled and gave her a thumbs up. By the nine, that man was godsent. Him and his wonderful coffee-making capacities. How she pitied every inspector that had yet to find their own Cooper. Still, she had a job to do. She drank all of the coffee she had left in one go, her toughened insides protecting her throat from burning while still letting her savor the heat. Some girls got curves during puberty, she got muscles, green scales, and a head taller than everyone else. "Ok, I''m ready to go, bring it on." "A kid called us earlier tonight, he said he was on the phone with his friend when he suddenly became silent before screaming and then poof, nothing anymore. We sent a pair of guys to check up but they found nothing and treated the whole thing as a prank call." "Idiots." "You''re too harsh. Anyway, this morning an amateur ornithologist came by, apparently, some folks had seen a rare species of owls near the weird trees over there and he wanted to check it out. On the way there he found this." Cooper pointed behind him and Inspector Vanille looked over his shoulder. She blamed her lack of understanding on the fact it was early morning and her poor reptilian brain still had some issues with the cold but the thing she saw on the ground just looked like a lump. A brown, red with some white sprinkled in lump. "Which is..." "That''s the owl." That caught her off-guard and immediately helped her focus. Now that Cooper mentioned it she could see it, how the brown were feathers, the red was flesh and organs and the white was a perfectly conserved skeleton. A dead owl by itself wasn''t an issue per se, no matter how rare, the problem was... "No tears, it wasn''t eaten or clawed. There isn''t supposed to be anything that can melt down an owl like that nearby." "Right, no wild acidic creature in the city. Besides, the boys from the lab say it isn''t acid." A man in a white hazmat suit a bit further away yelled out. "I confirm!" Inspector Vanille rolled her eyes. Elves. "So, no acid? What about basic?" "It isn''t that either. It''s more like the parts that are missing just... Disappeared." "Which means it could have made the entire corpse vanish, if it didn''t then it''s either because it was full or something interrupted it." "Or someone. We found a phone and a flashlight a few meters away." "Let me guess, the missing kid''s phone?" "We can''t be sure, we don''t have the password so we can''t check what''s inside, but..." "A kid says he was on the phone with his friend when he disappeared and we found a lost phone near a suspicious corpse? Yeah, that''s his phone." She sighed. By the nine she hated what this meant. "We have to check for every unsolved disappearance in the last few days. Do we know anything more?" "No, but the kid says at their school..." "Firmin Locksoul, disappeared yesterday night. I know. Focus on disappearances that occurred at night. If there isn''t a body then our new friend may be responsible. Warn the population and contact the Union, that smells like Super stuff and I know when I''m outclassed." "You sure? For all we know it may-" "Cooper, you''re a great cop, but you ain''t a Cored. This mess reeks of a Cored animal or a monster. In fact, let''s have some guys check the database for anything similar." "It''s just... It doesn''t feel right, giving up right away." "We''re not giving up. Fighting whatever did this is the Union''s job, meanwhile, we will need to identify all of its victims to give their families some closure. That''s just as important." "I know, just..." "I know, Super stuff is annoying, but let''s face it we aren''t equipped well enough to deal with it." And so began the official hunt for what all of Zalcien would soon come to know as the Nightsnatcher. Chapter 25 : Techlord Sam''s head hurt, a lot. He groaned and tried to turn in his sleep but something was off. He didn''t feel like he was in bed and, thinking about it, his head was not the only thing that was hurting, his entire body was in pain. That''s when he remembered the fight. He snapped awake, surprising the tall lanky man that was carrying his homemade cybernetic armor-covered body, causing him to lose balance and fumble, barely catching himself as Sam escaped his grip, dropped to the ground and rolled to stand back up, his arms already in position and ready for a fight. "Whoa, whoa, calm down kid." Sam looked at the other man, much smaller and bulkier than the one who had been carrying him. "You shouldn''t do any fancy trick, I''m amazed you''re even conscious after the beatdown you took." "I had the situation under control." "Sure, that fireball wouldn''t have incinerated you on the spot. Larry, take care of him while I go check that no one''s around." "Sure thing Barry!" Sam paid close attention to both of the men''s movements, just in case either of the two had the bright idea to take him by surprise. He knew better than to let his guard down in the slums, no matter how recently he had arrived. The small one, Barry apparently, rolled his eyes at his partner''s optimism before heading further in an alleyway Sam was just noticing. His brain may have been slightly more shaken from his recent battle than he had thought. Once that train of thought had started he couldn''t get it out of his head. He had been completely outmatched. Sure, he had held his own against the henchmen but as soon as their boss got involved he got absolutely thrashed. Heck, even the henchmen curb-stomped him once they stopped playing nice apparently, given how easily they shrugged off any damage he had dealt previously. He was just a kid who knew how to throw a punch going after soldiers. "So, what''s your name?" Sam almost jumped, he had so engrossed in his self-loathing that he hadn''t noticed when the tall man - Larry if he remembered correctly - had gotten closer to him, bending his knees to be at eye-level with Sam, or at least as close as he could manage given Sam''s helmet''s lack of obvious slit or holes for him to see through, a very deliberate choice. The look on the man''s face was... Odd. He seemed genuinely curious and interested in Sam''s answer, an undeniable child-like wonder shining in his eyes, something that was very strange to see on any adult living in the slums, especially one like him, with svelte features and a small goatee that seemed more at home on a small-time Villain than anything. What should he do? Giving this unknown man his real name was a bad idea of course, even if he didn''t have much of a life right now names were still a very important thing and considering his recent meeting with a magic user, the rumors about demons using people''s names to enslave them came back to mind. No, giving his real name was out of the question. But his Vigilante alias should fine, surely. "I''m Techlord, master of technology." "Oh! So you made that armor yourself!" This could be a trap. On the one hand, if he said no, then it''s highly possible he would be deemed as useless and disposed of, but on the other hand, if he said yes then they could enslave him to force him to make more for them. Either way, it could end badly for him, but at least slavery could be escaped, not death. "Yes. Why do you ask?" "It''s really cool. I wish Barry and I could make stuff like that." "It''s hard and requires a lot of time." "Oh, I know. I had a friend who tinkered too." Had? Better not investigate, otherwise he could grow attached to this "Larry" and be more manipulable. "Say, it was really brave of you to save that guy." Ah, now he was judging what were his morals, maybe he would try to recruit him to become some Villain or small-time criminal''s little soldier. Not on his watch. "It was the right thing to do." "Not everyone thinks like that, you know? Even my brother, Barry, would have just left him there. He almost did." What was he talking about? The other man hadn''t interfered at all in his fight, he- It hit Sam. Larry had stopped the mage''s attack, and then Barry had protected his brother and Sam from her ire. "..." He had to say something, didn''t he. "Thank you. For helping me back there." "It was the right thing to do." Using his own words against him, eh? Nice move, but futile. Still, Sam should try to figure out what these two had planned for him, as well as who they worked for. "So, what now?" "Well, we drop you off at Pete''s, he''ll take good care of you, and we''ll go on our way." "Who is ''Pete''? I don''t think I ever heard of him." "Hm? Oh, you''re not from around here, are you?" Darn, it appeared that this "Pete" was a well-known local figure. Or it could be a test to figure out if he really was an outsider or not. Well, since today was his first apparition as Techlord, he might as well tell the truth. "No, I''m from the Junkland." "Oh, so that''s where you got the stuff for your armor! But you must be completely lost around here, no?" The Junkland, a place so large it couldn''t be compared to a regular junkyard anymore. It was the place where everyone dumped all of the trash from Super fights, everything that was too broken to be recycled by the legit scientific Supers and not dangerous enough for the Union to lock in one of their vaults ended up there, and sometimes people too. It was an odd place to grow up in, another one of the areas that symbolized the divide between the regular Zalcien and its slums that was further North from the one they currently were dwelling, the Black Border. "I am not lost if I have no destination." "Oh, a wandering Vigilante then? It must be hard to take care of your stuff if you don''t have a home." Well, he did have a base but... Those questions were getting uncomfortable. Quick, he had to find a way to derail the conversation... "So, you work for this ''Pete''?" "Oh no, no one works for Pete. He does everything on his own with his wife, he doesn''t want anyone else to get hurt." "What does he do, exactly?" "Oh, he''s a baker! And a great pastry chef too!" This... was not what he expected. "A baker? What danger is there in baking?" "Well, you can burn yourself with the ovens, get cut, crush some of your fingers with the machines..." "I get it, minor stuff." "He''s also a Vigilante." "He''s a what now." "A Vigilante, like you!" "Why didn''t you start with that?" "He doesn''t think of himself as one. He just says he''s the friendly neighborhood baker, and that helping people out when they get mugged is part of a friendly attitude." "It''s... Logical. What does he do as a Vigilante?" "Oh, his alias is Sweet Pete and he controls sugar!" "..." "..." "...That''s it?" "Yes." "That doesn''t seem like much." Larry winced at that, either hurt or offended for the man, but he didn''t disagree. "It''s enough to help people around here. The real big shots don''t come near unless it''s for business and even then they don''t stay long and they behave. The only things we have to fear are the goons and the monsters." "Really? That seems... Almost safe." "Well, with the Black Bank nearby and the Union not far either, the really dangerous stuff sticks to the heart of the slums." He sighed. "It doesn''t mean it''s entirely safe though, life is still harsh and people still get hurt. We just have less massacres than the rest of the slums." "I see..." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. This was surprising. Both the discovery of the relative safety of the Black Border, at least compared to the rest of the slums, as well as this lanky man''s behavior. He had seemed childish at first but, even without taking into account Sam''s paranoia, had shown to be perfectly aware of how bad things were. Usually one would imply the lack of the other, even among regular children. "So... Who do you work for? You two don''t seem like the type to handle yourselves." "Ouch, that hurts. Believe it or not but it was actually just the two of us until very recently." Yes, the plan had worked. People with a harmed ego are always more likely to give out information. "Oh?" "Yup, we just got hired earlier today. I''m so excited! It''s the first time we''ll get to work for someone and I''m sure the boss is really nice." "Who is it, exactly, if you don''t mind me asking?" "We don''t know." What. "Pardon me?" "We don''t know, he didn''t give us a name and we''ve never seen him before. He doesn''t look like any of the Supers we heard of either." "What does he look like then?" "I don''t know." "How." "It was dark, he was covered in shadows. It was almost like he was one with them." "Do you at least know if he''s a Villain or a Vigilante?" "Nope." What was wrong with these people? Who would work for someone they have absolutely no knowledge of, including their morals, ethics, and goals? WHO? "How did you end up working for someone you know nothing about? That seems... Highly unusual." "He saved our lives, we offered to work for him, he said yes." "So he''s a Vigilante then?" "Well, I think he saved us from monsters he was already fighting, since he showed up at the same time as they appeared, so..." "Why were you-" "Larry!" Sam and Larry turned around to see Barry looking at them from the end of the alleyway, a very annoyed frown on his face. "Barry! So, is the coast clear?" "Larry, were you telling this complete stranger our private information?" "..." "Larry." "Mayyybe." "LARRY." "What, he''s nice." "So was that guy giving away free candies." Those two idiots were the ones to save him. If he needed any more proof that he was a failure of a Vigilante, this was it. He should have known better, how could a kid from the Junkland become anything useful. It was a land of errors and mistakes, and he was just another one of them. "Anyway, the coast is clear so let''s hurry and bring you to Pete''s place so that we can go on with our lives." "Very well, lead the way." Maybe he should just go back home, if still could be called that. Give up on this whole Vigilante charade, go back to scavenging scraps, and try to make ends meet. As they walked around another corner - their little walk being slowed down by Sam''s limping form, his legs still hurting from his recent beatdown - they finally got to see their destination, a small little run-down shop with a massive window on the front, letting anyone look inside to see the numerous appetizing goods on display. The facade of the shop itself was clearly marked by time, covered in odd cuts and holes here and there, wooden planks providing improvised reparations on the parts that seemed the most damaged. Pink, white, blue, and red streaks of paint decorated the place, giving it an undeniable cheerful look compared to the rest of the green, black, grey, and brown buildings, though it would have looked more horrifying than anything if it had been placed within a normal city. To top it all off was a little white ensign with the place''s name written in pink on it: "Pete''s". "It sure is... colorful." "Has to be if it wants to be seen." Unlike all of the buildings they had seen so far, the bakery wasn''t situated in an alleyway, instead, it was in a massive open area, offering Sam the most sunlight he''d seen in the past few days. They weren''t in alleys anymore, no, they had reached one of the major marketplaces of the slums, a subdivision of the Black Border, the Black Block. Named after its black ground which, if viewed from above, looked like a perfect square if nothing stood on it - which, considering the nature of the slums, only happened in case of attacks, otherwise it was covered by stalls, trash, people, and the occasional corpse. Pete''s was located on the fringe of the Black Block, it was not the only actual shop building but it was definitely the most eyecatching one around, which to be fair wasn''t hard to do when most of Sam''s view was filled by a massive crowd of the slums-dwellers going on about their day, buying, selling, stealing whatever they could. "I thought the coast was clear?" "Eh? Ah, that''s just the Black Block''s black market. None of them would try anything on us. No, what I meant is that is no monster or thug around." "What about thieves?" "Kid, everyone''s a thief when they''re hungry." "What Barry means is that they won''t bother us. We don''t carry enough to attract them." "You two blokes don''t but that kid''s suit is looking fancy!" The three of them turned around to notice a ragtag team of three mutants had snuck up on them, some kind of rat person, a lizardman, and a very pale androgynous human with somewhat translucent flesh, the gaps in his torn and revealing clothes allowing any passer-by to see the vague shape of his black bones. Sam could clearly see how tensed up his two saviors were once they saw them, they obviously didn''t have the means to fight off an ambush by three Cored. "Jeffrey, Mark, Soluble. You''re alive." "Yeah, and not thanks to you!" Wait, they recognized them? "You all know each other?" "Oh, Techlord, these three used to be our neighbors!" The lizardman apparently was very annoyed by Larry''s optimism judging by the snap of teeth that followed. "Until these two idiotsss brought an entire pack of Sssicklersss to our home! They destroyed everything and nearly killed us!" Sicklers? What were those doing outside of the Junkland? "To be fair those were just pups, we weren''t in that much danger-" "Shut up Jeffrey. I''m not in the mood for thisss." "Mark is right. Listen, as much as I want to melt down those ugly mugs of yours we''re more interested in that kid''s gadgets. We owe a lot of people a lot of money after your little stunt and I''m sure this thing could net us a couple of bucks." "Soluble, we just had a terrible day and so did the kid. Can''t we do this another day?" "Jeffrey, do I care about their opinion?" "No, you don''t." "See? So get out of the way and scram off, we''ll teach you a lesson later. Now, kid, you''re going to take this off and-" As the pale and translucid humanoid approached Sam, a wall of white particles flew in from out of nowhere and stopped the mutant in their tracks. Sam didn''t even have the time to wonder about what was happening before a tall overweight cheery man wearing white clothes and a pink apron appeared and stepped between the trio of would-be muggers and their group. "Soluble, no fighting near the bakery." "Pete, listen, these idiots owe us money and-" "Sssoluble, shut up. Sssorry Pete, they jussst put usss through a lot of trouble and-" "Mark is right! Soluble is just verrry tired, actually we''re going home right now! Right guys?" "Yesss, Jeffrey." "... Fine. But this isn''t over. We''ll remember this." That was it? Pete showing up was enough for three Cored to turn tail and run? Someone whose power was to control sugar of all things? Either they were more cowardly than he had thought, or... "Thanks, Pete." "No problem Barry. Still, what have you done this time?" "We maaay have accidentally attracted a bunch of monsters and they ruined their hideout." "Larr-" "Sigh, well, what''s done is done. Try to make it up for them later, alright? I know you don''t get along but you''re still at fault there." ""Sorry Pete."" "Oh, and who do we have here?" Now that the situation had calmed down Sam could get a better look at his new savior. Pete was pretty much exactly what you thought of when you heard the word "baker", with thick limbs and a chubby body, his waist being as wide as his shoulders, but with unusual short white hair with pink strands here and there, along with a recently shaved beard that appeared to follow the same pattern. "Some kid who had the bright idea of fighting some guys from Wicked Witchcraft. What was the leader''s name again Larry?" "Rose I think, she said she even had a job for him if he wanted to." "Rose uh? I don''t see her all that much but her boys do show up from time to time. I''ll tell them not to bother you anymore. But why did you try to fight them?" "They were mugging someone." The Super baker seemed surprised by Sam''s artificially modified voice but didn''t dwell on it. "Do you know who?" "Some kind of toad-" "It was Burk." "Ah, thank you, Larry. It was very nice of you, but-" "I know, you''re going to say that ''a child like me shouldn''t meddle in the adults'' business'' or ''try to play Hero''." "No, I was going to say you shouldn''t have acted on your own." "Well, I can''t help it if no one''s there to help me." "Come on, don''t be like that. Many novice Vigilantes that I know would kill to work with someone who can make this kind of gear, if you''re the one who made it that is." "I am, and I don''t plan on becoming someone''s pet." "This isn''t what I meant. I know how hard it is to start out, and I know no matter what I say you won''t back down." Well, that might have been true before today. But now, after seeing how hopelessly outmatched he was? He wasn''t so sure. "Uhm, if you don''t mind Larry and I will be going. We have some stuff to do and I''d rather be done before night falls." "See you later Pete! See you soon Techlord!" The strange duo simply walked away, Larry waving widely to Pete and Sam as they began to disappear in the crowd. "Don''t get in any more trouble you two! Now then, Techlord was it?" "Yes." "What can you actually do?" What could he do? He had salvaged scraps and wires and plastic and electronics, had created innovative gadgets without any professional help or training, had assembled all of it into a single suit of cybernetic armor he could wear, had trained to fight with and without it against monsters, had managed to fight his way through the Junkland to reach the Black Border on his own- And failed at his first actual operation. "-I can help train you if you want but-" "Nothing. I can''t do anything." "What are you-" "I thought I was good enough, I managed to beat a few monsters in the Junkland and thought I could suddenly be a Vigilante. Ha, fat chance." "What do you mean?" "I got absolutely destroyed by this ''Rose'' and her men. These two idiots had to save me, and they somehow pulled it off." "Oh, they''re not the most impressive but I can guarantee-" "And now you just chased off three Cored as if it was nothing despite your power being the ability to control sugar. I thought my inventions were great but nope, everything''s totally worthless-" "You stop right there." Oh? The baker''s cheery demeanor had finally stopped. "First off, Rose and her boys aren''t your average goon, they''re the stuff the Union actually sends Heroes to fight, even if they''re still Novices. I don''t know what happened but the fact you can still walk is already impressive, especially if it was your first actual fight." Well, at least he got trounced by professionals. But- "Second, being Cored means nothing. Brandon on the other end of the market is a perfectly regular human but he still manages to scare off any would-be assailant on his own with pure technique and skill. On the same train of thought, never underestimate a power. Again, sometimes skill is better than brute force. Yes, my power is to control sugar and yes, it isn''t the most impressive power around, but I found a way to make it useful and a genuine threat, although it took years. You''re already doing way better than I was at your age." Maybe but- "Third, never let a single defeat affect you. You''re an inventor, no? Then you should know we learn from our mistakes. A new recipe is always flawed the first time, you advance through trial and error. Even today some of my oldest tricks change and improve as I discover new ingredients, new tools, and new palettes with different tastes." Okay, he was more familiar with multiple iterations of a machine than recipes but Sam saw what the point was. He was thankful for the message, sure, but there was still this nagging feeling in his head that- "Fourth, don''t listen to that voice." Uh? "What, did you think you were the only one with doubts? Everyone has it, no exception. Sometimes it''s right, so don''t totally disregard it, but not everything it says is worth your time." ...Fine. He would get over it. Why wouldn''t he? He had already done it before, when he was working alone for hours on end, through the heat of summer days and the cold of winter nights. Yes, he was only caught off-guard, he didn''t know what he would face here. Yes, he was going to get back on track, create something new and improved from what he''d learned to deal with those unforeseen threats, and if he failed he would do it all over again and again until he died! But first, to save his future reputation as a cold and quiet Vigilante. "...You are correct, thank you." "Bah, don''t worry, you aren''t the first kid I see that wants to change the world and you won''t be the last. Do you want something? It''s on the house." "...Do you have coffee ¨¦clairs?"
A few hours and pastries later, Sam was back in his hideout, a little abandoned crumbling house situated North of the Black Block, close enough to be considered of the Black Border and not of the Junkland but close enough to his old home for scavenging to be quick and easy, he had chosen the old bricked building because it had a large enough basement to hold his equipment and some of the scraps he found. It wasn''t much but it was enough, he may not have installed defenses as thorough as the ones back at his home but no one would come snooping around in the area he had settled down, he was sure of it. He took a deep sip of his coffee - thank the Nine he had put together a portable coffee machine in the Junkland and had brought his own stash, the thing that the locals called coffee here was horrendous - and began to draw blueprint after blueprint, tossing an occasional ball of crumpled paper into the bin whenever his desk was getting too crowded. Finally, in the dead of night, as a mysterious creature fed on a poor unfortunate soul somewhere in Gaia''s Garden, Sam had it. The idea that would solve all of his problems. His greatest creation yet. The machine that would help him take his revenge and protect the citizens of the slums. He already had the perfect name for it, too. The Techmech. Chapter 26 : Teaching ethics with cartoons An impossibly tall hooded man in a magnificent red robe with golden linings stood in the middle of nowhere, the view to the infinity of space and time mesmerizing. As nebulae, stars and galaxies danced all around him, the white opening in the shape of a doorway in this grand infinity that lied behind him began to churn before more robed men walked through, a transparent material appearing beneath their feet at every step. These men were smaller, closer to the normal height of a human being, and yet they only reached the hips of their leader, their plain light red robes contrasting with his darker and more elaborate attire. Once all the men had taken position, forming a circle around their leader, he began to speak, a calm yet booming voice defiling the silence that had ruled so far. "My children, the time has come. You now stand before infinity itself, the holy sanctity of the void given life, the figment of reality we have the audacity to call our universe." The man raised his arms and extended them as far as possible. "Yes, the time has come to fulfill your destiny and reforge the chains of fate!" ""Burn the sun, scorch the stars!"" Golden scorching energy began to rise from the men as they too raised their arms, unbearable heat that would melt mountains being released from the ritual, as they all focused and began drawing runes that would forever change the way of the world- "Not so fast, Prometheus!" One voice dared to interrupt the ritual, the pale blue energy subconsciously infused in the words powerful enough to disrupt the runes and erase them, rendering the cultists'' work so far completely moot. "Who dares stand in the way of mankind''s freedom from its divine slavers? Who dares protect the strings of servitude and preserve the hedonistic puppeteers who have the hubris to claim their tyranny is mercy?" "It is I." ""Captain Cyan!!!"" James looked at the ratlings as they shouted the Hero''s name perfectly in sync with the series'' narrator. You know, I''m starting to wonder if I shouldn''t start restricting how much time they can spend with a screen... After their little heart-to-heart, there had been a vote to decide the family''s next activity. Unsurprisingly, watching Captain Cyan won with five votes out of six as soon as it was proposed. "I call shenanigans. I''m an adult and you''re all children, I should at least have a right of veto." "Shhh, talk." "I won''t let you rewrite reality, Prometheus!" "You dare? Even if this alteration to Kronos'' foul creation is for the betterment of all? For the salvation of humankind and all of sapient life?" "The past is the past, Prometheus. History shouldn''t be trifled with." "Foolish child, I am history! I am the one who brought civilization to your kind despite the gods'' wishes to keep you in the dark, to treat you as obedient sheep that they would farm and slaughter for faith, fun, and worship!" "Sorry, I''m an atheist." "YOU DARE-" "Dad, what atheist?" Today is the day of hard questions, eh? "You see Foudre, an atheist is someone who doesn''t believe in a god." "But gods exist?" "That''s... A really good point. Uh. Where I come from there is no certainty about whether there is a god or not, and which is the real one is an even worse debate, but in a place like this..." "Foolish child, you have Zeus'' pride! You fail to see how wrong you may be and enforce your ignorant worldview on all no matter what!" "If this is the worse trait of Zeus I own then I don''t mind!" "Worry not, for soon you shall share his tendency not to look human - for you will be ashes in the wind!" "I guess being an atheist in a world where gods not only exist but constantly manifest themselves may just refer to the fact they don''t worship or follow any? I''m not sure, we should check it out at one point." Lucille''s interest had been picked. "Papa atheist?" "Well, I didn''t think much about religion in my past life, so I''d say I was agnostic - that means I believed neither in the existence nor inexistence of a divine entity, instead I simply lived my life thinking that I would see once I''d be dead. Now though? I don''t know, I haven''t taken the time to take a look at the local pantheons. It appears some of them match those of my old world, though." "Prometheus?" "Yep, he''s in one of them. Well, he wasn''t actually a god there either but he still wasn''t a mortal." "No spoilers!" "Fine, fine." The rest of the episode went exactly as you would expect, with Captain Cyan and Prometheus duking it out with fireballs and bursts of blue energy in a grand fight to determine the fate of the world in The Anteroom of Creation, the Hero doing all he could to prevent the Titan from altering the flow of time and ensure the destruction of the Grellasian Pantheon. The episode was a bit more serious than usual compared to the rest of the series - at least by James'' standards - but it ended like any other episode, with Captain Cyan saving the day, stopping the Villain, and giving them a quick moral lesson before sending them to prison. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. To Prometheus'' credit, he didn''t cry how unfair it was that he was defeated, or that he would have gotten away with it were it not for this meddling mortal, or curse Captain Cyan, or swear that he would take his revenge. No, he did none of that. He only said he was disappointed that mankind had grown so fond of its shackles and sorry that he couldn''t stop it. Even Captain Cyan didn''t know how to react until his companions joined him to celebrate their victory and the show''s ending theme began. "Daddy, why Captain Cyan sad?" "Well, Prometheus is supposedly the one who gave mankind fire, one of the first steps of civilization. I suppose Captain Cyan felt guilty about fighting someone who helped humanity so much." "So Prometheus good?" Oh boy. The difference between good and evil. How am I supposed to teach rats- no, remember, James. They are intelligent, they are children, and every parent has to teach their kids about good and evil at one point. You are their father now, it''s your job. "Well, he was benevolent at least." "Why fight Hero if good?" "Well... You know how you kill cockroaches to eat them?" "Yes?" "From the cockroach''s point of view, you are a monster trying to kill it." Goliath didn''t take that thought very well. "Oh. Are we... Bad?" OH GOD MY HEART- "Of course not! This just means that everyone sees the world in their own way, and sometimes those different perspectives clash." "So... Captain Cyan and Prometheus good, but fight because no think same thing?" "I''d say that the concept of good and evil are flawed. You shouldn''t think of them as objective truths but rather as selflessness and selfishness." He could see the gears turning in Foudre''s head as she tried to process James'' explanation. "Captain Cyan want protect people and Prometheus want help them in different way so they fight?" "Exactly. Prometheus wants to change history to prevent bad things from happening, but Captain Cyan stopped him because these bad things had a lot of good consequences." James'' explanation didn''t seem to convince Blanche. "But why save bad things?" Oh boy, how can I explain the concept of greater and how people learn from horrible events... Well, there is a way... "Think of the Scavenger. If it hadn''t attacked your biological parents, they would still be alive today, but without the sound of the fight, I wouldn''t have found you. If you could make it so that the Scavenger''s attack never happened, would you?" The pain and confusion that appeared simultaneously on all of the children''s faces broke James'' heart but it had to be done. This was the best way to make them understand that sometimes, no matter how bad things were, they could have wonderful consequences. "Daddy... Hard to..." James wasn''t hurt by their difficulty in making a choice. Frankly, had he been in their position, he too would have a hard time knowing what to say. But wondering even further, would the choice be this hard if they had already been sapient when their parents were alive? "I know. And that''s the kind of choice Captain Cyan faced." Blanche nodded solemnly. "Heroes no only fight bad guys, Heroes fight hard choices." "Old man opinion?" "I think... I think there is some credit to Prometheus'' plan, but he should have listened to what people wanted. I also think that sometimes, what happened afterward is too important to change the event." "So father agree with Captain Cyan?" "In this case? Yes. I''m not familiar with this world''s history, but I can hazard a guess as to how important ''mankind''s slavery to the Grellasian gods'' may have been for their civilization''s development. It''s also possible Prometheus misunderstood the situation or was biased against the gods. It''s also possible that Captain Cyan himself was influenced by his friends and families on how to view religion." "Who right?" "Usually, everyone is, at least partially. They''re just too prideful to find a satisfying midway point and would rather leave everyone miserable." "Sounds stupid and hard." "Welcome to the world of morals, politics, and ethics, as well as that of clashing philosophies. That''s one of the big downsides of sapient life." "Sapient?" "If something is conscious and has feelings, then it''s sentient. If it''s smart enough to have a sense of self and understand philosophy even in its basest form, then it''s sapient." "Sounds like mess." "Because it is." "Can go kill things now?" "I''m sorry David but no. After such a big fight and a major shift in territories, we must give some time to the sewers'' local ecosystem to heal. Once it has adapted to all of these changes, then we''ll be able to hunt. If you''re tired of watching Captain Cyan we could train instead" "... No. Captain Cyan." "You know watching too much TV - or phone I guess - can be bad for your health, right?" "Bad for human, rat superior." "David." "One more episode?" "Fine. But it''s the last one today!" It wasn''t.
Five episodes of animated Superhero action later, the ratlings had finally run out of energy, the exhaustion from all of the events of the day sending them directly to sleep. James watched the little bundle of fur they had formed and couldn''t help but take a picture with his phone, which surprisingly looked really good despite not using a flash in an area devoid of light. Once that was done, he decided to do some research on this world''s deities. Unsurprisingly he saw a lot of pantheons similar to ones he knew, even if the names of some gods or the countries changed slightly. He also found a lot of new gods he had never heard of, all of them ruling over either classic domains - such as gods of death, nature, the sea, etc - or incredibly niche and weird ones, such as a god of microwave cooking who had somehow made their own blog and were managing it themself. Apparently, divinity wasn''t that far off from capitalism. Most of the gods were well-established old-timers, with the occasional young upstart who came up with a really good idea, and they all competed to have the most faith and worshippers, with the worst of the competition being between gods of the same domain. Sweeter afterlife, charity healing, power boosts, exclusivity deals in exchange for blessings, everything was fair game. Most people followed a famous god or pantheon, though there were still some less famous ones that got by because they were closer to and more personal with their followers - case in point, the god of microwave cooking. The total number of major gods and pantheons was ridiculous but those followed in Zalcien were thankfully less numerous. The main religion was the cult of the Nine, a pantheon actually made up of seven saints and only a duo of real gods who opposed each other in every way, one praising order and the other chaos while the saints each upheld both a virtue and a sin. They apparently all had a very interesting story but James preferred to research the rest of the local deities. After the cult of the Nine, there were the classic pantheons that he knew of, with the Greek, Egyptian, and Native American gods - the names of the countries were different but the similitudes were clear enough. Then some people worshipped this solar system''s planets, without any ties to existing religions with similar concepts, the Stellisists. Following that were elemental gods, some were worshipped in a bundle and others preferred to work alone. To be honest, James quickly overlooked them, their names all sounded the same and it didn''t take a genius to guess that Pyraxior was probably a god of fire. Sure, they all had different teachings, one god of the earth praised agriculture and calm while another praised mining and determination, but none of them really stood out in James'' eyes. Then there were the Hivines, led by the Biflora, the religious group that had supposedly indoctrinated that girl on that online forum he visited, HardCored. DaffyDaisy, if he remembered correctly. It seemed there really was a big debate over whether or not they should be considered a Villainous group with religious tendencies or just a plain old new age new religion. That was a mouthful. They praised nature and, surprisingly, mutations. They were against technology and were indifferent to magic, claiming that although the arcane arts were manmade mana itself was natural. Reading some of the stuff of their site... Yeah, they weirded him out. It was the usual cultist spiel, give everything you have, including yourself, to the cause and its leader. Let nature reclaim the world. Put an end to mankind''s tyranny over the world. Bring peace to the fauna and, more importantly, the flora. The way they wrote things, too... There was no doubt in his mind they were overzealous people manipulated by a charismatic leader. The real question was, was this all a scam, a way to stroke his ego while furthering his goals, or did he genuinely believe in all that stuff... He closed the page. He didn''t want to lose his sleep - not that he slept now - over a cult he would hopefully never meet. What were the chances they would come knocking at his door down in the sewers to try and convert him? Chapter 27 : A rats love Lucille looked at her opponent and narrowed her eyes. What would be the best way to act? A somersault followed by a claw strike? Whipping it with her tail? Bitting was of course out of the question, her teeth would never touch the shadow and she would only shatter them on the stone walls or floor, and she didn''t fancy that idea. She rushed to the right, never leaving the shadow out of her sight as it mirrored her movement, and she leaped into the air. One second, two, three, and smash! she kicked the black shape on the wall with her hindlegs, taking care to take on the right posture to negate as much damage as possible from hitting stone. She used the force from her kick to rebalance midair and landed on the ground, ready for another strike. As always, the shadow was waiting right in front of her. As she got ready to attack once more, an annoyingly pompous voice interrupted her. "Why Lucille kick wall?" The light-grey-furred rat sighed before turning around to address her sister. "Training, Blanche. Maybe train too?" "No thanks." Lucille sighed once more, exasperated. It had been a day now since their father had slain the two monsters that had turned the sewer into a frenzy, putting an end to the little war the two giant critters had waged on each other. Much to her chagrin, she didn''t know much about the state of things before the presence of the Titaroach and the Matoador as her father called them, she was much too young to have lived through this period. Thinking about it, she hadn''t had the opportunity to live under their reign either, her father had found her and her siblings before they got a chance to live in the wild, and now... Well, there hadn''t been that much time between finding out about the monsters'' existence and ending it. After their little heart to heart - notably about their father''s insecurities when it came to raising them - and a little binge-watching of Captain Cyan, their family had decided to rest a little. They had deserved it after the fight they got in. Hence the current situation, their father had taken David and Foudre along to hunt dinner while she, Blanche, and Goliath stayed home. Goliath went back to tinkering with the various scraps they had collected from their raid on that gang''s hideout, trying to improve their current equipment before their father inevitably infused it with his shadows or whatever it was he did to things. Honestly, as much as it pained her to say so, he was very predictable. "But why fight shadow?" "Training for father." The way he fought was like nothing she knew of. Granted, she didn''t know much, but none of the beasts roaming the sewers or of the creatures Captain Cyan fought in his series acted like him. The way he glided on the floor as if he was floating before immediately diving down as if he had never been there, the way he could go from a formless shadow to a very real and physical threat... As far as Lucille was aware he had yet to fight an opponent by pretending to be their shadow but she knew that, sooner or later, the idea would cross his mind, and fights against him would become even harder. She didn''t care about fighting itself. In fact, David''s obsession and unhealthy aggression confused her greatly. How could fighting be enjoyable? It was a way to execute a task, a means to an end. It was about efficiency, not fun. At least he trained, unlike some other rat she knew. How could Blanche be so... Herself? What was the point of beauty in the sewers, with no other rat around to boot? Hygiene she could understand, it was primordial to stay clean in an environment as infectious as the sewers could be. Even without taking into account her strange urge to be "pretty", she clearly wasn''t training enough and never took anything seriously. David might have been childish too but at least he remembered to train and knew when he couldn''t mess around. Sure, she knew how to fight, but if she never improved... Lucille glanced at Goliath. The oldest and biggest sibling in their litter, yet he had shown a complete lack of fighting instinct on their first sortie. If his body had been any weaker and if he hadn''t reacted in time... There would be one more grave in the dusty alley. She shook the thought out of her head. They were all alive and that was what mattered. He was getting stronger and constantly working on making them all better. She had yet to feel completely comfortable with any of the weapons they had improvised so far but she wouldn''t deny their efficacity. Without them, they would have only been dead weight in the last fight. Not that they weren''t dead weight now. She didn''t bother talking about it with their father. She might not have known him for all that long compared to the things he had experienced in his last life, but to her and her siblings, he was everything. Hence, she knew perfectly well he would have dismissed her opinion, reassuring her that he didn''t need much. But she knew. She knew he could be more if given the chance. He could replace either of the two monsters he had struck down, considering how easily he had killed them both while in a three-way fight. Hell, as much as it pained her to say, David was probably right about him overestimating the threat the surface presented. But, unlike her older brother, she knew it wasn''t cowardice but worry that fueled their father''s doubts. He wasn''t worried about himself, but them. She knew it. The worst part was, his worries were well-founded. They were only rats whereas he was so much more. Oh, she couldn''t deny that obtaining sapience had made them more than mere rats, but how much farther could intelligence alone carry them? Goliath weaponized it with his, well, weapons, David combined it with his animalistic and rampaging fighting style to rip and tear his enemies in the best way possible, Foudre got better and better at countering attacks and Blanche... Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Blanche did nothing with it. Nothing that mattered. She just picked up a stick to stab things from further away just to make sure her fur wouldn''t be dirtied! If at least she tried to do something with it as Foudre had done to her weird needle-pack, or how Goliath had chosen to wear armor... Even David''s claws, which were only random junk strapped on his actual claws, were more effective! It improved his natural weapons and blended into his regular fighting style and didn''t impact his mobility, whereas Blanche''s spear forced her to stand on her hind legs which meant she couldn''t run as easily, at least not without dropping it. Lucille took in a deep breath and sighed. No, there was no need to be angry. She might have disliked how Blanche handled herself but right now just was projecting her frustrations on her sister. She shouldn''t let her feelings get in the way. They all needed to get stronger. Both for themselves, and for him. Yes. They needed to be better. To be more. Unknown to her, a spherical object gleamed with potential within her chest.
Foudre looked at David as he leaped on an unsuspecting toad and quickly scratched it with his claws, sending blood everywhere. She was annoyed, of course. They both knew he could have made deeper wounds and ended his prey''s life in a blink of an eye, and yet here he was, drawing out the process to get as much sadistic fun as he could out of it. "David, one of the first things a hunter has to learn is how to kill as quickly as possible. Your aim, past surviving and securing the kill, is to make the process as painless as possible." Foudre saw how her brother rolled his eyes. Still, he listened to their dad and clawed the toad''s throat out, putting an end to his little torture session. Foudre was pretty sure David would be the only one to eat from this one, considering its current state. Blanche for sure wouldn''t touch it. And Goliath would probably be put off by all the blood and gnashes on the flesh. Lucille... Thinking about it, maybe she actually wouldn''t mind eating an eviscerated toad. After vigorously cleaning it, of course. And maybe after a little cooking. The concept of cooking had quickly made its way into their little furry heads. They had been horrified at first, burning food? It was an absolute waste of nutrition! Of course, after they saw how appetizing cooked food was in Captain Cyan''s adventures, they had asked Goliath to do some internet searches and had been floored by the results. Of course they each had flashed on something different. Blanche, unsurprisingly, was interested in luxurious stuff, like lobsters and caviar. She had even asked their dad to cook cockroaches like crabs. Goliath was more interested in sweet stuff, pastries, and candies filling his culinary dreams. Sadly for him, there was no such thing down in the sewers. Maybe they could ask those two humans that their dad had recruited to bring them some? Foudre herself had taken a liking to roasts, something she could thankfully improvise with a little discharge from her needle-pack as she had shown during their last big fight. Lucille and David... Foudre wasn''t sure. David still seemed to prefer raw meat at least, despite their dad''s best efforts. Still, she couldn''t help but think there was a weird glint in his eyes whenever there was cheese... As for Lucille, she seemed to favor light, quick, and "efficient" meals. Foudre was pretty sure her sister''s obsession with being a perfect survival machine was unhealthy, especially in a situation like theirs where their dad could easily deal with most threats. She wasn''t wrong to say they needed to train and get stronger, but they needed to live too. Not that she could complain, considering the fact she herself had some weird tendencies. Namely, her overreliance on other people''s actions to decide her own. She knew it wasn''t normal, but it was just so much easier and safer that way. But, as different as they might have been, all five rat siblings could agree on one thing. Wait, no, two. Captain Cyan was awesome and their dad was incredible. They all wanted to be more like them, to help people, to beat up bad guys, to go on adventures, and be incredible too! She spared a glance on David''s kill. Yeah, they still had to work some quirks out before they became Heroes. Unbeknownst to her, a strange orb emitted a small spark in her chest.
David looked at his most recent kill and his claws covered in blood. It wasn''t enough. He might have been strong enough to toy with the stupid batrachian but the toad could still move, could still have proven to be a threat. He had yet to fully understand which nerves did what in a body, how to most efficiently rip a living thing apart as painfully and safely as possible. No matter, he would get there one day. He had to. For them. For him. For himself. He would become the most feared predator in these tunnels. One you couldn''t escape from, couldn''t hide from, only run aimlessly as he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt before partaking in his favorite activity. Bear maybe Captain Cyan. That show was good. Yes, he would become the greatest monster the world had ever seen. One specialized in hunting other monsters. His blood raged on in his veins.
Goliath tinkered with odd scraps of metal, trying to figure what they had been and what they could become. This one, with its weird round shape, had it been a gear? Maybe it could become one, or a wheel, or- Oh! Maybe he could make a circular saw! Or a shield! Yes, a shield! This one spoke the most to him. But which of his siblings would use a shield? It was already a miracle David used his artificial claws, Foudre preferred to evade and already had her electrified needle-pack... Lucille and Blanche? Lucille might find a use for a shield and she had yet to find the weapon that corresponded to her the most, but Goliath felt like a shield would be too bulky and unwieldy to bring out her full potential. No, the shield wouldn''t do, not for her. But what about Blanche? She might complain that it was too ugly, but some cleaning and redesigning... If he convinced her it would help protect her body... Yes, a shield for Blanche. Maybe he could even keep that circular sawblade idea! It would be messy, but as a last resort, it would be very effective. Plus, Blanche wouldn''t be mad if she didn''t know what would happen. Now, how could he implement those ideas... Oh, was that another circular piece? Maybe with a third he could- Yes, here was one! Now to find something to turn into a handle, a way to fuel the spinning, and maybe a few more tricks he could implement... As Goliath sorted through the scraps and began to imagine different designs for brand new weapons, energy began to gather in a specific spot near his brain.
Blanche watched a series about fashion on the family''s phone, her entire body bathed in the light produced by the screen. Lucille could train all she wanted, Blanche knew she had no chance of becoming a better fighter than her. Her strong suit wasn''t fighting, after all. But beauty? No one would defeat her in that field. Somewhere within, something pulsed near her heart. Chapter 28 : Online forums, second attempt James tried not to stare at the ratlings while they ate their meal. Watching rats eat bugs and toads was one thing, it was an entirely different matter when said rats could speak and had decided you were their parent. At least they had agreed to let him try and cook their prey, except for David of course because why wouldn''t that child want to do something weird just to annoy him- No, remember James, he''s not actively trying to be a brat. He''s just more cynical and attached to his bestial side than the others. Cooking had been easier than expected. He had quickly dug an open oven into one of the walls of the lair, including a little chimney that instead of going to the surface did a few loops before going to one of the main tunnels, a little trick that still allowed them to get rid of smoke while hiding their position. None of the sewers'' residents had shown the intelligence to track down their position from smoke alone but you could never be too safe. The oven, which James had designed after old brick bread ovens due to the lack of electricity, was large enough to hold all of the cockroaches and the toad that he, David, and Foudre had hunted down. Of course, an oven without heat was pretty useless, and so a fire had to be made. He quickly infused a broken discarded lighter with his shadows, creating a small device that produced black flames. They worked exactly as regular fire would, except they apparently never ran out and James could affect them too with his shadow manipulation. A couple of improvised stakes infusion later and, after a short while in the oven, they had gotten roasted cockroaches. The toad had spent some time over the fire too but since David and Lucille were the only ones willing to eat it it was left mostly raw. Hence the present situation, where the two were silently devouring the amphibian while their siblings shared the cockroaches. James was very happy he couldn''t eat anymore for once. Or at least he didn''t need to, and while he was willing to test out whether or not he could something he didn''t want his first meal in this new world to be a toad or a cockroach, especially ones that came from the sewers. Aaand now he didn''t have anything left to do. His meeting with his two newly-hired henchmen was still a little way off and the ratlings were eating and training right away didn''t seem like a good idea. So, what could he do to pass the time? Well, there was one thing he used to do... Surfing the internet. Now, the question was what could he do... Check out this world''s memes? Some more research on the local wildlife? Figure out how was the government of Zalcien handling the treatment of non-humans? Oh, what about that forum? HardCored, was it?
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: So, Techno. Explosion or implosion? You know my answer already. TechnoGogo: On the one hand, implosion tends to be more destructive, on the other hand, explosion goes boom. KillLaKrill: Ah yes, mankind''s greatest dilemma: big fiery boom or strong but less impressive boom. (Mod)Seagullag: Honestly being Draskian may have biased my opinion but explosions aren''t that impressive. The Silence: There is no need for loudness or flashiness. The greatest destruction is on the inside, silent and effective. Saray: Two explosions and two implosions then. MagicIsTragic: What about you Saray? Saray: I prefer there''d be no explosion or implosion at all. TechnoGogo: Killjoy. KillLaKrill: Come on, it isn''t we''re actually planning on blowing up something. Just tell us which one you think is more satisfying. The Silence: Silence is sweet but can be sadistic. MagicIsTragic: That means "talk". (Mod)Seagullag: No peer pressure! MagicIsTragic: Sorry. Look, it isn''t that hard. Do you prefer things to blow outwards or inwards? Saray: I guess... Implosion? It''s more destructive on the target but there''s less collateral damage. (Mod)Seagullag: Well I guess implosion wins then. 55-63-0: Explosion. MagicIsTragic: Uh, who''s this? (Mod)Seagullag: An old member of the forum, they just don''t talk much and I hadn''t seen them for a long time. I''m surprised they''re still alive actually. 55-63-0: Explosion. Saray: Are. Are they fine? 55-63-0: Explosion. (Mod)Seagullag: I think they''re a robot? Maybe a cyborg? Not sure but either way this is normal for them, don''t worry. KillLaKrill: Aren''t we supposed not to say anything about personal info? 55-63-0: Explosion. The Silence: It isn''t as though they were trying to hide their artificial nature, with their numerical alias and their limited speech pattern. 55-63-0: Explosion. Saray: Maybe they''re a troll? 55-63-0: 01000101 01111000 01110000 01101100 01101111 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 TechnoGogo: Yeah no, that seems like an old robot to me. Or a defective one, but I don''t judge. MagicIsTragic: Either way they voted for explosion! 55-63-0: EXPLOSION. TechnoGogo: Drats, still a tie then. Anyone else? JamesIsInTheDark: Uh, hi? KillLaKrill: Oooh, the new guy is back! TechnoGogo: Quick, tell us, explosion or implosion? JamesIsInTheDark: Well, what''s the context? MagicIsTragic: No context, only kabooms. JamesIsInTheDark: Well, I''d say it depends. For a movie or a show, explosions are more impressive, but in real life, implosions are more efficient. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. (Mod)Seagullag: I assume we all understood the question as in real life, so I''ll count that as a vote for implosion. The Silence: Ah, once more the darkness has claimed victory. Inner destruction cannot be equaled. MagicIsTragic: Curses! TechnoGogo: We''ll get them next time. KillLaKrill: Ah ha! You forgot I haven''t given my opinion yet! MagicIsTragic: Go Krill! TechnoGogo: Explosion! Explosion! 55-63-0: 01000101 01111000 01110000 01101100 01101111 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 The Silence: Let your inner despair sink in, you know its strength as it crushes your hopes, you know it is absolute. (Mod)Seagullag: No peer pressure! KillLaKrill: And my choice is... Saray: Please, no cliffhangers. KillLaKrill: Implosion! Sorry guys, marine life makes you numb to things going outwards. Suction on the other hand? That thing''s terrifying. 55-63-0: 01010100 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100001 00100000 01110011 01100001 01100100 00100000 01100100 01100001 01111001 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100111 01101100 01101111 01110010 01111001 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01100101 01111000 01110000 01101100 01101111 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 01110011 00101110 00100000 01000010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110010 01100101 01101001 01100111 01101110 00100000 01110011 01110101 01110000 01110010 01100101 01101101 01100101 00101100 00100000 01110011 01101111 01101111 01101110 00101110 MagicIsTragic: I think you broke them, Krill. (Mod)Seagullag: Techno, are they in danger? TechnoGogo: No, they''re still making sense. They''re just a little ominous. Saray: Thank the Nine. Ominous we can deal with, we''re used to Silence. The Silence: Do not confuse crude showmanship with the simple fact of understanding reality. KillLaKrill: As Saray said, ominous is fine. JamesIsInTheDark: Are you sure they''re fine? I''m not an expert but when computers start spouting binary, it usually means that something is broken no? TechnoGogo: Don''t worry, this kind of thing happens a lot with old robots and extreme cyborgs. The program they use to translate binary to regular speech gets glitchy when they get emotional and you get situations like these. Saray: By the way, it''s nice to see you again James! Did you go see the doctor about your Core? JamesIsInTheDark: No, but I''m back to full power. Things calmed down around here and everything''s fine now. KillLaKrill: Are you living alone? It''s recommended you always have someone nearby after an Awakening, just in case something goes wrong. JamesIsInTheDark: No, I''m with some people. I trust them. (Mod)Seagullag: Good to see you''re back. MagicIsTragic: Sorry for the last time, by the way. JamesIsInTheDark: It''s fine. MagicIsTragic: No, really, I''m sorry. Judging people for what they are? Not cool. JamesIsInTheDark: I forgive you. I mean, if everyone took to heart everything people told them on the internet, I''m pretty sure society would collapse. KillLaKrill: He''s got a point. TechnoGogo: See Magic? Everything''s fine. Saray: Still, thank you for making sure everything was fine! If you''re afraid you hurt someone, never hesitate to say sorry! TechnoGogo: Thank you, Captain Moral Lesson. No offense. Saray: Hey! KillLaKrill: She''s got a point. Honestly, I wouldn''t be surprised if you turned out to be a Hero. (Mod)Seagullag: No guessing important personal information! KillLaKrill: Whoops, sorry. MagicIsTragic: Aw, we almost got juicy stuff. TechnoGogo: Doesn''t Artifix preach privacy? MagicIsTragic: Yep, but he also preaches curiosity! KillLaKrill: By the way, isn''t he a god of technology? Why would YOU worship him? MagicIsTragic: He invented magical rocket launchers. KillLaKrill: Ah, I see. A compelling argument. Saray: He''s also one of the oldest known gods of creation, tinkering, and innovation. He inspired and designed many of the items we took for granted nowadays. TechnoGogo: I know that printing machines are important and stuff, but magical rocket launchers man. MagicIsTragic: He''s also not entirely technology-focused, most of his inventions are magical in one way or another. KillLaKrill: What about you, Techno? Who''s your god? TechnoGogo: None, I''m an atheist, my guy. JamesIsInTheDark: Might I ask what is your definition of atheist? Where I come from, it''s the term used to describe people who don''t believe in gods, as in most of them believe there is nothing. KillLaKrill: Whoa, people who think there are no gods? Weird. I mean, my neighbor is a demigod, hard to deny he exists. Saray: Not really. Some places don''t have any Super or godly presence, so nothing beyond simple mortality. (Mod)Seagullag: Or there''s the Draskian way. We think gods are just really strong Cored and that divinity is just a fancy way of calling the upper end of powers that people created. Hence, divinity is artificial. No "god" as most people in Zalcien think of them. TechnoGogo: Artificial divinity? Uh, that''s an interesting idea. Personally, I just don''t worship any god, although I think they exist. MagicIsTragic: So, who or what do you worship James? Considering you''re not from around here, I''m guessing it''s something we don''t know about. JamesIsInTheDark: Well, I guess I was what you''d call an agnostic, not enough proof to either deny or confirm the existence of a god so I just, lived my life. The Silence: Fascinating. 55-63-0: 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100101 01111000 01101001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01101110 01100011 01100101 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01100100 01101001 01110110 01101001 01101110 01101001 01110100 01111001 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110101 01101110 01100100 01100101 01101110 01101001 01100001 01100010 01101100 01100101 00101100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01110011 01100001 01111001 00100000 01101111 01110100 01101000 01100101 01110010 01110111 01101001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100110 01101111 01101111 01101100 01101001 01110011 01101000 00101110 00100000 01000011 01101000 01101111 01101111 01110011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100001 01110110 01101111 01101001 01100100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01101000 01101111 01110111 01100101 01110110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100001 01100100 01101101 01101001 01110010 01100001 01100010 01101100 01100101 00101110 00100000 01001110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01100101 01101110 01101111 01110101 01100111 01101000 00101100 00100000 01100010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01110011 01100001 01110100 01101001 01110011 01100110 01100001 01100011 01110100 01101111 01110010 01111001 00101110 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100111 01101111 01100100 01110011 00100000 01100100 01101111 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01100100 01100101 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01110000 01110010 01100001 01101001 01110011 01100101 00101110 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100000 01100100 01100101 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101001 01110100 01100001 01101110 01110011 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01100011 01100001 01110010 01100100 01100010 01101111 01100001 01110010 01100100 00101100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100000 01110010 01100101 01101100 01111001 00100000 01101111 01101110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01110111 01100101 01100001 01101011 01101110 01100101 01110011 01110011 01100101 01110011 00101100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01100100 01101111 01110101 01100010 01110100 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01110011 01110000 01100101 01110010 00101110 00100000 01001111 01101110 01100101 00100000 01100111 01101100 01101111 01110010 01101001 01101111 01110101 01110011 00100000 01100100 01100001 01111001 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100100 01101001 01110011 01100001 01110000 01110000 01100101 01100001 01110010 00101100 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01101111 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100100 01100001 01111001 00100000 01110111 01100101 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01110011 01110000 01100101 01110010 00101110 TechnoGogo: Nope, not reading that. MagicIsTragic: Oh come on, you''re the only one who knows binary! What did the creepy old robot say? TechnoGogo: Short sentences? Fine. This? This is an essay. This is absurd. Saray: Based on the little I know of coding, isn''t that actually pretty short? KillLaKrill: Are you just being lazy Techno? TechnoGogo: Whoops, gotta go. MagicIsTragic: Stop right there slothful scum! KillLaKrill: Don''t bother, I''m logging off too. MagicIsTragic: Aw. Saray: Me too. I have to go back to work. MagicIsTragic: Fine, I''m going too. Bye, everyone.
James joined in on the mass leaving - that was a mouthful. Seeing good old internet chatting had done wonders for his mental health, kinda like how watching cartoons with the ratings. It helped bring back some form of normality. He also learned some new stuff, which is always a nice plus. Really, the only odd thing was that 55-63-0 guy. Sapient robots had to be expected in this world, he had even seen some articles about it and one made a brief appearance in Captain Cyan''s show. Weird speech, ominous warnings, or even straight-up trolling were also to be expected on the internet, so although surprising seeing someone writing in binary wasn''t that odd. The weird part was that James had perfectly understood what 55-63-0 was writing. Chapter 29 : Silhouette in the tunnels James was wandering around in their little lair, pondering about the implications of his ability to read binary. I know for a fact I couldn''t do that before, so why can I now? What changed? Well, the most obvious answer would be... His body. His new body, the one he gained after reincarnating or whatever it was that he went through. The only possible answer was this. But what? And did this only apply to binary? Could it be that... Which language was he actually speaking? A quick search on the internet with a few different words from the languages he knew showed that yes, this translation applied to everything he read, as well as everything he listened to. In fact, this translation appeared to operate even when he was writing. He quickly found himself at a loss when he realized he could write an entire sentence in Portuguese despite knowing only a couple of words. And, after a few tries, he realized it also applied to speech. He wasn''t even aware of changing languages, it was only thanks to the ratlings'' remarks and his phone recording he realized it. In fact, he realized something even weirder. There are small differences between the languages I know from my last life and the ones this body knows. Small, insignificant stuff, but enough to be noticeable. Words that aren''t pronounced the same way, the exact shape of the letters, or even proper names. I should have realized it earlier really, when I did that research on gods, for example with Greece becoming Grellasia. Why did his body know all of these languages though? If he hadn''t woken up in the sewers he might have thought his body was... Artificial. What a silly thought. If someone spent time and effort making something, surely they wouldn''t have left it alone in the sewers, right where enormous monsters could have found and eaten it. Unless that thing had escaped, which meant it had a will, a will that had existed before James and he didn''t want to think about that. If his body had had a will before him, then... Where did that will go? Nope, I''m not going to think about it. Besides I don''t have the time to be paranoid, I have to go meet Barry and Larry. Or Larry and Barry? I should probably ask them. And so he went, distracting himself again from the inner turmoil that always plagued him whenever he thought about the mechanisms behind his new existence.
Larry and Barry walked down the sewer tunnels, again, and frankly, Barry disliked it very much. Were it not for their brand new boss he would have preferred never to see the sewers again after their latest stunt. At least this time he knew that their gun was useless. Not that he had gotten rid of it, mind you. A gun was a gun, even if it was defective, and most people in the slums knew better than to bet on whether or not a weapon was real. "So, what are we going to tell him?" "The latest news." "Which are?" "Larry, you know what they are. You were right next to me the entire time." "Fine, I just like how you explain things." "Larry... Fine, I''ll do the talking when we meet him." "Yeah!" Barry rolled his eyes. Honestly, what would Larry do without him? Not that Barry would do much without Larry. "So, do you think he''ll tell us his name this time?" "Maybe? I don''t know, why would he? He needs grunts, not conversation partners." "You don''t know that!" "I mean, sure, I don''t, but it seems really likely." Larry pouted, prompting another eye roll from Barry. This time they took care to properly look around them and stop every so often to listen to the noises that occasionally popped up. They didn''t want to get caught off-guard by another giant monster attack, thank you very much. One was more than enough. At least the path they had to take wasn''t that confusing, they had to mostly go straight ahead with only a couple of turns to left or right here and there. Their first encounter with their boss had occurred during their first exploration of the sewers, after all, and they had made sure to pick a path easy to remember and travel. Sadly for them, all of their checking around ultimately didn''t amount to much, judging by the fact that a weird mass suddenly dropped down from the ceiling right in front of them. Both of them nearly jumped out of surprise and fear, but Barry quickly gathered his senses. After all, they knew one formless mass of horror and it was exactly the person they needed to meet. "Oof, please boss, please don''t scare us like that. Larry and I aren''t used to things down here and it''d be really nice if you-" "Barry, that''s not the boss." "What?" Barry turned around and examined the mass more precisely. And that''s when he noticed it. He thought it had been black at first, but looking closer those were clothes. Leather clothes. Black leather clothes floating in a greyish slime with some darker things inside. "Soluble." The mass on the ground shifted and quickly took a humanoid form. "Barry, Larry." Both men turned around and tried to run away but out of nowhere a lizardman and a bipedal rat stepped in their path, blocking their escape. "Hi, guys!" "Ssso we meet again, idiotsss." Barry and Larry took a step back from the mutant pair, paying close attention to their claws and fangs as they whispered to each other. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. "Larry, how did you miss them?" "I told you before, Soluble''s weird. They just smell like chemicals and rot, nothing unique. And it''s strong enough to cover the other two''s." The lizardman rolled his neck, making a small popping sound as his bones settled in place. "Larry, Barry." "Mark, Jeffrey. How nice of you to drop by." "Oh, dropping by is more Soluble''s thing. Mark and I prefer to scurry along." The lizard nearly facepalmed before catching himself. Now was not the time for that. "So, Barry, Larry, now that Pete isn''t here to save your hides... How about we talk business, eh?" "Soluble, you know very well we don''t have the money-" "Oh really now? Why, I thought you had finally had some luck, and found an idiot to call your boss. Someone willing to hire you has to be stupid, after all." "And we heard you paid the Black Bank a little visit yesssterday, after our run-in." Barry narrowed his eyes. "Who told you about any of that?" The semi-solid leader of the band simply shrugged. "A little birdie told me." "She''s even an actual bird too!" "Jeffrey, shut up. Ssstay sssilent, forever." Soluble simply stared at their two friends-slash-underlings before getting back on track. "Anyway, as I was saying, you''re going to pay." "Well, okay, we have some money, but as you may have guessed we left it all at the Black Bank." "Oh Barry, you should know. I don''t trust any word that comes out of your filthy mouth. So, either you cough up our money now..." "Or I''ll have the pleasure of ssskinning the both of you alive, your blood freely flowing from patches of flesh left ssskinlesssss. It will be... My magnum opusss." "That seemed unnecessarily gory, Mark." "Jeffrey, sssilence is a virtue. It should be yours. I insssissst." "Will the both of you just SHUT UP!" The mutant pair looked at their slimy boss with widened eyes before falling into line, dropping into more battle-ready stances. "Now, as I said, give us our money. Now. No excuses." "I told you, we-" "No. Excuses. Unless maybe... Correct me if I''m wrong, but you''re the one with the brains, Barry, right? We probably won''t need Larry." "Don''t you dare!" "Oh, but I won''t. My friends on the other hand..." Mark and Jeffrey grinned menacingly - badly in the case of Jeffrey, but all parties involved chose to ignore this detail. As Soluble was about to keep on threatening the dastardly duo of Barry and Larry, a sound broke the silence of the sewers. A slow, sarcastic clap. "What an impressively clich¨¦ set of threats. Truly, I have never in my life met anyone who genuinely spoke this way. How wonderfully mediocre work." Mark and Jeffrey looked around, trying to find where this voice had come from. Soluble, on the other hand, saw how relieved Larry and Barry were to hear this voice. "You''re one to talk, mister sophisticated words. I''m guessing you''re the idiots'' new boss? Show yourself, coward." "I''m not the one who had to ambush their opponents." Soluble narrowed their eyes - or at least the slimy surface that they used to perceive sight. Right there, further down the tunnel, a humanoid silhouette had appeared and was approaching them. The silhouette was tall, not inhumanly so but enough to be remarkable. Their shoulders were weird, a bit too high, too wide and pointy, it felt... Unnatural. Soluble couldn''t get a good look at the face or the feet yet but there was no need to. "You''re not human, eh? That''s why you''re hiding down there? Afraid to be a freak? Pah, weakling. Don''t you get it? They must be afraid of you, not the other way around." "Who said I was afraid?" "I just did-" Something was off. What was it? Wait. The silhouette wasn''t here anymore. Jeffrey never stayed quiet this long. Soluble turned around, just in time to see Mark''s hand getting dragged by black tentacles in a narrow tunnel they hadn''t noticed until now. Jeffrey was nowhere to be seen, Barry and Larry, however... The pair of idiots they had tracked down the sewers was looking awfully smug, but also somewhat on edge. They knew what was going on, and as unsettling as it was they were glad it was happening. Soluble didn''t bother trying to save their underlings. Sure, Jeffrey and Mark had been their friends in a way, but they could easily be replaced by other, more competent underlings. Ones that weren''t incredibly stupid or obsessed with turning people into coats. Soluble''s own life, on the other hand, was very important. And what was the best way to guarantee someone wouldn''t kill you right where you stood? Hostages. Soluble rushed, their slimy body melting in some parts to make movement quicker while still making sure to entirely cover their black skeleton. Before either Barry or Larry had the time to react, Soluble already had their arms wrapped around their necks... At least they thought so until black tentacles threw their arms off. Soluble took a few steps backs, pushing energy into their slimy mass to amp up its acidity. As the leather of their clothes began to bubble and sizzle, Soluble finally got a good look at their opponent. To say they weren''t human was an understatement, at least Soluble had a skeleton, but this thing... This thing looked like a living shadow, rising straight from the ground, somehow present and solid yet not fully there, as though it could disappear in a blink of an eye. Good thing they didn''t need to blink. "What the hell are you." "Oh, just someone with a lot of free time. You, on the other hand, have a fascinating constitution. Is that acidic slime? I''ll assume the skeleton is yours, and this is the result of a mutation. A Body Aspect, then." "Oh, you think I''m fascinating? Go ahead, try to touch, I insist." "So it is acidic. Or maybe basic? Impossible to be sure without a sample and the appropriate equipment." "Leave me alone and I won''t burn your face off." "Oh, I''m sorry to say there isn''t much to burn there. Besides, you''re the one who attacked my employees. As their employer, it''s my duty to ensure their safety and survival." "I''m not afraid of you." "Oh, really?" The dark creature sprouted dozens of tentacles out of nowhere. "Let''s see if you have what it takes to back up your bravado."
I have absolutely no idea of what''s happening. James hadn''t expected his meeting with Barry and Larry to start with a fight. Alright, in all honesty, he wouldn''t have been surprised if they had been attacked by some kind of monster but not people. Especially not a rat person, a lizard person, and a slime person. According to their little banter, his two helpers knew the trio of mutants, although their relationship didn''t seem that friendly. Go figure. He had tried to make things easier for him by distracting the one who was clearly the boss and the most dangerous so that he could take out the other two discreetly and quickly. They hadn''t expected tentacles to pop up out of the ground - or more accurately a shadow on the ground - and to bind and gag them. Luckily for James, it appeared their powers if they had any were purely physical, which meant making it impossible for them to move pretty much neutralized them. He still took the time to bash their skull against the ground, for good measure, and so that he wouldn''t have to keep them out of commission during his fight with the leader. Fighting while holding a pair of deadweight seemed like a bad idea, for some reason. James made sure to keep track of Larry and Barry''s retreat down the tunnel where he had stored the other two ruffians'' unconscious bodies as he took in his opponent''s appearance and began to strategize. Frankly, he didn''t want to touch acid if he could help it, but his arsenal was severely lacking in long-range attacks. "Once I''m done punching you out of existence I''ll make sure to take my time melting down these two idiots." "What is your grievance with them, exactly? You didn''t make that clear." "They destroyed our home with a pack of deadly monsters!" "... Ah. I see why you are doing this then." I''m starting to think hiring these two wasn''t such a good idea... "At least you''re not as stupid as them, then." I''m going to ignore that. Still, I can''t exactly let him go, he would probably just track them down and try to kill them again... What to do, what to do... "You were looking for a peaceful solution earlier, were you not? Here is my offer, you leave at once with your two friends and never bother my employees again. In exchange, I''ll make sure they won''t trouble you anymore. If they do, I''ll pay for any damage caused. I could even offer compensation for past grievances if you are willing to talk things out." "Eh, too late big boy. I''m going to beat you up and take my money." "I see." James pulled out the gun he had infused with shadows in the past from his body and aimed. "Here is another offer." "Ah! A gun? Those are useless against slime-" James fired. The bullet flew. It entered Soluble''s body. And Soluble turned black. Chapter 30 : The birth of a legend James fired his shadow-infused gun, and the bullet flew in the air before lodging itself in Soluble''s chest. The grey slimy humanoid simply chuckled, before they fell completely silent. They looked down and gazed at their chest, a black spot had appeared where the bullet had entered and it was spreading. Barry and Larry couldn''t believe their eyes. Oh, they had begun to flee down the tunnel, of course, but everything had gone so fast they were still present through the entire encounter and seeing that their boss had pulled out a gun had frozen them in their tracks. The last time they saw him fight something he had used strange tactics that mostly relied on physical contact and surprise attacks, but here he was, doing something entirely different. Their eyes widened as the black mass that had invaded Soluble''s torso grew within seconds, the surrounding slime bubbling and sizzling, as though the mutant''s body was trying to fight off some kind of infection - which it probably was, now that Barry thought about it. The person they had learned to fear throughout their late adult life, one of the strongest mutants they knew that wasn''t part of a gang, had fallen on the ground and was rolling in pain, screaming in such a high-pitched manner that their teeth hurt. Such a dangerous foe, reduced to nothing with a single attack... Had their boss been playing around with those two monsters the other day? Was this his true strength? What had they gotten themselves into? "What''s... What''s happening to them?" Barry turned around and saw Larry''s face. He wasn''t terrified of what was happening, only confused and nervous. Barry knew him well enough that it wasn''t hard to know why, Larry may have been disturbed by Soluble''s fate but he trusted their boss enough to be sure he wouldn''t harm them. How Barry wished he had his confidence. Their boss moved, but not in the way he expected. He thought he would maybe turn around, either to talk to them or get rid of witnesses, but instead, he somehow opened his chest and pocketed his gun within his own body. His chest closed, leaving not even a seam behind. Not that Barry could have seen it, considering their boss'' strange physique. "In truth, I myself am not sure." "What?"
"What''s... What''s happening to them?" That''s a very good question. James wasn''t sure how to answer Larry''s question. Should he say the truth? That this was the first time he fought against someone sapient and the first time he used a gun he had randomly inserted magical energies into? Uh, maybe not this way but, with some more polish... James stowed the gun away as he thought up the best way to keep his persona intact while not seeming like a demented maniac. "In truth, I myself am not sure." "What?" Barry''s follow-up question was as predicted. "This weapon is a prototype I recently finished. I had yet to find the time to test it." "You brought an untested weapon to a fight and used it?" "Yes, this is a summary of the words I said." "Why? Why did you do this?" "In case I would need it, of course. You cannot doubt its efficacy." Soluble screeched as they tried to rip off all of their slime that had been affected by James'' bullet, the discarded black goopy mass fighting back to stay attached and corrupt the rest of the body further. "Yeah..." "In any case, please avoid provoking any further incident with otherwise neutral entities. I won''t always be present to save you." "Yeah... Sure, boss..." "Is something bothering you Barry? Apart from the sight before us of course." "Well, it''s just... Larry and I aren''t the most irreplaceable guys around, you know? If anything, I thought you would have taken them instead." "Oh, there is no need to worry about that, I would never hire such reckless fools. If someone goes to the bank after earning a large sum of money, it''s usually to make a deposit, never attack someone who is trying to negotiate, and never assume your opponent''s weapon can''t harm you. And all of that is without even taking into account their questionable morality. No, they would make terrible employees." "Ah... Glad to hear that, boss..." Soluble screamed once more, their body bending in ways that would be impossible for a human - and, considering what James could see of the state their skeleton, even the slimy humanoid would probably avoid. "Uh... Do you know how long they''re gonna stay like this?" James looked at the mess that his would-be attacker had become. It would probably be for the best to put an end to their torture, not that he knew exactly how to. Well, he had an idea. As unpleasant as it may be to admit, just like he could vaguely sense what was happening around items he had infused, he had a connection to the spreading corruption that had infected Soluble. He could feel through it and, if he really focused, he guessed he could probably control it. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. "Not much longer." James approached the convulsing monstrosity he had partially created and knelt, or more accurately, lowered his body by diving halfway into his shadow. He formed a tentacle and touched the black mass that was still struggling to gain control of Soluble, mentally sending it a single order. Seize. The black mass froze. James sent it a few more orders before Soluble''s acidic nature destroyed it. Dig. Infiltrate. Resist. Hide. The mass rumbled before suddenly going inwards, going straight to Soluble''s black bones instead of trying to spread through his slimy body. In a blink of an eye it had disappeared and, as James suspected, the acid stopped affecting it. It didn''t take a genius to guess that a solid mass in an acidic solution was probably immune to said solution''s properties. From an outsider''s perspective, Soluble''s body seemed perfectly fine, which was enough for James to be satisfied with the operation. Soluble stopped moving, going completely still and silent. Honestly, if James didn''t have a small part of him inside of them thanks to his infusion he would probably think they were dead. "Is... Is Soluble dead?" "No, Larry. They are still alive, merely neutralized. It''ll probably take some time for them to recover and be out and about, but I cannot say how long with certainty." "Oh, alright boss. Thanks for the explanation!" Barry looked down at the unconscious Soluble with uncertainty. "So... What now?" "Well, you were supposed to inform me about the current ongoing of the slums." "Right, but uh... What about them?" "I must admit I am unsure. Do they have any ties to any group? Friends or allies we should be worried about?" "No, nothing. Those three are loners. If anything I''m sure people would be glad to be rid of them." "I see. Do they have the resources to potentially harm us and become a genuine threat?" "I don''t think so. We, uh, kinda destroyed their base a short while ago. Even then they didn''t have much, to begin with." "So, there are no drawbacks to sparing them but also none to disposing of them. Well, this certainly isn''t making things any easier." Frankly, James didn''t want to kill them. Killing toads and bugs was one thing, people were another, even if they had attacked Larry and Barry first and had the intention to kill them. He didn''t mind fighting them, although it had been his first hostile encounter with a sapient since reincarnating, as they were clearly used to beatings, on both sides of the thing to boot. Plus you should never hesitate to fight someone trying to kill you, honestly. Well, I did shoot them with a gun. He''d argue that was different but thinking about it, it really wasn''t. In fact, now that he took the time to ponder, he didn''t actually mind killing, so far as it was justified. It wasn''t needed to get rid of the lizardman and the bipedal rat, so he didn''t. For the slime leader, on the other hand, it was the safest and most effective solution. Again, you didn''t need to be smart to know that using melee against acid was a bad idea. This makes me think I should probably try to figure out some kind of ranged attack. Guns are good but they have limited ammunition, you need to recharge them but you also need to make the bullets in the first place. Plus, there are probably tons of ways of bulletproofing stuff in a world like this one. Well, more esoteric means of damage may have ways to be prevented too but I hope it''s cheaper to protect against bullets than fireballs. All of that to say, James would kill an opponent if necessary, but defenseless idiots he had already beaten into submission? He didn''t feel comfortable with that. "What do you two think?" "Wait, you want our opinion?" "Yes, that is the implication of my question." "Sorry, I just... Didn''t think you''d want it. Uh." Larry played with his goatee before coming up with an idea. "We could bring them to Pete and tell him what they tried to do." "I dunno Larry, it kinda seems like a bad idea to leave them alive. People with grudges are always bad news." "Yeah, but Pete will notice. And he''ll ask questions. And look at them, the boss beat them so quickly they couldn''t even attack! They''re probably scared of him now." James liked where this train of thought was going. "Oh? Could you elaborate Larry?" "If they''re scared of you, then they''ll be scared of what you''d do if they attacked us again!" "Larry, that''s a stupid idea." "No no Barry, Larry has a point. Have you ever heard of mutually assured annihilation? It''s the idea that, if both sides of a conflict are guaranteed to destroy each other, then they''ll be too scared to actually start a conflict. In this equation, you two and those three are the conflicting parties..." "And you''re the assured annihilation?" "For them. Assured annihilation for them. If they ever try to harm you again that is." "I dunno boss, ruling by fear never works..." Ah, normally I''d agree my dear Barry. Fear alone is never enough of a motivator to get people to comply since with enough time and resources it''ll grow into a desire for revenge. In this case, however, I got a special little trick... James felt the shadows pulsing within Soluble''s bones. "I have my methods." "If you say so, boss." "Don''t worry, Barry. Besides, this isn''t ruling since these aren''t my people. It''s only good neighborly relationships." "Sure thing, boss..." "Now then, about this report..."
A few hours later, Mark and Jeffrey left the sewers while dragging Soluble''s still unconscious form, taking care to only touch the parts that were still covered in leather. It was only after walking through a few alleyways that their fearsome leader began to stir, groaning as they woke, surprising their two underlings who promptly dropped them. "OW! Watch it you... Ugh... What the hell happened and why do I feel like I got run over by a train?" "Soluble! You''re fine!" "What an unexpected sssurprise. I thought you''d ssstay out cold for longer." "We thought you were dead!" "No, Jeffrey thought you were dead. I knew that if you were dead your ssslime would have dissolved. You ssstayed too sssolid for death. A coma, maybe." "Again, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?" "Well, remember how we decided to ambush Larry and Barry after what Lucia told us?" "Yeah." "When we went there, we found them. The problem is, they were meeting sssomeone. Their new bosssss." Suddenly it hit them. Memories came back to Soluble, their meeting with the dark figure, how easily he got rid of Mark and Jeffrey, how they had denied his attempts at negotiation and... And... He had pulled out a gun. And everything went dark. Their slime shuddered, something that rarely happened. Whatever this shadow had done, Soluble''s very being refused to remember it. "... Yeah, I remember now." "Really? Could you tell us what their boss is like?" "Why, didn''t you see him?" "Well, we knew they were going to meet him and once we were there something knocked usss out without killing usss. It was easy math." "BUT we didn''t see him. I remember something grabbing me and dragging me down a tunnel before hitting me against the wall, but I never got to look at it. Same goes for Mark." "He was... I don''t know." ""What?"" Soluble surprised themself. They got a good look at this boss but, now that there was no adrenaline to cloud their judgment, the things they saw didn''t make sense. It was... "It was like a shadow given form. Visible yet not truly there. Clearly defined yet incomprehensible. It was... It was..." Mark and Jeffrey unconsciously got closer, captivated by their leader''s words. "It was?" Unknown to all, something else listened to the conversation. A little something, hidden within black bones. "It''s like it was only a silhouette." Chapter 31 : The weather outside "And those... Blood Angels, they have a monopoly over the distribution of drugs?" "Nah, not all drugs. Any guy who knows his stuff can make some. No, what they have is Red Dust. Or Scarlet Sugar. Or whatever name they came up with to sell some more to idiots once the last name got too much of a bad rep." James had left Soluble and their two knocked-out underlings in a side tunnel where he had noticed there was no wildlife, at least none that was dangerous to people, and was finally discussing the ongoing of the slums with Barry and Larry. "What are the effects of this drug?" "Oh you know, the usual. It makes you feel good, gets rid of stress, the works. At least those are the ones they advertise. It also makes you violent, makes you see everything in red and it ruins your body. Larry and I knew a guy, really nice but kinda dumb, a mutant. He could heal from a lot, like, once I saw a Sickler rip off his head and the next week he was back on his feet. Well, one of his friends began to take Red Dust. He proposed some to the mutant and everything was fine at first. Then his body began to groan. Turns out, he was actively regenerating whenever he got some of this trash inside." "How long did it take?" "Maybe a year? He got hooked on the stuff and took it whenever he could, but at one point his body''s regeneration couldn''t keep up anymore. He grew thinner and weaker every day until he stopped walking, then moving, then breathing. It took a day after that for him to truly kick the bucket." "He spent an entire day as a breathless husk before he finally met his end?" "Yeah, and it wasn''t pretty." "I fail to see how selling a product that kills its consumers is a viable practice." "Well, the Angels aren''t the sharpest tool in the shed. Besides, it worked for the last decade, why change things now?" "Oh! Barry, don''t forget about the rumors!" "Ah, yeah. Some people say that Red Dust can be refined into something safer to use but it''s more costly, so only big shots can even buy it. I mean, it''s not impossible, but I''m sure someone would have figured out a way to do it by now." "I see..." So, it''s not unlike Earth''s drug scene. The worst stuff is sold out to your average junkie while the products that are the least likely to kill you are available only to rich guys, either other gang leaders or businessmen or the like. They should be easy to predict. "And they are the most active group?" "Well, not exactly. The Hivines are way more active in the main city but in the slums, they don''t do much. Wicked Witchcraft pops up from time to time but they mostly do their own thing, usually in the city too. The same goes for the Empress. So yeah, the Blood Angels are the most active, but only in the slums. Even then, it''s only because they interact with regular folks the most, I''m sure the others are always up to something in their lairs." "Thank you for your input. How dangerous would you say they are?" "The Hivines I don''t know, the cultists are weak but there''s a ton of them and if the Biflora can survive an encounter with Abrakaboom I''m sure he has a few tricks up his sleeve. Wicked Witchcraft is a mixed bunch, Abrakaboom is the most well-known one but they have a few others that give the Union some trouble. The Empress is both a celebrity and a mystery, everyone knows her but no one knows how strong she is. We only know about her robots, none of them is unique but they all pack a punch. Honestly, I''d say she and the Biflora aren''t groups but just Villains with tons of underlings, but hey, if that''s enough to contend with an entire illegal cabal of mages then what do I know." "You forgot the Angels, Barry!" "I was getting to it, Larry. The Angels are more like Wicked Witchcraft, they have a few big shots instead of a single one, as well as a bunch of Cored who act as leaders for the regular thugs. Moonfreeze isn''t a warrior but she''s cunning, she rarely leaves their base and usually, that''s enough to fend off most intruders. Sunburn is famous for probably being the strongest Super in Zalcien, so avoid dealing with him. Finally, you got Marcus, who... Well, there is a reason why he''s the boss instead of the other two. A bloody good reason." "Thank you for your explanation Barry, but what I meant to ask is how likely they are to pose a direct threat to us, as in, how likely they are to be hostile." "Oh, that. Not much. The Hivines try to recruit first and foremost, if you say no they''ll only try another day. Wicked Witchcraft is mostly a bunch of independent cells so maybe one will try to start things up but the rest tends to keep them in check. Apart from her... Harvesting, the Empress leaves the little people alone. The Angels don''t really care, as long as you don''t attack them first or try to ruin their business they''ll leave you alone." "Ah, that is good to know. And in case of a conflict, what are their usual methods?" "The Hivines and the Empress just send a bunch of minions, Wicked Witchcraft will give a warning or two before blowing their way to your base, and the Blood Angels usually send thugs, though Sunburn can show up if they want to send a message, like today." "What do you mean by that?" "Uh, you haven''t been outside today have you?"
Sunburn looked up at the sky, taking his time to truly appreciate the cigarette he was smoking, set into the hole in the mask he had asked for straws and the like to compensate for his lack of lips. Behind him, some random thugs that guarded the closest Angel hideout took in the spectacle before them with fear, clearly too used to the relative calm of the Black Block''s surroundings. Right in front of him what used to be the base of his latest targets was burning, the flames reaching higher than any other building in the area could ever hope to. The screams had stopped long ago, but his poor aids were still shaken. Pah, they would learn. They all did. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. High into the sky, a column of black smoke rose from the inferno he had caused and tainted the pure blue above. It wasn''t the only one, either. He had been at it for the better part of the day so far, dozens of locations in the slums turning into fire and ashes that no one could miss. When the Blood Angels sent a message, they made sure everyone listened. The insignia on his chest vibrated once then twice before he got to unhook it and place it near his mouth, Moonfreeze''s annoyingly peppy voice invading his ear, filled with radio static. "Sooo, how is it going sunshine?" "The Bunny Biters are no more. All seventeen members are accounted for and I made sure nothing could survive the flame." "What about the teleporting one?" "Teleportation is useless with a broken neck." "Oooh, fancy!" "Do you have anyone else you need to be incinerated today?" "Yeah, the Horrid Hoppers. They''re the last guys on the list and, lucky you, they live right next to the headquarters!" "How many does that make now?" "What, getting old? Can''t remember the number of things you burn sunny?" "I burned two hundred and fifty-two people today, all located in a total of thirty-eight buildings. What I''m asking is how many gangs had the gall to try and double-cross us?" "Uh, I''d expected more. Nineteen gangs, by the way." "This isn''t good. One or two idiots who get in charge and decide that making an enemy out of the local big boss happens, but nineteen? They aren''t afraid anymore." "Oh, don''t be like that. They probably thought you''d spend some more time behind the bars and-" "Moonfreeze, this isn''t normal. We know now that a total of six warehouses got tricked by those fake Xerins, that''s too many. Incompetence is a thing but it isn''t that widespread, at least not in the same way at the same time." "Your opinion?" "A new mastermind wannabe showed up, or we have a traitor." "Whoa, avoid the t-word. You don''t want Marcus to hear that kind of thing." "Yes, our dear leader doesn''t need to know about our suspicions. Still, you cannot deny that is the most logical explanation." "Yeah. It would also fit in with the lost cargo." "Lost cargo?" "We were missing some Red Dust in the latest drop-off. Not much, not enough to garner a fight, but a smart guy could use it to trade with shady merchants, ones who think they''re dealing with an idiot." "People willing to sell materials to make fake money with. Only an idiot would try to counterfeit Xerins, they are too easy to identify, which means fakes are cheap to make." "Bingo. Now our smart guy has fake money, gangs who want to buy our stuff, and a plan. They directly pay him, only half the price or something like that and in exchange, he puts his fake stuff in our warehouses to bamboozle our guys. He gets money, the gangs get Dust and we look like idiots." "Any name comes to mind?" "No one. Our smarty-pants needs to be clever and frankly, most of our guys are as dumb as can be. The only ones I would call intelligent are smart enough to realize how stupid going against us is." "So either he''s faking being dumb or one of the known smart ones grew overconfident. I''ll keep an eye out, but I leave the heavy lifting to you." "Sunburn, you lazy cybernetic sloth! You can''t just leave everything to me!" "My job is to burn things and scare people. You''re the brain of the operation here, do your thing." Had he still had lips he probably wouldn''t have been able to stop himself from smiling as he heard her begin to rant just as he hung up his insignia. Ah, youth. Sometimes you needed to remind them that just because you like to be meticulous they did not have the freedom to always rely on you. He let his thoughts wander as he once more focused on enjoying his cigarette, ignoring the blazing inferno before him and the dozens of columns of smoke he had created today.
"Oh. That doesn''t sound good." "Yeah, that''s the Angels for you. They don''t like people messing with them. I heard this time it''s because they found out a bunch of gangs paid them with fakes? Not sure, but it''s safe for the rest of us. Probably." "Well, thank you for your time and all of your explanations. You are free to go now. Could you perhaps come back Sunday, to report on the latest news and receive your next pay?" "Oh, yeah, no problem, we''ll be there boss!" "Good, good. Well then, off you go." "Bye boss!" "Goodbye, Larry." James watched them as they left, quickly making sure there wasn''t any loose monster around before going back home. He had learned a lot today about the local big powerhouses and honestly, he was pleasantly surprised. He expected a city in a constant state of civil war between monsters that could destroy mountains but no, everything seemed pretty balanced. The really powerful people knew that there wasn''t much to gain in fighting each other and so mostly spent their efforts on their projects. Apart from fights with justice and the Hero Union of course, because they were still Villains whose projects involved a lot of people being hurt for them to gain some benefits. Again, not that far off from real gangs on Earth. The really big ones knew that full-blown wars weren''t good for anyone, so they had fragile truces. I guess in the end, superpowers are just another type of weapon? At least now he knew they''d probably leave him alone as long as he didn''t make too much trouble, which luckily he didn''t plan to. After getting home and spending some time with the ratlings, James decided to try something new. So far his perception had relied on his weird domain-thing, which allowed him to sense everything in a certain radius around him, but he had noticed he could focus to perceive things through items he had infused, such as the black brick of the lair, his gun or the newly affected bones of that weird slime person. After his encounter with said acidic humanoid, he had realized he needed to explore his powers to hopefully find a way to attack from range instead of melee and maybe exploring his perception of infused items could help. James focused and completely cut off his domain, instantly plunging him into a white void in which nothing existed. So far, it was pretty close to just closing his eyes, just with an inverted color scheme. Then, he focused on everything besides his domain. Right away a big black hollow block appeared in the void and he could faintly sense everything around and inside it, not as well as he would with his regular domain but enough to recognize which ratling was which and what they were seeing. It took him some moments to get used to this perception of things even more disconnected than his regular domain before he could go on with his experiment. He tried to move his body while still only using this infusion vision, and the results were... Ok. Very clumsy and ridiculous but it worked. An unknown amount of minutes spent doing nothing but trying again and again improved his movement enough to be passable, and during that time he noticed that there was another bubble of perception, one further away from the rest. One that was vaguely humanoid. In a blink of an eye, he was there, just in time to witness the slime person - Soluble he learned - wake up and berate their underlings as they all began to share their memories of their encounter with him. The things that were said weren''t always flattering but at least he was glad his persona worked. Out of sheer curiosity, he stuck to them, watching and listening as they went on about their day, surprised by the dozens of columns of black smoke in the sky but quickly getting over it. They met with a few people, robbed some, paid others, and just chatted with the rest. James couldn''t help but have a mental wince every time they brought up their meeting with him, calling him "the silhouette in the sewers". What kind of name was that? It was like the name of a boss monster in a video game that closed off a series of quests about weird disappearances. Not that the core idea was bad, in fact, he kinda liked "silhouette". It was a pretty fitting name, people would only see the bare minimum of him without getting to know the person inside. They would see the facade, the persona, not the real him, not James. Plus it sounded cool. That was a very good thing to have for a name. Hence, as he witnessed Soluble, Mark and Jeffrey retell their tale once more in a dilapidated bar completely drunk, he cemented his decision. From now on, his persona would be Silhouette. Besides, it wasn''t like many people would hear about it, right? Chapter 32 : Planning ahead "Well, what do you think?" "Cool." "Very nice." "Maybe scary?" "Goliath, scary good." Back in his lair with the ratlings, James had tried to improve his humanoid form''s appearance. Before they left to go back to their home, he had interrogated Larry and Barry about the dangers of the surface. Their answers weren''t what he hoped for but better than he expected. After a good while spent pondering while the ratlings watched cartoons, he decided that he couldn''t spend his entire life down in the sewers. Or, well, theoretically he could but it wasn''t the life he envisioned. Granted, he hadn''t been prepared to become a shadowy mass of whatever in a world straight out of a comic book but hey, life always catches you by surprise. Like his death. The plan was simple. First, he had scouted the sewers, again. This time he carefully checked every entrance and exit, making sure to remember where they were, which paths were the best to go from to another, and finally, maybe the most important part, where they led on the surface. Unsurprisingly the answer was almost always "a run-down alleyway". Well, that wasn''t exactly the truth. Most openings, such as sewer grids and some manholes, led to what might have once been a regular street. The problem here was the term "once". The roads were still usable but they were incredibly damaged, the pavement looking more like the rocky ground of ancient ruins than the pavement of a modern city. The sidewalks were no better, covered in trash and improvised extensions to the surrounding buildings, buildings that more often than not had been destroyed and were now repaired with scraps and odd ends. James was still shocked by the sight of a house made out of bricks at its base, then metal plates, then wooden poles linked by netting. Anyone could see what the people at the top were doing, which probably was just watching over their surroundings judging by the woman with goggles James had seen. To complete the streets'' sad style, platforms had been set up between many buildings, including bridges that crossed the streets and left the roads in a sinister shade more often than not. Really, the surface looked more like a bunch of improvised post-apocalyptic fortresses set up next to each other than an actual place within a city. If he had to hazard a guess, James would say that having superpowers probably made gang wars even more destructive than they already were, but also gave some of the regular folks a fighting chance in some situations. A bunch of guys with guns wasn''t as intimidating when you were made out of jello, based on an encounter he had spied on. Seeing the state of the slums let James know that, for the near future, keeping their home in the sewers was probably for the best. Sure, they were tons of dangerous creatures, but they were just animals. They worked alone or in small packs and stuck to their territories. People? People were far too unpredictable to live near right now. Not that he would give up on living in a society, no, but it would be better if it was in a safe neighborhood, or a place where no one had the means to threaten him and the ratlings. So, why would he go to the surface if it was in such a state of disrepair and so potentially dangerous? Well, there was a simple, clear, and understandable answer: he was bored. The Internet, sadly, lost some of its appeal when you were an affront to the laws of nature and you had no clue about the pop culture of the world you resided in. There was also the fact that after what he experienced, sitting all day along behind a screen lost its charm. Plus, it didn''t feel right to live right next to this massive unknown, he needed to investigate and study it if only a little. Hence the current situation: he was trying to design a suitable humanoid form for surface exploration. His current humanoid form wasn''t that great, it was basically a head on a torso that became a tail that went into the ground where it became a puddle of darkness. Practical, simple, and comfortable. The problem was that it was too simple. Right now he was trying something different yet similar, he had kept the whole head and torso and tail approach but with some modifications, the tail didn''t go straight into the ground where a puddle formed but instead widened into a flat foot, making him look like he was emerging from a pool of tar. He had also added some shoulders, they rose above his neck before falling back to join it, making his torso look like an arrowhead. As for his actual head, he had reworked it to give it a pointer chin, to make it feel more natural than his old pure oval shape. "You think it''s scary Goliath?" "Looks like bad guy from Captain Cyan." "Yeah, so cool." "David, dad is no bad guy." "Well, I can''t deny the pointy chin and spiky shoulders combo isn''t the most friendly thing..." James lowered the shoulders, they were still like spiky pauldrons but less evil ones. He removed the pointy chin, going back to an oval head. "Hmm... Foot''s weird." "Father, arms?" "Ah, you are right. Sprouting tentacles in the middle of a crowd probably isn''t a good idea." To hide the spot where his body turned into a shadow to stick to the ground, James created a bunch of tentacles to cover it as well as to serve as his arms. He made six for now, enough to properly hide everything as well as to do most things he might need hands to do. In case he needed more he could always create new ones and use his weird texture as an excuse as to why no one had spotted them before, his weird anatomy making his body too dark to see them. "What about this?" "Looks good." "Very nice!" "Shame. Evil was nicer." "Fitting." "Good, but... Why not go human?" Blanche''s words hit James like a truck. He had been so used to being a blob of darkness that he forgot he could make an actually humanoid body, with legs and arms and fingers. "It''s because... An actual human, no matter how weird they may look, wears clothes. I have none." "Why not ask the two?" "Larry and Barry? That''s because... If I ask them for clothes, they will assume I need them." Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "And?" "And if they assume I need them... They will assume I have a person with me?" "And?" "And... I''ve got nothing. Alright, alright, I forgot, ok? I was more preoccupied with the possible threats surrounding us than with what I could ask them to buy. I''ll think about it next time." "Silly Papa." "Father, why not buy now?" "That''s... Also a very good point. I prefer to stick to Larry and Barry buying things for now, though. I don''t know anything about the local economy and I don''t want to be seen as an easy target for thieves and scammers." "Scammers too?" "Yes, they''re scammers too, but they''re my scammers now. Anyone with half a brain would prefer to create trust with someone that wants to regularly give them money, especially if they''re replaceable and their current job won''t be necessary for the long term." "What." "I need them right now because I can''t buy stuff myself, both because I do not look like a person and because I don''t know how people buy and sell stuff here. Right now we''re getting the person part covered, but in a few months, I''ll know how the economy works here. So, in a few months, I won''t need Larry and Barry - at least not as much as I do now. It would be better for them for me to grow attached to them and keep them around since I pay them. Hence, in the long term, it''s better not to scam me." "Smart. Are they?" Ah. Lucille makes a very valid point. "Maybe, maybe not. You can''t predict everything. How will people act is always a mystery, it''s why no plan''s perfect." "Which plan?" "First, we get the bare necessities. Then, we improve our equipment. Then, we expand our operations and secure this area of the sewers why." "Why?" "A larger territory means more available space for defenses, in other words, we could handle future threats before they''re at our front door. It would also secure a safe passage for Larry and Barry and any person we might want to deal with in the future." "More territory? Patrols?" "Yes, you are correct, a bigger territory means we will need to keep watch on it. Luckily for us, I know a pack of rats that would love to be employed..." "So taking over sewers?" "No, far from it. The sewers are massive, they run through an entire city. Even just the area under is incredibly large, and there is no doubt a bunch of apex predators who already settled down everywhere. Like, say, a massive scarred crocodile." "Surface?" "Maybe. I''d love to be able to live under the sun again but it might be too dangerous. First, we secure a part of the sewers and then we''ll look up, alright?" ""Yes!"" Oh, they''re adorable. But yeah, they are way too many things on the surface to even think about occupying some of it right now. I could go into a house and kick out whoever''s living inside but the local gangs would be alerted and see this as a hostile takeover, and I don''t think I''m ready to deal with that yet. Soluble and their two idiots are one thing, but they were a single group, it was just the three of them. Plus I kinda cheated to deal with Soluble, so I have no idea how dangerous they actually were. "Anyway, now that the idea of exploring the surface with a truly humanoid form is on the table I think I''ll just wait for those two to come back. I mean, I like this form, but a simple black humanoid with clothes would probably be more discrete than... Me." The ratlings nodded. They loved their father but he was undeniably weird, even compared to the stuff that showed up in Captain Cyan. "So... Nothing to do... Who wants to train?" "Tinkering to do." "Just finished grooming." "Just came back from hunt." "Would prefer hunt. Kill things." "No point training alone." "..." "..." "..." "Would Captain Cyan skip a day of training?" "Yes." "Episode 23." "Resting Rose." "Very nice." "Meh, villain weak." "You know what? Fine. No training for you today. But, no phone either." "No!" "Please!" "No. You all have things to do, don''t you? Therefore you won''t need it, whereas I have a few things to take care of." The small sapient rodents grumbled as they left to each do something, since someone had made sure they wouldn''t be able to watch Captain Cyan. You know, I actually need the phone if we''re not training right now. Not that I have to justify myself of course. They can''t just spend their days watching a show if they want to become superheroes. Not that I''m comfortable with letting them fight actual villains and not just toads and cockroaches either but if that''s what they want, I''ll help them. And hey, if it just happens so that only weak thugs hang around the area for some reason, like all the strong guys disappearing in the shadows of the slums, it''s all for the better. James chuckled. Oh, he had no plan on becoming a superhero or a vigilante or even a villain, but he had to train and study this world if he wanted to get stronger. Strong enough to make sure the ratlings would follow their dreams free of danger. Strong enough to make sure none of those maniacs in spandex or mechanical armor will threaten their home and their little family. I''m going to look for ways to improve my powers, but first thing first, let''s go see these rats. James left the lair, leaving behind him five disgruntled rat children.
The pack wandered in the sewers, looking for things to eat. Their negotiations with the shadow had failed, it didn''t want them. Some had rejoiced, others had cried. The old one listened to what everyone had to say, but kept his thoughts to himself. The negotiations may have failed but the shadow had no plan to hurt them, this was already more than they could have hoped for from any other ruler of the tunnels. Something was wrong. The old one noticed it first, experience and wisdom had birthed a wonderful instinct that right now was screaming at him. They were being observed. Studied. Yet he did not panic, for the gaze of their stalker held no bloodlust, no hunger, no thirst. "You were harder to find than I expected." The shadow. It had come back. It had been looking for them. Did it change its mind? "I wanted to talk with you, but first, may you be so kind as to satisfy my curiosity? You seem incredibly intelligent, all of you, more than should be normal for a rat. Why?" The old one furrowed his brows. How could he explain? What could he- "Oh, I''m sorry, I forgot about the language barrier. There is no point in explaining what I can''t understand. Yet." Oh, good. "You see, I thought back about your offer. After intense reflection, I decided to accept it - with some rules of my own, if you would be willing." The old one nodded while caressing his beard with his right front paw, the only one of the pair he had left. They needed the shadow''s protection, though he couldn''t deny he was afraid of the cost. He would listen, at least. "First off, this arrangement is purely professional. Those five ratlings are my family, you are not." The old one nodded again. Reasonable, even preferable. No ruler should grow too attached to their subjects, for they would always lose some, and no subject should grow too attached to their ruler, for they should always be ready to start over if they died. "Second, you will obey everything I say. If I tell you to only fish, you only eat fish. If I tell you to stay in a tunnel, you stay in that tunnel." Again, perfectly normal. "Third... You may have noticed that I am... Unusual. I have powers, powers that I want to strengthen. To improve. To make sure that no threat will be too great for me." The old one understood the words but not the rule. Of course they had sought the shadow for its powers, its ability to destroy two rulers on its own. If it grew stronger they would be safer. So why did it- "One of these powers is the ability to infuse something in other things. I don''t know what to call it, besides shadows. A part of my soul? Of my essence? My will? Magic? All that I know is that things improve, but they change. I have yet to fully test its effects on a living thing. I want to test it on a willing subject." Ah, here was the true cost of protection. Scouting, hunting, foraging, obeying orders? Those they already did. The old one''s orders and not a ruler''s, true, but those were things the pack was used to. The true cost of submission always was new, unusual. And the old one was no fool. The power of installing change in others, to warp them to your image... He had seen its effects. He knew what it entailed. The old one nodded. "Thank you. Now, do you have a volunteer-" The old one stepped forward. "You seem to be the leader. In case things go wrong, aren''t you afraid of leaving your pack without guidance?" What could he say? That he didn''t want any member of his pack to forever be transformed into a monstrosity? He couldn''t, and even if he could he wouldn''t have wanted to offend the shadow. No, he had lived long enough. They could go on without him. And, if he was lucky, maybe there would be enough of him left to appreciate the sight of his pack''s happiness. The old one stepped forward. "If you are certain. Well then, I''m going to blanket you with shadows. Let them in." The old one nodded before being engulfed by darkness. The pack that had stayed silent so far out of respect for him began to cry, to scream, to beg. But it was too late. He had made his choice. He felt them. Cold tendrils bore into his being, making him appreciate for the first time the warmth of his life, of his soul. They congregated around the core of what made him the old one and began to tap. He let them in. All went dark. Chapter 33 : Born from the dark James'' ability to infuse items with shadows had come back only very recently, only after his encounter with Soluble - whose bones'' transformation was possible thanks to his now tested shadow bullets combined with his shadow gun, though he should probably try to test them separately next time. He could theoretically have made another attempt on the ratlings'' equipment but Goliath had dissuaded him, explaining he was working on ways to improve it without using weird magical shenanigans. An understandable choice, especially since James was still unsure how exactly his ability worked. If he improved Goliath''s armor now, and the rating upgraded it with scraps, could he infuse it again to incorporate the modifications or would it just improve the scraps themselves? Again, testing would be done but at a later date. Right now, only one thing mattered. James looked down at the spot where he had infused the old rat with his shadows. Once they got in the rat''s body, he had felt... Something. He didn''t want to assume anything, and honestly, he didn''t feel entirely comfortable with the events that transpired if his theory was correct, but once the old rat gave permission for his shadows to enter and modify that thing everything changed. James'' connection to his shadows was... Cut was not the appropriate word, neither was weakened, but... Ah! It felt like it went from being a rope he held in his grasp to a cable that he could influence via a mental construct of a console. Yeah, kinda far-fetched, but that''s the best I can come up with... Describing new weird and magical senses is hard when you''ve been human most of your life... Nevertheless, his connection to the shadows in the rat still existed even though it wasn''t as clear and easy to use as before. He could even vaguely feel ways he could direct them as he had done with those that had invaded Soluble. Ways he could influence the outcome of whatever transformation it was going through. Not only that, but he could feel that something was trying to use the shadows in the same way. Something intelligent yet primitive. Old yet young. Animalistic yet wise. Infinite yet limited. The rat''s subconscious. For now, out of respect for the rat and the necessity to test the basic options first, James let its subconscious direct its evolution. He was no rat and had no idea how one might want to change, to evolve, so best let the concerned party decide for themself. He made the shadows more usable, allowing the subconscious to manipulate them. Still, James paid close attention to which choices were selected, trying to understand what they could do or at least to memorize them for any future transformation. The process was... Beautiful, in an odd way. It was like witnessing a strand of DNA with his bare eyes, and watching it mutate and adapt, going through eons of evolution in a few seconds. And suddenly it was over. Where there once was an old, withering rat with a missing paw was now something... More. A creature half again as big as the other rats, bearing black fur with purple highlights. Its eyes, which James would have expected to be glowing red or something of the sort, were instead a deep ocean blue, and they were currently scrutinizing the rat''s new self, taking in everything that had changed. Size, the color of fur and eyes... Those were only surface things, for the transformation went much deeper. Stronger bones, stronger teeth, stronger claws, stronger muscles, stronger organs, stronger flesh, stronger cells... All of which had turned different shades of purple, twisting what had once been a perfectly regular specimen into something truly alien. The intelligence behind the rat''s eye had once been oddly somewhat human, like a primate, but now it was undeniably as sapient as a person would be. The way it looked at itself, at its surroundings... James felt like he had awakened something that had laid in wait since the dawn of time. As if he had opened a mental door that had been left ajar for an eternity. There was another addition to the rat. Or rather, a reparation, a replacement for something missing. Where once there was a stump where a paw had been torn off, there was now a fearsome clawed hand composed of shadows, constantly slightly shifting as if its components were not used to being solid material. The shadow limb was a much more impressive sight than the rat''s other paws, despite their impressive black claws on dark purple flesh. The old rat looked at its - no, his, James could perceive the rat was a male now - replacement limb in wonder and admiration. "Well, I don''t know about you but I would call that a success." The rat surprised James by actually answering, his voice being one of an old man. "You... Are more than I thought." "I did not expect you to be able to talk fluently right away." Like, seriously, I''m not surprised he can talk, he was already intelligent before and it''s clear he''s even more now, but even the ratlings still have difficulties with verbs and stuff despite living with and constantly being exposed to human culture. That the old rat in the sewers has a perfect understanding of language is awfully convenient. "You are not the first intelligent creature I''ve seen. I''ve had time to learn, even if my body never could act on this knowledge." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Right... Out of sheer curiosity, and for the sake of better understanding my ability, how affected would you say your mind is by this change?" "Not as much as I''d feared. I have seen what change can do, and I am thankful you let me stay the same, if somewhat more... Civilized than before." If he had eyes, James would have narrowed them. "You know of others with the Transformation Aspect?" "I do not know them, but I have seen their work. Beasts lost to madness and instincts, pulsions and rage... Again, you are already a better benefactor than I thought you''d be." "By the way, why do you want your pack to follow me? I can guess some of the benefits, but isn''t hanging around a mysterious creature who fights monsters dangerous?" The rat''s eyes widened. "The pack!" The rat turned around and looked at the rest of the rats. They were looking at him in a mixture of hope, fear, and doubt. "I assure you, everyone, I am still me." "Squeak." "Yes, it is a strange change." "Squeak?" "No, that doesn''t mean I will let you lead the pack." "Squeak!" "Yes, my scent is slightly affected but I am still the old one." "Squeak squeak?" "It was a winter night, you just gave birth and a sewer cat had followed your mate to our nest. We all worked together to make an improvised guillotine, which failed and only ended up cutting the cat''s tail off. Your mate''s sacrifice allowed the rest of us to flee." The rat that had squeaked last looked relieved and nodded as she squeaked once more. "Squeak." The old rat looked touched by what she had said, and the rest of the pack took this as confirmation that the new black rat before them was still the old one they had followed all these years. "Thank you." James looked at the rat''s interactions and couldn''t deny he felt slightly out of place. "I am very sorry to interrupt, but could we..." "Oh, pardon me, I just needed to make sure the pack knew what was going on and to ease their worries." "I see, I see... But, as for my question?" "Ah, yes. You may be right in saying that strong beings attract other strong ones, but it is still safer to live in the shadow of one than on your own in these tunnels. Small critters like us are the perfect target for predators down here, and we have no way to fight back." "What about that cat guillotine?" "A failure. Some of the younglings come up with innovative ideas, but rats aren''t creators, they''re vermin. We''re not meant to build and use tools as humans do. We never succeed." "So you are familiar with humans?" "Familiar? Oh, I was raised by them. Me and countless lived in what they called a lab, and..." "Let me guess, science experiments? Mazes, weird food, electricity..." "Yes. One night some of us that had grown intelligent enough escaped by working together." "You went down in the sewers, had a bunch of children who weren''t quite as smart as you but still better than regular rats, and slowly those that had come from the lab died one by one until you were the only one left. Am I correct?" "You... Yes. The other lab rats all died early on, either in the escape or not long after when we first adapted to the sewers. I am the only one who lived free for more than a year." "Well, that explains some things..." The ratlings are probably the descendants of one of those lab rats, maybe even his, but there''s something else that brought that inner intelligence out and made them... Them. "As for now, I have some plans. You and your pack are free to settle anywhere you''d like nearby, just not directly in our lair. Your job will be to patrol, hunt and scavenge materials in our territory while we take care of the bigger threats." "I... I accept, master...?" "Call me Silhouette. It''s what the people up there are using." At least those I can spy on. "Well, master Silhouette, I accept this mission but we are mere rats, not great warriors like you and your kitts." "Kitts?" "Young rats, master. Older than pups but not adults yet." "They weren''t born great warriors." Now that I think about it they were actually pretty good hunters even without my intervention, except for Goliath. "Their current strength is the result of training, discipline, and some equipment." "I do not doubt you, master, but we have none of those and no one to provide them to us." "Tell me, what is your name?" "I have none, master. I am the old one at best, but rats identify each other through scents, not sounds." "Why do you all squeak so much then?" "To garner attention." "Means of communication between rodents aside, I will need to call you something. Do you have any preference?" "None, master." Great. I have no idea. I could call him something based on the whole shadow thing but if I infuse the rest of the group it will get confusing. A name, a name... What about... Eh, why not. "Your name shall be... Polisson." "It is a great honor, master." "Well then Polisson, your mission is to first find a suitable location for your pack. Once it is done come inform me, I will personally come to improve it so that your pack will be safe. In the meantime, you will have to try out your new body by hunting and protecting your pack. After your home will be secured I will ask which of your fellow rats are willing to transform, creating an elite force able to do most of the heavy lifting, the real dangerous tasks." "I understand, master." "With a nest, I will be able to create with the help of my ratlings an area where you will be able to train, as well as provide you with some equipment. Nothing as fancy and personalized as the ratlings'', but still good enough to make sure you will have the means necessary to guard our territory." "Thank you, master." "Now off you go. Do not disappoint me." "Yes, master. EVERYONE! We''re leaving. We''re going to find ourselves a new home!" The rats cheered as they listened to their enhanced leader. Although many were unsure about their alliance with the shadow, they all knew this would be a great day for them. Before they had even noticed James had left, pondering about the results of his experiment. He had not expected the transformation of a willing living thing to be so impressive, but here he was, now the proud master of a mutant rat with a shadow hand. At least he wasn''t surprised by the cost of such a transformation and had learned a lot. He already knew that the more complex an item was the harder it was to infuse, but now he had discovered the importance of will. The fact the old rat had been willing to transform had let James'' shadows economize a lot of energy and efforts. This infusion had been easier to do than that of his phone. Speaking of his phone, James took it out of himself and began to search the Internet about mutants, the Transformation Aspect, and labs in Zalcien. He wanted to know what he was getting himself into, and he had to make sure nothing would come back to bite at him. Still, thinking about his phone''s infusion, although he felt like Polisson''s had cost less he should have been exhausted, or at least very tired, yet it felt like he was only slightly out of breath. He couldn''t be growing stronger this fast now, could he? Chapter 34 : Going to the surface A week had gone by in a blink of an eye. Nothing notorious happened, at least nothing on the same scale as his previous misfortunes - a fact that had not gone unnoticed and had James worried that something would go wrong very soon. Despite his fears, he made sure to make this week as useful as possible. The ratlings didn''t only watch cartoons, they spent at least as much time training or improving themselves, Goliath taking care to perfect their weapons while still denying his father''s help. There was always something that could be upgraded, replaced, or added, and frankly, James was beginning to think the ratling would never be done. James had also infused a couple more rats from Polisson''s pack, though he didn''t bother to name them this time. If all went well Polisson was the only one he would ever need to have a conversation with, after all. Besides, the old rat''s underlings weren''t as proficient with words as their ancestor. The ratlings, on the other hand... "Father, Foudre, and I have come back from the hunt. We suffered no injuries and confirmed Mischief''s report." "Very good, thank you, Lucille." "Hmf." "You too, Foudre." For some reason, Polisson''s pack had decided to start calling itself Mischief. More specifically, the elite force did. Since it was harmless and no one would hear that name, it didn''t bother James. He hadn''t asked the ratlings if they wanted to be infused. After seeing how the transformation went, James understood that, no matter how little the difference was, something undeniably changed in the target''s sense of self. Increased loyalty was an obvious effect, for example, but he had no way of knowing how deep the transformation went. He hadn''t known the old rat long enough to notice any peculiar shift in Polisson. Honestly, James didn''t want to meddle with the ratlings'' minds, or possibly even their souls, for a simple power boost. Besides, since they never brought up the subject despite their interactions with the infused rats - that James had decided to name Shadow Rats because he wanted a simple term to use but wasn''t bothered enough to be original - he assumed the ratlings weren''t tempted by the procedure either. Plus, they hadn''t needed his help to change before, why would they now? "So the entire area belongs to us now, eh? That''s a lot more than I expected." James had no idea of the size of the sewers, or Zalcien in general. For some reason a lot of things were censored on the Internet, things that would have seemed obvious on Earth, like maps of countries, continents, planispheres, satellite views in general... I can understand that it makes things harder for Villains while they''re planning stuff, but it''s incredibly impractical. It''s supposed to be the worldwide web, no? Actually, that was a very good question. One quick search later and James found out that Webbs - the browser he was using, with a chibi spider as its logo - was exclusive to the ACS, the Association of City-States, with each city''s access being supervised by a local agent working alongside the mayor''s office. So it IS being censored. Well, that''s worrying. In any case, the area he and his rats had claimed for themselves was impressive, even without taking into account their lair which had recently reached the size of a house with all of James'' digging and improvements. The space around the lair that belonged to them now included a lot of the places he had scouted out before his run-in with the Electroach. A few dozens of tunnels and the occasional room may not seem like much, but it was already more real estate than he had ever owned in his last life. "Papa, I do not understand how you can be satisfied with these... Rags." James checked himself in a piece of broken mirror with its edges wrapped in duct tape Larry and Barry had brought him. According to them, an actual mirror was an incredibly rare sight in the slums, with most of the inhabitants relying on broken pieces such as this one. He had now taken a humanoid form, looking like a silhouette of his old human body. A little taller than average, scrawny build, messy hair... Due to his body''s lack of perspective thanks to his pitch-black color, he couldn''t get any more detailed than that. He was currently wearing a dirty dark grey shirt and blue holey jeans. It wasn''t much, but it was enough to truly feel like a person again. "I know where you''re coming from Blanche, but I can''t complain. Getting good stuff is hard in the slums." "Hmf." "Look, I''ll check if anything catches my eye, alright?" "Fine." The albino rat went back to doing whatever it was she was doing, which to James'' untrained eyes just looked like lazing around, but surely this wasn''t the case. "Old man. Weapons." "David, don''t talk like that." "Oh magnificent old man of mine, he who bends the shadows forevermore and rules the dark, can you please remember to buy us poor defenseless kitts some actual weapons?" "No." "Oh come on!" "Your brother already works hard providing you all with gear so you better be thankful." "It''s just pieces of junk attached to more pieces of junk with glue! Not even good glue!" "David." "I just want a gun! Or a chainsaw! Or-" "Let Goliath do his thing. With the tools Larry and Barry brought us, I''m sure he''ll figure something out." "I''ll remember this, old man." James shook his head. Ah, youth. The edgy phase. "Does anyone else have something to say?" The different ratlings present in the room - because James had decided that if their lair was going to be the size of a house, it may as well have rooms - looked at each other before shaking their heads. Blanche and David had already talked and Foudre and Lucille had nothing to say in the first place. The only one left would be... Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. "Still in his workshop?" "Yes." The ratlings weren''t sold on the idea of individual rooms, they were fine just sharing one with little sheet walls to separate their personal spaces. A human-sized room was awfully big for a rat, after all. On the other hand, Goliath was very happy with James'' decision to make a room dedicated to craftsmanship, right next to the storage room where all of their loot, scraps, money, and still defunct spider were stocked. "I''ll check on him on the way out, but he should be happy with what we have. Well then, I''m off. Wish me good luck." Today, James would finally go on the surface.
In a dark alley, hidden in the slums, between bricked walls, dark grey ground, and improvised platforms covering the sky, a manhole cover began to shake. Soon a black hand emerged, lifting the cover away as a pitch-black humanoid creature crawled out, its movements being oddly smooth, too perfect, too controlled. James looked all around him, checking that no one was near, and closed the cover behind him as he stood on the dirty, stony ground. For the first time in his new life, he was on the surface, away from the sewer tunnels in which he had made his home. He sadly lacked the lungs necessary to breathe in the fresh air, but he could feel how much purer it was simply with his skin membrane thing. He looked up, at all of the platforms made of wooden planks and metal sheets that ran between the roofs of buildings. They blocked the sun''s light, leaving the alley in near-complete darkness, or at least they would if it weren''t for their shoddy construction, dozens of gaps and holes in the structure letting rays of light fall down below, creating a spectacle that amazed James. Before I go any further, it''s time for the final test... Throughout his new life, James had lived hidden in tunnels. He had never fully realized the implications of this until his first meeting with Larry and Barry when they had brought a flashlight, he had never seen the light in this world, apart from his phone''s and the duo''s flashlight. Tentatively James reached out with his arm and let his hand enter a ray of light, ready to pull it back at a moment''s notice. He was a being made of shadows, what if light burned him, like a vampire? What if it turned him back into a human? He waited. A second, a couple more, a minute... Realizing that nothing would happen, James let out a sigh and stepped fully into the light. It was odd, to say the least, to feel it warming his body once more, but it didn''t have any noticeable effect. Well, except for one tiny detail. In an illuminated place, there were fewer shadows to manipulate. He would have to look out for that. So... Here we go. James began to walk, following Barry''s instructions, heading for the Black Block.
Alan Leone, the scientist with a youthful body but messy long grey hair, didn''t believe in a lot of things. Oh, gods were undeniably a thing, much to his annoyance, and divine powers had a nasty tendency to mess with every law of physics they could, but that was the point: the existence of deities was a fact, not a belief. For Alan Leone was a man of science, a world of facts - no matter how stupid they were - and not superstitions. At least until you reached the real advanced fields, where human technology was still too primitive to understand everything and everyone could only try to guess as close as they could, but those weren''t the subject of this train of thought. No, today''s subject was one of the beliefs that had wormed their way into Doctor Leone''s pragmatic mind. Morality. Good was good and evil was bad. Oh, his definition of the terms was broader than the average citizen''s, the path of science wasn''t made without its fair share of sacrifices after all, but it was definitely in accord with what you would expect. Hence, his current predicament. "Leone, you''re in charge of the feeding." "Again?" The scientist who didn''t look his age, ex-leader of development on Project Null, looked across the lab to gaze into his old rival and current superior''s eyes, Doctor Slark. From her name, you wouldn''t expect Kraen Slark to be an elf, yet here she was, as tall as the average human man - which made her slightly taller than Alan - and thinner than many human models, she looked even younger than he did, her blond hair and green eyes captivating many of the men who crossed their path. Not Alan. He knew what kind of thoughts went through her twisted mind. "Hey, don''t blame me. If I had to choose I would supervise every feeding myself." Alan shuddered, thinking back to everything he had witnessed in this accursed lab. He knew she was being honest. "Is it-" "No, it''s not from Mister Marley. He only ordered your presence for the first four ones." Alan remembered well. Too well. The first three feeding sessions, as horrible as they had been to behold, were just the usual routine of Slark''s lab, how they took care of their project. The fourth, on the other hand... Every night Alan could hear Rachel''s screams. "So why-" "It''s from an investor." "What." The elf sighed and took a seat on a nearby table covered in reports, completely ignoring all of her team''s efforts. "Look, Alan, Project Null was big. Even I had high hopes for the thing, and the fact it managed to escape in the first place is proof enough of how great it was. However..." "I know Kraen, it was a spectacular failure and waste of time. Mister Marley made that clear enough." "For all that matters, I don''t blame you or your team. I know how good you are at what you do. Clearly, Mister Marley should have used some of that investor money to improve security instead of going on another hunting trip." "Kraen, don''t-" "Bah, he doesn''t care. So long as we work, he will let anything fly." "Except-" "Except forgetting the Mister, of course. Anyway, what I was trying to say is that a lot of people were really mad about its escape, especially the investors. I heard the big three immediately had a meeting with Mister Marley." "Wait, all three? I didn''t think-" "Alan, Project Null was BIG. I heard Investor Hades was calling for your head, it took Investor Mask''s intervention to convince them to let you live." "How do you-" "Eh, I have my tricks. Anyways, Investor Hades is mad and only allowed Mister Marley to spare you if you never got to lead a project again. Investor Mask is disappointed but eager to see your next work. And Investor X..." "They''re the one behind the feeding thing?" "Yup. Think of this as a warning. Or maybe as a training to make you more sociopathic? I''m not sure and I don''t care. You''re the reason why I can''t take care of my baby as much as before." "Ah, here''s the Kraen I know." "What?" "Forget it. So, who''s the subject?" "Some guy, don''t care. Shoo now, I can''t be in charge but at least I can watch." Alan cringed at that. What kind of person would willingly watch what was going to happen? Well, someone like Doctor Slark he guessed. The walk from the main lab - situated a healthy distance away from the feeding cell - to said cell felt like an eternity. The white walls of the lab didn''t make the situation any easier, he had quickly grown to hate how cold they felt. Alan sat down on the secondary lab''s operator chair. He let his fingers run through his hair as he looked down at the panel of commands in front of him. He began by pressing the button that lit up the feeding cell''s lights, not that it would be useful once the feeding began. Through the observing window in front of him, unlike the main lab''s camera system, he could fully appreciate how sterile the room felt, even when not occupying it. He then pressed the one that opened a door from which a massive claw holding a struggling dirty man emerged. Another button pressed and electricity ran through the claw, in a small enough amount to guarantee the man would be unharmed but enough to stun him for a few seconds, long enough to let the claw drop him before returning to its hole and closing the door from whence it came. Alan took in a deep breath and pushed the final button. The one that opened the door between the feeding cell and the normal cell. The door barely had the time to rise from the floor that already a cloud of black miasma rushed in, encircling the now panicking and screaming dirty man, taking care to spread its black mist throughout the room to devour any loose organic material that may have entered, destroying dust more effectively than any vacuum he knew. Soon enough the meticulously reinforced glass of the window was covered as well, and at this point, Alan knew there was no point in keeping his eyes open anymore. Frankly, had he not seen early footage of the project, he would have thought the black cloud of miasma was the entity itself, not its power. Throughout the entire process, Alan had made it his priority to ignore the man''s screams. It frightened him how easy it had become. The doctor Alan Leone hated working on Project Thanatos. Chapter 35 : James and the Black Block As James finally found his way to the Black Block, he took a second to appreciate the warmth of the light of day on his body. Of course, he couldn''t just spend all day basking in the sun - which he had found out was called Sola Stellis, for some reason. He looked around at all the decrepit and improvised stalls, the strange buildings, the weird peddlers and merchants and their various products, the sneaky buyers and thieves walking alongside each other, as though in a dance where the first to fail to follow the flow would lose all he had - which, considering the nature of theft and pickpocketing, wasn''t that far off. "Hmf!" "Sorry, sorry!" James stared at the small disheveled man that had just run into him. Oh, he wasn''t stupid, considering how agile his steps were he was just as used to the madness of this black market as the rest of them. This was no accident, he had just tried to steal his money. Sadly for the man, James had foreseen this situation. Once again being a shapeshifter with no need for internal organs proved to be very useful to safely transport objects. He could theoretically confront him, but he did not need to do so. He had lost nothing and, honestly, it felt nice going back to being James, just a regular guy, another face in the crowd. His small appreciation of civilization no matter how dirty and cutthroat finished, James joined the crowd. He had to admit, seeing that the people surrounding him didn''t care about his appearance helped ease his worries. In fact, many of them weren''t fully human either. Odd mutations here and there, a couple of scales, weirdly shaped limbs, straight-up animalistic heads... James followed the movement, letting the crowd guide him, stopping whenever a stall caught his eye. The first one was manned by a black woman - regular skin black, not whatever eldritch shenanigans was his - selling various pieces of machinery. Here was a vital piece for a photon gun, there was a gear that could fit in any Xenocorp-made robot, this was a powerful battery, half-used but powerful enough to fuel the average doom ray for a good minute, enough time to dig a hole in whatever you wanted to open... Judging by the prices announced by the woman and the occasional passer-by''s scoff at her sales pitch, James assumed this stall was either a scam or another stall or shop was offering similar services at a more affordable price or of better quality. The next stall, manned by an old white man in blue robes, seemed to be the magical equivalent of the previous one. Cracked magical gems, gnarly wooden wands and staffs, patchworked robes, weak shielding amulets, sealing stones for lesser spirits... As interested as he was in the magical arts, especially after Saray had mentioned the possibility of him being Soul Aspected, James didn''t buy anything from this stall either. Again, it was very likely another merchant would offer better products at better prices. His little walk around the market went on and on and was many strange sights, a stall selling grossly mutated fruits and vegetables closer to being bioweapons than food products, a giant centipede with a white curly mustache selling human bones, a goblin trading gold for cash, an old rusty automaton offering various holy trinkets from minor forgotten gods, a young couple with a collection of surprisingly well-maintained weapons, a floating orb of milky grey vapor played the fortune teller in exchange for a tenth of the client''s soul... Some of those made James curious, hence why he bought a small bat amulet of a dead god from the automaton, guaranteed to help detect vampires without any divine string attached, as well as a set of skinning knives and a crossbow, a dozen bolts included. He valued his soul too much to gamble away and he had serious doubts about the supposed origin of all those human bones, "guaranteed to come from willing donors". His next stop was a little more remarkable. It would be the first true shop he would visit, one of the buildings surrounding the market. It was odd, hence why it had caught his eye - metaphorically, of course. Again, no eyes. It was mostly pink and white, with hints of red and blue, run-down yet taken care of. There was a little sign with the name "Pete''s" written on it. All in all, it looked the hideout of a mad candymaker from some old cartoon, yet compared to the rest of the Black Block it was strangely charming. The pleased smiles of the nearby customers and the pleasant smell of pastries and bread freshly baked further convinced James it would be worth a visit. He entered, a small bell ringing as he opened the door. The inside of the building seemed to be in a better shape, less damaged than the outside. The smell of baked goods was omnipresent and filled James with nostalgia as he recalled not only the small bakery he sometimes bought pastries from when going to work, but also in a more subtle way the kitchen of his old pizzeria. I wonder how they''re doing. Avery must still be looking for someone to replace me by now. Didn''t Joey say he had a cousin looking for a job? Or was it for a joke about pineapples on pizza? It feels like it''s been ages... Someone tapped on James'' shoulder. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. "Oh, sorry, I was distracted-" As his senses focused back on the here and now, James got to take a good look at what was calling him. He wasn''t expecting some kind of squid with grey leathery skin floating in the air at eye level, its conic head replaced by a purple crystal, the same color its three eyes were shining. The main body of the squid wasn''t all that big, around the length of an entire human arm, but its tentacles appeared to be much longer, almost reaching to the floor before each one entered a different blue portal, apparently emerging in different places in the building from similar portals, each tentacle doing its own thing. A pair was currently serving a customer some cupcakes, a single one was cleaning with a broom and another flicked the head of a youngster who tried to pocket a donut. "Ouh, forgive me, child. You seemed unwell." The voice that echoed in James'' mind seemed old. Of course, he was a little too distracted by the fact he was being talked to by a telepathic squid to focus on the tone of its voice. "Oh, no, it was nothing... Mister Pete?" "Ouhouhou, ouh no child, Pete is my sweet husband. My name is Maltodextrin. Miss Maltodextrin, if you wish." It took a couple of seconds for James to get back down to earth - or well, Terra Stellis. He had read about many strange creatures and seen many pictures, both in his old world and this one, but dealing with one of them in real life was a brand new experience. "Ah, sorry miss. It''s just... I''ve never seen someone like you before." "Ouh, I do not mind. Such accidents are quite common in these parts, child. Few can claim to know the sexual dimorphism of all the species of a planet, not to consider those that decided to forge their path." "Ah, yes..." "Ouh, forgive this old woman, child. In my old age, I tend to speak my mind much more than I used to. How can I help you, child?" "I, uh... Wanted to know if this place was a bakery?" "Ouhouhouh, yes it is, child. My husband''s beloved business, made with his own sugar and spice. You must be new in these parts, no, child?" "Ah, yeah... How did you guess?" "Ouh, everyone around the Black Block knows about my Pete and his shop. It''s his pride and joy, just like he''s mine. Now child, as lovely as this conversation is I have duties to attend to. Now that you know this wonderful place is a bakery, do you wish to purchase one of our delicious products? I make the sugar myself!" "Uhm, do you have anything a rat could eat?" "Ouh, they can eat most of them, child! It''s why nonsentient rodents are such a curse!" "Great! I don''t know what they''d like though..." "Ouh, just tell me about them, child. I have a knack for finding the right treat for the right mind!"
A few minutes later and now richer of a dozen pastries, James went back to his shopping, though he was unable to prevent his mind from thinking back about his encounter with Miss Maltodextrin. Oh, he had fought against gigantic cockroaches and toads and some kind of slime person, but talking to a telepathic squid was something else. He visited a few more stalls and a few more shops, taking care to pay attention to how everyone else treated each one. Those seen as scams he ignored, and those seen as hidden pearls he investigated. He bought a couple of magical trinkets here and there to research later, some cloth for when the ratlings would inevitably decide to make some superhero costumes, some books on how to build furniture... He entered another building shop, this one looking like an old library. When he entered a ringing sound was made but there was no bell. The interior was mostly wooden, with some items being laid on low tables while others were kept in chests behind the vendor''s desk and a couple of odd ones were suspended from the ceiling. A young woman was sitting at the vendor''s desk and reading some kind of grimoire, her light leather top and skirt exposed her tan skin covered in green tattoos of what looked like Arabic words, forming bands on her arms, wrists, legs, ankles, and neck. With short black hair and emerald eyes, her aquiline features were odd compared to the rest of the humans he''d seen around here. "Uhm, hello?" "What do you want?" "What kind of shop is this?" "A magic shop." "And what kind of things do you sell?" "Magic things." "Uhu. And what kind of magic things?" "Books. Wands. Lanterns. Scrolls. Bones. Herbs. Things." "Ah. Alright. Do you... Do you have any suggestions?" "Magic for Dummies. Casting ring. Lantern of Everlight. That''ll be 500 Xerins." That... That seems like a lot... "Uh... Are there any discounts? Or sales?" "No." "..." "..." "Fine." The woman raised an eyebrow at that. "350." "What?" "Pay me 350 Xerins." "Are you giving me a 150 Xerins discount?" "No. I''m sparing you from the ''not worth my time'' fee."
The next shop appeared to be more focused on technology. It wasn''t that impressive from the outside, apart from the many cables that lined the walls, but the inside felt like a mad scientist''s lab or a spaceship from a low-budget sci-fi flick. The merchant this time was just some kind of drone, a small white sphere hovering in the air thanks to a little rotor on top that always kept its little black camera eye on James. The products were just more of the same, scraps and odd pieces, a few batteries, a couple of gadgets at insane prices... James only bought some of the materials and power sources, so that Goliath could make something out of them. It wasn''t much but it would be enough, and he preferred to avoid buying too much from the same at once, to avoid suspicions. It was unlikely the different merchants told each other about their customers'' purchases and budgets, but too much in a single shop and the merchant themself might get funny ideas. "Enjoy. Your. Purchase." "Yeah yeah." As he exited the shop, a young man - or maybe a teen, James wasn''t sure - wearing some kind of white homemade cybernetic armor bumped into him as he entered the shop. "Oh, sorry." "Hmf." Wow, rude. James ignored the youth as he began to make his way home. Meanwhile, the youth in question began to browse the store, looking at all the batteries he could find. He groaned when he realized none of them would fit for what he had planned. He immediately turned to the drone. "What''s the best battery you have?" "Xenocorp. Newest. Solsimili." "How much?" "Fifty. Thousand. Xerins." "... The best battery for a thousand Xerins?" "Xenocorp. Oldest. Powerplayer." "Any discount?" "Half. Price. Half. Charge." "... Fine." Chapter 36 : Black magic The ratlings had been more than satisfied with their pastries, Foudre enjoyed an ¨¦clair, described by Maltodextrin as a classic Gaulliancian delicacy, Goliath a Bossche bol, a large chocolate ball filled with whipped cream from The Lands That Weren''t, David a flies graveyard, a squarish pastry filled with raisins from somewhere called Albion - which tickled James'' knowledge of Arthurian legends - while Blanche devoured a white forest, some kind of sponge cake from Grimmkin, and Lucille, usually so stoic, couldn''t stop herself from sighing and smiling as she ate a Kifli, something that to James untrained eye had just looked like a weird small croissant before being firmly educated by Maltodextrin as soon he voiced this thought, now knowing that it is a pastry from a country called Faminora that could be found not far from Draskia. Seeing them feast on the sugary treats somewhat saddened James. Oh, he was glad they were happy, but it kinda hammered home the fact he now had no mouth and no sense of taste. Sure, he could theoretically shapeshift himself a mouth, but what was the point if he couldn''t use it to eat? With his pitch-black nature, he wouldn''t even be able to use it to smile. He had gotten used to being non-human, to the lack of sleep, the way his senses worked differently now, his new powers... But you never know how much you''re attached to something until it leaves. In this case, taste. At least he got to eat a pizza before reincarnating. In any case, aside from the pastries, the items he had brought back from the Black Block had been a big subject of curiosity for the ratlings, especially Goliath. As soon as he had finished his Bossche bol and had got his paws on the pieces of metal and batteries James had bought, the young large rat had gone into a frenzy and rushed into his workshop. There was still something James had brought from the Black Block that he needed to deal with. "Sooo... Magic, eh?" "Yes, I plan to experiment with magic. Why do you ask, David?" "Well, it''s just... Weird. Like, why bother with fireballs when you can just rip out their throat?" "Magic isn''t only about attacking. You can create shields, heal wounds, control the environment with elementalism or telekinesis..." "Uhu. And you plan to do all this with a ring and a weird lightbox?" "A lantern, David, and yes. Never underestimate magic or rings, especially magical rings. There''s an entire saga about an evil ring made with magic in my world." "Sure, sure." "I''ll tell you another day. I''m sure you''d love it, there are lots of fights with massive armies, dismemberments and it ends with a volcano." "You know making things up doesn''t make you look cool, right? We''re not that stupid." James would have rolled his eyes had he still had them. One day he would knock out David with the genius of Tolkien''s worldbuilding, but not today. Today, he delved into the magical arts. The first step described in the guide Magic for Dummies was to learn how to meditate. Unsurprisingly enough, since magic was tied to the Soul Aspect, the best way to get started was to study your soul, and the best path to introspection was, again, meditation. The guide mentioned that, depending on your personality, affinities, and Aspects, different methods would bear different results. Someone with a close tie to fire would have an easier time getting in tune with themself in a hot area than in a pool, for example. Some people needed silence, others needed noise, some preferred a small space, others a large area... In other words, you had to figure out what worked best on your own. James recalled how he would focus to perceive things through his infused creations, such as the black bricks of the lair or the bones of Soluble, and thought it might be a good start. He slid his way to a room he had created to be his personal space and took a second to think of the best to position himself. Should he stay in his Silhouette form? Maybe the Skitter one? Maybe a plain old humanoid body? Let''s just try what seems most natural and stick to it. James stood in the middle of the small room and used his tentacles to set up a few things. He drew some runes in a circle around him with chalk following the instructions of the guide, apparently, they were supposed to help beginners feel things. He then set down the Everlasting Lantern in front of him. According to the scroll that came with it, the lantern required a magic practitioner to activate it with his magical energies, no matter what they were. The lantern would then be lit up thanks to the energy and, through a complex magical set up inside, would perfectly recycle all of the energy it had received, allowing it to stay alight indefinitely, hence its name. Of course, there was a reason such a system wasn''t used everywhere, it only worked with very small tasks and in very small quantities. A lantern was fine, an engine was not. According to the guide, there were more powerful artifacts that used a similar system but they weren''t as efficient and were incredibly rare and expensive. Not that it concerned James, he had no plans on getting himself a "totem of vitality siphoning" or any other fancy the guide mentioned. He had basic needs and basic desires. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly - it was all in his head of course since he had no lungs but the activity helped cool him down. James focused and closed off all of his senses. Immediately, in the great nothing he perceived, he could feel small spots that sensed things. The bricks of the lair, letting him see all of the ratlings training in the little parkour course Goliath had created in their little rat-sized gym. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. The gun and the bullets he had infused, currently stored behind a removable brick he had set up in his room. The elite members of Mischief, how some of them were taking care of their regular rat brethren while others were hunting or on the lookout. Soluble''s bones, from which he could look at the Cored thug''s surroundings and hear their current discussion. "So, a silhouette in the sewers beat ya good?" "Not A silhouette, THE silhouette. I dunno what that thing is-" "Funny coming from you, slimey." "Shut up. But that thing, it''s dangerous. Knocked out Jeffrey-" "That''s impressive?" "And Mark-" "Lizarboy? He''s big but I''ve seen worse." "Without them ever seeing it." "Oh, a stealthy one. No wonder your boys got a beating." "You don''t get it, Guy." "You''re being paranoid, Soluble. You should be glad these two are still kicking. You all shouldn''t have gone down there in the first place, gods know what kinda stuff lives down there. There''s a reason why Sicklers don''t go there." "Guy, it wasn''t an animal. It was someone, and they had a gun-" "Soluble, buddy, there are tons of people with guns out there. I mean come on you''re made of acid for Kleptus'' sake!" "Guy, they shot me. And it worked." "What?" "The gun. It fired a bullet and it hurt. It knocked me out cold too." "That''s... Noteworthy. A gun or a bullet that can hurt organless Cored? I don''t think you could even find one of those in the Sunken City." "You serious?" "Dunno, it''s not like I''ve seen the place. I could ask a few of my contacts if you want?" "Yeah, it''d be for the best." James mentally shook his head. As interesting as it was, he had some meditating to do. He ignored the calling of the various infused items he had made and focused on himself. In the great nothingness of perception he had entered, he strangely felt no tie to himself. He focused. He focused. He focused. He felt it. A small thread, a little string of darkness. No, there were multiple of them. They each connected one of the infused items to... Him? They all twisted and reveled around something, forming the beginning of what could one day become a cocoon. Maybe? It was hard to know with only a dozen threads. What perplexed James was the fact he couldn''t see what was at the center of the threads. There were so few of them that he should have been able to clearly see what they were surrounding, and yet nothing. Why... Wait. Everything I can see here is linked to shadows somehow. But my soul... It comes from Earth. My darkness shtick comes from my body, not from my soul. It has nothing to do with shadows. The reason why he couldn''t see what was at the center of this loose bundle of strings was probably that in this state he could only see shadows. That should have been obvious. But how could he overcome it? How... James focused on the sphere he could not see and on the strings that seemed to begin to envelop it. Looking more closely, they didn''t stop on the sphere. It made sense, in a way. One end of the thread was coming from the infused objects, then it went to the sphere, it ran around it, but where did the other end of it go? He caught them, apparently, the whole bundling thing made them shrink because the ends he was looking for were barely a tenth of those that came off the infused objects. Now, as to where they were going... Oh. They were going into him. The him that he was currently seeing things through. His inner him, in a way. Which was a roundabout way to talk about... My soul. Of course, my astral self that sees weird stuff is my soul. And the sphere around which the strings go must be a representation of my Core or something. Now, how to see it... Creating a mental mirror didn''t work, trying to keep his astral body in one place while his view went to another didn''t work... Come on, think James. How do you see something you are? How? I can''t force a third-person view, I can''t make a mirror... How do other people make magical introspection work? Wait. Introspection. Looking inside yourself. Could it...? James tried something. A little trick that many people playing VR games often tried. He bent down until what should have been his head entered what should have been his body. In other words, he glitched into himself. And it worked. The thing he saw couldn''t be described. He had expected his soul to be some kind of floating orb or ghost version of himself, but it was so much more. It was his memories. His nightmares. His dreams. His life. His death. Him at six years old, the first time he went to a zoo. Him at sixteen, when his friend Darcia rejected his advances. Him as a fetus, as his cells worked on multiplying and arranging themselves. Him as a confused black blob waking up in the sewers. It was his favorite music, the odor he hated the most, the horrendous sound of chalk on a blackboard, the smell of his mother''s cookies in the oven... All he had ever experienced, ever been, ever wanted, ever loved, ever hated, all tied together into a single thing. Into him. It was all that and yet had no color, shape, weight, taste, texture, or scent of its own. It was... It was merely a summary. A summary of his existence. But was that true? No, it wasn''t. No. But then why. Why did it feel so... Lacking? Like an egg with no shell. Wait. The thing the threads had begun to make. Was it a representation of his core or was it his subconscious attempts at fixing this... Not hollowness, no, the exact opposite in truth. Had his soul''s shell been lost in reincarnation? How could he fix that? Would the threads be enough? No, the way they were entering his soul, they weren''t trying to envelop it, the thing they were creating was something else. Then how? Why? His body. He had reincarnated. He had lost his human body. Could it be why the shell was missing? It was lost in his human body? But then how could he create a new one? He had a new body but... Could that be it? Would he need to create a stronger bond between his body and his soul? But how? The only way to create bonds he knew was with his infusion, but it would never work on his soul... Or would it? Polisson had said he had been fundamentally changed. That he had felt something touching his soul. Would this insane plan work? Could James infuse his own soul? Should he infuse his own soul? Polisson had talked about a desire to serve and increased loyalty, but nothing like increased bloodthirst or pulsions to devour human flesh. Everything had apparently been influenced by James'' want for a guard and Polisson''s wishes to help his pack and further his own intellect. If James was the only party involved, then his infusion should entirely correspond to his desires, should it not? He should do further research. Look things up on the Internet. Maybe ask that woman at the magical shop for advice. Or discuss it with the others in the HardCored chat. He shouldn''t rush headfirst into this big mystery without preparations. And yet he found himself unable to leave. Unable, or unwilling? James himself didn''t know. Stuck as he was, there was only one possibility. He pulled on the strings of darkness. Unknown to him, in the physical realm, all of the shadows within the lair and the surrounding tunnels began to thrive. To dance. To sing. To rejoice. They all began to converge into a single point. Into him. James watched his soul with rapt attention, making sure nothing would affect it directly. He wouldn''t let himself be changed against his will. Not again. Shadows traveled through the threads but when they tried to spread into his soul, James didn''t let them. He redirected them, drove them to surround it instead. None would get inside. Darkness covered the sum of his existence in a few seconds and yet more kept coming. Always and always. And then it stopped. James woke up, back in his little room. In the Everlasting Lantern, a black flame was burning. Chapter 37 : The dark arts James looked down at the black flame in the lantern. How. What. The flame was strange. James had seen actual black fire in videos online back on Earth, it was usually a trick made by burning sodium under the light of a specific lamp, but it always was in a controlled environment set up specifically for it. Here? Here there was nothing. The flame didn''t even look like normal fire, it wasn''t flickering, instead, it was in a constant slow output, looking like the result of a low setting on a gas stove. Wait. Don''t get distracted by the magical stuff. What happened with my soul? Entering his strange inner world was much easier this time and at glance, things didn''t look that different. Oh, the shadowy threads were somewhat thicker and his connections to his infused creations felt a little clearer somehow, but it wasn''t that big of a change. The dark-ball-of-yarn-to-be hadn''t changed either, aside from the increase in the size of the strings. Now that James to look for, however, he had no trouble looking at his soul. Needless to say, that was different. Before he even got the opportunity of directly looking into himself, there was a noticeable change, namely that his astral self wasn''t invisible anymore. Instead, it looked like a black body, he could see black hands and arms and even a black torso, but lower than that it seemed to turn into a tail, a tail that got thinner and thinner until the only things left were strings, strings that went- Into the ball. So, those must be the threads to everything I''ve infused. My connections with them. With his new astral arms, James began to feel the rest of his humanoid body or at least torso. It was unsurprisingly pretty close to the one he had made to explore the Black Block, the one he had designed after his old self. Now that felt it, however, he could tell his astral self was closer to his old appearance than his attempt had been, so detailed he could feel every single hair on his arm despite being unable to see them. Then he had an idea. Right now he was seeing and feeling things like a human. Like he used to. But his new body, the one he had reincarnated with, had a different way to do things. It sensed everything at once in a certain radius around it. Couldn''t he use that to examine himself in a better way? He tried and it worked. Like he expected his humanoid part was a copy of his human appearance, just entirely pitch-black. In fact, with these senses, he could perfectly tell every single detail that was included, things that would be invisible to the average person''s eye, small scars from he was hurt as a kid, that one hair that always stuck out of the rest, the small bumps were veins went in his wrists, hell even his fingerprints. All of that transformed into a single, perfectly smooth tube that went on to become a dozen strings or so. The difference between the two was kind of jarring. So, if I thought of my soul as a shell-less egg, this must be the shell I made with shadows. Let''s just hope nothing happened to the yolk. James peered into his soul once more, and though the experience was as jarring and overwhelming as last time, he was reassured to find nothing had been modified, added, or erased. He was still the same inside. That''s all that mattered. His worries about any alteration to his personality quelled, James surfaced back into the real world. Comforted by the fact he had thankfully not permanently damaged his soul, he was now faced with the fact that he had absolutely no idea of what he had done and how it somehow created a black flame. Ok, I''ll just assume that every soul has some kind of protection that comes with the body and, since I reincarnated, I lost the old one and that whole infusion thing just created a new one. It''s my best guess and the most reassuring one, so I''ll stick to that. But how did "fixing" my soul create black fire? This was only supposed to be a meditation seance, for now, I didn''t even have my casting ring on. James quickly took a look at the instructions in the beginner''s guide he had bought in hopes he could find an explanation for what had happened. May he had missed a step? Went a step further than planned? Or just misread some instructions? Deep down, he knew it was futile. His situation was a peculiar one, and the chances this random magic guide he had bought in a shop in the slums of a modern city could provide any sort of sound advice were ridiculously low. Oh, found it. There was an entire chapter dedicated to odd results in any of the exercises proposed by the book. Maybe weirdness wasn''t so rare. Let''s see... No reaction... Gravitational anomalies... Impromptu necromancy... Loss of hair... Whispers of a dead god... Litteral third eye formation... Ah, incredibly detailed introspection and unconscious toolless casting. "So, you followed the first step of this guide and tried to meditate. Yet for some reason, no matter the how and when and where and why, you didn''t simply enter a meditative state which allowed you to feel magical energies but instead went even further and had the chance to witness an everyday miracle, your soul. You are a rare case, my friend, for even some of the most intelligent magic users to exist have never managed to do so. First, let me reassure you, although incredibly rare this isn''t a bad sign. Quite the contrary." Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Oof, that''s a relief. "Despite its name, the Soul Aspect rarely has anything to do with the Soul. Or more precisely, its users don''t. The ability to sense and manipulate magical energies, no matter the name you wish to give them, is tied to the soul, but magic-users rarely interact with souls, even theirs. There is a reason why gods and demons need consent whenever a soul is concerned, after all. It is a primordial force, every soul, no matter how meek, has infinite potential. For a mortal to even see one is rare. Even necromancers, the mages who have the most interactions with souls, usually rely on tools or their perception of other energies to interact with them. Despite common belief, a ghost is not a lost soul, it''s a soul using a bundle of necromantic energies as a body. To truly witness a soul is an incredibly powerful experience, and if you are reading this you should be well aware of what I am referring to." Ok, ghosts are a thing. Nice to know. "In any case, you saw your soul. It could be a sign that you have an incredible level of introspection, but if you are using this book meant for beginners it is highly unlikely to be as simple as that. It could be a gift, each individual''s relation with the Soul Aspect has its little nuances after all. It is a possibility, but not the most common answer. Frankly, most individuals who accidentally interact with their souls when they begin learning magic are simply relatives of entities capable to do so from birth, the most well-known ones being of course gods and demons. You should check your family tree or discuss it with your parents. Oh, it is possible that you hit the genetic lottery and awakened a demonic trait that has laid dormant in your bloodline for centuries, but I have the regret to announce most demonkin are simply the results of demonkin or demon parents, be it through affairs or less... Willing manners." I... I have no idea what applies to me. Could I be super good at introspection thanks to the reincarnation stuff? Just have it as a boon? Or could it be that my body had some... Demonic origins? I have no idea. "I hope this explanation helped ease your worries. Seeing your soul is a sign of magical greatness, not a reason to worry. You should take the time to research your family history and check whether or not you are part of a magical bloodline you were not aware of, some species have unique methods of using magic that can be hereditary and may hinder any other method." I have no idea how to check for that. Maybe the other section about spontaneous magic with no casting equipment will help with that? "So, you tried to meditate, and when you opened your eyes something magical had happened while you weren''t looking even though you had no wand or ring or staff or orb or gauntlet or whatever it is you use to do magic. First, make sure there is no other magic user around that may have simply played a prank on you. If there are none, check for the fae. If there are none, well, you might have a very high magical potential. Some species or bloodlines and even the odd mutant do not need any casting equipment to do their work. Their body does the casting by itself. It''s also possible the casting was made via runes or tattoos or chants, but you should be aware whether or not that''s your case. All in all, this just means you can skip a good part of the early magical exercises to get better acquainted with your tool since you don''t need one. Try to get your powers under control as soon as possible though, no one wants to wake up to their bedroom burning in hellfire just because they had a nightmare." ... Guess I''m a natural at being a wizard? Yay? There is definitely something odd with my body but there''s nothing I can do about it right now. What I can do, however, is to go through the exercises in the book. I don''t want to imagine what could happen if black flames started to pop up at random. Actually, is there a section about the elements or something? "Is there elemental magic? Yes. Is there only elemental magic? No. Is there a full easy-to-read list of all the elements? Not as far as I''m aware. The elements are a much broader and more chaotic subject than Aspects, and since different schools of magic give them different names and sometimes go as far as to argue the specific classification of a simple spell, there is no hope of ever making a complete and detailed objective of elements. What I can give, on the other hand, are my observations. If you wish to know which elements you have an affinity with, there is a simple exercise. Try to fill an empty Everlantern with your magical energies and compare the results to the following list." Ah, great. "A regular flame? Either earth or a non-elemental affinity. A powerful flame? Either wind or fire. A bright flame? Either light, electricity, or fire. A pale flame? Probably death. A dim flame? Either water, ice, or shadow. For hybrid affinities or multiple affinities, I''m sorry to say that this easy, simple, and mostly free test will only cover the most significant one." ... Why isn''t shadow a black flame? "If you somehow got something different, either you are incredibly powerful, have an extremely high affinity, or have the Transformation Aspect. Given the likelihood of the last one and how this guide is addressed to beginners, you''re probably just one of the lucky ones who are born with an incredibly potent affinity." Oh boy. "A blazing inferno? Fire, no doubt. A miniature firenado? Air. A cold blue flame? Either death, water, or ice. A tingling green flame? Nature or life. A brown or beige flame, simply an orb of heat or a crystal? Earth. An orb of light? Light. Black flames or an orb of darkness? Shadows." James kept on reading after that, though at least he was reassured to know his situation wasn''t that impossible. If there were precedents to the things he could do, then he would have examples to follow, techniques to learn. Now free of worries regarding his soul or any possible magical mishaps, he could take the time to go through the training methods noted down in the guide. Who knows, maybe he''d learn how to throw a fireball. That would be cool. Eh, guess MagicIsTragic would be happy to hear about that. Chapter 38 : Shaking things up
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: Wait, you serious? TechnoGogo: Oh no. Think of the balance, James! KillLaKrill: What balance? (Mod)Seagullag: The balance between magic and technology, I assume? The Silence: It is useless. Order is meaningless and quick to be discarded. TechnoGogo: But my OCD! Saray: You have OCD? KillLaKrill: You sure you aren''t just afraid that future debates with Magic will be two against one? MagicIsTragic: It''s not pretty to lie, Techno. TechnoGogo: You''re not pretty. KillLaKrill: Oof. The Silence: Swift, precise, lethal. An admirable execution, despite the uselessness of insults. JamesIsInTheDark: Guys, I just said I began dabbling in magic. That''s no reason to lose your mind. Saray: Don''t pay attention to the drama queens. So, how is it going? JamesIsInTheDark: Oh, pretty good. It''s been around a week now and I can do some basic stuff. KillLaKrill: What kind of stuff? JamesIsInTheDark: You know, things. TechnoGogo: What kind of things? JamesIsInTheDark: You know, stuff. (Mod)Seagullag: I feel like I heard that one somewhere. MagicIsTragic: What are you using? Merlin''s Memoirs? Flamel''s Files? Saray: Wasn''t Flamel an alchemist? MagicIsTragic: Yeah, but he had a side gig as a magic teacher for a few decades. He was no practitioner but hanging around powerful mages for a couple of centuries rubs off on you. Plus, his teachings are among the most affordable ones. Don''t need money when you can make infinite gold. JamesIsInTheDark: I''m using Magic For Dummies by Maurice Dawn. MagicIsTragic: ... JamesIsInTheDark: It was cheap? MagicIsTragic: That''s the equivalent of saying you''re a gamer while only playing match 3 games on your phone. TechnoGogo: James, sorry my dude, but in light of your crimes I forbid you from having any fun for a day. Saray: There are bigger crimes, Techno. KillLaKrill: But none we the common folk can have an impact on. I''m with you, guys. Burn the witch! JamesIsInTheDark: Please spare the witch. (Mod)Seagullag: As a mod, it is my duty to enforce the law of this forum. As a gamer, it is my duty to turn a blind eye to what will follow. JamesIsInTheDark: Et Tu, Brutus? Saray: Seagullag! Think of your honor as a mod! KillLaKrill: Ah! He is a mod, he has no honor. KillLaKrill has been muted by Moderator Seagullag for 60 seconds. Reason: Disrespected a mod. The Silence: Tyranny strikes again. We live in dark times. TechnoGogo: Was that a joke? With Silence, it''s kinda hard to tell. MagicIsTragic: I feel like he''s in a good mood today, so probably a joke. The Silence: I have been informed that, for the following weeks, out of security considering the recent Nightsnatcher attacks, students who live in my area are to stay at home and follow courses online. MagicIsTragic: That''s good news? Saray: Maybe he''s happy to be safe? TechnoGogo: It''s because he can stay in his darkroom, isn''t it. The Silence: Yes. JamesIsInTheDark: I hope for you it''ll be quick. It may sound fun now but maybe it won''t be once some time has passed. The Silence: Shush. JamesIsInTheDark: Uh guys, something is going on outside. Mind if I log out and go check it out? Saray: You should go hide right away. (Mod)Seagullag: You should check, but play it safe. Stay inside, it could be the Nightsnacther. The Silence: Or worse.
James closed the forum''s page and put the phone down, letting Blanche immediately grab it and bring it to the mechanical spider turned home cinema the ratlings used to watch their cartoons. The last week had been, once again, pretty calm. As he had told his friends he had trained to use magic, he just hadn''t specified how far he had gone. Oh, it wasn''t anything incredible, just remote shadow manipulation and shadow bolts, but it was enough long-range for him to feel comfortable with fighting opponents with odd bodies, like Soluble, without needing to rely on his infused gun. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Gun which he took the time to take from its hiding spot behind a loose brick. As he had told his friends, something weird was on. Though the various infused materials he had left in the sewers - the bricks of the lair, some odd pebbles here and there he had used to scout the waters or set up as make-do alarms, and even the infused rats - he could feel vibrations. Small, unnoticeable things, but they had a rhythm to them. It sounded like steps. James quickly went to the place he felt the vibrations were the strongest, and on the way, he pinned down where exactly they were coming from... The surface. Something''s happening on the surface.
Barry and Larry ran through the dark alleys of the slums, followed by a group of twisting humanoid figures, shambling left and right, groaning as despite their odd postures they matched the duo''s speed, and slowly, outpacing it. "La- Larry, huff, how did- how did we even mess with these guys?" "I don''t know Barry! I don''t know!" Barry made the mistake of taking a glance at their pursuers. His face paled as he realized they were getting closer, and his heartbeat got even faster as he took in their morphology - oddly long limbs, asymmetrical body parts, bloated skin, bumps, scars, too many fingers, discolored hair, creaking bones, slowly opening wounds from which black blood flowed... "Patcher. Those are the Patcher''s pets." "You sure?" "OF COURSE I''M SURE LARRY, I CAN RECOGNIZE AN ABOMINATION AGAINST NATURE WHEN I SEE ONE! SO RUN FASTER!" "Sorry, sorry!" "I SAID RUN!" "I''M RUNNING!" Panting, the two tried their best to escape the shambling creatures that were after them. They weren''t fast enough. At one point, half a dozen of the things jumped onto the facade of the nearby building and crawled on it, quickly catching up to Larry and Barry and cutting off their path. The two immediately stopped to avoid running into them and try to find another way out but in a blink of an eye, they were surrounded. As close as they were, the creatures'' smell immediately assaulted the duo''s nose - or more precisely Barry''s, Larry''s superior olfactory sense had been subjected to the rancid smell of rotting diseased flesh from the beginning of the chase. Barry struggled not to puke, barely holding onto his lunch as the strange surreal and grotesque figures of the monsters began to approach them. Patches of skin of different colors, held together by hazardous stitchwork with no rhyme or reason, limbs that did not fit the bodies'' frames, glassy eyes filled with pain, hate, madness, and hunger... Those things were undeniably the Patcher''s work. "I think this is the end, Larry." "I''m sure the boss'' going to save us." "Not this time Larry. I don''t think he even knows what''s happening right now, so how could he save us?" "You just have to hope, Barry." "Well, I hope you''re right." The tallest of the abominations, one of the more heavily modified and less humanoid ones which had the body of some gigantic lizard on which had been grafted a harpy''s and a huge monkey''s legs, the arms of a man with a Sickler''s scythe-like claws, and a woman''s face, "enhanced" with a pale blue jellyfish''s tendrils instead of her hair as well as on her cheeks, stepped forth, salivating as it gazed at the two. "I hope you''re right." The abomination screeched, a sound that resembled the pained screaming of a woman mixed with the roaring of a dozen beasts, and pounced. Barry closed his eyes. Something passed near his face. And he heard a scream. Barry reopened his eyes and immediately turned around to check on Larry. The abomination was quietly struggling, its neck entrapped in a large mechanical hand barely a few centimeters away from Larry''s face. Barry let out a sigh of relief when he saw he was fine before studying their savior. It was tall, at least four times the size of the average person, and made out of different sheets of metal assembled with an oddly impressive amount of small led lights set in lines all around it. It appeared the core of the thing was the front half of a car, the glass replaced by even more sheets, welded to other pieces of metal from which a pair of simple humanoid arms emerged, as well as a pair of short legs. The white paint covering didn''t improve its odd design but admittedly made it a bit easier on the eye. All in all, the thing looked ugly as possible, was oddly proportioned, and looked like it was a miracle it hadn''t already fallen into pieces. And yet it had saved them and was currently single-handedly holding a monster that could break down a house. "FEAR NOT CITIZEN, FOR I HAVE COME." Larry had stars in his eyes as he stared at the thing. Barry didn''t share his childlike wonder, but he couldn''t deny he was thankful someone had taken the time to save them. "Uh, thanks for the save." "WORRY NOT, CITIZEN." The mechanical hand holding the neck of the abomination began to move, crushing the monster''s spine before throwing its corpse at its fellow creatures. "I, TECHLORD, WIELDING THE TECH MECH, WILL NOT ALLOW ANY CITIZEN OF THIS CITY TO BE DEVOURED BY MONSTERS." Barry found the introduction a bit gaudy, but who was he to judge. Larry on the other hand had something else to say. "Hey, you''re that kid from last time! Glad to see the Vigilante thing is going well!" "Wait, that''s the same kid? The one in that weird armor that got trounced by those guys in leather suits?" "PLEASE EVACUATE THE PREMISE." The mech took a step forward. "I HAVE MONSTERS TO KILL." The two brothers didn''t dally any longer and immediately fled, though Larry took the time to wave at Techlord on the way out. The young vigilante simply took a quick look at them to make sure they were safe before quickly stepping on a couple of monsters that tried to go after the duo as they ran, shaking the ground. No longer having to worry about civilians, Sam, alias Techlord, grinned as he pushed a button in his cockpit, immediately a long tube space from his mech''s right arm, a tube which quickly began to launch fire at the shambling abominations as they all rushed at him. Their flesh burned incredibly well, most barely taking a dozen steps before falling and screaming. Those that managed to reach the mech either got stomped by its feet or stabbed by knives that launched out of holes in the mech''s body, a security measure Sam had developed just for this type of scenario. It took only a minute for all of the abominations to stop moving. Sam took the time to burn each one''s corpse before putting out the fires with a water-firing tube set up in the mech''s left arm. Inside the mech''s cockpit, Sam was grinning. All of his hard work had paid off. This mech, although it had cost him a little fortune to gather everything required to build it, had managed to take out a group of monsters that he was certain must have been even stronger than the guys that had managed to beat him despite his armor. With this, he would be able to defend the inhabitants of the slums. He wouldn''t have to worry about Villains anymore. He was on the right track to save this city from the corruption that had settled within. "An impressive demonstration, I must say." The Tech Mech turned around, through the different camera lenses set up all over it Sam got to take a look at the newcomer to whom this strange voice with a Draskian accent belonged. "To make such a weapon with only items found in this area is a sign of great talent. If possible, I''d like to recruit you to our side." Sam''s eyes widened. What was he doing here? He shouldn''t have been in this area of the city. Maybe he was confusing him with someone else? "Tell me, Techlord, was it? Would you be interested in a position in the Blood Angels?" No. There was no doubt. A Draskian voice coming from a cyborg of black metal containing a burning fire who worked for the Blood Angels. "SUNBURN." The cyborg chuckled behind his mask. His cold blue eyes stared intensely at the cockpit, his expression unreadable beyond that little laugh. "WHY ARE YOU HERE?" "Despite a recent gift, the Patcher considered we still owed him a favor. He chose to use it to have me fetch a group of escapees, unfinished projects who somehow left their cages. Escapees that you just annihilated." Sam''s heart skipped a beat. Cold as he was, Sunburn was no doubt mad that he had just ruined his mission. The Patcher would consider that the Blood Angels owed him an even bigger favor. If he agreed to work for them, maybe Sunburn would forgive him. But the Angels... "I... I WILL NOT WORK FOR THE ANGELS. YOU BRING TOO MUCH PAIN TO TOO MANY PEOPLE." The cyborg stayed silent for a moment. "A regrettable choice." Before he knew it, Sam''s vision was filled with flames and he felt himself being thrown backward. Before his body had the time to react to what he was seeing, he felt the entire mech hitting something - a wall, the ground? He didn''t know. All he knew was pain and fire. The metal in the cockpit was burning red and the plastic was melting onto him. Even his armor had become unbearably hot, scorching his skin. Outside, the mech was burning, hallway stuck in an old bricked house. Sunburn simply stared at the rising inferno as ashes and smoke filled the air. "It managed to take a hit. What admirable work. Such a shame such talent belonged to such a hotheaded fool." The Draskian cyborg left the scene calmly, uncaring to the spreading fire. After a few steps, he stood still before suddenly two small explosions occurred beneath his feet, sending him leaping dozens of meters into the air. Soon he was gone, the only signs he''d been there being black marks on the ground and the burning wreckage of the mech. The street was silent, aside from the roaring of flames. Then there was a small grinding noise. A manhole cover began to move. A black tendril came out of the opening. Chapter 39 : Welcome to the darkness Sam''s head was pounding. He felt like he''d gotten run by a pack of Sicklers before being roasted in an incompetent ogre chef''s barbecue. He was struggling to even open his eyes, never mind moving his limbs. Still, he could feel he was on something... Soft? Hard? No, something soft but thin placed on something hard. The air felt weird, somewhat humid, and even moldy, and there was some abominable smell coming from somewhere. After what felt like hours of struggling, he managed to open a small crack between his eyelids. It wasn''t much but it let him appreciate the utter darkness of the room he was in. At the same time, he successfully managed to move his fingers, letting them run across whatever it was he was laying on. A bunch of pillows, if he guessed correctly. Time passed, and despite usually being able to handle being alone the situation quickly got on Sam''s nerves. Was it the grogginess fading, letting him begin to truly take in the situation? He didn''t know and frankly, he didn''t care. Now that the calmness of unconsciousness was gone, his usual active mind got back on track. Where was he? What happened? Why was he on a pile of pillows? Hopefully, pillows meant he wasn''t dead unless whatever god that picked up his soul decided to make some budget cuts. What was he doing? He had finished the Tech Mech, done some basic testing, decided to go on patrol, had heard screams, had found those two weirdos who had helped him out the last time, fought against a horde of weird shambling creatures that seemed right out of a mad scientist''s mind, and then... Sunburn. The flames. THE FLAMES- "Squeak?" The noise brought Sam back. He was very thankful for the distraction as he tried to figure out what it was, it sounded like some of the rats back in the Junkland but there was something different. It felt a little deeper, a little more significant, a little more... Intelligent. Sam struggled to emit a sound for an entire minute before a weak little something left his lips. "Hel... Hello?" Nothing answered him, apart from the pitty patter of small feet leaving the room at an impressive speed. He didn''t even have the time to ask whatever it was to stay. He tried to stand up, pushing off his torso from the pile of pillows with his weak shaking arms but his efforts were futile, immediately falling back and hurting his entire body. It looked like he would be left alone with his thoughts once more. Taking care to avoid thinking about his encounter with Sunburn, or more precisely what happened when the Villain was done talking, Sam pondered about his life. He had tried to be a Vigilante once and dramatically failed, having to be saved from certain doom by a duo of Coreless idots who apparently had a history of running into trouble. Then, he had invested all of his resources into building the greatest weapon he could, an incredible mech that could put some of the Empress'' works to shame, and managed to fight off a horde of incredibly powerful monsters to save the same pair of idiots. It all went so well, too. No issue with his creation, no casualty, the horde got stomped on so easily... And then Sunburn. No matter what, Sam couldn''t get the Draskian cyborg out of his thoughts. That man, in a fraction of a second, had destroyed all of his hopes and dreams. A single attack, one he hadn''t even seen coming. Was this his fate? To always fall at the hands of a Villain whenever things went his way? What was the point of fighting if it always ended in defeat? Why try to resist when it always failed. Why live. "Ah, I see you''re awake." Sam perked up. Someone was there. The voice sounded male, smooth, calm yet in control. It sounded human, but there was something. A nameless and silent echo behind every word, something that spoke not to him but something within him. Or something linked to him? "Who... Who are you?" "My name doesn''t matter right now. What matters, however, is yours." "My name... I''m..." Who was he, really? Some grandiose hero of justice and technology or... "Sam... I''m Sam..." "Sam? Well then Sam, what happened to you?" "I... I was stupid... Tried to play hero... Eh... Look where it got me..." "Ah, so you''re not a Villain then?" "No... I''m nothing..." "Oh, if you truly were nothing then you wouldn''t exist now, would you?" Was... Was that a threat? Sam couldn''t be sure. His fatigued eyes and the darkness of the room made it hard to even distinguish the silhouette of the man he was talking to, so reading his body language was out of the question. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "I must say, I''m no expert on mechanics, but that robot you were in was impressive." "Not a robot... A mech..." "Ah, pardon me. I''m not familiar with all of the correct terms to use. Even so, it resisted really well to that inferno you were in. It may be the only reason why you''re still alive now. That and your... Armor? Suit? Augments? Mods?" "Armor..." "Ah, I had it right the first time. As I said, it saved you." "I don''t feel like I''ve been saved..." "Well, most people who are heavily burned feel this way I believe." "Burned..." "I tried my best, but the fire had already spread. The heat was also so intense that by the time I got to you, the puddle of melted plastic was too widespread to ignore." "Puddle... Melted plastic?" "It... I am no medical professional, and I don''t trust any of the local healers, so I had to try my best." "What did you do..." "Nothing you wouldn''t have wanted, I assure you." "Answer me..." "..." "I said..." "I had to skin you." "Wha..." "I took a clean knife, an enchanted one, and cut off the layer of skin that was covered by plastic. I removed as much of it as I could by hand when it was still hot, but it cooled down..." "You ripped off my skin..." "I cut it off. I''m no barbarian." "How bad is it..." "Well, that and the regulars burns put together..." "Could you... Show me? Or put on any light..." "Ah, I forgot how dark this room may be for you. Wait for a second, I''ll be right back." Oddly enough Sam heard no footstep heading out of the room. Even the rat had made some noise. Had the man lied or was he an expert in stealth? Or maybe Sam''s senses had simply gone into overdrive after thinking back on... The flames... But who was this man? What he said sounded like he had saved Sam from the fire, yet he hadn''t seen anyone nearby when Sunburn appeared. And apparently, he had some kind of night vision, since he had no trouble seeing in the dark? Where were they anyway? Some kind of basement? A light brightness appeared in the distance, held by a spindly limb of a black figure. The light was soft, easy on the eyes, and let Sam see a bit more of the place he was in. It hadn''t even registered on his mind that he straightened his back and was now sitting, so preoccupied with what he saw. Black bricks. On the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Beautifully carved, they looked like they were made of some kind of marble. Was Sam in some kind of underground church of the dark gods? A cultist hideout? How could a building look this fancy and yet be completely empty? It was incredibly off-putting. And then there was the figure. His savior, Sam supposed. It looked vaguely humanoid, with a head on a torso, but everything besides that was an eldritch nightmare. The limb holding the lantern was a tentacle coming out of the figure''s shadow, or was it its body? The two appeared to melt together in the light of the lantern. For all Sam knew the creature standing before him might very well be the shadow while the one on the ground was the real body. What horrible fate awaited him? "I hope you''ll pardon the decor. Visitors are few, and I''ll admit we live without much." "It''s... It''s fine." "Now, how about we get back on track. As I said, your wounds were extensive, and it took a lot of work to get all of that plastic and the occasional piece of metal away, so I''d appreciate it if you didn''t ruin your bandages." Now that the figure mentioned it, Sam looked down to see his arms, torso, and legs covered in white cloth. Running his fingers on his back and his head let him feel similar bandages there. "I... I didn''t feel them..." "Likely a side effect from the burns." "Or you ripping my skin off." "Or that. As I said, I''m no medical professional." "Yeah, that one''s obvious." The figure chuckled. "In any case, what do you plan to do now?" "I... I can leave?" "Oh, you''re free to do so of course." "I... I just kinda assumed you were going to sacrifice me to a dark god or something." "I do not approve of this kind of discrimination, but I can''t deny this place is not the pinnacle of welcoming." "Sorry, sir...?" "Ah, sir will do. So, you plan to leave? And then?" "I... I don''t know." "If you wish to talk about it..." "It''s just... All my life I''ve wanted to be a hero, to help people, to save them from monsters." "Ah, so you wish to join the Union?" "Not a Hero, a hero. I don''t want to be a supercop, I want to help people. Get rid of dangers." "Ah, Vigilante then?" "Yeah, it''s what I tried but... You saw the results." "Yes, indeed. I saw a beautiful piece of improvised machinery." Now he was getting on his nerves. Couldn''t he see Sam was down and didn''t want some stupid encouragement? He wasn''t a kid who made a bad drawing, he was someone who just lost everything and got horribly disfigured. "You saw a burning wreckage." "Maybe, but you could try again." "How? I have nothing left. All I''ve had went into this thing." "You know... I could always use someone with your skills." That was it. "And who the hell are you? You keep avoiding the question!." The figure slithered away, giving Sam some room. "You may call me... Silhouette." "Well, ''Silhouette'', I still know nothing about you, for all I know you could be a Villain. Why would I want to work for you?" "I can pay you. As for what I want..."
What do I want? The teen''s question had awakened something in James. So far, he had lived day by day, never worrying about the long-term, but the kid had a point. What did James want to do with this second life, past surviving? Open a pizzeria? Become a politician? A Hero? There were so many paths available to him, which one was the right one? What do I want? Security, for sure. There was a reason he''d been so cautious at first, and still was. By all accounts, he could simply try to go to the main city via the sewers and find himself a place there, yet he had chosen to stay in the slums. In their little hidey-hole. What do I want? Their home. "What I want is to make a home. A safe place. Somewhere I won''t worry about tomorrow, about pain, about hate, about violence. A little somewhere for the lost to take a rest. For new lives to begin." James put a tentacle on the teen''s shoulder, taking care to avoid touching his wounds. "A place with no danger. Where everyone has their chances." The teen, Sam, stayed silent for a few seconds. "What do you need?" "Well, setting up a light system would be nice, not everyone can see in the dark." "I''m a technology expert, not an electrician." "Well, what can you do then?" The teen grinned. "Let me show you what Techlord can do." Chapter 40 : Preparations The view of a teen covered in bandages following a dark figure with some eldritch features in a building made of nothing but dark bricks, only lit up by a lantern in which burned a pure black flame, would probably confuse and unsettle most. Case in point, James had to admit that behind the Silhouette persona he felt pretty weird about the whole thing. He felt like he was abusing the kid''s current situation to better his own, but at the same time, Sam didn''t seem to mind. "So, dark bricks." "Yes." "Everywhere." "Yes." "Seems a bit much." "They are durable, easy to acquire, and sufficiently artistically pleasing." "Kinda emo looking." "Says Techlord." "Silhouette ain''t better." "It has finesse. Besides, I''m not the one who came up with it." "Really?" "Some thugs I scared away from my... Employees? Yes, employees. Some thugs went after them, I scared those and their leader came up with the name." "Employees?" "People I pay to do some work for me." "About that, what''s the pay?" "Well, I pay the pair 500 Xerins a week..." "You pay them WHAT?" "I''m not from around here, so my understanding of the local economy is still questionable. Is it such a big sum?" "The average guy in the main city probably makes 1500 Xerins a month, those in the nicer areas around 2000." "Oh. That is quite the sum then." "How did you even get all that money?" "Tata, no questioning the origins. Mine, the money''s, or the materials." "Guess that''s fair. So, what about my cut then?" "The pair doesn''t work full time, but they''re two. So I was thinking maybe 400 Xerins for your work, with a monthly allowance of 500 to buy what you need to work?" "That sounds... Fine. I could use more, but that''s already better than my Vigilante gig." Sam looked around, staring at the walls. "Is this hallway really long or something?" "Not as long as you think. You''re just slow." "I''m not slow." "Sam, you just awoke from a three days long sleep after being hit by an explosion. The fact you''re even able to walk in the first place is impressive, so a slight limp is nothing to be ashamed of." "Don''t call me Sam, call me Tech- wait, three days?" "Indeed, three days." "Guess there''ll be nothing to scavenge from the wreckage now. Hell, my old base''s probably empty..." "Oh, do not worry. Your base may be lost but I sent a few of my minions to gather as much as they could from the mech." "Minions? Didn''t you say employees earlier?" "They are... Two different groups. These don''t want to be paid, they just want to live nearby." "So your little ''safe place'' talk worked on them?" "Oh no, they''re the ones who found me first." "How?" "We''re in the sewers, Sam. There''s always someone watching, listening." "I told you, it''s Techlord, not Sam. But the sewers? Guess that explains the smell..." "You''ll get used to it. Ah, here we are." They had reached their destination, some sort of hall with multiple doorways yet no door. The area lit up by the lantern was pretty small, and oddly enough it appeared the light worked like a bubble. Past a certain point, Sam could see absolutely nothing. "Uh... If you say so..." "Come, follow me." "Not like I have a choice..." The room they entered looked like some kind of workshop if it could be called that. Different piles of various things, screws, nails, metal scraps, pieces of wood, and the likes, a corner with a bunch of tools, and here and there some half-finished constructions, from small armor to weird gadgets. "This is our little crafter''s room." "Who... Who did this?" A small furry head emerged from one of the piles of materials, carrying a screw between its teeth, and began looking around. "Ah, here he is. Techlord, allow me to introduce you to Goliath." The rest of the rating''s body left the pile of screws and he ran up to James and Sam, sitting on his hindlegs once he reached them and taking the screw between his paws. "A rat?" "Yes, a rat." Goliath looked up to the two humanoids, staring at Sam before quickly shifting his gaze. "Oh, is this the one you brought back from the surface? Hi! I''m Goliath!" "Yes, Goliath. This is Techlord, and he too will be using this room to build creations to help us." "A talking rat?" "Yes Techlord, Goliath is a rat and he can talk. Now, could you please focus and tell me what you think of this room?" "It''s... Not good." "You don''t like my workshop?" "Listen... Goliath... This place is just an organized mess with a few odd projects you started one after the other, never taking the time to finish one." "And it''s... Not good? But Doctor Dandelion said that you should let your mind run wild!" "Who the hell is Doctor Dandelion?" "Captain Cyan''s toolmaker!" "And who is Captain Cyan?" The ratling stared why at Sam''s face as soon as he uttered these words before shifting his gaze to James, helpless as his eldest adoptive son began to tear up. "Why do I feel like I just committed a war crime." Four furry figures rushed into the room faster than Sam could think and immediately hugged their brother, forming a cuddle pile that would have been adorable had it not been born from sadness. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. One head emerged from the pile, with a lighter grey fur than the others, and stared daggers at Sam. "What did you do." "Nothing! I just asked who Captain Cyan was!" The four recomforting ratlings gasped at that, even their usually stoic representative, Lucille, couldn''t help but drop her jaw. "You... Don''t know Captain Cyan?" James put himself between Sam and the ratlings, taking care to form a small tentacle to rub Goliath''s back. "Before this situation escalates any further, let me introduce everyone. Techlord, these are Lucille, David, Foudre, and Blanche. You already met Goliath. He''s the one that''s crying." "But I didn''t-" "Children, this is our guest and newest employee, Techlord. He will now join Goliath as a tinkerer." The smallest of the rats looked Sam dead in the eye. "I will gut you." "David, no death threats to our employees." "He made Goliath cry." "A simple misunderstanding. Now everyone, make peace and calm down. I''ll get Mischief to bring us some sweets for you to snack on while we plan for what comes next." Blanche perked up. "I demand the hooligan apologizes to our sweet little Goliath." "But what did I do-" "Now now Techlord, apologize." "Pff... I''m sorry, alright?" Blanche looked unconvinced but Foudre nodded. "Grudges between allies must be avoided." "A very wise decision. Now then, I had hoped to have you make something before we would have a meeting, but since we''re all already there..." "No, wait. Give me five seconds. I may not like the place but the rat- I mean Goliath did a proper job organizing it." The large ratling perked up at that. "Really?" "Yeah yeah. So, what do you want? A weapon?" "It could be useful. Could you make something easy to use, effective and cheap to maintain?" "Yeah, should be doable. Give me five minutes and it''ll be ready." "You heard that, children? Let''s give Techlord some time to work. You could watch an episode of Captain Cyan until he''s ready?" ""Yeah!"" The cuddle pile left as one into another room before Sam had the time to blink. "I still don''t know what the hell Captain Cyan is supposed to be." "Do not worry about it. I''ll leave the lantern with you, come join us when you''re ready. While they watch their cartoons I''ll prepare a little something." "Uh, sure thing... Boss?" "Call me whatever you want, so long as it''s not something like Shadowlord or the likes." Sam groaned while James chuckled as he left the room, leaving the technological genius to his work. Sam sighed before quickly gathering a few pieces of each pile of materials and setting them down in a corner of the room. Picking up the admittedly pretty good tools considering they were in the sewers of the slums, Sam quickly began to assemble the first thing he had in mind when he had heard Silhouette''s request, only briefly stopping when a weird rumbling sound began but quickly ignored it. If it was important, his new employer would probably handle it.
"You won''t escape this time, Revenant!" "Cyan! You think you got me cornered? Ah! You''ll never be rid of me, Cyan. Until next time! Ahahahahahah!" "Curses! He phased through the floor of the airship! Blue Boy, Green Girl, be on the lookout. Revenant never leaves without leaving a nasty surprise behind." "Kids, could you pause the show? I think Techlord''s almost done." "But dad, we''re only halfway through!" "Tut-tut, you can pause it and catch up later." "Fiiine." "By the way old man, what was up with all that noise?" "I was making a war room." "Oooh?" "No, that doesn''t mean we''re going to war." "What''s the point of calling it a war room if you don''t use it to go to war? It''s dumb. You''re dumb." "Pay attention to your attitude, young rat. Especially since we have Techlord now." "About that, father. How are we going to house a human? You don''t need anything and we don''t need much, but him?" "I''ll keep on digging to expand the lair and make him a small apartment, at that point either he''ll have to handle making some wild plumbing or I''ll have to make some searches online." "And the food?" "A fridge, Larry and Barry will just have to come more often or bring larger quantities." "And entertainment? We''re already struggling with one phone for six." "I''ll buy a new phone. Or ask him to fix one of the two still uninfused ones we have." "I do not think this will work out as well as you plan, father." "If I didn''t know any better, I''d say you didn''t want him to stay here." "It''s... Father. You make a distinction between the person you are when alone and with us and the one you are with other." "Oh, like a secret identity." "Exactly, Foudre. And I think mixing the two isn''t a good idea father. You can''t be this ''Silhouette'', calm, collected, and in charge, and at the same time sit down with us to watch Captain Cyan." James was about to answer before he stopped himself, taking a moment to think carefully about Lucille''s words. "You''re right. I can''t be both at the same time. I can''t be James and Silhouette simultaneously." "See?" "But I won''t be kicking Sam out either. You saw how he was when I brought him in. Covered in blood and ashes. I felt like I was carrying a corpse." "We can wait until he''s healed and-" "You don''t understand Lucille. He''s lost everything. "Then you can give some money to buy back what he lost." "You... You don''t get it. It''s not about the things, it''s about... Argh, how do I explain it... Do you remember the day we met?" "Yes." "I was there for you. I want to be there for him." "Why?" "Because it''s the right thing to do." "No." The rat''s answer shocked James. "What?" "I said that wasn''t the reason you did it. If it was, you''d let the other two stay here as well. You wouldn''t need to use that Silhouette thing, you''d be honest with him. So, why do you want to be there for him, for us?" "I..." James took in a deep breath - or more accurately pretended to, considering his lack of lungs. "Because no one was there for me. Sure, there was that homeless guy who tried to call an ambulance, but that''s it. No one to hold my hand. To tell me it''d all be okay. To ease the pain. Just the cold feeling of my blood flowing out of my body. When I saw your parents'' bodies and that spider going after you, it reminded me of how unfair things were. When I saw that kid in his burning mech..." "... I see." "You''re right that I can''t be both James and Silhouette at the same time, so I''ll expand the lair and install some doors to keep my Silhouette stuff away from our family life, alright?" Lucille didn''t seem convinced, but in the end, nodded. "... Alright." "You won''t have to interact with him if you don''t want to, you know." "I will. Because you need all the help you can get." "Thank you, Lucille." "Now then, didn''t you say that he was nearly finished, father?" "Ah, right. Let''s go kids. Ah, it may be best if you call me Silhouette when other people are around, alright?" "Roger that, old man." "David, attitude."
As they entered the war room, the ratlings took in the new decor. The place was big, even by a humanoid''s standards, and was probably the largest room in the entire lair. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of black bricks infused with shadows, as usual, but they were a lot of additional upgrades. In the center of the room was a large table shaped like a circle, leaving a large hole in the middle. A dozen seats were positioned around the table, both the seats and table were made of black infused stone. On the walls were engraved multiple maps, on the wall directly in front of the entrance was an approximation map of Zalcien, based on the maps available on the Internet despite the censorship. It showed a circular city plan divided into four quarters by major roads in each cardinal direction, with the North-Eastern quarter having an odd shape in the middle occupying more than half of it. On the wall to the left of the entrance was a map of the sewers, at least the areas that James, the ratlings, and Mischief had explored. On the wall to the right of the entrance was a map of the lair, with each room being properly labeled such as "war room", "storage", "workshop"... And on the wall where the entrance was situated was an engraving of James'' Silhouette persona, tentacles out. "So? What do you think, children?" They appeared to be mildly impressed, but... "Ain''t as good as Captain Cyan''s base." "David!" "Admit it, Blanche, you thought the same." "Yes, but I didn''t say it. Have you no manners or respect?" "No, I thought it''d be obvious by now." As the brother-sister duo got almost ready to fight, Sam entered the room, carrying the lantern in one hand and a strange contraption in the other. "So... That''s the center of operations? Kinda empty, no?" "Well, there are few of us, Techlord. And most of them are small." "No, I mean the place. No decoration, nothing." "There are engravings of multiple maps I could find on the walls." "Is there?" Sam approached the wall with a map of the sewers and looked very closely, his nose nearly touching the stone as he ran his fingers between the bricks. "So, Boss, personal advice. Engravings in a dark room on pitch-black stuff? Bad idea." "It''s not like I have buckets of paint laying around. If you dislike it that much, find a way to improve it." "Hey, I''m here to build gadgets, not become an architect." "Well, speaking of gadgets, I see you finished your first order?" James formed a tentacle and pointed to the thing Sam was holding. It looked vaguely gun-shaped, but a bit closer to a hairdryer than a weapon. "Ah, yeah. A weak electrogun. Not much I could do with basic batteries but it packs enough of a punch to knock out a Coreless." "So... It''s a taser, then? One with a very good energy usage considering the size of the battery, but just a taser?" "No, an electrogun. As in, it shoots bolts of energy. This thing is way better than a taser." "Oooh, I see. How many charges does it have?" "I dunno, a couple of shots? Hard to know with these batteries, you never know how used they are." "And... Could you take out the battery and show it to me?" "Uh... Sure?" Sam began to tinker with the gadget until a lid opened and a small battery, the ones you would usually put in a toy or a weak flashlight, jumped halfway out. James carefully picked it up and, once he was sure it wasn''t connected to the electrogun anymore, infused it with shadows. The process was quick and before Sam had the time to ask what was happening the battery had been replaced by a transparent black cylinder in which small sparks occasionally flashed. Wordlessly Sam gave James the weapon when a tentacle approached his hand and James put back the newly infused battery into the electrogun. After having made sure the lid was properly closed and the weapon could be used with no issues, James aimed it at one of the stone seats and fired. A small bolt of black electricity immediately left the weapon and hit the seat, the stone instantly getting covered by sparks as it began to fume. It took a few seconds before it stopped, the seat still fuming. Sam, the ratlings, and even James - though no one would know thanks to the lack of facial features and body language - looked in shock at the result of the, well, electric shock. "Did... Did you just electrocute stone? How?" "Magic, I think. In any case, how many of those do you think you could make Techlord?" "Half a dozen or so? The shell is easy, the real problem is turning the energy into an attack and finding enough energy sources to make it a viable weapon, it''s why I never bothered making it a permanent part of the armor." "Could you bring me the materials used to make one, please?" "... Why?" "I''m curious as to what would happen if every part of it went through the same upgrade. Aren''t you?" "... I''ll be right back." Chapter 41 : The power of shadows James watched over the ratlings as they trained in the newly enhanced gym. While Sam got back to work, James had decided to enlarge the room to be closer to an actual gym''s size, although a small one. It did become bigger than the war room, of course, had to make some space for all of the new equipment James had decided to install. It wasn''t much, a bigger obstacle course than the old one the ratlings sometimes used, some black stone weights, and more importantly a bunch of simple stone dummies - they couldn''t keep on testing weapons in the field or on seats, after all. Though, thinking about it, the minimalist style of those dummies combined with the shadow infusion makes them look a little me... I should probably change that at some point. It was as this stray thought passed through James'' mind that Sam, still covered in bandages, joined him. "So... I finished the black prototype." "Magnificient. Any complications?" "I, uh... Remember how I said I could probably make a few more?" "Yes?" "I''m going to need some new tools first." "Oh. This troublesome?" "I don''t know what the hell it is you do to things with your shadow stuff-" "I personally call it ''infusion''." "-but it makes them much more durable. Usually, I cheat my way through by melting bad metal parts together with only the core of the gadget being worth anything, but since you upgraded everything I had to rough up the tools a bit to make things assemble." "Is now a good time to mention I can somewhat fuse infused items together?" "I... I''d have appreciated that an hour ago, boss." "I haven''t tested it with different materials yet, but it''s how I made this entire structure, I dug up a basic area then I infused the bricks that constitute the walls of the sewers - strangely there isn''t any dirt, only bricks and stones - and then compacted them together to make these rooms." "Well, I still need new tools, so no testing that out for now. On the other hand, we can test THIS!" Sam raised his arm to show off the second electrogun he had just finished, this one entirely black. "Is it charged with a regular battery as I asked?" "Yup. Not sure how it''s going to react though." "It''s why we''re testing it." "I... I mean, that''s not wrong, but-" "Commencing test. Everyone, please evacuate the dummy area." The ratlings, who were only running around in the obstacle course, still took care to leave the room and stay at the doorframe. Seeing the little rodents'' behavior, Sam slowly took a few steps back from James as he aimed at a random dummy and fired. Much like last time, a small bolt of electricity fired out of the weapon, though this one was white with hints of yellow, purple, and blue mixed into it instead of black. Once it impacted the dummy, electricity encompassed it, running everywhere before stopping after a few seconds. "Techlord, analysis." "Eh, it''s alright. It''s what the other one should have done by default, except stronger." "Could you put a number on that?" "I''d say it''s two or three times stronger than the default one? Not sure how many shots like that it can make though, since it''s a regular battery." "And compared to our last test?" "I dunno, the bolt itself isn''t that different but I have no idea what the black stuff would do to a living thing." "Alright, we''ll have to test that at some point. Now, pass me the infused battery." Sam took out the black crystallized battery they had used to power the regular electrogun out of his pocket - or rather a bundle of bandages he had fashioned into a pocket to free his hands, considering his old Techlord suit was no more - and gave it to a black tentacle that James had sent his way. "Ah, thank you." Sam looked at his new boss while he exchanged the batteries. "You sure about this? The black gun packed a punch, just like that thing, the two combined..." "Better test it now than in an emergency, no?" James aimed the electrogun once more, aiming at a different dummy to make sure that all damages could be attributed to the right shots. "Second round of testing. Be ready." James fired and a bolt of black electricity immediately left the weapon, though this one was much stronger than the last two and seemed somewhat unhinged, wild, closer to a condensed lightning bolt than an enhanced zap. As it impacted the dummy, the bolt somehow became even more chaotic, creating a cage of black sparks that enveloped the poor stone dummy as some even entered the construct, making the stone shake and crack as it began to twist in odd shapes, as though it were a living thing getting electrocuted and its muscles were contracting in shock. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. They all were silent, too disturbed by the sight to talk. Surely it would stop soon, right? Anytime now. Anytime now... "Can I get one like that?" "No, David. No." "Oh come on!" At this point the electricity finally stopped, leaving only a featureless dummy twisted into a pose of pure agony somehow. "... Uh... Is... Is that thing alive? Because it definitely looks in pain." "That is a very valid concern, Techlord. Let me check." James approached the dummy, taking care to leave a certain safety distance in case some aftereffects lingered around. James focused on his sense that allowed him to feel his connection with infused items and confirmed the dummy truly was as lifeless as it had been when he first made it by manipulating infused stone. He did notice however that its internal structure was extremely damaged, whereas the one of the previous test dummy and the seat were only weakened. James called out to Sam and the ratlings. "I can confirm the dummy is not alive!" Sam sighed in relief. "Oh, great. Accidentally creating life in an experiment is every inventor''s nightmare." Goliath looked weirdly at the bandaged teen. "I thought it was great?" "Purposefully creating artificial life is great, because it''s hard to do. Accidents, however, are horrible. You have nothing prepared in case it goes rogue, you have nothing prepared to take care of it..." James joined back with the group as he stored the weapon in himself. "You know, it doesn''t sound that different from the usual accidental conception." "Babies don''t have rocket launchers." "Ah, true. At least I think so? Considering all of the oddities I''ve seen in Zalcien thus far, I wouldn''t be surprised by a baby with explosive powers." "That''s... Yeah, alright, demonkin and the likes are probably a nightmare for regular human parents. So, what now?" "Well, since these weapon tests proved conclusive, I propose to put back the infused battery in the regular model and a regular battery in the infused model. Then, I''m going to give you the infused electrogun while my other two employees get the regular one. Considering how much trouble they tend to get in and how many more tasks they''ll have to soon, a way to defend themselves would be for the best." "You''re going to let me, the guy who''s going to stay here for a while, have a weapon and only give them one for two?" "When you meet them, you''ll understand why." "... Sure..." "Until then, we should probably do something about you." "What?" "Unless you plan on wearing nothing but bandages for the foreseeable future - which you are free to do, by the way - you''re going to need a new suit." "Yeah, but wouldn''t it be better to wait for the new tools to incorporate them into the suit?" "Now that you say it out loud, yes, it''s probably the wisest choice. No tools for you to work with, nothing for me to infuse... Guess we''ll have to wait until those two come back." Or I could get to the surface and purchase everything myself, but despite all the inspiring good guy speech I don''t want to leave him alone with the kids, not yet at least. He seems nice, but if a fight breaks out I''m not sure what would happen. David would probably get rid of what little skin he has left, though. "How long will that take?" "A day or so? They''re supposed to come by once every week, but depending on how things go up there they don''t come around the same time." "So, what do we do until then?" "We could..." "Oh! I know!" Both of them looked down at Goliath as the enthusiastic ratling raised a paw. "We could watch Captain Cyan!" Lucille sighed as she looked at her brother. "Goliath, don''t you remember what we talked about earlier?" "Yes, but there''s nothing else for everyone to do!" "We could train." Blanche scoffed at that. "We can, but not mummy boy over there. What can he do then?" "I don''t know, he could work on some blueprints or-" James fakely coughed to garner everyone''s attention. "Considering the recent events Techlord went through, this much work in a day will be enough. As our latest addition, I can not let him use the phone, it would be unfair to the members of Mischief who have been curious but were denied, but the rest of you can manage your schedule as you like. If one of you wishes to use the phone for entertainment and he just so happens to be in the room, so be it." Goliath lit up as a little ratty smile formed on his snout. "Thank you! Come here Tech, I''ll show you Captain Cyan!" Goliath jumped to take Sam''s hand and began to rush into the entertainment room, the bandaged teen having to bend not to lose the rat''s paw as he let himself be taken, complaining as he went. "It''s Techlord, not ''Tech''..." Once the two were out of the room, Lucille immediately glared at James. "You''re too soft with him." "Maybe. But you''re still kids. Plus, it will be good for him to have a friend outside of us." "What will he think?" "Sam? I think it''ll also be good for him. People who put up a tough facade usually just need a friend." She sighed. "Blanche, Foudre, David, what are you going to do?" "Oh, I wanted to go kill some stuff." "Oh, disgusting. I had plans to use the phone, but now that it''s with those two... Foudre, would you be interested in some martial art training?" "Sure." "... I guess I''ll be coming with you, David. Real opponents are the best way to improve." James looked at them all go before he went to the storage area, the place where they stored anything that wasn''t money or materials to be used. He took out the infused battery from the infused electrogun and exchanged it with the regular battery before placing the infused one in the normal electrogun - which Sam had placed there when he had taken the second battery earlier. After that was done, something caught James'' metaphorical eye. He formed a tentacle and took one of the two non-infused phones he had left from their little heist on the Blood Angels'' hideout. James stared at the black screen, still as unresponsive as ever. It would be for the best that Larry and Barry also had a phone, wouldn''t it? Communications would be much easier... James stored the phone in his body and left the room to go to his personal one, the place where he meditated and did most of his magic training. He checked via his shadow connections that everyone was still busy and, after seeing that they were, faked taking in a deep breath to give himself some courage. Better be safe than sorry... He began to infuse the phone, mentally clenching his teeth as he tried his best to stay awake and conscious. Being drunk for a bit is fine, but let''s hope I won''t pass out this time...
In the depths of the murky waters of the sewer canals near the heart of the slums, a bundle of wrapped melted plastic and metal fused to human skin floated in the currents before getting stuck on a red fleshy "moss" patch''s extended tendril. The tendril brought the bundle back to the surface and dropped it onto itself, attracted to the human flesh it could sense. As the bundle fell it hit the ribs of a human skeleton halfway consumed by the moss, any sort of cloth having long dissolved, the only things left on it being a pair of large glasses and a strange amulet, a round copper one with an engraving of a tree which branches formed a hand holding a green gem, the gem being very real and inserted in the amulet. The bundle rolled a little on the moss patch before more tendrils grew and settled it into place, a bit of human skin touching the green gem of the amulet and another touching the red flesh of the moss. Time passed in silence. The gem began to glow. Chapter 42 : Listening James let himself enjoy the simple life of a puddle of tar for a while. The good news was that he hadn''t fainted after infusing the phone, which he had quickly tested and confirmed to be functional afterward. The bad news was that he was now sporting a massive headache - or more accurately, a body ache, since his head was technically only fashioned to look humanoid since his mind and consciousness was spread throughout his entire body. Letting himself go and no longer focusing on keeping a specific shape weakened the pain, hence why he was currently spread on the ground of his room. Using magic enhanced the pain, so he sadly couldn''t practice, but he could meditate and watch over things via his connections to infused items - he probably should come up with a name for those, now that he thought about it. He checked in on Goliath and Sam as they watched Captain Cyan- "Captain! Indigo Wendigo is attacking the rangers'' office in Color Canyon Park"!" "Quick, Green Girl, Blue Boy, to the Cyan Copter!" "I don''t get it. Why use a helicopter if he can fly?" "The other two can''t. Now hush, it''s going to be one of the best parts." "Everything is one of the best parts to you." -on Blanche and Foudre as they trained their rudimentary and self-taught martial art skills- "I''m curious, have you ever considered a relooking?" "Focus on the task at paw. Why do you even ask? It''s not like we wear clothes or make-up." "Well, we could. I''m considering asking papa for a monthly allowance for personal expenses, that way we won''t have to look like sewer rats anymore." "Blanche, we are sewer rats." "Wrong. We are rats who were born in the sewers, big difference. A sewer rat wouldn''t have a snout this fine, you know? And look at these ears!" "Yeah, yeah. Why are you so obsessed with being pretty, anyway? I can understand not wanting to be dirty, but the rest?" "Why is David such an idiot, why is Goliath such a sweetheart, why is Lucille so serious all the time... It''s part of who I am, there''s no particular reason." "If you say so." -even on David and Lucille, as they were hunting near one of the infused stones he had left around to sense if any threat was nearby- "I don''t understand why he wants to keep that Techlord around." "Oh, miss perfect is angry at the old man?" "Not angry, just... confused." "Look, I don''t like the guy either, especially after he made Goliath cry, but you gotta see it from the old man''s point of view." "Which is?" "We both know he''s not from here. Hell, he''s the one who brings up he''s from another world from time to time. Just like he told us he used to be human, once. Remember, when he showed us this shadow thingy to represent the whole ''surface-sewers'' stuff?" "Yes, I do." "He used to be human. It ain''t weird he got tired of only hanging out with rats." "You think-" "Oh, I''m sure he means it with the whole good guy speech, ''he needs help, I can help him'' or whatever, but he''s mostly doing it to have someone like him around." "You think he isn''t satisfied with us?" "Look, Lucille. We''re not even the same species. We''re just his little pity project that grew out of hands. He didn''t even want to be our father, remember?" "That doesn''t mean anything. He adopted us, you ungrateful brat." "Hey, I''m just giving my opinion here." "..." "Meh, you can be as mad as you want, it ain''t gonna change what I think." "You''re right. It won''t. Now let''s get back on track, I''m going to go catch a spider, you bring back some fish." "Wait, fish? But those things are huge! I don''t even know how to swim! Lucille! Come back!" -and Soluble- "So... What did you learn?" "Not much. Nothing about the silhouette, but apparently Larry and Barry survived an attack by a horde of Patchees." "Wait, what? Patchees? A horde of them? HOW?" "Shut up, you idiot. But he''s right, a horde? How?" The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. "Apparently some of the Patcher''s pets escaped. They rampaged around a bit and for some reason began to chase after the two idiots." "And they survived?" "Some kind of mech appeared and beat the Patchees to a pulp." "A mech? Is their bosssss more of a big shot than we thought?" "Dunno, but what I do know is that Sunburn was sent to catch the Patchees back." "Wait, Sunburn? Why not another one of the Angels'' goons? Why send their ace?" "Do I look like an Angel, Jeffrey? I''m not in their head." "I''d say it makes sssenssse. Sunburn is probably the only one who can scare those thingsss into sssubmission. You know, with the fire." "If you say so, Mark. Anyway, the big man arrived just as the mech finished getting rid of the corpses, and it didn''t take long for there to be nothing left but ashes of the big pile of junk." "So their boss is at war with the angels?" "Maybe. But he probably lost a lot of resources with that mech, so we have an opening." "What''s the plan?" "Finish assembling the team, go wreak some havoc down below, overwhelm the silhouette, and get rid of it before it can get any more influence." "I ain''t convinced, Soluble. Seems like a very risky plan to get rid of a guy who hasn''t done anything yet." "If you won''t follow me, I can''t risk you leaking the plan to the enemy Jeffrey. We clear?" "... Yeah." "Good." -before he got called out of his trance a few hours after it began by a member of Mischief scratching at his room''s doorway, unwilling to enter James'' personal space. "Squeak?" "Ah, yes, give me a moment..." James reformed his body, going from being a puddle of tar to his usual dark humanoid figure as he approached the large black rat with purple highlights in its fur. "Do you have something to report?" "Pack... Saw... Two... Men..." "Larry and Barry?" "Yes..." "Good, thank you for warning me. Oh, thank you for not entering the room too." "Master... Calls... We... Answer..." "Yes, yes. You''re free to go now, I''ll take care of it. Wait, on second thought, ask Polisson to come here." The rat just squeaked once more before rushing off to Mischief''s lair. James had installed it a little farther away from his, just to be sure anyone looking for them wouldn''t also find James and the ratlings. Guess those new weapons came at the right time... James quickly slithered through the lair, getting back the two electroguns from the storage area before heading to the entertainment room to fetch his latest employee who was currently still watching Captain Cyan with Goliath. "Wait, you''re telling me Revenant is a technological expert but also a ghost? How?" "Me and David think he used to be a brilliant inventor before he died, Foudre and Blanche think he picked up the skills after he died, and Lucille thinks he''s not actually a ghost but uses a gadget to act like one." "Huh, a dematerialization field of some kind? Or a phaser? It''d make sense..." "I''m sorry to interrupt, but Techlord, the two other employees I mentioned earlier are arriving. Go wait for us in the war room. Meeting room? We should probably establish a proper name for it later on. In any case, you should meet them, if only to give them some precise orders for those new tools. Goliath, go fetch the others. Same thing, war room." "Alright." "I''m on it!" James barely spared them a glance before he rushed to the tunnels, turning into his Skitter form on the way to become even faster by running with its long stilt-like limbs.
"Sooo... Do we tell him?" "I... I don''t know, Larry." The ever-energetic duo of Barry and Larry walked in the sewer tunnels, Barry illuminating the way forward with his flashlight. The squishing of organic matter under their boots and the flowing of the dirty water were the only sounds that filled the tunnels aside from their voice, and both of the men could already use a shower. Larry''s long greasy hair and goatee were in no better condition than Barry''s muttonchops, and all of their brown and beige clothing was even more damaged than it was when they first met with their new boss. Frankly, the only things that hadn''t worsened about their looks were Larry''s red bandana with white flowers and Barry''s aviator goggles. "I don''t know what he would do if he learned about it. Give us some equipment to be better prepared? Replace us?" "I don''t think the boss would replace us, Barry. He''s a nice guy." "If you say so..." In a blink of an eye the tall lanky man and the short burly one had reached their destination, the usual meeting point between them and their boss, an unassuming tunnel among countless others whose sole remarkable feature was a massive hole leading to another tunnel, the one a monster had made when their boss first appeared. The place where they had met for the first time. "Well, guess we only have to wait." "How long do you think it will take, Barry?" "How would I know, Larry?" "Not any longer." They both turned around as the third voice echoed in the tunnel, discovering their boss standing calmly behind them. "Boss! Nice to see you!" "It is nice to see you too, Larry." "Boss. We brought what you asked last time, it''s all in this." Barry pointed to the large backpack he was wearing with his thumb, expecting his boss to just open it and take everything inside before giving a few more orders as well as their pay like he had done the last couple of times they had met since the Soluble incident. He didn''t. "Marvellous. Barry, Larry, I think it''s time you learned about our base." Larry''s eyes shined like never before, whereas Barry was a bit off-put by his boss'' words. "Sorry, ''our''?" "You are my employees, are you not?" "Uh... Yes sir..." "Good. Then it is also your base. You are free to come as you please. But for now, let''s hurry. I have to introduce you to the rest of the staff." James slipped between the two men and began to make his way back to the lair. "The rest of the what now." "Barry! We have colleagues! We can throw them surprise birthday parties!" "That''s... That''s a terrible idea, Larry." "Come on you two, hurry up. We don''t have all day." "Yes sir!" "Yes, boss!" The two hurried after him as he picked up the pace, taking care to still be slow enough to be easy to follow but fast enough to force them to run somewhat.
"Good, here we are." James slowed down as he arrived at the entrance to the lair. He had been forced to widen it a few days ago after he had saved Sam so that the boy would fit, going from its old mouse hole size to a proper doorway. He had still taken the time to make a fake wall to cover it up with thin slices of bricks, abusing his ability to fuse and defuse infused items to create it with broken pieces of stone he had left from some of his early digging sessions - though he had still left a large, fake broken-in hole at the bottom, for the ratlings and Mischief''s use. Larry and Barry arrived just after him, sweating a little but nothing beyond that. James remarked on that as he slithered a flat tentacle on the wall first, separating the thin part from the normal wall, then in the gap between the two to lift the fake wall out of the way. "I must say, I''m impressed. I expected you two to be panting and gasping for breath right about now." "Well, not to gloat or anything, but we''re some of the fastest Coreless around." "Running for your life daily is a great cardio exercise!" "Yeah, that too." "How... Awe-inspiring." James lifted the fake wall and stepped to the side, inviting the duo in. "Uh... Us first?" "Unless I am mistaken and you have the strength and dexterity to perfectly reinstall a brick wall, yes." "Eh, fair. Come on Larry, let''s meet our doom." "Don''t you mean colleagues?" "Sure, sure." Soon enough the tunnel was back to normal. A regular tunnel, aside from the fact all of its bricks were darker than those in the rest of the sewers and that there was a hole in one of the walls. Chapter 43: The first reunion Larry and Barry looked nervously all around them as they entered their boss'' lair. The light of their flashlight showed them nothing but walls of uniform black bricks. Not a sound was heard, only their steps on the similarly constructed ground. "It''s, uh... Unique, sir..." "I think installing a couple of lights might be a good idea? It''s pretty hard to see in there." "Don''t complain, Larry. Maybe the boss'' allergic to light or something." "Oh, right, sorry sir!" They both heard a chuckle and, nervous as they were, instantly turned around, thankful to see it was only their boss who was catching up with them after closing the entrance behind them. Scratch that, closing the entrance behind them? "No need to worry. It is planned, in fact, it will be on your next list." "Oh, great sir! Heard that Barry?" "Yeah, uh... Just to be sure, boss, we can open that door, right?" "Oh, no, I''m sorry. I have yet to install a system for the door to be opened without me being present. Safety before practicality, after all. Especially considering the kind of creatures that roam these tunnels..." Barry gulped at that. "Yeah, right..." Before he had any chance to ponder any further their boss passed between them, turning into a shadow on the ground to bypass their bodies. In a blink of an eye, he was back to being a solid figure, advancing further and guiding them into the depths of the place. "Come along, now. We do not have all the time in the world." "Right away, sir!" "Yes, boss!" Soon the shadowy figure of their leader was rapidly slithering - or was it gliding? It was hard to define without feet - forcing the duo to do a light footing to keep track of him. It didn''t last long, for soon they were in a hall with multiple doorless doorways all around them. Their boss didn''t stop, immediately entering the room right in front of them, a room inside of which Barry and Larry could discern another light. "Guess this it, then." "Are you excited to meet the others, Barry?" "Yeah, let''s say that." The pair entered the room, and they had the chance to take a good look at their "colleagues", a group of small rats, four with varying sizes and shades of grey with a fifth albino one, another rat, this one much larger, black, around the size of the cat, with a claw of dark energy, and finally... "Is that a mummy?" Larry''s question might have sounded dumb any other day, but this once Barry had to agree. A humanoid figure covered with dirty white bandages, tainted red in multiple places, and lit up by what had to be a cursed dark flame in some kind of lantern? Considering the aesthetic of the place, a mummy wouldn''t be out of the question. The rats were standing on their hind legs on a different seat positioned around some kind of hollow round table, as for the mummy it was simply sitting on one of the seats. "I''m not a mummy you idiots, I''m... Wait, aren''t you two..." Their boss interrupted, turning into some sort of shadowy cloud to flow over the table and form back his body in the middle of the hole at the center. "Everyone, allow me to introduce Barry and Larry. Larry, Barry, allow me to introduce the ratlings, Lucille, Foudre, Goliath, Blanche, and David, the leader of the Mischief group Polisson, and our latest addition, our new official inventor and tinkerer, Techlord. You may call me Silhouette. Please, take a seat." Barry immediately tried to pull back a seat to sit on it but was surprised by the weight of it. It felt like he was pulling a slab of stone. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably the case. He put a bit more force into it before taking a seat, anxiously looking at the collection of oddities around him. Larry, meanwhile, was too preoccupied to sit. "Techlord? You''re that Vigilante! Thank you for last time, by the way." "Wait, the mummy''s that kid?" "I''m not a mummy! But what are you two doing there?" Larry smiled as he casually took a seat next to Barry, only almost falling over when he was surprised by the weight of it. "Well, remember our boss? That''s him!" "You two were working for this guy this entire time?" Their boss - Silhouette, he had called himself - faked a cough to get their attention. "I see you three are acquainted. I''m curious, though, what did you mean when you thanked Techlord for ''last time'', Larry?" "Oh, well, it''s a funny story really, we-" "We first met the kid when he had the bright idea to fight some guys from Wicked Witchcraft. Larry interfered, they spared us, and on the way, we were ambushed by Soluble - you know, the acidic slime thing - before we were saved by another Vigilante. We left the kid and went on our way. Later on, Soluble and their goons followed us here, and that''s when you beat some sense into them." Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Is that all? Then why was Larry the one thanking Techlord, and not the opposite?" "We... We may have been running away from a horde of Patchees a couple of days ago, and he may have fought against it to save us." "I see. So, these two were the ones you saved before your mech was destroyed, Techlord?" "Yeah, that''s pretty much the story." "Wait, the mech was destroyed? But you were doing so well!" "Thing is, Larry, it''s not the... You call those things Patchees?" "Made by the Patcher, so yes." "Well, it ain''t the Patchees that broke my mech." "Who?" "Sunburn." Both members of the pair were startled by that, Barry even more so. "Wait, THE Sunburn? HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?" "Your... Well, now I guess it''s our, Boss, saved me. Then he offered me the job. And now here I am. Tada." "Boss, does that mean the Angels want us dead? Because I''ll be honest, despite everything you''re an okay guy and you pay us a lot, but if the Angels and Sunburn want you gone I''m out." "Barry!" "Larry, we''re just some guys. I''m not dealing with the Angels, and neither are you." "I understand your fears, Barry. I assure you, the Blood Angels are not our enemies. If I''m correct, they think Techlord is dead and aren''t aware that the rest of us exists." "... Good..." "But your story and worries do remind me of something..." Barry didn''t like where this was going. "You are correct, Barry, you are merely humans. In this world of Cored and monsters, especially around these parts, you are defenseless. At the mercy of the first maniac with some powers that decides you looked at them wrong." "And...?" "This cannot be allowed to continue any longer." Barry REALLY didn''t like where this was going. "How so, sir?" "I have... Two solutions to the problem. Both should be effective, though I do prefer one over the other. Technically speaking, we could even do both." "And what are these solutions, sir?" "Techlord here had the time and resources to craft us two weapons. One that he will keep, and the other I wish to gift you." "What kind of weapon?" "Electroguns, though these have been... Let''s say ''enhanced'' by the boss. Pretty simple stuff, you use it like a gun but instead of bullets it fires bolts of energy." "Thank you, Techlord. Based on his explanations I assume this type of weapon is rather known?" "Oh, yes! Barry always said that it would be more impressive than a gun, but it''s hard to recharge them." "Hopefully, my modifications should solve this problem. I have another device that has been improved through the same method and it has never run out of energy so far." Techlord perked up at that. "The phone? That thing has infinite energy?" "It isn''t the subject, Techlord. Now then, I also mentioned another solution, though this one will be more... In-depth." "What kind of solution?" "Barry, Larry, take a good look at Polisson." Both of the men turned their heads to stare at the large black rat sitting on the seat, calmly observing them in turn. "You see, Polisson wasn''t always this way. He was born and raised in a lab but escaped with only an increased intellect and some knowledge. His physical transformation is a more recent development. One I instigated." "Boss... Are you saying... What I think you are?" James calmly nodded at Barry. "I can not only improve materials and items but also living things. It is easier if they are willing, of course. I call this process infusion." Barry noted how their boss hadn''t explicitly confirmed his worries. He had not used the word "transformation", but Barry didn''t need to have gone to some fancy school to know what his words meant. He and Larry had been raised in the slums, after all. Throughout their childhoods, they had heard the horror stories and terrifying tales of things forever changed by the Transformation Aspect. People turned into mindless monsters. Things that would make the Patcher''s victims thankful. Cities lost in a blink of an eye. An entire continent lost to the spreading blight. Could they really work for someone who could do this kind of thing? "Boss... Are you..." "I am offering you the opportunity to go through the same procedure, yes. I do not know the effects it may have on a human, Polisson only reported a sense of unwavering loyalty, aside from that his mind supposedly stayed the same. Of course, the choice is yours." What could Barry say to this? He couldn''t just say no, there was no way he would let them walk away like that after learning he had such a rare and dangerous Aspect. Deep down, he couldn''t deny he wasn''t tempted by his offer either. A chance to finally be more than a simple Coreless... "Sorry sir, Barry and I can''t accept." "La-Larry?" "It''s very nice to ask us, but we ain''t cut out for this. We''re the little guys who do their thing, we''re not meant to be as great as you." "I see. Know that the offer still stands, if you ever change your mind. Though I will admit, I am thankful you refused." "Really sir?" "If anything had gone wrong or something unwelcomed had happened to you during the change, I would have felt responsible" "Aw, thank you, sir!" "Yeah... Thank you..." "Now then..." Barry could already guess his next words, "This is the point where I kill you, thank you for everything you''ve done so far.", he knew it. He felt it deep within his bones. Something began to come out of Silhouette''s chest. Barry distinctly remembered how he had suddenly pulled out a gun and fired at Soluble, putting the acidic slime humanoid out of commission with ease, sending them into an agonizing screaming session before their mind was overloaded with pain and just fizzled out. Was this how they would die too? "Catch." Silhouette threw something at him, Barry catching it with surprising ease. Oh, was this a trap? Some kind of grenade? "Your new weapon, the electrogun." "If I may sir, I decided to nickname this one the Black Bolter." "And the black one?" "The Dark Bolter." "It''s idiotic, Techlord." "What? No, it''s not!" "Names are supposed to help differentiate the two. It would make more sense to call the black one the Black Bolter and the regular one the Shadow Bolter." "I made them, I''m choosing the names!" "You can''t just-" Barry cut the argument out of his mind. He was far too busy staring at the item in his hands. A weapon. A powerful one. One that, according to his boss, wouldn''t have the recharging problem most models shared. Something supposedly improved through the same method as the one used in the gun that almost killed soluble. "-what I''m saying, Techlord, is that you are horrible with names." "Uh, boss?" "Yes, Barry?" "Thank you." The shadowy figure chuckled. "You''re welcome. Now then, I have another important piece of news to share. Larry, Barry, your acquaintance Soluble is apparently forming a team to raid the sewers and kill me." All of the individuals seated around the table looked at James for a few silent seconds before they all exploded at once. "WAIT WHAT-" "Fa- Silhouette, you can''t just-" "Don''t tell me you''re in danger-" "Not our phone-" "Oh great, Sunburn, and now this-" "Master, we are ready to die for-" "Oh yes tell me I get to kill stuff-" "EVERYONE. QUIET." The agitated people surrounding James all quieted down at once, though they clearly all were still on edge, legs, and paws shaking and eyes fleeing. "I have a plan. A plan that will rely on each and every one of you. We will successfully repel this attack, and no one will dare go after us again." David raised his paw. "Yes, David?" "Before you start explaining your plan, will we be allowed to kill?" "If they use lethal force, you may use it in turn." "YES!" Techlord barely spared a glance at the murderous little rodent before he focused on his savior and employer. "How long until they attack?" "A few days, if I''m correct. I will closely spy on them to keep you updated." "How do you spy on them?" "Infused items have a connection to me. If it is strong enough, I can sense things through them. In this case, I can listen to Soluble''s ramblings." "What does Soluble have that''s infused?" "Their bones." Somehow, Barry felt his bones getting itchy. "What''s the plan?" "This place has always been a living place first and foremost. A metaphorical safe space. It''s time to make it a literal one." Chapter 44 : Step into the darkness Soluble, the humanoid mutant made of acidic grey slime within whom floated black bones, looked left and right as they descended the manhole''s shaft, releasing their grip on the old rusty ladder as their leather boot-covered feet hit the ground. "Anything down there?" They took a few steps forward, carefully listening and watching out for any potential threats. Even without taking into account the thing they had come to kill, the sewers were a dangerous place. This area of the slums may have been far away from its legendary heart, but monsters still found their way here. Rumors said the Marked herself sometimes roamed these tunnels. "Nothing. You all can come down." It had taken some time to find enough people to make a realistic raiding party, but their acquaintance Guy had succeeded. The old man was friendly enough, but his true strength was his bargaining. He knew when not to push too far, as well as when he could get more. He was weak enough not to be seen as a threat but resourceful enough that even some of the big guys occasionally relied on him - and he had used these skills for them. So that they could track down the silhouette. The others didn''t understand, at first, and the few who did wanted nothing to do with it. Soluble may not have been famous but everyone knew how hard slimes were to deal with, so something that could take them down in a single hit? Coreless didn''t even want to interact with slimes, let alone a slime-killer. Thankfully after some passionate retellings of their encounter and some promises from Guy, a dozen of thugs, at least half of which were Cored, agreed to join them in this hunt. It had stayed down there so far, but how long would it last? A stealthy shapeshifter was too much of a threat to ignore. Jeffrey and Mark quickly joined them in the tunnel, the small ratkin and the large lizardman ever loyal, ever obedient. There was nothing they could do without Soluble, and they all knew it. "Ssstill sure about thisss, Sssoluble?" "More than ever. Look around you. This place would make for a great contraband trade route, and instead it''s left to rot. If that thing''s dead, we could be the first to use the place." "Sssoluble, even before that thing appeared no one wanted anything to do with the sssewers. The only use thisss place has is..." "The Sunken City!" "Shut up Jeffrey. And you too Mark. You will do as I say and nothing more. We''re going to kill that thing and then take over this place, are we clear?" The two animalistic mutants shared a look, a pained and worried expression on their bestial faces. "I said, ARE WE CLEAR?" "Yesss, Sssoluble." "Yes, Soluble." "Good." "Everything alright, Soluble?" "Yes, Grover." The tall man covered in orange crackling clay armor was a strange sight in these parts, but apparently, his employer had taken Guy''s advice and sent one of their best elements. If they had to be honest with themselves, Soluble had to admit Grover was more of an expedition leader than they were, but the man still had respected their authority, probably because Guy had always talked about them as the one who had begun the whole raid thing. "Where to, now?" "This way. We followed two guys who work for it and it attacked us around there." "I see. We''ll need to spread out then." "Yeah, but stay on guard. It''s tricky and stealthy." "Yes. No one on their own, only groups." As the last few men finished going down the ladder, they all checked their equipment one last time. Everyone''s flashlights, whether they held them in their hands, stuck them to their chest, or had attached them to some sort of helmet, were in perfect condition. Every weapon was properly loaded, everyone carried a small pack with a first aid kit, a small ration, and a weak cure-all antidote, in case anything happened. The few walkie-talkies they had managed to bring with them still worked, though with some difficulties. "Soluble, here''s a radio. I''ll be taking one. I gave the other two to some of the Cored guys. That''s fine with you?" "Yeah, thank you, Grover." "No problem. We should already make the teams. I propose you and your guys, me and half the Coreless, and the Cored and the rest of the Coreless spread between the two radio guys. Do you approve?" "Yeah, sounds good. But do you mind if I take a couple of Coreless? Some extra pairs of eyes will be helpful." "Of course. You are the one in charge here." "Yeah. I''m the one in charge." Mark and Jeffrey shared another look but Soluble paid them no mind. They approached the Coreless group, studied them for some time, and picked the two that had brought rifles and bulletproof vests. Coreless might be weak but might as well pick the best of the flock. "You two, you''re with me." "Roger that." Grover raised their hand, catching everyone''s attention with their large frame and bright orange equipment. "Everyone ready?" "Yes sir!" "Good. We''re looking for some kind of humanoid shadow, capable of at least some light shapeshifting and intelligent enough to use weapons. There are two Coreless that work for it, so it must have a base of some sort. We''ll be looking for it and, once it''s located, we''ll all converge to wipe it out. Do not engage alone. If you see it, report it to your team''s radio bearer. If they can''t use the radio, do it yourself. If you can''t find them, converge with the rest of your available team and come back here. Soluble will be our leader during this operation. Soluble, do you have any more instructions or recommendations?" If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Soluble took a second to think of what to say. "That thing is dangerous but from our experience with it, it prefers a non-lethal approach. Make use of it. Fake unconsciousness. Don''t hesitate if it threatens another one of you. If it had the guts to kill, my guys and I wouldn''t be here. But don''t underestimate it. It has a weird weapon that can knock down a Cored with no problem, so don''t let it catch you off-guard." "Thank you, Soluble. You lot, you are teamed with this shark guy. And you, you go with with the orc. The rest of you, if Soluble hasn''t asked you to accompany them, you''re with me. Let''s go." They all marched on, stepping into the darkness.
The group arrived in yet another tunnel, but this one was slightly different from all of the others they had been in thus far. An outsider wouldn''t know of course, but... "This is it. This is the tunnel where we found it." "You sure?" "Yes." "Very well. We''re splitting into four guys, remember your teams. Where do you wish to go Soluble?" "I''m going straight." "Very well. Soluble will go North, the orc West, the shark East, and I''ll stay here and perform some perimeters check with my guys. Any objections?" "Aren''t I the boss here, Grover?" "Of course you are, Soluble. Do you want to reassign the explorations?" "Yeah, yeah that''s what I want." "You heard them. Orc team, North, Shark team, East, and you West. Are you fine with that?" "Yes. That''s better." The group split in four just as announced and each team went their way, their eyes filled with determination. Aside, perhaps, from a ratkin and a lizardman, both nervous and uneased.
"Grover here. Orc team, status report. Over." "Nothing located here. Over." "Soluble here. I haven''t found anything yet. Over." "Shark team here, nothing either. Ove- wait, scratch that. I think we found something." "What did you find, Shark? Over." "Name''s Brutus, by the way. But yeah, one of the guys just found a weird tunnel." "Elaborate. Over." "There''s this big section of the wall that''s just... Black." "Can you be any more specific? Over." "Like, every brick is pure black instead of that weird greenish-grey. They even look in better shape than the rest, somehow." "Very well, Brutus. Try to investigate it, but stay cautious. Orc, Soluble, how far are you? Over." "Orc here - Skuller, just in case. Not far, we tried to take it slow." "Soluble? Over." "We''re already on our way back." "Very well. Brutus, you and your team try to investigate that wall, but if something happens move back. Skuller, join them as soon as you can. Soluble and I will join you as soon as they arrive. Over." "Roger that." "We''re on our way." Brutus looked at his men as they examined the black wall. He may have a brute, but he knew better than to go anywhere near a suspicious thing. That''s how traps got you. The muscled shark man scratched his chin as he watched over the regular humans that were trying to find something on the wall. He knew there were a couple Cored among them but those were subtle ones. Regeneration, increased strength, better reflexes... Not that any of them could do a thing against him, at least not without a weapon, but it was nice to have around. A single grasshopper might be nothing, but a locust swarm was a plague after all. "Brutus! I think I found something!" The biker shark man approached the thug that had called out to him. He stood near the center of the black wall, his hand on the bricks. "See this spot? I hit it a bit and it sounded hollow. So, I hit a whole lot more." "And?" "Stil sounds hollow." "Awesome." Brutus knocked on the wall, just to be sure the other guy was right and wasn''t messing with him. He wasn''t, thankfully for him. Shark bites are hard to heal. "Okay. Guys, step back. I''m going to try something." "What?" "I''m going to punch a hole into the wall." "You can do that?" "I can punch through a guy and a door at the same time, some bricks should be fine." Brutus took a step back and warmed up his shoulder before leaping onto the wall and launching his fist into it, strengthened by the momentum. Something broke, but it wasn''t the wall. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "That''s a very deep voice." "Think he''s gonna be fine?" "Meh, he''s mutant, he''ll manage." "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "Still going, eh?" "I mean, it''s a brick wall." "Ya know, I don''t think I''ve ever seen this kind of stone. Except maybe the Black Bank." "Wait, you think..." "I''m just saying, I only see second-rate guys here - no offense, everyone." "None taken." "Yeah, we''re the losers." "So yeah, team B, no big player aside from maybe Grover? Dunno who he works for but the guy has some training. Wouldn''t be surprised if this was some shmuck attempt at robbing a Black property that isn''t supposed to exist." "So, uh, should we run?" "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "I mean, at this point, orc guy and the others are coming. If we try to run away it''ll look weird." "So, what?" "I''d suggest we stick to the plan for now, but if things go south and they ask us to surrender, we do." "Uh, it might work." "Nah, it''s Black we''re talking about. I''m pretty sure they wouldn''t even let our souls leave." "So, ditch now, ditch later?" "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "Man does he have big lungs." "Shouldn''t he have gills instead?" "Maybe he''s more of a fanged newt with a shark look than an actual shark?" "Meh, who knows." "You think we should bring out the medkit?" "I don''t think a couple of bandages and a little medical alcohol will help with a broken hand. Fingers? Arm? Could someone go check?" "And go anywhere near that mouth? Nah dude, not before he calms down. "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "Uh, guys, is it just me, or did the wall open?" They all looked at the spot where their glorious leader had punched the wall. There had been nothing there a few seconds ago, and yet now they were facing an open doorway, large enough for a regular human. Brutus probably wouldn''t fit inside. "So, do we go in?" "Dude, horror flicks. You don''t go in the creepy passage that opened by itself." "Well sorry not everyone here was born in the main city, buddy." "Me neither, we just had an old tv and a couple of tapes." "Oh, sorry." "But, we kinda are getting paid to go in, aren''t we?" "I hate that you''re right." "So, we all go in, weapons ready, if they want to talk we listen?" "I''m up for that." "Yeah, never was one of those ''shoot everything in sight'' guys. Guess it''s why no one wanted to take me in." "It''s okay buddy, we''re all failures here." "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "See?" "Yeah, thanks, guys." "Oh well, here we go." "And the radio?" "Wanna go near the crazy shark?" "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "Yeah, no. Too bad." "Oh, should we give ourselves a cool team name before we go in?" "Sure. Any ideas?" "Silhouette Busters." "Hate it." "Monster trackers?" "No." "The Brotherhood of Losers?" "Dude, not cool." "And I''m a gal, boyo." "Yeah, that too." "What about... Shadow Commando?" "It''s the least horrible of the bunch yet." "We probably won''t find anything better or even use it, so better go in before the orc catches up." "And what about him?" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" "Meh, he can handle himself. He''s a big boy. Shark. Sharkboy." "Never utter those words again." "Alright team, in we go. Shadow Commando, step into the darkness." All as one, they went in. Or at least they tried to before they realized only one of them could fit the width of the hallway behind the doorframe, maybe two if they were thin. Realizing their mistake, they assigned a random order for them to go in, in line. And they stepped into the darkness. Behind them, as Brutus was still screaming without interruption, the wall closed back. Chapter 45 : And let it claim you The half a dozen thugs that had accompanied Brutus the muscled shark man biker looked all around them as they entered the strange structure. Walls of nothing but perfectly cut bricks of black marble, a pitch-black ceiling, and just as perfectly cut tiles on the floor... Not a sound escaped from the confines of the place, and yet there was an eerie echo in the air, an overwhelming silence so strong they could somehow hear it. Not only that, but all felt like they were being observed. "So, uh... The door closed behind us, right?" "Yep. First thing I checked." "So we''re trapped." "Yep." "They''re going to let us die to test out the defenses and tire out whatever that shadow thing is." "Oh definitely." "Don''t forget, it also means they won''t have to pay us!" "Ah yes, that too." "Why did we enter again?" "Because we wanted to surrender." "Ah, right." "And we didn''t want to deal with the crazy shark guy currently screaming out there." They all took a second to listen, already used to the act after the past few minutes. Except they hear nothing. "Kinda... Weird, not hearing it." "I mean, yeah, but that''s kinda obvious given the place? I feel like the walls could start moving and I wouldn''t be surprised." "Oh, like a rearranging maze?" "I think he meant like, undulating in waves." "She, buddy. And what I meant was more stuff like living drawings or runes, but your idea isn''t bad too." "Sorry, ma''am. So... Do we go deeper?" "I mean, not like we have a ton of other options." "We could stay here." "And get blown up when they start using explosives to get in? No way in hell, buddy." They all looked at each other and shrugged before continuing their march, step after step sending them deeper into the structure as the only source of light in the hallway was the flashlights they had brought, not illuminating much, yet all they could see was always the same. Black marble. As they finally reached the end of the hallway they saw a change in scenery. They entered a large room, something they all would have assumed to be a hall were it not for the fact that there was no door. Well, except the one they had entered from, of course. "The door closed behind us again, didn''t it." "Yep." "Welp. Guess we''re gonna die." A voice echoed in the chamber, pulling them out of their self-loathing. It was a man''s voice, smooth yet deep, gentle yet with a faint sharp edge. "Greetings, dear intruders." The thugs looked all around the room, searching for the voice''s provenance before quickly giving up when they saw nothing outstanding in the hall. "He''s polite. That''s nice." "Polite villains are always the worst, dud- I mean gal." "As you probably have noticed, I have cut off every way for you to escape. You are stuck in this room until I deem it unnecessary." "And what do you plan to do?" "It all depends on what you wish to do, dear intruders." "How so?" "You enter my home bearing arms and ill-intent. You come here in search of violence and riches, uninvited, unwanted. But now that you are here, you have a chance to abandon all that. A chance to be redeemable." "Aren''t you the one who let us in?" "Yes, because you seem like a reasonable group." "Uh? Us? Reasonable?" "Yeah, I''m with her on that one. "I know everything about your little operation. About Soluble''s delusions. And I know all of you wish to surrender because you realize the futility of it all. That you are merely putting yourself in danger for the sake of another who wouldn''t reciprocate. So, here is my offer. Very shortly a door will open to your right. Enter the room it leads to while leaving all of your weapons here and I assure you no harm will be done. I might even have another offer for you once this little farce had ended." "So... No weapons and we''re good to go? What about Cored?" "You cannot alter your body now, can you? I do not have the means to restrain a Cored''s abilities, at least not on hand, so I will assume you surrender with goodwill. If you decide to cause a ruckus, I can always take you out myself after all. Are we clear?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Crystal." "Good. Any other questions?" "Are there snacks?" "..." "..." "..." "You have rations if I''m not mistaken. You can eat those." The voice went silent and the thugs shared another look as, true to the voice''s words, another doorway opened before their eyes, leading this time to a very long stairway. "Seriously dude, snacks?" "I''m hungry!" "You''re stupid, too." "So... Who''s in?" "Me. I don''t even know how to use a gun." "Guy. It''s the easiest thing in the world, just point and shoot." "What about recoil? Aiming? Don''t disrespect guns like that, dude. I trained hard to use them." "Sorry, guns just aren''t my thing. Or, well, it''s more that I can just do literal finger guns." "Woo, seriously? That''s rad." "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I''m dropping my stuff too for obvious reasons." "I''m in. I mean, what''s the point of weapons if there''s nothing to use them on?" "Very true. I''m following." "Do you think a knife counts? It was my father''s and-" "Dude, I saw you looting it off of a corpse on the way." "Yeah, they stole it from my dad." "Uhu. Sure. Still, drop it. Better not take any risk." "Am I the only one feeling kind of dirty? Like, I know we weren''t paid much, but we still betrayed the rest really fast." "Hey, better us than them, right?" "Yeah." "Yep." "Yup." "When you put it like that..." Quickly a little pile of discarded guns, knives, ammo, and even a couple of grenades formed on the floor. Shortly after the group passed the new doorway and began to descend the stairway, not even bothering to check behind them if the door closed once they passed - which it did, as usual, thanks to some little black tentacles, black tentacles which quickly gathered the pile of discarded weapons and brought it to another room, opening and closing another secret door on the way.
Back in the tunnels Brutus finally calmed down, his broken hand still hurting but in a more bearable way. Or maybe he had simply gotten used to the pain, it was hard to know. It had been years since the last time he had been hurt this badly, cuts happened from time to time and were the reason behind the scars covering his hide, creating spots without scales, but those were a sharp pain. A localized thing that hurt when it happened but afterward calmed down. Broken bones? Those hurt like hell. "Aaah... Ah... Ah... I-I''m fine, guys... I''m good... Guys?" The shark man took a glance around the tunnel and realized he was all alone. He quickly picked up his walkie-talkie. "Guys, Brutus here. I have a problem." "Grover here. what kind of problem? Over." "I lost my team." "What? How did you lose a team, you buffoon!" "Calm down Soluble. Brutus, report everything now. Over." "My team. One of the guys saw that the wall was hollow at a spot and I tried to punch my way through but... I think I broke my hand..." "And your team, in all of this? Over." "They were next to me when I punched, but I just looked around and they aren''t here anymore." "How long has it been? Over." "I dunno, five minutes? Maybe more? Or less? I can''t tell." "You''re an idiot. A useless, incompetent idiot." "Don''t worry Soluble, my boys and I are arriving soon." "Good work, Skuller. Brutus, stay put and wait for Skuller. For future reference, this will be reflected on your pay. Over." "Yeah, yeah, I know, don''t bother- wait, change of plan." "What?" "The wall. There''s a door that just opened. It''s a tight fit, but if I crawl I can make it." "Stay where you are, Brutus. This is an order. Over." "I''m going in." "Brutus, obey my commands. Over." "Stay right where you are you overgrown sardine!" "I"m going and punching the life out of this stupid silhouette thingy, that way you won''t have to dock my pay." "Brutus, you-" "Wish me good luck!" Brutus turned off the radio before warming up his shoulder. It would be hard, but he was going in and teaching that thing not to mess with him. No one broke Brutus Sharpteeth''s bones and got away with it. Not with all of their limbs.
Somewhere else in the tunnels, Grover sighed as he realized Brutus had already disobeyed him. "Everyone, assume Brutus and his squad have been wiped out. If you see any of them, shoot them down. We are dealing with some sort of shapeshifter, we can''t afford to let it escape. Skuller, Soluble, and I are joining you as soon as they arrive. Over." "Got it. Don''t worry, I ain''t gonna be as dumb as shark boy." "You better not, Skuller. Over." Grover turned off the radio before addressing his subordinates. "Remember, if you see someone that''s not Soluble, their squad, or a part of this team, shoot them down." "Even Skuller?" "Yes. Remember, we are not here to make friends, we are here to take down a potential threat. Just look at what happened with Brutus, five minutes is a very short time to make an entire team vanish." "And if we see it fighting someone?" "Shoot them both. We don''t have the time to bother about decoys or tricks." "Yes sir." The tall man covered in a thick layer of clay somewhat shaped like a bronze age armor didn''t bother responding. These men would do their jobs, or die trying. Or just die, if any of them had the bright idea of deserting. Unseen to them, the orange clay that covered him hardened, especially in his back. Men who had just been ordered to take down prior allies were always the most agitated bunch. He just hoped the shark wouldn''t be completely useless.
"Hellooo? Anybody home?" Brutus advanced in the small hallway, having to bend and walk a little sideways to fit his large bulky body in the small cramped space. He hadn''t been very impressed by the decor so far, though the fact his shark eyes couldn''t discern colors since his birth may have played into it since he couldn''t appreciate the eeriness of being surrounded by completely black surfaces on every front. His constant shouting ruining the silent atmosphere didn''t help either. "Shadow thingy? Come here and fight like a man!" As Brutus almost reached the end of the hallway, a voice interrupted him. "Cease." "Who''s there?" "You may call me Silhouette. I-" "You''re the shadow thingy Soluble wants dead?" "Yes, but-" "Then come on out, you coward! No one breaks Brutus Sharpteeth''s hand!" "I am trying to converse with you-" "I ain''t here for talking, I''m here for fighting! So, where are ya-" "SILENCE." Before Brutus could react thick black tentacles emerged from every surface around him, coming straight out of the bricks as they began to twist around him and constrict his body, blocking his limbs, suspending him into the air, and grasping at his throat. "I will now talk and you will listen. You are here to hunt me down. You failed. Now, either you surrender and go wait in a corner until the rest of your little exploration has chosen either to submit or flee or you decide to follow the path of violence and try to take me down. You will not succeed. So. Do you surrender, or do I have to break you?" The muscled shark man biker didn''t even take a second to think, as soon as Silhouette was done speaking he lashed out and bit one of the tentacles restraining his arms, ripping it out of the wall and swallowing it as he freed his left hand - the unbroken one - and tried to rip the other tentacles off. They didn''t let go, instead strengthening the constriction, tightening their grasp, struggling against Brutus'' muscles as the two bodies fought for control and dominance. Shadows and scales slid off each other as Brutus gritted his teeth, his might was slowly starting to fade out and he even felt something coming back up his throat. Until the thing in his throat formed a shadowy blade that pierced through his brain, exiting from the top of his skull and killing him on the spot. As all of the strength in his body disappeared, nothing was left to counteract the tentacles'' constriction, and still carrying their momentum they crushed the shark man''s bones before they all retracted back into the walls and let the broken husk of the mutant thug fall onto the ground, blood slowly flowing from the wound on its head. A humanoid form slowly emerged from the wall, weakly shaking as it approached the lifeless body and put a tentacle on its chest in the vain hope it would feel something beating. There was only stillness. James took in a deep breath before catching himself. For now, he needed to hide the corpse and clean the blood. After that, he would have to deal with the rest of the raid. He would freak out about the fact he had killed someone later. Right now, he needed to be ready for more. Chapter 46 : Things that go boom in the dark When Skuller reached the tunnel Brutus was supposed to be in, the orc did find the black wall the shark man had mentioned but no traces of the rogue thug or the rest of his team. Skuller frowned as he looked carefully at the wall, they had lost a quarter of their force because they hadn''t been cautious, he wouldn''t be the next. The orc, standing head, and shoulders taller than his men took a second to count them. Still five, as many as he when the expedition team had split. Good, no one was missing. He quickly picked up his walkie-talkie. "Skuller here, we reached the spot. No Brutus in sight, but we see the black wall." "Grover here. Stay focused, don''t let yourselves be caught off-guard. Assume Brutus and his men have gone rogue. Over." "Don''t worry, I wasn''t planning on bringing sharky boy back home. Not in one piece." "Ah, you come from the Kt''aan tribe then? Over." "Nah, the Kok''to. We had a disagreement with the Kt''aan''s leadership a couple of centuries ago and left to do our own thing. With a nice trophy in tow." "I am glad to know we have such a capable man with us. The shark is yours to do as you please, take anything you need, but leave the silhouette''s corpse alone if you manage to take it down. We are still unaware of its powers, and we wouldn''t wish for it to come back from the dead just because you wanted a coathanger. Over." "Ah, yeah, don''t worry. The Kok''to learned their lesson after a kid somehow found a baby hydra. We make sure our trophies are safe before bringing them back." "Good. Get to it then. Over." "When should we expect reinforcements?" "Soon. Soluble had an unfortunate run-in with a mutant catfish, they''re fine but their arrival is slightly delayed. As soon as they arrive-" "You''ll come running. Got it. Wish me luck." "I thought the Kt''aan didn''t believe in luck? Over." "I told you, I''m a Kok''to. And we started believing when a runtling slave defeated an experienced chieftain in a duel to the death and left with her family and his head." "I see. Over." Skuller turned off the walkie before addressing his men. "We ain''t getting any reinforcement. We''re all we have." "But, didn''t Grover-" "Grover gave me the go-ahead to kill one of this expedition''s leaders, you think he wouldn''t do the same to the others? Nah, he wants us dead." "Why?" "We already failed. A full team could reasonably go against a single unknown Super, but Brutus ruined everything. Grover just wants us to tire out that beastie and then get rid of all of us to reap all the rewards." "Why?" "You saw him, right? We''re not his men, we''re his mercenaries. And he doesn''t mind letting us die if the operation is a success." "Shouldn''t we run away then?" "Nah, not worth it. Grover ain''t alone. He knows how to lead, but I''ve never heard about him before and yet he''s so good at it? He''s someone else''s guy, for sure. If we run, there''ll be people chasing. Maybe not today, but soon enough." "So what now?" "Now?" The orc grinned madly, his white tusks giving him an even more unhinged and dangerous look than his lean yet dense muscle and his height ever could." "We hunt."
"I see. Over." Grover shut off the radio as he put it back on his clay belt, Displeased by his interaction with Skuller. A voice quickly snapped him out of his thoughts, an androgynous and annoying sound that quickly got on his nerves, though he had enough experience not to show it. "Why did you lie?" Grover looked at the slimy humanoid to his left, apparently confused about his plan. Good. "I''m afraid Skuller is compromised." "What? How?" "The tone of his voice. If we go there now, he''ll betray us and kill us all, or at least try to." "Really? You sure?" "With all due respect, Soluble, I have been in enough team-ups to know when someone is trying to double-cross me." "You didn''t expect the shark." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "Brutus wasn''t a betrayal. Not a typical one. He''s just an idiot who decided to do the job alone after failing to manage his team. Skuller, on the other hand, is more composed. He''ll convince his team to join his little coup and kill those that disagree. Hence why we''re not joining him." "Why? Shouldn''t we go there before he tries to make friends with that thing?" "A reasonable conclusion, but you forgot two major details. One, Brutus already poked the hornet''s nest. That shadow creature is now aware that it is under attack, and will assume that any further arrivals are more opponents, not potential allies." "Okay, that makes sense, I guess. And the other thing?" A serene smile formed itself on Grover''s lips. "We are talking about an orc. Once they have a target, they fight till the bitter end. No matter the betrayals and deceptions, once an orc wants something dead, it will not stop." This was why he had specifically asked his employer for an orc. It took some work to convince Guy to contact one, but it was worth it. Even the weakest of the monstrous humanoids would pose a challenge to the average Cored human, and he had been lucky enough to find not only a Cored orc but one born and raised in a tribe. The wrong tribe, some of his information would need to be updated, but a tribe nonetheless. Urban orcs had lost a lot of the strengths of their more tribal brethren, sadly. They even had the audacity to start thinking for themselves. Not that being tribal stopped Skuller from doing exactly that. "Sounds kinda racist." Immediately the smile left Grover''s lips. "It... Is an effective way to plan any dealings with them. I believe you would call it trusting my instincts, in a way. So far, I''ve yet to be wrong. Just like how I trust your worries about this unknown entity." The transparent grey humanoid with black bones floating inside of it beneath its black leather clothes grunted but didn''t make any more remarks as they both kept on walking in the tunnels. Just because they didn''t plan to be Skuller''s reinforcements didn''t mean they couldn''t slowly approach them, just to make sure there wouldn''t be any bad surprises. Unsurprisingly, the slime was easy to manipulate so long as their ego was stroked. Grover had plenty of experience doing that.
"Everyone''s in place?" "Yes sir!" "Good." Skuller readied his arm before he threw a grenade at the wall of black bricks on the other side of the canal, roughly in the center. At his sides the thugs who accompanied him were standing in line and aiming their guns at the wall, ready to shoot if anything. The grenade detonated, spreading dust and rocky debris everywhere in the tunnel, many of them hitting Skuller and his team but none of them reacted. Skuller had drilled it into their heads when he briefed them about his plan, rocks may hurt but monsters kill. The orc''s face was inscrutable as he stared at the spot he had aimed at through the cloud of dust, waiting for it to clear so he could properly judge the extent of the damage. A smug look quickly reached his face once everything settled down, letting all see the wall and the effects of the grenade. The spot Skuller had hit wasn''t that badly damaged, mostly small cracks here and there that they wouldn''t have noticed without looking for them with their flashlights, but a spot a little further on right was suspiciously more impacted, small holes appearing in the stone and letting him take a glance at what seemed like some sort of hallway behind them. "Well boys, we found our monster''s lair. I''m throwing in another grenade, be ready to shoot if anything acts up." "Couldn''t you punch through what remains? It doesn''t look that solid." "Yeah, it doesn''t look like it, but ya see, that little thingy should have been strong enough to punch a hole through cement. So, how come those old sewer bricks held?" "Do you mean..." "Shark boy broke his hand for a reason. I don''t know how but it''s obvious why someone decided to either replace or upgrade these bricks. And sure, I could give it a good kick, but I ain''t betting my foot. Wasting a grenade is better than wasting me." The thug understood the reasoning but still didn''t look satisfied with the orc''s management of their supplies. Skuller would keep an eye out for that one. He didn''t expect Grover to be thorough enough to plant a spy in every team, but better be paranoid than dead. He had learned that the hard way, with his brother. "Ready? Here it comes!" Once more Skuller threw a grenade, except this time something weird happened. A black tentacle popped out of the black bricks on the ground and seized the grenade midair before tossing it back at Skuller and his men. Skuller didn''t even bother thinking about throwing it back or warning his guys, those things were quick. He immediately dived into the dirty water of the canal, uncaring about the stench and enormous leeches that immediately assaulted his body as an explosion occurred on the surface, sending a couple of the thugs into the water. Skuller might have been fine with dealing with leeches the size of his forearm with his thick skin but it wasn''t the case of the men that had unwillingly joined him the canal, not only because of their weak human skin but also the size difference. To the thugs, those things were closer to the size of their torso, and Skuller only had the time to rip a leech''s body off one of the two - leaving the head on the man, forcefully detaching a leech''s head was a terrible idea, you had to be delicate and now wasn''t the time - before the other thug was swarmed by even more of the things. Once he saw the state of the one in his arms Skuller decided not to bother with the two men, instead, he swam back to the surface purely with the strength of his legs while he killed every leech that had attached itself to him. As the orc emerged he caught sight of the carnage that had taken place in the small time it had taken him to return. All of his men were now weaponless and a pack of weird huge black rats had appeared out of nowhere, clawing and bitting them in a frenzy that spread blood everywhere. As he observed the scene Skuller made up his mind, this hunt wouldn''t succeed. A good hunter knew when things had gone south, and if this wasn''t things going south you could call him an elf. No, there was no point trying to save any of those men. He would return later. Without Grover. With better equipment. With his family. Those were the orc''s last thoughts as a gunshot rang through the sewers, the bullet lodging itself directly into the green humanoid''s head, straight through the brain. On the other side of the canal, James lowered his tentacle holding the gun he had taken from one of the thugs, carefully sending another tentacle to fish up the large man''s corpse. He quickly looked at Mischief''s fight in case any of them needed help or one of the opponents tried to flee, but it was unnecessary. Rats they were, they were still wild beasts. They knew how to maim and kill, they had to to survive. He was only a beginner in this domain. He hated the fact he now knew what taking a life felt like that, or he would once the adrenaline would run out once the raid would be over. For now, he had to be ready. Two teams down, two to go. Though, based on what I saw, it looks like Soluble and co will be playing second fiddle. Right now what''s more important is fixing the wall, once that''s done I could try to do something with Soluble''s infused bones, but that can wait. Polisson, holding the ripped-out throat of a thug in his shadowy claw, nodded at James. Mischief was done. This team had been fully taken out. No survivors. I can''t afford to distinguish between the hostile and the meek during a fight. I can''t... The first group all wanted to surrender, but this one... He didn''t know. And it terrified him. The orc clearly wouldn''t have surrendered, he saw it in his eyes, but the rest... Now is not the time. Moral debates and anxiety crises can come later, now? Now I must be ready for more. And more would come. Chapter 47 : The end of the raid The sight of a tall and bulky man covered in what appeared to be a bronze age armor made of clay would be odd on its own but combined with a troupe of over half a dozen armed men going from a simple thug with a basic gun to a pair of men wearing bulletproof vests and holding rifles it became terrifying. And it wouldn''t be good to forget the three mutants accompanying them, a small ratkin, a large lizardman, and a humanoid slime entity, containing a black skeleton and wearing black leather clothes. Many who lived in the slums have fled from this group. Even now, in the tunnels of the sewers, the wildlife surrounding them knew better than to approach. And yet, the men weren''t confident in their victory. They had lost contact with half of their original force and were now on their own. The two animalistic mutants were terrified by what they were hunting and their fear spread to many of the thugs. What kind of monster could take out so many armed men so quickly and terrorize mutants so thoroughly? Even a tribal orc had seemingly disappeared as soon as it encountered the beast. "Those idiots were useless." Grover, the tall armored man, looked at Soluble, the humanoid slime who was walking next to him. "They helped locate our target''s location, at least." "Sure, but we could have done it ourselves. If that thing isn''t at least a little injured when we find it, I''m gonna kill them." "Insubordination is the plague of the modern age." "Yeah, yeah. I''m just surprised Guy couldn''t find anyone better than that." "Oh, I''m certain he did, they just refused the contract. It wasn''t really rewarding, considering the risks taken." "What?" "A raid into the sewers to eliminate an entity without any information on it? The genuinely competent hitmen and mercenaries didn''t bother. Too many unknown for relatively small pay. I cannot blame them, my main objective isn''t the money, it''s the safety of getting rid of that silhouette. Those who made this their profession are used to letting dangerous creatures rampage to up the prices." "No, I know how scamming folks to kill their problems work, what I don''t understand is what makes you say the reward ain''t good. Guy said he had a sponsor and he would pay every survivor 10000 Xerins if that thing was dead." One of the thugs'' eyes almost budged out when he heard those words. "Wait what? I ain''t heard anything about 10000 Xerins. It was only 2500!" "This man is right. Guy only offered to pay me 5000 Xerins, and that was due to my expertise and Core. The price you mentioned, Soluble, might have attracted some better men." "Why would Guy lie to me? I''m the first one who wanted that thing dead." "Maybe he didn''t lie to you, but us. This may be an attempt at pocketing our rightful reward, which we would have never known without your honesty and honorable nature. Thank you, Soluble." Mark and Jeffrey, the lizardman and ratkin, eternal minions and companions of Soluble, exchanged a look. Guy wasn''t known for double-crossing anyone. His whole network was based on the fact he was one of the most trustworthy information sellers, relying on quality over quantity. Why lie for such a small operation? "Uh, sure, but-" "Hush now, Soluble. I think we reached it." As Grover spoke he raised an arm to signal the thugs to stop marching. They had entered the infamous tunnel with a black wall, and the sight they witnessed made more than one of them nauseous. Blood. So much blood. One wall of the tunnel may have been covered in black, but the one on the other side of the canal of refuse was covered in red. Liters of blood had been spilled, and yet there was no corpse. No lost limb. Nothing but silence and scarlet marks of violent deaths, as well as a spot of shattered stone where a detonation happened roughly in the middle. One of the thugs gulped, but both Grover and Soluble ignored it. Instead, they both stared at the black wall, made of perfectly pristine and cut bricks of black marble. "Skuller didn''t mention seeing blood, so either he lied or Brutus'' team and his were taken down differently." "Weren''t you the one who said he was going to betray us?" "Yes, but I didn''t hear any lie in his voice. I''m certain this carnage is what remains of him and his men." "So, what happened?" "Judging by the crater in the ground in the center of this bloodbath, I believed he tried to throw a grenade, and it was thrown back." "Sure, or that shadowy thing could have just tossed a grenade first." "It could have, but then why not utilize the same tactic against Brutus? His team was taken down silently and without a single hint left behind, whereas this... This is more eye-catching. So, why change?" "Alright, let''s say orc guy used a grenade and got blown up, but a grenade ain''t strong enough to do any of that. And there''d be pieces left anyway." "You are correct. So, the grenade was a distraction, or maybe to take down Skuller so that his team would be ripe for the picking. Then, it removed the bodies." "Why remove bodies but not the blood?" "Time, most likely. It must have heard us coming and chose to retreat in its lair, which must be hidden behind this wall." "What if it was a message?" Soluble and Grover both turned to stare at Jeffrey, the small ratkin trembling madly as the two Cored''s gazes fell upon him. "L-like, we thought it didn''t like to kill because it let us go, but what if it was warning? L-like, an ''I let you go once, leave now or you won''t leave at all'' kind of thing?" Both the slimy humanoid and the clay armored man pondered about Jeffrey''s words for all of a second before making their decision. "Perhaps, but it doesn''t matter." "We''re here to kill that thing, we ain''t leaving. What''s the plan now, Grover? Brutus wasn''t strong enough to break it and a grenade didn''t work either. So, what now?" "I brought something specifically for this kind of situation." Grover signaled for one of the men to come closer and began to search in his bag, pulling out a small round object with a bulbous center. He turned the round thing''s main body around the bulbous part three times clockwise and seven times counterclockwise, the dome beginning to glow red as he finished. He then approached the black wall and began to lightly tap it with a knife, listening to the sound the impact produced. When he reached a part that sounded hollow, he continued to tap around it, trying to find out the shape of the thin surface. Once he was satisfied with his examination, Grover knelt and stuck the strange object to it, the red glow going green. "Everyone, take your position. Be ready to shoot down anything that tries to leave." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Grover pressed the glowing dome, and it went blue. He jumped over the canal, landing in the remains of Skuller''s assault, and raised his arm to protect his face, the clay on it suddenly growing and spreading to form a small round shield that looked oddly similar to the device he had just placed. The device beeped once. Twice. Thrice. And then exploded. The entire tunnel shook, the thugs shambled left and right and some of them even fell. Jeffrey the ratkin almost slipped into the canal, being successfully caught a few hairs away from the water by Mark''s scaly arm, clutching his razor-sharp claws on the collar of Jeffrey''s shirt. Soluble''s slimy mass wobbled left and right as their skeleton stood unwavering, looking directly at the explosion, ignoring the pieces of black that flew and embedded themselves into them. Soon enough the cloud of dust brought by the explosion fell and all could see a gaping hole in the wall. One vaguely shaped like a doorway, which led to a long dark hallway. Grover slowly lowered his arm, the shield of solid clay retracting back into his armguard. He stared at the hole for a few long seconds. Nothing moved. Not a sound was made. "Men, we found our target. Be ready to engage. We enter now." The group gathered and stepped into the darkness of the hallway one after the other, the thugs entering first, followed by Soluble and his goons before Grover closed the march. Their steps echoed against the walls, disturbing the otherwise silent place. Quickly enough a voice addressed them. "Intruders, stop now." The men at the front stopped, but Soluble began to push them forward. "I''m offering you a chance to leave with your life. Surrender now and no harm will be done. Continue, and mercy shall be denied." "I''m here to kill ya, shadow thing, so I ain''t surrendering!" "Soluble. You failed to do anything last time, what makes you think you will succeed now?" "I have guys with me. With guns. And I know what you can do, so no nasty tricks this time!" "If that were true, you would have never returned. Not as an enemy." "Shut up!" "You who came here in search of violence, look at the one who led you here. Do you truly wish to risk your life based on the words of such a volatile person? One prone to anger? One who ignored the deaths that already occurred?" Some of the men looked at each other, but before they had the chance to make their choice Grover spoke out. "What is your name, you who dwells in shadows?" "You may call me Silhouette, warrior of clay. Do not think I did not have my eyes on you too." "Oh?" "You ordered your men to kill those that came here, no matter their fate. You had no intention of bringing everyone back." "Such is the life of a soldier. You''re ready to lose some men." "Maybe, but there is a distinction between being prepared to lose allies and ordering your troops to exterminate them." "How would you know, Silhouette? I do not see you leading a troupe against a hostile force." "Because I value my people. When the risk is too great, I face the threat alone." "Truly? Then face us." "As you please." Countless black tentacles emerged from every surface of the hallway, grabbing every person''s limbs, slithering around their torsos and necks - or at least attempting to. The men resisted, struggling to pull off the tentacles, those who had their weapons at the ready shot into them, Mark and Jeffrey ripped them to shreds with their claws and teeth while Soluble melted down everything they touched and Grover formed blades of clay to get rid of them. Before long the sound of snapping bones and necks echoed in the hallway as bodies fell to the ground, Grover and Soluble kept on advancing disregarding the deaths surrounding them while Mark and Jeffrey tried their best to follow after them and escape the forest of tentacles that sought them out. The four of them arrived in an empty hall, leaving behind all those they had brought with them, uncaring of their fates. Only the ratkin and the lizardman looked in terror at how easily the creature they had come to hunt dispatched a group of armed men, seemingly without a care. Soluble''s black leather clothes had been dissolved when they had increased their acidity, leaving their body bare for all to see. Now that it was uncovered, it became evident their skeleton wasn''t a perfectly normal one simply tented black. It was too smooth, not detailed enough, there were even some bones missing. Now more than ever, as they saw their friend''s and leader''s furious face, Mark and Jeffrey wondered if Soluble was a humanoid who had mutated to become slime-like or a slime who had mutated to become humanoid and intelligent. Grover dusted his armor, removing cut pieces of black tentacles that had stuck to it, either due to their odd composition or the shape of his armor. It didn''t matter. What mattered was that they had found their target, and it was willing to fight. "Is that all? Getting rid of untrained men is not an incredible act, Silhouette." The sounds of choking and struggling men slowly stopped, and a figure emerged from the darkness of the hallway, joining the four in the hall. It was humanoid, somewhat, it had a head resting on a neck connected to what appeared to be shoulders, but its body was too angular, too thin, as though the thing before them was a shadow projected on the air instead of the ground. "Mark and Jeffrey do not appear to share your apathy, Grover." "Those two are not important." "Yeah! What''s important is that you''re done!" "Oh? What makes you so confident, Soluble?" "I know your tricks. I ain''t gonna sit back and let you shoot me this time." "And I will not be taken down with a mere bullet. From what I''ve seen you are a trickster, Silhouette, not a warrior. You have no chance. Surrender." "Wait, what? We''re here to kill it!" "Silence, Soluble. This is a unique opportunity to recruit a rare specimen. Can you imagine how good of a thief that creature could be? Your vengeance is not our priority." "REPEAT THAT TO MY FACE YOU OVERGROWN BRICK!" "DO NOT INSULT ME, PEST. We have an opponent to incapacitate first." "I find your overconfidence inappropriate. How many of you were sent down to eliminate us? Only four remain now. Oh, actually. Mark, Jeffrey. Despite your troublesome past with Barry and Larry, you are free to surrender, and I guarantee you will be treated fairly." "Mark, Jeffrey, don''t." The small ratkin and the large lizardman shared a look, and... "Sorry, Soluble." "You''ve gone too far thisss time. We sssurender." "YOU IDIOTS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" "We give up, Soluble. If you want to get yourself killed, fine." "But you do it without usss." Soluble looker at their companions, their best friends since childhood... And promptly rushed on them to pummel them with their acidic fists. A wall of shadows rose between the slime and their old goons, forming a few tentacles to quickly open a hidden door in the wall before closing it back, just in time to retract into the wall to avoid being cut off by a glaive of clay and for the wall to reform into the humanoid figure of Silhouette. "I did not expect much from you, Soluble, but to try to kill Mark and Jeffrey? I see now that, even if you hadn''t threatened my employees, we would never have been able to see eye to eye." "SHUT UP!" Soluble raised their fist and threw it at Silhouette, their arm lengthening like an elastic jelly to increase their reach and hit him but he formed a hole in his body through which the arm went through before the momentum shortened it back to its regular length, destabilizing Soluble in the process. Grover took this opportunity to try and impale Silhouette with a spear of clay, the shadowy entity bending at an impossible angle for a being with bones and nearly touching his "foot" with his head before he melted into the ground to avoid another assault of Soluble, their form growing less and less humanoid as they just pounced at where their opponent had stood barely a second ago. Silhouette reformed in the dark of the hallway, holding a pair of guns in a couple of tentacles and aiming them at Soluble and Grover, the mass of grey translucent slime containing a black human skeleton and the clay armored warrior looking warily at the shadowy entity. "Do you remember our last encounter, Soluble? You should be familiar with my weapon." "I told you, I ain''t falling for that twice!" Grover quickly formed another shield of clay and thickened his armor, effectively covering all of his skin - except for his face, hidden behind the shield. "And my clay won''t lose to a bullet." Silhouette didn''t bother answering and simply pulled the triggers. Soluble lunged to the side to avoid anything that might have been fired at them but... Nothing came. They immediately turned around and got to witness the horrifying sight of Grover''s body being filled with black electricity, it entered his every pore and left them just as quickly to reenter into the next again and again. His body was plagued by spasms, his eyes rolled back in his skull and he foamed at the mouth as cries of terror and agony escaped his throat until it become too sore and damaged to let any sound out. His armor of clay solidified and shattered, falling into pieces and dust on the ground. His body soon followed, landing with a resounding thud. Soluble looked from the body of the broken man, still wrecked by black electricity, to Silhouette as he came out of the darkness. In his left tentacle, the one aimed at Soluble, there was the black he had used before but... His other tentacle. His other weapon. It was something else. Just as black, but... That nightmare of a weapon didn''t fire bullets, based on what happened to Grover. "I must admit, Soluble. I am heavily disappointed. Both in you, and your partner. I expected more." "I... I surrender!" "No, Soluble. You don''t." "W-what?" "You had your chance. Twice. The first when I let you go, the second when you entered my home. Now? Now there are no prisoners." "You... You can''t-" "I can, and I will, Soluble. The last time I chose to show mercy. This time? I''m finishing what I started." "Wha-" "Let''s continue where we left off if you please." Suddenly pain overwhelmed the humanoid slime. Their bones didn''t itch, no, it was something far worse. It was like someone had stolen their bones and replaced them with molten lead. It spread through their gelatinous form, uncaring of the acid that made it up. "If you''re lucky, Soluble, there will be nothing left of you when I''m done." Soluble screeched. Chapter 48 : The weight of words James looked down at the spasming figure of Soluble, their translucent mass slowly getting overtaken by an inky substance emanating from their bones. They screamed, no, screeched, a high sound that resonated throughout the hall, the hallway, and even the tunnel the lair''s entrance was hidden in. James didn''t bother paying any more attention to them, he knew they would not be getting back up any time soon. He knew what the slime was capable of. The other person currently enduring a painful experience in the room however was a complete mystery. James approached the fallen body of Grover, the tall man''s clay armor had been destroyed once the black electricity bolt of the infused electrogun armed with the infused battery had hit him. Even now loose black bolts emerged from the man''s flesh before returning inside, like some kind of demented worm full of energy and a sadistic joy in inflicting as much pain as possible in their poor victim. That couldn''t be the case, surely. Those were only loose sparks, nothing more. Hopefully. James picked up the man and began to rummage through the pockets of the camo clothing he had worn underneath the armor. He took out everything he saw, no matter what it looked like, just in case it could be a trap or be used as a means of escape. He carefully examined each item - some keys, a few knives, a throwing dagger, a lighter, a radio, some basic lockpicking equipment, a pack of mints... Nothing that screamed ''secret doomsday device'', but he would still pass them all to Sam to see if the young tech prodigy could find anything special. He would never be too safe. The raid was over. The threat was gone. All of their enemies had been defeated, either killed or imprisoned and yet... James felt hollow. No. This isn''t over yet. I still have those who surrendered to deal with. "Polisson!" The large black rat with the shadowy paw ran into the hall, coming from the outside. "Yes, master?" "Have Mischief clean up the blood outside. And bring the bodies in the hallway to the storage room." "The doors, master." "Ah, yes. Give me a moment." James emptied his head and focused on his connections to infused objects. He ignored the ongoing fight in Soluble''s body and turned towards the various fake walls he had made and, with some concentration, remotely detached them from the rest of the walls they were each connected to. "You should be able to push them down now." "Thank you, master." "Oh, and Polisson?" "Yes, master?" "Good job. All of you." "It is our duty, master." James looked at the rat go as he left, staying unmoving in the center of the hall for some time. Alone with his thoughts. His doubts. His guilt. "Come on, now. Let''s see what the two of you will have to say." James grabbed the unconscious forms of Soluble and Grover - enveloping the slime into what little remained of their leather clothes to make carrying them easier - and advanced further into his lair to go to the little jail he had improvised. It wasn''t much, mostly a large empty room - bar a small box - with three barred cells. He had planned to put the different teams in the different cells at first, but the teams were larger than he thought they''d be. Each cell could handle a couple of people, four at most if things got cramped, but... Only one team had surrendered. There were only six of them. Might as well let them roam free in the empty room, they were unarmed after all. Well, that was not quite true. There were another two that had surrendered, but James had led them to another room before his fight with the two Cored. They were waiting in his war room, probably worried about their fate. He would have to deal with them soon enough. When he reached the door to the jail he took the time to stop and listen to what the thugs that had already surrendered were doing. "Sooo... Things have gone awfully quiet." "What do you think happened?" "Considering the explosion I guess they blew their way in?" "I mean, that one''s pretty obvious. It''s more the ''everything has gone silent after a bunch of noise'' that gets to me." "Understandable. But, I have no idea. My trick is finger guns, not clairvoyance." "How does that even work? Are they like, bullets of air that magically form, or is it a bunch of bone pieces that detach themselves?" "It''s a secret." "Oh come on, you can''t tease us like this. We all surrendered together! We''re a team!" "We''re the Shadow Commando!" "That''s still a horrible name but this guy gets it!" "I don''t think surrendering is considered a team-bonding experience..." "How dare you disrespect the importance of cowardice!" "Besides, if board games are a way to bond, all agreeing not to face overwhelming odds that would certainly result in an agonizing death should be one too." "Yeah, that too." "Anyway, all that aside... Who do you think won?" "I dunno, probably the boss of this place? Otherwise, there would have been more explosions and gunshots and they''d have come for us by now?" Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. "Yeah, but counterpoint: if clay guy and slime person lost, why didn''t anyone come to see us, either to discuss the terms of release or to finish the job?" "True, true." "What if they all killed each other and we''re trapped in this room?" "Ah. That would be problematic." "I finished my rations, by the way." "According to Barca''s guide to survival, it''s the first one to waste all of his food who should be eaten first." "Wasn''t Barca a cannibal? Like, with people''s pieces in his fridge." "Yes, and?" "I feel like a cannibal''s opinions on food management aren''t objective. "No, no, he''s got a point. A cannibal would know the best way to manage eating people." "Why are you so obsessed with eating him anyway?" "Not him, it''s just a survival thing. Like that boat full of rich people that sank and they all had to survive on a raft until another boat passed by and saved them. They ate a lot of people." "I mean, he ain''t wrong. Cannibalism is common in strandings. When you don''t have food, the dead become the food. Even if you have to do the killing yourself." "Alright, you do you. I''m just saying, if any of you try to eat me, I''m finger gunning his head off." "Noted. So... Anyone has some cards? I forgot mine at home." "Depends. Classic cards or sports cards?" "I was thinking something more along the lines of Technology, The Division." "Dude. No." "But-" "No." I think they had enough fun... James moved the door and entered the room, still dragging the raid''s two leaders'' unconscious and occasionally spasming forms behind him as the thugs all stood at once and faced him, surprise and slight fear etched on their faces. "I see you behaved. For that I am grateful." "Uh... You''re welcome?" James continued to advance, closing the door behind him and fusing back with the wall as he went directly to the cells, ignoring the thugs'' nervous reactions and the way they all stepped back to keep some distance from him. He formed tentacles that latched onto the bars of the cells and removed them, placing Soluble and Grover in two different ones before he put back the bars in place. "Now that this has been taken care of, I think it is time we have a little conversation. Namely, what to do with you." "We... Surrendered, so... You ain''t gonna kill us, right?" "Oh, no. Do not worry. I promised no harm would come to you, and I will uphold that promise. But, you must understand that I cannot simply let potentially hostile strangers walk away scot-free after they entered my home. There is a reason I elected to dwell in these dark forgotten tunnels, after all." "So... You''re going to keep us here?" "It would be the most logical solution. Unpractical, however, since sustaining long-term prisoners is a chore that, frankly, I have no wish to enact. Hence this conundrum." "So... What?" "I''m offering you another choice. Something that I may come to regret, but hope will prove to be the right decision." "You''re kinda killing me with the suspense here dude." "I''m offering you a job." "You''re what now." "Jobs?" "How''s the pay?" "A hundred Xerins every week." "Oh, that''s-" "Each." "Where do I sign?" "Whoa, you''re fine hiring us? After we tried to kill you?" "Well, we gave up before we even saw him..." "Worse! We immediately gave up! That''s not encouraging behavior!" "Don''t look the gift horse in the mouth, lass. But I do want to hear what''s the job first." "I already have two employees, Larry and Barry - you may be familiar with them?" "Nope." "Never heard of ''em." "Aren''t they the guys Soluble hates?" "I think they sold me a broken watch once?" "In any case, they act as my contacts to the outside world. They buy what I ask them to, inform me about the latest news, and are loyal. Hence why I do pay them more than I offer you. They have my trust. You do not yet. But, as for what I want you to do... I want you to protect them. This little fiasco of yours proved that, despite doing my best to stay out of everyone''s way, some still wish to do me harm. That I will not allow." "So we''ll be bodyguards?" "At first. Who knows what the future holds for us. I did not get to use the traps I had set up, since you all attacked at once in large groups, but adding guards may be a worthwhile endeavor." "Traps?" "Spikes that would pop up out of the ground, the walls, and sometimes even the ceiling. Useless against large groups sadly, but one day they might have to prove their effectiveness." "Meh, I can do guard stuff. Looking scary''s easy." "Yeah, you do have one ugly mug." "Eh!" "Escorting? Yeah, I can do that." While the men began to cheer and discuss the job they had been offered, the sole woman among them seemed uncomfortable about something. "Uh... Just to be curious... How many of us surrendered? Like, this is the jail, right? Where are the others?" "If I do not take into account your group, two people surrendered." She did not like that answer. "Two?" "Two." "How... Many of them escaped?" "None." She really did not like this answer. "... None?" "None." "Oh." Silence stretched on between the two, the rest of the thugs sharing concerned looks at the weight of James'' words. "How... Many died?" "I have yet to count the bodies. The entire group, except for you, Soluble, Grover, and the other two surrenderees, is no more." A chill went down each of their spines. "And who-" "Mostly myself. Some of my subordinates, ones not suited to the surface world, handled that orc''s, Skuller, group, but I took care of the others. Brutus and the eight men who accompanied Soluble and Grover." "I see." "If you-" "I''ll work for you." "As I said, I have no plans on harming you-" "I don''t mind working for someone who has blood on their hands. We all do here. That''s why we were hired by Grover. And I appreciate a boss who cares." "I... Thank you. Your first task will be to watch over these two prisoners. In the meantime, I will make the same offer to the other two surrenderees and start to work on repairing the entrance." "You heard that, guys? The Shadow Commando''s first job, guard duty!" ""Yeah!"" "I still think that name''s stupid." "Uh, boss, could we get our weapons back?" "No. Not yet. But here." James approached the bow in a corner of the room, unfused the lid and the body, and opened it, revealing a pile of black rods. "These are maces." "Look like stone sticks." "Yes, but upgraded stone. The same material as the walls of this place." ""Oooh."" "Use these in case either of our friends tries to break out. They should stay out cold for a while, but I prefer to be safe." "Couldn''t the slime pass through the bars? I mean the skeleton could get stuck, but I''m not sure?" "Soluble won''t do anything. Of this I am sure. If they try, hit them with the maces and scream. I will come." "You got it, boss." James left the jail, heading to his war room. Behind him, once he had left them alone, the Shadow Commando began to talk once more. "Why did you say Shadow Commando? He''s gonna use that now! We''re stuck with that awful name!" "I dunno, it had a nice dramatic flair." "Don''t you ''dramatic flair'' me!" "Anyway, how come you were so nervous about what happened to everyone else but when he said he killed them all you were fine with working for him?" "Because he counted them." "And?" "Do you remember how many people you''ve killed?" "I... No..." "We stop counting when we stop caring." "Maybe he''s just a professional?" "He said he had chosen this spot because it was isolated. No one knows about him. He speaks in an overly dramatic way." "So?" "He ain''t a professional. If anything, my gut is telling me this was his first human kill." "He seemed awfully calm for a first-blooder." "Easy to lie without a face." "True." "So... What?" "We stay. A hundred Xerins may not be much, but... I think he''s a good guy. And I''m tired of working for jerks." "Good guys are usually the first to get killed." "Maybe." The woman smiled. "But I have a good feeling." Chapter 49 : A life in the slums Mark and Jeffrey, the lizardman and ratkin duo that had accompanied Soluble through all these years, through thick and thin, through Sickler hordes, through Patchee hunts, through Wicked Witchcraft''s mad rampages... And yet here they were. Just the two of them. Alone in a great dark room that looked like the seat of power of some dark cult. No Soluble in sight. They had decided to sit on the ground, not trusting the seats around the round table and out of fear they might anger someone if they did use them. They just sat there, each one laying his back against the dark bricks of a wall, their gaze vacant. Time had no meaning to them. They didn''t know how long they stayed in this silence. Minutes? Hours? Days? Frankly, neither cared. How could they? "Did you... Did you ever think..." "It would end thisss way? Sssometimes. When I didn''t believe in anything. When I felt down. But it lasted for a sssmall inssstant. Because then we''d all be together. Why would Sssoluble harm usss? We''re friends after all. Ah, how ssstupid I was." "Why did they..." "They probably never cared, Jeffrey. We were jussst... The two blokesss who were willing to hang out with them. Their fellow failuresss." "Please don''t say that Mark..." "Why not? It''sss all true. We''re the leftoversss, the trash of the ssslumsss. Even Barry and Larry handle thingsss better than we do." "But..." "We were born better than humansss, and yet sssome elf and dwarf kidsss ended up causing usss ssso much trouble." "..." "..." "Do you remember the day we met?" "..." "..." "Yesss..." "Do you think they do?" "I don''t know. I''m not them. That''sss the only good thing about me." "You''re a great guy, Mark." "Great guys don''t end up like thisss, Jeffrey." "Of course they do, we''re here after all." "Humf." "..." "..." "Thank you, Mark. For trying." "Someone has to be positive, and that''s my job, right? I''m the funny goofball after all." "Eh, you better not change..."
Soluble was lost. They were alone, floating in a great black void. Nothing around. No sound. No smell. No taste. They were just there, their transparent grey goo in a humanoid shape hanging on their good old black skeleton. There was an odd sensation spread throughout their being, as well as an odd cold deep within, but otherwise, they were fine. Handling things better than they thought they would after... Whatever that shadowy thing had done to them. "Look at the poor little thing. Lost in its own lies. How pitiful." "How stupid." "Weak." "Pathetic." "WHO SAID THAT?" Soluble tried to turn around, fighting against the great apathy of the black void surrounding them, but no matter where they looked there was no one there. "You poor thing. Trying to find what they never could." "How predictable." "WHO ARE YOU? SHOW YOURSELVES!" "Why should we? This isn''t show-and-tell dearie." "I''M GOING TO MELT YOUR FACES OFF!" "Is the little thing trying to pick a fight so soon after getting obliterated?" "I''d say it has guts, but it''s apparent it doesn''t." "All bark, no bite. Always the same thing with you." "What are you talking about, you idiots?!" "Do you truly think of yourself as a predator, dear?" "You are a slime. You''re a bottom feeder. The occasional specimen may become more, but at the core, you''re nothing more than a glorified worm." "I''M NOT A WORM!" "Oh oh oh, of course not." "Worms fulfill an important role in the ecosystem. You do not." "Worms have a plethora of uses outside of their nature-granted one. You do not." "Worms live simple and happy lives. You do not." "STOP IT! DON''T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" "Oh, we do." "Soluble, the failure." "Soluble, the little nobody who thought they''d make it big." "Soluble, the one who failed to hunt a shadow." "Soluble, the monster who tried to kill their friends." The last one. The last one hit something within Soluble. "They... They were abandoning me. They betrayed me. THEY AREN''T MY FRIENDS!" "Oh, my." "Filthy liar." "Friend killer." "You''re the one who dragged them into a dangerous dark abyss." "You''re the one who cast them aside in search of vengeance." "You''re the one who threatened to kill them if they left." "You''re the one who abandoned them." "You''re the one who tried to kill them." "They aren''t my friends! Just... Just two idiots who knew they should obey me! I don''t need anyone!" "Oh, is that a fact?" "Or your last tactic to cloud your mind? "A vain attempt at justifying your actions." "Let us go back and watch, why don''t we." Suddenly the world around Soluble shifted. Gone was the black void, instead they were inside an old abandoned house of red bricks. A little no-good shelter in the middle of the slums with holes in its roof from where the rain fell to the wooden boards of the floor as a storm raged on in the sky, deafening thunder crackling and lightning bolts flashing, the only source of light in the night. "Is that..." A small grey blob, barely the size of a kitten, with a black core the size of a fingernail in its center shuddered under a table, its wobbling mass shaking in fear whenever the lightning struck. A loud noise echoed through the house. The unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by heavy steps on wood. They quickly approached the small room the slime was hidden in, and soon enough the door was opened- "Gooby? Where are you?" And in walked an old scientist. The man had to be in his eighties, with a long thick white beard. He had broad shoulders and a bald head, a pair of round glasses on his bulbous nose. His pale skin and the bags under his eyes were a clear indicator that the man wasn''t getting enough rest. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. At the sight of the man, the little slime did the same thing as always. "Gloo!" It jumped from its hiding spot and landed on the scientist''s chest, straight on his white lab coat''s chest pocket, and used the opening to secure itself into place as it nuzzled the man. "Gooby! Why were you hiding under the table?" The slime ignored the man, only focusing on his fingers as he began to pat and pet and scratch the odd lifeform. "The storm, eh?" He looked at the roof and stared at the wrathful sky through its many holes. "And Marley thinks it''s a good idea to test his stupid machine today..." Hearing the cynism in the man''s voice, the slime put a halt to its petting time and tried to cheer him up, forming small little nubs to pat him in turn. Seeing the adorable little grey blob''s efforts made him chuckle and brought a smile to his face. "Thank you, Gooby." The man approached his desk, the piece of furniture being the only thing in his office that wasn''t in an excessive state of disrepair, and carefully began to draw with his finger on its surface. A two. A sheep. A ship. A six. A cat. A smile. A sphinx. A circle. As he finished the last one the desk began to glow blue, its light spreading to the rest of the office before soon enough it disappeared, leaving the man and his little slime in a different room, a blue and green high tech lab that would have looked more at home on a spaceship than in a random broken house in the slums, filled with dozens of strange contraptions that would have never fit in the building they were supposed to be in. The scientist took a small violet shard out of one of his coat''s pockets and dropped it in a receptacle in one of the many devices, an odd thing with a thousand arms all constantly moving seemingly with no pattern and yet never colliding with each other. A screen lit up in the air, showcasing data and analysis of the weather and the strange shard. "Everything indicates this mad man''s attempt will fail... And potentially destroy this entire city. Even without this shard. I can''t let him do this." The man pressed a button on another device - a simple printer - and took in his hands the dozens of pages of data the machine had just finished a second later. He returned to his wooden desk, the only thing that hadn''t changed with the room, and began to draw patterns once more. An eight. An apple. An elephant. An airplane. An octagon. The blue light shined once more and they were back to the old broken house. The scientist was ready to run outside when a little something made itself known by patting his chest. "Gooby..." The man carefully scooped the little slime out of his pocket and knelt to put it on the ground, petting its head to keep it in place as it tried to climb back on him. "Gooby, daddy has to go back to work." "Gloo!" "I know, I just came back, but there is something important I have to do. Don''t worry, I''ll be back soon. Keep the house safe for me, alright?" The little grey thing wobbled. "I won''t be long, I promise." The man left, and Gooby was left alone. Thunder roared and Gooby rushed back to its hiding place under the broken table. It began to wait. It waited as the rain continued to fall. It waited as the storm raged on. It waited as the sky turned red. It waited as the weather cleared. It waited as the sun rose. It waited as the sun fell. It waited as snow fell. It waited as flowers blossomed. It waited as the sun shined. It waited as the leaves fell. It waited.
Soluble snapped out of his trance, back to a black void, far away from the memories of the past. "What did you-" "Looks like you needed someone, Soluble. "Poor little Gooby. Daddy never came home. I wonder why." "Look where you ended up without him. You''re nothing more than a pet abandoned on the side of the road. One who grew up to become a nuisance. "I... I don''t need... Anyone..." "Oh, are you sure of that?" The world shifted once more, back to the old broken house of red bricks. The slime had grown, now the size of a large dog, as well as its core, now the size of a bowling ball. It roamed through the old house, taking on a weird shambling quadrupedal shape, walking on thin yet resilient tendrils of grey slime it had formed. It guarded the house, keeping it safe, for it was still waiting. The sound of shattered glass echoed somewhere in the house. Gooby ran on its thin wobbly legs towards the sound had come from, seeing someone rummaging through a dresser next to the bed its father slept in when he stayed for the night. It didn''t need to think. It pounced on them, spreading their transparent grey mass on their body in a flash. They didn''t even have time to scream before they were entirely engulfed in the slime, eyes gone wide as they opened their mouth, only offering more oriffices for Gooby to fill. It only made sure to form a separate orb of slime to keep its core safe. Before long Gobby had turned its acidity to the maximum, quickly burning away the skin of the intruder. The red flesh and muscles beneath took more effort, but Gooby had all its time. It had already waited for years. A few hours later only a skeleton was left of the intruder. Every organ, nerve, and tissue had been burned away, only leaving white bones behind. The slime began to play with its meal to pass the time, hitting bones together to make music and clacking the skull''s teeth like castanets. As it played, an idea formed in its mind. Forming limbs was always so hard, why not use the skeleton''s? It moved its mass around, using the bones as a basis to form a humanoid shape and storing its core in the ribcage. Before long it had succeeded, standing up in a macabrely hilarious wobble on its two new plantigrade legs. It had no balance and had to keep its hands on the wall to avoid falling, but it could walk! Its new game of "pretend to be human" kept it entertained for months. It slowly got better and better, no longer needing to rely on the wall to stay balanced, mimicking gestures it had seen its father do and even the few people it saw through the windows of the house. As time passed, its core began to shrink as the skeleton darkened and smoothened, some bones even fusing or melting away. After a year had passed, Gooby''s core had fully been integrated into the intruder''s skeleton that had become black. One day, as it was cleaning the old house of red bricks, it heard an odd thing. A new sound it had never experienced before. Sobbing. Gooby searched throughout the house until at last, it found them. From the broken window of the bedroom, it could see two small humanoid creatures, a ratkin and a lizardman, both laying on their side and crying as three humans kicked them in the chest. Gooby stood there and watched, curious about the odd phenomenon. It had never had the chance to interact with any human outside of its father and intruders, and those last ones were to be destroyed. Witnessing a social ritual was a new experience, one they greatly enjoyed. "Come on, you freaks! Ain''t you gonna defend yourselves?" "Please... leave us alone..." "Hear that guys? I think we ain''t kicking them hard enough!" "Ssstop..." "Humf. It ain''t even fun anymore. Wanna break into that house and steal the stuff inside?" "Ain''t that the one where things go missing all the time?" "Why, you gonna chicken out?" "Bwak bwak!" "I ain''t no chicken! Come on, let''s-" Gooby didn''t let them finish. As nice as seeing this social interaction was it wouldn''t let intruders into its father''s house. It jumped out the window and engulfed the closest human, locking his limbs into place with its own skeletal ones, quickly rising its degree of acidity and burning away his flesh. "Greg!" "What the hell is that thing?" Its first victim sufficiently wounded, Gooby pounced from him to the nearest human, the man screaming as he thought to get the slime off of him - with no success. Seeing the state of his friends the third one ran away, madly screaming all the while. Once Gooby felt like its second victim had sustained enough damage it dislodged itself from his body, the man gasping for breath through his hole-ridden throat, his red exposed flesh leaking blood before soon enough he let out his final breath. Gooby stood up and examined the two little humanoids the trio had been interacting with. Were they friends? They had done nothing during the attack. In fact, it appeared they had been hurt by the trio. Were these two intruders or not? The lizard looked at Gooby in fear, but the rat rose on his feet as he spoke. "Thank... Thank you." Gooby kept on staring. He had thanked him? Then they must not have been with the intruders. "What''s your name? I''m Jeffrey, and this is Mark." "Gooby." "Goo... Gooby? That''s an odd name." "Father chose. Good name." "Oh, yes! I wasn''t saying it''s bad!" "Good. Intruders?" "Oh, no, we... We were just passing by after getting some bread and... Guess they wanted bread too..." What had its father said was the name of younger creatures of the same species? Children? Yes, that was the word. "Do... So you want some? Mark hid a small loaf under his shirt, I would have done it but I always get fur everywhere." "Bread?" "Yes, bread." "No." "Oh. Uh, would you mind... If we slept here tonight? I don''t think we''ll manage to get back home before the night after getting kicked like that." "No intruders!" "Oh, no, we''re not intruders! If you don''t want us to enter we can just stay outside!" Gooby thought. Its father had said to keep the house safe. If they weren''t inside the house, then it should have still been safe, no? "Ok." "Oh, thank you... Gooby. Oh, will your father be alright with this?" "Ask when he comes back." "Oh, do you know when?" "No." "How... How long has it been?" "Don''t know." "... More than a week?" "Yes." "A month?" "Yes." "A year? The four seasons?" "Yes." "Are you... Alone, in there?" "Yes." "Gooby... Do you know what an orphan is?" "No." "It''sss when your parents die or leave you to die." "Mark!" "Can''t coddle them, Jeffrey. Besidesss, look at them. At what they did to those guys. They''re strong enough to handle it." "Father... no... come back?" "Yesss, ''Gooby''. Father ain''t gonna come back home." "But... He promised..." "Maybe Mark is wrong and he''ll come back! If you want to, we could wait for him with you for a little bit." "... Yes."
"I... I don''t need anyone." "Poor little Gooby." "Poor little Soluble." "Not a human cursed with an acidic nature." "But a slime who thought he could be a person." "A killer from the start." "Look where you ended up without your father." "You don''t need them, you say?" "But they needed you." "And you betrayed them." "I... GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" "But why?" "Is it because we are the will of the thing you thought?" "Maybe the personification of its mental assault on your psyche?" "But maybe we are your thoughts, finally given voice and the chance to act." "Or just demons who want to have some fun." "Does it matter, when you aren''t listening?" "STOP IT!" And thus Soluble screamed in the black void. Alone.
Finally, a figure entered the room where Mark and Jeffrey waited. One they had both been expecting, but fearing the visit. "Mark, Jeffrey." "Missster..." "Silhouette." "Uh, guess Soluble wasn''t that far off." "Yes, they weren''t. Now, we need to talk about your future." "We''re sorry about Barry and Larry." "And Sssoluble." "Oh, do not worry. I am not petty enough to blame you two. So, here is my offer. You two work for me, 200 Xerins each every week. You get to become Larry and Barry''s bodyguards or assist in the various tasks that will soon come in this lair. What do you say?" "Without Soluble..." "Without a home..." "Yes." "We''re in." "Good. As for Soluble, they are currently experiencing the effects of a prototype weapon. They may live, they may not, they may be the same person when it''s done, they may not. I wanted you to know, to not be surprised if they never appear again - or if they do." "Uh, thank you?" "Yes, yes. Now, the first order of business for you two... Neither of you would happen to be an electrician?" "No?" "Ah well, it was to be expected. Interrogation?" "That was more Sssoluble''sss thing. You know, with the whole acid body thing." "Uhm, yes. Well, I suppose you have no knowledge of magic or technology?" "Yeah, no." "Negotiations?" "Somewhat?" "Relations?" "Ah! That we can do!" "Really?" "Yeah, we know Guy. And Guy knowsss lotsss of folksss." "Oh! We also know some of the factionless guys who hang around the Black Block! Maybe they''d like a job too?" "I suppose it will have to do. Now then, I will let your new superiors fill you in on what they expect from you. In the meantime, I have to handle the repairs of the entrance, which your little raid party had a wonderful time exploding." "Uh, sorry?" Silhouette didn''t bother to answer as he left the room, only saying one last thing as he passed the doorway, letting the thin wall of black bricks open. "Larry, Barry, they''re yours now." Two new figures entered the room as Silhouette disappeared, though these newcomers were much more familiar to the animalistic duo. One tall thin man and one small broad one. "How the turntables, uh Larry?" "Didn''t that already happen when the boss beat them the first time?" "Just let me gloat." "Okie Dokie Barry!" Chapter 50 : The two prisoners When Grover woke up, the first thing he noticed was how numb and yet hurt his entire body felt. The second thing he noticed was the walls of black bricks all around him, as well as vertical bars of some black metal - he was in a cell. His first instinct was to flex his connection to his clay armor, but he was disturbed to find there was nothing there. He didn''t remember exactly what happened with this Silhouette, but the weapon Soluble had reported shouldn''t have been able to damage his armor. Clay filled with magical energies was rare and finding someone who knew how to enchant it without making a golem or pottery of some kind was hard. He knew the enchanter that had worked on his armor was a talented one, so a regular weapon should have had no chance of damaging it, at least in a way it wouldn''t have been able to regenerate. The only possible explanation would be... "An enchantment breaker?" "Uh, guys? The old boss is awake." Grover finally took notice of the thugs outside of his cell. In normal circumstances, he would have seen them immediately, but the loss of his armor must have greatly shaken him. He hadn''t realized he had gotten so used to it. He would have to remedy that later. In any case, it appeared there were six of them in the room, each wielding some strange black rod. He couldn''t see well due to being locked up but from the position of his cell in the room, it appeared there must have been at least a couple more to his right. All the light in the room appeared to come from a strange lantern housing a black flame, resting on top of what looked like a chest of some sort. "Men, status report." "You got trounced." "Hard." This was why he hated working with freelancers. "Get me out of here. There must be a way out of this place, we''ll come back at a later date with a greater force." "Yeah, no." "What?" "There has been a change of plans." "We switched sides." "What? How? When? Why?" "We thought this place belonged to the Black Bank-" "Because hiring a bunch of nobodies to assault a place filled with black stuff was suspicious." "-and chose to surrender." "Turns out, it''s totally unrelated to the Black Bank-" "At least we think so." "-but the guy in charge accepted our surrender and then offered us a job." "Cowards! You would betray your superior to save your own hide?" "Yeah, we did." "We also got better pay. Long-term stuff at that." "And hey, it''s not like you valued any of our lives. The new boss passed by a second ago and told us about the whole ''shoot anyone on sight'' policy." "So yeah, pot calling the kettle black." "Release me! Do you have any idea of who I am?" "No, but I''d be glad if you were to remedy that." Grover turned around and saw that standing right behind him, emerging from the darkness of a corner of the cell, was a strange humanoid shadow. "Silhouette." "You seem surprisingly lively for someone hit by electricity not so long ago." "Electricity?" "Did you take me for some kind of savage? That I only had the one weapon Soluble saw? I did not think you would be so naive." "I cannot be blamed for faulty intel." "No, but you can be blamed for horrible tactics. Your management of your men was subpar at best. I understand you did not value their lives, but to throw them en masse at a problem three times in a row despite the first two being absolute failures? If I did not know any better, I''d assume you were trying to get them all killed." Grover stared in silence at the odd entity he was conversing with. He had heard Soluble talk about it and seen it himself when he fought against it earlier, but this was his first chance to truly take it in. Soluble''s account of a "living shadow" seemed pretty accurate, but there had to be more. Was it unique? A mutant? An unknown magical species? "As you may have heard from my latest batch of employees, you''re on your own. No one will come to save you, so cooperate." "I was contacted by an information broker named Guy-" "No." "No?" "I listened to your little conversation with Soluble about Guy''s reward. The amounts mentioned intrigued me. Isn''t money supposed to be hard to come by in the slums? It''s why most people are here, after all. The only ones who have money in the slums are those that avoid the law. Guy is merely an information broker, the messenger, so who was willing to finance this little expedition? Whether he lied to Soluble or the rest of them doesn''t matter. What does is the fact you were here. You said it yourself, truly competent people wouldn''t take this mission. So why did you?" Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. "I-" "You weren''t hired by Guy. You were his sponsor''s way of controlling things. If my guess is correct, then you did an incredibly poor job. You didn''t want witnesses. You didn''t want me dead as you claimed to until the very last minute. So, who do you work for, and what do they want with me?" "Release me and I will send you a letter." "This isn''t how negotiations work, Grover. You do not get to make demands when I hold your life in the palm of my hand." "You won''t kill me. You spared Soluble and I''m too valuable for you to lose." "Is that so? Then I have a surprise for you." Grover heard something and looked out of his cell, ignoring the group of guards who were awfully pretending not to listen to their conversation, and focused on the new figure that slowly approached the bars of the cell. One that looked eerily similar to Silhouette, if only less refined, less controlled. Gover''s eyes widened. There were two of the things? Did that mean they were truly a species? A group? This... This changed everything. "What is the meaning of this?" "Grover, don''t you recognize your ally? I shouldn''t be surprised, considering the way you treat them." "What are you talking about..." "You see, during my last encounter with Soluble, I did not simply spare them out of the kindness of my heart. They were only an insignificant thug, someone I did not need to be afraid of. No connections, no secret strength waiting to be unleashed... But that does not mean I let them go without a warning. A little something that would make sure they''d never try to oppose me again. Apparently, they failed to understand this." "I have no idea-" "I did not need to raise a weapon to get rid of them today. I only had to will it, and they went down. But this time? Soluble may not have been able to learn, but I do. If you let someone go once and yet they try to kill you again, letting them go again would be foolish." "So you killed them?" "Weren''t you listening? I never said I did. Quite the contrary." "What..." It finally clicked. He... He couldn''t have. What were the chances he could have access to this kind of power... "They only just woke up. It''s the reason why I came back here in the first place, you just happened to be awake too. I must admit, I did not expect them to choose this form. I thought they''d keep the humanoid form, maybe the transparency too, but you can never predict the results of this sort of work. "How... How did you find a Transformation Aspected weapon?" "Who said anything about the Transformation Aspect? Who said anything about a weapon? But if you are curious, maybe you''d like to go through the same procedure?" He couldn''t be serious. Surely- "Soluble. Come on in." The second shadowy creature approached the cell and tried to get in. While its body flawlessly entered, casually slipping and reforming over the bars, a black skeleton inside got caught on them, lagging behind the movements of the main body as the bones rattled and rearranged themselves until finally, the skeleton passed, joining back with the main mass. "Oh, their skeleton is still inside. Good to know." Grover simply stared at the unmoving abomination as it just stood there after his horrifying entrance. "Now, I''m curious. Soluble, talk." "Yes, master." "Soluble, say what you have on your mind." "I obey, master." "Soluble, tell me something Grover and you should know that I couldn''t." "Guy has a scar on his forehead. He wears a hat to hide it. I never saw it until his hat fell when we met with Grover for the first time." "Thank you, Soluble. Is that name still appropriate? Uhm, I do not think so. And you, Soluble?" "I am whatever you wish." "Good. It''ll be Solvent from now on." "Understood, master. "As you can see, Grover, in case you wish to keep on lying or try to remain silent, I have alternative means to learn what you know. So. Talk." "My boss sent me to scout things out. Guy didn''t take Soluble''s story too seriously, but he still passed the word. One of my boss'' men heard it and convinced his superior to bring it up to the boss. He thought there was potential in the mysterious creature if the story was true, and he chose to finance Guy''s little team on the condition I got to choose the men. I chose a couple trustworthy to hire people while downplaying the reward offered." "Why?" "That way, only disposable people would come, but enough to reassure Guy and Soluble. They wouldn''t suspect a thing." "I see." "Then, I was supposed to lead the assault down here while letting Soluble think they''re the leader. I would slowly get rid of the useless team, use the orc, the shark, and the slime to weaken you if the regular men weren''t enough, and then get rid of all of them to save you. You would have realized the dangers of working alone and would have joined us willingly, hopefully. Or then I''d have to force you to obey." "A critical failure, if I may say so. The fact you thought threatening me into submission should be your first approach tells me all I need to know about your boss. Well, no. I need his name. His description. His powers. His weaknesses. His relations." "Threatening you was the second option-" "Barging into my home with armed forces is a threat. Now, answer my questions." "I don''t know much-" "I hope for you that you are mistaken because if I''m not satisfied with what you have to say, I still have another alternative." "I... I told you I would talk..."
Somewhere between the center of the slums and the Black Block, in one of the few buildings in relatively good condition, a five-stories tall building of lightly cracked grey cement, a man sat in his red leather seat. From his open office at the top of the building, exposed to the light of the sun, he watched over the slums. His black business suit looked odd compared to the state of decay in this part of Zalcien, but he didn''t care. The slums were only a step for him, after all. He began to scratch his grey beard as he let his pale blue eyes roam over everything around him. His long equally grey hair fluttered in the breeze, exposing his pointed ears. He heard the steps of someone running up the stairs to reach the building''s roof - his office - and soon enough a large figure in heavy plate armor kicked open the door to the main building and jogged to his desk, panting as they delicately put the tray they were carrying down and began to serve tea. "You''re almost late, Karadok." "I am incredibly sorry, mister Runar." "I do not mind. This is only tea, after all." The elf stared directly into the knight''s eyes despite the visor he was wearing. "I hope this lateness is only when tea matters are involved, however. It wouldn''t do to fail an operation because you have been slacking on your training." "O-Of course mister Runar!" "Good." The elf picked up his teacup and took a sip of its content. "Satisfying. You''re free to go." "Thank you, sir." The orc let out a sigh of relief before he walked back to the stairs. "Oh, Karadok, one more thing." "Yes, sir?" "Is there any news of Grover? I believe his mission to collect that bizarre creature was today." "No, sir. But it''s not surprising, hunts such as this one can sometimes take weeks." "Yes, you are correct. I was simply curious. Go along now." As soon as the knight had left, the elf rose from his seat and approached the edge of the roof. He stared down to the ground, his hands behind his back, and waited. Soon enough a gunshot roared, a bullet stopping mere centimeters from the elf''s forehead, stretching the fabric of the blue shield encompassing the entirety of his office. He scoffed and with a wave of his hand the bullet went back to the sniper who had shot it, hidden in one of the surrounding abandoned houses, and lodged itself deep inside her brain. After the bullet left the shield went back to normal, perfectly invisible. The man took one more sip of his tea. "I wonder what Abrak is doing..." Chapter 51 : Electric After a long day of reparations, cleaning, and discussions with his new employees and his prisoner, James returned to his personal room in the private section of the lair, still separated from the main part where the main entrance, the war room, the jail, the storage, and the workshop were situated. As soon as he stood in the middle of the room, he collapsed into a black puddle. The last twenty-four hours had been horribly stressful and letting himself go did wonders for him. Turning into a liquid was an awfully relaxing experience. So he sat there, as a puddle, his mind free of thoughts. "Dad? Are you alright?" "Oh, hello Foudre." "You... Aren''t looking quite as solid as usual." "Oh, don''t worry. It''s all perfectly normal." "Dad, I am a talking rat and you are a shadow person thingy. Nothing here is normal." "Exactly, so this is perfectly normal." "You didn''t tell me you were alright." "I did not? How curious." "Dad." James sighed as he began to reform, putting his back against the wall as he created a tentacle to pat his lap, inviting the rat to climb on. She obliged, taking care not to use her claws too much even though simple physical contact wasn''t enough to harm him. He appreciated it. "I''m sorry, it''s just...It''s been a really long day." "Yeah, we noticed." The two stayed there in silence, James lightly petting and stroking Foudre''s back with a tentacle. "David is still mad you didn''t let us join Mischief earlier." "I''m not surprised." "Lucille''s also annoyed." "Really? I thought she would have agreed with me." "I think she feels like you don''t acknowledge our efforts. We spent days training and in the end the ones who get to see some action are the strangers you found." "It was too dangerous." "We fought before." "I know you can handle animals. But people? It''s not the same thing. They even had some big guys." "Cored?" "I think. I''m not familiar with every sapient species in Zalcien and I don''t have the will to..." "Dissect them?" "I guess." "How many?" "Eight. But those that Mischief got..." "Hey, it was them or us." "That''s easy to say on the spot. But now? After meeting those that could surrender? I''m sure most of them would have given up if I had asked them." "You can''t be nice to people who try to kill you." "How would you know, Foudre. You never lived with people." "Yeah. But that''s what you said when we asked you." "That does sound like something I''d try to teach you. But wouldn''t Captain Cyan be mad at me?" "Captain Cyan would never be mad at someone who wants to protect others. Only disappointed." "You know, that''s not that much better." "Dad, you''re not Captain Cyan." "Don''t you want me to be?" "No. I just want you to be my dad." "I... Thank you, Foudre." A new tentacle formed from the one he was petting her back with and began to scratch her chin and behind her ears. "You''re still not ok." "No, I''m not." "Is it still about killing people?" "Yes." "But we just-" "Foudre, I love you, but healing psychological damage takes more than a few words, no matter how well-meaning." "But do you-" "No matter how justified it may be, killing someone is still... Taxing, mentally. And it''s not just that. You should see Soluble. Whatever infusion did to them, it''s not the same person anymore. Barely a husk of themself. After what happened to me and what I know of this world, I know people who die here have a soul that goes somewhere. But what happened to Soluble? I don''t know if it affected their soul. I''m terrified it did." "I don''t see how that''s such a big deal." "Foudre, someone''s soul is... It''s them. Altering a soul is changing someone permanently. Erasing their old self. It''s like... It''d be like if Goliath suddenly lost his kindness, Lucille her seriousness, or David his horrible attitude. It wouldn''t be them anymore." "Don''t people change all the time?" The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. "Yes, but it''s a slow thing. A natural process. It''s the result of themself and their environment. Like a tree that grows. Infusion? It''s overwriting everything else. It''s cutting down the tree and replacing it with a statue." "If you don''t like it, then why did you do it?" "Because..." Was it curiosity? He had wanted to know what a complete infusion would be like on an unwilling subject. But doing it to a person? He didn''t feel comfortable with the idea that it could be what pushed him to do it. Was it a form of vengeance? He had let Soluble go away and yet they had insisted on threatening his family. But again, was that it? Was anger alone what motivated him to do such an act? There was also the possibility he just didn''t have the guts to kill someone who couldn''t do anything against him, but he already feared infusion could do something like that. No, that wasn''t it... It took a few seconds for James to find the right words, ones he would be truly happy with. "It felt right. Somehow. It was the most logical choice." "You sure? You sound a little confused." "Because I am, Foudre. I didn''t think I''d ever have the power let alone the will to permanently scar someone on a spiritual level, and now that everything''s over and there''s no more big threat to keep my mind occupied, it''s all just crashing down at once." "So it''s gonna take some time?" "Yeah. I think it will." "Do you want me to go fetch the others to make a big cuddle pile?" "I''d appreciate it, Foudre. Thank you." "No problem dad." After James watched her scamper off to find her siblings, once he was alone in the room... He realized it was the first time he ever felt cold in this world.
When Sam woke up in the little room his boss had prepared for him, his body was assaulted by pain. Unsurprisingly, it took more than a week for burns to heal, especially with no medication of any sort besides basic bandages. He should really have a discussion with his employer about that... And what had happened to the melted remains of his Techlord armor, as well as his skin. After he had informed his ragtag band of misfits that an armed force planned to invade the place, Silhouette had given each of them some orders. The rats were to train, for some reason, the other rats - for some reason there was a distinction between the small ones and the others - were to look for food in case they would have to stay in the lair for a while. Siege tactics weren''t unheard of, but it was still slightly paranoid behavior in Sam''s opinion. Barry and Larry were supposed to go buy everything Sam asked them to get some good tools and establish some proper defenses, but unsurprisingly "a few days" wasn''t enough time to get everything Sam wanted and build the best he could do. He was already thankful the duo had actually returned at all and not just ran away with the money like he expected any other sensible person would have. In the end, Sam had managed to get his hands on some satisfactory tools, and once his boss had done his infusion stuff they had been improved beyond his expectations. They had become sturdier, all of the imperfections, dents, and other damages they used to have had been repaired and the blowtorch even had gained infinite fuel. Somehow. Though the black flame felt kind of weird. With his newly improved tools, Sam had only had the time and resources to make a new electrogun that Silhouette had immediately claimed for himself and some spikes. Not even electrified spikes, just regular ones. Barry and Larry hadn''t found all of the things he needed for his more complex contraptions, although they had brought more Everlanterns to help make navigating the lair easier, and despite his best efforts, Sam''s attempt at a shock trap failed tremendously. It appeared shadow-infused batteries, despite their effectiveness, weren''t quite enough for what he wanted them to do. It didn''t help that they only had half a dozen of them, batteries didn''t last long on the Black Block after all. It didn''t help that Sam had absolutely no idea how to build actual defenses. His expertise was in producing weapons and gadgets, not home improvements. As he had already said, he was no electrician. He had always relied on his armor and emergency weaponry whenever someone had tried to break into his home in the Junkland and or his base near the Black Block, he always kept everything of value specifically for these types of scenarios. It had sadly backfired with his encounter with Sunburn- The fire. Ever burning. A merciless flame of destruction. -but what could he do, what was done was done. After putting on some clothes, Sam went to check on his latest experiment. After the raid had been over, his boss had come by and dropped some random junk, stuff that belonged to the leader of their little invasion group. Sam had looked it over, disassembled and reassembled everything, and confirmed it was just random junk. No secret bomb or communicating device. That had been disappointing. But with all of the dead thugs he had been able to pick everything usable they had, including a lot of flashlights. Since Silhouette''s whole shtick was darkness and shadows, would light be effective against him and his creations? Sam liked his boss and had no plans to betray him, but knowing his weaknesses would help them all in future plans. It would be a very bad thing if in the middle of a fight his weapons failed because his opponent had a literal bright idea, after all. Of course, Sam only had access to the weak artificial light of flashlights, and he knew his boss withstood the rays of the sun on multiple occasions, but maybe he could figure something out. Hence, his experiment. If it could be called that. He had placed a bunch of flashlights to light up different infused items. One per item. Some flashlights had infused batteries, others had regular ones, and the collection of infused objects included a newly infused electrogun, a shadow-infused battery, some black stone, some infused meat from a fish the rats had caught - with only this specific slice of meat being infused - some strings and overall anything that Silhouette could infuse and wasn''t irreplaceable. At a glance, it appeared nothing had changed. Every infused item was just as infused as before and the flashlights with regular batteries were now flickering. And yet, there was one thing that caught Sam''s eye. The two infused batteries that had been exposed to light, no matter the battery of the flashlight, seemed a little... duller. Sam carefully picked them up and studied them a little closer. He removed the infused battery from one of the flashlights and compared it to the other two, squinting his eyes to be sure it wasn''t only his somewhat sleepy mind or the odd decor that fooled his sight. Infused batteries turned into battery-shaped black crystals for some reason, but they were effectively still batteries if you ignored the seemingly infinite power they could supply, with a positive and a negative side. If something changed about their looks, it could be incredibly bad news. Now sure that the two exposed batteries were indeed grayer and duller than their counterparts, Sam did something that many others would have considered stupid. He put one of the gray batteries in the batteryless flashlight and turned it on. It began to emit light, but it was flickering. Before he knew it Sam was running to his boss'' room and barely paused when he found the shadowy man covered by a pile of sleeping baby rats. "Boss." "Sam. Please try not to wake up the little ones, they need their sleep." "Uh, sure. But I just figured something out." "Oh?" "Your batteries. They ain''t infinite." "The laws of physics were not completely ignored, then. Good to know." "Look, I exposed them to light and they lost their energy. Do you know what that means?" "That we should not expose our batteries to light in the future?" "Yes, but I think I know why." "Go ahead then." "So, when exposed to light they lose power, alright?" "Yes, you made that abundantly clear." "But usually they never lose power." "Again, I know that." "I think your batteries get charged by darkness." "What about the Everlanterns? Shouldn''t they lose power around those too?" "I''m no expert in magic, but I think the black flame in your lanterns aren''t actually emitting light, hence why it doesn''t affect the batteries." "This... Changes a lot of things. But no matter, we have another topic to discuss." "Yes?" "I hired a lot of people recently, and I think it might be time we figure out something to make some money. My reserve funds aren''t infinite." "Sure. Any particular idea in mind?" "Something any slum-dweller would find useful, but wouldn''t be dangerous against us." "I could try to make more electroguns, and a device to charge regular batteries with your infused ones? People could exchange their used batteries for new ones and we wouldn''t lose anything." "Is there any risk of this plan backfiring?" "Of course. When isn''t there?" "Fine. Try to make us some anti-electricity shields to protect us from them and then go ahead and proceed." "You got it, boss." As Sam walked back to his lab, an idea passed his mind. What would an infused electroshield be like? Chapter 52 : Back to the Block The Black Block was as active as ever. As soon as the sun was in the sky people left their hideouts and shelters to come here to buy, barter, sell and steal, sometimes in that order. The countless stalls that occupied the Block had been set up in a blink of an eye and it didn''t take long for the great dance of the slum-dwellers to begin. But the stalls weren''t the only ones on the Block, for shop owners were just as determined to make a living. One such case was the quaint little bakery known as Pete''s, owned by the titular baker and occasional vigilante Sweet Pete. Although, due to his justice-seeking hobby, the shop was usually managed by his wife, the lovely small wrinkly extraterrestrial telepathic floating grey three-eyed squid with crystalline growths and incredibly long tentacles using portals, Maltodextrin. Said alien squid was currently happily getting the bakery ready for the day, sweeping dust with a tentacle, reorganizing the pastries with another, and feeling away at the minds of passersby to estimate how many customers she should expect in the coming hour. Some might say it was an invasion of privacy, she''d argue that it was a common tactic on her planet and that Terra Stellis'' corporations were doing it too, just via less psychic means. She never managed to trust Terran technology. What good were machines that could be hacked when you could use shapeshifting psychic sponges that loved having a symbiotic relationship with their owners and were fiercely loyal? Pete had never gotten hooked on the concept sadly, but he didn''t mind letting her use her lovely Squishy, the bestest sponge of them all. Thinking about her furniture pet was enough for the pair of tentacles dedicated to petting it throughout the day to give it a treat. It wasn''t like it could get fat, after all. She felt an odd yet familiar mind approach the bakery. From the way it was moving it was clearly coming here, yet she had difficulties reading its thoughts. This wasn''t that rare, there were more humans with light psychic abilities or resistances than the species gave itself credit for, but this one was unusual. Psychic energy, depending on who you asked, was either a neutral affinity or an affinity of its own, though others thought it was the result of the combination of the Mind and Will Aspects. Maltodextrin had been raised with the notion of it being the latter, and everything life had sent her so far had always confirmed her beliefs. What was odd about this mind was the fact that it wasn''t psychic energy shielding it, but something else entirely. Oh, there was some psychic force in the mix, and mixing psychic energy with another affinity wasn''t unheard of, but doing so passively as a shield? Odd, truly odd. It wasn''t long before a black humanoid entity wearing old clothes entered the bakery, getting lost in the smell of pastries. The young man she had met for the first time not so long ago, but his mind was less defended then. There had still been a shield, but a weaker one. To compare his mind from the day she met him to now, it would be like the difference between a shed and an apartment, both were small in the grand scheme of things, but one was clearly better than the other. But there was something else at play here, something new besides the odd elemental energy. Something sadly common in the slums, an instinctual mental shield created in sapients to protect themselves... After they had killed another sapient. "Hello miss Maltodextrin!" Despite the new additions to his mind, the young man seemed much the same as last time. Still nice and friendly, and slightly lost in the world of the slums. "Ouh, hello to you too James!" "You remember me?" "Ouh, I never forget people, sweetie. It''s really helpful when dealing with unruly customers!" "Eh, I can see how." "Ouh, but enough about me. How may I help you, sweetie? Ouh! I do hope those rodent friends of yours liked the pastries from last time!" "Oh, they loved it. Thank you again for your suggestions, they were on point." "Ouhouhouh, I have a knack for it!" "But, as for what I want... You wouldn''t happen to know if there''s a shop for sale around?" "Ouuuh, why do you ask?" "Well, I... Some people I know want to start selling stuff, and I thought you might have an idea on how to best do it." Odd. From what little of his mind she could feel, she could tell he was telling the truth, but purposefully hiding something. "Ouh, I see. What sort of people and what do they wish to sell?" "Good people, I''m sure of it. They''re going to sell some basic appliances, maybe some self-defense gadgets, and something about batteries? I''m not quite sure what they have planned exactly." "Ouh, and you''re certain that is all?" "For now. No drugs, if that''s what you were asking." "Ouh. Well, I do not think any of the shop owners wish to retire. Have they considered opening a stall instead?" "They don''t feel safe with a stall. Too many things that could go wrong." "Ouh, and?" "Annnd they might also have a bad reputation from the times they sold junk in the streets. They were hoping a shop would make things more official and let people forget about that." "Ouh, ouh indeed. You wouldn''t happen to know their names, sweetie?" "I was kinda hoping that-" Stolen novel; please report. "Ouh, sweetie. I know you want to keep things secret, but you must understand that I can''t trust mysterious nameless people just because you said they were nice." "... Fine... Have you ever heard of Larry and Barry?" "Ouh! Barry and Larry? Those two are the ones who want to open a shop?" "Yeah..." "Ouh... I don''t know what to tell you..." Maltodextrin knew the troublesome duo oh too well, she and Pete had practically seen the two brothers grow up. She knew deep down they were good kids, but saying they had a bad reputation on the Black Block was an understatement. Oh, they weren''t infamous, they were far too banal for that, but those that did know them knew better than to trust anything they were selling. They at least had the decency to keep their immoral behavior to their sellers and never tried to steal or barter, but still. Maltodextrin remembered the time they had sold her friend Sofia some kind of toaster that ended up burning her house down after the third use. Granted, Sofia lived in a wooden shed with a bunch of holes in the roof and the malfunction occurred just after a heavy rain, but still. One more reason not to trust machines. "I promise they''re trying to turn over a new leaf. No more scams." "Ouh... What about Soluble and their friends? Aren''t Barry and Larry afraid they''re going to come after them?" The relationship between those five had always been strange. Jeffrey and Larry would have had no problem becoming friends had it not been for the rest, and frankly Barry, Soluble, and Mark were more similar than any of them would have been comfortable admitting. Really, under any other circumstances, she was certain they would have become a great friend group. And instead... Instead, they just spent all their time bickering, running, and screaming. What a waste. "I... I think they get along now? From what I''ve understood Mark and Jeffrey will help in the shop business, at least I think?" "Ouh?" What a surprising development. Things were getting really interesting now. "Yeah..." "Ouhouhouh... I''m curious as to how this happened, considering their history... Perchance, you wouldn''t know anything about it, sweetie?" "...Maybe..." "Ouh ouh?" "Do you promise to help with the shop thing if I tell you?" "Ouh, of course! I''ve known these little rascals for two decades, if they''re really trying to all get along and become better people, who am I to disagree?" "I... I heard they all began working for the same person recently." Barry and Larry had talked about a new employer the last time she saw them, now that she thought about it. Well, Larry had, Barry kept trying to silence his talkative brother in vain. She had been surprised at the time but hadn''t thought much of it, it would be the first time the two worked for someone but it was doomed to happen. They were both Coreless as far as she knew, and the sons of a dwarf and elf pairing were not the greatest in terms of affinities and Aspects, and neither races were very popular in the slums. Frankly, she was surprised it had taken this long. Soluble on the other hand? That one had a big ego and a horrible temper. For them to obey someone... "Ouh, and I suppose you don''t want to tell me their name?" "If I can help it." "Ouh, I understand. I''ll look into it, I can think of some buildings that could be sold. It won''t be cheap, though." "I think they''ll manage. Thank you, miss Maltodextrin." "Ouh, don''t you worry your little head sweetheart, it''s my pleasure. Say, maybe you''d like another batch of pastries for your friends?" "Oh, I guess it would be nice... I think I might need to take some more, though." "Ouh?" "What do Barry and Larry like? And Mark and Jeffrey?" "Ouh, what about Soluble?" "I... I don''t think they''d be interested in pastries right now." "Ouh, I see. Anything else?" "Uh... Do you have a suggestion for an edgy teen obsessed with technology and six airheaded adults?" "Ouh, do I!"
The Black Block was a place of constant activity, but the same couldn''t be said for every building in the surroundings. Like in Doctor Drake''s clinic, which as usual was dead silent. One who would think a clinic in the slums would be constantly visited by the locals due to the unsanitary and dangerous area it was situated in, medical emergencies happening quite often, but alas it was not the case. Despite the good doctor''s best attempts at imitating the white sanitized clinics of the main city, with large green plants in pots to make the place more hospitable and medical posters to keep the patients who waited occupied and informed, few ever came to visit her. It didn''t help that the most famous medical practitioner in the area was The Patcher, which gave most of the slum-dwellers a reasonable fear of doctors. Most preferred to stick to their local healers, usually old shamans or apprentices of said shamans, people good enough to do their job but not enough to make a living in the main city or even to create a monopoly in healing in the slums. Well, the gangs had their healers, whether they used magic or science, but those didn''t count. The fact medical equipment and medication cost a fortune and few had the money to pay for her services made things worse for the poor doctor, but she had already lowered her costs as much as she could. She couldn''t help people for free, after all. she still needed money to live and keep everything prepared. The final nail in the coffin was probably the good doctor herself. She was good at her job, but... What was the best way to put it... The doors to the clinic opened, and in walked a strange black humanoid creature wearing used clothes. "Excuse me, is this- whoa." Even though it didn''t have eyes she could feel its gaze on her. Her clothes were impeccable, with a white coat, a white blouse, and a brown pair of pants, but that wasn''t what caught everyone''s gaze. Her scaled and feathered body did. The odd result of a dragonkin and a duckman falling in love, she had a small yet toned frame, only reaching up to the average man''s chest, with a neck that was slightly too long and whose upper green and lower brown sections were separated by a white band, a yellow-billed mouth and a draconic crown of four white twisting horns on her green head. Her skin was covered by thick scaly plates between which emerged feathers except on her legs and palmed feet, the colors always matching those you''d find on a regular duck. Luckily for the doctor, her mother''s draconic genes gave her arms instead of her father''s wings, the limbs having made his life incredibly troublesome. The arms were just as scaled and feathered as the rest of her, but her hands were quite similar to her feet, only covered with orange scales and palmed. Similarly, she was thankful for her horns, since they gave her a place to put her glasses since she lacked any form of external structure around her ears, their perfectly round shapes matching well with her round dark brown eyes were it not for the small orange slit iris in the middle. All in all, she was a chimeric abomination that scared away more patients than an orc nurse would. And she knew that for a fact since she had worked with one before opening her clinic. "Yes, I''m very weird, but please let''s ignore that. What can I do for you?" "I... Uh... Sorry. I wanted to know if I could make an appointment?" "I''m free right now, you know?" "Oh, it''s not for me. The patient isn''t available right now." "Oh, fine. What''s the issue?" "He may have burned?" "Which race or species, where, how badly, how long, and with what kind of fire?" "Human, everywhere, very bad, about a week ago but he was trapped in the fire for a few minutes, and... Uh..." "I need to know what happened to help him. Some Aspects and affinities can have lasting consequences if they''re not treated right." "It may have been Sunburn?" Doctor Drake rose from her seat, the one that should have been occupied by a secretary had her clinic been successful, and in a blink of an eye, both of her orange scaled hands were placed on the shadowy humanoid''s shoulders. "Go fetch them. NOW." Chapter 53 : Doctor Drakes diagnostic One hour later and the strange pitch-black humanoid was back at the clinic with a friend in tow. Doctor Drake couldn''t see much with all of the bandages and the clothes over those, but it appeared her patient would be a regular human or at least something pretty close. Good, their biology and anatomy were among the most universal and understandable ones in sapients, she wouldn''t have to worry about only feeling the pulse of a single heart when there should be five or something of the sort. The duck and drake woman hybrid finished putting on her latex gloves over her scaly hands, with a custom addition of a thicker area around the tips to be sure her claws wouldn''t pierce or cut through. She always made sure to keep them smooth, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "Greetings, I''m doctor Beatrice Drake. I will be taking care of you and will help you to the best of my capacities. May I ask for a name?" "Uh... Techlord." "Techlord, then. I need you to describe the way you were hurt with as many details as you can while we go to the examination room. Everything matters. Do you want your companion to come with us?" The bandaged teen turned to the shadowy one who simply shook his head. "No, I''ll be fine." "Very well." She began to walk, her custom palmed white shoes lightly flapping the ground as she walked. She never could get entirely rid of the sound, but she did her best. She discreetly looked over her shoulder to make sure the teen was following her and not running away, as well as to check on the black humanoid, in case he had the funny idea to try and steal anything. It wouldn''t be the first time someone tried something of the sort. But... They didn''t have that sort of feeling about them. She knew better than to trust something as illogical as instincts, though. "From what your friend told me, this occurred around a week ago?" "Uh, yeah. Just to be sure, do you have the whole secrecy thing here too?" "Yes. Patients need to trust their doctors, especially in these parts." "I tried to be a vigilante, built a mech, saved a couple of guys from... I think they called those things Patchees?" "Yes, those... Abominable creatures are named after their maker, The Patcher. Were you hurt at any point in this encounter?" "No. Well, sometime before that I had been beaten up by some weird guys wearing leather and led by some witch named Rose, but everything had healed by that point." "No bruises?" "They had gone away by that point. I was wearing homemade armor. Technological stuff, not plates or anything of the sort." "Here we are." She gestured with one of her hands to an open doorway, leading to a small room with a medical bed in the center, covered with thin white sheets. "No door?" "There used to be one before a patient felt trapped and needed to go out. It wasn''t worth replacing." "Oh." He entered and she followed, and she was thankful to see he immediately went to sit on the bed without her prompting him to do so. "First, I need to know how much of your body has been burned." "I... I think everything? I''m not sure, it''s not like I could see it." "You didn''t feel it?" "I felt it alright, but not for long. It was so... It was too much. I lost consciousness and by the time I woke up I already got the mummy treatment." "I need you to remove your clothes. I have to check everything." "Everything?" "You may keep your underwear for now, if that''s what you''re worried about. But everything else has to go." The teen stayed silent for a few moments before he began to disrobe. Doctor Drake turned around and left him to it, she might have to examine his body once he was done but there was a difference in a patient''s perception between being examined and removing their clothes, like the difference between being seen in underwear and swimwear. Besides, as he prepared himself she readied a few tools she might need, as well as some antibiotics and electrolytes fluids. "So, you said you dealt with the Patchees with your mech. And after that?" "So, apparently The Patcher had sent someone to get his things back." "Sunburn, from what your friend told me." "Yes. He... He offered me a job with the Angels, I refused, and I think he threw some kind of fireball at me? Everything went so fast I was already hurting all over before I realized it and blacked out." "After that?" "Some guy saw what happened, dragged me out of the mech, brought me to his home and... Uh... Kinda skinned me?" What. "Pardon me?" "He said the plastic and metal of my armor had melted and got stuck on my skin, so he had to remove it. After that, he bandaged me up. He said he put some anti-burn gel he had bought around here before that though." "And he did it a week ago?" Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. "Yes?" "Then either the term ''skinned'' is used too loosely, or you have a high regeneration. The human body is not meant to survive without skin, especially not outside of a clean and controlled environment." "Oh." "Are you in pain?" "A bit? I''m mostly fine, some itches here and there, but overall nothing worse than what a bruise would do." "Listen, burns are no laughing matter. I haven''t seen anything yet, but the fact you haven''t felt hurt since the initial burn is bad news." "Really?" "If you don''t feel pain after getting burned, that means your nerves are damaged, possibly completely destroyed. This is an easy way to identify third-degree burns, which as you may guess are not good." "I... Oh. I''m done, by the way." The doctor turned back to him and honestly wasn''t surprised. She could already see it from the places that weren''t covered by his clothes, but it appeared whoever had done the bandages wasn''t a professional. Not only they didn''t conform to any established technique, but she could also see they were too tight, and the fact he didn''t realize it only furthered her worries. "Good. Now I must warn you, I will have to take your bandages off. It may hurt, so be prepared and focus on restraining any ability or odd organ you may have from reacting. In your case, pain is good." "Uh, sure..." She took out a small ball of cotton and wet it with a blue liquid from one of the flasks she had prepared before she lightly pressed it against the bandages, slowly rubbing it against the white cloth. "Uh..." "I''m getting your bandages ready to be removed properly. Simply pulling on it or making incisions could cause damage." "Ok." "For future reference, the next time someone gets burned to the same degree as you, bring them here directly. Removing clothing or items stuck on the skin is a delicate procedure, one that must be done in the right conditions. I doubt your savior used a bathtub filled with the correct products." "Yeah, I don''t think he did..." "You will also need to get any future bandages done here or have your friend learn the right method. Yours are too tight." "Alright..." Once she was satisfied Drake began to remove them, carefully lifting and pulling at the white cloth while occasionally taking a look at Techlord''s face, to see if he would have any reaction. As she removed more and more bandages, she grew more and more worried. Thankfully she had been correct, the teen hadn''t actually been skinned but she could still see where parts of the dermis, the second layer of skin that housed nerves and was normally protected by the epidermis, had been removed, presumably via cuts judging by how clean the marks were around them. Luckily only a small part of the dermis was missing, but knowing its removal had been done hazardously... Ignoring the matter of the removed skin, the burns were a terrible sight. No fourth-degree burns, nothing that went so far as to the bones or permanently ruin muscle tissue, but that was a meager consolation considering his state. His trunk, arms, and legs were the worst areas, the deep black and red of the burns contrasting with the otherwise light tone of his skin. His face had been mostly spared, his eyebrows were gone but they would grow back, whereas his scalp had been charred. He probably would never have hair again. Between the areas where the epidermis and some dermis had been removed and those that had been burned, she''d estimate that around sixty percent of the teen''s body had been damaged, way over the thirty that many doctors agreed on for things to get likely lethal. As she began to clean out the dead cells in the burns, she talked once more. "I need to ask again, was your savior a medical professional or any sort of healer?" "No, I don''t think so. I mean, there is this one rat that got revitalized, but I don''t think he used that on me?" "I will be honest. The fact you are walking around in your condition is a miracle." "Ah?" "Do you know when it is recommended for a patient to be sent to a clinic specialized in burns rather than a regular hospital?" "No." "When at least ten percent of the body has been burned." "Oh. And I guess I''m over that?" "Six times over, I''d say." "Ah." "Are you a Cored?" "I think? I never took a test, but based on my life..." "Alright, a Cored''s improved metabolism explains how you''ve managed to survive without going to a hospital. That''s still not enough to explain the rest, but I''ll take what I can. I will request a test from the main city to check what you have, just to be sure. Now, I''m going to administer some balms and ointments to your damaged skin, and then I will inject you with some electrolytes. This should have been done much earlier, as in within the initial hour of the incident, but better late than never. After that you will need a diet high in protein and some fat, to replace everything that has been burned away." "That''s, uh... Kinda hard to do around here." "I know, but it''s what''s best for you. Ideally, you should stay here and be under constant surveillance, but I''m guessing you don''t want to and frankly, I''m not equipped for a long-term patient. Instead, you will have to come by every couple of days for a check-up and some more care, alright?" "Uh, sure." "Last but not least, burns don''t magically heal on their own. Even with high regeneration or magic you need something, either your body''s resources or some magical energy. The best thing to do would be skin drafts, ideally of your own skin, but considering the state of your body that seems ill-advised. I don''t suppose you have any lost twin running around somewhere?" "No?" "Too bad. That means we will be limited to temporary skin drafts, and we''ll need a willing donor, maybe a few of them considering how much there is to replace. Do you know any large group of persons who would be open to giving away some of their skin? Animals with high compatibility to humans work too, like pigs." "I... Might know some people. I''ll have to ask first." "Marvellous." Before long doctor Drake had finished, she bandaged up Techlord once more, though with the proper technique he looked less like a mummy and more like an incredibly injured teen who had just fled from the hospital. She removed her latex glove and accompanied him back to the entrance, where the black humanoid waved at them as he saw them approach. "So? What''s your diagnostic doctor?" "It''s a miracle he''s even alive and the fact he can walk in this condition is the only reason why I haven''t sent him to a hospital in the main city." "Oh." "He will need to keep coming here every few days, no excuses." "Alright, ma''am." "He will also need a lot of skin grafts. We''ll need willing donors or lots of pigs." "Uh.. alright? I think we can manage this one." "Last but not least, I believe he''ll need a therapist." "Oh?" "What? You didn''t say anything about that before!" "If you have truly been exposed to Sunburn''s fire, then you''ll need at least a visit. As with all Supers, his exact Aspects are unknown but there is evidence that his flames have some psychological effects." "That''s a thing?" "You sure this isn''t just regular mental scarring?" "Maybe, but even then a visit is in order. You did go through a traumatic event, even if you may not realize it. Don''t forget we''ll also have to test your Aspects and whether you''re Cored or not." The black one seemed to perk up at that. "You can do these tests?" "I need to request them in advance, but yes. Are you interested?" "Is everything kept secret?" "Yes." "Then... I think so." "Very well, I''ll add that to the list. Now, I''m afraid we have to discuss the costs..." "How much?" "For today? 2500 Xerins. After that? I can''t tell yet. What I can tell you is that burn treatments can get incredibly expensive, so it may be more efficient to stick to the strict minimum for now and if things stay stable consider going to a magical healer, as much as it pains me to say so they might have a better chance at fixing you than a skin graft would." "Thank you, doctor." "Yeah, thanks, doc." "No problem." The two walked outside, and it took more time than she was comfortable admitting for her to realize something. "They didn''t pay." It was at this exact moment the black one walked back in. "Sorry, we forgot to pay. Here you go!" He handed her a large wad of cash and left just as quickly as he had come back. She checked the amount quickly and was pleasantly surprised to find everything was there. She did quickly hold each bill in front of the window, letting the light shine through to see if they were real and, once more, she was delighted to see they were. "Finally, paying patients." Chapter 54 : Passage Back in his lair in the sewers, James was digging. The plan was to make a tunnel between his future shop and the main base, hidden from both sides via fake walls. Of course, since he didn''t actually have a shop yet he couldn''t finish the tunnel. The plan for the day was simply to start things up, cover some of the ground between his home and the Black Block, and he''d wait for Maltodextrin to finish things up to continue. He didn''t want his people to have to use the sewers to travel either, so he also had to dig down before he could go back up. The digging itself was surprisingly easy, but he had gotten used to it after his numerous expansions to his little lair. He only had to shape his tentacles into shovels, a couple of drills to weaken areas that were more resistant than the rest, and the greenish-yellow bricks of the sewer walls fell into pieces. Frankly, he thought it was a miracle the entire place hadn''t crumbled down. In his endeavor, he was assisted by his latest group of employees, the Shadow Commando. One of them used a shovel to fill a wheelbarrow with the piles of broken pieces of occasional dirt that were dug to transport them to the storage area while the others enjoyed some donuts, with the sole task of the group being switched around every time a trip was completed. "Oh, I never thought I''d get a boss who bought me something. I think I''m the luckiest thug in Zalcien." "I know those are from Pete''s, but knowing my employer paid for them for us? God, they''re even sweeter." "You''re a monotheist?" "What, you have a problem?" "No, no. It''s just rare, is all. I just felt like everyone here worships the Nine." "Not me, losers. I follow the one and only god-" "Money?" "You''re no fun." "It''s just clich¨¦." "You know there''s a money god among the Nine, right?" "Really?" "Yeah, the Patient Rich." "I''d say we''re more of a ''Chaste Thief'' bunch." "Speak for yourself, boyo." "I''m back guys, who''s next?" "I''d say Steve." "As amusing as your banter is, I must question why you all need to be present. One of you should be enough for this task, considering we only have one wheelbarrow." "Ah, but it wouldn''t be fair for them. We''d all enjoy donuts while they work hard? No sir! It''s all of the Shadow Commando or none of us." "You still have to go, Steve." "Yeah yeah. Give me that shovel." "Atta boy. Anyway boss, I was curious about our long-term goals. Like, I know right now the plan is for a shop to get some money, but after that? What''s the main objective?" "I want to make a safe haven. A place where people won''t have to worry about monsters or Villains. A place for those who only seek to live in peace." "So, we''re going down the Vigilante path?" "In a way, I suppose. Though I have no interest in ridding the world of evil, this task goes to those who deserve it. I only want-" "To make a safe space. No going out of your way to beat up bad guys, just keeping them out of your place. Makes sense." "Sounds way less tiring than actual Hero work." "Guys, maybe avoid cutting off the boss?" "Oh, sorry sir." "I do not mind, though pay attention next time." "Thank you, boss." "Say boss, why do you do the digging yourself? That''s usually more of a minion''s work." "Because I doubt any of you have the ability to tear through materials the way I do. Not without costly tools, at least." "I know a mole guy if you want." "Thank you, but I don''t plan on hiring any more people for the time being." As James swung his modified tentacles once more, something odd happened. Instead of only hitting more weak bricks and dirt, he hit the air. Despite deliberately avoiding the level of the sewer tunnels, he had found an open space. Some sort of hallway, similar to those occasional strange offshoots that he sometimes found in the tunnels, leading away from the canals. Dusty and dry hallways that went nowhere, which didn''t make sense in any sort of infrastructure. But why was one of them here? Where did it go? Had James accidentally found some Villain''s secret tunnel? Behind him, up the stairs he had made to go down his new passage, his men sensed the shift in the mood. "Everyone, forget the wheelbarrow. Be on guard and make sure nothing comes out of this without my say-so." "How will we know it''s you?" "I will talk about your donuts, but not offer any more of them." The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "That''s... A weird choice of secret code." "Which is why no one would think of it. Love it, boss!" "Do we shoot first or?" "Tell them not to move, try to see if they''re willing to talk, but make sure no matter what they don''t exit the tunnel. And be prepared for them not to negotiate. Not everyone is as merciful as I was." "We got it, boss." James entered the hallway, leaving a much more serious and attentive Shadow Commando behind him as he began to listen closely. No steps, no slithering, no driving, no talking, no singing, nothing, it appeared the hallway was empty. Hopefully, that meant no one used it and he wouldn''t have to worry about having accidentally opened his lair to a popular road. He quickly turned into his more normal humanoid form, shaping his body so that the clothes inside of himself would be on his body once he was done, a nice little trick he had practiced before going to the Black Block to see Maltodextrin. It wasn''t as impressive as the way he could now extend his body much farther than he used to, but it helped him gain a lot of time. There was something odd about the hallway, though. He could feel a light breeze coming from the right side. He chose to go the opposite way first, wind implied an open space and it would take longer to explore than what he hoped was a dead end. A few minutes later and he reached his destination and, just as he wished for, this part of the hallway ended in a flat wall. Well, not exactly. There was a ladder carved into the wall, though there was no opening on the ceiling or ground for it to lead anywhere. Just to be sure he stomped with his feet before climbing up, but again, nothing moved or seemed designed to move. Of course, with his personal experience hiding entrances, he knew making fake walls was a possibility so he took the time to knock on every surface and let a tendril run over everything, in case there was some sort of hidden button or lever. Still, everything seemed to confirm this was a dead end. How odd. He backtracked to go to the other end, passing by his Shadow Commando on the way. "Stop! Who goes there?" "Freeze or we''ll shoot!" "It''s me, your donut-giving boss. No bonuses in sight though." "Oh, sorry boss." "I tasked you with guard duty, if anything I''m relieved to see you are taking this seriously. Nothing on the left, by the way. Just a ladder, no opening." "Uh, weird." "Maybe they ran out of time? Or forgot to put the holes?" "That seems highly unlikely." "Not impossible, though!" "An irrefutable argument. I''ll be going, then. I think this next area might be bigger, so it could take more time. Tell the ratlings not to worry, and make sure they don''t come rushing after me. If this area is dangerous enough to keep me occupied, they have no chance there." "We got it, boss!" "Uh, how do we keep the little ones in check? Like, I don''t think they''d listen to us." "Aren''t they technically our superior?" "When did that happen?" "I thought the hierarchy went Silhouette, ratlings, Polisson, Barry and Larry and Techlord, Mischief, us, and then Mark and Jeffrey?" "You forgot Solvent!" "I don''t think they fit in. They''re more like a drone than a person." "You sure about your order? Wouldn''t the little rats be under Polisson?" "No, I saw them give him orders." "Aren''t we above the rats?" "Well, have you given them any orders?" "Uh." James sighed as he watched his guards. "Everyone. Please." Their banter ended at once as they focused on him. "For now, ignore the hierarchy." "But boss, without it everything will be naught but chaos!" "Fine. Then Polisson is the boss while I''m not around, followed by Techlord. The rest has no reason to be involved in the hierarchy since they''re doing their own thing. Is that alright with everybody?" ""Yes sir!"" "Good. Now if you''ll excuse me, I have somewhere to go." James resumed his march, quickly leaving his men far away behind him. I get why they want to know who''s in charge of who, but can''t they see it''s not the time? Considering their track record, they probably don''t. His light steps echoed against the stone floor, the sole sound in the ambient silence. He could appreciate the atmosphere it set, he had employed the same method in his raid defense, but his ego told him the black bricks led to a more impressive effect than the sewers'' regular ones - though, given the fact this area had been isolated from the main canals, the bricks here weren''t a yellowish-green but instead a light grey. It was a nice change of space, a more quaint look, relatively speaking of course. This trip proved much longer than the first one, even without taking into account the backtracking. The minutes went by and James had to admit he was growing worried about the length of the hallway. Why would it need to cover so much distance, especially since it was a dead-end? Hopefully, there wouldn''t be more openings further down the line. Having a road going through your house was already bad news, if there were more attached to it on top of that... Finally, he saw something in the distance. A single exit, one that apparently led to a canal tunnel somehow. What was even odder was the fact that this tunnel was on the larger side of things, and since he had been going in a straight line with no change of elevation since his initial descent that meant there was an entire canal system right below the first one. James was no expert in sewer systems, so maybe it was normal, but the fact there was another level to the sewer system despite the tunnels always being so big was really odd. He had already gotten over the fact that Zalcien''s sewers were monstrosities that would never have been made on Earth, the closest thing he knew of being Paris'' ones and they didn''t hold a candle to the place he called home, but this went even further. As he got to approach the tunnel, James was very thankful for his odd way of sensing things, how he perceived everything in a sort of bubble around him, because otherwise his eyes - if he still had them - would have bulged out. This wasn''t a mere giant canal tunnel, no. It was way more than that. Even the term canal wasn''t exactly appropriate. The place he entered was large enough to house what could only be described as a sewage lake, or maybe a pond, he wasn''t sure of the exact difference between the two. What he knew was that the perfectly circular body of dirty gold water had to be hundreds of meters long, though he couldn''t make any accurate measurements from where he was standing. A waterfall of sewage fell from the level above directly into the center of the lake, making him wonder how the tunnels he usually roamed could still have water and how this thing hadn''t spilled over. Things swam beneath the surface, ridged back and threatening fins emerging from time to time. Not to say there was no canal, on the contrary. Dozens of water pathways left the central point and went everywhere, returning to regular tunnels that led away from the lake room. He could see more openings on some of the walls, though it appeared they were spaced far away from each other. Hopefully, that meant no one would use his. A bizarre sight approached him as he stood there, observing the lake room. What could only be described as a stereotypical old Australian woman outback hunter like some sort of aged up gender-bent version of Crocodile Dundee, rowing forth a wooden bark lit up by two pairs of lanterns suspended on each end of the embarkation. Now that he thought about it, the boat looked more like the lovechild of a Drakkar and a canoe than a regular rowing boat. The woman, who had to be in her sixties or seventies, stared uncaringly at him as she rowed with her single long oar, her necklace of monstrous teeth clicking on her leather vest. The light of the lanterns didn''t light up her face all that much due to her hat, and James had no idea why she would bother wearing the thing aside from the aesthetic since there was no sun underground. At least as far as he knew. She stopped her boat right in front of him and kept on staring. "What are you waitin'' for? Get on, I don''t have all day." "Will it be safe for the hallway? I don''t want anyone to go in while I''m not here." "Meh, no one cares about your secret entrance, everyone has their own. Haven''t you learned this by now?" "I actually have no idea of what''s happening here, ma''am." Her eyes widened at that. "Oh, you''re a newbie." She appeared to think for a few seconds, rubbing her chin with the hand that wasn''t holding the oar, letting James see the numerous scars covering her pale skin. "Climb on. I''ll explain on the way." For some reason, James jumped on her boat. Chapter 55 : The ferrywoman James sat down at the bench opposite the elderly Australian stereotype, curiously examining the old woman. He had already noticed the leather clothes and tooth necklace and bracelets, as well as the scars that seemed to come from a mix of beast claws and fangs and human-made blades, but it wasn''t her appearance that intrigued him. She was remarkably calm and didn''t seem bothered by his odd body. She hadn''t waited for him to sit down to start rowing once more, standing tall despite the bench right behind. She held the oar that had to be longer than she was tall with a single arm and moved it nonchalantly, uncaring of its weight. Her free arm quickly reached into her vest when her fingers tightly gripped onto a metal flask, she quickly drank a mouthful of the liquid James assumed was some sort of alcohol or water - he had rarely seen anything else being put in this sort of flask - before she put it back in place, her rowing undisturbed through it all. She cleared her throat before addressing James. "So, kid. What''s your name?" "James, ma''am." "James, do you know where you are?" "The sewers? Beneath the slums? Around the Black Block." "You ain''t wrong, but that''s not what I meant. This, kid, is what we falk of the beneath call the Sewage Network. It ain''t pretty, it smells like hell, but it''s efficient and hidden. I''m a ferrywoman, we folks bring people from one place to another. Usually one of them is the Sunken City. Ever heard about it?" The name did ring a bell, aside from the obvious trope. He had heard someone use the term in Zalcien, once, but who... Guy. He mentioned it when he talked with Soluble about his network. "Once, in passing, though I''m not sure what it means." "Ya see, Zalcien ain''t the first city to be built here. It''s why the place has this weird foundation thing, it was made to cover everything that''s down there." "You''re telling me Zalcien was built on a dome over an abandoned city? Why? Why not just tear down the old one?" "It ain''t a full-dome, only half of it. As for the why? They thought it''d be easier to start over and not bother with the old stuff." "That sounds stupid." "Guess the Union didn''t want to bother with their big failure or all of the ghosts of the people they failed to save." "Ghosts? Actual ghosts?" "Yeah, but there ain''t a lot of them left. When people began to settle they got rid of them. Still a few left, those too dangerous to fight but territorial enough they''re easy to avoid and those that are completely harmless." "Why would people settle down in a haunted abandoned city- it''s to break the law, isn''t it." "Not to break the law, but avoid it. It''s mostly Villains, gangs, and Vigilantes down there, though you ain''t gonna find a lot of the latter this side of the city." James'' appreciation of reality and logic had already been stretched thin long ago. Reincarnating as a shadowy blob in the sewers of a medium city in a superhero world? That already hurt, but it was an exception. Zalcien''s history and ongoings were weird, but they made sense in a way. This? This gave him a headache. "How does that even work? Like, what''s the point of coming down here if everyone else is also there? How does a city even fit down there? Why was there a giant lake?" "Calm down kid, you''re gonna bust a vein or something. Let''s start with the easy one, how does it all fit. The Sunken City isn''t on this layer. First, you got the surface, then people''s basements, then the regular sewers, then the Sewage Network, and finally the Sunken City. I''m bringing you to a checkpoint where you''ll be able to descend even further." "Why do you even want to drop me off there?" "Because everyone who makes it to the Sewage Network has to go there once, to get noted down. To keep track of things." "There''s an administration?" "I''ll get to that in a bit. To keep on answering your little rant, that giant lake used to be where the workers who built the foundation had one of their camps. The thing is the size of a city, so they had a lot of those. There wasn''t any plan for water to come here, but... Things got messy with the Horror. The rest of the city doesn''t have those because they didn''t have to deal with it." "What''s the Horror?" "The reason why a fifth of Zalcien is filled by monster-infested slums." Oh. James had always wondered why Zalcien had slums. From what he understood the city was supposed to be a modern one in a developed country, and those usually didn''t have slums, at least not to the extent Zalcien had. Even more so since according to this woman they occupied over a fifth of the city, but... The fact something could ruin so much of a city and everyone overlooked it without a care was terrifying. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "Is it..." "Dead? Officially yes. But it doesn''t take a genius to understand why the heart of the slums is a dead place that even major Villains refuse to approach." Oh god, it''s still alive. "It doesn''t move around now, so it''s safe. No need to lose your lunch over it." "Uh... Thanks." "Anyway, the last part of your rant. Why does everyone want a place down here? Because, as you guessed, there are no cops or Heroes around. They know this place exists, but they also know everyone would work together to kick them out if they tried to come. So, relatively safe." "Maybe it''s just me, but I''d rather deal with the justice system than crazed criminals." "Sure, fights break out, but it''s pretty peaceful all things considered. The Sunken City is divided into areas, some more or less interesting depending on their equivalent on the surface, and people in the same area are pretty equal usually, so duking it out ain''t worth it." "Let me guess, the slums aren''t that great?" "Yup. The slums themselves are already a lawless place, why bother with a putrid home in the sewers? Just look at the big three. Wicked Witchcraft has its main base up there near the heart to study the Horror, though Abrakaboom has his own place somewhere under the main city. The Empress no one is sure, her main outpost is up there too but my personal bet is that her real base is close to the Union''s Headquarters, just to spite them. Hivines I''ve got no clue, they''re pretty new and relatively legal, but rumors say they have some sort of worship place not far from the Horror. Of course these nutjobs would have a thing for that abomination..." "And the Angels?" "No one''s sure either. He had his base in the middle of the city, on the surface, in an old warehouse. Since he disappeared and Marcus took over, however? No idea." "He?" "You know, him." "I don''t know who you''re talking about." She squinted her eyes beneath her hat, as though she was trying to stare directly at his soul. Maybe she was actually, James didn''t know her powers or even if she had some at all after all. "You''re not from around here, are ya?" James considered lying, but honestly, why bother? She had already figured it out. Besides, this could be a learning opportunity. "No. What was it?" "Everyone in Zalcien, from the slums to the rich villas, knows him. The man who shook Zalcien to its core. The one who disappeared without a trace after turning the entire sky blood-red over twenty years ago." For the first time since he had gotten on her boat, she stopped rowing. She quickly looked around before bending, approaching her head as much as possible without leaving her spot before she silently whispered a single word. A name James was pretty sure he wouldn''t have heard if it weren''t for his improved senses. "Natrashka." "Natrashka?" "Shh, you don''t want others to hear you.'' "Sorry." She sighed before she resumed rowing. "I don''t care about it, really. As far as I''m concerned he''s dead, but others? I know people who got killed for saying it out loud somewhere they shouldn''t have. Even the Angels don''t like talking about him, and he''s the one who began the whole thing." "Was he such a big deal?" "He never lost to the Heroes." "I... What?" "No one actually. He never lost a fight. Never. Either he left before things got too bad or he curb-stomped everyone in his way, there was no in-between. He never went to prison. The Union had an entire squad ready at all times just to fight him off." "What happened?" "Told you. One night there was a big storm, the sky turned red and we never saw him again. Personally, I think he got vaporized trying to do something, no idea what." "Uh." Both stayed silent after that. James kept looking out for anything of note in this Sewage Network but nothing stood out to him. After a few minutes spent that way, he suddenly realized something. "Oh, how do I get back where I came from? Is there a code or should I-" "Don''t worry, I''ll bring you back." "Don''t you have other people to transport?" "Nah. It''s why I was hanging out where I found you, I like the quiet." "That doesn''t sound like a good business plan." "What are they going to do, fire me? I stayed on the water looking for clients, just not at a popular spot." "Oh, I have to pay you don''t I? How much will it be?" "Bah, don''t worry about it. I ain''t gonna make some kid pay for an accident." "Oh. Thank you..." She scoffed and kept rowing. "By the way, how does the administration work there?" "Ah, right. Well, the funny thing is that the Sunken City has a mayor." "Really? Everyone comes together to elect someone?" "Ah, no. It''s a funny story, really. You see, back in the days of you-know-who, the Sunken City was a mystery. At some point some guy trying to set up a mad scientist lab dug a little too far and found a passage, and wouldn''t you know it he found the Sunken city. He began to brag about his new base and others tried to follow his example. Everyone was surprised when they found out that not only was his story true, but there was already someone there." "A bigger villain?" "Nope. Some archeologist nut or something, they wanted to examine the place. The Villains threatened them away, and a week later they were back with a full team of elite mercenaries. Needless to say, people took what they had to say more seriously. Since then the archeologist and the mercenaries run the place, they enforce the few rules there are and prevent everyone from getting too close to the center of the place so they can keep working." "Nothing else?" "Some taxes, but pretty low stuff compared to the average gang''s ''protection fee'', so no one has a problem with that. You can pick any place you want if there''s no sign on it and it isn''t occupied, you just have to bring it up so they can put you in their tax plan. After that, you have complete free reign so long as you don''t damage the place too much." "I thought there''d be more rules." "There are, but it wouldn''t concern you. Duel rules, holiday truces, freedom of existence..." "What was the last one?" "Don''t worry about it. Ah, here we are." Indeed, James had seen they were getting closer to a strange structure in the tunnel''s wall for a while now. He could only describe it as a train station for boats. Not a port, not a dock, but a small train station. A relatively open space held up by columns and with a few benches for people to wait on. Maybe ferry station would be a more fitting term? "So..." "Get down, go inside, say it''s your first visit and they''ll handle it. I''ll still be here if you come back before the night, I''ll pass by tomorrow morning. If you have to don''t hesitate to sleep here, the Sunken city is a relatively alright place but you''d be safer with no one around." "Thanks, miss...?" "Call me Martha." "Thanks, Martha." "Have a good time, kid." James lept from the boat onto the stony ground of the station. There was no one around. He quickly stepped up to an opening in the wall where he guessed some sort of office would be and went inside. On her boat, Martha drank another mouthful of her flask''s content before sitting down, pulling out a small book from a pocket in her vest. She spared a last glance at the dark figure that she had brought here before beginning to read. "Good luck, kid." Chapter 56 : The Sunken City James faked looking around with his head as his domain filled him in on the reception he had just walked in. It was pretty simple, honestly. Green bricks, some regular lamps on the walls, and a big old desk right in front of him which was the first thing anyone would see when they entered. The desk was nothing incredible either, a somewhat darkish brown wood, it didn''t appear to be of incredibly high quality but it was enough. Situated at the desk in a simple chair made from similar wood was a thin bald black man with a pair of round glasses reading some kind of magazine, the "Sunless Sights Monthly". As he approached the man, something shook within James. A glance inside his body and he found the old bat amulet he had bought at the Black Block on his first visit glowing red. An amulet that the automaton salesman had guaranteed would detect vampires. The man looked up from his magazine and studied James, letting his gaze wander from his feet to his head as his face remained still as stone. "First time?" "Uh... Yes?" The man put down his magazine and opened a drawer, pulling out a sheet of paper and a pen with which he immediately wrote down a date, 13/05/23. "I''m going to need your name." "James. James Valdest." "Are you a minor of your species?" "No." "How did you find this place?" "Someone broke down a wall and opened a passage to the Sewage Network. A ferrywoman brought me here." "Her name?" "Martha." "Are you familiar with the rules of the Sunken City?" "Somewhat." "Don''t start fights whenever you see someone, keep your drama to yourself, don''t let in cops or Heroes, if you get a place pay your taxes, and always listen to what people with a skull badge have to say. If you have doubts about whether someone is an authentic peacekeeper or not, go to an office like this one and report the number written on their badge. In the same vein, if you feel like someone is disturbing the peace of the Sunken City you may report them, we''ll have someone investigate. Got it or do you need a note?" "I''ll be fine, thank you." "A few more questions. Are you part of any established group within the Sunken City?" "No." "Are you part of a group that wishes to establish itself in the Sunken City?" "I... I think so." "Cops or Heroes?" "No." "Vigilantes?" "Maybe." "Thank you for your time. You should be able to retrieve a piece of ID here within the next few days that you will be able to present to other entry points to prove you have already gone down." "That''s it?" "Yes. Keep to yourself, don''t make waves and you''ll be fine." "I just... I assumed things would be harder, considering how some folks up there talk about this place." "The first step to going to the Sunken City is to go through the sewers. That''s the part people have trouble with around these parts. Any other question?" "Uh... I don''t think so." "Good. The last thing, this entry point uses a mechanical system to join the Sunken City. You''ll find the lift behind me. Only four buttons, up, down, stay, and alarm. Don''t press that one unless there''s an emergency. Don''t break the lift." "Got it. Thank you." James stepped around the vampire''s desk, taking notice of the frighteningly accurate drawing of his humanoid form the man somehow had managed to complete on his paper sheet in the time it took for them to talk. Is this really necessary? Wouldn''t a photo have worked better? Unless... James preferred not to think of how the drawing had been done so quickly. His recent fights had shown he had some aptitude for battling, though mostly through trickery and preparations, but this... He was already a bit of a worrywart, but he would be at his maximum down there. The lift behind the vampire''s desk was relatively simple. Two arrows on the wall, one up and one down, but he had no need to use them as the cabin was already at his level. Its door was a metal grid that he had to manually open, like those of the very lifts meant for human use - whether because this was cheaper to install or the place was that old, James didn''t know. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. James pulled on the grid, stepped in, and closed it behind him. As expected there was another grid on the opposite side of the first one, currently leading to a brick wall, and the two other walls of the lift were covered with yellow wallpaper with pink flowers for some reason. As the vampire had said there were four buttons, another set of arrows pointing up and down, a blank button between those and distinctly isolated from the others one with a classic bell drawing on it. With a simple press of the down arrow, the lift began to shake. James readied himself, bending his knees and putting his hands against the walls of the lift for support. He had seen enough action and horror flicks to know better than to trust shaking old lifts. The vampire spared him a glance and chuckled before he returned to his magazine. The lift went down, and slowly the views of a brick wall and the vampire''s desk through the grids got replaced. It wasn''t much at first, but the further James descend the more he could see of the Sunken City. That''s high. Old grey skyscrapers in the distance, some covered in vines, others crumbling to nothing, some modernized and covered in metal sheets and small blinking lights that made them stand out in the darkness of the immense dome they were in. The tallest stood in the middle of the dome, and yet despite their incredible size they didn''t even reach the bare roof of the dome, hundreds of meters separating them. From that point on the buildings slowly got smaller as they got farther from the center of the dome, creating an odd visual effect. He could also see more lift shafts left and right, though it appeared they usually were in pairs from what he could see. Apparently, his station was on the smaller side of things. It''s like being inside of a snowglobe. An old, really dirty snowglobe, with no snow. Maybe "snowglobe" isn''t the best term after all... The walls of the dome were surprisingly a very familiar pitch-black, though from where he was standing in his little lift James was too far away to get a good enough look at them to know their exact state. There weren''t any stalactites, that was for sure, and he could see some colored spots, most green but not always, some even glowed in the dark, that he presumed was some sort of moss. The city itself was, well, a city. To the point it was somewhat uncanny. It looked like a regular city had just been left to rot for decades, and despite the dozens of customized places he could see, they couldn''t stand out enough to drown out the dead normalcy of the abandoned urban environment. Not to say the fake volcanoes, sci-fi labs, and such were bad, but they were so few and far between. A bat flew by James'' descending cabin, screeching before avoiding his little transport. James was thankful to see his bat amulet hadn''t reacted to the flying mammal. His first encounter with a vampire had gone well, and he didn''t want to be racist - or perhaps specist would be more appropriate, or even vampirophobic - but knowing bloodthirsty monsters couldn''t sneak up on him that easily eased his worries. Not that he had anything for them to drink, but they didn''t know that. An abandoned city stuck in eternal darkness, uh... I can see what kind of people would want to come here. The lift rattled and James worried this might be a one-way trip. Considering how high up he was, even with his peculiar physique he wasn''t sure he would survive the fall. Well, without organs and bones the worst that would happen would be turning into splatters, and if his experience with Brutus the shark man was representative then having his body turn into pieces wouldn''t be that bad... Still, it would be for the best if he didn''t have to test that theory out. The lift''s shaft - if it could be called that, considering it was open on two sides of its entire length - was in arguably good condition, so the rattling was probably nothing. Hopefully. But the descent... It''s so slooow... I think dealing with the ratlings and trying to learn magic ruined my patience... Objectively the lift wasn''t that slow. In fact, it was much faster than any other one James had ever used before, with noticeable winds entering and leaving from the sheer speed of it through the two grid openings. The problem was the ridiculous distance it had to cover. Come to think of it, wasn''t there a thing about lifts being limited on how high they could go? Something about the cables? Focusing on this stray thought, James paid more attention to the cable system that allowed his descent. Despite the lift''s old look and his complete ignorance of anything engineering-related, the cable system seemed really impressive and resilient. The cables - a pair for each corner of the cabin - were incredibly thick, and so were the rails on each corner. Okay, I''m already bored. Mercifully the trip came to an end soon enough, though James would still make sure to bring something to do on the way up and for any future use. The cabin went down, getting closer and closer to another station. Though before it entered the building James noticed there wasn''t much around in this area. Some more one-story buildings, but that was it. It looked like this place used to be on the outskirts of the city before it was abandoned, or maybe a park and the buildings were placed later? He could always ask. The cabin entered the building, and sure enough, it stopped. James opened the grid, opposite to the one he had used to get in he noticed, and exited the cabin. He closed the grid behind him and stepped forward, arriving at a door he had to open to enter the actual office. What was on the other side of the door shocked him a little. A desk and a chair, much like the one the vampire used, but the one using those was a little different from the man he had met above. Namely, it was a skeleton. "Oh?" A skeleton wearing a red sundress. "Hello there! You''re new!" A skeleton that happily stood up from her seat - he assumed she was a woman, going by the dress and voice, though it might be best to ask - and walked towards him, paper and clipboard in hands, standing a good head taller than him despite his humanoid form already being slightly above average in height. "Uhm, hello? Miss?" "Call me Mimi, cutie! But you sound weird. Ah, let me guess, first time you see an undead?" "Yes. I didn''t expect skeletons to be so... Lively." "Hihi, don''t worry. So, first time down here or not?" "Yes, first time." "So, I know you already filled a file up there with Vladdy, but I need to ask a few things to verify stuff. Don''t worry, it''ll be quick!" "Uh... Sure." "So! Your name?" "James. James Valdest." "That''s a cute name! Next, minor or not?" "I''m an adult." "Awesome! Last but not least, are you part of any group or organization that already is installed in the Sunken City, wishes to come here, or could prove to be dangerous, such as the police or the Union?" "I''m part of a group that may want to get down here." "Good for you! Now, I''m gonna need a quick picture, stand still and say cheese!" Before he had time to respond she had already picked up a camera before she abruptly stopped, her finger bone right above the button. "Wait, are you okay with being photographed? Any allergies to light? To technology?" "No?" "Ah! Good. Goody good. Cheese!" "Cheese?" And in a flash, it was done. "Thank you for your time! To go back up you''ll have to come here since you don''t have an ID yet." "Can''t people just claim to be here for the first time every time?" "They could, but we share files. It wouldn''t work for long." "I didn''t see much up there. Neither here." "Magic, silly. Anyway, this place is pretty peaceful, so you don''t have to worry much. Enjoy your stay!" "Thank you." And with that, James was on his way out. Onwards to the Sunken City. I hope they have a library nearby. Chapter 57 : Arguably free real estate As James had seen from above during his descent, this part of the Sunken City was pretty calm. Underwhelming, even. It probably used to be on the outskirts of the city in its prime, judging by the fact there was a road and pavement but the area was really open. Honestly, if it weren''t for the whole "this place has been abandoned for years after most of its inhabitants probably died until the scum of the world decided to use all of this free real estate", it would be pretty nice. He never understood how people could handle the mania of the big cities, it was one of the reasons why he had stayed in his relatively small hometown. Unlike the slums, this place was deserted. The only sound around was his own footsteps, sometimes the occasional gust of wind - which made absolutely no sense scientifically speaking but, again, James had gone through enough magical shenanigans that he knew better than wonder how that one worked. He''d argue even the sewers were more active with how the local wildlife thrived whenever no one was around to interrupt them. Which reminded him he probably should have another talk about overhunting one specific species with the ratlings and Mischief. Mostly David. James let his curiosity guide him, aimlessly wandering around in case something caught his eye. Throughout his life, he had seen many representations of abandoned cities through various media, including some actual abandoned urban areas such as Chernobyl. Though he had heard some people still lived in that one, it was still much less than in its heydays. But as always, seeing a picture or reading a description is so far from the truth... What a lot of those representations had in common was the theme of nature taking back its rightful place. Plants taking over everything, wild animals roaming the streets and making their nests in old shops and homes... Here? Some flora had grown and covered certain areas, for sure, like the buildings covered in vines he saw during his descent, but it was much less than he anticipated. The plants and mushrooms that grew down here were mostly small, desperate things, oddly shaped and unappealing. There was no fauna, apart from bugs and maggots he saw every once in a while. It felt weird to be in a city with no birds singing or screaming or chirping or whatever else noise they could make. Even the Black Block had pigeons, crows, and ravens flying around in search of scraps to steal. Here? Nothing. Not even a bat. As he walked James'' thoughts went back to Mimi. What was she? A skeleton, obviously, but of what? A really tall human? Even then, how did undeath work? She had confirmed she was undead, so it wasn''t some sort of "everything is invisible except the bones". Had she been reanimated? Cursed? Did she remember her old life? When did she die? How? Did she have contacts with any sort of death expert? A magical one of course, not a forensic doctor. Maybe... Maybe there''s some sort of "reborn" group, for undead and reincarnated folks. A way for me to know why I''m here. He couldn''t be too precise, otherwise, she''d know why he wanted to have this sort of information, but he could always make use of the friendly and energetic personality of the skeleton. It wouldn''t be the worst thing he would have done in this life. But this can wait. For now, let''s focus on- Something caught James'' attention. Further down the street was a relatively large place, with multiple buildings placed together to make one big property. There was a big space between it and the road, some sort of parking judging by the few faded white lines that had survived the test of time left on the asphalt. James stepped closer, studying it even further. Past the parking was a big metal gate, its thick bars covered in rust, with walls surrounding the entire area. Beyond the gate, he could see another open area, though much smaller than the parking, with a spot that must have been covered with grass once, with only dirt left now. Beyond that was a two stories tall building, with a dozen broken windows and with only a few patches of flakey beige paint left on its red brick walls. On the sides of this building were two more, and if James had to hazard a guess he''d say there was probably a fourth one behind so that all four of them together made a square. He couldn''t be sure of course, but it was often how those sorts of things went. On the second story of the front building, standing tall and mighty, was a sign in horrendous condition, barely holding on. On it, there were only a few letters left, most of them had fallen to the ground below and shattered. Mo r Gr e e d''s O ph age. James approached and looked around, making sure that no one was already occupying the place. It would be odd for such a large place to go unused, but... If his guess about this place''s past was correct... And with Martha''s warning about ghosts... Yeah. It made sense. I just hope the place is empty. He didn''t even have to open the gate, one of its two doors had fallen off its hinges long ago. He slowly walked forward, taking care not to disrupt anything. He went up the front steps of the main building and carefully knocked at one of the two wooden doors of the main entrance. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. He waited. He waited. He- The door opened. Of course, there was no one in the entry hall, nor behind the door. James stepped in, his steps echoing against the old rotten floorboards, and didn''t flinch when the door closed behind him. It was a classic, one he had utilized himself. He looked around the room, taking in the red brick walls occasionally covered by torn white and grey vertically striped wallpaper and wood on the bottom fifth. The place might have been heartwarming once before time had taken its toll, but all that was left was a gloomy remnant. There was a large staircase ahead, but James preferred to ignore it for now in favor of exploring the rest of this level. He wasn''t in a hurry, after all. Though I should probably head back home after that. I don''t want the others to get worried and I want to secure the passage with another fake wall. The orphanage - if James'' guess on the missing letters was correct - was pretty much what he expected. An office near the entrance, multiple hallways, a large cantine with multiple long tables and dozens of chairs, a few study rooms, a library, a big kitchen, multiple bathrooms, numerous toilets, what was probably a music room judging by the piano, a schoolroom judging by the desks and the blackboard, different playrooms with different toys... Of course, everything was in an advanced state of disrepair. The walls were pretty much bare, the furniture falling apart, the books unreadable and falling to pieces, the paintings on the walls had turned completely black, the water in the bathrooms looked worse than the one in the sewer canals, what little food remained in the kitchen was mostly dark mulch that had fused into the various appliances, everything was covered in dust... Not to mention the constant feeling of being watched. There was also a small room with stairs that led to some sort of basement, though it was hidden behind a locked door. James could have easily broken it, but he did not need to go down there yet. Not only did he have more buildings to explore after that, but maybe he''d even find the key upstairs. Besides, going to the basement of a haunted building, especially an orphanage, sounded like an atrocious idea right now. Especially with the wordless whispers that he could hear from here. James went up the stairs in the entry hall and explored, finding two dorms and a few bedrooms, as well as a door. This specific door stood out to him. Though just as damaged and old as the rest, the wood seemed a little nicer than the rest, and there was a little sign next to it. th r G r nh l . James put his hand on the old bronze door handle, but when he pushed it realized it was locked. So, he tried knocking again. And again. And again. And he heard a small click. James tried the handle again, and this time found the door unlocked. He opened it, and had he still been human would have let out a gasp at what he saw. The office was clearly better than the other he had seen downstairs, it was bigger, what remained of the furniture seemed more luxurious, the bookshelves to the side were filled with old leathery books - probably ruined by no care and the passage of time, but still - and it had a massive window that occupied most of the wall giving a view of the court between the buildings - which denied James'' hypothesis of there being four buildings, there were only three, with the last side of the court being closed off further away by the walls surrounding the property. It must have been a beautiful garden long ago, but all that was left was rot and decay. But it wasn''t all of this that made James gasp, no. It was the thing on the seat of the desk, its back to the window. It looked like at its core it was a human skeleton, but for some reason, it had turned into a tree. Ligh brown bark replaced the white of bones, each one growing into a branch or root that spread throughout the room. The shape of the skeleton was somewhat preserved, with the skull hanging slightly to the right and the space between the ribs being preserved. No leaves, but somehow the tree still seemed alive, even with no light or water. Considering everything that had happened so far, James assumed that it was somewhat conscious. "Hello? Are you the one who let me in?" The skeletal tree stayed silent, but its branches began to rustle and James could swear he heard some creaking near its head. "I''m sorry if I''m disturbing you. My name is James. I wanted to know if I could use this place?" The rustling grew more intense and yes, there had indeed been creaking near the head considering the skull began to break out from the rest of the tree, the jaw slowly moving as the thing began to groan. "If you don''t want me here, I will leave immediately." The eyeless sockets stared at him as the skull straightened, its jaw clacking in a strange thud of wood hitting wood as a voice spoke out, a messy thing, closer to a garble than noise and barely intelligible. "Death..." "Yes, I am aware you are dead." "You... Death..." "Is... Is this a threat? As I said, I don''t mind leaving." "Dead... Alive..." "I... Are talking about yourself? I met an undead earlier today, maybe I could ask her for some tips for you?" "Name... Name..." "I am James." "Mother... Mother..." "You are the one who was in charge of the orphanage?" "Children... Nuns... Basement... Safety..." The skull began to spasm, twitching left and right. "Catastrophe... Pain... Danger... Hide..." The skull stopped moving at once. "Trapped... Forgot... Free..." The wooden ribs began to pulse. "Take... Open..." James approached the skeletal tree and slipped his hand between the ribs. His fingers felt something, and with his domain, he knew it was a wooden key growing from its spine. He grabbed it and pulled it, breaking it off from its wooden prison. "Children... Happy... Mother... Happy... Share..." James nodded. "It''s the basement downstairs? What about the other buildings?" "Basement... Safety..." "I''ll see what I can do." James bowed at the poor thing and left the room. He had an idea of what he would find down below, and frankly, he hoped it wouldn''t scar his poor psyche even further. Chapter 58 : Remains As he faced the locked door of the basement, the voiceless whispers James had heard were louder than ever, almost deafening. For some reason - probably something to do with the paranormal activity he supposed - he couldn''t sense anything behind the door, not even with his domain. Looking back there had been something similar with the skeletal tree, but there it was only the undead itself he hadn''t noticed until he opened the door, the rest of the room was fine. Here? Nothing. I could just run away, leave this place behind and never come back... But that doesn''t seem right. James was no saint, but ignoring someone''s desperate plea for help felt wrong, especially after directly talking to them. Besides, knowing his luck and the tendency for this world to follow tropes, he wouldn''t be surprised to learn that trying to cheat a spiritual entity after a deal was struck was a great way to get cursed, or worse. James eyed the wooden key in his hand, a big, bulky thing that looked more at home in a feudal dungeon than a relatively modern orphanage, and put it in the door''s lock. The whispers went silent for a second before they began anew, even louder. James carefully prepared a few magical bolts with a pair of newly grown tentacles, easily holding the black shimmering orb. He had yet to test the things out in an actual combat situation since he had preferred taking down the invading thugs with his tentacles to use the element of surprise, and after that to directly skip onto the heavy weaponry to avoid testing out if Grover''s clay armor was immune to magic. Hopefully, he wouldn''t have to magic today either, but better be safe than sorry. I just hope that the whole "magic works against ghosts" thing is about real life and not some game. Kinda hard to tell sometimes. Zalcien''s weird. James turned the key and opened the door, immediately being hit by a wave of a horrid smell. He had a few guesses as to what he would find and was sad to find out he was correct. Bodies. Mostly skeletons, some still had skin but those were rare. They were all huddled together, some hugging, some handholding, some resting their heads on others'' shoulders and preserved this way. Corpses in nun clothing were generally the ones on which the others held on, but for each one there had to be five "normal" bodies next to them. As normal as children''s skeletons could be. Shadows flickered around the room, beneath the bodies, up on the ceiling, and around the doorways of the immense basement, probably leading to rooms used for storage or living areas in case of crisis. Hopefully, a bathroom too, though maybe they hadn''t needed to use it in the end. The twisting ethereal things were relatively humanoid in the same way his Silhouette persona was. A head and a torso, but everything past that were too jumbled, too thin, too unstable to be recognizable. Well, they had eyes he supposed, large ovals occupying most of their faces, holes through which he could see an even more decayed version of the basement. They were all staring at him, a dozen or so looked incredibly tall but the rest barely reached his waist, with a few outliers that were eye-level with his shoulders. A new hole slowly formed beneath their pairs of eyes. A mouth. At once, they screamed. "HElp Us!" "I''m afraID-" "SisTEr, whERe Is-" "Is THe Bad mAN GonE?" "Is MiSTer MOOn goinG to SAVE US?" "It hurTS!" "I cAN''t sEE!" "I''m SOrry, chiLd, I-" "ArE we GonnA sEE maMA?" Countless voices, all screeching out their last words, an unbearable cacophony of despair and agony. Until the voice of a little girl whispered. "I''m cold." The others stopped screaming before slowly repeating after her. "Cold." "Cold." "Cold." "Cold." "Empty." "Hollow." "Hurt." "Lost." "Lost." "Cold." "Trapped." "Hurt." "Empty." "Hollow." "Cold." Somehow, their whispers were even more deafening than their screams. It took all of James'' will simply to keep standing and hold onto his human form, his shadowy flesh melting under the ghostly wails. Gotta... Tell... "Door... Open..." "Speaks?" "Voice?" "Someone?" Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. "Here." "Intruder." "Friend." "Brother." "Threat." "Child." "Alone." "Afraid." "Help." "Hug." "The door... Is open... You''re free..." "Free?" "Free?" "Free?" "Trapped." "Light?" "Where is the light?" "WheRE IS The LIGht?" "TRappED!" One of the smaller spirits approached James and looked up at his face with its large hollow eyes. "Name. Trixie. Name?" "I''m... James... Could you... Tell your friends to calm down?" Her relatively big head tilted to the side as she stared at him, examining his body as he kept on focusing to keep it solid. "Hurt." "Yeah, it... It kinda does..." She looked at him a little more before floating away to go see one of the tallest spirits who was muttering something about safety over and over. The little ghost rose until their eyes met. "Friend. Hurt. Noise." The tall one appeared to notice James for the first time, despite having screamed at him when he had first stepped into the room. As it saw his disheveled state, it gasped and in a flicker of existence stood next to him, humming what sounded like a lullaby as a pair of ghostly hands formed out of thin air and began to pat James'' head and slowly rub his back. The other tall spirits turned around and stared at the scene before they dispersed in the room, forming eerily long arms to hug close the smaller entities and hold them close as they kept on gathering more. The screams and whispers slowly died down as the spirits calmed each other and soon enough the room was silent once more, apart from an ambient wind coming from nowhere. The spirits had all gathered in the center of the room, the only exceptions being the tall one that had hummed and the small one that James had talked to who both stood next to him. "Thank you..." James stretched a little, trying to ease what was left of the pain. The only things that had really hurt me so far had been the Titaroach''s electricity and the Matoador''s charges, and even then that last one I quickly got over. Guess ghost attacks can be added to the list... If that even was an attack... James took in the bizarre, creepy, and yet somehow somewhat wholesome sight of the ghostly nuns taking care of the children''s specters. "The door is open. You can leave now." "Danger." "I don''t know what happened here but it''s over. The city is almost empty. The only people left are the desperate and those avoiding the law." "Can''t leave." "Why? Is it the unfinished task thing?" "Can''t." "Listen, I don''t know much about ghosts. I could try to find someone to help? I already proposed the idea to the one upstairs but..." "Mother?" "Greenheld?" "Yes, she''s... She''s here. Not like you, but she''s in her office. She asked me to open the door and free you, and I''d get to use the place." "New one?" "New child?" "New caretaker?" "New gardener?" "I... I''m sorry I can''t help more than that, but I really have no idea what to do here. I also have my own problems to deal with, including kids to take care of." "Children?" "Orphans?" "I... I suppose they are. But they''re not the only ones. I have employees, a pack of mutated intelligent and somewhat murderous rats..." "Orphans welcome." "Everyone deserves love." "Everyone deserves help." "Everyone deserves a family." "I... I''m going to take a look around before going back to chat with... Mother Greenheld was it?" The phantoms simply stared, and James didn''t bother any further before he explored. The basement was set up like a bunker, with dorms - though much worse than the ones upstairs - storage rooms, a mess hall, and the like. There were two storage rooms near the entrance, with one being filled with spare furniture and the occasional collapsing antique, and the other one being a wine cellar. Surprising to see something like that in an orphanage, not so much in a religious building. James saw one of the nuns'' corpses with more intricate clothes than the rest, not by much but undeniably so. She was holding a big iron key, one that he had no trouble identifying as the original his wooden version was based on. I guess they went down there and locked the door willingly... But then why didn''t they get out? Besides that, there wasn''t much in the basement, apart from the piles of old bodies of course. James was very glad he wouldn''t have to search them to get an item of value of some sort, handling the fresh corpses of thugs who had tried to kill him was one thing, dead children and nuns that had been left to rot for decades was another. The fact the phantoms followed him as he left the room and climbed up the stairs was surprising, but not unexpected. When James reached the office, the tall spirits kept the smaller ones outside as they entered the room and studied the skeletal tree at the desk. "Mother?" "Sisters... Children..." "Outside." "Not disturb." "Found... Freed..." "Yes, I found them, and I opened the door, but they say they can''t leave." "Trapped." "Can''t." "Promise..." "I can try to contact my undead acquaintance, but I have no idea of what to do here. I''m sorry." "Tried... Freedom... Light... Share... Welcome..." "You... Still want to share the orphanage with me?" "Promise... Reward..." "I... Thank you. Will the others be fine with people coming here? Even if they''re not children? They might do things they shouldn''t see..." "All. Welcome." "Death... Cold... Grasp... Dark... Witness..." "I... Again, thank you. Do you want me to do anything particular before I go? Plant your tree somewhere? Dig some graves? Contact a priest?" "Rest... Garden... Tree... Protect..." "You want me to bury them in the garden and then plant your tree over them?" "Protect... Comfort... Sun..." "I''ll do it. But, you should know we''re underground now. Can''t you see there''s no light coming through the window?" "Light... Protect..." "I''ll see what I can do. But... Can it wait until my next visit? That would be a lot of work and I don''t want the people at home to get worried." "Waited...Decades... Patience... Grown..." "Thank you, I''ll come back soon. I''m off, then."
When the shadowy cutie from earlier came back, the first thing Mimi noticed, before she even saw or heard him, was the remnants of powerful necrotic energies that clung to him. As an undead, she passively noticed any amount of this sort of thing with frightening accuracy and did so passively, whereas a good deal of necromancers would need to cast a spell. She wasn''t surprised by the fact the kid was covered in the stuff, he already had some on him earlier and despite its relative safety death was still a common occurrence in the Sunken City, so killing something or finding a bunch of dead bodies wasn''t rare. No, it was the sheer amount, age, and potency of the stuff. To her magical senses, it looked like the kid had jumped into a pile of century-old corpses of some powerful magic practitioner. Again, not impossible considering the place''s past, but surprising that he had found such a spot in such a short amount of time and survived. There were usually powerful undead in those areas, and feral ones didn''t take too kindly to living folks. Maybe they hadn''t realized the kid was even alive in the first place? He did have that odd scent of something that had met death but came back, she wondered how that happened. "Hey there, cutie!" "Hey. Say, do you have some sort of confidentiality stuff?" "Technically yes, but no magical oath to enforce it. Just regular hierarchy." "Oh." "Hey, ask away! I know how to keep a secret." "I wanted to ask about the old orphanage." Oh, that''s where he had been. "Greenheld''s place? I''d avoid it if I were you." "Does anyone claim the place." "No one except Greenheld herself, and I ain''t approaching that. See, the thing with exorcists is they fill the place with life energy or mana to chase away the ghosts, but Greenheld? She already has life energy in her. So, immune to exorcism, AND great against other undead and regular people. Not violent enough to warrant professional hunters, but she doesn''t take kindly to folks who try to come in. So, don''t go back there." "I won''t promise anything." He passed her and went into the lift, and soon enough he was going up, back to the Sewage Network. In the loneliness of her room, Mimi giggled. "Hihi, kids." Chapter 59 : Below the ground The trip back was pretty calm. James read an old newspaper he had found in the street to pass the time in the lift, it was a little over a decade old but it did help pass the time. It luckily had unfilled crosswords as well as some ads and a few articles about the local Supers'' latest exploits, whether Hero, Vigilante, or Villain. There was something about Abrakaboom blowing up the museum of explosives, Serpent preventing a bank heist, Firefighter putting out a massive fire born from Abrakaboom''s plan that threatened a school, and a report about a new mysterious member of the Blood Angels that looked like a cyborg according to those that had seen it. The journalist who wrote that specific article even wondered if the guy wouldn''t replace Marcus, the latest leader of the band who had taken over a few years prior since the spot had opened up after "the incident". The ride thankfully came to an end soon enough, and James was back in the black vampire''s office, the man in question still reading his magazine. He reminded James that his ID for the Sunken City should be ready in a few days, and the shadowy one took that as his cue to leave. Outside of the office, back in the little station, James was glad to see Martha was still there, the old Australian clich¨¦ reading a book. He greeted her and without a word she invited him back on her boat. The boat ride was mostly silent, and James easily guessed this must have been how she usually behaved with her other clients. He paid close attention to the paths they took on the Sewage Network, in case he would need to use it himself one day. A thought came to mind as he observed the various alternate entrances and passages in the walls around him. I should probably create a few decoys. Infuse some of those dead-end ways so that people looking for me waste time locating the right one, and so that people randomly searching won''t find my black entrance weird. I''ll get to it after I''m done preparing things at home. And just like that, James was back to the start. At a glance, he wouldn''t be able to tell if it was the right one but based on the proximity to his infused materials he knew it was the right place. "Thank you, Martha. Do you want me to go get the money?" "I told you, I''m not making you pay. It was my duty to bring someone who discovered the Network to the closest station. If you gave them my name, I should even get a bonus, so there." "Alright, alright. Say, could you come back tomorrow?" "Sure, but why? Got something you have to do down there?" "I... The one in charge of my group wants to go." "Oh. How do ya know?" "He''s got his tricks." "Fine. But he''ll have to pay. You get the finder''s offer, not him." "Sure." James watched her go as she rowed away, waiting for her to be out of sight before he entered the passage back home. She seemed like a friendly person, but he just wanted to be sure she wouldn''t associate James the new guy in town, and the more confident Silhouette. It wasn''t a true secret identity since legally speaking James didn''t exist on Terra Stellis, but being free to step out of the Silhouette persona and just be himself without having to worry about the people around was nice. It''s why he had been a little on the fence when it came to Sam''s visit to the clinic, but in the end, the teen''s health was more important and James hoped he was loyal enough to keep his mouth shut. As for the Shadow Commando, they had never heard the name James and he had purposefully made his human form a little bigger and bulkier around them. They were not the sharpest tools in the shed, but hopefully, it would be enough for them to see their shapeshifted boss and that random guy named James as two different persons, just two individuals of the same species at best, maybe brothers or an uncle and his nephew at worst. Or, now that he thought about it, considering what they knew of Solvent, they''d think James was only someone Silhouette had infused. If asked about it, this was probably the answer he would give. It wasn''t long before he was going up the stairs between the passage and his lair, putting his clothes back inside of his body as he returned to his usual non-bipedal form. He could sense the Shadow Commando getting in position and readying themselves for a fight, which he had to give them credit for looked more intimidating than he assumed they could be. "Boss?" "Still no donuts, but I think you might have a way to earn them soon." At that the group relaxed, recognizing the little code they had set up beforehand. "Nice to see you back, boss!" "So, what did you find?" "A passage to the Sewage Network." "Never heard of that." "I think I did once, but I can''t remember where or what." "It''s a series of canals and... Artificial lakes, I suppose. Some people use boats to roam around and pick up people to bring to the Sunken City, like taxis." "Oh, like gondolas! That sounds nice." "Not as romantic since it''s the sewers, but it''s a start." "Wait, guys, shut up. Boss, did you say the Sunken City?" "Yes. The local area isn''t much, according to the administration the surface of the slums is more attractive than their underground, but I did find something interesting. A building I believe we could restore and use as a base." "Boss, you don''t understand. The Sunken City is like a myth around here. Some people think it doesn''t exist, and the rest of us see it as a new chance. A relatively safe place with no murderous mutant beast running around, with enough rules to keep the big guys in check without impacting us, the little folks." "I cannot deny it was peaceful, but I felt like the Black Block was a more welcoming place. The area we live over was eerily empty, for example. I''m sure there might also be bakers and shops further in, but on the outskirts..." "Maybe you''re right, boss. You''re the one who saw the place. But all I''m saying is that if people hear about you having a place down there, they won''t be looking at you the same way." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. "Sewers? That''s odd in these parts, but it means you''re good enough to survive the monsters. The Sunken City? Now that''s a new degree of prestige." "If you say so, you are the locals after all. Now, I think we should prepare ourselves for tomorrow." "What are we doing tomorrow, boss?" "The same thing we do every day. Prepare ourselves for the worst and do our best to make a safe place for us." "I feel like that was a reference to something, but I don''t have the context." "Something like that. Now, just to be on the safe side of things, do any of you have any experience in dealing with corpses, ghosts, or undead?"
Making a fake wall in the passage to hide the stairs as well as the lair and infusing other random passages nearby as decoys had been easy and had been quick. And so had the selection of the initial team to descend to the Sunken City and establish a proper base in the old orphanage, since the entirety of the Shadow Commando had volunteered. They were pretty dedicated to the fact they would always all work together, even though their new task meant interacting with undead and century-old bodies. Martha had been pretty grumpy about transporting half a dozen persons, especially with their big backpacks, but the power of money shone true. The entire Shadow Commando fit on the boat, although they had to squeeze together. James, in his Silhouette persona, just had to stretch his body higher to avoid the little crowd. The joys of shapeshifting. "The kid didn''t say anything about a crew, just you." "I decided to make good on my plans right away. I have a location, I might as well put them to work and get it in proper shape." "Uh uh. So, what''s your thing with the kid? You''re related?" "In a sense." "He knows what you''re doing?" "Yes." "The world ain''t a nice place. Don''t ruin him." "I will always do my best to protect him and help him thrive." "Yeah, yeah. You wouldn''t be the first." A journey filled with the complaints of the group of barely professional thugs later, and the group had arrived at the station. Martha asked them how long they planned to say, James told her she didn''t need to wait for them. If all went well, the Shadow Commando would stay in the Sunken City for a few days and James was confident he''d be able to go back on his own. Inside the one manning the office was still the vampire, he welcomed the group and had each of them go through the registration procedure one by one until it was James'' turn once more. "Name?" "Silhouette." "Are you a minor of your species?" "No." "How did you find this place?" "As my employees told you, I was doing some construction work when I stumbled upon a passage." "What''s the name of the ferryman or ferrywoman or ferryother who brought you?" "As my employees said, Martha." "Are you familiar with the rules of the Sunken City?" "I was, but if I hadn''t been you informing each of my employees of them would have done the trick." "I have to be sure. Does your group already have an established presence in the Sunken City?" "Not yet, which is why we''re here today." "Are you in contact with the cops or the Union?" "No." "Are you a Vigilante group?" "In some ways, I suppose. I wish to make the world around me a better and safer place, but I will not go out of my way to fight Villains or initiate hostilities endlessly." "You better pay attention to that. Vigilantes are welcome down here, but if you''re too much trouble to keep around, you''re out." "I assumed so." "Last question. Since you''re the one in charge and you plan on taking over a place, does your group have and where are you going to set up your base?" "The name has yet to be decided, you can write down Silhouette''s shadows, for now. We will notify you as soon as there is a change. And yes, I know it''s clich¨¦. As for the base, we will occupy the Greenheld Orphanage." "I''m not here to judge. But Greenheld Orphanage? You''re sure? I''m not an expert but the local ghost can''t be exorcised according to Mimi." "I have my ways." "If you say so. Very well, we''ll get your IDs done within the next few days so remember to come by at some point. The lift to go down is behind me, with four buttons, up, down, stay, alarm. Only push the last one in case of emergency. Considering your group and the backpacks, only two persons at a time in the cabin, that thing''s solid but weight is still an issue." James nodded and headed first to the lift, followed by the sole woman of the Shadow Commando, the one that he felt was probably the closest thing to a leader the chaotic group had. They both entered the cabin and, with the press of a button, began their descent to the Sunken City. James was prepared this time and had bought a book at the Black Block about management, and he busied himself reading it as his employee took in the sight of the Sunken City. Or at least tried to. "It''s a shame there''s no light. I mean, there''s the few windows and neons signs we can see from there, even some moss, I think? But can you imagine what it would be like if it was fully lit up?" "It''s odd, to say the least. I''d say a diorama of an abandoned city, customized in different areas by different artists, and placed under a stone bell." "Right, you have darkvision. Forgot about that." "I''ll try to have Techlord look into something for you. It''d be best if you were at an advantage in the dark, after all, considering my theme and where we''re heading. The lanterns and flashlights with infused batteries will have to do for now." "Thanks, boss. Say, the kid that Martha gal talked about..." "I''d appreciate it if you and the others never bring this up again." "Sure. Sorry." "Don''t worry about it." "So... An orphanage, eh." "It is a large unoccupied and uncontested space." "A haunted orphanage." "I already negotiated with the local ghost in charge. Though I am not sure the term ''ghost'' is appropriate..." "Yeah, I know. We can use the place, we just have to bury the dead and then the creepy skeleton tree you talked about. It''s just odd, ya know? Most people avoid these places. Unless they''re demons or undead or necromancers or cultists, I guess." "If you say so." "You have a soft spot for kids, right?" "What are you insinuating?" "Nothing bad! It''s just, the way you act with the little rats... You care about them. It''s why you chose the orphanage, you knew there were kids who needed help." "If that is what you wish to believe. But I''d appreciate it if you stopped trying to analyze the mind of your employer." "Sorry, I''ll stop. Can I just get one last thing out? It''s not a question, just a statement." "If you can guarantee not to do this again, I suppose one more couldn''t hurt." "Boss, you should know the boys and I aren''t good people. We were part of a group meant to kill you, we all have a body count. We''re all cowards and scum. But you? You''re a good person, and we''re all glad to be working for you. We''ll follow you no matter what, and we know that sometimes horrible stuff has to happen, but... Could you please try to stay the way you are? If not for us or yourself, then for the kids." "..." The two stayed like that in silence for what felt like minutes. "Sorry, boss." "No, I... I appreciate the sentiment. I do not believe that I am a good person, as you say, but I try my best. So let us try our best together, shall we?" She nodded, and soon enough they had reached their destination. Mimi welcomed them and they made some small talk with her until the rest of the group arrived in pairs. They left on good terms and before long James and the Shadow Commando were at the Orphanage. James went by to greet Mother Greenheld before leading his team to the basement where, after some shock at seeing the state of the various bodies and the army of shades that were floating around, they delicately picked each body one by one and brought them to the inner court as they began to dig with shovels James had bought on the Black Block. Hours went by as they dug the communal grave and placed the body of each nun and child they had found in the basement, working as silently and respectfully as they could under the gaze of the orphanage''s spirits. Near the end James left the group to fetch Mother Greenheld''s wooden body, carefully extracting her from the gigantic window of her office as he struggled to deal with her roots and branches. In the end, James, the Shadow Commando, and the shades looked at the skeletal wooden form of Mother Greenheld as she stood on a mound of dirt, protecting the countless bodies of the orphanage''s past residents. At some point her posture had changed, going from her sitting position when she was still in her seat to a more natural-looking standing position, her arms spread wide as though showing the inner court to the world. "Thank...You..." Chapter 60 : Class
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: So, James, how are your magic studies going? JamesIsInTheDark: Good, I think? I haven''t had a lot of time to develop it recently. MagicIsTragic: Oh, shoot. TechnoGogo: With pleasure! Bazooka or artillery? KillLaKrill: Is it normal I wouldn''t be surprised if she did actually have some kind of rocket launcher? (Mod)Seagullag: It''s out of my jurisdiction. The Silence: Techno, I''d appreciate it if you didn''t disrupt the quiet of today. TechnoGogo: What about a silent explosion? The Silence: You may proceed. MagicIsTragic: No! Don''t you dare explode something without me! TechnoGogo: I''m gonna do it. KillLaKrill: Think of the children, Techno! TechnoGogo: They''ll appreciate the fireworks. Ready or not, here it comes! Three... Saray: Techno you better not actually explode something. TechnoGogo: Two... Saray: Seagullag! (Mod)Seagullag: For the record, I am merely a forum moderator, I do not have the power to stop whatever is happening. TechnoGogo: One... MagicIsTragic: I hope whatever you''re doing is legal, it''d be a shame to lose my nemesis so early in my career. TechnoGogo: Boom! The Silence: Oh my. JamesIsInTheDark: Just to be sure, this was only a troll right? I can''t see what''s happening outside right now and if there''s something in the sky I''d like to know. TechnoGogo: Yup, just troll. Saray: Techno, apologize now. TechnoGogo: Why? As James once said, it''s the Internet. You can''t trust everything people say. Saray: Techno. TechnoGogo: Alright, I''m sorry for giving you a scare. Happy? Saray: It will do for now. MagicIsTragic: Boo! Shame on you! Lying about explosions? You''ll pay for that! TechnoGogo: Oh, it was only a joke. A prank. A shenanigan. JamesIsInTheDark: I''m not a local, where I come from it''s easier to tell if people are serious or not, but they still avoided things that were a little too real. Saying they wanted to ditch everything and become a cryptid in the woods? Joke, obviously. Saying they wanted to blow up their school? That one got the police involved. Sometimes. When they were good at their job. TechnoGogo: Right, when you put it like that... KillLaKrill: By the way James, what happened with the noise last time in the end? JamesIsInTheDark: A guy helped a couple of people with feral animals, a Villain passed by and decided to trounce him good. He''s fine, by the way. A few scars, but he doesn''t mind. MagicIsTragic: Whoa, Villain attack? Do you know who did it? Saray: I haven''t heard about an attack like that... KillLaKrill: I guess people are a bit more preoccupied with the Nightsnatcher stuff than the usual Villain shenanigans. Saray: I guess... JamesIsInTheDark: I know who did it, yes, but I think it''d be best if I didn''t tell you. TechnoGogo: Why? JamesIsInTheDark: Well, as far as the Villain''s aware the guy is dead, and as much as I like you guys I''d rather not take the risk. The Silence: Understandable. JamesIsInTheDark: And I don''t want you to worry about my location. MagicIsTragic: Oh, so it''s a localized Villain! (Mod)Seagullag: Privacy stuff! No investigating! MagicIsTragic: Sorry, dad. KillLaKrill: Ouch, right in the age. (Mod)Seagullag: I''m not ashamed of my age. I''m an experienced man who went through a lot of things, why should I worry about how old I am. KillLaKrill: Do you still have hair? Or head feathers? KillLaKrill has been muted by Moderator Seagullag for 60 seconds. Reason: Disrespected a mod. MagicIstragic: No talking about the hair, got it. TechnoGogo: I don''t see what''s the big deal with hair. Like, why have strands of useless keratin when you could have nice shiny chrome instead? The Silence: Not everyone here shares your obsession with metallic contraptions and alterations. MagicIsTragic: I agree with the hair thing, but metal? No! I want cool flames instead! Like Pyralis! You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Saray: I don''t see what''s the big deal with her. She doesn''t even sing that well. TechnoGogo: Eh, the visuals of her shows are nice. Otherwise, yeah, not much of note. MagicIsTragic: You heretics! James, help me! JamesIsInTheDark: Again, not a local. I know nothing about your popstars or whatever. MagicIsTragic: But! She''s awesome! JamesIsInTheDark: Good for her, I suppose. Saray: Sorry guys, I have to go. TechnoGogo: Bye Saray! MagicIsTragic: Go have fun, you heathen. The Silence: May your day be uneventful. JamesIsInTheDark: I think I have to go too. Until next time!
Sarah shut down her screen as she put her phone in her pocket. Thankfully for all of the female members of the Hero training program, since the trainee uniform was unisex, they all had pockets. So many pockets... The ginger short girl chuckled as she recalled how Glicer Glitter, the sole member of their trainee group and temporary team that was shorter than her, reacted when she had realized she had pockets everywhere, her hips, her sides, her arms, her shins... "SO MANY SECRET GLITTER CACHES!" The early days of their training had been exhausting. Without taking into account the actual physical training, which none of them were ready for, the long hours of studying the ASC''s laws and Zalcien''s and the various protocols in case of emergencies fried their poor brains. Even Elaimant, who she was pretty sure didn''t have an organic brain and whose body appeared to be made of metal, could barely stand after the first day of training and could only emit white noise for an hour. At least now they knew what to do depending on which alarm rung in the Union''s Headquarters. Depending on the color, tone, rhythm, and even smell - a system put in place for those who were missing any of the other senses - they could mean totally different things. The classic red alarm most people thought of was one of them, and was the general "there''s an emergency, we don''t know much more" one. Of course, not everyone was expected to react to every alarm. Trainees like them weren''t supposed to go on missions yet for example, but even among the professional Heroes, there were different groups. Those specialized in disasters and fires, those specialized in hunting loose monsters, those specialized in dealing with singular powerful targets, those specialized in dealing with multiple weak ones... Despite what most people thought, you couldn''t just throw a Hero at a problem and hope it would get fixed. Otherwise, there would be no point in maintaining a police force or firefighters. Sarah looked around the classroom she was waiting in, taking note of who was already there with her. She always preferred coming in early to classes, it let her have some peace and quiet and she could just use her phone until her teachers would arrive, and this habit stuck to her Hero training. Currently waiting with her was the owl boy whose alias had been switched to Scareowl after Saline, the leader of Zalcien''s branch of the Hero Union, had received a letter from the demonic prince the name Stolos had been inspired by who kindly asked them to drop it or meet him in court, and no one wanted to go to a demonic court of law. He still looked uncomfortable in the trainee uniform, with all of his brown and beige feathers puffed up. During their time together she had learned he actually had a pair of short talons on his wings that he used as fingers, just like he was doing currently as he read his book, some kind of leather tome, probably a grimoire. They weren''t the only two, the sapient pyramidal crystal in a magnetic rainbow bubble floating above a headless humanoid body of various metallic knick-knacks enveloped in a very large white trainee that went by the name Elaimant was with them. She had gotten used to the light humming that he was constantly emitting, and they were a really interesting person to talk to once you got over their odd manner of speaking. "Observation: The others are running late. Again." "We noticed, Elaimant." "I''m sure they''ll be here soon." "Soon isn''t enough, Firefly. In a real emergency, any second wasted-" "-is a life lost. I know." "Observation: Kopper is approaching." "Can you tell if Glicer is with him?" "Answer: No. This one can detect Kopper due to the high levels of metal in his body." "I notice you didn''t ask about Maledicta." "As if miss ''better than you non-drow heathens'' would hang out with him." "Observation: You dislike her, Firefly." "Yes, I do. Heroes are supposed to help people, not be pompous little-" As she was about to finish her phrase Sarah was interrupted by a tall scrawny black teen running into the room, his momentum making him keep on sliding despite having stopped, out of breath "I''m... I''m here... Not late... Whoa..." Behind him walked in a small bubbly pale girl with metaphorical fiery hair - it was always good to be precise - who cheerfully waved at everyone. "Hi guys!" "Hi Glicer, Kopper." "Salutations: Hello, Kopper and Glicer." "You were almost late. Again." "Nice to see... You too... Scareowl..." "Kopper! Don''t tell me you''re exhausted from our little run!" "Glicer... I ran... You flew..." "Flying can be just as tiring." "See? He agrees with me!" "Observation: Scareowl''s flying method is physical, yours is elemental. His is much more taxing than yours, therefore they cannot be compared." "Thanks... Elaimant..." "Continuation: It is true however that your stamina needs improvement. A Hero whose main trait is physical prowess needs the energy required to use their strength effectively. It should be your focus in the following physical training courses." "Oh... Joy..." Glicer giggled whereas Scareowl rolled his eyes. Or more accurately, since owls can''t move their eyes due to having a different structure than eyeballs, vertically turned his head until one eye was right above the other before going back to normal. That had taken some getting used to, but now Sarah found the gesture a little cute. Of course, it was at this specific moment that a robot walked into the room. Its body looked like it was made of silver with a blueish hue, and despite its humanoid body shape, Sarah would be hard-pressed to call it an android. Its limbs were simple thin bars with thicker and more complex joints and articulations, with a bulky and angular chest as well as a head that looked like a security camera, a horizontal rectangle with a black sphere of glass that contained its eye. Its large yet dexterous hands had a regular thumb and two thick fingers, though Sarah knew those could split further into a total of seven fingers per hand, and similarly, its feet were normally toeless but could split into four dexterous talons each, with such flexibility that they could go from the front to the back of the foot with no worries. "Greetings, Heroes in training." The group stood and placed their right fist on their hearts before pushing that same arm forward, showing the robot their palms with their fingers spread wide, the Hero Union''s official salute. ""For justice!"" The robot stared at them with its singular eye, analyzing their posture and looking for the smallest mistake. "Satisfying salute. At ease." Sarah, Scareowl, and Elaimant sat down, already at their desks, whereas Kopper Kid and Glicer Glitter had to take a couple of steps to be ready at their desks. "Trainee Maledicta is late. Noting down." Kopper sighed with relief to have arrived on time, whereas Glicer didn''t seem to realize how lucky she was. There was no arguing against a Legion, only giving your reasons and hoping someone would check the file. Legions such as the one standing before them were the faceless workers of the Union. To cover up Hero identities the Union employed many civilians, whether directly in its Headquarters or one of its numerous subbranches like themed restaurants and merchandising, but when it came to the truly important jobs that didn''t need specialized Supers to be completed, the Legions were in. Monitoring Villain activity and Internet forums? Legions. Creating machines and building secret bases based on the plans of Mind Aspected personnel? Legions. Fighting waves of zombies to let the civilians flee and the Heroes deal with the source of the threat? Legions. The Legions were made in and distributed by the Main Headquarters of the Union and each had a self-destruct program to avoid capture, to be sure no Villain would ever be able to take one and impersonate the Union. The Legions were neither sapient nor sentient, to ensure perfect calm and loyalty to the cause. Everything they did was the result of careful calculations that occurred faster than most people could think, and despite being made in bulk and meant to be disposable their construction was flawless, making the Legions incredibly resistant and powerful. If she had to be honest, Sarah would probably lose to a Legion in a serious fight. They had yet to go into Super versus Super fight, but she could already guess their first opponents would probably be Legions now that she thought about it. "We will now go over the best method to handle a fire. We will go over different scenarios, and you will each have to answer first individually and then as a group on the best course of action. Your choices will be analyzed and noted." As the lesson began, Sarah thought back to the latest addition to the HardCored Chatroom, or at least the latest addition she was aware of and interacted with every so often. James was surprisingly both very open and very secretive, and though she could guess why she didn''t want to assume anything. Still, she would ask her uncle and a Legion about any recent incident regarding a Villain attack against a civilian who fought animals or anything of the sort. Not to know where James was, of course, no, she just didn''t feel right knowing there could be a Villain out there that could harm her friend. Well, friend. He was nice, and she really liked talking to him whenever he was online, but that was more or less the extent of their relationship. Internet friends were still friends, but she hadn''t known him that long. Maybe they could try to play a game online together, all of the usual members of the public Chatroom in a friendly competition? They hadn''t done that in a while. "Firefly, your turn." "Ah, yes!" Chapter 61 : New in the neighborhood In the depths of Zalcien, below its putrid slums, in the ruins of the Sunken City, stood a small tower. It was a classic cylinder of grey cobblestone three floors high, topped by a pointy roof of purple tiles with a thin black metallic chimney that let out pink fumes. The thing looked out of place in a relatively modern city despite it having laid abandoned for a century, so it didn''t take a stroke of genius to realize the structure had been built much more recently. Behind the door of oak that was the single entrance to the tower, on its very first floor, one would find a small room with a large stone bowl in its center filled with hellish flames, constantly shifting from a warm golden glow to a purple chilling one, as though two creatures fought to direct the contained inferno. The bowl itself was covered in carvings of demonic figures fighting with beings of pure fire. Besides the magical construct, the rest of the room was relatively simple, a small stone table and chair set, some cooking implements made of black iron, and some cabinets, all in all, the room looked like a medieval mix of a pantry, a kitchen and a living room. The floor above was a much more intriguing sight. It looked like a mad man''s lab, with herbs and crystals of all sorts placed in bowls that were left to dangle in the air from chains attached to the ceiling seemingly at random, tables made to fit in with the curve of the wall, and covered in odd trinkets, mysterious bones and various colors of chalks, a strange contraption of black metal housing an open space, the bottom of which was covered with charcoal, and with a singular tube coming out of to the top into the ceiling, countless candles placed everywhere burning with impossible colors that seemed to shift whenever they were left unseen as magical energies flew around in random yet familiar patterns... And in the middle of this chaotic laboratory stood an old man. He wore mystical robes of red silks covered in a pattern of violet fire, with large sleeves that ended at the elbow with golden threads and hanged down to his waist. A golden sash tied his robes shut, hiding most of his body and only letting his arms and head exposed, though it did nothing to hide his sickly thin shape, as though he had fasted for weeks if not months. His long pure white hair was in stark contrast with his tan skin, even more so as it darkened into black hands with eerily thin fingers. His long thin face was covered in wrinkles, and beneath his prominent cheekbones, his pointy chin ended in a long yet thin white beard with a black tip, a goatee that turned into a wick. His eyes were closed, hiding them from view. The man raised his arms high above his head and clapped his hands without a sound before slowly spreading them out his arms, wisps of orange energies connecting his fingers and forming an ethereal arch as he spread his limbs further and further apart. As his arms stood perfectly perpendicular to his body, he opened his eyes in a flash of pink energy, a bolt of the same force leaving his golden irises to strike the arc at its peak, shattering it into a thousand gold pieces that began to fly around in the room before converging into a single green cyan crystal the size of a fist in a bowl in front of the man. The crystal glowed as more and more pieces entered it, the sheer brightness escaping it overcoming its natural color to become pure white. And in a flash, the crystal was back to normal, a simply cyan mineral. Above the crystal, however, floated a ghostly representation of the tower''s surroundings. Mesker - for that was the wizard''s name - rubbed his wick of a beard as he examined the results of the scrying spell. He had no real enemy to speak of and therefore saw no use in scrying all the time, but a monthly checking of the local area was a nice way to keep track of things. His tower was just as usual, although he noted a small weakening in the wards he employed to keep it out of intruders'' perception. He would have to rectify that soon, it wasn''t urgent but he hated putting things off for later. Procrastination was a terrible foe, and it was all too easy to succumb. With a flick of his wrist, the image shifted and offered a much greater view of this part of the Sunken City, though it wasn''t anywhere near covering the entirety of its surface beneath the slums, only his district at best. It was less detailed too, of course, and wasn''t much better than a paper map would be in what it showed were it not for its ability to sense energies. With this neat little trick, Mesker could hazard a guess as to the ongoings of his surroundings based on the uses of magic, as well as life and death energies. Everything seemed to be just as usual. He was quite thankful this area of the Sunken City was this calm, territorial disputes rarely occurred and thieves and upstarts were rare. In his humble opinion, this little place was probably the calmest area of all Zalcien, which is why he let down his guard and embarrassedly almost missed a shift in the usual results. Mother Greenheld''s Orphanage. A cursed place inhabited by a powerful spirit with the odd trait of being filled with both death and life energy, making it highly resistant to both. Due to this, the local mana had always been tainted by death, with some sparks of life mixed in, but the results he was getting now went even further. The death energies had slightly increased, but life had improved even more. This on its own could simply have been the result of the spirit growing stronger and more attuned with one of its aspects, but what really took the cake was the entirely new energy filling the place. On his map, the green and white of life and death were nothing compared to the overwhelming darkness. It occupied the entire building, shadows so deep he almost confused them for an absent reading. Sprinkled in the shadows were some light pieces of other energies, life, death, fire, water, lightning, earth, metal, and even some light. But the one that caught Mesker''s eye more than the rest was the one he felt resonating through his very bones despite being just as weak as the rest. Whatever that shadow was, a tiny, minuscule, insignificant part of it was demonic in nature. It didn''t take long before Mesker was out of his tower, a satchel full of various ingredients he could need in a ritual strapped to his shoulder. In a flick of his wrist, the oaken door closed behind him before he sent a red ember into the covered sky of the Sunken City, remotely guiding it as close to the abandoned orphanage as he felt safe before letting it fall a minute later. As soon as the ember hit the ground, it burst into a pillar of golden and purple flames from which Mesker emerged. Teleportation through spatial manipulation was an incredibly hard feat, but good magic practitioners always designed some trick to simulate it much more easily. It wasn''t as safe or impressive to those gifted in the arts, but the average person could still appreciate the theatrics. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Of course, the two who stood a hundred meters away from the entrance gate of the orphanage weren''t average people. They merely raised their eyebrows as the old wizard stepped out of the flames and let them die down behind him. To his left was the tall figure of a woman, a good head taller than him, with skin that was darker than his - except for his hands, of course - and covered in rippling muscles. She stared at him with her green eyes through her thin black glasses with her arms crossed, the right one sticking out due to his cybernetic nature, made of white metal with transparent conducts filled with a glowing cyan liquid that acted respectively as veins and blood. She wore a blue jumpsuit covered with stains of various colors with the sleeves pulled up and a pair of thick black boots. Her glasses had an odd addition, in the middle of each lens was a blue circle connected to the rims by thin blue lines. To his right was another humanoid figure, though an unusual one. Its feet were digitigrade, standing on its toes as an animal would, its arms were long enough that at rest its hands reached its knees, its skin was bone white and its neck was thrice as tall as the average human''s would be, leading to a head that was slightly too wide, the side rising until they pierced the skin and the skull formed a pair of horns, giving it a flattened "V" shape. Its bulbous eyes were pitch-black, its nostrils small holes, its ears a pair of floppy things hanging down to its shoulders, and its upper lip was a long and muscled thing, covering the lower half of its face with ease and hiding its mouth. To add to the creature''s weirdness, it wore a pair of short black torn jeans, ending slightly below the knees, a white shirt with a black realistic skull motif on it, and over that a black leather jacket with small metallic spikes on the shoulders, as though it was a biker that had turned into a monster. Its hands were currently inside its jeans'' pockets, and around their arms were coiled iron chains. Mesker joined the two, embers floating from the remains of his teleportation and coalescing into a golden wooden staff, ending in a carving of a flame at the top. "Marie. Motiro." "Mesker." The three stood side by side as they stared at the orphanage ahead. Much had changed since the last time any of them had seen it. Everything had become a darker and improved version of its past self, the iron of the gate had turned into what appeared to be black steel, and the walls of the buildings that had once been a dirty beige with broken spots exposing red bricks had been replaced by a black surface akin to marble, perfectly smooth and with no cut. The broken windows were pristine once more, fixed with tainted glass that hid everything from view, even from Mesker''s passive magical sight. The wood of the door was a dark thing, reminding Mesker of Blackwood. High above, the sign that had once shown the broken name of the orphanage had changed too. Shadow Den. "You sure took your time, Mesker." "You''re late, wizard." "Oh, how nice to know you two took the time to wait for me. Surely it has nothing to do with the threat of potential magical defenses?" "Nah, I just arrived. My guys don''t come around here usually, because of, you know, the whole ghost stuff, so it took us a while and a broken GPS to notice." "And you, Motiro?" "A cub grew overconfident and thought he could impose his will on his packmates if he spent the night here. His sister picked him up before he got himself killed and told me about the change. And you, wizard?" "My monthly scrying showed a change in the magical energies. Which means I have intel to share." "For a price." "Of course." "Ugh, what do you want? You know I only have technological stuff." "Oh, for you, money will do." "The usual fee?" "Of course, I am a fair man, no need to raise my prices. Motiro, what do you have for me today?" "I still have the werewolves, the goblins, the orc, and the harpy twins." "What about the kobold?" "She chose to leave the pack and do her own thing. Same for the owl." "Curses, that draconic blood was good. Nothing new?" "Nothing with magical proprieties. Well, there is one thing, but it''ll cost you, wizard." "Even with what I know?" "A hydra runt. Still a hatchling, only a few weeks out of the egg. Non-sapient." "Curses. What do you want?" "For a flask of blood, you share your intel and reapply the wards back at home. ALL the wards." "You... Which color is the hydra?" "Green, yellow belly. Red eyes. The egg was white." "Curses, a pureblood sylvan hydra. Fine, you get your warding." The pale creature chuckled as the woman, Marie, glared at it. "Now, to ensure we all get what we want..." Mesker''s staff began to glow at the tip, and the wizard pulled the brightness out with his free hand, turning it into a scroll of parchment that he unfurled to reveal a magical contract. "As usual, the standard bindings. I uphold my word, you both uphold yours - within a reasonable timeframe. The deal will be fair and in case the contract deems the exchange wasn''t of equal value, then we will all be notified of the changes it wishes to enact." Marie rolled her eyes and Motiro scoffed as both pushed their right thumb onto the scroll, their names appearing in blue and white next to Mesker''s on the bottom of the parchment. "It''s a pleasure to do business with you. Now, is there anything either of you might want to add before we begin?" "Nope." "Nothing either." "Well, I suppose it''s my turn. I don''t know what happened here, but I know that the ambient death and life energy levels rose, especially the latter. Which, in my humble opinion, means that either the local spirit got stronger and focused on life or living entities have settled here." "That''s it?" "I think your flask turned into a drop." "Of course that''s not all! The youth has no patience these days. I also noticed a peak of shadow mana and considering the new look of the place I assume everything has been replaced or enchanted somehow." "Uh uh. Even I would be able to guess that." "Two drops." "I also picked up a lot of various energies and mana types sprinkled throughout the place. Not as specific items, but instead diluted in the shadow mana. Including something demonic." The two widened their eyes at these words. "What." "You deserve your flask." "I propose we all go. I am an expert when it comes to demonic forces, Motiro you are a beast in combat, and Marie you can deal with any technical problem that may arise." "You say that like I can''t do anything else, twiggy." "I didn''t hear a ''no''." "Fine. But I''m not here to pick up a fight. We check what''s going on, and if it''s not urgent we come back later." "I see no issue with this plan. Motiro?" "Scouting is best in a small group, but more than that and you need a pack." "Alright. We sneak around, look for anything suspicious or demonic, try to figure out who''s in charge and then we leave. We''ll meet up to discuss and debate what to do about what we learned another day. Is that fine with everyone?" "Sure." "I agree." "You could always knock." Mesker, Marie, and Motiro all turned their heads in an instant and stared in shock and apprehension at the mysterious figure that had stealthily joined them. Its upper half was roughly humanoid, with a torso and a featureless head, but beneath it thinned down into a singular point that turned into some sort of black smoke on the ground. "Salutations, it is a pleasure to meet my neighbors. Let me introduce myself, I am Silhouette, and I will be your host. Would you like to join us for a light appetizer?" Chapter 62 : In the Shadow Den Mesker, Marie, and Motiro stared at the living shadow in front of them. The wizard raised his staff and readied a fireball in his free hand, scrutinizing the entity before him with his magical senses to try to figure out what it was and what it could do while the cyborg''s mechanical white arm had its veins glowing even more ready to defend herself if the thing tried anything and the pale beast released long black claws from its fingers and snarled, its long muscled upper lip rising to reveal its uncanny human mouth, too wide and with teeth that were too pointy. Seeing that the newcomer stood still and the surrounding magical energies didn''t shift, Mesker risked talking to it. "Who are you?" "As I said, my name is Silhouette. I am your new neighbor." "You seem awfully nonchalant for someone facing three opponents." "Oh? From what I heard, you wished to avoid violence unless necessary. Why should I be afraid of you if none of us wishes to fight?" Motiro scoffed, but relaxed its claws and let them recede back into its fingers. "Why waste energy fighting when no one would benefit." "Exactly. Now, if this little hiccup is over, I would love to discuss our common future with you inside. I can even have my men prepare a light collation if you wish." Marie and Mesker exchanged a look before depowering their respective weapons, the cyan veins of her white cybernetic arm returning to their usual weaker glow while the fireball he held dispersed into embers that flickered out as they fell. "I hope you won''t take offense if I make you sign a little contract?" "Let me guess, something that guarantees your safety within my walls while ensuring you won''t wreak havoc either?" "Exactly. It''s magical in nature, so no cheating." "Out of sheer curiosity, is it impossible to go against its terms or merely heavily punished?" "Only punished, I suppose. It would take forces beyond my own to form an unbreakable contract, but I believe a guaranteed painful death and a cursed mark placed onto the soul are good enough deterrents." "What sort of mark?" "Something that makes coming back from the dead harder, and which tends to attract demons." "Simply harder?" Mesker shrugged. "Coming back from the dead is an impressive feat, against something like that the best a mortal can do is mess with the odds. Make the energy cost higher, the processes more unstable..." "A lone man cannot stop a tank barehanded, but he can act as an obstacle." "If you say so. I only hope your curiosity about the side effects of a broken contract does not mean you had any plans to go against your word." "Of course not. I am a man of my word." Marie groaned as Mesker and Silhouette talked. "Mesker, just give him one of your scrolls already. I don''t have all day and I''d rather be sure I won''t die within the next minutes." Mesker rolled his eyes as he pulled out another scroll from the light emitted by the tip of his staff and handed it to the shadowy figure who grabbed it with a tentacle that grew out of the cloud of dark smoke on the ground and unfurled it with another tentacle growing out of the first. "Temporary non-aggression pact... No harming each other or our minions or superiors or loved ones... No poison or curses or tracking... No hypnosis or mental manipulation or illusion... Yes, this is satisfying." As Silhouette confirmed his intent to respect the contract, black ink left his tentacles where they held the scroll and flowed to the bottom, spiraling into a pulsing black vortex on the parchment before settling down into black letters that spelled out Silhouette''s name beneath Mesker''s own. He casually passed it to Marie and Motiro who simply pressed a finger against it like they had done earlier and their names appeared next to the other two, ignorant of Mesker''s frown as he stared at the spot the black had settled in. "Now then, let me guide you inside. It is my duty as your host." The three of them eyed him warrily for a moment and exchanged a look but, since he had signed the contract, shrugged before walking after him as he glided on the ground toward the black metallic gate of the orphanage''s entrance. As the group approached it the gate opened by itself, the spiky and barred contraption letting them in before closing back shut as soon as they passed. Marie quickly tried to analyze it with her modified glasses but couldn''t detect any sign of technology, which meant any detection and motorization was either too technologically advanced or cloaked for her to detect or it was magical. She turned to Mesker who shook his head, having failed to see any sort of ward or enchantment or runic structure. Motiro scoffed. "Polite ghosts." "Oh, I wouldn''t use the little ones in such a manner and their caretakers are far too busy keeping them in check to help in a casual matter." The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Motiro''s head tilted, its long ears flopping around as it did so. It looked ready to ask another question but they had already reached the double blackwood doors of the main building''s entrance, and once more it opened before any of them had a chance to touch it with no one else waiting behind it, but this time Mesker had been ready and on the lookout, and he noticed how a connection formed between their host and the doors. Silhouette casually glided in, uncaring about any doubts his guests might have. Mesker was the first to follow, intrigued by the overwhelming mana saturation in the building, with Motiro and Marie not far behind. The insides of the building were just as dark as the outside, with blackwood and black marble, though Mesker noted an abundance of everlanterns lit by dark flames, ones that he knew stored darkness instead of emitting light, an odd magical feature he had once observed in a subspecies of troglodyte fire imps. The trio was quickly guided to a small office next to the entrance where three seats faced a remarkably well-made desk, a window letting them clearly see the outside world despite the glass being completely black on the outside. "Please, take a seat. I have some business to attend to, but I''ll be back to you in a second. In the meantime, I''ll have one of my men bring in that collation I offered. Any specific demands or allergies?" "Something to drink for me. No alcohol though, the arm doesn''t like it." "Meat." "No cheese. Anything but cheese." Silhouette nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Mesker and Marie reacted at the same time, the first one''s staff glowing and releasing a wave of energy as the second pressed something beneath her jumpsuit at her waist, the both of them creating a safe space for them to talk through magical warding and technological jamming respectively. "He seems... Reasonable. Mesker, anything demonic?" "Not one item specifically, but there is a faint undertone to everything. A very faint one, the same way a wooden cabin still has remnants of life energy in its walls, but it''s there. If I had to hazard a guess I''d say our host has some demonic ancestry and it slipped its way through his powers." "Should we be worried?" "No, I don''t think so. I''ve seen imps with more demonic power than that. I was afraid what I detected was a demon''s attempt at stealth, but now I know that is not the case." "Nice, no need to worry about any horned maniac. No offense Motiro." "None taken, cyborg. Wizard, I noticed black flames on the way here. You''re the expert." "Those are everlanterns, they are fed by their owner''s mana once and then completely autonomous. Depending on the mana''s type and potency they might have different effects, such as those black flames. They produce no light or warmth but instead absorb the surrounding darkness." "Is there a difference?" "Even I can tell you that, beastie. Those things are basically black holes instead of being stars." "In an incredibly roundabout way, yes, though they''re nowhere near as powerful as a black hole might be. On average the difference between those and regular flames is minimal, and regular flames might even be more beneficial since they produce warmth, but there is still a notable difference. For example, a plant couldn''t use photosynthesis since there is no light, creatures who can''t stand light would be able to see just fine, and someone with some sort of umbramancy or tenebromancy would be able to use it to manipulate those flames whereas a pure pyromancer couldn''t." "Could you?" "Of course. I''m not one of these fools of Wicked Witchcraft who only research the best way to make something explode. Pyromancy is an art, and unlike them, I know how to use more than one color. Still, it would be hard, they already are attuned to someone else''s mana signature." "I have a good guess as to whom." "Yes, yes. What about you?" "I detected some devices, but nothing major. Mostly tools and weapons, if my readings are correct, but everything is a little muddled." "Something to do with the ambient mana, I believe. Or maybe enchantments, though until a good look at such an item I can''t know for sure. And you, Motiro? Did you notice anything?" "The scents of half a dozen people, as well as a lot of corpses." "Curses." "Old corpses. Multiple years, if not decades. Things too rotten to be of any use. They were moved recently. My guess is they cleaned out the place a few days ago." "I see, so nothing to be worried about?" "Nothing more than what we saw." "Well boys, look like our new neighbor is an ok guy." "So far. We still do not know about his plans for this place or what sort of operation he runs. I assume neither of you wants to live near a slave trafficker, no matter how civil and polite." "Yeah yeah. I''m not saying I trust him, twiggy, only that so far he''s the best guy who decided to settle down nearby." "Not that many of them tried. No good business or hunt nearby." Mesker considered his allies'' words as a light knock occurred at the door. Without waiting for an answer a man stepped in, wearing some leather clothes with some homemade patches of armor on the chest and limbs, as well as an approximation of some special force''s helmet. In his hands, he carried a tray with three glasses, two bottles of water, and two bowls of snacks. "Hello there, here are your snacks!" He put the tray down on the desk before pointing to one of the bowls. "This one is fried cockroaches, and the other one is toad jerky. Now, it may sound weird, but I swear those are actually pretty good. Sorry, we don''t have anything better, we''re still moving in and getting everything ready and the boss thought that snacks weren''t a priority." "Do not worry, we are used to the unorthodox. The Sunken City may be a haven for those like us compared to what goes on above, but we are still in the slums. In an area that does not see much activity, yours especially." "Say boyo, what do you think of your boss?" "Oh, he''s a good guy. He takes care of us, he''s patient, he''s paying me better than any of my past employers..." "No anger issue or violent tendency?" "Nah, he''s chill. He''s not fond of the whole fighting thing." "Aren''t you worried that means he''s weak?" "Ohohoh, oh, no. I saw the stuff he can do." "Oh? What sort of stuff?" It was at that point that their host returned, Silhouette gliding into the room and casually passing between the trio''s seats, his body contorting in odd ways to avoid touching them as he went behind the desk and shifted his body, as though he was sitting on an invisible chair. Mesker idly noted that their host no longer had a cloud of black smoke following him on the ground, and instead a singular foot, like a snail. "I''m sorry for taking so long. Our relocation is still recent and I rarely have the time to sit down." Mesker cleared his throat, trying to bring Silhouette''s attention to himself rather than Marie who had just been trying to extract info from the man''s minion. "Oh, do not worry. I work alone, but my two friends here complain all the time about the downsides of leadership." "Ahah, yeah. There''s always a guy that wants you to do something, ya know?" "The pack leader must be strong, but so must his mind. So many petty fights..." Silhouette chuckled. "Ah, but there is no better sign of being a good leader than being busy. Luckily my people have had no infighting so far. Which reminds me, you may go." The man who had carried in the tray nodded and left, making sure to salute before he closed the door once he was out of the office. "Lovely lad." "Thank you. Now, I''m sure we have a lot to talk about. Maybe some business relationships, even." At that, a similar gleam went through each of the trio''s eyes. They may still have had doubts about Silhouette, they may have tolerated and even respected and appreciated each other, but in the Sunken City, no one was immune to the call of greed. Silhouette leaned forward and formed a pair of arms out of his sides that he put down on the desk, hands clasped together. "So, what do you wish to discuss?" Chapter 63 : Contracts Comfortably installed in the first-floor office of the orphanage, the three local noteworthy individuals of the surrounding area - Mesker the wizard, Marie the cyborg, and Motiro the beast - talked with their latest neighbor and host, Silhouette. "So, what''s your business blackie? Drugs? Arms? Contraband?" "Maybe something more intriguing than those basic frivolities. Artifacts? Ingredients? Reagents?" "Mercenaries?" The black figure facing the trio chuckled, an act Marie found somewhat uncanny since he only emitted the noise and none of the movement. "I have to admit I am still setting up our operation. Our main goal is to create a safe haven for ourselves, anything beyond that is only a way to secure our future or funds. Though I must admit, we are currently working on the production and distribution of a new gadget." "Oh? Don''t leave us hanging, what''s your shiny new trick?" "Electroguns. My lead inventor is currently working on new and improved designs, as well as other products. Last I heard he was mumbling something about an individual shield." "Electroguns? Sorry to be the one to tell you but these things have been around for a while. They''re pretty easy to make too." "Ah, but ours are of superior quality. Not only that, but we have a system put in place to make them more viable. If your electrogun''s battery is empty, you may bring it back to us and we''ll replace it with a new one, free of charge." "Uh, neat. I''m guessing you have something to charge them?" "That''s a secret." "Right. Well, it ain''t that interesting for me, but I appreciate the effort. I''m sure the guys up there will like having something to fend off monsters if they don''t already have one." Mesker nodded as he pinched his thin wick-like beard between his fingers white Motiro simply shoved dried cockroaches and pieces of toad jerky into its mouth, its long upper lip raised and revealing its strange wide mouth with sharpened human teeth to make the process easier. Seeing with how much gusto the white beast was eating Marie snatched up some toad jerky and began to chew on it. "I concur, such an item is of no use to me but the commonfolk will treasure it. But I must admit I am surprised. Considering the ambient magical energies, I assumed you would not resort to technology." "Oh, I''m sorry to disappoint you. But, now that you mention it, I might be convinced to part with some of my shadow-infused materials, if you are interested." "Oh, how intriguing. Which begs the question, how come you have in your possession such important quantities of enchanted materials? Especially enough to rebuild an entire building from scratch. Unless you found a way to harness enough shadow mana to reproduce a sped-up version of the natural process, but I doubt someone with such a technique would be down there." When Silhouette spoke again, there was an edge to his voice, something more felt than heard. "Again, it''s a trade secret. One you will not investigate." Mesker noticed the shadows in the room grew sharper, slowly extending their reach. The wizard knew they had all signed a contract with non-aggression as a clause, and from what he''d seen of the man he believed he was reasonable enough not to try and breach it, but the pyromancer knew when not to push. Morito, however, stilled and stopped eating for a second. Its eyes widened slightly as it stared at Silhouette. "Fair, fair. In any case, I must admit you have my interest. I believe you may have already yourself a buyer for those materials." The shadows settled down and Motiro returned to its feast of snacks as though nothing had happened. "And you, Motiro was it? Is there anything you wish to inquire about us or want to offer?" "No trade, but a request. If you find any trapped or lost pups, bring them to me." "I will keep it in mind. Now, I can''t help but notice we''ve only been talking about me thus far. What do my lovely neighbors do in these parts?" "You first twiggy." "Yes, yes. I am Mesker Duskenfer the Third, scholar, pyromancer, demonologist. I research the magical arts and try to keep this area demon-free. If you are ever in need of help in magical or demonic matters I am available for hire, though do note that my time is precious, therefore my prices are high. Marie?" "Sure, twiggy. The name''s Marie Musaraigne, you have something broken you need fixed, I''m your gal. My specialty is cybernetics as you can see but I can tinker with a little bit of everything." "Would you be able to repair and improve the orphanage''s electric system? I can handle the problem of a power source on my own, but an engine without a car is of little use." "Sure, if you''ve got the cash blackie." "Oh, have I mentioned I also offer my services as a contract enforcer? It''s always useful when you let someone modify your home. Or when you buy something from them that ends up exploding and destroying your bed." "Oh come on twiggy, it was one time! And a newbie''s fault!" Motiro huffed as it shoveled some more questionable snacks into its mouth before talking. "Motiro. Beast. Hunter. Raider. Tracker. You need an animal dead or alive, come to us. You need a location looted, we take half of the spoils. You need to find something that''s alive and trying to flee, we will find it within the week." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "I see. I shall keep it in mind. Now then, are any rules or traditions I should be aware of? I assume you already guessed, but I''m not from around these parts." "Yeah, there''s a few. So first off..."
Sam, still covered in bandages beneath his clothes, walked side by side with a pitch-black humanoid in the dark alleys surrounding the Black Block. The two of them hadn''t talked much since his boss had come by while he was in the middle of developing a personal electromagnetic shield to accompany him to the Doctor''s Drake visit. Apparently, he was busy doing something and needed to concentrate, and although Sam didn''t see him actively doing anything he had come to learn enough about his employer that he knew he was probably telling the truth. Knowing it didn''t make the situation any less awkward, however. It wasn''t the first time Sam saw his boss in his young adult mode, he had brought him to the clinic that way after all, but it was still odd to see the eldritch shadow monster he knew as a regular guy. He had also taken him aside and kindly asked him to keep it secret, which the teen agreed to of course. Sam gazed at his casual walk and wondered which of James and Silhouette was the real person and which was the persona. And of course, it was at this exact point that apparently his boss finished up whatever he was doing and stopped running on auto-pilot, his faceless head almost snapping toward Sam''s in a second. "Sorry, it took longer than I thought." "Uh, no problem." "So, are you excited about getting tested?" "Sure." "You don''t sound that enthusiastic." "Sorry bo- James, it''s just... I''ve my entire life without knowing what makes me tick. I know that knowing my Aspects will be a good thing, it''s just that I managed without it so far." "You''re happy it''s happening, but would have been okay never knowing." "Yeah, that''s it. And you? You signed up to be tested too, right? I''d figured someone like you would already know." "It''s... Complicated. Well, it''s not, but I don''t like talking about it. Let''s just say this test is more important to me than it is to you." "If you say so." The two kept on walking, navigating through the labyrinthine alleys of the slums under the cover of the various improvised wooden platforms and paths the local gangs used to guard their territory, taking care to avoid any potential encounter with ruffians or thieves. James had a bad experience with those. A deadly one, one might say. "It''s weird." "What is?" "This. Walking with you, having a home with other people, working for someone..." "I take it you''ve only worked on your own before?" "Yeah. I''m from the Junkland, there ain''t that many permanent residents there you can talk to. It''s mostly broken robots, monsters, and scavengers. Even then you can''t trust the people there, they''d do anything for better loot. The few that can behave well enough to work in groups are either tribalistic lunatics or trigger-happy maniacs." "Yes, I can see why having a social life there would be hard. But despite all that, you tried to become a Vigilante." "Yeah. I suppose I did." "Don''t beat yourself down. Frankly, had you not met Sunburn, I''m sure you''d be one of the big players around here." "Nah. I''m a genius, sure, but just one guy. I don''t have The Empress'' armies. What was I going to do on my own against the scum of the slums?" "Your best." "Doing your best isn''t enough. Not here." "I disagree. Just think of Larry and Barry, they may not be the most incredible men out there but they survived on their own in the slums, Coreless and factionless, for years. They did their best, and they did great. Relatively." "You know getting compared to those two ain''t a compliment?" "I''ll pretend I didn''t hear anything." "Eh, if you want to. By the way, if you don''t mind me asking, what were you doing on the way here?" "Oh, a nifty little trick I learned while the Shadow Commando and I got the Shadow Den ready." "Shadow Den? Really?" "Do you want to file a Tech Complaint, Techlord?" "No." "Good. Besides, they came up with it, not me. And the kids loved it, I wasn''t going to crush their hopes." "The ratlings?" "The ghosts. The kids'' ghosts, to be precise. The nuns weren''t fond of the idea but Greenheld told them to let it go." "I still can''t believe you decided a haunted orphanage would make a good base, and that somehow you managed to recruit the local spirits." "What can I say, I was polite and Greenheld appreciated it." "But anyway, what was the trick?" "Oh, before I came back up to get you, we had a visit from our new neighbors." "Really? ''A visit from our new neighbors''?" "They tried to sneak in and I caught them." "Now that''s more like it." "Either way, I invited them, signed a magical contract to make sure no one would try anything against anyone else, and then had them wait in the first office I could find so that I could get things ready." "Are you going to tell me what''s the trick yet?" "You see, while repairing the orphanage there were a lot of things to ''improve'', so I wondered if I could make use of some of our latest additions. Namely, Solvent." "Don''t tell me you possessed the slime you corrupted." "No, no, nothing of the sort. I merely established some kind of telepathic link with them to tell them what to say and sense what''s happening around them." "That sounds like possession." "It''s not. It''s mind control at best." "You know it ain''t that much better, right?" "Hush now. In any case, Solvent also got some of my abilities, so I used them to infuse the orphanage quicker and then as a body double to handle negotiations while we got ready for our examination." "Yup. Still weird." It was at that point that the two reached Doctor Drake''s clinic, they went in and went straight to see the titular doctor who was currently - just like last time - reading at what should have been the secretary''s desk, the odd hybrid of duck and draconic beast lowering her magazine as soon as she heard them open the door and placing it down, readjusting her perfectly round glasses'' temples in the spots between her lower and upper pairs of horns. "Misters James and Techlord. It''s good to see you. You are in luck, your tests arrived earlier this morning." "Hello, Doctor Drake, it''s good to see you too. I can''t wait to begin, as soon as we get some privacy of course." "Yeah. What he said." "Superb. Follow me then." She rose from her seat and stood straight, her head barely higher than Sam''s chest without the horns, and walked deeper into the clinic, toward one of the examination rooms. The two young men followed her as her palmed feet lightly flopped on the ground inside her custom white shoes. Before long the three of them were seated around a desk, a pair of small long white boxes on the side. "Are either of you aware of how this procedure takes place?" James turned to Sam who simply shrugged. "A bit? I know there''s a needle." She winced at that. "Not exactly. Due to the various species and mutations around the globe, these tests were made to be as universal as possible. As a practitioner of the more normal medicine, I cannot describe exactly how these tests work since they are mostly magic-based. What I can say is that they harvest a small part of the energies naturally produced by your body and your core, after which it will separate them and provide us with all of your Aspects and Major Affinities. It may even detect some more diluted magical bloodlines, such as demonic or draconic ancestors." Seeing how little Sam cared about the conversation, James chose to take the reins. There was something he was incredibly worried about. "And you guarantee that these tests are secret?" "Why yes, mister James. I have sworn an oath that prevents me from divulging patient information unless the law dictates otherwise or it is a danger to public health and safety, such as carrying a plague or being prone to exploding at the drop of a hat with no control over the process." "Ah. I see." "Is there a problem?" "I hoped this confidentiality would be more... Extreme, let''s say." Doctor Drake narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She didn''t like that answer. "Is there any particular reason why?" "I... I''m afraid of what people may do depending on my results." But I have just the thing to deal with that... "Say, would you be open to signing a pair of contracts?" Chapter 64 : Testing James twiddled his thumbs as he waited for his and Sam''s results. Doctor Drake had been distrusting about the whole magical contract thing and had questioned James on how he had gotten his hands on them, he had refused to answer of course - though perhaps simply telling her a friend would have done the trick, since technically it was a Mischief member who went to get the scrolls for him after Solvent had finished dealing with Mesker. It had taken a lot of pleading and promising the doctor that the two of them would let themselves be taken to a specialized hospital in case their results showcased any uncontrollable threat to the safety of Zalcien, but in the end, she agreed to sign both confidentiality contracts, one between her and Sam and the other between them and James. Sam hadn''t even been bothered by the fact James included him in the contract, he knew that although on this outing they were acting like friends in the end they were still employer and employee. Silhouette had secrets and he wouldn''t risk letting them be divulged. The testing itself was quick. There may not have been a needle involved but the two items still looked like syringes, although bulkier than any James had ever seen in real life and with a solid white barrel rather than a transparent one, he wasn''t exactly sure what it was made of. Beyond that, the syringes'' needles had been replaced by small crystals that looked like stereotypical diamonds. And considering how much I paid for this whole thing, that doesn''t seem too far-fetched... Realistically speaking they were probably some sort of magical stones, but that didn''t matter all that much in the end. Doctor Drake had taken a "syringe" and put the diamond tip on Sam''s skin, at which point the small stone began to glow for a few seconds before it stopped, gaining a blurred gray hue. She had done the same with the other syringe on James, and predictably the crystal became black. She had then stood up and walked to the actual examination room and miniature lab, separated from the more administrative area of the room by half a wall. And here they were, waiting. She had told them the device she used to analyze the results could take some time, especially in case they were complex, whatever that meant. Sam''s eyes, which had been closed so far as he was trying to take a nap, opened wide and stared at James as he idly tapped his foot, his old shoe slowly falling apart as the sole began to detach. "Could you please stop?" He raised his head and looked at him - though the gesture was unnecessary considering how his senses worked, James preferred acting more like a person in his ''human'' form. "What?" "Your foot." James stared down at the troublemaking limb. "Oh. Sorry." "I didn''t think you''d be this stressed." James sighed. "Well, as you can see, I''m not exactly normal. And you know what I can do. What it could mean." At that Sam turned pensive, thinking back to what he knew of Silhouette''s infusion ability and how much it appeared to break the laws of physics, such as vastly improving materials or turning batteries into nigh-infinite power sources when kept in the dark. "Yeah. Yeah..." "..." "..." "..." "So... I''m guessing those contracts come from one of our new neighbors?" "Mesker Duskenfer, some sort of hermit wizard. An agreeable man, although very greedy." "How much?" "Let''s just say I may have to cut down on pastries distribution until the shop is set up and running." "Ouch. And our salaries?" "Still assured." "Good, good." "And you? How are your little projects going?" "It''s... Progressing. An energy shield is a new venture. I''m more used to physical stuff." "You can put the shield project on hold for now and focus on something else if you wish. I''m certain a simple shield that people could fold into an armguard or something similar would be more than enough for them." "No, I have to finish a functional shield prototype first. I''m Techlord, not Techpeasent." "Maybe something one-time use then? It''d be easier to make, plus people would have to come back to recharge it which would increase our profits." "I thought your goal was to better the world, not make money." "It is. But with more funds, we could get better equipment and materials, which means better products. And better salaries for you and the others." "I haven''t talked to them much, but they seem like a nice bunch." "They''re... Quite something. By the way, I wanted to ask, would you want to join us down there?" "Meh, I have what I need where I am. Plus, I can''t help Goliath with stuff if I''m not around." "How is he progressing so far?" "He''s not bad. He has troubles with everything electronic, but he has a tinkerer''s eyes. He''s always planning new gadgets for his siblings. I''d say his biggest problem though is his focus." "How so?" "He jumps from one idea to the other all the time, and whenever he does focus on one thing he always changes his mind somehow. Like that time he wanted to start using those weird tentacles things you have laying around as cables for a machine, before immediately switching gears and designing a pair of electric whips, all of that while I was teaching him about wielding." Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. "It''s good to know he''s having fun. I should probably take some time for them, I''ve just been so busy lately." "Oh, they''ll love it. It''ll also give me a break from all that Captain Cyan stuff." The sound of glass shattering came from the lab hidden behind the wall traveling half the room and the duo immediately stood up, James'' shadow growing longer and various gadgets wiring to life beneath Sam''s clothes, both ready to fight. Just as he got ready to step forward James stopped and sat back down, much to Sam''s confusion. "Doc?" "Im- Impossible..." The woman''s voice was shaky and frightened, seeing his boss wouldn''t go check Sam walked ahead and peeked his head around the corner to make sure the medical professional was safe. "Doc, are you alright?" The draconic duck hybrid stared at the small screen of a white machine in front of her, both of their syringes plugged in lower down. At her palmed feet were shards of broken glass with black marking on them, probably some kind of beaker, and a rag. Had she used the time the machine took to process their results to clean up? "Doc, is there any problem?" Her head snapped toward him, her brown eyes with burning amber slits fixed on his much more regular ones, her jaws grinding her bill shut before she exploded in hysteria. "YES! YOUR FRIEND IS THE PROBLEM!" Of course, it was at that point that James stepped in, carefully walking in the doctor''s view while keeping some distance between them. "Is something wrong with my results, doctor?" "OF COURSE THERE IS! YOU TEST POSITIVE FOR EVERYTHING!" "Everything, doctor?" "EVERYTHING! BODY! MIND! SOUL! MIGHT! WILL! FAITH! EVEN CREATION AND DESTRUCTION, AND LET''S NOT FORGET TRANSFORMATION! HOW?" Sam took a look at his boss and saw him in a new light. A few of those he had guessed, but EVERY Aspect? That... That was something BIG. At least now he knew why his boss was so worried about privacy, he might have not been sure but he had to have had some suspicion of what would happen. James, for his part, could only speak a single word. "Oh." His mind, however, had something else to say. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- "OH? OH? AN ''OH?'' WON''T CUT IT! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS?" Sam shrugged and answered for his boss. "That he''ll have to be careful but he could become the biggest Super this city has ever seen?" "NO! YES! NO! YES!" "Could you make up your mind, doctor? And maybe stop screaming?" "SORRY, I HAVE TO LET IT ALL OUT AND I HAVE VERY GOOD LUNGS!" "No problem. And you, boss? Are gonna say something?" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- "Give a minute, Sam. This... Is a bit much." "Sure, no problem." "Thank you." AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- "So, since I''m compelled to keep all of this secret anyway, can I ask a few questions?" "If you wish. Your contracts involved not making use of anything you''ll learn against me or mine anyway." "Thanks, boss. So, doctor, how rare is this? I''m pretty sure I would''ve heard of it if anyone had every Aspect in Zalcien." "IT DOESN''T HAPPEN! IT''S IMPOSSIBLE! NEITHER CORE NOR VESSEL IS MEANT TO ACCOMMODATE EVERY ASPECT, IT''S LIKE PUTTING EVERY SEA AND RIVER AND POND AND AQUARIUM AND POOL AND WATERFALL IN A SINGULAR GLASS!" "Oh. Well, it ain''t that impossible now, is it?" "THAT''S NOT HOW IT WORKS!" "Doctor, you said both ''vessel'' - I assume the body - and Core can hold Aspects, so where are mine?" "BOTH! SOMEHOW! WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE! AN ASPECT IS HELD IN ONE OR THE OTHER, NOT BOTH!" "That''s... Odd. I don''t think I have a Core. I''ve looked and felt around inside my body multiple times and never felt one." "WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?" I DON''T KNOOOW- "That''s not for you to know, doctor." "YOU! YOU... You..." "Oh, are you done screaming doc? Do you need some water?" "No, thank you... I have something here..." She stood up on the tip of her clawed toes and reached inside a cupboard, opening it and taking out a bottle filled with a clear red liquid she gulped down in one go, massaging her sore throat with her free clawed hand, its orange scales hard to see beneath the transparent latex. Once she was done drinking down the bottle''s content she set it aside, empty, and sighed. "Better. Now then, excuse my lack of professionalism but this sort of thing doesn''t happen every day. It never does, technically, so you can understand my confusion." "I must ask, doctor, does my condition have any negative effect?" "Beyond the broken laws of reality as we know it, no. Somehow you''re not unstable and about to explode if you try to do anything at all, which is a miracle. Normally the more Aspects an individual or item holds the stronger yet fragile it is, if there is any sort of unbalance one Aspect might overtake the others, creating a chain reaction of broken powers that wind up destroying the vessel." "I thought Aspects mixed to create new powers?" "Yes, and that''s where the problem lies. A vehicle that can swim? Easy. One that can also go underwater? Of course, it''s even easier to build than one that can only go underwater. A submarine that flies and goes through lava as well as digs underground and flies in the vast expanse of space? It''s insane, even for a Super with large resources." "I see. Yet you say I don''t suffer from this?" "Yes. If my readings are correct - and at this point, I hope they aren''t and this is just a faulty test - instead of naturally competing against one another your Aspects are disciplined, for a lack of a better term. They each rest independently, waiting and ready for use, though they do appear to be connected. To keep on the theme of metaphors, your Aspects are different nations and for some reason, instead of waging a great war as it goes on any other continent, they all decided to play nice and sign a treaty that formed a great alliance. Which I must state, again, makes no sense." "I... I see. Anything else?" "Well, you have an overwhelming affinity for shadows, and though it doesn''t suppress your other affinities it does restrict them." "In other words?" "Anything you try to do on the magical front will be tainted by shadows. You can''t throw fireballs but you can throw balls of blazing darkness, for example." "Oh." "And, to add onto the bizarreness that is you, you somehow possess every bloodline registered in the system and even some that aren''t." "Which means?" "If this reading is correct, you somehow have draconic, fae, demonic, angelic, spiritual, divine, elemental, undead, unliving, celestial, abyssal, and eldritch ancestry. All at equal levels." "This doesn''t sound healthy." "If you disregard the impossibility of having an undead ancestor in the first place, the rest isn''t that odd. Remnants of them are quite common in many people''s blood, the issue here is that they''re all equal and relatively recent, like great-great-grandparents - which, before you ask, is relatively powerful considering the power behind these bloodlines." "So what you''re saying is that, beyond the obvious threat of people interested in someone with every Aspect, there is no negative impact?" "Not for you, no. But I heavily recommend you go to the Hero Union right now or let me make call them to make sure you are safe." "No, I don''t think I will." Her eyes widened. "Why? This is..." "I quite enjoy my freedom, and since the both of you signed a contract, this secret won''t leave this room." "You... You''re right, I signed a contract, there''s nothing I can do to stop you. But please, please reconsider your choice. Take some time to think about it. This isn''t just about you, mister James." "You''re right, it isn''t, which is exactly why I can''t just go ahead and give myself up to the Union. Good day, doctor." "Uh, bo- James, you forgot my results." "Ah, sorry. Doctor, what are Techlord''s results?" "No significant bloodline, no noteworthy affinity, Mind Aspect. But please, I beg of you-" "Until next time, Doctor Drake." James left, one of his arms elongating to hold onto Sam''s own and drag him outside along with him, all under the worried, scared, and somewhat furious gaze of the doctor. Soon enough their footsteps grew silent and she heard the door of the clinic close shut. Though she had lost her nerve at what she had discovered and had been foolish enough to sign this stupid contract in the first place, the draconic duck hybrid had an idea on how to share her discovery. Aspect tests were costly to make and needed to be heavily cleaned out before they could be used again, a process so intensive that it needed to be done in a specialized facility in the main city, in a subsection of the Union''s Headquarters. As soon as they received her tests sent for cleaning, they would detect something odd and investigate. It was just a matter of time and... Wait, where were the tests? Chapter 65 : Black Block Banter Walking back in the slums'' dark alleys alongside Sam, James nervously played with the two syringe-like contraptions he had hidden in his shadowy body, rolling them over one another like one might do with meditation balls, once more very thankful for his lack of bones and organs. I don''t like stealing from a doctor, but I can''t risk letting these out there. I should probably destroy them once we''re back home. He had been tempted to steal the machine that had analyzed them too, but it was too big for him to do so stealthily. Getting a tentacle to go behind the doctor''s back and catch the tests was already hard enough and he was convinced he only succeeded because she was busy panicking over the results themselves. Besides, he might not have been able to steal it but he had made sure to break it through the spot his test had been inserted in. In the best case, this meant his results were unsalvageable, and that otherwise, the broken spot would make them doubtful. He couldn''t do much more than that. Not yet, anyway, if that thing is right. She said that when people have multiple Aspects they usually fused, maybe I can find some sort of list of every combination to figure out what I could theoretically do? He still had some trouble getting over that. Oh, it had taken a while but he had gotten used to not being human, but he also understood he was just another weirdo in this strange world. In his mind, he was stronger than the average person for sure, and a fair share of Cored too, but in the end, he was just another shmuck in the crowd. He''d get big enough to make his little home in the Sunken City with Polisson directing the lair in the sewers as an outpost to make travel easier, he''d make a small business with the shop to earn enough money to live comfortably and pay his employees, he''d maybe recruit a few more people and offer shelter to others and maybe after a few years of this, he''d get to settle down in the main city with a new shop and live a worry-free life with its income along with the ratlings, maybe he''d even find them a trainer to see if they couldn''t get a chance at becoming Heroes if they still wanted to. But now? Now he knew he had the potential to join the major players. Maybe not those who shaped the fate of the country or even the world, but his unique Aspect setup was still enough to promise a future of important choices, not only for himself but for those close to him too. Who knew, maybe despite this he could stick to his initial plan, having incredible powers didn''t mean he had to use them after all, he didn''t have any uncle to tragically die in front of his eyes to hammer in the message that power meant responsibility. But what would the kids say? "So, what now?" Sam''s voice interrupted James'' musing, something he was quite thankful for. The teen was taking the news quite well, now that he thought about it. "Now, I still have some things to take care of. Hopefully, Maltodextrin found someone willing to sell their shop. I can drop you back home first if you want." "Nah, I''ll be fine. It''s nice to see the sky for a change." "We could try to move the workshop up there if you want." "Don''t worry. I like the extra safety of the sewers, and again, I like to be with the kids. Speaking of which, maybe you should get them tested at some point?" "I will, it''s just... Well, even without taking into account the fact I just antagonized the closest doctor, I don''t think it''s the right moment." "When will it be, then?" "When we reach the main city, hopefully. They shouldn''t face too much discrimination there. Maybe the occasional bully, but I''m sure Lucille would handle it before David gets a criminal record." "I think you''re underestimating the little guy." "No, I''m not. If I were I wouldn''t be so worried for anyone who crossed his path on a bad day." The bandaged teen chuckled, and James couldn''t help but laugh along. They sure were one weird family. "By the way, Sam." "Techlord. You know it''s Techlord." "Sorry, I just assumed you would want to make a difference between your civilian identity and your professional one." "Well, I don''t." "Well then, Techlord, how are you taking your test results?" "I always knew I was brilliant, so nothing surprising. I''m somewhat disappointed there''s nothing more, but hey, I''ll take it. Don''t fear the mutant with a thousand small teeth on his head but the one with a rhino horn, ya know?" "I can''t say I''ve ever heard this saying, but I understand the sentiment." "And you? How are you holding up?" "I... It''s a lot to take in. I knew it would be quite something, but not to this extent." "Want to talk about it?" "No. Besides, we don''t have the freedom to speak freely anymore." Indeed, they were getting closer and closer to the Black Block and, understandably, saw more and more people passing by. A few tried to stealthily get away with some light pickpocketing, but sadly for them, Sam had nothing on him besides his clothes and bandages and James stored everything of value inside of himself. Still, although the two had implicitly avoided speaking out loud about anything too confidential and James was always watching out for any potential spy or stalker, the growing number of people they met encouraged them to drop any important topic altogether. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. And, since neither of them knew each other all that well on a personal level and had very few hobbies in common, their small talk was quite horrible. "Lovely weather we''re having." "It''s cloudy." "It''s a great time for fishing." "I don''t think fishing is a popular sport around here." "Well, it should be. It''s a nice way to pass the time with friends and to get some food too." "I''m pretty sure the local fish eat people instead of being eaten." "Never stopped anyone from cooking sharks." "That''s a thing?" "Yes. Some folks do some medicinal soup with the fins, a lot of the time they leave the rest alone and throw it back into the sea." "Why? That''s dumb. It''s just wasting tons of food." "More space for more fins, I presume. But yes, it is stupid and was heavily frowned upon where I came from. Not that sharks were all that popular either." "Why? They''re just fish. Big fish." "Believe it or not, people usually aren''t fond of predatory animals that can eat them." "Bah, I''d take sharks over Sicklers any day. Sharks don''t try to break into your home and cut their way through your belly to get to eat your intestines." "I''ve heard about Sicklers a few times, what are they like exactly?" "Bipedal reptile and insect hybrids, with sharp metallic feathers and even sharper claws and fangs. Nasty little things, the only good thing about them is that they''re not all that strong, so you''re fine if you can handle the number and the blades." "Uh. You people sure have very interesting wildlife." As they had their conversation had reached an interesting point they had reached the Black Block, navigating between the various stalls, thieves, and clients. "How was it where you came from?" "Manageable. Really, the worst native things around were probably boars, maybe wolves and bears in some areas but those were rare." "Really? No weird mutant monster to rampage around?" "Nope." "Lucky you, I guess." It was at that point that they neared Sweet Pete''s bakery, taking in the wonderful smell of freshly baked goods and sugar as they walked up to the door of the pink and white building with hints of red and blue. "Wait, Sweet Pete? That''s where we''re going?" "Yes? I assumed you knew who Maltodextrin was. You''ve probably been around here longer than I." "Well, I spent most of my time on the Techlord suit and the Tech Mech." "Well, you better put on your best Tech smile and be on your best behavior. Maltodextrin is a very nice lady, though her looks might catch you off guard, and I don''t want you to annoy her." "What do you mean her looks-" James ignored him as he opened the door of the bakery, a bell ringing as he opened it wide and stepped in under the warm gaze of the three eyes of a floating crystalline alien squid. "Ouh, James! It''s good to see you again my child! And I see you brought a friend!" Sam walked after James, confused by Maltodextrin''s physique. Not so much so her appearance, but rather the fact she was floating and that all of her tentacles went into portals not far from her body and emerged from other portals spread throughout the room, such as the pair currently serving the tan black haired girl with green tattoos and eyes from the magic shop James had bought his magic guide from who was currently watching him with a fakely disinterested eye. "Don''t worry about him, he''s a little shy. but it''s good to see you too, miss. How are you?" "Ouh, I am well my child. And you?" "I''m doing ok. I wanted to know if you had found somewhere for that shop I told you about?" "Ouh, yes. Well, it just so happens that the lovely Maviza over here''s latest neighbor had a tragic heart attack some time ago. Since it''s the fifth time in a row that it happened to the place''s owner, his son is having some trouble selling it. At this point, he would be more than happy to finally get rid of it, and Maviza has a special exorcism service that I''m sure she''d be happy to provide to help clean out any nefarious spirit!" The tan tattoed girl raised a thin eyebrow at that. "That''s not what I do." "Ouh, but could it be if I add an extra muffin to your order?" "... Make it two extra muffins." "Ouhouh, it''s a deal dearie!" "Thank you, miss Maltodextrin. And you too, miss Maviza." "How is your magical training coming along?" "It''s good. I''m picking up on umbramancy right now." She looked over James'' shoulder to stare at Sam, who up until now had been more or less waiting in the background for James to be done so that he could return to his work. "And who''s that?" "This is Techlord, you could say he''s one of my roommates. He''s more of a technology kind of guy." Upon hearing Sam''s alias her eyes slightly widened before returning to their usual phlegm, though she observed the bandaged teen with more focus. "Ain''t you the kid that got nuked by Sunburn?" "Yeah." "And you''re not a pile of ash or a screaming mess?" "I''m the great Techlord. It''s not a skin condition that''s going to kill me." She looked behind Sam. "Oh, hi Sunburn." The teen jumped and almost reached the ceiling, a pair of small electric daggers leaving his sleeves that he immediately clutched on as he turned around and landed in a heroic pose, ready for a fight. Of course, there was no one behind him. "Uh. I thought you''d scream in fear." Sam returned to a normal standing position and turned back to face Maviza, frowning all the while. "I faced him before. I''ll do it again." She looked down at his shaking hands as he struggled to put his daggers back in their hidden holsters. "Ouh, that wasn''t nice Maviza." "Sorry, Mal. I thought it was just a kid boasting. Better to get rid of bad habits early on, no?" The squid floated to Sam and moved some of her portals, her long tentacles hugging him before he had the time to react. "Ouh, you poor, poor child. I can see the scars on your mind. Let it all out..." "Uh..." Sam looked at James for help, but sadly for the teen, he had something different in mind. James crossed his arms as he stood in front of Maviza. "Are you happy with yourself?" "I already said sorry. Get over it." "I''m sure Maltodextrin would be willing to remove one of those extra muffins." That got her attention. "What do you want?" "A nice, clean, usable shop, free of any curse or nefarious spirit." "Fine. You get a discount." "I believe last time I avoided your ''not worth my time fee'', no?" "Yeah, yeah." "I know another exorcist, too. One that can handle demonic stuff." "Oh come on. It''s just a muffin." "I could always ask her to remove both of the extra muffins, they''re part of the deal in the first place after all, if I hire someone else you won''t get them." "You sure got a lot more confident since the last time." "No. I just got better bargaining chips." James couldn''t help but feel like there was a small smirk on her lips, but he couldn''t be sure. Even with his enhanced senses, it was hard to tell. "Fine. You''re in luck, I already bought the shop from the kid. I had planned to expand, make some space for larger products, but I suppose I could rent it to you." "Sell." "Tut-tut, rent. Unless you''re willing to argue with another shop owner for hours on end only to end up with a ridiculous price, it''s rent." "Fine. But the first month is free." "Of course. The rent will be proportional to your profits, after all." "No percentage." "Oh, I wouldn''t be so sure about that." As the two continued to negotiate, Sam half-heartedly struggled in Maltodextrin''s grasp. "I''m not a hug person, lady." "Ouh, hush now." "Let me go." "Ouh." "Please." Chapter 66 : Setting up shop, chop chop When later that day James approached the old library Maviza had set up her magic shop in, it was as Silhouette. He didn''t mind negotiating as James, especially when an opportunity presented itself as it had earlier, but he still preferred cementing serious deals as Silhouette. In this little facade he was carefully crafting, James would only be another of Silhouette''s proteges, maybe one who had undergone the infusion procedure. It would explain his actions and loyalty but not make him important enough to be targeted. Hopefully. Standing at his sides were his future shopkeepers, Larry and Barry, as well as their bodyguards, Mark and Jeffrey. The dastardly duo enjoyed a shared back of chouquettes, happily munching on the round viennoiseries with pearl sugar filled with custard, as the ratkin and lizardman trailed behind them, glaring at anyone who got a little too interested in the group as they carried black crates full of future products. The crates were a last-minute preparation made by James to facilitate the transport of materials, made with some salvaged wood from the broken furniture of the orphanage that had then been infused and fused. Their unusual blackwood color caught the eye, but it was better than just carrying everything with their bare arms. "So, boss, which one is it?" "Frankly, it matters not." The two buildings sandwiching the old library were very easy to dismiss. James wasn''t an expert in architecture and therefore may have dismissed some subtle details that would have otherwise made these two masterpieces, but all he saw was two roughly rectangular buildings with a storefront, two stories, and a black slanted tiled roof. The buildings were both an odd dirty beige bordering on yellow with splashes of green and covered in cracks, but he still had to admit they were in a better state than many other structures he had seen around the slums. Those two just looked like barely cared for places instead of ruined ones. "Yeah, I see what you mean. You''re gonna do the whole black thing with it too?" "It would be for the best if only to ensure the whole structure won''t collapse on you. But we should give it a new coat of paint too." "Yeah, best avoid the creepy black look up here." "You''re a bit harsh, Barry." "Larry, trust me, I ain''t. I''d even say I''m being nice." James would have probably rolled his eyes had he still had them. He slid forward and ignored their banter, forming a tentacle to open the old library''s door, and acted as though this was his first visit here, moving his head to fake looking around the wooden interior despite his senses already catching everything going on in the magic shop and looking up when a ringing sound occurred without a bell. Just like his first visit as James, Maviza was seated at the vendor''s desk, reading a thick old book that he assumed was a grimoire. The green cursive tattoos covering her tan skin were as eye-catching as ever, though James couldn''t help but notice that this time they appeared to have a very faint glow, just like her emerald eyes. James slid closer to the desk and sunk further into the ground to put his head roughly at the same level as hers, though slightly higher. A nice, casual height difference to say I see her as an equal, but still affirming myself. "You must be Maviza." The woman finally closed her book and put it aside, though she still took her time looking up from her desk to finally meet James'' gaze - though the lack of eyes made that point a little moot. "And you must be the Silhouette guy. I thought you''d be taller." "I''m just being respectful, Maviza. So, you''re the one I''m buying the building from." "Renting." "Yes, renting. At a more reasonable price than initially offered." "Yeah, yeah. That James guy did the negotiating. Say, you two look very similar." "You can say that. Now, since the negotiations already occurred, I took the liberty to note down everything in a magical contract manifested by a third neutral party." "Oh? And what if I want to negotiate some more? Maybe I decided to go back on some of my concessions." "I anticipated such an outcome, which is why I brought this." James formed a tentacle and took out a small black pearl from his body, the size of a marble, putting it down on the desk. "And this is?" "If I remember correctly, the magical arts often make use of Cores, do they not?" "Depends on what you want to do. So this is?" "A shadow affinity Core carved right out of an animal. I wasn''t able to identify all of its Aspects with certainty, but I do know it was Body Aspected." "And you think a single Core would be enough to convince me?" "If you are reasonable, yes. This is a high-quality Core, made of pristine black corite. I doubt you would easily find another like it in these parts." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "And you guarantee this wasn''t taken from a sapient? Vengeful ghosts are annoying to deal with and can mess up a lot of rituals." "I promise." "Tell you what? I''m going to do something with it right now. If it''s as good as you say then it should be obvious during the ritual. If it messes up, I double the rent or you find yourself somewhere else." "And it exceeds your expectations?" "Ten percent discount on any product for the first purchase of each month. For a year." "Twenty percent, five products. Permanently." "Fifteen, three. As long as you pay your rent." "Deal." James took out a scroll from inside himself. "Let''s put it on paper." A short while later, the contract was signed and Maviza had set up some sort of ritual. It looked pretty simple, a small circle drawn with green chalk on the vendor''s desk with a white feather in the middle. James couldn''t tell exactly from what kind of bird the feather came from, but it was slightly shorter than a human forearm. "Now step back. I don''t want you to ruin everything." James obliged, sliding back and raising his body in the process to imitate standing up. It wasn''t necessary, of course, he was going to go back to his lower level to continue his conversation soon enough after all, but those were the little things that helped him keep in touch with his human nature. "Good. Now watch a master at work." Still sitting in her seat, Maviza raised her right arm and began to mouth something, silent whispers escaping her lips but so faint even James couldn''t hear them. The tattoos on her tan skin began to glow, and a light minty green mist escaped her closed fist to flow over the feather and the circle. As the mist rolled over the chalk it moved, slithering from a sole unbroken line into curved words and letters James couldn''t read while keeping a circular structure. The words glowed in turn, and the feather began to slowly spin on its axis. Maviza held the small black Core under her raised right arm with her left one, holding onto the orb with her index and thumb. Maviza opened her fist, and the mist turned into a cloud of smoke that descended upon the Core, rolling over her fingers as it siphoned the darkness of the orb, going from light minty green to a thick impenetrable black, covering everything on the desk except for the green glowing words of the rituals which light managed to shine through. In fact, their glow grew stronger and stronger as the ritual continued, small green sparks leaving them to die off in the inky cloud, which James idly noted was probably not meant to happen considering Maviza''s eyes were slowly widening, surprise written all over her face. Then at once, the cloud of darkness began to spin, turning into a small contained hurricane of magic, black and green turning madly as the words written in chalk were scooped up in the wind, the bright green glow and the overwhelming darkness of the Core struggling against one other before they collapsed into the feather. And just like that, it was over. No more cloud of magic or shining sigils, the only thing left on the desk was the feather, now a black color with a green shaft. Maviza, her face to bored neutrality, picked it up and took out a piece of paper from one of the desk''s drawers. She held onto the feather on the green shaft, as one would with a quill, and randomly scribbled on the paper, though nothing appeared. She tried again, this time feeding magic into it making the feather''s green glow, and the tip of the feather''s shaft left black marks as it passed. Maviza then put her finger on one such scribble and rubbed it before checking both the paper and her finger, both free of any ink smudge or stains. "Uh. Acceptable." "Does this mean you will uphold your end of the bargain?" "Wait a second. I have one last thing to test." She poured magic into the newly made quill once more, and this time rubbed the black of the feather itself on the paper, the scribbles disappearing anywhere it touched. "Good." "Good?" "It means you get the default offer at least. Now we move onto the real test." Again she poured magic into the quill, but this time instead of drawing or writing on the paper she used it on the very air, black marks escaping the glowing green tip of the quill to make symbols that defied logic and gravity. When Maviza tried to touch them with her hand it passed through them and remained as they were when she removed it. Of course, when she poured magic into the quill and used the feather on those floating scribbles, they disappeared just as they had done on the paper. "Well. I guess you know how to find good Cores at least." "I do hope we will have a long and fruitful partnership." "Yeah, yeah. So, how did you get that Core? You weren''t kidding when you said it was high quality." "I have my ways. Now, if you don''t mind, my men and I don''t have all day and we''d like to set up shop as soon as possible." Maviza rolled her eyes but obliged, taking the scroll that James handed her and unfurling it on the desk. She used her newly made quill to add to the initial agreement the deal they had just made before pressing her thumb on the bottom of the scroll, her magic spreading to form her name with cursive letters, similar to those of her tattoos but still readable, and James quickly followed by placing a tentacle next to her name, shadows spreading to form his alias. "Thank you. Now, if you would lead us to our new shop please." "Yeah, yeah." It turned out the building James was now renting was the one to the right of the old library, not that it mattered considering how similar it and the one on its left were. The inside wasn''t all that impressive either, the walls were the same ugly beige as on the ones outside but at least they weren''t as yellowish and lacked any splashes of green, spared from the outside world as they were, the willing was a dirty white thing made of plaster with moldy black spots, and the floor was a thing of classic checkerboard tiles. At least there were still shelves and a vendor''s desk, and the layout of the building made it so that there was a storeroom behind the shop proper, and the floor above the main one had been arranged as a living space. It would be a bit small for Barry, Larry, Mark, and Jeffrey, but it would do. "Welcome to your shop. Do whatever you want so long as there''s still a place I can sell when you''re gone." "Thank you, Maviza. I do hope you removed any possible curses or hexes that may have affected me, my employees, or my future customers." "I don''t know what you''re talking about. Have a good day." "Have a good day too." James waited for her to be outside of the building and past his senses before he talked to his little band. "Well then, it''s time for you to set up shop. Barry, Larry, you''re in charge. When you''re done, go buy paint." "Uh, boss, what was that about hexes and curses and stuff?" "Nothing, don''t worry about it. I made sure to add a clause for this sort of situation in the contract anyway." "Oh. Good." "Barry, don''t be so gloomy! We get to set up our own shop!" "Yeah yeah." Mark put down the black crates he was carrying and turned toward James. "Uh, bosssss. If you don''t mind me asssking, what are you going to do?" "Tonight, I''ll infuse everything here. But for now?" If it weren''t for how it would have ruined his speech, James would have probably sighed. "I''m going to dig." Chapter 67 : Guy In an abandoned warehouse in Zalcien''s slums, not far from the Black Block, an old human man walked in circles waiting for news. He lifted his green cap to pass his pale calloused hand through his short white messy hair, exposing a line running horizontally across his forehead, and fixed his brown eyes on the door as he put it back down, checking whether any of his trainees had returned yet, concern written all over his lightly wrinkled face. When he finally got tired of waiting he sat down on a crate, patting his grey shirt and brown pants to get rid of the dust that had fallen on them. At last, someone joined him inside, one of the local street kids wearing a black hooded coat too big for them running in and parkouring over a few crates before landing right in front of the man, kicking off a cloud of dust that covered them both and caused the older one to cough, the child - who couldn''t be older than ten - hiding their face behind a thick green scarf, letting only a hint of the blue skin beneath visible. "Sup Guy." "Dane, good to see you. What have you learned?" "Money first." "That''s not what I taught you." The child grumbled before turning around and walking out. After a few steps without getting interrupted, they looked over their shoulder to see Guy still sitting on his crate, unimpressed. "First rule of information trading, Dane. No one is irreplaceable, nothing stays secret for long." Dane was about to reply when another street urchin dropped down from the ceiling, this one had four spider legs sprouting from her back and with dark purple skin, her four glowing blue eyes ignoring her fellow child and instead focused on Guy. "Guy." "Igne. It is a pleasure to see you. Do you have anything for me?" "Yes. I learned-" "HEY! I was here first you stupid-" Dane tried to grab Igne''s regular arm but before their hand managed to make contact with her one of her spider legs struck out, and found itself beneath Dane''s scarf, its bladed tip lightly pressing against their blue throat. Beneath the hood of their coat, Dane''s pupils shrunk as they gazed into nothing, the cold of the chitinous appendage against their skin being the sole thing they could focus on, completely missing Igne''s frown. "Don''t." Guy observed the two in silence for a few seconds before interfering. "Igne, release them please." The spider mutant complied, taking off the bladed tip of her leg from Dane''s throat, leaving a white mark behind. "As I said, Dane, no one is irreplaceable and nothing stays secret for long. You may have arrived first, but Igne is the one willing to talk right away, so she is the most important one. Better luck next time." "But I-" Before the blue child got to finish their piece Igne kicked them away with one of her regular legs, launching them through an empty crate that was destroyed in the process before their body landed outside, a few steps away from the entrance, conscious but stunned. "You didn''t have to be so rough." "They didn''t have to be so stupid." Air flew out Guy''s nose before his worries caught up to him. He might have had the time to teach unruly elements a lesson, but there were still serious matters at hand. "So, what have you learned?" "Mark and Jeffrey are back on the Block." "Are you sure?" "I saw them myself. They were working together while Barry and Larry directed them." "Barry and Larry? Those two? Are you sure?" "Yes." Guy looked her in the eyes for a few seconds before sighing. "Anything else?" "They''re opening a shop. I''m not sure what they''re selling, I saw a few black rods and a couple of black electroguns, but there were more things in crates. I had to leave before I saw more." "Was there anyone else with them? Like a living silhouette of sorts?" "Yes. When I got too close, I saw it emerge from a storage room. I ran away at that point and picked random paths to confuse it if it followed me." Guy contemplated her words before searching the inner pocket of his jacket, rummaging around before he suddenly threw a black mass high into the air that fell in front of Igne, where she casually caught it with her left hand. It was a pouch, made of leather and filled with many metallic things judging by the sound it made. Coins, of course. "Good work, Igne. Come back if you learn anything more." "Will do. Until next time." The short spider girl did a little bow before walking out, fixing the pouch she had just gained to her belt with her spider legs, the parts before the bladed tips producing spinnerets that tied her newly gained pay with silk. Sometime after she was out of sight, when he was sure she was out of earshot too, Guy got back up and resumed walking in circles. He hadn''t fully believed the first kid that had come, talking about a ratkin and a lizardman carrying crates, but he had still paid him and asked everyone to watch out for any more information. Now? Igne''s report had been the most thorough so far, the girl was a blessing in this kind of work, but it only confirmed what many other informants had told him today. Soluble''s boys were back, but no sign of the slime themself or anyone else from the expedition. Only Mark and Jeffrey, working for their notorious... Enemies? Rivals? Annoyances? The fact those four were working together wasn''t the worrying part, of course. It was everything it implied that was. Barry and Larry had recently begun to work for a mysterious entity, one that had been targeted by a raid, and so far the only members of the raid that had resurfaced were working for the said entity''s men. Not only that, but several witnesses reported the four thugs had been following a strange black creature no one had seen before. Guy didn''t like how things were going so far. Soluble might have tended to whine, but they weren''t that easy to get rid of. Not only that, but he knew for a fact that one of Runar''s henchmen was on the job, and those were supposed to be good when it came to magic. It might be for the best if Guy contacted him... This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. A chill went down Guy''s back, stopping him dead in his track. He wasn''t alone. There was something else here. And it wasn''t a friend. "Hello, Guy." A black mass dropped down from the ceiling right in front of him, spreading a black goop all over the floor as he backed away, his eyes quickly flickering up to assess the threat before realizing there was no one up there. Guy watched all over the warehouse for any sign of movement but kept most of his attention on the darkness spreading on the floor from the strange black lump in the circle before it all converged back into that central point, slowly forming and standing up into a roughly humanoid shape. "We have a lot to talk about." Guy noticed that his interlocutor hadn''t fully called back the black goop that had spread after its fall, tendrils of it still spread on the ground, throbbing like demented veins, and ready to snatch him up if he tried anything funny he assumed. No matter, Guy had negotiated with worse. The fact he was even still alive was proof enough that he could win this one. "Hello to you too. You must be the silhouette Soluble talked about?" "Yes, I am. You may simply call me Silhouette." It began to slide around, slowly circling around him as it looked over the various crates of the warehouse. "I must say, I expected more from you. The best information broker around the Black Block. All I get is an old man surrounded by empty crates." "Bah, this is only a meet-up point. A place where my contacts can find me. I don''t need a fancy hideout or anything of the sort. I sell and buy information, nothing less, nothing more. And ya know what they say about age." "Yes, yes, never underestimate someone who lives a long life in a deadly career. I know my classics, Guy. I''m a civilized man, not some wild beast that needs to be put down. Clearly, you and your little friends didn''t agree on that part." "Look, Soluble didn''t say anything about your intelligence." "Oh? How strange. I do recall them mentioning my use of weaponry when they first came knocking at your door." What. "How would you-" "You do not have a monopoly on information gathering, Guy. Not that you''re the one to do the actual work in the first place." "Hey! I spent my life running around in those streets! Those kids are lucky they have me to teach them tricks." The black figure suddenly slid closer to him, putting its black faceless head a few breaths away from his, nearly touching his nose. "Trust me, Guy, you have far larger problems than child labor right now." The old man gulped as he took a few steps back before his heel caught on something, making him fall onto his back. When he looked down at his feet, he saw one of those black throbbing tendrils slither away. "I did not appreciate your little surprise party, Guy. Neither did its participants. Now, I want you to make it up to me." "This wasn''t personal. I sell information, it''s my job! No one else ever complained about stuff like this before, they know the rules!" "You see, the issue with that train of thought is that I wasn''t invited to the game. You can''t expect me to follow rules that I''ve never been told, that no one bothered to follow when they tried to burst into my home and slaughter my family and employees. Besides, we both know you didn''t limit yourself to being an informant in this expedition. Grover had lots to say about you." "Look, it was stupid, I get it, and now I know you''re not just a weird monster in the sewers but another gang leader with the territory and everything. I''ll treat you like everyone else, even give you a permanent discount to make up for that little fiasco. But don''t do something you''ll regret. If anything happens to me, the others will notice and they won''t be happy. I may not be a big player, but even they have their eyes on me. You think you can take on a Mechanized Guard, or maybe even Sunburn?" The shadowy thing had no face, and yet Guy could feel the smirk radiating off of it. "You know one of my men, on his own, survived an attack from Sunburn. Do you think I fear him? Do you truly think he would even care about you in the first place?" "I ain''t afraid of dying." "Oh, I can do much, much worse than death. Just ask poor little Soluble." "What do you-" Silhouette began to shiver, odd creaking and ripping sounds echoing through the warehouse as slowly its head began to open in large folds and flaps, like a twisted fleshy flower, the strips of shadowy skins falling back more and more to reveal first a black skull then more and more of a black skeleton staring at Guy, its mouth open as it spasmed left and right before speaking once more, this time in a much more familiar voice, slowly leaning forward all the while. "Obey Silhouette, Guy. Submit or suffer." All at once the fleshy folds and flaps closed back as Silhouette stood back straight, and everything was back to normal - as far as a living shadow could be normal. "I do hope you will prove to be of the cooperative sort, Guy. I am good to those that work for me, but my enemies? I make sure they''ll never get to try again. So tell me, which one will you be?" On the ground, the old information broker stared up at the nightmarish creature, his entire body shaking uncontrollably as blood trickled down his fingers, his nails displaced and almost ripped off from how much he was clutching onto the ground. "Wha- What do you want?" "I have a few things in mind. Most importantly, you and your little workers won''t say anything about me but will tell me everything they hear and know, especially about Runar. Then, there are a few more ways I''m sure you could be useful... Tell me, are you familiar with magical contracts?"
In an alley leading to the Black Block, two locals were conversing. One was a lanky human and the other a blubbery toad who was quite curious about his friend''s latest gossip. "So, there''s a new place? A full-on shop?" "Yup. Next to Maviza''s magical trinkets'' stuff, the old place that sounded cursed as hell with all of the heart attacks." "Uh. And what''s its shtick?" "It specializes in auto-defense stuff so far. Maces, arm and shin guards, they''re even selling electroguns!" "Aren''t those useless after a couple of shots?" "Yeah, but that''s the thing! If you bring back your empty one, they''ll replace the battery for a fully charged one for free!" "Whoa. No tricks? No occasional explosions? No sneaky fee?" "None so far. The place doesn''t have much yet, but what they have is good, if a bit basic. Like, the maces are just black sticks, but during a demonstration one of those easily dented a metal sheet. Like, if you see someone with one of these menacing you, just comply, your wallet may be angry but your bones will be thankful." "And the electroguns? Are they any good?" "Yup. Just yesterday some dude tried to rob the place while I was browsing, and the clerk just pulled out this teeny tiny little thing that shot an electric arc strong enough to throw the dude back outside. He was even fuming!" "Whoa. So, you''ve been there, right? Who''s in charge?" "You ain''t gonna believe it." "Tell me." "Barry and Larry." "Who?" "You know, a small bald guy with mutton chops and a tall one with a goatee? The weird half dwarf half elf kids?" "Those two? I think they sold me a broken watch that only told you the right time once per day." "Don''t you mean two?" "No, it didn''t even manage to do that! You sure it''s safe and not a very elaborate scam?" "Of course I''m sure, when have I ever been wrong?" "You last boyfriend. And the girlfriend before that. And that time you bought a lamp because you thought there was a genie in there. And that other time some guy convinced you he made some clothes only the worthy and intelligent could see-" "I get it, I get it, but this time it''s legit. They''re the managers, but Larry and Barry aren''t in charge." "Who is, then?" "I dunno. Some guy called Silhouette from what I heard, I asked one of Guy''s runners about it and they said he was trustworthy and that''s it. Nothing more than that." "Huh. Usually, they talk more for some extra coin." "Bah, it doesn''t matter. Say, you wanna go there later? If we pull together I''m sure we could buy an electrogun we could share!" "Eeeh, I''d rather have something on me at all times than share." "Aw, shucks." "Bah, we can still check it out. What does the place look like?" "Oh, it''s all black and white! It''s funny I think." "I don''t think it''s going to stay white for long." "Bah, that''s their problem. Say, have you heard about Samantha''s new partner? He''s supposed to be some kind of orc noble." "No way!" "Yes way!" The two kept on chatting and gossiping along, only briefly stopping to complain while stepping other a few thug corpses on the way, living yet another day in the slums. Chapter 68 : Silhouette of a fight Deep beneath the streets of Zalcien, beneath its monster-infested sewers, lay a place long forgotten by the surface world. A nearly lawless place, only held in rough order by the might of mercenaries and the willingness of its inhabitants and their fear of death. The Sunken City, a haven for criminals from all horizons. In the ruined city denied the light of day, occupying an old fire station, was a gang of drug dealers. Years ago, they had fought their way through the sewers tooth and nail, leaving a trail of mutated corpses in their wake, and had settled down in the rundown building - after getting rid of its previous occupants. Here they had expanded their operations, using the relative calm of the Sunken City to grow their ranks and improve their infrastructure faster than ever before, unimpeded by their old rivals on the surface. They had grown enough that small squads were enough to make their way back up and sell their products rather than the over-equipped army they had sent down the first time. And they were in James'' way. He looked at the admittedly impressive structure they had resided in, the fire station may have been on the smaller side of things, with a single garage capable of holding five vehicles, a small tower, and a building meant for the firefighters themselves, everything made with grey cement, but the gang had clearly customized it. The tower had been expanded, with an entirely new floor made from scarps that held a lookout post, fences with barbwire had been installed in various places to make breaking in harder, and the group had personalized the fire station with colored graffiti over every wall, mostly of beaches with palm trees and a sunny skies. A nice bit of escapism, James supposed. Not that any of that would stop him. He confidently approached the place himself, done with scouting it via infused paper planes which he directed back to the orphanage, they were too far away to make it back but they didn''t need to, his men were waiting for him in that direction. He had to congratulate the Shadow Commando on that one, their random ramblings apparently sometimes led to very good ideas. The planes weren''t even that hard to control now that he was a little more comfortable with magic, using the infused paper''s owned shadow mana to produce kinetic energy that he could somewhat manipulate was a very neat trick, but not the best he''d learned by far. James slowly emerged from the ground as Silhouette as he no longer needed to sneak around as a shadow. No, if anything, stealth would be detrimental at this point. And, now that James was no longer hiding, the lookout noticed him judging by the light flickering on and off at the top of the tower. Quickly after that thugs began to take position around the area, some going up on roofs and others approaching the gates, all of them wearing a bulletproof vest of some sort and wielding a firearm, mostly handheld guns but those on the roofs and a couple of those approaching James carrying rifles instead, and all of them had some sort of flashlight attached to either a helmet or their shoulder. "Halt!" "Don''t come any closer!" "The hell are you, dude?" James ignored them and pressed on as their lights illuminated him, his shadow growing much further than what should have been possible. "My name is Silhouette, and I will be taking over. It is in your best interest to surrender now." "Who do you think you are?!" "If you take another step we''re filling you with lead!" James stopped at that and turned his head toward the last speaker who was ready to fire, his finger on the trigger. "This is your second chance. Lay down your weapons." "Ya think you''re better than us?" "I do not believe I am, no. I know it." The trigger-happy thug immediately fired through a hole in the fence, gunshots echoing as he emptied his magazine into the still target that James was. A few of the others joined him, making a few more bullets fly, though they kept themselves down to only a few shots. There was no point in wasting ammo, after all. Not that it did them any good. "Wrong answer." Black tentacles rose from shadows and the ambient darkness, gripping the various thugs'' limbs and weapons, crushing some and immobilizing the rest via constriction. They struggled and fought against the surprise attack, some even managed to free themselves from the black appendages but by the time they had succeeded, there was a new threat to handle. While the brunt of the thugs had been busy dealing with tentacles, James had rushed into the base, passing through the fences and gates like a wave of darkness before leaping onto the first enemy he saw, ripping his gun out of his grasp and throwing the man into one of the garage''s walls, the man falling into a pile of limp limbs. At that point, one of the men on top of the garage jumped down, military knife in hand, and stabbed James. The serrated metal blade of the weapon went through his shadowy flesh with ease but without any more results. James forwent his humanoid form to turn into something closer to a snake, using most of his mass as a coil to choke his human opponent. The man tried to get James off his neck, trying to pass his fingers under the black flesh and slash through it with his knife but without result. Before all strength and life left his body and James released it, letting it fall onto the ground as he returned to his Silhouette shape. Of course, it was at this point that a grey orc with black hair fired off a shotgun aimed straight at his head. James'' head burst, leaving behind black fluidic projections and a stumpy neck as the only reminders it had even existed. The orc grinned and laughed, but his joy quickly died down. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. James'' body hadn''t fallen. The tentacles attacking the rest of the thugs were still active. And what at first had appeared to be black blood spread all over the floor began to return to James'' body, new black flesh emerging from his neck to reform his head. "A remarkable attempt, though vain. I assume you''re the one in charge here." "No. I am." Exiting from the station proper was a creature James could only describe as a goblin. It was short, smaller than a man''s waist, it was pine green, it had a big bald head with long ears, and it was objectively ugly with its bulbous eyes and snout-like nose, and that was without taking into account its wrinkles and its wide mouth filled with tiny sharp teeth. Though instead of the dumb optimistic sadism that most goblins were in the stories James knew this one was eerily calm, its hands behind its back, and a strange glint in its eyes. "You''ve got guts coming here alone, boy." Its raspy voice sounded like a mix between an old man who had smoked all his life and a grandma on the verge of death, sounding both incredibly high and low at the same time as well as out of breath. "I wonder why you picked a fight with us. I don''t think there''s any bad blood between us, yes?" "No, but you stand between me and the Black Border." "Ah, you''re one of those. You were born with or discovered a unique power, something that let you crush your enemies with ease, and just because of that you thought you''d make it to the big city. Make a little show out of it, too." The goblin rolled its neck left and right, its vertebrae popping and cracking as they settled. "Well let me tell ya, boy. You''re nothing." The goblin took a combat stance, bending its knees as it readied its fists that suddenly unleashed a lime green aura flowing like water and flames at the same time, an incredibly powerful loose unpredictable energy and a calm focused flowing power depending on the goblin''s posture and movements, either leaving behind mesmerizing trails or exploding in eye-catching bursts as the goblin changed from its first stance close to the ground to another one that looked closer to a meditative pose than a fighting technique, one of its feet resting again its other leg''s shin. "Ya think you''re at the top of the world? The new big bad on the block? Maybe the future Sunburn, or even Natrashka? You''re none of those. You''re a frog that has grown fat on bugs and thinks itself a bull. I heard ya telling the guys to surrender earlier, so I''ll give you the same courtesy. From one frog to another, give up boy. You''re good, and I''d be glad to count you as an ally. We small predators of the pond should stick together." "I appreciate your concern, but I know which path I wish to take. You won''t stop me." The goblin stared at James before scoffing. "Have it your way. Now behold the might of a Flaming Poison shaman!" The goblin changed its posture once more, but this time instead of switching to another stance it sprinted toward James, its feet gaining the same lime green aura as its feet, before jumping and pivoting its waist and unleashing a powerful turning kick, James barely holding onto its leg and blocking the attack off by forming more tentacles out of his own shadow. Its first attack blocked the goblin kicked at James with its other foot which was once again blocked with tentacles, something the goblin apparently relied on since it used its momentum to backflip away before landing back in its original spot facing James, but this time instead of standing still it immediately used the aura on its feet as skates and began to circle James while zigzagging in random patterns to be sure to evade the various spikes and tendrils that emerged from James'' shadow on the ground, constantly turning and expanding to follow the strange shaman. The goblin assaulted James once more, this time keeping its feet on the ground and relying on its fist to attack while passing by, alternating between slow planned hits surrounded by flowing energy and rapid ones unleashed in bursts of burning power, its speed always shifting and changing to try and fool James, which appeared to work as more and more small hits landed on him, leaving behind light green spots on his black body that quickly faded away, though the pain remained. "Not bad boy, you know how to take a good pounding, but you lack experience. Don''t just stand there like a sitting duck, I saw how fast you could move." "And try to keep up with you? I know where my strengths lie." "Is your strength to handle getting beat up? That ain''t a strength boy, that''s just getting used to being a punching bag, and it''s not a good sign." James said nothing as the goblin rushed in again, evading the tendrils, spikes, and tentacles that formed to intercept it, but as it jumped to avoid a bladed tentacle cutting at its feet and twisted midair to let another tentacle aiming at its back to pass over it something new appeared on the battlefield. Black orbs began to float around, coming seemingly out of nowhere, some of them simply kept in place above James while others danced around, and a last few rose from the ground to follow the goblin''s jump. The small creature frowned at the orbs and decided to abort its attack on James, but sadly for it it was still carried by its momentum and high into the air. Despite its best efforts to stabilize itself and leap elsewhere by kicking the air with its aura-clad feet, it simply didn''t have the time to avoid one of the orbs floating over James suddenly throwing itself at it. It tried to block it and push off it with one of its hands, but as soon as the orb hit its palm darkness spread over the aura of that hand and it flickered out, the goblin''s eyes widening as it watched its hand nearly get ripped off just as the rest of the orbs crashed down on it. The few thugs that had freed themselves from James'' initial tentacles and the orc wielding the shotgun watched in horror as their leader disappeared in a huge black spherical explosion, one of darkness and magic much more dangerous than flames would ever dream to be. Once the massive sphere dissipated, all that was left was a small black lump on the ground at the foot of their aggressor. "This, I hope, will be reason enough for the rest of you to accept your place." The various tentacles and tendrils born from the surrounding shadows disappeared, letting their various victims fall onto the ground to struggle and writhe as they caught themselves. Those still lucid enough to understand James'' words turned to their orcish leader who simply released his grip on his shotgun and dropped it at his feet. "Ain''t gonna beat someone who can beat a shaman. Give it up boys." There was no fight left in them anyway. Getting thrashed by tentacles and seeing their mighty leader be defeated- "COWARDS!" It appeared the feisty little trigger-happy thug still wanted to fight, after all. "I ain''t done yet you-" His next words were drowned out by the orb of darkness thrown at his face, exploding into a spherical expansion of shadows that covered his entire body before disappearing and only leaving behind a black body that fell on its knees, its pale empty eyes revealed to all, before faceplanting. "Anyone else?" The rest of the thugs stayed silent and avoided looking at him, suddenly discovering the ground was a very interesting view. "Good. If either of them starts moving come fetch me. I assume the orc is the next in charge?" "Eh... Yeah? Name''s Brok. At your service, sir..." James began to explore the fire station with closer attention, already heading for the main building, his latest subordinate following after him. "Very well, Brok. We''ll be going over your group''s finances and how it will operate under my rule, including your place in the hierarchy." "And after that?" James stopped and took the time to turn around despite not needing to purely for the dramatic flair it provided. "We expand until we reach the Border." Chapter 69 : The road to victory James'' latest conquest wasn''t that great. Sure, it was one more place to hide in and one more group to work for him, but it wasn''t that useful. Unsurprisingly the drug dealers mostly had drugs, with what little money they had being hidden in a vault in their old goblin boss'' room. A nifty little trick involving a flat shadow tentacle and James'' unique senses combined with what little he remembered of those lockpicking videos he had idly watched a couple of times had quickly taken care of that. The fact he more or less did the same thing a few times before he reached the fire station also helped. The Black Border had long been an objective of James, a way to reach the main city, an environment with less casual danger than the slums and the sewers where he could live a normal life with his little ratlings, and Guy''s information had been incredibly useful. Or more accurately his methods were. The man had never been to the Sunken City in his life, and in fact, he personally considered the thing to have greatly exaggerated to reach a nigh mythical status to fool the average thugs and keep them away from the good bases on the surface, so his reaction when James had brought him down below had been incredibly amusing. The catfish the size of a car that tried to eat him on the way helped reinforce the fact he needed James to survive down there, and though he wasn''t what James would have called a loyal worker he at least wasn''t actively planning to backstab him, which would be sufficient for now. While he was at the elevator stations James used to opportunity to get his Silhouette papers, and after that, he had let Guy more or less run free, though with the surveillance of one of the ghostly nuns. The man had taken to the environment like a fish to water. It turned out that once the nun had hidden and Guy just looked like a friendly old man, there suddenly were a lot more locals in the area willing to talk. More than James had seen in his early scouting. It made sense, they probably grew weary of strange things to survive, and from what Guy had gathered they were mostly kids of criminals who had tried their luck and either had failed to hold a position in the Sunken City or just kicked them out of the better areas. Others were just lone survivors of criminal groups, either kidnapped civilians or thugs themselves, who had escaped extermination or assimilation from other groups. Sort of what James was doing. In a single week, Guy had gathered a new network, one that once didn''t ask for pay - what was the use for money when they didn''t have the strength to survive dealing with proper groups - but instead food and shelter. They had also wished for medical help but understood that it wouldn''t as easy to obtain. This new network quickly spread via word of mouth among the poor and desperate locals while keeping out of sight of the proper groups and more noteworthy individuals and before long even people from much further away - like, say, those close to the Black Border - began to come to the orphanage to see Guy and share what they knew. James was quite glad the shop on the surface was doing incredibly well to finance all of these groceries. It was thanks to this network that James and co had gathered enough information to plan their next step. Once the shop had been set up, the group didn''t really have any major objective - only obvious permanent ones such as improving themselves and long-term ones such as establishing a stronghold in the main city - so it had been a welcomed surprise to discover that not only could they pass beneath the Black Border thanks to the Sunken City, but also that there was no equivalent to the Border underground. The only thing that stopped anyone from going from the slums section of the Sunken City to the main city''s one were the local gangs and monster nests. Of course the strength of these various probably hostile groups varied greatly but overall based on the intel they had gathered there was nothing particularly dangerous. Oh, had the Shadow Commando or even Mischief gone in alone they would have suffered many losses and maybe been outright destroyed by some of these groups, but with James? This was another matter entirely. After drafting up a crude map of the area based on their network''s and their neighbors'' information that featured notable areas and groups, they planned out an invasion route. If they had just attacked everyone in sight and expanded everywhere at once then they would have attracted too much attention, and even potential allies might have turned against them in fear. If they only attacked the bases they needed to make a relatively safe road to the first elevator they could find that would lead to the main city however, although they would ruffle some feathers they might get away with it, especially if they only targeted small and forgettable gangs and wild monsters. Big groups that weren''t too paranoid would hopefully see the operation as a one-and-done deal, they only needed to reach the city once after all. It was why that day sub-packs from Mischief had been sent to deal with monster nests while James and the Commando went to base after base, James going in first to scare the thugs and deal with any powerful opponent while the Commando followed and indoctrinated them as fast as possible while James cemented his control by infusing key locations of the place. Once they were done they would head to the next, James always taking some time to scout with his infused paper planes to confirm their intel before attacking. They needed to be as fast as possible so that their various targets wouldn''t have time to prepare. It was why he had been so confident against the drug dealers led by the goblin shaman, he knew they only had regular firearms and that those wouldn''t pose a threat to him. That particular test hadn''t been pleasant, especially when it turned out that infused bullets - despite being made by him and shadow-based - could harm him, not by much, it was mostly a small sting, but James attributed that to his connection to those bullets. Magical weaponry made by anyone else wouldn''t be so kind, at least if it was made with unorthodox bodies in mind. He wasn''t sure if Grover''s had been since he had made sure to evade all of his attacks and since his enchanted clay armor had crumbled to dust after getting hit by infused electricity they hadn''t been able to test it out - something that James was somewhat thankful for. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. On the same train of thought, when they tested his resistance to the electroguns, it turned out James was also affected by more regular energies, which should have been obvious given his experience with the Titaroach, the massive electroach he had to deal with when he met Barry and Larry for the first time. At least the energy discharged by those handheld weapons wasn''t as impactful as the one unleashed by the massive bug, and thanks to his shadow resistance fully powered infused electrogun shots weren''t as bad as they would normally be. They barely affected him more than the regular shots did, which was a few seconds stunned and some light grogginess for a dozen more or so. All that to say that James was confident that, if all went according to plan, he wouldn''t be in any mortal danger. The only things that threatened him were the odd magic or energy user, such as that goblin shaman or that one crazy lunatic that had tried to burn him down with a flamethrower. She had been the first human opponent that James tried to his limited magical knowledge on, and he had been pleasantly surprised. It turned out most people didn''t know how to react to a bunch of tentacles growing out of their shadows to strangle them or to corrupting orbs of darkness. The homemade flamethrower had been retrieved and sent to Techlord for study by a Mischief member accompanied by a newly made shadow person. That had been the less pleasant part of the magical surprise. James already knew this would happen based on his training on wild sewer fish and cockroaches, the first of which became aquatic scouts while the latter became a living security system. James might have been able to focus on his connection to infused objects to roughly keep track of his territory but it wasn''t like he was always checking it, so having a group of loyal relatively living subordinates watch over things and report to his more intelligent employees was nice. The zombie-like husks of infused weren''t as great. To call them zombies was a misnomer, really. They were still alive, they hadn''t gotten any weaker, and if anything they all looked better as black-skinned thralls than they did before, and overall they had simply become better versions of themselves, just ones with pretty empty heads. They weren''t dumb, just robotic, like Solvent. They could think clearly and resolve situations with their mental faculties alone, it just happened so that they only thought when James ordered them to or it helped better accomplish the orders James gave them. The mental manipulation really didn''t help with how conflicted James felt about having what were essentially slaves, especially black ones. That left a bad taste in his mouth. At least their skin didn''t have the brown undertone that even the darkest skins usually have, and instead had a more greyish one, akin to ash. So far there were six of them, two human men, one human woman, one orc woman, one elf enby, and a genderfluid clownfish person. That last one was a little different from the others, its scales weren''t all black but instead black and grey, which made for a neat visual if you ignored how they originally had been the stereotypical orange and white with black highlights. If all went as he expected then James would also have one additional human man and one goblin, which, now that he thought about it, he didn''t know much about. "Brok, could you tell me about your previous employer?" "Grench? They were an odd one. It ain''t every day you meet a true shaman who knows the old ways to start things off, but a primal goblin able to think beyond what''s for dinner is even rarer." "Primal goblin?" "Eh, most orcs and goblins you meet nowadays are mixed-blood. Even those with the purest lineage have some other sapient race or species as an ancestor somewhere, at least if they''re smart enough to be people. The first of us came out of demonic mushrooms, it took a couple of centuries before the first greenskin babies were made. Sometimes a small colony pops out in the wilds and it spawns a few primal greenskins before the locals or the Union get wind of it and burn it to the ground." "So primal greenskins, as you call them, are roughly the equivalent of human cavemen then?" "Eh, a bit, except dumber and more bloodthirsty. It''s why Grench having a clear enough head not only to think but become a shaman was impressive." "If those primal greenskins are so rare and born in the wild, why was Grench here in the worst of Zalcien? Shouldn''t they have been in a wild tribe out there? They mentioned something called the Flaming Poison." "They were, the Flaming Poison is the goblin tribe that took them in and raised them from feral beast to spiritual warrior. Hadn''t heard of it before but hey, you saw their tricks. Shamanism is shamanism. Anyway, they said they came to Zalcien and chose to stick around. That didn''t go well." "I see. Any hard feelings about their fate? I won''t mind, it''d be logical, I just want to know. And in case you''re wondering, I''m one of those people who value honesty. I need good men, not bootlickers." "Eh, we had some good times, they were a good boss, they paid us well and everything was fine, but that''s about it. In this line of work, you gotta be ready for a shift in power whenever. Friends can die at any point, money doesn''t." "That''s a grim outlook on life. An understandable one born from necessity, but still grim." Brok shrugged. "If it ain''t broke." "If you say so. Now, I still have a couple of bands of thugs to take over before they catch onto my invasion plan, so let''s try to make this as quick as possible." "Wait, we ain''t the first?" "Oh no, you''re the fourth gang so far, though there were also a lot of monster nests, some haunted places, and a handful of solitary lunatics." "Oh." "If it makes you feel any better, you''re the one that suffered the fewer losses." "Oh. Uh... Thanks?" "You''re welcome. So, my most loyal men will soon arrive and will instruct you on what to do from now on, at which point I''ll leave to scout and then continue our expansion plan. My men will then follow after me at some point, which means you will be left more or less autonomous for some time." "Doesn''t that mean you''ll leave us alone?" "Yes, that is what autonomous means. I appoint you as the one in charge when I''m not here, don''t disappoint me. I have my ways to watch over you, I''ll know if you try anything." "Didn''t plan on it, boss." "Good. Very good." This is going to be a very, very long day. Chapter 70 : The final step In the distance, James could see his ticket to the surface. A long elevator rose from yet another one of the numerous half-standing buildings of the Sunken City, some sort of bar, that went up to the top of the stone dome that covered it, leading to another station somewhere in the Sewer Network, one that lied beneath Zalcien proper, beyond the Black Border and its military surveillance. Through it, he could finally reach a proper civilized space, a place where he wouldn''t have to worry about giant cockroaches or raiding thugs. He didn''t have any official ID or anything of the sort that was necessary to build a life up there, but that sort of thing could be figured out later. Right now, he needed to secure the last outpost between his base back at the orphanage and his safest way to a better world. The last hostile bastion standing in his way was a regular house, though the one inhabiting it was anything but. According to Guy''s newly founded underground network, this house - the inhabited building the closest to the elevator station James wished to reach - was the domain of a powerful creature, one intelligent enough not to antagonize the administration of the Sunken City but still far too bloodthirsty and violent to be reasoned with. A demon. Which was why James had hired a very special someone for this one attack. A very special someone that was currently standing right next to James on the roof of some sort of library, studying the decrepit house and the various things about it that felt wrong, such as the way the structure appeared to bend and curve whenever it was almost out of sight. "Yes, I see why you felt the need to call me. It is far beyond a mere imp, though thankfully for us it still is nowhere close to a major demon." "How strong would you say this demon is then, Mesker?" The old mage rubbed his long thin curly white wick-like goatee with his black hand as he hummed. "I can''t be sure. The strength and density of demonic energies is a good way to make a basic assumption, but in the end knowledge and experience can overcome pure might. It seems like either of us two could handle it alone, but that''s exactly the sort of thing demons want you to think." "Could you tell us anything else about it? What kind of power or elemental affinity it could have?" "From what my scrying spell can discern, there is no particular concentration of energy of any sort besides demonic ones, so probably no elemental shenanigans to worry about. Whether this means we''ll deal with a brute or a warlock is yet to be seen." "Very well. I don''t suppose the performance I paid for covered fighting the demon yourself, does it?" "No, though I''ll stick around for now. In case somehow you make it mad and it goes on a rampage I''ll be ready to take it down before it causes too much damage." "Why not help us directly and avoid a confrontation with an angry demon?" "The administration has been fine with this demon because it stuck to this house and paid its taxes, and I sadly must stay true to my oath as a demonologist and not start a fight with a demon allowed to reside where it does without a bounty on its head." "I could just hire you again." "The bounty must be from a government of some sort, an entity or group of entities recognized as the ruling authority within a large enough area. And there''s no loophole here, the oath was made with those in mind, so people like you or mafia lords don''t count. The authority has to be legitimate and direct." "That''s a very specific oath. A very annoying one at that." "Welcome to dealing with demons." "Well, this is disappointing, though perfectly predictable. Which is why I had a little something prepared for this sort of scenario." The wrinkled old mage raised an eyebrow at that before someone else quickly joined the duo on top of the roof. A teen carrying a black sports bag and wearing a black full-body suit with some strange bulky metallic attachments, though most of them seemed hastily finished, some halfway covered in paint while others were clearly made of scraps, and their repartition on the suit was hazardous at best. The suit covered even the head, though it was unclear whether it had holes for the mouth, eyes, nose, and ears because of the strange helmet covering it. An hourglass-like shape at the front, the bottom half was made of metal and covered the mouth and nose, with the top half being a black tinted visor. A thin plate covered the top of the head, going from the visor to the back of the head, while a pair of thin metal straps went from the connecting points of the visor and mask and from the back of the head to where the ears would be, instead covered by speakers and their cushions, though it was obvious they had been modified from the way odd components were attached to them. "Techlord, just the man I needed to see. Your new suit seems to be going well." "If I had been given some more time, maybe it wouldn''t look like a cheap ninja costume." "Is it functional?" "Somewhat. It is far from finished, but it should be as effective as my old suit. At least not that far off." "If Barry and Larry''s stories are to be believed, this is already impressive. Though, if all goes according to plan, you shouldn''t need to use it." Techlord grinned beneath his mask at that, patting the bag he was carrying. "This bad boy has to be one of my greatest works. Securing the materials was hard and incredibly costly-" "The Commando bought everything with instructions from Guy and my money, Techlord." "-but it was definitely worth it. Not even a demon will be able to ignore that." "Let''s put that to the test, shall we? Techlord set up your... Ahhh, set up the Techzooka." Why is he so horrible at naming stuff... Mesker apparently wasn''t expecting to hear the word Techzooka either, though probably for a different reason. "The what now?" Sam himself, on the other hand, was shaking like a gleeful child opening their presents on Christmas day. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Uh, I should check if Christmas is a thing here. "You got it, boss!" He knelt and reached inside the bag and pulled out piece after piece of black metal, quickly assembling them first into a tripod and then a glorified tube with a few odd ends here and there, handles and scopes to aim it, and a trigger to fire it. In other words, a mounted bazooka. "Any specific place I should aim at?" "Mesker?" "Are you seriously going to use a rocket launcher against a demon? Are you insane?" "Mesker." "Sorry, it''s just... I wasn''t expecting this. The energies seem to be concentrated in the attic." "Aim at the ground floor then. Either it''s deceiving us to minimize damage or it''s truly hidden there, in which case I''m certain the fall and debris from the explosion will do the trick." "Got it." Sam took hold of one of the bazooka''s handles and carefully aimed it, taking into consideration the weight of the projectile and the curve it would follow to be sure to hit the house and cause as much destruction as possible. "Techzooka aimed. Charging ammunition." Techlord reached into the bag once more and this time pulled out a black orb before sliding it into the bazooka''s rear entrance, the ball fitting perfectly into the weapon." "Was that a Core? You''re going to fire A CORE?" "Better be safe than sorry. Besides, it would have taken too long to craft rockets specifically made with this weapon in mind. The... The Techzooka is custom-built, after all." "Ready to fire. Step back and stick to the side, this bad boy should release a huge amount of energy behind me when it fires." "Should? SHOULD? I''m sorry, I may not know much about modern weaponry but I''m certain you''re supposed to test them beforehand." "We tested a smaller model, with a smaller Core. This one is the only one of its size that we can afford to waste, the rest is too valuable." "I doubt a miniature bazooka is a safe way to check the effectiveness of a normal-sized one..." "Ease your worries, Mesker. Techlord is a genius, and I have yet to see any of his works fail." Aside from the Tech Mech but that time it was Sunburn that blew it up, not a system failure or a design flaw. "Very well. Mesker, let us go back down. We wouldn''t want to disturb Techlord in his work." "I''m already ready to fire, boss. You''re not bothering me." "Besides, we need to be ready to act as soon as possible in case the demon survives. At least I do." "Boss, are you listening to me?" Mesker nodded as he twirled his thin goatee around his finger. "I can see the wisdom in your words. Yes, let us descend." The mage simply stepped off the ledge of the roof as though he was walking on air before beginning to float down. "Boss?" "I''ll tell you when to fire. I believe in you, Techlord." "You''re afraid it''s going to explode, aren''t you." James was already done crawling halfway down the wall of the library when by the time he answered Sam. "I believe in you!" The genius inventor scoffed, but he quickly focused back on his latest toy. It would be embarrassing for his employer''s concerns to be confirmed, probably deadly too but Sam had already survived an explosion once before, he would do it again. It wasn''t like he had many more pain receptors left to feel anything anyway. Back down on the ground, James joined the half of the Commando that had joined him here, all equipped with infused electroguns with infused batteries. He wouldn''t be taking any chances. Their equipment had been improved as much as it could be in such a short timespan, they now all wore the same suit - infused, of course - which looked roughly similar to something an actual commando would wear, with padded clothes and resilient armor pieces in key areas, along with masked helmets with a breathing apparatus and goggles included. "How is it going, everyone?" "It feels weird, boss." "Yes, I must admit that demonic energies have odd effects on my perception too. Rest assured, we-" "I wasn''t talking about that, boss. I was talking about how there''s only half of us." "Yeah, who cares about the spooky house. I don''t like having only half the banter." "It feels like I''m missing my twin." "Didn''t you all meet the same day I recruited you? Weren''t you complete strangers before that? How did you all get so close so quickly?" "Eh, life and death situations improve bonds and all that." "Mama always said I was very quick at making friends!" "There''s also the fact that, no offense boss, but we''re basically the only regular people around. We never see the four that went up, Guy is busy with his information stuff, Techlord is Techlord, and everyone else is either a ghost or a rat. No ghost rat yet thankfully." "Yet, yet." "Yes, well I do hope our latest mass takeover will improve the diversity of employees. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have to go to the front line to order the firing of an experimental weapon. Be on your guard, don''t forget we''re dealing with a demon here." "Got it, boss!" James left the Commando behind as he slid up to the house, taking care to put at least a hundred meters between the demon''s home and himself. If the rumors were to be believed this was roughly how close entities were allowed to be before the demon dragged them inside to subject them to tortures beyond mortal imagination. This was likely a little exaggerated, humans were capable of doing and coming up with incredible horrendous acts themselves after all, but so far the distance part of the rumor appeared to be true. James stared at the building that was desperately trying to sneakily break the laws of reality and began to form a black orb of swirling darkness. At its core, Shadow Ball was a simple spell, at least according to James'' magic guide, but his unique physiology and his prominent affinity for everything related to darkness as well as the fact he had every Aspect known to man as far as he was aware turned the simple spell into a weapon even professional magic casters would be wary of, at least James assumed so considering Mesker''s eyes were fixated on the slowly growing orb and sweat began to flow down the old man''s wrinkly brow. James waited for his Concentrated Shadow Ball - an improved version of the base spell that took longer to cast - to be at least the size of a beachball before even considering giving Sam the signal to fire, although he still waited a few more seconds for it to grow slightly bigger before forming a tentacle that rapidly slid its way onto the old library''s roof and settled next to Sam and his Techzooka. "Fire." Sam pressed the trigger and in a resounding boom, the Techzooka blasted the infused Core it used as ammunition into the house, releasing a cloud of pressured darkness on the opposite side that twisted and broke and infused everything that stood behind Sam on the old library''s roof. The infused Core flew through the air, leaving a pure black trail of nothingness in its path that looked as though someone was actively erasing reality in a curved line, before it hit the front of the house, piercing through the wall as it began to crack. And once it was inside and shattered, all hell broke loose. In a great howl, a spinning pillar of darkness rose from the house, reaching high into the subterranean sky of the Sunken City as it grew thicker and thicker, the house disappearing within the ever-expanding column of screaming shadows. The air itself couldn''t escape it as furious winds joined the pillar, the various people accompanying James having to fight against the pressure to avoid getting dragged into the maelstrom of power. The shadows weren''t the only things screaming, the noise they emitted was the howling of a tornado, the fury of a tsunami of power, but the yell that joined them was all too organic, like a hyena given the lungs of a whale, a thousand bats singing in sync, a titan''s last breath - it was a demon''s voice. Somehow, through the darkness of the pillar, a figure began to appear. It was hard to distinguish, and frankly, James wouldn''t have been surprised to be the only one able to perceive it, but it was there. It was humanoid, twice the size of a man, sickly thin and yet with an incredibly wide bulbous head, not unlike a jellyfish. What at first glance looked like wings emerging from its back were in truth bundles of tendrils or veins only pretending to be so, and even then they looked oversized for the tall figure they were attached to. And slowly, though it struggled, it was walking out of the pillar. "Thou who dares destroy my abode with an unworldly storm." One step. "Thou who defies a child of chaos born." Another. "Thou who shackles the darkness of the world to do thine biding" And another. "Thou who believes thyself mine opponent, grinning." A laugh. "Thou has earned my attention. Prepare thyself for retribution." James threw his Shadow Ball, now twice his size, straight at the creature. Chapter 71 : The demons duel Beneath a house in Zalcien not far from the Black Border, beneath the Sewer Network hidden a step under the regular sewers of the city, in the suburbs of the Sunken City, was an old bar. An elevator rose from it, reaching another building in the Sewer Network, as they both acted as stations, ways to travel from the depths to the surface above - though the last stretch of the journey had to be done on your own. Within that bar, a man sat on a rug on the floor, his legs crossed, meditating. His baggy white pants and scarf contrasted beautifully with the golden shine of his sandals, anklets, bracelets, belt, and torc, the precious metal resting against his pale skin. Scars covered the subtle muscles on the man''s frame. In contrast, his face was perfectly preserved, a youthful yet experienced and wise look, a soft roundness that still let more angular features assert themselves in the chin and cheeks, as well as his incredibly long pointed ears that reached behind his head, their size similar to his forearms''. His hair was long, going down to the end of his spine, and was a beautiful platinum blonde. Despite being assigned to oversee a station, that wasn''t the man''s true purpose. His task was to keep an eye on the entity that scared most would-be travelers away. And as he meditated, a wave of power came from where the creature was sealed. A dark foreboding thing, a corruptive force that flowed and raged and screamed. His eyes snapped open, revealing his amber irises and triangular pupils as he instinctively looked where the energy was coming from despite the wall that stood between them. He immediately stood up and readied himself for battle, and right as he stepped out of his bar yet another blast of the same dark foreboding power resonated, though this one felt different. Purer, somehow. He had no time to lose. The cursed house might have been near, but demons tended to bend the laws of reality wherever they went. Hopefully, he would arrive in time.
The Shadow Commando - half of it to be precise - watched in awe as their employer, Silhouette, threw an orb of dark energies bigger than he was at the face of the gigantic demon that was slowly walking out of the pillar of rampaging shadows that had been born from Techlord''s weapon. They had had a hard time discerning the demon''s silhouette in all the moving black, but after it began to speak it grew clearer and clearer as it neared its freedom. The orb had hit something within the pillar and exploded, creating a massive sphere of black destruction that soon joined the pillar to grow it even bigger, the demon''s figure lost in the overwhelming power on display. They were ready to celebrate, yet they all noticed something that froze their enthusiasm before it could get out. Their boss was readying more attacks and backing away from the pillar. "Ah ih oh ah ih oh uh, thou has certainly some nerve." Something emerged from the pillar, a foot, rachitic, muscles barely visible between the obvious bones and leathery skin, red and covered in small black spots, black blue talons digging into the floor, all four digits splayed out. "Though it is no surprise for a demon to unnerve." This time it was the entire leg and the hips that emerged from the pillar, just as red and covered in small black spots as the first foot, just as skeletal. As it left the tornado of dark power it dragged the rest of the leg of the first foot along, and it also revealed something else, a bent spine, leaving the entire upper body standing parallel to the ground in the pillar of swirling and howling shadows. "Tell me, thou who dares challenge me." The spine began to right itself, the obvious vertebrae snapping into place like the fangs of a hyena on bones it crushed to feed. The demon''s concave torso was revealed, a ribcage covered in the bare minimum amount of red black spotted skin to not be considered bones, the hollowness inside leaving no place for any organ whatsoever. Its long arms dropped from its shoulders, hanging lifelessly as it slowly drifted left and right, as though dragged by an invisible wind that ignored the force of the typhoon of darkness behind it, its blue talons slightly twitching and grabbing at nothing. From its back sprouted what could only be described as a network of veins mimicking wings, the red and blue thin fleshy tubes twisted in knots in spots and completely free in others, an unnatural abomination of biology and anatomy that surely didn''t resemble the veins in the wings of a bat. The "wings" flexed, the blood vessels getting thicker and thinner as fluids circulated through them and driving the combined appendages to spread outward in pumps and spurts. The most horrifying feature of the demon had to be its head or lack thereof. Its neck didn''t end in anything with a skull, and instead a flower of red tentacles, wrapped around another tightly, only leaving a few open spots that could be glanced through to see blue fangs gnashing at the air within. Admittedly this part of the body was the one with the most and biggest black spots, but even then they were outmatched by its natural red. The tentacles squelched as they moved to mimick lips as the demon spoke. "What is the name of mine enemy?" Had James still had teeth he would have gritted them. Oh, to hell with it, let''s just make some solid spots in my body. Hopefully, it''ll be as cathartic. "My name is Silhouette, beast. What is yours?" The demon let out another one of its eerie laughs, a discordant mixture of sounds that made no sense and seemed to involve the thing''s entire body judging by the grinding of its bones as it shook. "Ah ih oh ah ih oh uh! What gall thou have, mine opponent. Mine name is Sydakors, now lament." "Mesker, I don''t suppose you know anything about a demon named Sydakors." Though the old wizard was further away, he was still within shouting distance. He didn''t seem to appreciate being brought into the conversation if the grumbling was to be believed, but he still answered. "I''m a demonologist, not a demon social media expert!" Sydakors for its part chuckled, a sound eerily similar to the one it made when nothing but without proper vocalization. "I''m afraid there is no fame attached to mine name, challenger. I do not mind, anonymity is for the better." "On that, I can agree. I suppose you''re not in the mood to surrender or spout out your weaknesses, are you?" "Ah ih oh ah ih oh uh! No, no, I must crush thine hopes already, I am not in the mood for playing fairly." The thing stretched, its tentacles uncurling as its spine spined multiple times before all settling back into the place. "Centuries spent sealed away, make a demon want to play." "Everyone, fire!" James unleashed his own attack as he ordered his men, Shadow Balls flying through the air to impact the demon''s body as the half of the Shadow Commando accompanying him pulled the triggers of their infused electroguns, black electricity crackling madly as multiple bolts fused on their way to the demon before impacting it, loose sparks flying off from its body attracting back the energy from the pillar of darkness into the attack, the tornado of shadows shrinking and finally dissipating as it transferred its power to the new assault against the demon. The freakish thing simply chuckled again, and it began to leisurely walk towards James, ignoring every blast it received. "Elementally attuned weaponry, a fitting choice I must admit. But they are far too weak, don''t thou see it?" James felt like something was wrong - even worse than the situation appeared - and immediately turned into a shadow and went as far away from his initial spot, his men, and the demon as possible, barely avoiding the hundreds of spike-like tips of loose veins that planted themself into the ground where he had been. So far melee damage hasn''t been that effective against me, but I''m not risking that again something like that! "Master of shadows, thou are but a forgettable thing in the face of existence. But the power of the body, it is a core part of life and violence." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Sydakors continued to walk slowly after James while his wings unfurled and the numerous blood vessels that made them up continued to flail in the air and chase after him, completely disregarding everyone else and somehow keeping up with James despite the growing distance between him and the demon''s body, the veins stretching to reach further and further away. "Your flight is disappointing though predictable. Mortals like thou all fear the inevitable." What can I do against something like that? Every magic stuff I''ve thrown at it so far has barely been effective and I have no technological trick on me, not that it would be all that useful either. I mean, it hasn''t been that useless since there are still infused spots on its body, but... Wait. Could that be it? James kept on running away but focused on its connection to infused materials, trying to get a feel for the demon''s infected skin. He could feel something where he knew the demon was, but it was unlike anything he had ever been connected to thus far. In truth, it wasn''t flesh, not like Polisson and Mischief''s members felt, but neither was it like any inorganic material James knew. It was... Otherworldly. But there was still something for him to pull at, no matter how hard and uncomfortable it felt. "Oh? Are thou trying to control mine flesh, mine enemy? Ah ih oh ah ih oh uh, go ahead, control the puppet of mine soul and see. Yes, see the glory of demonkind, of power beyond body and mind." The demon dug some of its veins into the ground and James quickly jumped out of his shadow state into the air, barely avoiding the red and blue spears that rose where he slithered. "Stop right there, demonic scum!" A young platinum-blonde man wearing white baggy pants and various golden accessories arrived at the scene, jumping high into the air and raising his glowing fist to strike Sydakors. "I call upon mine right as an official diplomat of the demon realm in this land, I call upon the right to duel one with a hostile hand." The blonde froze mid-air, his attack dissipating before he was thrown next to Mesker, the old wizard raising a shield to protect himself and the Shadow Commando from the impact. As soon as he was away a transparent dome formed over the beast and James, encasing them both in an arena as it chuckled. "No interruption, no ally, now it''s do or die." James reformed in his classic Silhouette form on the edge of the arena, sneakily trying to pierce or infuse it with small tentacles as he kept pulling at his connection to Sydakors'' infected flesh. He just had to win some time. James began to charge an attack as he fired another barrage of Shadow Balls at the demon, it laughed once more and let its head tentacles get loose, revealing the gaping maw filled with blue fangs constantly twitching and pulsing and gnawing. "Try as thou might thou won''t vanquish me, mine dearest Silhouette, for thou are just another one of mine prey that given a few centuries I''ll forget." "You sure talk a lot for someone with no lips, Sydakors." "Ah ih oh ah ih oh uh! Thou are one to talk mine opponent, despite being oh so silent. Would thou prefer a quiet death, a drawn-out final breath?" "With you around, I don''t think a quiet death is in the realm of possibilities. "Thou are quite mistaken, though understandably so. After centuries sealed I just have to let loose, thou know?" "Not really. Had I been in your place I would have gone home right away to see my friends and family." "Thou do not know anything about demons, mine enemy. Only a demon''s self and resources are worthy of worry." "Then demons must have quite a sad life. I pity you." "Thou would the first to do so. Now cease wasting our time, strike thine blow. I may be free from the clutches of time and mortality, but mine fun is getting boring much too quickly." James unleashed another spell, Shadow Spear, a field of black spikes rising from beneath the demon''s body and piercing it, ridges and hooks acting turning each spike into a harpoon that tore away flesh whenever the demon tried to move. "Are thou too dull to understand me? Thou will get nowhere hacking at my body." Sydakors ignored the spikes and kept on walking, chunks of red black-spotted flesh getting ripped away and exposing even more and even blue bones sharing the same black affliction, the darkness slowly spreading on the main body while the loose chunks instantly turned black and fell apart. Before James had the time to react or retort Sydakors was upon him, its veiny wings reassembled and lifting it above the ground to dive with its open foot talons on James, too fast to evade or block. James tried his best to move while shifting into a shadow but it didn''t matter, the blue talons dug into the ground and ripped him out, disregarding his power as the demon flew as high as the dome of the arena would allow it. "Thou are not the first master of matter and change I encounter. Mine arena won''t bend and mine mind will shackle the body as ever. Demons are not mortal beasts of flesh and blood no matter what appears, we are souls puppeteering avatars of mortal hates and fears." The demon raised its taloned foot to its tentacle head, nearly crushing James in its grasp despite his lack of bones. "Go ahead, claim mine flesh, mine blood, mine bones, mine organs, but all obey my wit. I have controlled what wasn''t mine for centuries, thou think you can overcome it?" James struggled, he tried to melt down into a liquid or shadow, he tried to rise as a gas, but no matter what he did his body refused to move. All that he had control over was his mind. Not sure if that''s a good or bad thing... Thankfully he had managed to keep holding onto his still charging attack, hidden from view inside his body''s shadowy flesh. And with the demon''s maw right in front of him, this might be his best chance... If his theory about the demon''s bravado regarding the Transformation Aspect was right. "Do you truly think I would be so weak as to only affect the body? I am Silhouette, master of the Shadow Commando, creator of Mischief, chosen of Greenwood. The darkness I control is beyond you, Sydakors." "What big words for such an insignificant entity. Boast, dear mortal, for thine demise is me." "Do you not believe me, child of chaos? Then check for yourself. Look at your body. Look at your mind. Look at your soul." "Ah ih oh ah ih oh uh, if that is thine desire, I shall check upon mine inner fire." It was hard to tell the mood of a creature with no head, but judging from the way all the wiggling tentacles and veins of the demon froze at once before frantically shaking, it wasn''t pleased with what it had found. When it spoke again, its nightmare of a voice had lost all playfulness and its talons dug even deeper into James and almost brought a scream out of him. "Stains on mine soul no longer pristine? How have you managed such a sin?" "Look at me, Sydakors. Aren''t demons masters of the soul?" The grinding of its blood fangs grew louder and louder, and the demon passed James from its foot to its hand before raising him above its maw, letting him see the broken purple fractals within that served as the beast''s insides, going against all laws of logic and physics. "If thou insist, mine enemy, I see in thou humanity, mortality, in shadow clad. Beneath, hidden, discreet, the touch of death, kind, welcome, glad. But there is something else hidden further behind it all, something I wish to understand before thou fall." The demon almost dropped James into its gullet, barely catching him by the tip of Silhouette''s tail. "Behind dark mortality, behind the sweet release of death, something so faint it doesn''t need stealth... A foreign yet familiar sensation... It reeks of..." The demon''s body froze once more, but this time it didn''t resume moving. "Oblivion..." The fangs and veins and talons and tentacles began to lightly twitch, the creature''s grasp on James slipping just enough for him to break out and unleash what he had been preparing so far, his body opening to let loose a small orb of darkness that fell past the maw and into the purple space beyond before he quickly morphed into a bird-like shape mostly made of gas to fly away as fast as possible, the demon''s arms following after him and grasping at him but the blue talons barely missing the vaporous part of his form as the tentacles and fangs of the head tried to grab the orb before it went too far but getting caught in each other. The spiky tips of the veiny wings rushed after James, forcing him to twist and bend in the air to avoid the hundreds of attacks as best as he could, still getting pierced by dozens of them before he finally reached the ground to melt into a shadow and keep on running away. And it was at that point the orb blew up and overwhelmed the demon''s insides. Within its body darkness spread, violet fractals and impossible shapes floating in an infinite space all getting erased and replaced by pure black, some of it escaping from the body via the open maw and turning into a pillar of swirling shadows reminiscent of the one that had first destroyed the house the demon was sealed in, the shadows of the pillar impacting loudly against the transparent dome the demon had created and quickly filling it as the beast screeched like never before. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!" Outside the arena, the Shadow Commando had to cover their ears to even stay conscious, Sam relying on his helmet and Mekser and the golden monk using their inner energies to ignore it and instead focus on the battle within. Soon the whole dome was filled with darkness, and not long after that, it collapsed, the ambient shadows returning to the ground and converging into a single point in the middle of the improvised arena. Sydakors'' blackened body lied, unmoving, and upon it stood Silhouette. "This... Isn''t... My end... I will return... With a friend..." A purple and black cloud of fractals rose from the demon''s mouth and- "No." The cloud froze, the black growing. "You stay, or you die." "Fool! Demons don''t die! We-" The black of the cloud, still spreading, began to contort and choke the purple. "Obey. Or disappear." "Thou cannot! I will not rot!" The black of the cloud struggled to spread any further, and in some spots, the purple even managed to take back space. "As you wish, Sydakors." The black of the cloud tore itself apart and dissipated into nothing, the purple suddenly shrinking and flickering, pained and breathless groans barely managing to escape it. "Off to oblivion with you." James formed a tentacle and cut through what was left of the cloud, turning it into a handful of violet wisps that faded away into nothing. James returned to his men, dragging Sydakors'' lifeless body behind him as the Shadow Commando watched him with awe. "Bring the corpse back to the orphanage. Keep it under close surveillance." James collapsed into a shadow that nestled itself inside the corpse''s own. Chapter 72 : The monk Mesker rubbed his wick-like beard with one of his black arms as he stared at the corpse of the demon Silhouette had killed, the mysterious monk that had arrived soon after the fight began at his side. Killing a demon was a complicated matter, and it was why exorcists didn''t need to be powerful to make a living and be helpful even to the most mighty of Supers. Demonic entities were made of demonic energies, and without the right knowledge to counter them, they might seem invincible. Still, once you knew how to ignore this natural resistance they were much easier to handle. In this case, although the demon - Sydakors if what he heard from the two opponents'' banter was correct - was a bit stronger than the average lone demon in the middle of nowhere, it was still a starved one that Mesker reasoned he could have defeated on his own, even without his usual preparations. It might have been bloody, but it would have been a victory. The fact the monk was so quick to join the fight meant he either happened to pass by, which would be a great coincidence, or he was watching over the demon, which would then mean that either he was under an oath similar to Mesker''s own that restricted his ability to fight the demon or that he believed it would defeat him, in which case the demon probably had a few tricks it hadn''t had the chance to use against Silhouette or were reserved to exorcists, things which Mesker himself could have some problem handling. Still, although he didn''t know much about Silhouette aside from what the man himself was willing to share and what Mesker managed to glean from his subordinates, Mesker didn''t expect his encounter with Sydakors to go this way. The blast from the enchanted weaponry and Core that this Techlord had put together was impressive, and it convinced Mesker to update some of his tower''s defenses to reflect attacks rather than just block them. The follow-up powerful spells wielded by Silhouette were just as remarkable, and although their structure was incredibly simple the power and intent behind them would make some professional mages he knew blush, especially without any ritual or obvious casting focus to amplify his powers. But what he did with the demon''s soul... That was something else... The platinum-blonde monk approached the old wizard, his golden accessories chiming against his skin as he walked, his triangular pupils still focused on the demon''s body. "Who are you people and what did you do." "No introductions? Poor manners from a follower of Triotaur." The monk finally stopped looking at Sydakors'' corpse and met Mesker''s gaze with a frown. "Introductions aren''t as important as figuring out what happened here, demonist." Mesker scoffed. "No, demonologist. Do not mistake me for one of those fools who believe demons can be tamed." The monk narrowed his eyes. "Which order?" "I''m an independent. My name is Mesker Duskenfer the Third, scholar, pyromancer, and as I have stated earlier demonologist, what is yours, monk?" The monk''s long pointed ears twitched when he heard Mesker''s name. "Duskenfer? Like-" "Like Sacredawn Duskenfer, my esteemed great-uncle and master, as well as a historical ally of your cult." The monk stared at Mesker for a few seconds before bowing, all animosity gone from his face. "My apologies, Duskenfer. I am Bo, servant of Malk." "Malk? Wasn''t your leader Chiz?" "The honorable Chiz joined the great Triotaur in his realm a month ago. The honorable Malk has taken his place." "Uh, good for her. So, may I know why you were in the vicinity of a demon-infested house?" "You will not make me forget why I came here, Duskenfer. I''m the one curious about your involvement with the release of the demon Sydakors, as well as who are the people currently handling its corpse." "And do you have the authority to force any of us to speak?" "I do. We were hired for a long-term contract by Lady Bones to watch over every demonic spot in the Sunken City. I was the one in charge of the surveillance of this house." "You people must have done a poor job then, considering the imp infestation I had to deal with when I moved here." "The contract is a recent affair. The honorable Chiz had been contacted but had refused the offer, whereas the honorable Malk did. Now, will you talk?" Mesker sighed. "I suppose I must. I was hired as a demon expert by this group, to help them evaluate the threat it might represent. Since there was no official bounty on the demon''s head, I couldn''t do anything more." "Yes. Sydakors'' status as an official diplomat of the demon realm to the Old Zalcien two centuries ago complicated the situation." "In any case, they chose to handle the demon themselves. They fired an experimental weapon to weaken it, and then their leader, Silhouette, handled the situation." "This Silhouette, I assume it was the creature fighting the demon? The one that disappeared into nothing?" "Yes." Bo began to frown. "The one that showcased faint traces of demonic energies distinct from Sydakors''?" "Yes. Rest assured, I had the same worries and scried him myself. Based on the results I obtained I believe Silhouette has a demonic ancestor but nothing more. You saw it yourself too, had he had any knowledge on demonic matters he would have employed them to defeat his opponent much sooner." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "And how do you explain what he did to that soul? To seal a demon with no vessel is an easy task, but to break them... Even demon lords would fear this sort of power, or harness it to lay waste to their enemies. I only know of two methods to achieve this sort of power... A willing contract certified by an entity equal in strength to interstellar gods... Or the Destruction Aspect..." Mesker looked at Bo and guessed the thoughts that went through his head. The old wizard considered all that he knew about the cult of Triotaur and Silhouette to find the best course of action but in the end, it was his instinct that led the words that left his mouth. "How old are you, Bo, servant of Malk?" "What sort of question-" "Let me give you a piece of advice, from an old veteran to his junior." "Junior? In case you hadn''t noticed I-" "You''re a celestial high elf, I had noticed, but you can''t be older than a century, and how much of that time has been spent as a child or hidden away in a monastery far from the world? Here, in the real world, you will find that it''s in your best interest to keep secrets. A good exorcist is one that doesn''t ask questions." "But-" "I told you what I could, and you saw him yourself. Does this look like something an exorcist should handle?" "No, but-" "Then stay out of it." "But he could-" "Threaten the peace of this city? Yes. Just like Doctor Bones. Just like the honorable Malk. Just like Triotaur. Yet I never saw any member of your order go against Abrakaboom." "Then maybe we could-" "Recruit him? Hire him to permanently get rid of troublesome demons'' souls? Maybe, but those are matters best discussed freely. Using what you know as blackmail... Tell me, do you think that you could have handled that demon on your own? Do you think you could handle someone with no training in exorcism that still managed to beat it?" The relative calm and friendliness Mesker had gotten out of Bo disappeared, the monk returning to his earlier distrusting professional behavior. "... You are quite different from the esteemed Sacredawn, Mesker Duskenfer." "I''m alive, he''s not. Now, if you wish to know anything more, inquire with Silhouette''s employees. I have already gone beyond my required duties, and I do not wish to have a man like him owe me a favor. Those things never end well." Mesker walked away from the monk and created a wall of golden and purple flames that danced and quickly rose taller than him. "Farewell, Bo, servant of Malk. Do not antagonize forces beyond you and we may meet again." The celestial high elf frowned before bowing. "Farewell, Duskenfer. I do hope you''ll find the time to visit our monastery, your great-uncle the esteemed Sacredawn was always welcomed." The old wizard scoffed before stepping into the fire, the flames collapsing behind him and leaving nothing behind but black marks on the stony ground that the celestial high elf stared at for a few seconds, lost in his thoughts and the contemplation of his encounter. But he didn''t have the time to ponder about the heir of his cult''s ally or his words, he still had a job to do. With a few jumps fueled by celestial energy, Bo was back in the air before landing in front of one of the men carrying Sydakors'' body. "Whoa, dude! Watch it!" "Who are you?" "Nah, who are YOU?" "Like, yeah, you''re the one spooking us out dude." "That is not of your concern. Tell me who you are and everything you know about this Silhouette." The various goons carrying the body exchanged a look before nodding. "TECHLORD!" "WE GOT A PROBLEM!" "THERE''S A GUY ASKING STUFF!" "I THINK IT''S THE GUY THAT TRIED TO PUNCH THE DEMON!" A man clad in a black suit covered in odd contraptions landed next to them in a dramatic pose, one knee bent and his arms raised. "You know you don''t have to scream, I was right there." "Sorry, just wanted to be sure." "Yeah, in my last job some guy slept on guard duty. So many organs..." Techlord stood up and stretched his neck by tilting to the side and back to normal. "Bah, don''t worry. You guys go to the nearest base, I''ll handle goldilocks. After that we''re going back home." "Roger that!" "Good luck Techlord!" The merry goons suddenly picked up speed and ran away while still carrying the gigantic corpse of the demon as its head tentacles and vein wings dragged on the ground in a limp noodly mess. It sort of reminded Sam of how the car of some newlyweds had cans attached with strings to the back in one of the episodes of Captain Cyan Goliath had made him watch. He scoffed and rolled his eyes behind his helmet at the stray thought and the Shadow Commando''s behavior. They were lucky they were dealing with the body of an extremely resilient creature and not something more fragile and dangerous, like nitroglycerine. Now that he thought about it, he probably should take the time to create a contraption for that, just in case. "So, goldilocks, mind introducing yourself first?" "I''m the one asking questions here, Techlord, was it?" "And what do you have to ask that Mesker hasn''t handled yet, Bo?" The celestial high elf''s eyes widened. "How-" "Come on, with those big ears of yours you shouldn''t be unfamiliar with eavesdropping, right?" "But how-" "Because you are dealing with Silhouette''s head inventor, tinkerer extraordinaire, Techlord!" Sam posed one more time, this one in truth being an unorthodox combat stance with his right arm stretched forward toward the monk, gadgets ready to act, and the left one left in the air, not far from his waist and belt. "So, Bo, I''ll make myself clear. I don''t care one bit about who you are or who you work for. If you want to talk business, just leave a number to call or a place to meet up and wait for the boss to contact you. If you''re looking for trouble..." Small black electric arcs ran between the fingers of his right glove. "You''ll see why we knew we''d kill that demon." The monk stared at him, his brows furrowed and wisps of golden energy forming around his fingers. "You overestimate yourself, inventor. I am not one of the brutes that roam this accursed city underground. I am a monk of Triotaur, a servant of Malk, a demon killer. And today, I wield the authority of Doctor Bones, leader of the Sunken City. Do you truly wish to antagonize me, inventor?" Sam scoffed. "I am a guy who said no to Sunburn. What makes you think I would obey you?" Bo''s triangular pupils shrunk. "What?" "I faced the flames of the strongest Villain in Zalcien and lived to tell the tale. You think I''m scared of your little light show?" Sam''s left arm grabbed onto an electrogun attached to his belt and without leaving his pose he raised it and aimed straight at Bo''s forehead. "Go ahead. Fight me. We''ll see if you can outrun lightning." Bo grit his teeth and slowly backed away, the golden aura that had begun to form around his hands dissipating. "I''ll remember this, inventor." "Oh, I''m sure you will. And don''t try to follow me or the dumb brigade, I''ll know." Bo''s answer was simply to jump back high into the air before landing on a nearby building''s roof and running away, Sam keeping track of his every move both to ensure this wasn''t a ruse and to gather some intel. If he or even Silhouette got into a fight with the monk, it would be best to know what sort of trick he could pull and how he moved. Once he was sure the monk was gone, Sam sighed and got back on top of the old library to get his bag and Techzooka back. The weapon had survived the test and outdone all expectations, and he couldn''t wait to take some time to make more ammunition for it. Though it really wouldn''t be that fun, and sadly although he was an expert in gadgets he had to admit he had no idea how to make automatization work. One day, maybe. The teen shook his head, now wasn''t the time for dreams. He still had a bunch of idiots to escort and protect on the way back home. He just hoped Silhouette wouldn''t ask for his opinion on the corpse, he knew less than nothing about biology and anatomy, and demonic and eldritch stuff was always ten times more cryptic.
Back in his tower, Mesker rubbed at his beard as he thought back to what he had seen. Silhouette already was a mysterious and intriguing individual, one that was luckily very open to business, but learning that not only could he defeat a demon but also that he had the Destruction Aspect and could erase their soul with it... He needed to order a lot of materials for scrying rituals. Chapter 73 : Demonic marks Ugh... To say that James felt battered and bruised was an understatement. The magical exhaustion after casting multiple high-power spells alone would have been enough to justify passing out, the same went for the sheer exhaustion of dealing with an actual demon or of dealing with a powerful creature, but the thing that currently made James feel the worst were the numerous wounds on his body. Turned out that physical attacks did work on him, with the right tool. Even now, still barely conscious and hidden away in the shadow of Sydakors'' corpse, he could feel all the tears on his own body and the black liquid that flowed out of them like blood. Which didn''t make sense, James knew for a fact he didn''t have blood normally and in his shadow form he didn''t even have a physical form so how could he still be bleeding? Note to self... No more demons... Or invest in exorcism spells... He didn''t know how long he spent in that semi-conscious state, completely unaware of his surroundings and barely able to have lucid thoughts, but despite how hard it was to feel anything, the atrocious pain was all too easy to notice. And yet, strangely, James welcomed it. Feeling pain means feeling something, feeling something means death isn''t coming... Eh, I never thought I''d choose agony over death... Had James still been a human on Earth in a similar situation, he was certain he would have already given up. He never was that great at handling pain, and it probably would have blinded him too much to realize what he would lose if he truly let go. Now, however? Now he knew what it was like to die, to miss all that you knew, but he also had a much more obvious reason to hold on. If I don''t make it, Goliath will... And if he cries David will go to the depths of the underworld to claw my face... James chuckled in his mind before a spike of pain calmed him down. Alright, it looks like my mind has recovered enough to think useful things. Is my body ready too? James tried to leave his shadow state and get up, but all he managed to do was reopen some of the wounds that had managed to heal - or at least that''s what he felt like, given the lack of physical shape to have wounds in the first place. Ack! Alright, not doing that again for now... So, my mind is healed, my body is not, that''s two out of the self trinity covered... What about my soul? Can I meditate? James tried to ignore the pain and focus inward, and while he slowly managed to settle down into a meditative state the pain never went away, quite the contrary actually, for the closer he got to introspection the greater his agony grew. When he finally reached the point where he could properly maintain what he would call his "soul space", the great nothingness where his soul roamed and could interact with the hollow sphere of black threads that symbolized his numerous connections, and do so without having to focus on it actively, he took the time to observe things. And oh boy, were they bad. Gashes floated in the nothingness, red and blue marks that tore away at the abstract reality James'' soul floated in and revealed hints of an all too familiar purple realm of impossible fractals, making James panic. After quickly gazing into himself he was relieved to find that his soul was intact, though the shadowy film he had created to cover and protect it was damaged. Red and blue ruptures ran all over it, and in some places, the damage was so bad the darkness of the covering fell apart in patches that turned into an inky haze or black droplets floating around after some time. So that''s what felt like bleeding... I''m glad I did this in the first place... Well, while I''m here, might as well start fixing what I can. James first tried to reform the broken pieces of his soul covering but found it impossible to expand shadows from the cuts left behind by the demon, the red and blue glowing and denying his attempts. After that, he tried to gather the shadowy floating pieces in the various states of matter and put them back where they belonged, but once again the wounds glowed and drove away everything he tried to attach to them. So, just putting things back like it''s just slime like I do with my body doesn''t work... Ok, plan B. James pulled at the threads of the hollow sphere, idly noting that the way they connected to his soul currently made him look like the silhouette of a genie with a very odd lamp. Disconnecting the threads - the incarnations of his metaphysical and magical links to infused objects - was incredibly hard. Even once he had managed to take out a single one from the rest it kept trying to plunge into him, to return to normal and fix itself. It was exactly what James needed. Carefully James took the thread and approached it to one of the smallest of the numerous demonic cuts covering his "soul shell", and he slowly drove the tip into its black existence, trying his best to force it to emerge back on the other side of the cut instead of simply merging with the shell. All at once, the thread stopped struggling, seemingly understanding what he was trying to do, and let James manipulate it as he wished. Without an unruly thread, James was free to work with no worries, and he continued to sew the red and blue wound shut as his mother had taught him. She used to sew his torn clothes to repair them back when he was a kid and even a couple of times as a teen, and when the time had come for him to move out she had insisted he learned at least the basics, and he was very thankful for that right now. He missed her. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Now is not the time for that. Slowly but surely the sides of the cut met one another and began to blur together, the various red and blue parts moving and morphing and changing and shrinking until they popped out of existence, leaving only a smooth black surface behind that the thread merged into now that its task was done, and James could feel it twitch and slither beneath to merge back into the main bundle that formed his soul''s tail. Great, it works. Now I just have to do the same... A lot more times. Sigh, guess I better get to it. James pulled another thread from the rest much more easily this time, as though it understood what he planned to do with it, and got back to work. He continued the trend of working on the smaller wounds first, none of them looked like they were expanding so there was no rush, and without any constraint, he preferred to work his way up. Practice makes perfect, as they say, and as much as he wished he never had to do that again James knew better than to assume this would be his only time dealing with this sort of work, even if it was only to repair the ratlings'' clothes once they got up to shenanigans once they were on the surface. To think they were so close. Once James was done fixing himself, he could head straight up there and find a new home for them. Would he need to find them a school? They didn''t exist in the eye of Zalcien''s administration, and neither did he. Getting fake IDs and documents would probably be some of his first objectives along with finding a place to live, or at least a rudimentary outpost to plan their future and serve as a link back to the sewers'' team and the orphanage. Should he try to make himself a citizen of the ASC? Or a foreign visitor? Should he try to imitate his original identity or create an entirely new one? What about finding a job? Should he stick to being Silhouette to make a living or- Just as he was getting ready to pull another thread James realized his soul shell was completely healed. There were no more cuts or missing parts, the black flesh-like component of the shell apparently perfectly able to regenerate itself when it wasn''t obstructed. The patches that had already fallen and transformed still floated in different states of matter in the ambient nothingness, but James had an idea for that. Taking the first shadowy blob that he could find, James repeated his sewing technique on the large open gashes in the air, closing the red and blue cuts and sealing away the impossible purple fractals behind. The sheer size of the wound in the fabric of non-existence made the process longer than it needed to be, but it worked. One by one the gashes disappeared, only leaving behind floating black scars. Once James finished sewing shut the last one, he could feel a weight drop off his shoulder, a phantom pressure disappearing, and he sighed. Finally done... I need to be ready for the next time something like that happens. I can''t evade everything, I need better defenses AND better offenses to deal with tankier stuff. I relied too much on beating my enemies by constricting them with my tentacles or infusing them with my Shadow Balls, without that all I could do was run... James sighed once more, going back over all the ways he could have handled the fight better. Objectively there wasn''t much he could have done, Sydakors'' wings of veins were a nightmare to deal with, though now that he thought about it maybe a spell or technique to cut them off might have helped. Really, he had just been lucky that the demon wanted to play with him and completely ignored his infusion attempts. Though the fact it was confident it wouldn''t work against it was... Worrying. If he had listened to it, or worse if it turned out to have been right, he didn''t dare to think what it would have done to the Commando and Sam... And him. Let''s try to wake up and get up again... I don''t think they can handle themselves if I''m gone for too long. James'' astral self took a deep breath and ignored the few remnants of pain that still plagued his body, much more manageable than the constant agony he had been in previously. He emerged from his meditative state and slowly began to perceive his physical surroundings again. They were incredibly blurry and he couldn''t see much further than what his body was in direct contact with, but it was already an incredible improvement over his first attempt before his little healing session. He chose to wait for more of his senses to return, it wouldn''t be very comforting for his men if he suddenly stood up only to be completely deaf and blind after all. Still, what little perception he had regained was slowly growing to be enough to realize he was indeed still hidden within the shadow of Sydakors'' corpse and that said corpse was currently stored in the basement of the orphanage, if he recognized the walls and floor correctly. Considering the fact that he still had the image of dozens of children''s and nuns'' bodies spread out in this very basement engraved in his mind - probably for years to come - James was fairly certain that yes, he could recognize them. Since he was alone, James figured he might as well try to stand up now. As he began to rise from the shadow of the demon''s body as a black lump, a blurry black transparent head passed through the wall and looked down at him before the rest of the specter''s body passed through the wall and floated down to look at James, forming a small nubby appendage to poke at him. "Hello there. I''d appreciate it if you didn''t poke me." The ghostly child retracted its ectoplasmic arm and tilted its head. "Thank you." James finished returning to his usual Silhouette form before stretching and bending and turning, trying to work out the phantom kinks he could feel in his non-existent spine. "Say, why are you alone down here? Shouldn''t you be with the rest of the children and the nuns? They must be worried about you." The ghost raised its shoulders before dropping them. Now that his senses returned to working properly, James began to feel some familiarity with it. Wasn''t that the one that he had talked to first in the basement? Wasn''t her name Trixie? "Of course... You wanted to look at the demon didn''t you?" The blurry form of the ghost formed a foot to kick at an invisible pebble as arms appeared only for her to put her hands in imagined pockets. "I understand you''re curious, but it''s dangerous. Had it been still alive, it would have been able to hurt you - even though you have no body." She slumped her shoulders. "Come on now, let''s go back up. If hanging out with the other children and the nuns is so boring, you could just stay with me. I have to check on what everyone has been doing while I was busy, but after that, I have other children to take care of. I''m sure you would all have fun together." She cheered up and began to bounce. "Let''s go. Staying down here can''t be good for either of us." Chapter 74 : Going back up Dealing with the Shadow Commando and Sam had been swift. As soon as he had left the basement James crossed path with one of his loyal employees, and simply ordered them to lock up the basement to make sure no one would mess with the demon''s corpse, as well as to inform the nuns or Mother Greenheld of this as soon as possible, as well as to tell them that he would be taking one of the orphans on a little trip. "Uh, which one?" "Trixie, if I''m not mistaken?" "Yup!" After that he dropped by Sam''s auxiliary workshop he set up in the orphanage a few days before the expansion campaign to prepare the Techzooka and, after nonchalantly asking how long he had been gone precisely and being somewhat relieved that his soul mending had only taken a day, had invited him to go back to the sewers'' lair with him. "Sorry boss, but I think I''m going to stay down here one more day or two. I think there are a couple of things I could do to upgrade the security here, and on our way back I noticed a few interesting piles of scraps. Don''t worry, I''ll be back to working on new stuff soon, and we should still have enough made in advance not to worry about running out of merchandise. Worst case scenario Goliath should be able to handle it until I''m done." "No problem, but now that a path to the ''normal'' part of Zalcien is secured, we should be able to get our hands on new interesting materials." "Meh, not as many as you think. The good stuff requires tons of authorizations, we''d be better off making an outpost in the Scrapeland or dealing with folks from the center slums." "If you say so." "Tell Goliath I said hi." After that James directly left the orphanage in his civilian garb as himself. It wouldn''t do to let the word spread outside of his little group that Silhouette had a soft spot for kids. At least he thought so. Villainous kids might see that as an opportunity, or maybe people would start using children as hostages, or maybe there would assumptions about why he was so easygoing with them. Yeah, Silhouette is supposed to be creepy, but not a creep. Regular me is too dorky to be seen in that kind of light... I hope. Argh, how do other adults that hang out with kids that aren''t theirs do it? As soon as they passed the door Trixie looked around at the outside of the orphanage, taking in the sight of the ruined and abandoned Sunken City as she slowly floated forward after James. Maybe it was because he himself didn''t have a face, or perhaps it was the same way he knew she was a little girl and had recognized her despite all of the ghosts being so similar, but James could clearly tell that it wasn''t wonder or curiosity that filled her. It wasn''t even sadness, it was... Just realization. Empty, cold realization. "It''s one thing to hear that the world has changed, another to see it yourself, isn''t it?" She nodded absentmindedly. "I know how it feels. If you want we can take it slow before going up." She shook her head and passed him, running ahead. "It''s not this way!" She immediately lost all momentum and turned around to look sheepishly as she giggled - which, once you ignored the inane creepiness of the ghost of a child laughing, was pretty cute. "Come on, let''s go. Stay close to me and try to avoid attention. We wouldn''t want an exorcist to get any funny ideas." The walk to James'' usual elevator station was pretty short, all things considered. It wasn''t that far from the orphanage - though it still took a good thirty minutes to go there by foot, and Trixie occasionally stopping to gaze at a random piece of debris or skipping ahead in the wrong direction only made the walk longer. Really, the only reason it had taken that long for James to find Mother Greenheld''s orphanage in the first place was that he had taken his time exploring during his first visit. Still, at long last, they reached the station, and as soon as they walked in they were welcomed by the high-pitched and energetic voice of Mimi, the skeleton in charge of it, and today she was wearing an orange sundress with some floral motifs. "Hi, James! Long time no see, cutie. I don''t even remember you getting down here!" Uhhh, yeah. Forgot about that. Sneaking by the vampire guy and turning into a planer is more discreet than doing things right, but I''m pretty sure it''s not allowed. "Hi, Mimi. And yeah, my boss found a neat trick. Can''t tell you more than that though." Despite her empty eye sockets, James was almost certain she winked at him. "It''s a secret, I get ya! Say, who''s the adorable little darling floating behind you?" James wasn''t surprised that the skeleton could see the little ghost despite her best attempt at staying hidden, which for a ghost was unsurprisingly incredibly easy. It''s hard to haunt a house and make spooky pranks when anyone can see you floating about casually, after all. But, although James didn''t know much about the undead, he had found out through his Internet research after first meeting Mimi that all undead could sense "death energies" - whatever that meant - and therefore could sense each other at a basic level. It was why, despite being incredibly controversial and unpopular entities, most places with high security like banks had at least one undead staff member to make sure no one would pass through the walls of the vault. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "Her name is Trixie." "Hi!" "Hi to you too cutie! I hope James is being nice to you?" "Yeah! Very nice!" "That''s great! But seriously James, where did you find her. She''s adorable, but I can sense the traces of other ghosts on her and I don''t want you to be attacked by a horde of vengeful specters trying to keep her. Feral undead are no joking matter." "She''s from Mother Greenheld''s orphanage. Don''t worry, I have her approval." "Didn''t you promise not to go there last time?" "Remember my boss? He made a deal with her. Now there are a few of us hanging around there, taking care of things and repairing what we can. It''s pretty cozy once you get used to the random apparitions. Much better than my last place for sure." "Ah, if you say so. But trust me, James, it takes more than a few nice words to ''domesticate'' haunting spirits. If they were easy to handle they wouldn''t have had the will to stick to the mortal plane in the first place. Maybe I''m wrong and they regained their sanity since the last time we sent someone to check things up, but still, be careful." "Don''t worry Mimi, I know better than to get myself killed." "You''d be surprised how many times I heard that." "Hey, it worked out okay for me so far, no?" "Sure. So, why are bringing the little cutie up?" "I want her to see some non-dead kids. It''d be good for her to meet new people her age, and I''d rather not bring them down." "Oof, yeah, good call." "See? I''m not completely reckless." "I dunno, I don''t know that many guys who would trust a ghost girl, adorable as she may be." "Say, do I have to make some papers for her?" "Uh... It''s not all that often that someone''s first trip is on the way up... And usually, there''s not much you can do if a ghost just wants to go somewhere... Ya know what? I''ll let you go scotfree. Vladdy can''t sense undead, so there shouldn''t be any problem there. I only want one, tiny, little thing in exchange." "Sure, what is it?" "Honey, I NEED a new dress. The good shops down here are too far from the station for me to go and last time I showed up at the Black Block they almost burned me at the stake. Not that it would have worked, regular fire isn''t that great against bones, but it would have ruined my favorite blouse and skirt combo." "Eh, sure. I''ll bring it next time. Any preferences?" "Oh, I think I could go for green this time!" "Got it. Thanks, Mimi." "Thank you too, James!" After that, they quickly went up. As Mimi had told them the vampire in charge of the upper station didn''t notice Trixie, in fact, he didn''t even bring up the fact he hadn''t seen James go down in a while. He just kept on reading his magazine, not even bothering to check James'' papers - it made sense, he was one who set them up to be made in the first place, but still, he could have been someone else that just looked similar. In any case, once they were out of the Sewage Network station and the dirty flooded tunnels, James quickly checked that there was no one around before turning into what could be best described as a shadow centipede and crawling on the ceiling of the tunnel. The place was big enough that no one would notice him without purposefully looking up, which allowed him to rapidly and stealthily move about through the Sewage Network on his own without needing to wait for a sewer ferry. Martha had been amiable and a good source of basic info, but James liked his privacy and safety more. Plus, he didn''t have to stay close to the water full of atrocious organic and inorganic waste and countless bacteria. I''m no hypochondriac, but there''s a limit to what I''ll tolerate. At least the regular sewer tunnels have grates and are somewhat clean thanks to all the cockroaches roaming around, but this... Ugh, I''m sure I saw a body floating about the other day... "Try to stay in the air, Trixie. You don''t want to go splash in what''s down there." "Berk, water brown." "Exactly." After that the trip back to the passage to the sewer lair was easy. Thanks to his connections to infused objects James always knew where it was relative to his body, and the memory said body was capable of was nothing to scoff at. Being reborn into a different form was a weird experience, but at least James was glad his was a really useful one. Considering how many stories he had seen, read, or heard on the Internet about protagonists getting downright self-destructive bodies in stories on Earth, his shadow state really was on the nicer end of things. Especially with the whole "it has every Aspect known to man" thing. Once James was back to the little passage he returned to his humanoid form. Every member of the Shadow Commando was in the Sunken City, either in the orphanage or helping reorder the various gang bases they had conquered, so were Sam and Solvent, and Larry and Barry and their two bodyguards were still managing the shop - which James should visit soon - so the only people left in the sewer lair aside from the ratlings were Polisson and Mischief, who were all infused and loyal, so James had no reason to play pretend right now. Well, technically Grover was still alive and around, but James doubted the prisoner would hear him from his cell. "Kids, I''m home!" Before he realized what happened James was being jumped on by five furry bodies that sent him tumbling to the ground. "Daddy!" "Dad!" "Papa!" "Father!" "Old man!" James chuckled as he formed various tentacles to pet the ratlings under the curious gaze of Trixie, and it took him a few seconds to realize something. "Wait." James stood up and lifted the ratlings into the air as he did so, still petting them all the while. "You''ve grown." The last time he had seen them, the ratlings were still smaller than regular rats - David especially so and Goliath not so much, with their remarkable sizes - but now that he took a good look at them, they were way beyond that, closer to cats than rats. "Indeed, father." "It''s been a while, dad. How''s work?" "Foudre! Papa just came home, let him relax a bit." "Eh, I don''t think the old man knows what relaxing is." "Stop being mean David! Daddy, you''re going to stay around a little longer, yes?" James chuckled and put them back down on the ground as he ruffled Goliath''s hair. "Yes, I''m taking a short break. And look! I even brought a friend for you to play with!" The ratlings all perked up and looked behind James, noticing the ghostly form of Trixie for the first time. "Hi! Me Trixie. You fuzzy! Very cute!" "Oh gosh, thank you! You''re adorable too.'' "Hi, Trixie! I''m Goliath! Do you want to watch Captain Cyan with us?" "What Cyan?" "Oh, you''re going to love it. If David doesn''t spoil any of the episodes we try to show you." "Hey, I just like talking about the plot. It''s not my fault she doesn''t know about it yet." "David, do not." James simply watched over with an imagined smile on his non-existent face. Yeah, I feel like I made the right call. Chapter 75 : Family time Of course, the first activity the ratlings had come up with to bond with James was the age-old classic Captain Cyan watching. With their increased sizes the ratlings had a harder time all piling up in front of the screen of the phone they watched it on, and even now David and Blanche were absentmindedly trying to kick the other off Goliath''s back as they watched the show. James now had a good idea of what to buy for their birthday. "Captain Cyan! Red Revenant has teamed up with Violet Violence and Orange Revenge, and they''re going to blow up the Denim Dam!" "Curses! Green Girl, Blue Boy, get ready! With so many powerful foes, I worry this may be our toughest battle yet." "Of course mister Cyan!" "We''re going to kick their butts, Captain!" "Don''t be overconfident, Green Girl! You two have greatly improved, but never underestimate your opponents!" "Don''t worry, Captain. I learned from the best!" "Their ''toughest battle yet''? Didn''t Cyan fight against Prometheus, a Titan, as he was trying to reshape reality? Are a bunch of colored guys really worse than that?" "Dad, it''s different. It''s like... Like..." "Prometheus was a powerful foe, father, but he wasn''t a fighter. He was clumsy, and when he ultimately lost he admitted defeat. Revenant? That man is a killer, a maniac. Cyan doesn''t have time to breathe. A single mistake and Revenant will tear him apart. The other two are just distractions for Revenant to enact his scheme." "Couldn''t he breathe while Revenant is monologuing though?" "Yeah, gotta go with the old man on this one. Cyan should just grow a backbone already and put an end to Revenant permanently. Like, the dude just keeps coming back and breaking stuff, no jail can hold him, at one point just kill him and get it over with!" "But Captain Cyan is a good guy!" "Oh come on Goliath, killing things doesn''t make you evil. The old man just came back from killing stuff and I don''t see you throwing a tantrum over it, so why can''t Cyan do it?" "I think what our darling brother tried to say, David, is that Captain Cyan is a Hero. He has to uphold standards the rest of us don''t, including our beloved papa. Though I do agree our dear Captain is a bit too lenient on his nemesis." "You said it yourself, Blanche. There are rules Cyan must follow, although they''re not the most efficient ones. I respect his choice to uphold these rules, even if they get in the way." "Oh of course miss ''duty and hard work'' would agree with the no-fun part." "Pardon me, did someone say something? I''m afraid I can''t listen to the opinion of psychopaths." As the ratlings looked ready to go into an all-out brawl, Trixie the little ghost girl just turned to James and cheerfully spoke up. "Funny!" "Yes, their banter is nice. AS LONG AS THEY PLAY NICE TOO, OTHERWISE, THEY WON''T GET TO WATCH CAPTAIN CYAN FOR A WEEK." "Dad!" "Father!" "Papa!" "Daddy!" "Old man, you can''t do this to me!" "I''m not asking for much, am I? Just be nice to each other. What would Captain Cyan, uh?" "Oh yeah? Well, who''s going to stop us? Polisson?" "I''ll just be taking the phone." "You wouldn''t dare!" "Are you willing to take the risk, David?" "What if someone attacked us while you were gone? How could we contact you?" "Oh, David, I plan to stay here for a little while. And once I''ll leave, you''ll be coming with me. There won''t be any need for you to have a phone." "I will remember this, old man." "Wait, dad, did you say we''d be coming with you?" "Yes. I finally secured what should be a way out of the slums, and once we''re done with the preparations we''ll be able to all go live on the surface, in the real Zalcien." "The... Surface? With the sun, the grass, the trees, the people, and everything?" "The nice shops with nice clothes?" "With a school?" "With all the laws about not killing stuff?'' If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Father, weren''t you worried the surface would be dangerous for us? What made you change your mind?" "The slums are a dangerous place, a proper civilized would be much safer. Getting ourselves some official documents will be complicated, but I have a few friends I could ask for help." "What then?" "I don''t know. I haven''t been there yet. I think I''ll try to find us a nice abandoned building or apartment, I''ll infuse it until it''s usable, and then we''ll figure it out from there. I''d love to send you all to school so that you may have a proper education and know more about the world we live in." "Oh! Will we have pets? Regular families have pets up there, right?" "Not everyone has pets, Goliath. But I''ll think about it. Finding a place for us will be hard enough, but taking care of a pet might be a little too much. Plus I''m pretty sure there might be stricter rules of animal ownership than I''m used to in a place where virtually anything can suddenly become overpowered." "Oh..." "That''s not a no! Just a hard maybe." "Yeah!" "Father, with the way your professional life is shaping up to be... Will we be allowed to take the Hero Union''s tests?" "Kids, I want you to do what makes you happy, don''t worry about me. If you want to become Heroes, that''s fine with me! I''d be incredibly proud of you, just like I''d be proud of you if you wanted to open a restaurant. As long as you are proud of yourselves, it''s all that matters." "Dad..." "That said you will not be partaking in any sort of test before you are fully grown and have gone to school, as well as some home training. If you want to fight people for a living, you better be stronger than anyone else around." "Eh, that''s always been the plan, old man. Say, wanna fight?" "Don''t you want to finish this episode first?" "Oh, that? We all already saw it, we just picked up where you left off. Why, are you scared I''m gonna beat you to a pulp?" "David, I just came back from killing a demon." "For real? What was it, an imp?" "I know what you are trying to do, of course. It doesn''t work on me. That said, more training is always good and since you are all usually so reluctant, I will make use of this opportunity." "You serious?" "Yes. Come, let''s go to the gym. If any of you wishes to tag along-" "Nope." "Have fun dad!" "I can''t wait to see what happens once Captain Cyan meets Admiral Azure!" "-I''d like for you to team up and fight against me, to show me what you''ve learned." "Unfortunately father, unlike our more bestial brother, we prefer to use tools and weapons, and with our current growth, Goliath can''t make new ones until we are done. It''d be a waste to use resources for weapons today that will be useless tomorrow, no?" "Doesn''t that sound like a horrible excuse, old man?" "Yes, yes it does. Heroes must learn how to fight without their gadgets and powers, no? You should do the same." "But dad-" "That was an order. Everyone to the gym, now. Even you Trixie, I don''t want you to wander off where I can''t see you. Don''t worry, you don''t have to participate, you can keep the phone." "Yeah!" The ratlings grumbled as they followed James while Trixie merrily played a tile-matching game on the phone, almost dropping it when she tried to pass through a wall and it didn''t follow. The gym had been expanded since the last time James had sparred with his furry children, but it was still perfectly reasonable compared to the sort of things he had in mind for the near future. Sydakors had created an arena much larger than what James was used to and had an easy time attacking from afar, and he wouldn''t be surprised to learn that it could have easily evaded his attacks if it had truly cared to. Hell, even before that the primal goblin gang leader he encountered used its speed and the open terrain to attack James and deal with his tentacles. If he wanted to be ready for what could come next, he needed to see bigger. And so did the ratlings if they really wanted to devote their lives to fighting crime. "So, since you''re the ones who brought up that you can''t use your old equipment, you will have to learn how to fight with nothing on you. All of you will have to work together as a team against me, as for me I won''t be using magic, only shapeshifting and my natural shadow manipulation. Any questions?" "Since you have no organs to hurt, can we use lethal attacks?" "You just want to bite father." "Never said I didn''t." "You know what? Yes, fight like you''re trying to kill. Keep in mind your siblings are also there, so anything too destructive or wild puts them at risk. If any of you is hurt too badly we''ll stop right away, so if you really want to fight to your heart''s content..." "...Don''t scar the others to beat you, got it." "Good. Anything else?" "Nope." "Negative." "No." "I know everything I need, father." "It''s fine for me too!" "Great. Now, I''ll give you one minute to plan what you''re going to do." "No peeking?" "Or eavesdropping?" "Or spying on us with shadows?" "Nothing. I will be meditating in the corner. This is training for me too, after all." At that James turned into a shadow and slithered to a corner of the ceiling where he transformed into an odd blob, from which after a few seconds began to emerge thin black spores. "...Uh. Well, that was quick." "That''s dad for you." "So, what''s the plan everyone? David leaps to his face while the rest of us sneaks in from behind?" "Hey, I may be a battle junkie but I''m not stupid. He''ll just drop down or something. And did you forget he can see everywhere around him? He has no blindspot, Blanche." "Well, what''s your idea then, mister psychopath?" "The old man knows how to fight, but he hasn''t seen us in a while. We all have new tricks, and even without your fancy stuff you should be able to surprise him, no?" "So you want us to just fight like normal and then catch him off-guard with new techniques? That''s it?" "Suprise attacks don''t work, but surprise tactics should. I must admit that''s a good idea, David. Simple, but effective." "Of course it''s good, it''s mine." "Isn''t that what Captain Cyan did against the All-Seeing Dye?" "Shut up Foudre." "Uh, guys, I like the idea but..." "Yes, go on Goliath." "I just think we should be on the defensive?" "Oh come on, that''s always your plan!" "But David, think about it! Daddy always catches the people he fights off-guard because he plays along with whatever they''re doing. He''s at his best when he''s surprise attacking or countering an attack, but in an open fight, if he has to strike first..." "...Then he won''t have this advantage. If he attacks one of us the others are still ready to fight, and if he tries to catch us with his tentacles we can tear them apart. If we rush in blindly, we will be no better than that horde of cockroaches. Great idea, big brother." "You''re gonna make me blush..." "I don''t think we can blush, Goliath. You know, with the fur and all." "But we''d be adorable~" "Don''t our ears get pinker when we''re happy? Doesn''t that count as blushing?'' "Oh please! Are you done talking cutesy stuff? Can we focus back on how to beat the old man?" "Killjoy." "So, we fight defensively, stick together, and try to use our new techniques to catch him off-guard whenever an occasion presents itself. Is that all? Does anyone have any other suggestion?" "Without our weapons? Yeah, that''s all I have. What about you guys?" "If Papa hadn''t dropped this onto us so soon we could have had some time to prepare some nice choreographies, but now there''s nothing I can do." "I already said what I wanted to." "That''s all from me too. The old man is a tough nut to crack, there ain''t much we could do, even with our weapons." Lucille listened to David''s final remark before nodding. "Alright, everyone." She took a deep breath. "Let''s do this!" Chapter 76 : Family spar James faced the ratlings in the middle of the old sewer lair''s gym, ready for battle. In a corner of the room, Trixie the ghost girl alternated between watching the fight-to-be and playing a game on the phone James had lent her. The ratlings furrowed their furry brows as James stretched and spun to ready himself, changing some part of his body into gas, liquid, and shadow all the while. He rarely had the opportunity to prepare himself for a fight, so he was curious to see if small exercises helped. "So, are you ready then kids?" David immediately took on a smug look. "We''re going to demolish you, old man." "Oh? Come on then. Show me what you''ve got!" At that David immediately stepped forward and James readied himself for a leap... Before his small son jumped back in front of his siblings, who had quickly spread out into a circle, standing on their hind paws and shoulder to shoulder, leaving a spot open for their bloodthirsty brother who grinned once more as he joined the formation. "Behold and despair, old man, a defensive strategy!" Oh, I can''t sneak up on them like this, or use their attacks against them. Smart move, kids. But it won''t be enough. "Oh no, whatever shall I do." David raised what would probably be an eyebrow on a human at his father''s tone before James liquified and rushed at the ratlings'' formation, splitting into multiple streams still connected to his shadow on the ground that went beneath their paws and rose like enormous snakes in the middle of their little circle, James even forming a more solid cobra head at the end of each one to further the transformative trick. The snakes hissed at the ratlings who instinctively stepped back, except for Lucille and David, the mature sister climbing up the fake reptile''s body to step onto its head and avoid its jaw before attacking, struggling to fit on it despite its enormous size due to her own growth spurt, while the manic brother directly tore at his opponent''s throat, disregarding what it could do to him. "Don''t forget guys, it''s just the old man! It''s not like he''s gonna bite and eat you for real!" The snake David was fighting grew even further before opening its jaws wide, the lower mandibles separating as it engulfed him and began to swallow, more and more of the rodent''s body disappearing inside as it was dragged in by another pair of mandibles inside the false beast''s maw. "David!" "Never underestimate an opponent kids!" David groaned inside the black as Goliath and Foudre rushed in to help him before they were stopped in their tracks by their own false snakes opponents they had ignored thus far. Blanche in the meantime relied on her self-taught primitive martial art to redirect her opponent''s lunge into the ground with her pristine paws, the gaping jaws of the cobra head melting into the shadow on the floor before emerging back behind her back just in time for her to redirect it once more, straight into the head Lucille was fighting. As the two shadowy bodies collided they fused in pulses and contractions, turning into a bigger creature - one whose head Lucille could comfortably stand on, and thus let her go all out. Blanche trusted her sister to handle the new massive snake and looked at Foudre''s and Goliath''s fights to determine which one was the most in need of help, Foudre was slowly backing away from her opponent, evading its every attack but unable to counter them, while on the other side Goliath was handling their father''s shapeshifting incredibly well. He used his mass and size to grab onto its body and pull, slowly ripping the cobra''s head from the shadow on the floor their father had turned into. The choice was easy to make, and Blanche ran on all fours to join her sister just as David went on a wild rampage in his shadowy prison, multiple clawing attacks creating openings for him to see the outside through before they closed back. Lucille, currently testing the improved physiology of the giant snake she stood on as it struggled and shook wildly in the air to throw her off, simply sighed as she saw the mad bulge her younger brother had turned into. "David, it regenerates! Don''t make multiple small cuts, make a single large one! You don''t want to rip out something''s guts, you want to slash a throat!" David''s angry muffled response wasn''t worth listening to, but sadly she still paid attention to it. She knew dismissing information during a fight was reckless. "I know that you stupid-" Yes, not worth listening to. "Language, young man!" David screamed before biting into the black flesh imprisoning him and he spun on himself, tearing a large chunk of the shadowy material out and creating an opening just large enough for his relatively small body to slip through that he quickly utilized, still holding the chunk between his teeth until a small tentacle rose from the shadow on the ground and snatched it down. The small rodent groaned before eyeing up the large snake he had just escaped, the imitation looking back at him as its wound sealed and it flickered its forked tongue. David snarled and nearly leaped back on the snake''s throat before holding back. "Guys, I don''t think plan A is working." Blanche, currently redirecting the oncoming assaults of dozens of smaller snakes that one of the original five heads had split into once she had joined Foudre, rolled her eyes as her sister helped her by cutting off some of the heads. "We noticed, mister psychopath!" David was ready to insult her back but it was at this point that his gigantic opponent tried to swallow him up once more, David jumped to the right to avoid but the cobra''s head simply turned and kept on going, letting its lower part meld into the shadow on the floor, the serpentine form turning into a shark''s opened jaws, swimming in the shadow after David and ready to bite down on him before being hit by a large black mass - a recently ripped off snake head. David nodded at Goliath who gave him a thumbs-up in turn. "As I was saying, plan A failed. I think it''s time we go with plan B!" Lucille, from the top of the remaining giant snake, which was currently shapeshifting into a very angry mouthed worm, voiced her agreement. "David''s right. It''s time to go all out, everyone!" Oh? James'' curiosity was piqued, and it was even more so when all the ratlings nodded at their responsible sister. James didn''t know what to expect, and what followed truly surprised him. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. From the top of the worm, Lucille jumped high in the air and spread her limbs and tails, falling belly-first into the worm''s maw as they suddenly took on a metallic shine. As she fell into the dark abyss below, her paws, tail, and incisors, still coated in a strange metallic shine, easily cut through the black flesh of the worm, turning into ribbons that fell not unlike an empty banana peel. Oh, nice trick. Not enough against me but- wait what? Whatever Lucille had done had an impact on his regeneration and shapeshifting. It didn''t prevent it completely, but it did slow it enough for her attack to successfully turn the fake worm into a pile of long strips that wouldn''t be worth reforming. As soon as he could - which meant barely a second after his daughter''s paws touched the ground - James reclaimed the black ribbons into his shadowy main body on the ground and tried to quickly figure out the best way to deal with her, as well as her siblings - they hadn''t been idle while Lucille was doing her thing, after all. Foudre, akin to her name, had begun to emit small blue sparks from her claws that stung him and, like Lucille''s metal coating although to a blessed degree, slowed James'' control over his body, allowing her to reduce the number of snakes she and Blanche had to deal with, the white rat still mostly utilizing the same redirecting trick but no longer making contact with the imitations, instead relying on an invisible force that allowed her to easily deal with multiple heads at the same time and even occasionally send out invisible blasts that completely exploded them, though this time James had no trouble reforming them right after. Goliath didn''t do anything special and stuck to using his size to wrestle with the shadow shark, but David on the other had a brand new trick to display as well. As Goliath ripped off the top of the shark from the shadow on the ground, James hurried to form the lower half jumping in the air behind Goliath to catch him off-guard but right as the two halves of the shark were going to combine blades of air rained down on the fake fish and tore it apart, the force of the wind separating the black flesh even further and preventing James from just gluing the parts back together. What little he managed to assemble to form an angry piranha immediately was punched through by Goliath''s suddenly red-glowing paw, and it was hot. James instinctively dissolved his construct back to escape the burn. Seeing his little animal party had failed, James retracted all of his spread mass back into the shadow he had become before slithering away from the ratlings to put some distance and reforming in his usual Silhouette form. "Wow. That was amazing, kids." "Thank you, father." "Thanks, daddy!" "See, old man? We can take you on no problem." "Don''t get cocky, David. Dad hasn''t used magic, otherwise, it''d already be over." "Oh shut it. Besides, it''s already over. The old man can''t win with our elemental attacks taking out his stuff." "Psycho, you forgot the part where we can''t win either since papa always regenerates. It''s what we civilized folks call a stalemate." "Shut it, whitey." "You little-" "Blanche, language. And David, be nicer to your sisters. But seriously kids, where did all that elemental stuff come from?" "Dunno dad, it just happened one day during training while you weren''t there. I was just practicing chops when suddenly boom, electricity. Since then we have all tried to use those better in fights, and even in general." "Yes, papa! I don''t need to dirty my paws by holding the food now!" "And we surely could do more if my beloved siblings weren''t so complacent when it came to their training, father." "Traitor! You''re just as eager to stop to watch Captain Cyan as we are!" "In any case, is this sparring session over? I do believe we proved our effectiveness. We have grown, both literally and metaphorically." "Yeah, you sure did become better kids. But this isn''t over." David Threw his paws in the air. "Oh come on, old man!" "You improved greatly, and by working together you can handle foes stronger than you. But that isn''t enough. There are far more powerful entities in this world, ones that you will most definitely face if you stay true to your dream of becoming Heroes." "Dad, it''s not like we''ll be facing off against Titans as Captain Cyan did. We''ll start with regular crooks before moving onto the serious stuff." "I know. But how can you be sure that danger won''t come to you? Or that it is hidden in plain sight? I told you earlier, I ended up facing off against a demon down there - and we''re supposed to be in one of the safer areas of the slums and the Sunken City." "You won''t scare us with a spooky story like that, old man. I''m sure you kicked its-" "It nearly killed me." David froze at that, and his and the rest of the ratlings'' eyes widened. Small spasms and the beginning of tears appeared on them all. "WHAT!" "Da... Daddy?" "Father? Are you..." "My magic and powers were nearly useless against it, and yours would have probably been as well. It tore through me as we do with cockroaches, and if it hadn''t been for its overconfidence I might not be here today. And that thing was simply around, with no obvious sign. I only knew to be ready for it because we did our research, and even then the weapon we prepared that would have erased any of our previous opponents didn''t even inconvenience it. As Heroes, how can you be sure you will never be in a similar situation? Pursuing a small-time criminal that ends up awakening a monster beyond what you should be able to handle? You need to be ready for this sort of scenario." "I..." "Hence why I will now try my best to simulate it." "Eh?" "I do not have its resistance to magic, hence why I will ask you to refrain from using your elemental attacks. Tricks are fine." "Papa?" James'' body began to shift, becoming taller, thinner, more humanoid, a skeletal creature with wings of thin veins sprouting from its back and powerful tentacles replacing what should have been a head. A mere copy of Sydakors'' form. "Behold, kids. An echo of a demon." The veiny wings emerging from James'' back immediately untied and became a flurry of powerful whips aiming at the ratlings and their surroundings, giving them no time to breathe. Lucille barely managed to block a strike with her metal-coated tail before she had to jump back and run to avoid the following ones, Foudre and Blanche tried to avoid a few veins and make use of the openings to strike back but they were instantly caught off-guard by even more whips coming in from all directions and sent flying into the wall, their furry bodies falling on the ground afterward, Goliath tried to tank as many hits as possible and approach James'' humanoid form but it took only a few seconds before he barely managed to stand under the constant assault, and David tried to leap onto James'' torso by boosting his jump with his air powers and even used his ability to successfully avoid getting battered away by the mad veins, but was promptly snatched up by the tentacles of the head which constricted him and held him above the dark abyss of the fake demon''s jaw, the small rat shaking madly and fighting to escape the constrictive grasp but only tiring himself. Lucille tried to run back in to help her younger brother, but as soon as she turned around to cease her initial retreat one of the veins hit her side and threw her into the air, leaving her defenseless against the following strikes. In less than half a minute, all of the ratlings had been defeated. James seized the mad flurry of the veins and returned to his regular humanoid form, releasing his hold on David and letting him drop back on the floor. As soon as his paws landed on the black tiles of the gym, the hothead of the siblings froze in silence, the only sound leaving his body being his rapid heartbeat and breathing. From James'' shadow on the ground rose tentacles that picked up the rest of the group and brought them close, more tendrils branching off to pet them and check their injuries. "This is the sort of thing you could have to face. Oh, I''m sure you would have done much better with your new powers, but as I said, these won''t always work. If you want to be Heroes as great as Captain Cyan, you need to be better." None of them were in a state where they could answer coherently. The closest would be Goliath''s mumbling, though James attributed that more to being moved than reacting to his voice. "Right, I''ll talk about that when you''re rested up. Well, I guess it''s time for a nap. David, are you- oh." In the time it had taken for James to father the others and talk mostly for himself, David had apparently gotten over his adrenaline rush and already collapsed into an unconscious mess. "Well, that settles it. Family nap time. I''m sorry for the inconvenience Trixie, I''m sure they''ll be ready to play when they wake up. In the meantime, you can hold onto their phone." The little ghost girl nodded, and as James turned around to leave the gym and go to the ratlings'' room, hugging them close with a little help from some light shapeshifting, he didn''t miss the way she tried to punch into the air and made some karate chops. I hope Greenheld doesn''t get mad at me about this... Chapter 77 : Abrak Somewhere in the slums of Zalcien, somewhere between the infamous center where the Horror lied and the border with the rest of the city proper, was a five-story tall building in relatively good condition, on the roof of which one would find an unusual office. Sat in a red leather chair, a tall old elf with long grey hair and a medium trimmed grey beard read some papers covered in strange symbols, and even to those who could read them their placing made no sense. Which was the exact reason why it was the perfect coded message in Runar''s opinion, especially when trying to counterfeit the code resulted in fiery detonations. Speaking of detonations, the old elf heard the heavy steps of metal-clad feet running up the stairs and began to put his work aside. As expected, soon after the hulking figure of a knight in shining armor burst through the door to the open office, and Runar''s keen eyes immediately recognized the glowing red orb the size of a human head the large orc was carrying single-handedly. "Mister Runar, it''s-" "I know who it is. Thank you for coming here so fast, Karadok." Runar gestured for his minion to put the orb down on his deck while he finished putting away his paperwork. As soon the crystalline surface of the orb hit the wood of the desk, runes that had been hidden so far on both items lit up and secured the spherical object down as well as answered the call. Runar finished adjusting his blue tie on his yellow three-piece suit''s collar just in time for the red glow of the orb to disappear and be replaced by a vision of another place, though much of that vision was occupied by the grinning face of an odd old man. A top hat mimicking a dark grey mushroom cloud sat on top of a blade head with a very wrinkly and angular face, dark eyes full of enthusiastic sparkles and mischief were framed by long thin white eyebrows on top and a classic thin white mustache below that any classic mustache-twirling villain would have looked upon with envy, with a small white goatee completing the look. Though not much of his suit could be seen in the crystal ball, Runar knew without a doubt that it would undeniably be one normally only an illusionist would wear - and not even the respectable kind of illusionist, the masters of illusions and trickery the magical community valued, but instead those foolish pretenders that entertained children. Even now Runar could see a bit of a black and white wand poke into the vision from time to time, the man he was looking at probably idly playing with it as he tended to do. "Hello, Abrak. It has been some time." "Runar, buddy! How are you doing?" "I am faring well. Oh, Karadok, you are dismissed." "Oh! Karadok, lad, how are you old champ?" "Uh... Sir?" "Abrak, the original Karadok died quite a few decades ago. This is merely his... Grandson, was it?" "Grandnephew actually, sir." "Yes, that. Again, you''re free to go." "Yes sir! And it was an honor meeting you mister Abrakaboom!" "Yes, yes. Now go." The orc in shining armor bowed before running back down the stairs, his armor clanking all the while. "Ah, good old Karadok. Say, what have you been up to old lad?" "The same as usual, Abrak. Managing the illegal production and distribution of enchanted goods is a little more complex than running around and causing damage. I heard you paid a visit to the Museum of Explosives?" "Ah, yes! You should have seen it, Runar. It was glorious! No one will ever forget about it!" "I must admit I do not share your optimism. It is already the fifth time this year, people are getting used to it." "Uh, really? Gosh, I got a little distracted. But seriously, you have nothing new going on? You sure?" "Well, there are some rumors about a strange and unique creature circulating." "Oooh, tell me more!" "An entity that dwells in shadows and specializes in stealth. Intelligent too, if the rumors are true. So far I believe it is simply a particularly clever shadow or darkness elemental that found its way here by accident, though it might also be just another Cored. Probably a Chaotic one then. In any case, I already sent a man to retrieve it, though it has been some time since we last got any news." "And what if it is something neeew?" "Abrak, you know me. Although I do not have much in the way of actual evidence so far to either prove or disprove my theory, what are the chances that a rare and potentially unknown magical creature would show up in a city like Zalcien? Especially in the slums, and so close to the Black Border too. A rogue elemental would already be impressive enough. No, the chances for it to be anything truly unique are quasi null." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "Ugh, it''s boring then." "For one such as you, I''m afraid so." "Grah, everything is boring nowadays. The Blood Angels are nothing without Natrashka, that Biflora guy sucks out all the fun of breaking the law and Emy barely does anything herself. I swear, she could have died and no one would have realized it with all her robots doing the work." "Come on now, surely you''re exaggerating." "Nah, I''m not! You know what? I may not like what that Marcus kid is doing with Natrashka''s old gang, but at least the lad is doing something! And don''t get me started on this Wicked Witchcraft nonsense, just a bunch of bootlickers and backstabbing snakes. Berk." "You are still the cabal''s leader, you know? You could just order the current leaders to step back and let some new ones replace them." "You mean cleaning the old ones'' mess just to let some new youngins step in and make their own? Nah! Cabals are stupid anyway. Who''s the idiot who thought tons of different magic practitioners could tolerate and work with each other?" "Historically, most mages, including our respective teachers." "Bah! Old dotards, too out of touch with the times!" "You are aware that we now qualify as ''old dotards'' too, right?" "Nah! We''ll always be young, Runar! Just look at yourself, you don''t look like a century-old prune like they do!" "I have to thank my elven ancestry for that, but time is still catching up old friend. You should really put some order to the cabal before it''s too late for your opinion to matter." "Bah! As soon as they leave me alone, I''ll be the happiest man alive! Say, what did you want to talk about?" "You''re the one who called me, Abrak." "Did I? Oh well, I just had a great idea for my next show! I must be off, see you soon!" "Yes, see you-" Abrakaboom didn''t wait for him to finish and shut off the magical connection on his side, leaving only an empty crystal ball behind. "-soon. Sigh." Runar dropped his elbows on his desk and began to rub at his forehead with his right hand, his gaze fixed on the magical contraption. It was true that his elven ancestry - though he was only a half-blood - had spared him from the ravages of time, but his old friend... Abrakaboom was only human, despite what some might think. No fae or demonic origins influenced his mind or boosted his powers, no, his abilities were only the result of hard work and dedication, and though they would never falter, his mind on the other hand... "You''re going to blow up the Museum of Explosives again, aren''t you?" He had never cared much for the cabal that had formed in his wake, hoping to benefit from his tremendous magical prowess. Occasionally he would mentor an interesting newcomer or pillage the stores of rare ingredients the old idiots at the top tried to hide, but that was it. With his worsening condition, however... They had gotten away with more and more. Runar wouldn''t be surprised to learn that there already was a plot to permanently get rid of Abrakaboom in the works. It would match with his recent... Relocation. What need was there to appoint him as the director of this outpost when all of his work was located in the main headquarters? He hadn''t been the least surprised when the first reports of his spies that were still loyal informed him that the decrepit snakes in charge were already fighting over ownership of the enchantment workshops he had watched over for years. The fools would get what they deserved as soon as they tried to undo his claim on them. He didn''t like dealing with fae or demons, but even the local ones had grown tired of Wicked Witchcraft''s leaders'' antics. For once Runar allowed something other than neutrality, apathy, and mild annoyance to show on his face with a small smile and even smaller chuckle. Oh, if his plans to take over the cabal failed, the idiots in charge would disappear along with him. Whether they would be replaced with new ones like Abraka feared or if a new generation truly dedicated to investigating the forbidden arts would take over he didn''t know, but even a man like him could hope. Runar took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, returning to his impassible state before ringing a small golden bell he took out one of the many drawers on his desk, the small metallic object making a light melody that did not match its movement, and soon after the hulking armored figure of Karadok returned to the open office. "Karadok, you may take back the crystal ball." "Yes, sir!" "While you''re here, tell me, did we finally get news from Grover?" "No, mister Runar, nothing so far." "How disappointing. What of his mandatory rune of life?" "The rune in the shelf is still active, sir." "Any change? Any shift of color or design?" "No sir, nothing of the sort." "Then not only is he alive, but his mind hasn''t been altered - so, no mental enslavement or charming. He wasn''t worth the resources to make a permanent tracking rune, but surely he borrowed something of value for his mission? Something that would be kept under close watch?" "No sir. He only took funds to buy equipment, some rune-upgraded grenades, and his usual enchanted clay armor." "Which was made by?" "One of our workers, though it was a side-project. A personal gift, if I recall." "Which worker, specifically?" "Sorry sir, but I don''t keep track of them. I''m your attendant and bodyguard, not HR." "Right, right. I shouldn''t expect you to know every venture of our business. Nevertheless, have a new team assembled, one comprised entirely of loyal goons." "Sir?" "Grover either betrayed us or was taken alive, in which case considering the amount of time that has gone by I assume he shared everything he knew. So, send someone to fetch information from Guy about any new developments from this silhouette situation and a scouting group to check over the last recorded location of Grover." "Uh, sir, that''s gonna be a bit complicated." "And why is that?" "No one has seen Guy for at least a week now. His informants are still running about, but..." "Without Guy to centralize information and double-check everything, they aren''t as reliable as usual. Still, take note of what they know. But, how intriguing, Guy disappears shortly after Grover does. Are you noticing a pattern, Karadok?" "Uh... Whoever caught Grover kidnapped Guy to cover their tracks?" "Exactly. Good job, Karadok. And what can we assume from this?" "They don''t care about making tons of people angry?" "Yes, and it is notable, but most importantly they were intelligent enough to keep Grover alive, interrogate him, and go after Guy. This isn''t simply a lost wild shadow elemental. Whatever it is, it can plan and understand the purpose of keeping prisoners alive, which means either my second theory about a Chaotic Cored is correct, or..." "Or?" "I hate to entertain the idea Abrak might be correct, but it isn''t out of the question that we''re dealing with something a little... Rarer. Maybe a young fae or weak demon? In any case, our attempt should be better prepared, and better manned. And, if that were to fail too, there is always someone I could contact to help with potentially demonic matters. I wonder how that old opportunist is doing..."
In his tower in the Sunken City, as he stirred a strange green bubbling concoction in his cauldron, Mesker sneezed. Chapter 78 : Dane After some time to rest and a few episodes of Captain Cyan to cool down, the whole family was back to the training room, this time to try and get the most out of the ratlings'' new tricks. For the occasion, James had created a living parkour course with a field of tentacles that the children were currently running through under the curious gaze of Trixie the ghost girl. "David, you''re a feral beast with air powers, take advantage of it. Just going fast at things isn''t enough, you need to do it smartly. Plant your claws or teeth into your opponent and then jump away with air to rip out as much as possible, maybe even send out a couple of wind blades while you''re flying off to do even more damage." David groaned as he slipped underneath a swinging tentacle. "I know how to make things bleed, old man!" "Yes, but not every enemy bleeds. This is why, as good as you are with your body, you also need to master elemental attacks. Wind blades are cutting it so far but try to go even farther, make tornadoes or bullets. I''ll get you all a book on elemental stuff when I can. Foudre, electricity is a very dangerous and powerful tool, so try to fool your opponent - throw an obvious electric attack that''ll distract them while you rush in for the kill with a subtler one. Also, make use of your environment, water and most metal are great conductors, so keep that in mind - both to catch enemies off-guard and to avoid electrocuting yourself or your siblings." "I got it, dad!" "Great. Environmental stuff works for you too, David! Messing with ambient gasses is a very good trick!" "You''ve already done my turn, old man!" "Yeah, yeah. Blanche, I''m unsure if what you''re doing is gravity, telekinesis, or just pure force, but try and get more use out of it. You can repulse and attract-" "And float sometimes!" The cheerful albino diva illustrated her words by floating above a gap between two shadowy pillars she was supposed to jump over, her little demonstration running her momentum and obviously being less effective than a simple sprint and leap. "-and float sometimes, but you should try to get more out of it. Try to freeze things mid-air, delete or create momentum and maybe try to invert gravity or increase it. An opponent suddenly dealing with a lighter or heavier weapon will mess up their blows and maybe even hit themselves or their allies. You could even make them float and hold them in the air, most people wouldn''t have a way to escape from that kind of hold." "I can''t wait to juggle with the baddies, papa!" "Lucille, I''m not an expert but I''m sure you can take your metal powers even further. You could turn your fur into needles to throw or maybe into some sort of temporary armor to block hits without being weighted down by keeping it on all the time. You should also experiment with sharpness, I''m sure you''d catch people off-guard if you jumped in teeth first but then used your ears to cut them. Try to see if you can''t shapeshift a bit too, being able to lengthen your limbs and tail could catch an enemy mid-dodge." The grey rat nodded while stepping to the side to avoid a thrusting attack. "Yes, father." "Goliath, I''m still not sure what your full power set is either. It could be just heat or maybe fire or maybe something even beyond that like solar power, so you should experiment to try and go even further with what you can make, and maybe actually try to cool it down. Who knows, it could be a temperature control kind of thing. Your specialty is defense and using your body to hold down your opponent, so try to spread that heat to all of you rather than just your paw. If you''re too hot for weapons to hit you before melting, that''ll be a serious advantage. Still, try to figure out at least one ranged attack, like your siblings." "Okay, daddy!" The oldest ratling''s merry smile as he burst through a wall of shadowy flesh specifically for this purpose was intoxicating. Metaphorically, of course. None of the ratlings had any acidic or toxic power. Yet. Can''t cross that out yet. Venomous, infected, or even poisonous rats are a classic trope, and since Captain Cyan is a legit and accurate representation of events that occurred... Yeah, tropes are a thing. Though it''s unclear how much people are aware of them. Sam is aware my shadow theme is clich¨¦, but his own Tech naming convention seems perfectly natural to him... Is it a lack of self-awareness, plain hypocrisy, or just that the shadow theme is seen as a fashion style would be? "Great. We''re going to continue this little training session for half an hour and then I''ll leave you to rest while I drop by the Black Block." "Leaving already?" "Don''t worry, I won''t be gone for too long. I just need to check up on the shop, make sure the doc didn''t get any ideas, maybe even try to recruit her while I''m at it or at least schedule some more tests for you, get you a book on elemental powers that do not necessarily require magic and then check out what''s available nowadays. Who knows, maybe I''ll find something useful at one of the stalls." Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "You don''t need to rant about your day, old man." "David, I just want to make sure you know what I''m doing so that if anything happens you may have some clues as to what." "Uh. Didn''t think about. That''s a great idea dad!" "But nothing would ever happen to our dear papa, after all." "Uh, remember that whole demon debacle the old man told us about?" "Nothing would happen to him on the surface. The ruffians up there have nothing on him." "Remember that time we raided a gang''s warehouse and we ran off because a guy saw us?" "That was a stealth mission, David. One which you ruined with your curiosity regarding this Red Dust substance." "Oh come on, it was one time! And no need to act high and mighty with me, miss ever-perfect! The old man hammered it into my skull, no touching drugs." "Guys, could you please stop fighting? Daddy didn''t even leave yet!" "Goliath is right, kids." Blanche and David were immediately sent flying into the air by surprise tentacles, Lucille barely avoiding the same fate with her quick reflexes prompting her to dodge just in time. "No arguing in the middle of the action. It leaves an opening any intelligent foe will take advantage of." "We haven''t seen a lot of those around here, dad. Maybe it''d be good for us to spar with the Commando? we already know each other''s moves and the Mischief guys are pretty predictable. Polisson is the only interesting one and he''s always busy managing the others." "The Commando is currently busy in the Sunken City, so no. But I promise, as soon as we settle down in the nice part of the city, I''ll find you a trainer in a dojo or something. I''m sure there must be people specialized in preparing folks for Hero trials." "Just not a turtle, please. Those guys are slooow." "You''re thinking of tortoises, Foudre. And no, they''re not slow. Those reptiles are deceptively fast when they''re determined." "Yeah, sure, next you''ll tell me they''re ninjas." "There''s a pretty famous story about that where I come from..."
Dane was grumpy. They hadn''t seen Guy since he had let Igne kick them into a wall after stealing their intel, and they hadn''t had a lot of luck selling information on their own. The people of the slums weren''t very trusting of street urchins like them, especially since they preferred to keep as much of their body concealed as possible with their black hooded coat far too big for them and their dark green scarf. Dane didn''t like people looking at their blue skin. They didn''t like it one bit. Their stomach grumbled and Dane groaned. What little coin they had managed to scrape by since then wasn''t exactly enough for a full meal every day. Usually, that meant the rest of Guy''s sources pooled a little together to help out, they were all in the same boat after all, and Guy had told them all about trust and appreciation between allies, but... Dane wasn''t exactly popular. Igne wasn''t either, but at least she compensated by being really good and getting paid tons. Dane slid a gloved hand over their poor empty belly and tried to massage it to calm it down. They couldn''t afford to get distracted now, they needed to be on the lookout for anything useful to tell and... There! Coming out of an alleyway into the Black Block, sneakily merging into the crowd of the market that went from stall to stall and shop to shop, was a tall black figure void of any traits. Dane had already seen them once before, not long before they went to talk to Guy... "Silhouette..." Before he disappeared, Guy had told everyone not to say anything about Silhouette to anyone, except that they were honorable and trustworthy, and to focus on getting info on Runar. Some of the other kids were sure Silhouette was responsible for Guy''s disappearance, but Dane didn''t believe it one bit. As much as he annoyed them they knew Guy wasn''t just an old man. He made a living out of telling gang members about each other and yet had managed to live for so long, so he obviously knew better than to anger some weird newcomer. No, Dane was sure Guy was just taking a surprise vacation or something. It wouldn''t be the first time according to some of the other kids, those old enough to start having kids of their own. What a dumb idea, growing up and having kids. Dane would be ten forever! Wait, no, focus. Guy may have said not to say anything about Silhouette to anyone, but he wasn''t around right now. Dane had seen the kind of pay Runar''s goons had offered Igne when they found out she knew so stuff, but as usual, she was far too loyal to Guy to see a great opportunity to make money. If Dane could offer some new intel, however... They''d be the one getting the jackpot. Following Silhouette wasn''t that hard. Despite their best attempts at stealth by mixing in with the crowd, they were still a tall dark unusual thing. To Dane''s trained senses, they were incredibly easy to track, and shadowing them was a piece of cake. Dane knew what cake was, they even got to taste a small one they had stolen from some guy who had just exited Sweet Pete''s! They got a good beating and couldn''t parkour for a week, but it tasted great! Dane followed Silhouette to their shop, the one they had set up near Maviza''s magical junk place. They hadn''t dared to enter it yet, kids like them were never welcome in nice places like that, but they easily recognized the strange facade of the building. Gone were the exposed bricks behind the crumbling paint of the old walls, now they were a pristine white that almost shined in the bleakness of the slums, with a big black stripe at the bottom and black shingles on the roof as well as windows of black glass, stuff that Dane knew could only be seen through from one side, Guy had told them about it once. It was a strange sight in the slums, but had it been just that it wouldn''t have been that weird. No, the really weird part came from the black tentacles painted on the black surface, emerging from the black stripe like a Kraken''s limbs from the ocean like in that one drawing Dane had seen a long time ago. They were happy there were no Krakens nearby. Silhouette stopped in front of the shop for a few seconds before entering, and from the outside, Dane could hear a little bell chime as they opened the door. They couldn''t just go inside, it would obvious they were following Silhouette and even if it weren''t kids like them were always kicked out, but they couldn''t peek through the weird windows either. Calling this information hunt off might be for the best, but then what? All that Dane had learned so far was that Silhouette came to their own shop. There was nothing interesting about that, at least nothing that would make Runar''s goons pay up. Unbeknownst to them, some of Runar''s men had noticed the informant sneaking around, and they were more than happy to know exactly where Silhouette was... Chapter 79 : Gaston Gaston was a simple man. He liked breaking stuff, especially bones, and he was more than fine following orders. It was why he was happy as could be in the life of the simple goon. People gave him money for him to buy some fun stuff, and he had even more fun breaking what they told him to. He already lived in Nirvana, really. He didn''t even mind living in the slums, things were just easier to break here after all. Occasionally he had to change employers after they upset the wrong people and were splattered on the walls or turned into mush, but ever since he had begun working for Runar these sorts of concerns were out of the window. Runar was a good boss, he was ruthless as could be and would probably melt Gaston''s bones if he ever insulted him but overall he was a reasonable boss that told him to break a lot of stuff, and boy did Gaston love breaking stuff. He had even done such a great job breaking stuff for Runar that he had received an enchanted mace, free of charge. The glorified beat-stick was a light wooden pole covered with black runes made of various straight lines and topped off by a metallic head, a roughly spherical thing that was actually a bunch of pentagons put together, each one hosting a single rune - a dodecahedron, some would recognize, but for Gaston, it was just the bashing part of the beat-stick. Oh, how he loved that mace! He had had it for around a year and now, and the thing didn''t have a single scratch! It broke things so easily, wood, stone, scrap metal, bones, heads... Oh, so much brain splatter. Gaston surely loved his job. For all his simplicity, Gaston wasn''t as stupid as one might assume. Oh, he had no shame admitting he was far from being the sharpest tool in the shed, but you didn''t need a sharp hammer now, did you? In any case, as he and some of his friends were hanging out on the Black Block to buy some fun stuff and keep an eye out for their boss'' latest interest - some kind of shadow thing Gaston didn''t care all that much for since it didn''t have bones, but he knew better than to ignore orders - he had noticed one of Guy''s little informants running about, recognizing the oversized hooded coat of the only one still willing to talk to Runar''s people lately, obviously following someone or something, though he couldn''t tell who or what. He didn''t care much for the street urchin, if they wanted to grow big and strong they needed to do it on their own, but even he could understand that he and his friends could potentially find out some interesting stuff if they followed the little one. And if they realized they were being tailed themselves, well... Gaston knew how to make people talk. Kneecaps were so fragile. After some elbow bumping to catch his friends'' attention and some excessive head gestures, they finally caught on to what Gaston was saying and followed his lead. Navigating the crowded market of the Black Block wasn''t hard for folks like them, whereas the small kid running ahead had to slide and crouch to go through the crowd, Gaston and his buddies were the sorts of guys people would rather stay clear off. The distance they put between themselves and the group of thugs was all they needed to keep going and shadow the kid, and luckily for them, the little runner had yet to realize they were there. The fact Gaston had noticed them in the first place already was a sign they weren''t that great at stealth, but right now all he could think about was how bad the child was at their job. They would never get a shiny gift from their boss as Gaston did. Then they had reached a store on the border of the Black Block, the limit between a great many stalls and the rest of the slums, and even Gaston could recognize what was happening. The shadow guy they were supposed to be on the lookout for had entered a shop, and as far as Gaston knew there was only one door - though the last time Gaston had seen the building it was still covered with old dirty beige paint flaking off to reveal the red bricks beneath, so that might have changed. Gaston had heard of the shop a few times before from other guys at the bar he liked going to. Black tentacles on white paint marked the place where you''d find tons of cheap easy-to-use stuff to protect yourself, or harm others. Gaston hadn''t been all that interested, he already had the best mace a guy like him could ask for, and that was more than enough. But now that he thought about it, hadn''t the kid mentioned something about the shop too? Not its contents, but the owner... It was some kind of fancy or silly name, it began with an "S"... Sullivan? Soleil? Sacrement? Silhouette! The name was Silhouette! And that was also the name of the shadow thing Runar was looking for, too! Oh, they nearly had it in their grasp! But, as much as he wanted to have fun with a good brawl, Gaston knew better than to barge in on an enemy within their base with little to no intel. "Boys, looks like we found what the boss'' been looking for! But first off, Daniel, you go back to base and tell them about this. The boss wouldn''t like us going ahead without warning them first. Gronko, you try to find another exit around the back, wouldn''t want our guy to leave the party, eh? And come back here, even if you find something. Gotta be sure we''re all thinking the same thing before we start clobbering. Gonch, you find us a quiet place not too far where we can do stuff but still watch over here. Carn, you and I are going to get our little runner, we have a few questions to ask them, and be ready to make them squeal. Everyone meets back here before we begin, except Daniel." The grinning faces of his friends nodded with a mad glint in their eyes before they all set off to do their own thing, which for Carn and Gaston meant having a nice little "chat" with their small friend. Dane didn''t even realize what was coming to them before they felt two weights settle down on their shoulders, the hands of two tall and burly men gripping them not to the point of causing pain but more than enough to ensure Dane couldn''t run away. "Hey there, little buddy." "You''re one of Guy''s kids, aren''t ya?" "Uh... Yeah? I mean, yeah! I''m the best informant ever! Wanna know something?" "Oh, you''re a smart one little buddy!" Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. "We''ve got a lot to ask you, but not out here. Wouldn''t wanna let pesky ears listen in, ya know? People listening for free to what you''d tell us, stealing your business." "Oh, yeah, that''s no good. I don''t want to tell stuff for free!" "Good on ya little buddy! Say, we''ve got a friend who''s got a knack for finding quiet spots, we were supposed to meet him for a drink, let''s ask him for a nice place when he arrives." "You''re going to love him, bud, he''s great with kids!" "If you say so... But I better get paid for this! Infos like the ones I have are worth more than a handful of coins!" "Of course little buddy! We know how to pay for the good stuff." "It''s even part of our job! Gotta make sure people pay." "Eh, you got that right. You Runar guys are good." "Oh, thank you, little buddy!" "Only the best guys to deal with the best informant, right?" Beneath their hood and scarf, Dane grinned, completely oblivious to the two men''s intentions. Soon enough another man joined up with them, smiling all the while. "Gonch! Carn and I found a kid who knows tons of great stuff, you got a place for that?" "No problem, Gaston. There''s this nice abandoned shop just a few steps away, the second floor has a great view of this funky place. I figured it''d make for a great visual, ya know? A nice, quiet, and pretty place to talk in." "Great, Gonch! Heard that little buddy? You''ll be able to tell us all you know! For a price, of course." "Uh, lead the way! And try to make it fast, I don''t have all day" Gaston grinned. It wasn''t long before they were hidden away on the second floor Gonch had scouted and the man left them to be ready to direct Gronko to the team''s temporary hiding spot once he was done checking for more exits. Carn and Gaston lost no time in getting ready to interrogate Dane, used to this sort of thing from their line of work. "So, little buddy, what can you tell us about Silhouette and that weird shop?" "Money first!" "Oh, of course, little buddy. I don''t have any wad of cash on me, sadly. And you, Carn?" "Let me think... Oh! I think I have some GOLD!" As he yelled Carn punched Dane in the waist with a golden knuckle he had hidden in a pocket so far, the young informant coughing up blood and gasping for air as they almost fell to their knees before Carn and Gaston held them back up - though in truth if any of the two men were to let go the street urchin would simply drop down. "Oops, forgot it was just lead." "Don''t worry Carn, I''m sure our little buddy doesn''t mind. They probably didn''t even feel the difference! Ain''t that right, little buddy?" "Ah... Ah... Why..." "Oh, but to pay you for your information of course! Wouldn''t want to get it for free after all, yeah? So, wanna talk now?" "Money... Or nothing..." "Oh, alright then! But what can I give you when I don''t have cash on me... Oh, I know! Ya see mister Runar likes rewarding good workers like me, so he has given me this very nice mace, I''m sure it would pretty expensive to buy it myself. I''m going to lend it to you for a sec, alright?" Before Dane could answer Gaston had taken his mace from the spot where it usually dangled from his belt and had it ready to strike, a simple smile on his face as he looked the blue child in the eye despite the darkness of their hood. "Ready?" "Don''t- Aaaaaaa-" Dane could focus on nothing but the pain that spread through their knee as the metallic dodecahedron covered in runes hit their leg, multiple of said runes glowing in a pale grey light as they could feel their bone shatter and tear apart their muscles and flesh. They couldn''t even keep their scream of pain going, the agony being too overwhelming to express with noise. "Ya like it? I just love it! It breaks stuff so easily. Obstacles, watermelons, bones... People..." "You saw that, bud? Gaston was even nice enough to show you how it works! That deserves some talking, no?" "Yo- Ack argh... You... Guy..." "Oh, are you afraid Guy will be on our case since you talked little buddy? Don''t worry, he won''t do a thing. He''s just an old man, and no one has seen him in a while anyway. Besides, it''s not like he cares about you, right?" "Gaston''s right, you know. Normally you kids work in a small group, but you''re all one..." "No pal, no help." "We noticed you''re the only one who still talks to us Runar folks. No need to be a genius to notice we''ve been blacklisted, ya know?" "And you''re the only one still nice enough to care about us, little buddy. That''s very nice! It''s why it''s very mean of you not to talk all of a sudden. What''s wrong little buddy, wanna take another look at my mace? Oh, maybe you''d like to see how it works on an arm this time? Or a foot? Or a hand? Maybe ribs? Oh, or maybe... Maybe a skull. Oh, it always makes me smile, to see all of the goo flying around. Wanna see it too?" "Ah... Ah... Ah... It''s Silhouette''s shop..." "See little buddy? Now we''re getting somewhere!" "But we already guessed that ya see? Don''t you have anything more... Juicy, to say? Otherwise, I guess we could make some juice ourselves, but I''m sure not you''d be able to enjoy it anymore." "We... We don''t know much about him... We only know what Soluble said before he disappeared, nothing more." "Oh? Nothing? Not even on what''s inside the shop? How disappointing. Not even worth our time, really." "And we don''t like wasting time, little buddy. It''s an adult thing, I''m sure you''ll understand one day. Or maybe not." "Wait... I... I know Larry and Barry are in here... Also Soluble''s guys..." "Larry and Barry?" "Barry and Larry?" "Weren''t those the guys that sold you a faulty toaster?" "I think? Bah, who cares, they were just two random guys. But Soluble''s pals? What did Karadok say again?" "A lizardman and a ratkin, I think?" "Oh, I could use some new boots." "Really? People boots?" "Bah, it ain''t like they''re human anyway. They''re just fancy animals." "But really little buddy? That''s all you have for us?" "They... They sell-" "Self-defense stuff, we know. Though I doubt they have anything like my mace. Well we didn''t learn anything useful now, did we, Carn?" "Nope, not a thing we didn''t already know or wouldn''t have figured out ourselves, Gaston." "A shame for you, little buddy. Oh well, win some lose some. At least we get to have some fun now, don''t we?" "Wait... I... I told you everything..." "Yeah, you did, and your everything was bad. Bad and naughty kids get a spanking, you know? Most people would use something flat, but eh... The sides of my mace are flat enough. What do you think, Carn?" "Yeah, they are. Oh, maybe I could teach them about the tooth fairy? Once we''re done, I''m sure she''ll give you enough to buy food for a month." "Too bad there ain''t no bone fairy, or you could have bought a castle, little buddy." "Oh, I''m sure there''s one. We just have to try very hard." As the two thugs readied themselves for some fun until their friends arrived, some knocked at the door of the room they were in. "Uh, guess Gronko''s done. Wanna take of it, Carn?" "Sure. Besides, I''m sure he and Gonch would like to have some fun too before we begin. Maybe we could even wait for Daniel that way." Carn shrugged with a smile on his face as he walked to the door, but when opened it wasn''t his friends facing him. It was a shadow. Chapter 80 : Breaking stuff On the second floor of a decrepit abandoned building on Zalcien''s Black Block, Carn the thug opened the door to the room he and his friend Gaston were in, torturing Dane, a child that served as one of many of Guy''s informants. Instead of his friends and fellow goons working for Runar as he had expected, what stood in front of Carn was a shadow. A tall and thin humanoid black mass that darkened the world around it by simply existing, void of any feature on its ebony surface. Though he wasn''t the sharpest tool in the shed, Carn could easily recognize the thing he and the rest of the team had seen enter a shop - Silhouette, the creature their boss wanted to get his hands on. Carn didn''t even have the chance to speak out and warn Gaston before the thing began to talk with an otherworldly voice, a smooth tone with a strange hum and a sharp edge. Before the first word had even finished Carn already felt a chill going down his spine. "Normally, I''d offer for you to surrender, and if everything went well I would offer a job. But for you? I think I will make an exception." "Wha-" A tentacle sprang from Silhouette''s shadow and coiled around Carn''s body, snapping his legs together, forcing his arms behind his back, strangling his throat, and stuffing his mouth. Muffled screams tried to make their way through the dark flesh before the grip of the tentacle strengthened and Carn felt his bones creak. Seeing the fate of his friend Gaston promptly let go of Dane, letting the small hooded child''s body drop to the ground as the thug readied his mace and shifted into a fighting pose, some of the runes on the dodecahedral head of the mace glowing with a grey light. Before Dane''s weak and bloodied form could hit the ground shadows spread from where Silhouette stood in the doorway and rose to cushion their fall, gently taking hold of the young one''s barely conscious form and taking them away to a corner of the room as Silhouette advanced further into the room, approaching Gaston and leaving behind Carn, struggling to breathe in the constrictive grasp of a black tentacle rising from the darkness on the floor. "You ain''t gonna get the jump on me, buddy." "Do you think I need stealth to handle scum like you? No. My employees would already be more than enough to put you in your place, I simply didn''t want to disturb their work." "Big words for someone who keeps hiding." "You are confusing cowardice and strategy, much like you''re confusing bravery and stupidity." "Eh, you won''t be talking so tough once I break your bones." "There is nothing you can do to me." "This stuff can break a ghost''s bones, it''ll find something to break in you." "The only things your toy will shatter are your feeble hopes and expectations." Gaston groaned and struck at the ground where the ambient shadows kept spreading, more of the runes covering his mace lighting up as the metal of the head met the magical darkness and tore it apart, creating a hole in the black mass where the room''s original floor was now visible. "See? It''s going to-" Gaston fell silent and swung upwards to parry the assault of a tentacle falling from the ceiling and going for his neck, and then used his momentum to keep on bashing the shadowy limbs that emerged from the walls and the floor, destroying them in black splats that returned to the ever-encroaching darkness that spread from Silhouette''s body. As much as he would like to grin to taunt his opponent, Gaston knew better than to let himself get distracted from the deadly game of whack-a-mole. He might not have been an incredible warrior, but knowing how to handle swarms was one of the first things he had learned, growing up next to the nest of a Sickler pack. Silhouette may have been scary, but so far Gaston could handle it. And it''s as this thought went through Gaston''s head that something almost went through his hand, promptly blocked by a small shield formed from one of the runes on his mace''s handle. He hadn''t even had the time to see what it was before the thug felt a sharp pain in his shin and barely managed to stop himself from falling on his knee. He could feel shards of broken bones piercing his flesh and his blood flowing down to the floor, as well as a strange feeling slowly spreading, something that he knew was too cold to be blood from his experience with wounds, although he usually caused them instead of receiving them. He didn''t dare to look down to check what exactly the strangeness afflicting was, and his decision quickly paid off as more tentacles came from all directions to take him down, but his damaged shin made every movement more difficult and painful, and it wasn''t long before a stray tentacle coiled around Gaston''s neck, though he immediately blasted it apart with a strike of his mace as soon as he felt the pressure on his skin. But while Gaston was handling the tentacle choking him, he felt another bolt of pain in his other leg, more specifically in the knee, and this time he couldn''t stay upright and fell to the ground with a grunt. He didn''t even try to get up and instead did his best to crawl to a corner while still striking at any approaching tentacle and the growing darkness, leaving trails of blood in his wake that were quickly engulfed by the shadows. In this position, Gaston could see from the corner of his eye what had happened to his legs and had he had the freedom to he would have probably panicked. Disregarding the already grievous wounds that he knew would need to be treated by a professional, there was a creeping blackness slowly spreading through his damaged flesh and onto the rest of him, much like the shadows that grew from Silhouette''s form. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! "It appears you broke first. So tell me now, where has that confidence gone?" Gaston ignored the taunt and focused on striking away the tentacles that kept on coming and the darkness that kept on spreading, though he quickly noticed some sort of black orb shimmering into existence in front of Silhouette''s head before it began to morph, becoming longer and thinner and pointing straight at Gaston''s right shoulder. Thick as he was he could still easily guess that whatever it was that he was witnessing was probably what had hurt him and spread that weird poison thing, and it would be extremely stupid to let that hit him. When the strange floating object launched itself at his shoulder, Gaston was ready to bat the projectile out of the air, all of the runes on both the hilt and head of his mace lighting up to fight off the strange energy that kept trying to move forward and began to push back his enchanted weapon as it slowly came closer and closer, the muscles in his arm struggling to keep their hold. But none of that mattered when he felt something pierce through his other shoulder from the back to the front, the sharp pain distracting him just enough for his grip on his mace to falter and for the weapon to be sent flying into the air as the dark projectile it had been resisting finally reached its destination and plunged into Gaston''s right shoulder, pain and that strange coldness immediately spreading as Gaston couldn''t hold back a scream. A tentacle rose from the ground and picked up the runic mace as it grew, the black appendage taking care not to come into contact with any of the runes as Silhouette nonchalantly approached Gaston, more tentacles coming out of the walls and the floor to grab onto him and raise him to put his head at eye-level with Silhouette - though the dark figure had no eyes to speak of. "Now that this has been taken care of, let''s get to work, shall we? Although I am fairly certain I already know the answer, tell me, who do you work for?" "I... I ain''t talking, freak." "Oh, how sad. What could I possibly do to make you talk? Oh, I know, I''ll just have to use this interrogation technique I saw recently. It may be familiar." Before Gaston could understand what Silhouette was hinting at the tentacle holding his mace swung at his still healthy shin and smashed it, the thug letting out a scream of agony at the feeling of bone shards spreading through flesh and something more, risking a look down to see it had been completely obliterated, his foot only being still connected to the rest of his leg via a bundle of nerves and veins, blood dripping down like a flood onto the floor. "Oh, I didn''t expect that. I suppose you are more fragile than that child. Still, I''m far from being done interrogating you, it would be a shame if you died of blood loss now, wouldn''t it? Let''s fix that." Suddenly the blackness that had slowly spread from Gaston''s kneecap accelerated its growth and focused it downward, quickly covering what remained of his leg and his foot in black oil, the grievous damage to the limb slowly healing as more black mass grew and replaced, his original flesh, some of the coldness already flowing through the rest of his body as it replaced his lost blood. Now that he thought about it, Gaston checked his other wounds and noticed they were undergoing the same process. "Now, let''s try again. Who do you work for?" "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" "Tut tut, I''m asking the questions here. Let''s try one last time before I replace what''s inside your head. Who. Do. You. Work. For." Gaston had never been that afraid of death. He had been cautious, and he didn''t want to die that''s for sure, but it was more of an obvious fact than true fear. But now? Now he was terrified, and talking didn''t seem like such a bad idea anymore. "Runar! I work for Runar!" "Good, now we''re getting somewhere. Second question, how many of you are there? "I don''t know how many people work for him, but I came here with some friends. Carn, Gonko, Gonch, and Daniel." "And where are each of them?" "Carn''s the guy you got tangled up back there, Gronko was scouting the back of your store and Gonch was waiting for him, they should be back soon." "And what about Daniel?" "He... He went to get back-up." "I see. Any idea of what he could come back with?" "Probably just thugs and goons, maybe a rune mage or two, or even a knight if any of them is available and willing." "Tell me more about rune mages and knights." "I don''t know anything about magic, but from what I heard rune mages draw stuff to cast spells, and they usually fancy trinkets to cast things quicker. Knights are just strong dudes with enchanted armor and weapons." "Like your mace?" "Yeah, but the higher ranking guys have better stuff. Mine was just a reward for a job well done." "Any examples?" "The knights usually stay with each other, but everyone knows Karadok. He''s the strongest one and Runar''s right-hand man." "How strong would you say he is?" "I dunno, I never saw him fight. But I saw one of the regular knights fight once, she was dealing with a Sickler pack leader that was attacking the warehouse we were taking over. She focused on blocking its attacks before cutting its head off with one swing." "I see. I suppose your little team planned on taking care of me on your own?" "If we didn''t find anything too bad." "Too bad I found you first. And what were you planning on doing with our little friend here?" "The kid? We wanted to roughen them up ''till they spilled everything they knew, maybe have some fun afterward." "What sort of ''fun'', exactly?" "Ya know, beating them up, breaking some bones, the usual." Silhouette said nothing for a few long and unnerving seconds before dropping Gaston, letting his bloody fall to the floor with a meaty thud and a gasp of pain. "You''re not even worth interrogating. You know nothing any of Guy''s informants hadn''t told me." "Please, don''t kill me, I''ll-" "Who said anything about killing you? No, that would be far too easy." At that point the tentacle holding Carn exploded, turning into dozens of ribbons of living shadows that pierced through the thug again and again like it was sewing him together before they all merged into a cocoon. Muffled screams escaped the new atrocity before it burst open, revealing a pitch-black humanoid with a faint grey tone and empty eyes. "You, keep an eye on the others. If they try to run, break them." The thing that used to be Carn nodded before approaching Gaston as Silhouette and the cloak of shadows left the room, dark appendages still holding onto Dane''s unconscious form and Gaston''s runic mace. And before the dark grey flesh of whatever Carn had become blocked his vision, Gaston could see through the doorway Gonko and Gonch lying on the ground in a heap, completely knocked out, bloody and bruised, black spots on random parts of their bodies. For the first time in his life, Gaston prayed nothing would break. Chapter 81 : Getting prepared As soon as he had stepped into the Black Block, James had been fully aware someone was following him. That was the plan, after all, and why he appeared as Silhouette in the first place rather than his more discrete self, doubly so since he had completed the underground tunnel connecting the shop to the sewer lair. With his enhanced senses he quickly noticed the small kid that had begun to shadow him, and it didn''t take a genius to realize that it was probably one of Guy''s prot¨¦g¨¦s. They were supposed to stay clear of all matters related to Silhouette, but it wasn''t all that surprising that there would be a straggler who went against the orders. James also noticed the strange burly men that followed the child, and although it wasn''t exactly how he had intended to accomplish his objective James still took it as a win. Soon enough Runar''s men would try something and James would have an excuse to deal with them and cement his group as another faction worthy of respect instead of a bunch of misfits and monsters. Hopefully, the other gangs would see things this way. Once he was in front of his shop James took the time to pause to let his followers catch up to him, but also used this opportunity to truly take in the changes the building had gone through since its acquisition. Technically Maviza still owned it, but considering the profits they were bringing in rent would never be a problem, at least not before they established a new base in Zalcien proper and at this point, it would be wise to consider relocating. Once he had the right permits to sell all of his self-defense stuff, of course. Infusing the entire building had been a pain, especially since he had to keep pausing to scare off nosy locals and animals, and not only that but he had to take care of the facade nearly all at once to cover the infused black bricks with a coat of white paint to not arouse suspicion as to how a building became black all of a sudden and to avoid spooking potential customers. Going from a damaged facade to a pristine one in a single night was admittedly also weird, but since they had bought the white paint at a nearby store and the smell of fresh paint was still hanging around by the time morning came people hadn''t been all that curious, aside from wondering why they had painted the building in the dead of night. The sudden appearance of the black shingles on the roof technically could be seen as strange too, but if anything it was easier to cover up. James just had Mark and Jeffrey take down all of the ones still attached to the building while Barry and Larry went to buy some more to fill the holes left by time, and then he had just infused each and every one of those shingles before letting his men place them back. Once that was done James made use of his ability to roughly control infused materials to ensure they were properly attached to the rest of the structure. Admittedly James cheated and used tentacles to make the process faster since even with the large shingles of the local area it should have taken multiple days to do everything, but people in the slums weren''t used to buildings getting renovated and probably had no idea of how long shingling a roof took. Using infused glass was a given. After careful testing in the lair, it had turned out to be bulletproof and to be see-through on one side. Something to guarantee safety and privacy while still letting some light in was always nice. The new layer of black paint on the bottom of the facade was new, but Barry and Larry had informed him of their plan when they had asked for some infused paint. Not only did it give the shop a unique look but it caught the eye and might attract new customers, not only that but since it was infused James could use it to watch over the building. Technically he could just use the bricks in the walls or the shingles, but an unobstructed view at ground level was appreciated. The tentacles on the wall however were a surprise. He would need to have a word with the duo later on. After making sure the people following him had caught up, James had entered the shop and immediately warned all of his employees and the handful of customers that were present that an attack was incoming and they''d best be ready for a fight. The customers initially took the announcement as a threat until they realized Barry and Larry - now wearing complimentary black and white suits with very nice ties - welcomed James and treated him as their superior. The dastardly duo promptly reached under their shared desk and each pulled out a unique weapon that had yet to be put on the shelves, an electrorifle each. As could be guessed from the name, it was simply the rifle equivalent of an electrogun - though, in all honesty, it was closer to a blunderbuss - and since those models were meant to guarantee the safety of the shop James saw no problem with infusing both of them, he trusted Barry and Larry enough to let them wield those with infused batteries too, bringing out the full potential of the weapons. Mark and Jeffrey on the other hand had to rely on regular electroguns, but they had also been equipped with infused knives - or more accurately daggers after their transformations. They had been pretty loyal and obedient ever since he had recruited the ratkin and lizardman after the failed raid, but they hadn''t fully earned his trust yet. Maybe he could check with Barry and Larry afterward to see what they thought of their ex-rivals helpers. His employees warned, James had chosen to make use of the infused paint to check on the thugs'' plan, but sadly they had been cautious and had put some distance between them and the shop. They quickly dispersed with two of them staying around and approaching Guy''s prot¨¦g¨¦ while two others went away and the last one returned near the shop, though he quickly left the Black Block and appeared to be trying to attack the shop from the back. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. James didn''t like letting either of the two leaving thugs go, but the one trying to sneak in was a bigger problem. The thug himself didn''t look that remarkable, but it was entirely within the realm of possibilities he carried some kind of bomb or maybe a portable portal or anything really that could pause a threat without needing a strong user. Tracking the man was easy, confirming he was one of Runar''s men only took some roughening up, and he quickly confessed to what each member of the group was supposed to do - which is where things went downhill. As soon as he had learned how the group planned to learn more about him, he dragged the thug onto the Black Block and forced him to call for his friends. Soon after Gonch came by to help Gronko and swung at James before he simply blocked the attack and bonded the man in more tentacles, this time being more forceful to extract information as he was in hurry. The inhabitants of the slums were used to violence and so just gave James a wide margin as they went on about their day while he fired a shadow bolt into Gonch''s leg to make him talk. A little while later and here James was, taking care not to harm the feebled and bruised frame of the child he carried in his shadowy grasp with a lone appendage growing from the ground as he left the infused thug and his wounded friends behind to rush back to the shop. He would have preferred to bring the kid to Doctor Drake as soon as possible but he couldn''t leave his men behind in his shop while an unknown armed force with some kind of elite fighter was on their way. He rushed to the shop as fast as he could without risking worsening Guy''s prot¨¦g¨¦''s situation, and as soon as he was back in the building he hurried to put them down in the back of the storage room. They didn''t have any blankets sadly, and the child had to lay on the cold black tiled floor. An oversight he would have to fix for any similar situation in the future. "Mischief." A group of tiles in a corner of the room rose, lifted by a large black rat with purple highlights in its fur that emerged from the tunnel between the shop and the lair. Although no one should be able to use this tunnel without passing by either of the two guarded and secured locations, James preferred to have a few members of Mischief patrol it, just in case. Considering how many infused rats were currently obeying Polisson, rotating small groups of three individuals or so every hour wasn''t that big of a deal. "Go warn your closest companion, we''re soon going to be under attack and we may need reinforcements. As soon as you delivered that message, come back here and watch over that child." The rat nodded before scurrying away, letting the fake floor fall back and cover the tunnel once more. James was tempted to stay in the room and make sure no more harm would befall the kid and maybe check on their condition, but he knew he couldn''t afford to put his men in danger just for the sake of a child none of them knew. Soon James joined back with his four employees, each one as armed as they could be. It was strange to see the once dirty slum dwellers wearing more fashionable black and white clothes, with Larry and Barry going out of their way to wear opposing ones. James briefly wondered if it was why Barry had mutton chops and Larry a goatee, but it would be a silly thing to ask - especially now. "Are you all ready?" "Sure thing, boss. It ain''t the first time some bloke thinks they can walk in here and act like they own the place." "I made sure to evacuate all of the customers, and none of them tried to steal anything too!" "They''re probably waiting for thisss place to get blown up to sssalvage the wreckage." "Hey, Mark, happy thoughts!" The tall lizardman rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. It appeared his temperament had improved, not so long ago he would have belittled Jeffrey for his optimism. But now wasn''t the time to appreciate introspection and personal development. "From what I have learned, we should be dealing with a simple group of thugs, some may carry runic or enchanted items, and they could also be led by some sort of magic user or knight, possibly both or groups of them." "Bosssss, no offenssse, but even I could tell you that about Runar''s guys." "Maaark..." "I said no offenssse, Jeffrey. And I was trying to be helpful." "I appreciate the change of attitude, Mark, and your help in this development Jeffrey, but now we must focus on how to get rid of them." "We asked our customers about stuff they heard or learned, and according to some weird old harpy the mages that work for Runar write stuff with weird letters to make stuff happen. She also told me you could interrupt them if you stopped them from writing. She said her grandson picked a fight with one but since he kept punching the guy in the face he couldn''t do anything." "Barry, people can''t do much when they''re getting punched." "If it works, it works." "You two, how good are you when it comes to handling your weapons?" "Oh, we blasted a few things away!" "Regular thugs shouldn''t be an issue, boss. We even got rid of a few Cored. No idea of what they can do against runic or enchanted stuff, though." "If what happened with Grover is of any indication, a fully infused weapon with infused batteries should be able to handle some of it. I do not know how strong his armor was, but it was destroyed by a single electrogun shot." "So, as long as they aren''t sending in the big guns, we should be fine then? Good enough for me." James was getting ready to respond when he heard a sound and felt something spreading through the ground. A rumbling. Stomping. Before long, James and the others could see through the large one-way shop window a group of at least thirty men and women with various weapons approaching them, led by five people in brown robes with hoods covering their faces and with a book and a feather attached to a cord at their waist, as well as a group of three knights in plate armor - and the leader''s was covered in gold. "SURRENDER NOW, SILHOUETTE! OR FALL TO THE BLADE OF PIERCE EVIL!" Chapter 82 : Pierce Evil The slums of Zalcien had always been tumultuous, from their dark origins at the tentacles of an aberrant monstrosity that forever doomed its inhabitants and their descendants to a life of pariahs to the daily struggles of the people dealing with gangs and monsters. Still, there were a few places where one could say they felt relatively safe, the greatest of which was the Black Bank, a remarkable building in this ocean of poverty that represented the indifferent acceptance and protection of a significant institution even Villains at the scale of their country avoided angering. Its sheer presence was enough to make its surroundings safer, marking the very zone it was located in and granting it its name, the Black Border, whose main feature aside from the bank itself and the very border that delimited the frontier between the slums and the rest of the city was the Black Block. A place by the people, for the people. Oh, death was still prevalent in this area, but not as much as anywhere else in the slums. The locals and tourists only needed to worry about small-time thieves and serial killers with the occasional lonesome monster creeping in, but the gangs that imposed their will everywhere else had agreed upon letting the Block be a neutral zone to limit conflict and bloodshed - as well as to avoid making waves and angering the Black Bank by scaring their clients - and even the monster hordes that rampaged whenever they felt like it knew better than to approach the zone, years of culling at the border and the bank scaring them away from the area - and the few times they dared to threaten the peace the gangs united to fight them back, gathering the people''s love and ensuring they would still have customers to sell their illicit goods and services to. Occasionally a gang would make a show of force to assert themselves, and so long as it wasn''t too disruptive the others let it pass without repercussion, but at the end of the day it was a fact that the Black Block was one of the safest places in the slums. Which was the very reason why the people grew nervous as they saw a large group of armed thugs make its way to the area, a much larger group than any that had shown up for one of the gangs'' gloating sessions, and the five obvious magic practitioners and the three knights in shining armor leading them were a very worrying cherry on top. The obvious geometric patterns that occasionally glowed that covered the group''s equipment - runes - clearly marked them as people working for Runar, a historical member of Wicked Witchcraft, and one normally known for preferring to avoid flashy operations. Not only that, but anyone who knew about the elf''s main subordinates would instantly recognize the golden figure leading the group, Pierce Evil, one of the five Runarian Knights, the elites of the elf. Why was such a figure leading such a large force here today? What was happening? As the heavy steps of the golden knight and his men echoed across the Block, the people took in the sight. His armor was unlike his companions'' in more ways than just the materials and the color. It was fully covered in runes for one, each of the magical marks carefully engraved in the shining metal to promote both beauty and efficiency, but the very shape of the armor was vastly different from the other two. The grey iron plate armors the two persons accompanying were identical, they were those of soldiers, but Pierce Evil''s was one that anyone familiar with medieval history would recognize as meant for jousting - it was asymmetrical, with the left side from the man''s perspective featuring a metallic collar that rose to his eyes and a small shield-like protrusion attached to the pauldron, meant to serve as a target for the opponent''s lance. There were a lot of adjustments made to make the armor more resilient around the left shoulder since it was what was meant to hit, and each plate from one side to another above the waist were different from one another. And yet, despite wearing an armor meant for jousting, Pierce Evil was walking on foot. The man''s golden helm was topped by a large magenta feather fluttering in the wind, and at his left side dangled a rapier in its sheath of magenta leather, and on his right was a smaller similar sheath holding a dagger. Neither of the blades was exposed, but the designs on their hilts and the runes on the rest of the armor left little doubt that the two weapons were enchanted and powerful, surely more valuable than anything any of the slum dwellers on the Black had seen before. And before long, the eye-catching man stopped in front of a store, one of the latest additions on the Black Block, a building of black and white with paintings of tentacles. Beneath his helm, the man narrowed his eyes before putting his right hand on the handle of his rapier and drawing the blade out of its sheath, the golden metal of the sword glowing under the light of the sun and the purple magic of its runes, before he lifted the weapon and pointed it at the door of the shop, his noble voice echoing out in a self-righteous yell. "SURRENDER NOW, SILHOUETTE! OR FALL TO THE BLADE OF PIERCE EVIL!" The crowd watched in awe, worried whispers quickly filling the silence left by the golden knight''s declaration. Rumors had circulated about Silhouette, the mysterious figure one small group of thugs once sighted in the sewer tunnels, Guy had even gathered a small team to check things out... And the team never had come back. Not long after, a new shop opened, selling gear filled to the brim with dark energy, a shop supposedly managed by Silhouette according to the men manning the counter and their helpers...Some recalled the strange and tall figure they had seen dragging thugs earlier, and their imagination ran wild. All gasped at once and fell silent as black fumes escaped through the bottom of the door to the shop, and their eyes widened as shadows grew and spread out of the building, the dark grey stony pavement of the Black Block getting covered by a layer of magical black as the door opened and a voice boomed out. "Pierce Evil, servant of Runar. Your beloved leader sent armed forces after me with no warning once in the past, and yet here I stand. Do you think I fear your blade? That I value your words? That I do not know what fate Runar has in store for me if I accept your offer? No. I will be no one''s slave, no one''s toy, no one''s weapon. I am Silhouette, and if one must surrender today, it shall be YOU!" The golden knight huffed before raising his radiant rapier above his head and pointing it at the sky, the falling rays of the sun illuminating all around him with the shine of his weapon''s golden metal, before in one quick gesture lowering it back in front of him, still pointing to the heavens, and finally putting his weapon to his side, forming a perfect 45¡ã angle between the blade and his right leg. "If it is conflict you seek, fiend of shadow, then may the hostilities begin. But before we begin, know that you will fall to Pierce Evil, the Golden Cross of the Runarian Knights. My master wishes to see you captured, hence why I will show mercy on you. But your minions aren''t required, and I have received no order to have them spared. Do you truly not value their lives? Do they truly believe you can win this war?" "If they did not, they wouldn''t be standing here with me today." Pierce Evil scoffed before raising his rapier once more. "Men! Ready yourselves for battle! Mages! Bring down this bastion, that we may face our opponents!" The five figures in hooded brown robes nodded and stepped forward to form two lines, three of them standing in the back while the other two were at the front between each knight and Pierce Evil. They reached for the plumes and books attached to the cords at their waists and opened the former with their left hands while the right one readied their writing tool to cast spells, and as they began to sketch runes with their magical feathers'' ink onto the white paper- Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Two bolts of dark lightning escaped the confines of Silhouette''s shop and struck the two mages in the front, a protective bubble of grey light appearing around each brown-robed figure before they promptly shattered under the might of the dark power attacking them, the lighting quickly entering each of the mages'' body and making both of the magic casters screech in agony, more and more dark power erupting from within to join in the wild energies attacking them - as though their very powers were betraying them to join the shadowy attack. Out of nowhere more bolts of black lightning escaped from the mages and struck the knights, Pierce Evil, and the other three mages behind them. Each of the knights clad in iron armor readied their shield and blocked the assault while the mages in the back stopped their first spell to write chains in the air that somehow reinforced their passive protective bubbles and fully dispelled the lighting, while Pierce Evil''s rapier suddenly shined in a magenta light and attracted the two bolts aiming at him and trapped them around the blade, black electricity running wild before the golden knight suddenly lowered his weapon, throwing the dark energy back to the shop where it was suddenly stopped by the maw of darkness at the door, still hiding what laid inside the building. All stared at the twitching bodies of the two mages that had been hit by the attack, and how they contorted in shapes that could only be possible by breaking some bones, how sparks of black electricity escaped their skin before going back in such a manner that it made the people wonder that they were perhaps alive, and prolonging their victims'' suffering in some sadistic glee. From up close, the six remaining leaders of the group also noticed the black patches of a strange matter on them, something beyond the simple charring of materials exposed to the high temperatures of lightning. "What foul sorcery. It is no wonder you are of interest to our leader, you vile creature. Men! Do everything you can to avoid this vile black power, I am certain its effects go beyond merely killing its victims. Mages! Two of you are in charge of protecting the third one with shields, as well as yourselves. The last one will continue the original plan and bring down this shop. Squires, be ready to engage any elite opponent the enemy may send at us." The two knights and the three mages nodded before shifting position, the mage in the center of the line stepping back while the other two raised their grimoires and began to write while the two iron-clad men stepped forward and brought their shields to their torsos, ready to block any incoming strike or projectile. Another pair of black lightning bolts came from the darkness within the shop and once more they were aimed at the mages, but this time the group was ready and the knights, contrary to what their heavy armors would imply, moved at frightening speeds to intercept the attacks with angled shields to redirect them away, letting the energy disperse into the ground and spreading even more darkness on the floor. As another pair of bolts were fired once more, the mages in charge of protecting the third finished their inscriptions and closed their books to confirm the spell, the leather-bound tomes glowing in grey light as a transparent barrier with a similar glow formed out of thin air and intercepted the dark energies, black sparks flying around before they faded away. "Good work, mages. See, Silhouette? You cannot assault us from your little hiding place now that we''ve seen your trick. So come on out and face us like a warrior!" "One against thirty-five? That doesn''t sound like honorable odds, knight. Nevertheless, I haven''t attacked once so far." "What?" "I told you I had loyal and efficient employees." Two figures emerged from the maw of darkness behind the shop''s door, one tall and lanky and the other small and broad. In the ambient shadowy fumes that bloated the area, Pierce Evil had trouble discerning more, even with his enhanced sight and his helm''s enchantments, though he could still recognize the shape of weapons in their hands. Some kind of hunting rifle or blunderbuss? He wasn''t an expert in firearms, but those must have been the ones behind the previous attacks. Pierce Evil didn''t have to give the order, all of the people accompanying him were experienced enough to know that taking down unknown weapons was always a priority. His fellow knights, though too low-ranking to be anything but squires in his eyes, were already stepping forward to engage these new foes while one of the mages in charge of the barrier seized maintaining it - forcing his colleague to work even more to protect the one in charge of creating a siege spell - and quickly wrote into the air a spell to send to the new duo, a simple bolt of pure force and magic was the best he could do if he wanted to ensure it would hit before they had the time to react. And as more of the people behind the leading group readied themselves, the few holding guns or crossbows or any other weapon with ranged capacities aiming at the two figures that had left the shop to shoot them down while those with melee equipment got ready for a charge, the knights rushed forward into the black fog, once more going at speeds that would seem impossible with the armors they were wearing, running as fast as any street urchin would after stealing from a market stall. They raised their sword high, ready to cut down their foes, and held their shields tight and close to block any attack that may come. And as their blades fell to strike their foes, the figures split in two, letting the swords cleave through nothing but air. Pierce Evil didn''t even get the chance to express his surprise before once more bolts of black energies left the shop, this time aimed at the knights'' heads, and after their attack, their shields weren''t ready. Two clangs echoed across the Black Block as the two iron helms flew, the grey metal covered in runes quickly getting covered in darkness as the two knights stepped back, unharmed but missing a vital piece of equipment that left their faces exposed. One was a black woman in her sixties and the other a young Asian boy, and both shared the same frustrated face as they stared at where their targets once stood, remnants of something disappearing into the shadows on the ground, nothing left behind but vague fumes of a missed force bolt spell at one spot. As their golden leader began to issue an order, the runic mage who was supposed to create the siege spell to break down the shop screamed out of nowhere, prompting Pierce Evil and the regular thugs to turn and stare at the sight - the knights too focused on the shop to block any further attack and the other two mages still hard at work to maintain their barrier. What greeted the Runarian Knight''s eyes was a nightmarish sight, tentacles had emerged from the expanding darkness on the ground and were constricting around him, only held at bay by the bubble of protection inscribed in his robes, and said bubble was showing more and more cracks under the assault of the shadowy appendages. Pierce Evil''s weaponry focused on pierces and thrusts, and anything he would have tried to rid the mage of his assailants would have only further damaged the bubble, hence why he had no choice but to rely on his more mundane troops. "Someone with a sharp weapon, come here and help him get rid of those tentacles!" A woman carrying an axe stepped forward, but before she had the time to reach the bubble it was too late: darkness spread from the tentacle and covered the magical orb with black material, and when she ran and swung her weapon to break it away, the bubble shattered and let a cloud of dark smog out. The thugs stepped away when they heard the axe-wielding woman scream as the gas engulfed her. Pierce Evil raised his golden rapier, magenta light escaping from its countless runes, and with a thrust that bent to aim at the sky magenta energy escaped the weapon to form a gust of magical wind that blew the dark smog apart high into the air, leaving two blackened bodies lying inert on the ground. The golden knight grit his teeth before yelling. "Men! Attack at once! Mages! Prove me that you are worth working for us and not mere targets happy to be taken down! Squires! Don''t get fooled again! And all of you, watch your step!" The group stared at their shining leader, immobile. "CHARGE, YOU INCOMPETENT CRETINS!" They didn''t need to hear more, and at once the melee fighters rushed to the shop while those with ranged abilities preferred finding a good spot to aim from. The remaining mages looked at each other and nodded before standing back to back, unwilling to share the fates of their allies. The knights grimaced as they slowly walked forward, taking care to hide as much of their heads as possible behind their shields. As for Pierce Evil? The golden knight took out his dagger with his left hand, exposing the strange teeth-like pattern it had on one of its edges, and bright magenta energy escaped from many of the now glowing runes on his armor. "I will be humiliated no further, Silhouette. And your blood shall clean my dishonor." And with that, the Runarian knight joined the charge. Chapter 83 : Defending the shop As thirty men and women charged toward his shop, led by a pair of helmetless knights in iron armor and a very eye-catching one wearing golden jousting equipment while a couple of mages stood in the back ready to fire spells to help the horde, a single thought went James'' head. I can''t believe I think we can win. Who would have known that after being killed by a single assailant with a simple knife, James would find himself looking upon a charging horde of people wielding magical weapons without panicking? A good share of it was probably from his new body''s equivalent to adrenaline, that was undeniable, and he would most likely need a few hours of cuddling with the ratlings when this was all over, but he was still certain they could deal with Pierce Evil''s attack. They had already taken care of three out of five runic mages, which in his opinion were the greatest threat aside from Pierce Evil himself, and the two regular knights had lost their helmets, which meant they wouldn''t be as confident when it came to attacking since blocking any attack exposed them to receive another one on their heads. He had to give credit to Barry and Larry, for people who hadn''t used a gun - at least not regularly - before meeting me, they were scarily effective with their electrorifles. They definitely earned a bonus when this was all over. But James couldn''t afford to relax now, not with the small army of thugs running at them and especially so with Pierce Evil himself joining the fray. He didn''t know much about the golden knight, aside from the fact he was what Guy had called a Runarian Knight when he had first interrogated the man after recruiting him. Apparently, they were an elite force of knights with better runic enchantments on their equipment than anyone else working for Runar could ever dream to have. Supposedly Pierce Evil was a fighter who specialized in duels, taking on powerful opponents one on one. Guy couldn''t tell much more, he may have been an information seller valued by everyone but at the end of the day he was still a small fry, he valued his prot¨¦g¨¦s too much to risk sending them to spy on big fights or large operations. James gave the signal for Barry and Larry to fire, the duo nodding as they took care to aim through the wall of darkness James had erected, looking through the pitch-black thanks to their pairs of infused glasses. Following many complaints by his human employees, James had tried his best to find a way to let them see in the dark without using light or everlanterns which could give away their position, or commissioning expansive night vision equipment from Sa- Techlord. Infusing a pair of glasses they had found abandoned in the Sunken City was the first try, and somehow it worked. Although the black glass was very similar to the one that covered windows, it had the added effect of letting its wearer see perfectly fine in dark environments, without removing their regular day vision too. Techlord had been very happy at that development and had quickly asked for multiple infused lenses, probably for his new suit. Larry and Barry aimed and fired two new bolts of dark energies on the charging horde, this time not at the mages or knights but instead the regular fighters that made the brunt of the attacking force. Just like after their initial salvo, once the black electricity was done with its intended victim, it spread by forming dark arcs that assaulted any that stood nearby, quickly spreading through the ranks of the thugs with a rise of screams that grew more and more numerous and more and more pained. Many among the hired muscles and goons of Runar looked upon their fellow men and women and found themselves realizing that they, the mundane, could never hope to do anything against a powerful Cored foe, no matter how shiny the runic weapons they had been given were. As the black energy faded away after taking down a third of the thirty, ten more of them chose to stand back, and, though they weren''t outright fleeing since that would attract the unwanted attention of their leaders, they still did their best to slowly distance themselves from the group and possibly mingle with the surrounding crowd of scared slums dwellers. Scared as the locals were, witnessing a fight of this magnitude was also fascinating, and they had trouble looking away. Among them, floating from another of the buildings that surrounded the market and formed the border of the Black Block, was a small wrinkly crystalline psychic alien squid that looked upon the scene, worried for the strange young man she had come to know, for she was certain she could recognize his mind somewhere in Silhouette''s shop. Of course, at the dynamic duo of Barry and Larry fired at their assailants, James wasn''t idle - far from it. Tentacles rose from the pavements - or more accurately, the shadows that had been expanding from the shop to the rest of the area - and struck at the attackers, grasping thugs, dragging them to the ground, bashing on the protective bubbles of the mages as they madly wrote in their grimoires to create better shields before the ones inscribed in the runes of their robes broke, whipping the knights as they tried to approach and forcing them to back away step after step as they did all they could to negate the force impacting their shields, and finally slashing and stabbing Pierce Evil, or at least doing their best. As the golden knight advanced rapidly - closer to a power walk than a jog or a run, and yet just as fast as the regular thugs - each tentacle that grew too close to his shining figure soon found itself destroyed, not by some aura or wide spell, but purely by technical prowess. Every time a tentacle adorned with a blade or spike approached him, Pierce Evil blocked the solid part with his strange dagger, trapping what he could in the teeth-like pattern on its one edge and then with a flick of the wrist throwing the squirming black appendage to the side in a perfect posture to stab it with his rapier without leaving it the chance to defend itself, and whenever James tried sending in multiple tentacles at the same time Pierce Evil did an incredible feat of footwork, dancing between the black appendages and stabbing them as he walked whenever he could while redirecting the stabbing ones with his dagger once more. If James'' tentacles had been made of regular flesh, had he been some sort of giant land octopus or small continental Kraken, then maybe this strategy wouldn''t have been as effective - what could stab wounds made with a thin weapon do to something that had no bone or organ, after all, besides draw some blood? But the reality of things was that James'' body was weird and, as far as he knew, somehow made of living darkness, and whatever enchantments the golden knight had on his equally shiny rapier they were wreaking havoc on his shadowy flesh in quite the painful manner, though it seemed his experience with the demon Sydakors improved James'' pain tolerance, good to know. If tentacles don''t work, I have something that will! As more tentacles kept on rising from the shadows on the ground to try and hold back Pierce Evil, some other things began to emerge from the ambient darkness - black orbs, throbbing as though alive, in truth constantly growing and getting condensed by James'' will. He had trained after his encounter with Sydakors to find a better way to bring out the final attack that he had chucked at the demon''s exposed and vulnerable soul, and although the process was as streamlined as he was doing it on multiple orbs at the same time he didn''t have to keep physical contact to do it anymore. Beneath his helm, the golden knight narrowed his eyes as he noticed the orbs forming in the corner of his vision, suspiciously hidden by tentacles that kept on attacking him despite their obvious ineffectiveness. Out of precaution, he chose to thrust at one of them from a few meters away, runes lighting up on his rapier and forming a spike of magenta energy that flew through the air to impact the ball of darkness, causing it to explode in some strange spherical hurricane of power and shadows, winds forming as it turned and tried to inhale anything in the vicinity. Pierce Evil scoffed before stepping to the side, continuing his path to the gaping maw of darkness that stood behind the shop''s door, getting dangerously close to the building as he yelled at his troops. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. "Beware the black orbs! They contain a destructive and corruptive power that will most certainly tear you apart! Mages! Get rid of them!" The two figures in brown hooded robes barely reacted to his call, too focused on casting shield after shield to keep the tentacles attacking them at bay. "MAGES! I GAVE YOU AN ORDER!" For the first time since they had appeared, one of the two magic practitioners spoke up. "We''re busy keeping ourselves alive, you can destroy them yourself!" For the first time since the beginning of his charge, Pierce Evil stopped - relatively, since he constantly kept on stepping to the side and twirling and whatever else his strange footwork required him to do to handle the constant onslaught of dark tentacles, but at least he stopped moving toward the shop - and slowly turned around to stare at the one that had dared speak up through the magic shield covered in aggressive black appendages. "Was that insubordination, mage?" "YES! You''re an idiot! We''re mages, we''re supposed to be in the back, protected by elite warriors, like, say, the knight you tasked on rushing at the enemy! The very same knights who currently are stuck where they began because they have no support to help them deal with whatever the hell we were sent here to fight! Support WE could provide if we weren''t getting piled on by more tentacles than there ever was on a fish market! If you''re so confident you can deal with everything on your own, great! Just do it instead of sending us into the grinder! And look at the guys you brought for the job! A third is dead, another trying to get away, and what''s left is on the way to join either of the first two! You''re an incompetent leader!" Pierce Evil looked at the dissenter for a few long and silent seconds before pointing the tip of his rapier at the mage. "Are you certain you can make such a claim and live?" "Kill me all you want, either way, Runar will be mad at you. What will he say when one of his knights wasted tons of minions and a group of mages, as well as a couple of knights?" One by one, runes lit up on Pierce Evil''s rapier. "He won''t care if I complete our mission, which should be your objective. Now, will you do as I ask and help me capture this vile creature for our leader as you were ordered, even if it might mean your demise, or will you die a coward''s death as a worthless rebel?" The mage spat on the ground before lowering the hood of the brown robe, revealing the face of a young woman with pale skin, green eyes, and long black hair. "I would die for Runar, but I ain''t dying for a shiny idiot like you." "So be it, rebel scum." As magenta light began to form at the very tip of the golden rapier, the various black orbs James had been readying all congregated onto Pierce Evil, shadowy trails forming behind the dark projectile as they all converged into a single point in the center of the knight''s torso. Or they would have, had Pierce Evil not gone above and beyond all of James'' expectations. The magenta light at the rip of the rapier faded away as the knight resumed his impressive footwork to avoid the incoming attacks, but this time something different happened. Magenta light appeared once more, but not on his golden rapier. No, this time, it came from his entire armor, especially the runes on his legs and boots. And suddenly, every thought James had about the man being dastardly quick despite his heavy armor was ridiculed. The man''s shiny form turned into a blur as he passed between the orbs and, much to James'' growing horror, ran faster than any man should ever be able to straight at the shop, ignoring the screams of the mages, of the knights, and the thugs, as they all bared witness to the massive explosion of darkness that occurred right where the Runarian knight had stood, a huge spinning dome of mad shadows that grew taller than the shop itself was as light detritus were inhaled by the black winds. Pierce Evil didn''t care as he put his foot inside the shop and barely blocked with both his arms the massive mass of darkness that struck him, a desperate thing that James barely put together more out of reflex than anything else, the force of it pushing the knight back out as James boosted it with all of his available mass, retracting the shadows on the ground as he grabbed onto Pierce Evil''s armor with all he had, disregarding the burning brought by the protective runes engraved in the golden metal. "So you finally show yourself, Silhouette." James ignored him as he pressed on, his body not taking any particular form as trying to be anything but a wriggling mass of shadows consumed too much mental energy, all of which was currently focused on strengthening his will to keep his hold on Pierce Evil and continue to push him back, slowly going closer and closer to the awe-struck helmetless knights and the mages who couldn''t keep their jaws closed, and to ensure he couldn''t move his weapons. "I must say, behind all the deceit and trickery, you prove yourself to be a valuable foe. Once lord Runar is done training you, some light sparring might prove beneficial." For all his words Pierce Evil still struggled to move his arms in more than light shaking, unable to bring his weapons down on James'' flesh, while the reincarnee couldn''t do much more than keeping his opponent at bay. A perfect stalemate, or perhaps a battle of attrition. That is, if they were alone. "All of you, knock some sense into this creature. Don''t kill him, lord Runar wants him alive." The mages looked at each other but before they had the time to speak the two knights stepped forward, swords and shields in hands, and they got ready to bash the black mass with the flat of their blades before a pair of black electricity bolts struck them, launching the weapons away as the two returned to a defensive posture with their shields at the ready. Without the fog of darkness inside, all could clearly see the short lanky man and the small broad one in black and white, each holding a strange long black weapon that looked like a strange hunting rifle that ended in a dark crystal instead of a muzzle. "Don''t forget us." "Barry, you know we''re unforgettable." "That we are Larry, that we are." Pierce Evil grumbled as his squires stood there, doing nothing. "Come on you two, do your job. Get some of the men back there to give you a hand if you need to. Get rid of Silhouette''s employees if you need to, we don''t need them." As a pair of thugs heard the call and ran toward the shop, two more bolts appeared and were promptly blocked by the knights'' shields, but just as the thugs were ready to step in two pairs of black daggers emerged from the sides of the door, cutting the invaders'' throats as a lizardman and a ratkin revealed themselves to stand next to the other two employees. "Mark, Jeffrey, good to see you decided to stay rather than flee or defect." "Thisss is the bessst job we had in years, I ain''t giving it up." "Isn''t it poetic? Two formerly rival bands, standing together for their last stand in a bittersweet ending?" "Shut up." "Sorry." Once more Pierce Evil yelled at his men. "Men! There are only four of them still able to fight, are you sorry lot unable to handle that? Come on now and help me put an end to this!" "I do believe it is time for this nonsense to end, yes." All involved in the fighting turned around at that new voice to stare at its origin, only to discover the crowd of locals had parted to let a single man through, a simple human with black hair and oddly perfectly black eyes, wearing a black three-piece suit with a black tie and a white shirt, a symbol sewn in white thread on his jacket placed over his heart, a pair of cursive capital "B"s interlaced. James may have been too busy holding back Pierce Evil to let his head work properly and notice the weirdly pristine man in the slums, but even then he wasn''t familiar enough with the area to understand what it meant. Everyone else, however, did. The manager of the local branch of the Black Bank was here. Chapter 84 : The Black Bank manager Today was a weird day for the people of the slums of Zalcien living near the Black Block. A troop of thugs and a few mages led by a trio of knights, chief of which was Pierce Evil, one of the most important subordinates of Runar, the enchantment specialist of Wicked Witchcraft and notable crime lord, had arrived on the block and attacked one the latest shops around, a place owned by a newcomer named Silhouette, and the battle had been quite eye-catching. Bolts of black electricity, explosions of darkness, countless tentacles made of living shadows, and magenta magic had fought until most of the thugs either had been felled or had fled, only two of the mages were still around and the knights had their helmets blown off. It was at this point that Pierce Evil jumped into the fray and directly attacked Silhouette, the two leaders ending stuck in a stalemate where one couldn''t move and the other couldn''t do anything but prevent the other from moving. As it looked the battle would be decided by the fighting prowess of the remaining minions of each side, a new figure appeared on their little public battlefield, the surrounding crowd parting to let him through. The human man didn''t look all that remarkable when it came simply to his features, with a face youthful yet mature enough to place him somewhere in his thirties, short shiny black hair combed and gelled into an elegant haircut, fair skin, and the only somewhat notable outlier, a pair of eyes with perfectly black irises. His height wasn''t anything to write home about, maybe slightly smaller than average, but his clothes on the other hand were exquisite. A black three-piece suit with a black tie and a white shirt, with black leather shoes. On his jacket, over his heart, was sewn with white thread a simple yet elegant design, a pair of cursive capital "B"s interlaced. Such a pristine figure in the slums was quite alien, and that was quite the feat since there was an actual extraterrestrial in the crowd, a small wrinkly psychic crystalline squid that was currently very worried for the young man she had met some time ago, and that she knew was somewhere around the attacked shop. The man wore a smile on his face, but it wasn''t the simple joy of the kind man, or the sadistic glee of a psychopath, no, it was the mechanical smile of a businessman, the facsimile of human emotion used to hide what truly happened in their head. Maltodextrin felt a shiver go through her flesh, from the tip of her crystalline growth to the very tip of her tentacles, passing through the dimensional tunnels she kept most of the length of her limbs in, she could feel how the logical mind of the man before analyzed everything that was happening around him, but everything else was muddled by the countless meaningless yet complex thoughts processes he ran in the foreground of his mind - a classic technique to hide someone''s true thoughts from psychic and unwanted telepaths like her, but the level at which he did it... The man felt more like a sentient calculator than a person, and even then the living calculators on her home planet held more feelings than what emanated from this man. Either he was an incredible genius, or he truly was an unfeeling biological machine. "Gentlemen, I believe it is time to put an end to this senseless violence. It isn''t good for business, you know." James, currently too busy trying to keep his hold onto Pierce Evil to even bother looking like anything but a wriggling mass of black matter and tentacles, obviously couldn''t afford the mental effort to listen to whatever the newcomer on the battlefield was saying. And as for his opponent, the golden knight heard the man in a suit''s words loud and clear, but he chose to ignore him - he was close to completing his mission, and all he needed was for his men to grow a backbone already and come help him. Upon seeing he had been ignored, many among the crowd turned to look at his face, expecting some kind of frown or even a simple eye twitch out of anger or annoyance at the blatant disregard, and yet his smile remained unchanged, as though nothing had happened. "Ah, I see, you''re both quite busy. Let''s remedy that, shall we?" With a snap of his fingers something odd happened, a burst of air appeared between the two leaders and sent James back to the entrance of his shop while Pierce Evil was pushed to the center of the group of thugs lying on the ground and covered in black patches. The Runarian knight immediately tried to rush back to the shop but as soon as he took a single step an incredible pressure kept him locked to this spot and dispelled any magenta energy he had running through his armor''s runes, disabling his magic. "Now that the two of you are in the right conditions to discuss, let''s talk, shall we?" James returned to his usual Silhouette shape as he finally took in the sight of the strange man, and he immediately realized something was off. His appearance, the way the locals showed reverence, how he casually repelled Pierce Evil despite the dozens of enchantments on his armor... This wasn''t someone James could afford to annoy. Pierce Evil for his part realized trying to go against the power keeping him from the shop was useless and instead turned around to see who had interrupted him, and it was at this point that he recognized the man standing before him. Before he had the chance to voice his thoughts, the odd man himself spoke up. "I believe some proper introductions are in order. I am Blake Black, manager of the local branch of the Black Bank, and great-grand-nephew of our beloved founder and current chairman, Noir Black." This definitely sounds like the kind of person you don''t want to annoy. I am NOT dealing with "young master" antics. "My name is Silhouette. I am the... I suppose saying ''the owner'' would be incorrect since we are currently renting the building, but I am the director of this shop." "Oh, I have heard much about you mister Silhouette. Your shop has been the talk of the town in the area, and I have heard much about the products from satisfied customers. Why just the other day we had to deal with an armed robber wielding one of your electroguns!" "Oh. I am quite sorry about this development. I can assure you I wasn''t involved in this incident." "Oh, do not worry yourself. If we were to antagonize anyone selling weapons that had been used against us, our biggest clients would be our greatest enemies! But I must say, I can certainly appreciate the quality of your products, especially given your current resources. Would you be interested in taking a loan to expand your business? We at the Black Bank can recognize potential when we see it." "I-" "There will be no need for a loan since we are here to capture this creature and bring it back for training, Black." "Oh, mister Pierce Evil, how rude of you to interrupt our conversation. Though I suppose it was rude of us to ignore you, so I''ll let it slide for now. Though, I am quite curious. Mister Runar isn''t the kind of man I''d picture approving of slavery, violence yes, but I always assumed he found it more efficient to pay his workers than threaten them, so why the sudden change of heart?" "Lord Runar''s decisions are his to make, I am only here to enact his will." "If you say so, though I must say you fine gentlemen''s merry battle has been quite troublesome. The people of the Black Block are all either hidden in their homes or here to witness mindless violence, and people from neighboring areas have been scared away. Yes, certainly, today will not be a productive one for our glorious establishment. Not only for us but for the rest of the Black Block too. Merchandise was stolen from stalls amid the chaos, money was ''lost'', shoppers have fled, merchants have left..." Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "I am deeply sorry if our fight has disturbed your and the rest of the Black Block''s activity, but I was quite busy protecting myself and mine from an unwarranted assault and couldn''t afford to keep things calm." "Yes, I am aware of the situation, and-" "Unwarranted? You wiped out an entire team sent to investigate the sewers!" "A team of armed individuals sent to capture me, yes, I did take care of it. And they were not ''wiped out'', they had every chance to surrender and many took this opportunity, most of which have now become my employees, with much better pay and working conditions. Just ask the two with daggers." "Quite the remarkable feat of hostile takeover! I must say, I am impressed. Offering better pay to mercenaries sent after you by competitors is a classic maneuver, but to be able to do it so early on in your carreer and to do so permanently with a long-term job... I must say, mister Silhouette, the more I learn the more I am pleased." "In any case, I am here to retrieve that creature, and you are stopping me from doing so, Black. Why?" "Well, mister Pierce Evil, as I''ve just said I see a lot of potential in mister Silhouette''s future, a breath of fresh air that would greatly benefit Zalcien and its people, which would, in turn, benefit us. Surely mister Runar understands that a supplier of rare products of high quality is more valuable than a mere assassin, no?" "I told you, Black, I-" "That, and, again, as I mentioned earlier, your little feud has caused a disturbance that is hurting the entire area''s business. You broke the unwritten rules of the Black Block by starting a large-scale conflict, mister Pierce Evil, and I am quite certain I''m not the only one unhappy with your actions today." "I am only doing my job, Black. Once we''re done here, we''ll leave. It''s as simple as that." For the first time since the conversation began, Blake Black didn''t speak with a smile on his face, for at Pierce Evil''s words he simply chuckled. If so far the branch manager''s voice had been a friendly yet polite non-emotional tone, commonly used by businessmen and conmen, the chuckle that came out of his throat was a much darker thing. Many among the crowd found themselves shivering at the sound. And, as though it had all been a hallucination, when Blake spoke again his voice was back to his previous tone. "Ah, mister Pierce Evil, it appears you do not understand. I am telling you to leave, now." "And if I refuse, Black?" "Why, I suppose I will have no choice but to punish your obvious disregard of the Black Bank''s authority, banishing you from our client list and keeping everything you have currently stored in your vault and all the money on your account should be enough to send a message." "Go ahead, Black. I have never been one for banks, I prefer keeping things under my watch." "Ah, but that would only be the punishment for your intolerable behavior. Since you represent mister Runar''s will, by your own words, then I will have to fine your group for an amount equivalent to the projected profits lost today. Depending on his response, mister Runar too might find complications in regards to his account." Pierce Evil took a step forward, but not towards the shop. "You wouldn''t dare." "We are the Black Bank, mister Pierce Evil. We are not a gang you can threaten, or a governmental group held back by morals or laws. We are an institution older than this country, we will exist long after it has fallen. We dare." In a split second Pierce Evil was covered in magenta energy and looked like a pink bonfire, flying at high speeds and thrusting his rapier. Blake stood still and his face and posture remained unchanging as the golden metal covered in runes and magic of the knight''s weapon passed a breath from his skin and cut through his hair, a few black strands floating down to the ground as the two men stared at each other''s eyes. "You do not wish to make an enemy out of me, Black." "Oh, mister Pierce Evil, do you have any idea of how much that haircut cost me? Why, the fee to make a competent hairdresser teleport to my office alone is something beyond what your meager pay earns you in a year." "I. Do. Not. Care." "But you should. Because now you have to repay me." The golden knight scoffed. "I will do no such thing." "Oh, but you have no choice in the matter mister Pierce Evil. Let''s see... Your armor is just painted and enchanted brass, so it wouldn''t be enough. The craftsmanship is impressive, though, and the runes are the true worth of your equipment. So, I''ll leave you the metal and I''ll be taking the rest." "What are you-" Blake Black snapped once more, but the effects this time were incredibly different. Pierce Evil began to float, and panic spread through his being. Slowly the runes on his armor began to leave, the engravings getting stripped off to float midair and leaving smooth metal behind, but not for long. As soon as all of the runes covering the armor were hovering to the side, the metal melted - not because of heat, but pure magical power. Soon a tall muscular blond man with pale skin and in white clothes was left where once stood a golden knight, and a cube of brass the size of a watermelon and a small transparent orb joined the runes floating in the air. Only his magenta leather belt and his weapons had been spared from the spell, and without the mass of his armor, the belt had fallen to the ground. All looked in amazement at Pierce Evil and the magic that had stolen his armor, and all with any magical knowledge felt shivers go down their spines at the display of power beyond what any of them could ever hope to reach. The armorless knight, for his part, quickly went from confusion to anger as the magic put him back down to the ground. "What did you just do-" "Mister Pierce Evil, you damaged something very expensive, so I took the equivalent of the money wasted from what you own. You can keep the metal, I only need the rest." "Give me back my armor, you-" "Do you truly wish to lose your weapons too? Right in front of a man you just attacked?" The blond man turned around to stare at Silhouette and scoffed. "Men. We''re leaving." At his words, only five thugs joined him, along with one of the remaining runic mages and the pair of knights. Raising an eyebrow at the number, Pierce Evil looked along and realized the rest of those he had brought with him were either lying on the ground or gone. He grumbled and tightened his belt as he sheathed back his weapons and picked up the cube of brass before leaving the Black Block, his paltry troop following him nervously. Seeing the threat leaving, James left his shop and approached Blake. "I suppose attacking him now would be uncivilized, and would go against your little show of force." "Ah, you are a smart one mister Silhouette. Yes, I cannot allow you to harm him now. A messenger that dies before reaching its goal is worthless. And you should know, my intervention today was an exceptional occurrence, brought by mister Pierce Evil''s public actions. I am not a Hero, it isn''t in my interest to go out of my way to save people. If mister Runar sends more men after you in a less public setting..." "If you have to intervene to save me again, I''ll owe you some kind of debt, and not the kind I''d be willing to pay without years of work, am I correct?" "I knew I liked you for a reason. Now, since I''m already here, would you be interested in creating an account within our fine establishment? Security isn''t an issue, only 1836 successful heists, robberies, and security breaches in multiple millennia of operating across the globe should be more than reassuring." "I will admit, security isn''t exactly what held me back from going to the Black Bank so far, aside from being incredibly busy." "Ah, you are uncomfortable with the power we hold." "Yes, and your little demonstration didn''t help. Other banks are somewhat held back by laws, but you said yourself that it wasn''t a concern for you." "Well, in case you ever change your mind, whether it''s regarding an account or a loan, you know where to find us, and if you don''t, just ask anyone here. Now, if you''ll excuse me mister Silhouette, I have some unexpected goods to deal with." Blake bowed before turning around and simply walking away, the crowd parting once more to let him through. James looked at him go before his focus returned to the situation at hand. Runar''s men were gone, but they could return. Probably not to the shop, considering what have just happened, but if they sent more teams to the sewers, or even found out about his base in the Sunken City... I thought we were ready, but clearly not. We need more training. "Larry, Barry, Mark, Jeffrey, you all have done a wonderful work today. If I wasn''t worried about your safety I''d offer you the day off, but for now it would be best if you stayed inside. I''ll be with you shortly, I just need to gather the bodies first." "Aye, boss." Let''s just hope no one notice they aren''t exactly dead... Chapter 85: To get ready for a test Sarah was on the verge of banging her head on her desk. In the official Hero Union trainee white full-body suit, the short, lithe ginger girl watched in despair as the Legion teaching them got ready to press the remote it used to control its presentation and present another slide. Judging from the groans around her, she wasn''t the only one. She spared a look at her fellow trainees and took in the sight of the even smaller redhead Glicer Glitter looking in horror at their mechanical instructor, all of her usual joy sapped away, not far was Kopper Kid, his usually brown skin so pale it was disturbingly close to her own, Elaimant was emitting even more white noise than usual and their crystalline pyramid encased in a bubble kept on spinning, Sarah was pretty sure the various metallic knick-knacks they used to form a roughly humanoid body were even groaning. Scareowl, ever diligent and attentive, had to place the elbows of both his wings on his desk to keep his head up. Even Maledicta, despite arriving late and missing a third of the lesson, could barely keep her cool mean girl act, her brow was covered in sweat and she had to slap herself now and then to stay awake. The mindless mono-eyed robot in charge of their classroom completely ignored their distress, and Sarah knew it would show no mercy - during a quick talk with Mechaman, the genius had revealed to her Legions were programmed to recognize emotional states and medical situations, which meant they were perfectly aware of when students were overwhelmed by the many law lessons they had to go through, they just weren''t programmed to care. She had even directly asked a Legion, just to be sure, maybe the veteran Hero was just messing with her after all, but now, it had without a shred of hesitation confirmed they were completely aware of their students'' reactions to lessons and were actually keeping track of them for their profiles. The lanky robot pressed a button on its remote, and like an act of divine intervention, the projection of the presentation on the screen-board of the classroom shut off. "This lecture is now over. Please note, a test covering your entire Hero education will take place Monday, during your allotted afternoon education time. Every allotted education from henceforth and until the test will be free to let you study at your pace. Group study is encouraged. Failure to be present at the beginning of the test will result in a non-debatable 0, any note of 0 will have you expelled from the Hero trainee program. Education time after the test will constitute of repeats of previous lessons based on your results, with a second test after two weeks if your performance is deemed insufficient." Taking a test about everything you had learned after a little more than a month of being part of the program didn''t seem that much, but the Legions were ruthless teachers. Sarah wouldn''t be surprised to learn she knew more about law than an actual law student at the end of their first year, though she wouldn''t bet on it. She had learned her lesson on the field day at the fire station. Her uncle had even taken the time to drill proper fire-fighting protocols after he had known she had been outdone by a firefighter trainee. Kopper Kid raised his hand and the Legion nodded. "Uh, what if our results are good enough that we don''t need a second test?" "Your physical and power training will incorporate fighting against armed, unarmed, and Cored opponents, while your education will focus on the various threats you may encounter in Zalcien. After a month of this new regimen, you will take a new test to prove you are fit for deployment. Depending on your results, you may be sent on official Hero Union operations of low risk under the watch of a senior Hero." Glicer immediately jumped up from her chair. "You''re saying we''re gonna actually fight bad guys?!" "In two months, if your results are satisfying. Now please stop standing on the furniture." "Inquiry: Is it safe to send trainees to the field after merely three months of training? Observation: We do not appear to be combat-ready." "The division of Hero trainees'' education and preparation is the result of years of research and experience. Zalcien has been determined to be a safe enough city to allow for shorter training. Your concerns are noted." Scareowl raised a wing, and once more the one-eyed robot nodded to give a curious student the go-ahead. "Legion, may we study with the aid of a Legion?" "Legions may only be assigned to help Heroes after an official demand has been made to their local branch of the Hero Union, you are not Heroes yet. No Legion will be allocated to help you in your studies." "Oh! What about a Hero?!" "Miss Glitter, please do not stand on the furniture. If a Hero wishes to help your study during their personal time, they are fully allowed to do so. Miss Glitter, for the last time, please do not stand on the furniture." "Whoops, sorry!" "Please, do not stand on the furniture in the future. Are there any questions regarding today''s lessons? If not, this will mark the end of today''s allocated educational time." "Statement: Negative." "No, Legion." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "No question here!" "As if anyone would want to stay here any longer..." Sarah rolled her eyes at Maledicta''s needlessly mean answer before giving her simpler own. "No, it''s alright Legion." "Class is dismissed then. Be present on Monday in this classroom at 14:00, any lateness will see you fail the test and be expelled from the Hero trainee program. Please proceed to leave the room." They didn''t need to be asked twice. Knowing the various rules, laws, and protocols they had to follow was very important for sure, but sitting through hours of lecture on end with no pause... Sarah still wanted to be a Hero, but now she wondered if maybe the reason why her uncle had told her to take the time to think about it when she had brought it up the first time wasn''t out of worry for her safety but rather trauma out of the training itself. He wasn''t even one of the combat-focused Heroes, and those were the ones who were the most affected by the most laws. She wasn''t sure what she wanted to do, but if she chose to fight crime directly... She couldn''t imagine what sort of hell the Legions would make her go through. Once they were all out of the classroom, the little group arrived in the massive hallway filled with countless doors they had all come to know. In the distance, they could distinguish the doors of one of the elevators on each side, the massive columns of white marble that allowed transport between the various floors of the Union''s Headquarters. The hallways were cozy but still impersonal, with beige wallpaper, a unique slab of wood to make the entire floor, and an azure ceiling clearly meant to echo the false infinite sky of the Hall. The hallway was wide, larger than the average road, and long enough that it wouldn''t have been surprising to see people using vehicles to make the travel quicker. This was the first floor of the gargantuan skyscraper meant to host Heroes, hence why it wasn''t as crowded as the lower floors where the regular citizens working for the Union filled non-vital paperwork or as the upper floors where all of Zalcien''s Heroes hanged out and trained. This was the halfway point between the people and their guardians, a floor only visited by trainees, Legions, and the occasional Hero who dropped by to give a special class. That wasn''t to say this floor only had classrooms, no, there were also quite a few training rooms of various styles representing different situations and challenges, in multiple iterations each. Sarah and the rest had been in a few of them, and so far her favorite had to be the room where they had been trained to hit bad guys without hurting civilians with paper cutouts. The fact Maledicta had fumed because she always hit civilians and bombed her score may have played a part in this preference. Scareowl was the one with the best score in this training room, but Sarah wasn''t far behind in the silver medal, followed by Elaimant and Kopper Kid. Glicer had some trouble keeping her fire in check, but at least she saved a few civilians. Sometimes. Frankly, Scareowl and Elaimant were the only two other trainees in their group that Sarah would like to team up with permanently. They were both knowledgeable and efficient, and they were very good at what they did. Glicer was cute and Kopper was nice, but she had trouble controlling her powers while he didn''t have the stamina or drive to support his. As for Maledicta... No. "Firefly? You listening?" "Ah! Sorry Scareowl, I was lost in my thoughts. Could you repeat please?" The drow in the group rolled her eyes, and Sarah was on the verge of snapping back at her when the owl continued to speak. "I said, it''d be good to follow the Legion''s suggestion and study as a group. We could cover each other''s weaknesses while keeping our strengths sharp." "Quoting: Teamwork makes the dream work." Glicer jumped and threw glitter in the air. "Exactly! I''m all in! So, Firefly, in for a Glitter Study Party?" "Glicer, it''s only supposed to be for study, not glitter or party. Besides, it will occur over multiple days, how would you even keep a party going for so long?" "Relax, I''m just ruffling your feathers." "Please, do not ruffle my feathers." "Anyway, you''re in Firefly? And you, Kopper?" "You''re really nice guys, but usually I prefer to stud alone... Listening to some music, doing things at my pace..." Kopper seemed relieved to hear Sarah''s words. "Yeah, I''m with her on that one. I know group studies are a thing that works, they''re just not mine, you know?" Glicer lost all of her energy. "Oh. You sure? I''ll prepare snacks and everything." "If we''re meant to work together at some point in our careers, starting with something like this could make for some good practice, too." "Yeah! What Scareowl said!" "Observation: Studying together will be an opportunity for bonding, and might offer alternative ways to think. Statement: Ultimately, the choice is yours." Sarah winced. Those three were friendly, and Elaimant and Scareowl were her favorite classmates, but she genuinely preferred studying alone. As she said, doing it on her own let her do it her way. At the same time, they were right, this was the perfect excuse to bond... "... Alright, we have a week before the test, so let''s try every other day, alright?" "Yeah! We''re gonna have so much fun~" "AND STUDY. Don''t forget that part, Glicer." "Sure, sure." "Inquiry: Kopper, would you be willing to join us with the same condition?" "Ahhh... If all of the gang''s here, I wouldn''t want to stick out." "Yippie!" "Inquiry: What about you, Maledicta?" The air in the hallway went frigid at Elaimant''s words. Even the drow raised an eyebrow before she caught herself and rolled her eyes. "Why would I want to change out with you pitiful lot? I don''t need any of you. Besides, I''ve got my system." "Statement: Very well. Observation: You are late to every class, you should consider coming much earlier than usual if you do not want to be expelled." "That''s none of your business, pyramid." "No need to be mean, Maledicta." "Stay out of this, owl boy." "Hey! That ain''t nice!" "Shut up glitter girl, that goes for you too." That was it. Sarah had more enough of the drow''s attitude. "Why do you even bother coming to Hero training if you''re going to act like this? The Legions keep track of everything, they''ll probably kick you out no matter your grade on the test." "They can''t afford to kick me out, little bug. I''m the best thing that has happened to the Union in years." Sarah was about to retort when their Legion teacher popped its camera-like head out of the classroom. "Please, either exit the building or go to a communal area available. Do not stay in the hallway." "Or what, bucket head?" "A senior Hero will be summoned to escort you out." Maledicta groaned but left, not even bothering to say a final quip before she left the group behind. They always exchanged looks before going to one of the communal areas the Legion had mentioned, small rooms meant for trainees to stay together between lessons, or in their case, to study together. Their lessons for the day may have been over, but they all could afford some time to ready themselves for the first big challenge in their Hero careers. Proving they knew what they could, should, couldn''t, and must do. Chapter 86: Group study with an uncle Sarah and the others were sitting on white couches - Elaimant had their own due to their size, Kopper and Glicer shared, and Sarah and Scareowl had agreed they were more comfortable with each having their own rather than sharing - set up in one of the many communal areas made available to the Hero trainees by the Union. The room had a really nice and cozy atmosphere, with dark red wallpaper with thin grey stripes and small black lily patterns, with really nice wooden flooring. A large crystal chandelier hung down from the white ceiling, and illuminated the room - even in the middle of the day, it was the only light available since there were no windows. Windows were a liability after all, though they had all learned that supposedly there were rooms only accessible to trusted personnel that made use of the glass walls of the Headquarter tower. They had never seen those themselves, though, and messing around with newbies with that sort of story wouldn''t be far-fetched. It had been a good hour since they left Maledicta behind to her own thing, and everyone had had the time to cool down and go back on track to what truly mattered: revising for their test and getting a score high enough they''d be allowed to continue the training program. Even if menial work under the orders of a true Hero didn''t sound that incredible, it would still be the opportunity to meet their idols and maybe one day become their colleagues. They probably wouldn''t get to fight bad guys for a while, at least not organized goons working for true Villains, but that was fine with them. They were all young, but none of them was really interested in the fighting aspect of heroism, they were all here to help others. But if they wanted to help others with a budget and without fighting the long arm of the law like Vigilantes, they needed to succeed at this test. "Test: You are walking down the street, you spot a Villain, what do you do? Proposal: A, you confront them, B, you attack them by surprise, C, you contact the authorities, D, you contact the Union." "Ouh, that''s a nice one. Let me think... Think, think, think..." "You do know you don''t have to say ''think'' aloud, right?" "Shush Kopper, let me do my thing. Think... Think... Think... I know! I pop up and tell them to stop right there!" "Observation: Answer A for Glicer Glitter, noted. Inquiry: What about you, Kopper?" "Uh... I call the police? I mean, maybe once we''re fully fledged Heroes we can do more, but if tomorrow I was in that situation, yeah, I''d say call the police. What about you, Elaimant?" "They''re the one who asked the question, they probably know the answer already dummy." "Oof, sorry." "I''m messing with ya, silly." "Assessment: The revision book keeps questions and answers separate, therefore I do not know the correct answer, but I agree with Kopper''s assessment of the situation, calling proper law enforcers is a priority." "Oh, nice." "Continuation: But I do disagree with the authorities to call, if you identified a Villain you should contact the Union, not the police." "Oh." "Inquiry: What about you, Scareowl?" "Sneak attack, definitely. Villains are dangerous people, and you can''t afford to let them know you''re here before you strike. Take them out swiftly before they have a chance to react and most situations will be easier to manage, if not outright defused." "Assessment: Answer B, then, which only leaves Firefly." "Am I off duty or on duty? Is the Villain in civilian attire or are they in costume? Are they doing anything illegal or just something mundane like taking a coffee? If I''m not on duty, I have no authority to confront or attack them, and if they''re not doing anything illegal and if they aren''t in costume then the police have no reason to interfere, it could just be a lookalike after all. Interfering with Villains'' schemes is a Hero''s duty, but if you have no authority or good reason to act, warning the Union is often all you can do unless someone is in danger and then it is up to the Hero to decide if saving them is more important than calling back-up, and if they can assure their safety until they can leave the scene. Sacrificing yourself to save a civilian is pointless if a civilian still ends up surrounded by murderous monsters, this time without any Hero to save them." "Assessment: So, a little bit of everything, depending on the situation? Observation: This isn''t one of the available answers in the book." "Yeah! You can''t pick every answer! That''s cheating!" Kopper lightly shook his head as he watched Glicer Glitter standing on the couch and posing dramatically to point at Sarah before he put his hands on the very short girl''s shoulders and made her sit back down, meanwhile Scareowl rubbed at his chin - hidden by his fluffy feathers - with the wrist of his right wing. "I... I suppose that taking into account more details about the situation is important... Knowing whether the Villain you''re seeing is on vacation or actively up to no good has to be major information..." "But, uh..." All turned to look at Kopper. "I mean, we can''t know everything all of the time. Sure, whether either of you is wearing your suit is important, but you can never know what''s going on. Maybe they''re undercover, maybe another Hero is undercover, maybe they have someone hostage just out of view, maybe they genuinely are doing or just happen to look like a Villain and your interfering would create a mess. Maybe calling the police wasn''t the right move, but you should call the Union before doing anything." Sarah nodded. "Yeah, you have a point. So, Elaimant, what''s the-" It was at this point that the door - that the group had locked behind them, to ensure they wouldn''t have to deal with Maledicta or other trainees while they studied - opened, and they all rose in surprise as they saw one of Zalcien''s oldest still active Heroes enter the room, Firefighter. The tall svelte man in a red and blue bodysuit wearing yellow gauntlets, boots, chest piece, and helmet fused with a wielder''s mask wasn''t the most famous of Zalcien''s Heroes, and arguably one of the less well-known ones, but he was still a pillar of the local Hero community and most active members of the Union in the area highly valued his input. Of course, fame in a closed circle didn''t exactly translate to popularity or even common knowledge, as proven by the fact Kopper Kid had no idea who the man who just interrupted them was aside from the fact he had to be an official Hero to override their simple trainee authority to unlock the door. "Uh... Excuse me sir, but I think you might be in the wrong room?" Glicer was much less subtle when expressing her confusion. "Sooo... Anyone knows who''s that guy?" Scareowl was quite offended by what he saw as blatant disrespect towards a Hero, one that in fact he did know about. "Glicer!" This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "What?! I don''t know the guy, maybe he''s a Villain that snuck in!" "You shouldn''t assume people you don''t know are Villains! Besides, this is Firefighter." "Didn''t know firefighters were allowed in here. New uniform, too?" "Not A firefighter, just Firefighter. He''s a veteran Hero, one that has protected Zalcien from various threats for years!" "Really? Never heard about him." Firefighter cleared his throat, garnering the two trainees'' attention. "Young lady, being wary of unknown elements in the headquarters is a good reflex, but one that is quite detrimental if you do not know your colleagues. You are still learning about laws and protocols and haven''t begun the lessons about the history of the Union yet, so most people should be forgiving, but when the time comes do try your best to remember your fellow Heroes. "Yes sir!" "Young man, while I do appreciate you enlightening your friend, you should remember that sometimes ensuring discipline is more important than teaching. I don''t care much for petty politics and popularity contests, but keep in mind that in the future banter and bickering such as this is an opening some will take advantage of or be offended by." "Yes, mister Firefighter." "You can just call me Firefighter, it''s fine. No nicknames though." "Yes, Firefighter." "Inquiry: Firefighter, while we appreciate the presence of a bona fide Hero, why have you come here?" "Ah, I wanted to check in on your little group, and maybe help you prepare for your big test next week if you wish to." "You want to-" "Ah yes! Thanks!" "That''s awfully nice of you sir, but... Uh... Why? Not that we mind, it''s just... Why us?" "Well, today I''m on emergency duty only, which means I will have a lot of free time unless something pops up that other Heroes or emergency responders can''t handle on their own, and I thought I''d make use of that time checking on the latest trainees, it just so happens that I am particularly invested in the progress of one of you." Suddenly, Sarah was very annoyed at the fact the official trainee suit only included a domino mask to cover their faces, because she could really have used a whole helmet to hide her blush, and although Kopper, Glicer, and Scareowl were too focused on her dear uncle Doug to notice, she was pretty sure Elaimant had some sort of wider vision, though she couldn''t tell if they had noticed since they had no facial expression to speak off. "Oh really? Which one?" "Glicer, don''t ask that kind of thing!" "Why? He just dropped that on us and-" "Kopper, Glicer, drop the subject. Thank you for your assistance, sir. We were actually considering one of the example questions provided by our books when you arrived." "Oh? Which one?" "Test: You are walking down the street, you notice a Villain, what do you do? Proposal: A, you confront them, B, you attack them by surprise, C, you contact the authorities, D, you contact the Union." "Union, always. Even if it''s your off day, even if you''re on another mission, even if they''re up to something, call the Union. We have people and Legions manning the phones, don''t be afraid to call, even if it turns out it was a false alert or something the Union already knew about it''s better than missing a new nefarious scheme. Whoever will answer the phone will then tell you what you should do, and you should do as they say. Sometimes the Union has good reasons to let a Villain run along." "Observation: I was correct." "That ain''t an observation, Elaimant, that''s gloating!" "Affirmation: Incorrect, there is nothing worth gloating about when doing what is expected." "I''ve got my eyes on you, buddy." "Thank you for your advice, sir." "No problem. But instead of helping you figure out questions you can check the answers for yourselves, how about you each tell me what you have the most trouble with and I try and help you with that? Kopper Kid, was it? You go first." "Sure, uh... Let me think... What do I do if I can''t do anything?" "Your best. You can''t save everyone and everything, that''s a fact of life. Even big names like Miss Malice, Mecha Man, and Serpent can''t always win or fail to save a few when they do, and that''s okay. You''re doing your best, and you''re already going out of your way to saving more people than most will ever try to. If things get overwhelming, take a step back, warn your colleagues, and let them handle it. It''s better for you not to help at all rather than to be a ticking bomb that will freeze in the middle of a fight. Not that you should be ashamed of it, not everyone can handle highly stressful situations." "I... Uh... Thank you, sir." "Keep in mind the Union has health professionals if you ever need them. Next, Glicer Glitter." "Oh! I know! How do you handle destructive powers?" "Stay in control. I can create and manipulate large quantities of water, and one of the most important things to know is how much water a surface or building can handle before it collapses. On one of my first missions, I accidentally flooded a house because I tried to put out a fire, turns out the flooding caused more damage than the fire, which was perfectly contained and that the firefighters were handling well. Because I tried to apply too much force to a problem that didn''t it, I ruined everything. Luckily for me, it was just a house that had already been evacuated, but what if it had been a building full of civilians? Destructive powers have their place in the Union, just keep a tight leash on them, and remember that even inoffensive powers can be very dangerous in the right or wrong circumstances. And if you''re fighting someone with that sort of power, focus on countering them. It''s better to let Sunburn flee the scene than to lose a street or even a block and countless lives to flames." "Thanks!" "Scareowl, you''re up." "How do we handle lethality?" "A classic one, every Hero wonders about that at one point. You shouldn''t have to kill, especially when handling non-Cored people with no special bloodline. Having a Core grants a lot of physical benefits, even without a Body Aspect, and Cored people can take a lot more than others like them. Thugs and small-time thieves should be taken down with a few normal hits, and only true Villains should require what you would consider lethal force. Even then, as you are now, your deadliest attack would only annoy someone like Abrakaboom. Do your best to keep your opponents alive, but don''t be afraid to be harsh if you think they can take it. Once your opponent is out, that''s the end of it. Do not EVER kill someone that can no longer be a threat." "Thank you, sir." "Elaimant, it''s your turn." "Inquiry: How is a Hero supposed to handle situations which involve discrimination?" "First off, discrimination means establishing or recognizing a difference between different groups, it is a valid sentence to say you discriminate between chocolate and candies. Some old-timey people will use the term casually for this exact sort of situation, so don''t jump to conclusions. As for the sort of discrimination you were referring to, keep your cool. As annoying as some people might be, remember that you are a Hero whereas they are mere civilians. If the discriminating party is another Hero, authority worker, or even a member of the Union, bring it up to a Legion. Unwarranted discrimination is a crime, and you are an agent of justice and the legal system, so you can interfere, but only within the context of the law. As tempting as it may be, you can''t pummel a man stalking a woman if he surrenders without resistance, and if you have no proof the bartender is refusing to serve an elf because they are an elf there isn''t much you can do, aside from acting tough." "Affirmation: Understood, thank you, Firefighter." "Next on the list, Firefly. Tell me, what is it you have the most trouble with?" "I... Ah, how do you handle hostile civilians refusing your help?" "Ah, always a prickly subject. If a civilian refuses your help, then there isn''t much you can do. You must abide by the law, and if someone refuses to leave their home during a catastrophe, you can''t force them out. You can try to do something that could help, like forming a ice dome to keep them safe from an acid rain, but even then you risk a lawsuit. Our relationship with Zalcien''s court is good enough that you should be fine as long as you get some form of punishment from the Union, but don''t always count on it. Do note you can take advantage of the law to help against their will, if someone is bleeding out on the pavement the law will be on your side if you bring them to a hospital. In case a civilian tries to interfere or generally be a nuisance while you are on active duty, you are free to report them to the Union - interference with law enforcement may be a felony depending on circumstances." "Thank you, Firefighter." "And now... Isn''t there supposed to be another one of you? Maledicta, no?" "Yes sir, but she..." "She''s mean and didn''t want to hang out with us!" "Glicer.." "What, it''s true." "Glicer is right, Maledicta has a hostile attitude both with us and the Union staff." "I see. I''ll look into this later. Now that we''ve talked about your most obvious problem, let''s go over-" A beeping sound came from one of Firefighter''s gauntlets. "Ah, big fire in town. Sorry children, duty calls. I''ll look into coming by some other time. See you soon." The veteran Hero promptly left the room, not waiting for the trainees'' retort. They looked at him go before all looking at each other. "Alright, who wanna bet that the trainee he wanted to keep an eye on was Maledicta?" "Glicer..." "I mean, she''s the one that stands out the most, aside from Elaimant. Sorry buddy." "Affirmation: No offense taken, it is factually true that I am noticeable." "Rigth. Like, what if she''s an ex goon, or even an ex Villain. It would explain sooo much. And like, this is some sort of community service or she had to become a Hero not to go to jail! It makes so much sense!" As the trainees began to banter back and forth, Sarah held back a sigh of relief. She wasn''t ashamed of her uncle, far from it, but if the others knew she was supported by a veteran Hero... Being the girl who got in because she knew someone wasn''t great. Now she just had to wait for things to calm down and they''d get back to studying... Chapter 87 : Teacups Up on top of a building in the slums of Zalcien stood an open office, home to one of the many members of the cabal of criminal mages known as Wicked Witchcraft, though who distinguished himself from the rest via a great knowledge of runes and a close relationship with the strongest and most well-known member of the group, for this was Runar Arthen''s office. The elvish man was sitting at his desk, enjoying the comfort of a leather seat as he reviewed the progress of his rune business and planned for the future. Ever since the rest of the leadership of Wicked Witchcraft had banished him in all but name, he had been hard at work creating his own organization to continue his illegal trade and possibly officially recruit one of his oldest friends to finally put an end to the petty band of second-class spell casters who saw themselves as the future of magic in this miserable city. Runar might not have been a fighter capable of vast destruction like his friend, but he knew none came close to equalling him in runic matters this side of the country, and few could rival or even surpass him this side of the continent. No matter who their masters were or which fancy artifacts or lost knowledge they had found, this ridiculous group of imbeciles was nothing compared to him. The only reason he had been willing to stay in a city that wasn''t even worth featuring on the national news was his friend, and as his mental health quickly declined Runar had little doubt Abrakaboom wouldn''t last more than a few years at this point, even if the body survived. He sighed, thinking back to his early days learning magic in one of the most prestigious institutes of the country, of how he had met this weird human boy who always had stars in his eyes and explosions on his mind, though behind all of the friendly and occasionally destructive optimism he had realized after some time lurked a frightening intelligence and cunning. Abraken Dakerska may have preferred the life of a carefree idiot, but he was just as witty and capable as any competent noble from one of the old houses, if not more. Runar chuckled as he recalled the time his friend and roommate sneakily spent months exploding random items and places to test out the various magical resistances and protection spells spread all around to prepare a massive chain reaction of spells that created a magical firework that lit up the institute in the middle of the night and winded up impressing even the old archmage in charge of security, doubly so once he had realized the sheer degree of control and planning it took to ensure no student was harmed. Sadly for Abraken, the little prank hadn''t been appreciated and he had been kicked out of the institute. Despite his friend''s loyalty Runar too had to face some troubles once the Runemaster teaching there had noticed his helpful little additions to Abraken''s plot. Unlike his friend Runar wasn''t kicked out, simply invited to resign. Luckily for both of the young students, the old archmage in charge of security had a few friends looking for disciples and refused to waste obvious potential, no matter how mischievous. That the two friends in question were teachers at a non-declared school hadn''t been mentioned until the duo got there but in all honesty, having access to otherwise hidden and forbidden knowledge was worth the stigma and lack of an official diploma. The small smile that had begun to form on Runar''s lips faded away as his mind returned to the present and his friend''s current state. Although there were spells, techniques, and medicine to heal and preserve the mind, past a certain point not much could be done. Mortal minds simply weren''t meant to last longer than the maximum lifespan an individual could reach. Contrary to popular belief, the reason why undeath was a gray area of the law wasn''t only out of fearmongering and the usual mindless discrimination of everything other, but mostly out of the concern that statistically most undead winded up going crazy after a while, and these bouts of insanity usually ended up in deadly rampages. No, he couldn''t in good conscience ask for Abrak to become some kind of protector of his rune trade. His friend deserved to live the dusk of his life in peace - or, knowing him, surrounded by explosions. If Runar wished to get rid of the pressure of the Union and the rest of Wicked Witchcraft, he had to find another way, ideally something more discreet than big flashy explosions. Something like, oh, an intelligent shadow or darkness elemental. With some proper training and the right runes engraved on its core, it would become quite the efficient killer. Runar had never been one for flashy theatrics, he always preferred the efficiency and discretion of proper runes, and this new asset would fit wonderfully in this mindset. It was as these thoughts went through his mind and as he denied one of his managers'' request for a raise that he heard the telltale sound of shifting metal plates and heavy steps running up the stairs. Strange, it wasn''t quite time for tea yet. Soon enough the door to his office opened and the large knight walked onto the roof, the metal of his suit of armor shining somewhat in the sunlight. "Karadok, I wasn''t expecting you yet, especially empty-handed. Is there a problem?" "Sir, one of the mages that went with Pierce Evil''s hunting party is calling. She wishes to speak with you." "Pierce Evil''s what?" "One of our men on the Black Block noticed Silhouette - the entity Grover was sent after - and went to a local hideout and asked for support, Pierce Evil was already present and used the orb to report he was taking all combat personnel present and going after Silhouette." "And why wasn''t I informed of this, Karadok?" "You were busy attending to the rest of your business, sir. You have also told me countless times that you were ''a very busy man that cannot afford to be interrupted whenever someone has lost a pen'', to put it in your own words. Since the sighting was made by a singular low-ranking man, I wasn''t sure of its veracity and preferred not to bother you." Runar closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. "In the future, do inform me whenever one of my Runarian Knights acts, or whenever an important location is involved." "Yes, sir." "And you''re saying only that mage is calling? Not Pierce Evil?" "Only the one mage, sir." "Bring the crystal ball here. And some tea as well, I have a feeling I will need something to calm my nerves." "Yes, sir." Soon after Runar got to enjoy a delightful cup of tea, though sadly he missed the delectable taste and comforting warmth of the beverage since he was far too busy listening to the horrifying tale of how one of his best elements managed to fail his mission, lose most of the forces he brought, break one of the taboos of the Black Block, and antagonize one of the most powerful factions in the underworld of Terra Stellis, all in one single outing. Karadok had never seen his boss grimace that way, and he prayed to every single god he knew he would never be the one to cause such a face. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! It was as the mage finally finished her personal rant on the matter - one that Karadok was quite sure Runar would have interrupted in any other situation, but his employer was currently more preoccupied with staying sane than letting a minion run their mouth - that the main actor of this retelling called using the crystal ball of another hideout. The blond man that appeared as a magical copy in the magical glass kept a neutral face until the crystal ball on his side revealed the twisted visage of his lord, harboring an expression the likes of which he had never seen before on the elvish man. "My lord, I wish to report on... Are you alright?" "It depends Pierce Evil. Did you or did you not launch an assault on a shop on the Black Block?" "I did, my lord, I and the men I gathered went to that shop to capture the creature you are interested in, that Silhouette." "I see. How many men did you take with you?" "Thirty thugs, two squires, and five mages, my lord." "And how many did you bring back?" "Five thugs, two squires, and one mage, my lord. Many proved too cowardly to stay in the face of danger, and the rest was sadly caught off-guard by the creature and its men. They have access to some strange technology, a combination of shadow and electricity magic combined into one technological tool. Without it, victory would have been assured, and with fewer casualties." "By your wording, I assume you failed?" "We nearly succeeded, my lord. I was keeping the creature occupied and had the men accompanying me been quicker and more effective they could have helped me knock out Silhouette after taking care of the mere four men protecting it. Had we not been interrupted by that Black, we would have secured our target and I would have brought it to your office myself before the day''s end." "What, exactly, happened with Blake Black? The Blacks are not known for helping others in their time of need, so I am quite curious as to what you did to prompt him to leave his luxurious office and wander out into the slums among the common folk." "He claimed our operation disturbed the area and his potential profits, but I believe he wishes to recruit Silhouette himself. After that, he stole my armor and threatened fines for you, my lord." "Stole your armor, you say. The very expensive armor I engraved myself over a month of hard work. Could you tell me how exactly he pulled such a feat?" "He... I don''t know what it was, my lord, but it was magic. He removed the runes somehow and turned the armor into a cube, he left me the brass cube and kept everything else and threatened to take my rapier too if I stayed any longer." "You didn''t happen to harm him or damage any item in his possession, did you?" "He claimed I ruined his haircut, my lord." "That explains it. In the future, never again antagonize a Black. They know things even those vultures at Wicked Witchcraft would be too scared to approach. You''re lucky this one is young and unimportant, otherwise, I might have very well forgotten all about you, and this isn''t an allegory." "I''m sorry my lord but-" "I think you fail to understand the scope of your monumental failure, Pierre." "My lord?" "Failing to catch Silhouette is regrettable, for sure, but is a loss I can live with. Live and learn, as they say. I received an earlier report of your fight and what we learned about the creature''s abilities will help us shape future assaults." Runar picked up the teacup he had emptied earlier during the mage''s call, which she technically had yet to end as her crystal ball was still active on the side of his desk, though she preferred to stay silent and avoid both of the men''s potential wrath. Runar made a show of studying the cup before calling out to another silent observer of the scene, his trusted aide, Karadok. "Karadok, does this cup have any particular value?" "Uh... No, I don''t think so, sir. It is merely a teacup one of our mages applied multiple runes to - to increase its durability, control its temperature, detect and disable poisonous substances, and ensure it wouldn''t spill its content even if thrown into the air - as a test to see if they could graduate past mass-produced goods and instead go on to bigger and more personal projects." "In other words, this is a mere teacup, upgraded by the power of runes to be something beyond it could have ever hoped to be, a teacup fit for a lord, for a king." "Yes...?" The cup shattered in Runar''s grasp, porcelain pieces flying in all directions, some harmlessly bouncing off his yellow three-piece suit and blue tie. "Pierre, you are nothing without my runes. Losing your armor made you useless for a month, at the very least. Not only that, but you angered the Black Bank, and if they are petty enough they will analyze the materials required to make your armor and we will suddenly find ourselves unable to buy them, if not because of increased prices then because of the fines that surely come our way. Considering your blatant mismanagement of your team and your conduct, it might as well be more efficient for me to replace you. Give me one good reason not to shatter this cup." "You say I am worthless without your runes, yet even you admitted I was the best fighter among the knights. You may not need me, but training a newcomer to my level will take more than a month. Meanwhile I, as soon as I received a new suit of armor, will be fit to act and ready to bring you back Silhouette." Runar narrowed his eyes. "You are not the best fighter, only the best duelist, Pierre." The mage and Karadok both took in a deep breath. "But, I will grant your point. Replacing you would be more of a headache than simply disciplining you. Very well. You will come join us here, and you will assist Karadok with his daily duties until your new armor is ready." "Thank you, my lord." "And Pierre? I will not be so forgiving a second time." With a flick of Runar''s wrist, the face in the crystal ball disappeared, and as he got ready to order something he was interrupted by the mage who had initially called him. "That''s it?! The guy wasted at least a dozen lives of loyal subordinates and you''re letting him go like that?!" "I manage my organization however I wish to, young lady. I do not care for your feelings." "..." "Pierce Evil will be back on the field as soon as his armor is ready, whether you like it or not. Are we clear?" "...Yes, sir." This time Runar didn''t have to do anything, for the mage closed the call on her end. The elvish man didn''t even react at the action, and instead pressed a piece of the teacup he had kept on a spot on his desk, suddenly revealing a glowing green rune that attracted all of the pieces of the cup spread around and fixed it, leaving behind perfectly flawless porcelain. "If I may sir, I do believe she''s going to leave." "She''s free to quit. If she knows what''s good for her, she won''t try anything stupid. But, Karadok, do take the time to look for potential replacements for Pierce Evil within our ranks. Ideally someone familiar with taking down single targets, but I won''t be picky." "Didn''t you just say that replacing him wouldn''t be worth it?" "Oh, it isn''t, but since that imbecile was stupid enough to anger a Black, one familiar with the Fair Folk''s magic, I do not think he will last. Hopefully, he will prove competent enough to at least achieve a few objectives before they get tired of letting him exist." "I... Very well, sir. Should I cancel our following plans to capture Silhouette? If Blake Black truly has taken an interest in the creature, it might be for the best to give up." "Wait for the Black Bank''s letter delivering our fines. They may have taken an interest, but if we''re in luck not enough to break their neutrality. As long as they do not officially refer to Silhouette as one of their assets, employees, or prot¨¦g¨¦s, then we''re free to act." As Runar pondered the situation, he idly noted that Abrak''s wish for a more interesting creature might be granted. For a Black to take interest in such a thing... What did they know that Runar didn''t? Chapter 88 : The Black Bank Zalcien was, in the grand scope of things, a forgettable place. A city large enough to be considered one of the core members of the Alliance of City-States, but far too small to be of any importance. It had its vote when it came to the presidency, but some of the otherwise smaller cities and villages that did not were more famous and richer, to the point that in the past few years, many would have debated over Zalcien''s right to keep its position as one of the fifty city-states had it not been for the fact that nobody cared about Zalcien. It didn''t help that Zalcien''s greatest achievements in the national mind were the fact the city had to be completely replaced over 150 years ago after a terrible Super battle and that it had been almost overrun by a monstrous flesh monster that was barely stopped only a few decades after that, leaving unsalvageable areas behind filled with monsters and whose former inhabitants had been left behind, deemed too compromised to be worth helping. It went without saying the mayor of the time wasn''t reelected, and that the problem was too costly and controversial for following mayors to bother even thinking about. Leaving the slums and their inhabitants to themselves with a secured barrier constantly guarded to keep an eye on them was cheaper than going through a massive purge that only spared the innocent, innocent which then would have to be relocated while the purge and the following reconstruction work went on, innocent which would need to be educated to be able to find work in the civilized world... No, it was better and easier to let things be as they were. Of course, just because the slums were meant to be quarantined didn''t mean there was no travel between the two parts of the city, quite the contrary. Most villainous groups large enough to have multiple hideouts had at least one in the slums somewhere to go hide in if things turned sour, some monsters occasionally found their way past the barricade, and you always had the odd screwball who had a secret lab they needed to be hidden from the law or a place to source... Questionable materials. The Patcher''s greatest creations weren''t made with corpses left in the slums. There was within the slums a place, located deep enough to avoid the disapproving gaze of the Union but still close enough to the rest of the city that anyone would be willing to go there without fear of the things that hid in the dark. In fact, you could see this strange building from the streets of the proper Zalcien over the walls and fences of the Black Border, and from within the building, you could look down at the people living actual lives in the clean streets of what felt like another world. This building, of course, was the Black Bank - more specifically, Zalcien''s branch of it. The building was brutishly simple and yet mesmerizingly complex. From afar it simply looked like a five stories-high black cube, a perfectly smooth one at that, but a closer look revealed so much more, you only needed a good eye or to run your hand or equivalent appendage over its surface to discover how intricate it was. What appeared at first glance to be smooth black marble was in truth a single block of a strange cold black material, not quite stone but not metal either, and it was covered in countless engravings with a light coat of golden paint applied. Runes from innumerable countries and magical systems, curses and blessings from various gods, prophecies of fortune and demise, eldritch words and written Truth... Whenever someone familiar with magical languages approached it, it wasn''t uncommon for them to only look at the ground to avoid the sight of this magical abomination that went against logic and common sense, as well as to avoid the headaches and soul wounds the view of such a powerful structure covered in unimaginable enchantments could cause. The Black Bank was one of those things that only the mundane folk could appreciate without suffering from an existential crisis. It had no hole, no door to enter, one simply had to walk through the black material while thinking of entering the building to find themselves in a much more bearable yet incredibly luxurious reception, walls of pristine white marble, an illusion of the infinity of the cosmos replacing the ceiling with a crystal luster illuminating the room from the chain of diamonds it hanged from, tiles of gold on the floor covered by a carpet made from a skinned Long dragon - famous for their length and wingless flight - which led to a giant desk made of pearl plates and unicorn horns decorations and legs. Standing behind the desk was a rare sight, a true celestial. The humanoid entity had a body like porcelain, it was tall and thin with elongated limbs, and the average human''s head would only reach its midriff. With its arms at rest, its hands reached its knees, it wore a toga made of golden threads with a large hole in the back to let through its pair of large feathered wings, each as tall as it was, made of silver feathers closer to jewelry than organic matter. Above its smooth and featureless face rested a floating ring of flowing mercury gently spinning on itself, a light glow resembling letters occasionally appearing every now and then. The celestial was absent-mindedly rubbing its nailless fingers together when a black-haired human man in a three-piece suit entered the room, materializing from the wall, and the tall figure''s eyeless gaze fell onto him. "Master Blake, you have finally returned. I hope your little outing was entertaining." The man chuckled as he lightly shook his head. "Come on now Nanyet, I called after each transaction. You know exactly how everything went." "Perhaps, but I know you love the sound of your voice, master Blake. I wouldn''t deprive you of the chance of talking about your adventure." The man chuckled once more, a small light sparkling in his eyes and their oddly pitch-black irises. "Careful there, Nanyet. If I didn''t know any better I''d say this was sarcasm." The celestial gracefully placed one of its hands over the spot where a mouth should have been. "Pardon me, master. The intricacies of the mortal plane are confusing for one such as I." "Don''t worry, I understand. It''s only been what, twenty years now?" "Eighteen years, five months, four days, eleven hours, fifty minutes, and two seconds now, master." "My, how time flies. Did anything noteworthy but not worth calling me occurred while I was gone?" "No, nothing aside from the predicted lowered influx of clients, our planned loan discussions for the day which I have already taken care of, and the sending of the letter informing mister Runar of the sanctions you deemed fair." "No visit from our mystery VIP yet?" "No, mister Silhouette has not visited the bank between your encounter with him and your return now. If I may, it has only been-" "Spare me the exact count, please, Nanyet." "-it has only been a few hours since your offer. Taking into account his previous reluctance and your display of strength, I do believe it will at least take a few days for him to grow comfortable enough to come to us." "Aaah, you''re right, you''re right. Still, one can hope." "Hope is meaningless, master Blake. Fate is shaped by actions and the randomness of chance, without the appropriate powers, dreams and will cannot influence those events." "You know, sometimes I feel like you should be the Black here. Oh, you must-" "I have already scheduled an appointment with your hairdresser to ''fix'' your ruined haircut, master. I did so as soon as you reported it had been damaged." Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "Right, thank you Nanyet. Well, if there''s nothing urgent for me to do I will return to my managerial duties." "Do you refer to doing nothing productive and calling it supervising, taking credit for my work, or doing actual managerial work by interacting with myself and the other employees to best know what they need to be more efficient and to help solve problems while otherwise letting us be mostly autonomous?" "Nanyet." "Oh, did it sound like sarcasm again? My apologies, master." "You know, there''s a reason why I don''t allow you to speak without authorization when the family''s around." "Oh, what interesting timing." "What?" "Your aunt is currently calling in your office, master. Office which holds the teleporter to which your suit is linked and that you could have used to come back without needing to enter through the main door and interacting with this instance of myself." "I''d love to talk some more, but if she''s calling I better get to it. Thank you for the hard work, Nanyet." The celestial nodded as a beam of light descended from the cosmos above and engulfed Blake Black, disappearing after a few seconds and leaving no trace of the human behind. In another room of the Black Bank, the same beam of light reappeared, and from it exited the man. As the light dissipated once more he simply walked on the platinum planks that made the floorboard and ignored the various furniture made of amber, geodes, and gems, instead directly approaching the sole wall of the room that wasn''t made of solid gold and covered in paintings, instead, it was a smooth and spotless dark reflective surface, bar for one spot where a round green light gently pulsed every second. As soon as he was within reach, Blake taped the green light with his finger, and the entire reflective wall was replaced by a flat view of a dark room lit by countless candles hazardously placed on the ground and wooden tables nearby, strange circles and pentagrams of various sizes drawn with a suspicious red substance on many places on what could be seen of the walls and floor, all made of stone bricks. In the center of this sight, right in front of Blake, stood an elegant woman. Her pale skin and slightly pointed ears would have hinted at a person of elven descent, but her ruby eyes and the elongated canines poking out of her black lips betrayed the illusion and revealed the vampiric truth. The mature woman was slightly taller than Blake, her ebony hair was styled in large braids, and she wore what could only be described as a crimson victorian dress fit for a noble lady. Her smile would have been beautiful and fit for a court had it not been slightly too smug to be proper. "Blake, dearest, it is always a pleasure to see you." The man had his usual business smile ready before the call had even begun, for dealing with a Black without being prepared was foolish. "Aunty, it has been some time. I hope all is well on your side?" "Oh, same old, same old. Some of the local peasants are starting to think about revolting and storming our lovely estate, could you imagine?" "You know I have no reason to get involved so long as they don''t get the Bank involved, aunty." "Of course, of course, Blake. It is not as though I need your help in this matter, though my estate is my property alone I have still the talents and wits any proper Black Bank manager requires. Speaking of, how goes your career in that small town? It was somewhere in that Alliance of City-States, was it not?" "Yes, aunty, and it is Zalcien, one of the fifty voting cities. As for my career, all is going well." "Oh? A little bat told me you had some trouble not so long ago. Something about an unruly customer, and that you had to interfere yourself? If that little celestial of yours isn''t right for this work, I could always lend you one of my thralls, or perhaps even one of your cousins if you''re willing. They could always use some experience before their turn to uphold the family legacy comes." "Do not worry for me, aunty. The minor event you are speaking of has already been taken care of, and the reason I decided to involve myself isn''t related to any danger or threat the dissident posed." "Oh? You have piqued my interest, Blake." "If you have been paying attention during our calls, you may remember the local company Xenocorp that I mentioned now and then." "It does ring a bell, dearest." "You may also remember that they are working on several secret projects that go against ethics and morals, projects which they plan to implement themselves and or sell to their dear investors?" "I think one of your cousins did mention something about a biological weapon that could revolutionize necromancy being worked on in Zalcien during one of our receptions, now that I think about it." "Project Thanatos, yes. It isn''t my favorite, I believe it is too unstable and likely to go out of control, but it isn''t what I wish to talk about. No, the project at play here is a miracle even the great Noir Black would look upon in wonder." "Come on, Blake, do not get overconfident. I doubt Zalcien has anything that might interest him." "Project Null. A plan to create the perfect assassin and spy, a creature holding all known Aspects and powers from every noteworthy bloodline. An Omni-Aspected entity that would be loyal to its master and no one else." "Oooh, Blake, dearest, there are plans for projects such as this one every year, and they all, always, fail. In fact, now that you speak of it, I do remember you mentioning that this very project failed from what the CEO of Xenocorp told you, correct?" "Indeed, he did tell the board of investors the only stable prototype which had managed to live more than a week had supposedly used all of its resources and life energy to escape and died and disintegrated not long after. We were all quite annoyed at this result, but I am doubly so now that I know that he lied to us." "Because there never was a successful prototype?" "Because the prototype is alive." For the first time since their discussion began, the vampire looked surprised and, if one looked deeply into her eyes, awed. "How can you be so certain, dearest?" "Because I saw it myself. The man I punished was trying to capture it, though I doubt he was aware of the actual value of what he was going against. It is a miracle, aunty. I saw it myself, all nine Aspects working in harmony, not simply coexisting by staying in different parts of the body or constantly fighting for dominance, but truly working together and supporting one another''s efforts, even passively. The creature itself seems unaware of how to truly use this potential, from what I saw it mostly relied on Will, Body, and Soul when fighting, though it did use Transformation to permanently disable opponents and prepare items. It even opened a shop, aunty, to sell its Transformed items, improved by its numerous magical signatures and Creation and Destruction working together to improve and rebuild materials." On the other end of the screen, the vampire''s fingers lightly shook. "Is this some sort of trick, Blake?" "Aunty, you know the rules I have to follow due to my powers. Fae laws won''t allow me to lie." "Why speak of it to me, Blake? Why tempt me with such a valuable prize? Did you perhaps already capture it? Are trying to sell it to me? How much? I''ll give you anything, no, everything." "No, I did not capture it or claim ownership of it, aunty. It appears it developed a soul at some point in its development, a sapient soul. Fae laws forbid me from owning a sapient creature without it or its legal owner or tutor''s approval, and due to the circumstances, I cannot simply buy it from Xenocorp since its escape cut off the ties it had to them. Even if I did buy it, I noticed a blessing in its soul. Something faint and discreet, hidden from most and the creature itself, but it is still there and its nature dictates Project Null already belongs to this god." "We could still buy it, Blake, even if it means involving more members of the family. This is too valuable to give up. Give me a name." "I doubt even our beloved Noir Black can convince this god to sell, no matter the things he offers." "The name, child." "Malamia." "Are you sure?" "They may be one of the gods that interfere the least with mortal affairs, but they are still one of the oldest known gods. Confusing them with anything else is out of the question." "Then why tell me any of this? You know I''m not held back by your laws. Is that your plan? Do you want me to turn that thing into my thrall? I will come right away." "No, I see a spark of potential in that soul. I believe it may be more beneficial for us to let that creature be for now, and reap the boons of its long-term growth as partners rather than master and slave. No, what I want is for you to put a leash on my dearest cousin. Once she finds out about its existence, I have no doubt chaos will ensue." "Which- Ah, that one. But why should I help you when I could just go to your little Zalcien and search the city myself? I already have a few bats there, it won''t take long for me to find that Project Null you speak of." "Why, aunty, did you forget the fae laws of fair exchange? All of the information I just gave you is priceless as you said yourself, and now you have a debt to me." The look of sheer horror on her face almost made him laugh. "No. No. No no no no no-" "In exchange for telling you about Silhouette, you will help me keep its existence secret, won''t try to interfere in its life and plans, and will prevent any of your children in Zalcien from hunting, capturing, hurting, or killing it." The facade of a beautiful woman fell as the vampire''s flesh and bones twisted in her wrath to reveal a ghoulish creature of death and suffering screeching in rage. "I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS BLAKE!" The man simply swiped his finger on the magical mirror-screen hybrid and let the screams of the vampire fade into nothing as the sight of the dark bloody room was replaced by a black reflective surface once more, pleased with himself. "I can''t wait to see what the future has in store for us, Silhouette." Chapter 89 : Back in the sewers James took a deep breath - or rather, mimicked the action since he had no lung or respiratory tract - and focused on the target in front of him. He was back in the sewers lair, three days after Pierce Evil''s attack. After that Blake Black had left members of Mischief finally arrived, James had them discreetly guard the shop while Larry, Barry, Jeffrey, and Mark got to enjoy a nice day off. Although Soluble''s former goons were initially supposed to act as the brothers'' bodyguards, recent events had shown they needed more than that to keep things safe from more dangerous things than desperate thugs. After having the brothers and their guardians drop the injured kid at Doctor Drake''s office, James quickly sent word to Techlord for more heavy weaponry and to speed things up for the shield research, but he knew he also had to be better prepared himself. For all his talk of training for more significant threats than simple animals with the ratlings, he hadn''t been ready for someone to drop in out of nowhere. James had spent the days after the encounter training with the ratlings in basically all he could do. He needed more tentacles, bigger ones, but also needed to be quicker and more precise. As Pierce Evil had shown, a horde of shadowy limbs wasn''t worth much if the opponent could just evade them or take them out one by one quicker than James could regenerate. He also needed to improve his magic and find a way to counter or block weapons that could harm him, if that rapier had been as ineffective against him as a mundane knife was then he would have been much more brazen in his fighting. As of now, James was training his magic alone while the ratlings slept. He had continued reading the magic guide and learned a few more spells, but right now he was trying to do something else. In his Silhouette form, James formed a tentacle that he threw back before launching it forward at a circle drawn with chalk on the wall of black bricks, the appendage separated from his body and turned into a black blade that flew through the air, leaving behind it a trail of black smoke before it hit the wall and pierced it, the blade embedded by half its length in the black stone. James wasn''t done, however, and with a flex of his mind, the blade exploded into a mass of wriggling slime that wildly struck at anything and everything nearby, which in the empty section of the training room meant it was grasping at nothing. Another flew and the mad slime turned into an urchin, every tendril it had formed instantly hardening and straightening before the tip curled to ensure anything pierced by the main body couldn''t just slide off. James could tell the urchin was solid, probably not strong enough to break a bone but more than enough for simple flesh and organs. This gruesome technique would probably be reserved for feral creatures or people with high regeneration, there was no need for that sort of thing for regular people when a single tentacle was more than enough. He still needed to figure something out for armored foes. James took in another deep breath as the urchin melted and rejoined with him, and this time tried something else. James spread his shadow over the floor and dissolved, disappearing in the ambient darkness as it reached the walls and ceiling of the room before a dark blade burst forth and flew through the air at an incredible speed before it collided with the spreading shadows and disappeared in it before promptly emerging and flying through the air from another wall, using the momentum to go faster and faster each trip between two spots of darkness to the point even James himself had troubles following its trajectory, which was exactly why he used this technique - to learn how to control it enough to be viable in a fight. Discovering this little trick had taken a very painful session of resistance training, and it was by complete accident that after having his "head" crushed like a watermelon he had instinctively popped it back out from his back. It hadn''t taken long for him to have the idea to combine his ability to "become" a room with this new trick to create the bullet hell of a single blade he had devised. He was very thankful he had no stomach to empty after his first attempt, the blade was still a part of his body after all, and although it didn''t have as much of "him" as his greater part did at the speeds it reached the vertigo was very impactful. After half an hour spent getting used to the even greater speeds of this training session, James added a new attack to the whole mess - using the blade to cast spells. Surprisingly, learning the magical equivalent of knife throwing had been pretty easy. James had expected the increased focus of forming a solid object with sharpness rather than bluntness in mind would be a challenge, but in retrospect, he hadn''t had much trouble with his "spikes" and "shadow ball" spells, so why would a "throw spike" spell be that much harder? The only difficulty had been aiming it, and even then with his odd body and his experience with shadow balls, it hadn''t taken too long to get used to it. It hadn''t been the only spell James had learned, far from it. He had a new fancy basic shield, a wall of shadowy energy he could manifest relatively quickly - he could have better results by solidifying his own body, but a little something extra to take the brunt of damage or to use at a distance was always welcome. He also could make a cloud of black smoke, and though it didn''t seem that useful outside of blinding his opponents James had a few ideas related to the abilities of his body and how to fool people. There was one last thing James had begun to train, although he wasn''t quite sure it would work yet. There was definitely something happening whenever he tried, he could feel it, but so far all he had to rely on were his intuition, his experience with his soul space and meditation, and his link to infused items. James focused on himself and the various connections surrounding him and let himself go, slowly melting down to the ground like wax as minutes passed. Breathe in, breathe out. Down in the Sunken City, in the orphanage, a small black growth, barely the size of a coin, emerged from one of the dark stones in the basement. "Boss!" James broke out of his trance and awoke back in the training room and came face to face with Larry and Barry, clad in their new black and white matching suits. Where one had a black tie the other had a white one, and this pattern continued for the whole outfit. The tall lanky man and his shorter and broader sibling stood next to each other, their expressions hard to read. They didn''t seem panicked, and if anything they were looking fine, but there was still some worry visible in their eyes. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Barry, Larry. To what do I owe the pleasure? I hope Runar''s men haven''t been a problem?" "Nah, nothing to worry about boss. There''s usually one hanging around but they know better than to test their luck. Nah, we''re here about the kid, boss." "Doctor Drake came by, she said she was worried about them. She wanted Guy to come to see them, but since he hasn''t been around for a while..." "Thank you for warning me. I''ll tell him to come back up, as enthused as he is about the Sunken City he still has his duties on the surface. And are you certain all is well since the attack?" "Boss, we''re okay. We ain''t kids." "Barry, no need to be rude. But yes, everything is okay. We might need a new batch of products soon, our stocks are getting a little low." "No questions about me?" "Oh, tons. But we tell them what you told us to." "That if they''re asking questions, they''re looking suspicious. And if they''re suspicious, you''ll drop by to pay a visit. Helps a lot that Runar''s thugs that chose to leave are telling everyone you ain''t worth angering. Thieves are too afraid of our guns to try anything now, too, that''s nice." "I do not think I share your enthusiasm there. We have dealt a great blow to Runar''s pride, and I doubt he will lay low for long. The added workforce and Mischief are already working on improving defenses in the sewers, and the Shadow Commando is doing its best down below too. Have you looked around for surveillance and defense systems like I asked you?" "Yes, boss. We asked Guy''s guys, too. Nothing as good as the kid''s work or what you can do so far. Turns out that when people have a trick to keep other people out, they keep it to themselves. The only thing of note would be contacting a big gang, but..." "After what happened with Runar, they''re being careful. Runar''s guys are not the only ones staying around the shop all day." "I might have to find an assistant for Techlord... Is there anything else of note you two have to report?" "Some folks talk about rumors of the Patcher doing something, and that''s never good." "There are also a few people who dropped by the shop and said they were looking for work. We told them we''d pass the word." Hiring more people? There are probably a bunch of spies in the lot, and even without that, I don''t think I''m comfortable having more people come down here or to the orphanage... Well, I did hire the Shadow Commando right after they tried to capture me... But they were surrendering... Could I make a new base in the slums to throw off Runar? He already knows about the sewers, but since things have been quiet I don''t think he knows where or what to look for. "Larry, Barry, what do you think of those that came looking for work?" "Mostly desperate guys and gals looking for hope, too bad at anything of worth to be valuable to groups or gangs." "And spies!" "And spies." "Do you think you could make a screening to only recruit the destitute?" "Uh... Maybe? A spy or two might slip in though." "Don''t worry Barry, I''m good with people." "If anything, I want there to be a single spy among them. Not the best one, else they influence the legitimate recruits, but good enough that it wouldn''t be strange to be fooled." "Uh... Why, boss?" "Oh! That''s the part where he explains the plan!" "We''re going to make a new base, a hideout on the surface, in the slums. Some kind of hangar or warehouse, perhaps. All that matters is to fool everyone into thinking this new place is where we produce and stock our goods before they reach your shop, that way no one will look into how you always have products to sell or look for secret tunnels. We''ll have proper shipments from this new site, guarded by trusted employees." "Uh... Again, why, boss? And how do you plan to hide it from the newbies? Won''t they have to be in the new place to do all the work? They''ll notice something fishy is going on." "Shush Barry, let him speak." "We''re giving our competition and Runar a new target, one that we will prepare exclusively for defense and storage so that even if it is lost we won''t lose anything of value. I''ll talk with Techlord to see how much we can do with it. As for the how... Well, I trust you both, but I think this is a case where it is best to keep you in the dark. Just hire people as you wish, Techlord and I will handle the rest." "What about the money, boss?" "What would you say?" "If you just want people to do stuff without any value, maybe 10 Xerins a day? That''s what most gangs pay their crate-movers." "Offer them 15 Xerins." "Sure thing. We''ll leave you to it, then, boss?" "Yes, yes. You''re free to leave. Good work, both of you." "Thanks, boss." "Thanks!" After watching them leave, James went to his pile of belongings in the corner of the room and retrieved them before going to Techlord''s workshop, the large room he had initially dug and prepared for the genius teen had grown a lot to house the various components and equipment the tinkerer needed to keep on chucking out inventions. As he approached the door, James was very thankful the black bricks of the walls and the dark planks of the door acted as noise dampeners for this room, for even now in the dead of night the teen was at work. James turned into a shadow and slid in before reforming behind Techlord who was just finishing screwing shut a plate on a small circular metallic object with a black glassy bump in the center. James faked a cough, and Techlord immediately turned around and pointed his right arm at James, a small barrel ending in a crystalline spike emerging from the gauntlet he was wearing and already creating sparks before the owner of said arm realized who had just surprised him in his work and put his weapon down. "Boss? Right on time, I finally finalized the portable shield design. Its charge is pretty limited and it can only take one or two bullets before collapsing, but it should be enough for the shop. I already have a few ideas on how to improve the design for ourselves, but first I have those dozens of other tasks you dropped on me." "You won''t be happy then, Techlord." "Oh come on! I''m only one guy!" "Yes, which is why with your approval I think I''ll start looking for an assistant for you soon. In the meantime, I have a few new projects in the works. Tell me, how well-versed are you in explosives?" "Uh... I can make a bomb? I mean, I made the Techzooka, and you saw what it did." "What about something on a... Larger scale?" Techlord squinted his eyes behind the black glass of his mask. "You''re not planning on blowing up Runar''s place, are you? I don''t much about magic but I''m pretty sure that won''t work." "No, no. As tempting as it may be, we need to be sure of ourselves before such a tactic, and as you said yourself, we don''t have the resources to outmatch his defenses, yet. No, I have something quite different in mind..." Chapter 90 : Getting a warehouse James was very tempted to rub his chin with a tentacle, but staying stoic was probably better for his reputation. "And you say this warehouse has only recently come into your possession?" The sleazy salesman who had brought them here made one of the fakest smiles James had ever seen. "Why yes! Why, my poor uncle died of a tragic Sickler attack, and I wound up inheriting this magnificent building. Does it not fit each of your wishes?" James hummed as he appreciated the irony of the situation. After arranging things with Techlord and calling Guy, James had returned to the block as the day began as himself rather than Silhouette and had asked around to see if anyone knew of an abandoned warehouse or hangar or maybe one of either for sale. The peddlers of the Block had been surprisingly friendly, and it''s only after a few interactions that James realized they probably - correctly - assumed he was related to Silhouette in one way or another, and after his little display the other day they didn''t want to make a new enemy. Many were annoyed by the new competition his shop presented, but at the same time were very eager to try and sell their wares to him in hopes his "boss" would notice them and take them under his wing. There were also those that sold foods or cosmetic trinkets that fought to install their stalls next to his shop, hoping to attract his customers for a quick gift or snack. A few hours of talking with strangers later and James had accepted a meeting with the worst caricature of a salesman he had ever seen on behalf of Silhouette. The man reminded him immensely of Barry, with his short yet broad stature, but whereas Barry looked healthy and even somewhat toned the man before him''s width was born of fat rather than bones. He had a thick mustache and oiled-back short hair, all of which was black, and wore a red vest and dark blue pants. His otherwise fair skin was incredibly red around his nose and cheeks, but for once James was inclined to believe this wasn''t from some inhuman genes but something much simpler. The warehouse itself was nothing remarkable for either better or worse, it was decrepit and James seriously doubted the roof wouldn''t collapse in a few years, but it had all its walls and for now, it looked stable enough to be usable. A good night spend infusing stuff with the help of Solvent and a few upgrades and modifications from Techlord should be more than enough to solve all of the problems related to the stability and durability of the building. It did stand out from other buildings in one way obvious to the eye, though. It was covered in countless graffiti, hundreds of names and symbols covering one another in an admittedly breathtaking way, as though this was the collective memory of the slums. Four of those stood out from the rest, ones that had apparently been left alone and unaltered: a crowned feminine figure on a throne of cogs and gears, a yellow flower surrounded by green vines with red thorns and a swarm of blue bees, a white four-pronged star surrounded by crescent moons with a small colorful sphere in the hollowness of each one, and finally the simplest design, a simple word in blood red capital letters, Natrashka. "It has quite the interesting look, I must say." "Oh, yes! My dearest uncle got it from his father, who got it from his aunt, who got it from her cousin, who won it in a game of cards. Throughout the years, it has been a family tradition to let the local artists express themselves to give it some charm. Why, some of those date back from before the days of the Empress and the rest!" "It is certainly unique." "Oh yes, quite unique! You won''t see any other warehouse like this one, believe me!" "Which is quite interesting, since as far as I know the Blood Angels still occupied the property not so long ago. Was your uncle one of them, perhaps?" The salesman gulped, and James almost felt sorry for him. How could he have known he would be trying to sell this Angels'' warehouse to someone who had already raided it once? For indeed, this warehouse was the very one James and the ratlings had broken into to steal money and weapons not so long ago, despite it feeling like ages. The ratlings didn''t even know how to talk back then. "Well, why, yes! Yes! He was an Angel, though a simple lieutenant, and he chose to lend his warehouse to the gang to store... To store..." "Their vehicles?" "Yes! Their cars! They didn''t see much use this side of the city, of course, but whenever they needed to teach someone a lesson they''d hop in and vroom! They would go knock some sense into brutish thugs! Why, they even had a helicopter parked here every now and then! Just ask around, one passed by a few months ago." "How intriguing, mister... Froko, was it?" "Yes indeed! It''s from my great-grandfather''s side of the family, he had a few amphibian powers without any apparent mutation!" "Well, mister Froko, the problem I have here is this warehouse wasn''t used to store vehicles, but Red Dust and the money from its sales. So, I assume you''re lying to me, and here comes the great question: are you trying to trick me into buying a property currently used by the Blood Angels, or are you just trying to make a quick buck selling an abandoned place to what you think is an unsuspecting fool?" "Why, mister Silhouette, how could you think such a thing! I assure you, I-" "Let me cut to the point, here." James illustrated his point by forming a tentacle ending in a blade and placing it on the small overweight man''s jugular faster than he had the time to react. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Either you answer my questions, or we''ll see how well a frog can croak without its throat. Am I making myself clear?" "Y-Yes, sir!" "Good, let''s try again. Are the Blood Angels still here?" "No! They-They left the place some weeks ago!" "Good, we''re making progress then. So, did you just try to scam me into paying for a building that no one has claimed, or is there anything more to this situation?" "Just-Just trying to get some easy money, sir!" "Are you sure? Are you certain that none of the local groups asked you to pull this little stunt and justify a feud or disgrace me and mine?" "Nothing! No one! The place is abandoned, I acted on my own, I swear!" The man was sweating bullets as James did his best to try and read him. The man hadn''t seemed like a manipulative mastermind and it had been pretty easy to guess what had gone through his head so far, but for all he knew all of that could have been a trick to lower his guard and catch him by surprise with this final lie to tempt him into taking a warehouse still used by others. Taking over someone else''s operations and their base was something James had learned to do, but he had only targeted small groups to avoid repercussions, if it turned out the Angels were still here and decided to send out one of their more elite members... "Tell me, are you important? Would anyone miss you, mister Froko?" "Why yes! Very important! The most important there is! In truth, I work for the Union! The country! Tons of people would know if I disappeared! Important people! Powerful people! Why, Sunburn himself would come!" "I see. Well then, let''s visit the place." James formed more tentacles to seize the man and keep him restrained before he approached the warehouse''s closest entrance, a metal door on the side, and simply knocked and waited. The seconds passed by and a minute went by without any response, so James decided to open the door himself. It was unlocked, and the inside of the warehouse was only lit by the small windows placed near the top of the walls. True to the salesman''s words it appeared unoccupied, with only a few crates of scraps and trash left compared to his last visit. No signs of food or drinks nearby, which meant nothing living and sapient had come by recently. "It appears you spoke the truth, no one has claimed this place." "See? It''s not like gangs keep the same places for long, at least outside of the Black Block and whatever it is they have going on in the center. Without a big fist nearby, everyone is fighting over anything. Why bother securing and upgrading a building when you could just go to the next one, eh? No-Not that your plan is bad, of course!" "I see. So this is why you assumed you could pull off this sort of scam. I am not familiar with the local customs, and so would have fallen for the trap without realizing it, correct?" "Y-Yes, a new face in town is a new wallet to target, you know? So, will you let me go now?" James spread his shadow to close the door before forming tendrils that began to investigate every nook and cranny of the room for any possible hidden spy or camera or microphone, all the while staying silent as Froko sweated profusely. "You''re letting me go, right?" Nothing in the remaining crates. No fake walls. No one hanging down from the ceiling. No one in the street looking through a window, windows which were all quickly getting smothered by darkness and robbed the warehouse''s interior of light. "Mister Froko, you have done nothing today to make me like you. For all I know, you could be a spy or bait sent by another group to undermine mine. Why should I let you go?" At this point, even the reddest part of the salesman''s face was paler than snow. "I beg you! Please! I''ll do anything!" Tentacles emerged from Froko''s shadow and slithered up his form, pulsing and throbbing as they constricted him and raised his face to James'' featureless head, pain slowly emerging from his joints. "And what could you even do? Everything I heard from your very mouth today about you, mister Froko, leads me to believe you are not even worth racketing. You have nothing, you know no one, and you have lied to my face multiple times." "I-I''ll be your spy! You could send me to another gang and I''ll tell you everything I hear!" "With your poor performance today, I doubt you''d last a minute, even among the more dull-minded thugs that roam these streets." "I-I can work for you! Like those guys in your shop! I remember them selling useless junk to people before, now they''re loyal and effective, right?!" "I chose Barry and Larry because I sensed potential in them. I also know I can trust them both to handle finances and keep secrets. You have none of that." "I... I... I-I have a contact in the good city!" "More lies, truly?" "It''s true! I''m from there! My brother and I have a scrapyard on the other end of the city, to avoid competing with the Junkland. Didn''t work, so I thought I''d get some easy money fooling the slummers before going back home! I''ve been doing it for years!" "You are awfully plump for someone in these parts, I''ll admit. Let''s say I bite, what then? You want to sneak me through the security?" "It could work! O-Or, I could sneak your products through, and set up a new shop for you to sell your merchandise to the good people of the city! People who actually have money!" In the salesman''s eyes, the entity known as Silhouette pondered for a moment before, at long last, all the tentacles that had grasped onto him let him go and let his body fall to the ground. "I am giving you a week to make some arrangements. Do not try to fool me, I''ll find you." "Th-Thank you for your generosity! I won''t let you down!" "You better not. Now go and work." "Yes sir!" The salesman ran away as fast as he could, before stopping out of breath a few steps past the door, before resuming his run and finally leaving the warehouse behind, happy to live one more day and cursing himself for trying to interact with the latest face on the Block, blissfully unaware of the black mark on his back between his shoulder blades. James, on the other hand, was already calling someone with the phone he had kept stored within himself. "Techlord? I have a place. It will need a lot of alterations though." "Great, more work." "Come on now, how are you supposed to improve if you don''t push your limits? Besides, with the shield done, you should have some time now." "Time I wanted to use to work on my suit, but yes." "Say, would establishing an outpost in the Junkland help alleviate your work?" "Absolutely not. I''d have to sort through the junk to find what''s usable myself, your guys and rats have no idea of what could explode in their faces." "So, we''d need a team of scavengers already experienced with the area." "And some guns to deal with all the beasties around. Sicklers breed a lot." "I''ll keep that in mind. Thank you for your hard work, Techlord." "Just give me a week off when the troubles are over and we''ll call it even, boss." The teen hung up before James could respond, and he only had one thing in mind. Troubles are never over, Sam. Chapter 91 : Wandering eyes James dug into the earth, once more excavating an underground passage between the sewers and one of his bases. Tentacles as hard as steel pierced the solid material before him before elongating and throwing it back, a task made easier by the fact he was currently only a bunch of wriggling tentacles with no body, each limb uniquely doing its part, with the middle ones not only passing the debris to those after them but also infusing the rubble and condensing and fusing it, reducing the size of the pile of material while keeping its mass and improving its structure. It was somewhat nostalgic to reuse this technique that made handling the consequences of digging easier, although James had indubitably improved since the last time. The location in the sewers he was connecting to his new warehouse was a fake lair, it had a few rooms and Mischief had to patrol it but in truth, it would be utterly insignificant without the tunnel James was currently working on. It wasn''t the first time James infused patches of bricks to throw off people looking for him, and this new fake lair was only one among the dozen other additions he had made to prepare against Runar''s forces'' next assault. To be on the safe side James had tried to make these fakes in such a way that they roughly formed a circle, with his actual lair being away from the center. Hopefully, anyone looking for him would be fooled by the stratagem, and Techlord would have the time to come up with some new surprises to welcome them once they showed up. At last, James reached the surface - or more accurately, the other half of the tunnel he had preemptively dug after preparing the entrance in the warehouse. Rather than reuse the original passage James had originally made for the ratlings to sneak in from the early days, he made a new one after determining what he wanted to do with the place with Techlord. James continued through the tunnel, trusting the members of Mischief tasked with gathering debris to do their job, and rose to the surface to emerge from a crate of black wood, reforming his body into a more visually pleasing form as he reached the warehouse''s floor. All around him black humanoids ran to and fro, transporting tools and supplies as some lifted and moved large wood panels to form new walls to delimit new rooms inside of the warehouse, cutting back on its efficiency when it came to stocking but furthering James'' designs. As conflicted as he was about transforming people against their will, he couldn''t deny the result. The infused workers, all former thugs from various origins - with a hefty addition since Pierce Evil''s attack - worked as though they were all on the same page, not quite to the point of a hivemind but none of them hesitated to drop non-important tasks when another requested help and they all worked in perfect harmony, changing their strength and posture to work best with their fellows. None of them stood out as a leader, for they worked as a team, and even physically it was hard to distinguish most of them, though a few did have more unique features, like the small goblin currently hammering two panels together over a pole into a corner, or the one that could only be described as a werewolf that was offering its hands for the goblins to stand on. James planned to keep those two around to act as leaders for the rest of them in the future. The shaman he had fought not so long ago, right before his encounter with the demon Sydakors, had been able to still use its magic when James had asked it to, though instead of the light green energy it had showcased in the past it now produced an incredibly dark green one, and James had to admit he was surprised it hadn''t become pitch black. The werewolf-looking one he had encountered early on in his expansion plan, and seeing it so docile and cooperative was strange when compared to the lone and unthinking feral beast he had to fight after it attacked him out of nowhere. He knew its strength could put him to shame, and ever since its infusion its claws had become able to actually cut into him rather than just pass through, which James hoped meant that it could damage non-material entities. There was another notable thing about the werewolf, namely that it had no eyes when he had first met it, a large scar running over they should have been and across the snout. Now? Now, it had two black flames emerging from its skull instead, hard to distinguish amidst the black fur most of the time, although the creature had showcased these flames could grow and become more obvious when it so desired or when fighting. The goblin had needed a partner for its demonstration, after all. The plan was pretty simple, all things considered: James would put a fake workshop in the middle of the warehouse and leave his infused forces to watch over it and fake making products when in truth everything would be brought in from the secret tunnel. People would assume this was the heart of James'' business, and anyone looking to harm him would aim here first, unaware that the only things they''d find would be loyal and powerful fighters as well as a lot of traps, with a special something ready to deal with the most dangerous foes in the worst case scenario. Mundane people would be hired to help take care of the actual warehouse portion of the building and help transport crates to and from the shop, with some infused fighters acting as guards and managers. Although James had some doubt about the intellectual abilities of the infused when it came to directing workers, their work here was hopefully proof that they could do it. Not that James would keep his entire infused forces here, only half a dozen or so. The rest would be spread through his various holdings in the Sunken City to keep watch over his latest unwilling employees and protect them from threats. Techlord was currently working on a device that could replicate the infusion process at an industrial level using the infused Core of the Titaroach James had kept for so long, and if he succeeded, then all those former racketing and drug dealing gangs would instead have the task to infuse the various items that would end up in the shop, with those meant for James'' and his forces'' personal uses instead being made directly in either the sewers lair or the orphanage, to ensure they couldn''t be tampered with. Though, judging by how much cursing James heard from the teen genius'' room, he assumed it might take some time before everything was ready. I really need to find him a coworker, or at least an assistant... Goliath won''t suffice for long. Now that the tunnel was finished, James could only watch as the infused continued their work. He had already taken care of the windows and the original structure of the warehouse a while ago so there was truly nothing for him to do, bar perhaps standing guard and keeping watch. Which, as he considered the thought, could be a very good idea. There should have already been thugs and goons from various gangs outside to check on the new changes. After becoming a twisting shadow twisted and slithering outside, James could assert that yes, there were a lot of people trying to stay hidden to spy on his latest operation. Not all of them appeared to come from gangs, some seemed to be locals curious about the change, there was also a team of three individuals in light combat armor standing in the shade of a small makeshift camp on top of a building further away, keeping watch over the warehouse with a pair of binoculars - in fact, it was the reflection of the sun''s light on the glass that brought them to James'' attention. Another odd thing watching over James'' acquisition was a crow, which didn''t sound all that strange until you took into account the fact that James had never seen a crow in the slums, and from what he knew these corvids preferred to stay in groups - murders, to be precise - and therefore a lone individual was uncommon. James was also familiar with Norse mythology, and although he doubted Odin himself had taken notice of him the concept of using crows as spies wasn''t alien to him. For all he knew, the thing standing on a neighboring building''s roof wasn''t even a bird but some kind of drone. The Empress was known for using robots of all kinds, after all. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. James was half tempted to confront those more discreet spies, but the whole point of this warehouse scheme was to give them something to look at over searching for more. Still, he''d warn the others to keep an eye out for them. At least he would warn his infused, he doubted the others could feign not noticing those more alert eyes. So far, no one seemed willing to try and break in. Whether it was out of fear after his fight with Pierce Evil on the Black Block or to protect their cover, James wasn''t quite sure, at least for some of those groups. Now, all he could do was wait.
In the shade of a makeshift camp abandoned by a small gang a few days ago, three members of Zalcien''s police force watched over the latest big name in these parts of the slums. Their dark blue light armor and dark grey bodysuit that covered their entire body and hid their skin were the distinctive signs of the department in charge of more dangerous situations, and this specific group had been stationed at the Black Border for a few years now. It wasn''t their first time in the field, but all three were more used to dwelling in actual buildings and acting as border guards than acting as scouts. They took turns to keep an eye on the dark warehouse below, and right now it was the shortest one who looked through his binoculars to study the situation while the other two alternated between relaxing and filling their reports. The tallest in the group turned from her sudoku to address the lookout. "Anything going on, Maurice?" "Nothing so far, Dak." The third one, without looking up from his paperwork, joined in. "Could you tell us who''s around right now?" "More or less the same guys as two hours ago, G. Local civilians have come and gone, I only spot five right now. Independent thugs have mostly cleared out, there are only two left as far as I can see. The scout from the gangs had a shift in personnel but it''s the same groups." "Anything about Runar''s goons?" "No knight or mage so far, but his guys here all have at least one piece of runic gear." "Great. And the bird?" "Still there." G scoffed. "Great. Awesome, even." "What about our new friend, Maurice?" "As I''ve already said, Dak, nothing so far. I haven''t been able to spot any of those black humanoids the locals said they saw, and the mystery man himself hasn''t shown up yet." The two pencil wielders returned to their respective works. The trio stayed silent for a few long minutes before Dak opened her mouth once more. "What do you guys think?" "What''s the definition?" "It''s sudoku, not crosswords G. And I was talking about the guy. Silhouette, I think? Is that right Maurice?" "Yes, that''s the name." "Thanks, Maurice. So, G, what do you think of him so far?" "Why do you ask? It''s not like it''s the first time a new crimelord shows up here." "Sure, but this one bested another established crimelord''s top fighter AND caught a Black''s attention." Hidden behind his combat mask, G rolled his eyes. "He didn''t win, eyewitnesses said it was a draw at best. Without Black, he wouldn''t be here." "But you can''t deny Black is interested in him. You saw the bird." G groaned. "I hate that bird." Dak was about to retort when Maurice interrupted them. "I''ve got movement." The other two went in a mad shuffle to get up and join him before bringing up their own binoculars, just in time to catch the end of a shadow appearing from the warehouse''s door before it disappeared in the rest of the warehouse''s shadow. The three stayed silent as they kept watching, but as the minutes passed with no change Dak and G put their binoculars back down before returning to their previous spots, Dak speaking up once more as she dropped down on the ground. "Hell, that''s Super territory." For once, it''s Maurice that entertained her instead of G. "We can''t be sure. It could have been a trick of the light, or our man could be a god of darkness. We can''t be sure with so little information." "Yeah. Say, did you record it?" "You know I always do." Although they took turns, the trio had agreed Maurice was best suited to keep watch during the day and therefore took longer shifts. Maurice had a Core, and one that gave him an incredibly useful ability: he could see three seconds into the future. The drawback then was that he couldn''t toggle it off, and so he could never see the present - not only that but his ability was limited to sight, none of his other senses were affected. There was a reason why he preferred books to audiovisual entertainment. "Awesome. So, you didn''t answer me: what do you guys think of this Silhouette guy so far?" G groaned. "If it will shut you up, I will tell you what I think: I think this guy has what it takes to become a permanent addition to the local gangs, but his overconfidence may get him killed before he manages that. Black won''t save him every time." "Thanks, G. And you, Maurice?" "From the information we''ve gathered so far, he appears to be a new neutral party. No stealing or racketing, he only has his shop and this warehouse so far if what we know is correct. There is no evidence he might prove a threat to Zalcien. As for his future, I agree with G, if he plays his cards right he could become a local powerhouse. Even gangs would defend him if his wares are good enough, and if he''s lucky some guy from the city might sneak around here to bring his stuff back." Her eyes widened behind her mask. "Drats, didn''t think of that. He''s only selling basic stuff right now, nothing that is guaranteed to be lethal, but if it gets out of hand the higher-ups might have us put an end to it." "You''re overthinking it, Dak. They won''t risk sending a team and angering the gangs if he gets big enough, otherwise, they could hire mercenaries to strike back. No, they''ll just clamp up on his contacts, maybe give him a subtle threat, and stop there, leaving him to try again, and again, and again." "Woah, such optimism, G." "Meh, I prefer to call it ''experienced realism'', it ain''t my first rodeo." "You''re the same age as me, G." "Yes, which means you should grow up." As they were about to banter again Maurice stopped them. "Don''t move." The duo froze and held their breath, keeping their eyes on their colleague as he too did his best to stay still - even more than he already was laying on his front to watch over the warehouse. They stayed like this for a minute before Maurice spoke once more. "The coast is clear." "What the hell was that, Maurice?" "That, Dak, was a shadow appearing on the next building over before slithering down to the ground." "You don''t mean..." "G, write down in your report that Silhouette is fully aware that he''s being watched. No aggression, though I''m unsure if he''s aware we know." Their watch was much tenser after this. Chapter 92 : Recruitment Through one of the many black one-way windows, James, glued to the ceiling, looked at the people gathered before the warehouse and readied himself. His infused had quickly finished installing the new wooden panels to form new walls, and as far as he was concerned the infused planks and nails they had used were as solid as the rest of the warehouse after its little makeover. However, having a building and furnishing and trapping it were three very different things. It had taken a couple of days for Techlord to finally be finished with enough of his workload that he felt fine coming back up to inspect the new addition to James'' possessions himself, and after that, it had taken a week for the teen genius to finish installing what he called the "bare minimum". In the meantime, James had some of his employees in the Sunken City get to salvaging as many resources as they could, especially wood. Most of them had been drug dealers, and since James wasn''t interested in getting into such a messy business he had to find them a new occupation. Salvaging was only part of the new job he had given them since they also had to patrol the territory he controlled and take care of any monster that popped up. That, and they had to help Guy with his information network. Sometimes James wondered if the pay was that good or if they were that scared of him, at least before he remembered the way they looked at the infused down there. Yeah, fear is the big factor here, but I''m optimistic enough to hope the money bought their loyalty too. A man can dream. Regardless, while James kept an eye on the warehouse and put some order to his operations in the Sunken City, Barry and Larry kept the store going and took the time to screen people they thought would be good hires, whether it was because they were destitute and hopeless enough that they''d be effective and loyal workers or on the contrary because they appeared to be some kind of spy James could trick with his plan. It was those people that had gathered before his building and were currently waiting for him to make his entrance, all under the careful and curious eyes of the various scouts spread about. They weren''t as numerous as they had been early on, and since he had first begun to check on them the specific individuals had been swapped multiple times, but they were still a few always around. The crows and the armored folks on the roof of neighboring buildings were still the most notable ones - if you managed to spot them - and they had changed their spots multiple times, rarely using the same one two days in a row, and ruining James'' plan of planting an infused rock or piece of scrap to spy on them himself. Come on James, time to put on a show. James solidified parts of his body to form a spine before rolling his neck and letting them return to his usual consistency. Done with his little pep talk, he turned into liquid and let himself fall off the ceiling, transforming into a shadow as he made contact with the ground before he rushed to the door. Instead of simply exiting to reform outside, James decided to add a little flair to the whole process. The small crowd outside wasn''t all that noisy, most of the people there were unfamiliar with each other, and in the slums, people weren''t inclined to show trust or try and become friends with everyone they met. That wasn''t to say there wasn''t any small talk for there were ushered whispers in the group, but nothing quite to the level of a crowd in the proper city. Even then, what little noise there was died as black smoke suddenly poured out the door they were all standing in front of, the crowd as a whole stepped back, and the spying eyes spread all around suddenly grew much more focused as a humanoid form began to exit the fumes of darkness. BANG! The crowd parted in shock as one man among them looked over the barrel of his still-fuming pistol at the black cloud, suddenly much thicker and darker, too much so to see the figure that had begun to emerge anymore. His hands were sweaty and shaking, and as the man went to wipe his brow with his sleeve what had initially been a scared grimace turned into a small wry smile. And then tentacles grew out of his shadow and wrapped around his every limb. The man didn''t even have time to scream before one of the many black appendages gripped his throat and mouth, muffling any noise he could have possibly tried to make, all the while more and more shadowy flesh restricted his movement and lifted him off the ground. The strength behind the grasp of the tentacles was overwhelming, and many among the onlookers could have sworn they heard bones breaking from the panicking man. "That was quite rude." The crowd''s attention left the man to refocus on the cloud of darkness, and they all watched in awe as the smoke dissipated and the humanoid figure they had seen before reappeared - and those who had seen him before recognized Silhouette, with one new and horrifying detail. There was a hole in their potential employer''s head, evidently where the bullet had pierced, and yet the man was unperturbed. Under their unwavering gaze, the hole shrunk and closed, and the tentacles wrapped around the shooter brought him before the mysterious being. "I will have a lot of questions for you. For your sake, I hope you will have many answers." The man''s wide maddened eyes grew even more fearful as tears fell down his cheeks and onto the black appendages holding him, and as though it was nothing Silhouette stepped aside and let the tentacles carry their victim inside the warehouse, the door opening and closing on its own. The crowd stared at the door until a fake cough from Silhouette caught their attention. "Please disregard this small interruption, everyone. Risks are part of the deal if you wish to join us, so situations such as this one sadly are to be expected. As you can see though, we know how to handle threats." People exchanged furtive glances at these words, some among them finally realizing that joining this new growing power wouldn''t be the guarantee of safety they had hoped for. "Let''s try again, shall we? Greetings everyone, and welcome to our warehouse. Thank you for joining us today, and possibly for the foreseeable future. When my shop managers told me people were looking for employment, I didn''t expect such a large crowd. They should have already screened you, and if they told you to come here today, it means they saw potential in you, enough for me to take the time to consider hiring you to help handle our ever-popular products. As you can guess, however, we do not need all of you, which is why I will now be interviewing you one by one to decide if you are fit to become one of my employees. Once your interview is over, you will simply have to wait here for me to finish the screening process and announce my decision. Are there any questions?" If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A man immediately called out. "What''s the pay like?" "My shop managers should already have mentioned it, but as a reminder, you will be earning 15 Xerins a day." Which was barely more than what James had offered the Shadow Commando when he first recruited them, though they had gotten a raise since then. Someone spoke out. "Will we get those fancy guns your guys have?" "No, at least not right away. Those are reserved for trusted employees, though the rest of you will get some premium and exclusive equipment to help you do your job safely." "What are the working conditions?!" "You have a roof above your head, and colleagues who won''t try to kill you. You get a ten-minute break every hour, possibly more or longer breaks if your managers allow it. If you''re hurt on the job, you will be brought to the closest medical professional and we will cover the bill, you won''t have to work for as long as the doctor recommends, and we''ll cover the base expenses for you to survive until you can get back to work and earn your full pay. You get four weeks'' worth of days off, you just have to give your manager a notice a week in advance. You may give us the name of someone to send your pay to if you die on the job. Any further questions?" Many surprised looks and hopeful smiles formed on the people''s faces once they heard Silhouette''s words, his offer going far beyond what any other employer might offer in the slums - at least, any employer who would be willing to hire nobodies like them. Seeing all these people looking like they had an oasis after days of traveling the desert nearly made James'' metaphorical heart bleed for them, knowing full well he only needed them to fool potential threats and that he couldn''t afford to take them all in, but he knew full well that he didn''t and couldn''t bear the misery of others. If all went well, he and the ratlings would hopefully never return to the slums once they fully transitioned to the proper Zalcien, and the only reason he would ever involve himself with this place afterward would be strictly for business. It''s not my job to fix this city. Getting myself a normal life will be hard enough, there''s no way I can do anything for dozens of strangers. "No more questions, then? Good. Now, before we begin, I would like to make sure you understand you will all be interviewed today, and the people around you may be your coworkers very soon, so play nice. Anyone who starts a fight or makes a scene will be kicked out and banned from future hiring sessions and all our shops. Now, please, may a volunteer step forward and join me inside? It will be quick." While many hesitated or even stepped back when the door opened on its own, reminded of the man that had been dragged inside a few minutes prior and of the many rumors circulating about the mysterious being before them, just as many stepped forward, ready to risk anything for a brighter tomorrow. Seeing how others were willing to step forwards, a few considered threatening the rest or pleading but quickly dropped the idea after recalling Silhouette''s warning. It was one thing to be told something by a minion, but when the big boss himself told you something, even the most imbecilic person in the crowd understood you had to obey. It took a few minutes of passive-aggressive polite demands and multiple boasting speeches before James grew tired of their admittedly restrained bickering and just made them form a line at random. That done, he finally began the screening process as some of his infused stepped outside to manage the crowd while he was gone. James had had the infused set up a small open office next to the door to be used by a receptionist in the future, but for now, it was more than enough for what he needed. It already had a few sheets of paper and a pen ready for him to take notes. And thus began his interviewing session.
"Name?" "Mop, sir." "Mop?" "Yes, Mop, sir. Papa named my sister after his job, so Mama named me after hers." "I see. Any family name?" "Ah, Skybreaker, sir. Papa said grandpa was the seventh son of a foreign noble house." "I see..."
"And why do you think you''re a must-have, mister Snowflake?" "Well, first off, I''m Cored!" "Snow powers, I assume?" "No, improved smell." "Ah."
"So... Bob. Do you have any experience working in a warehouse?" "Ribbit. No." "In this case, what makes you think you should work here?" "Ribbit. Big frog, good work. Ribbit." "I assume you have some form of super strength?" "Ribbit. Peak of the pond. Ribbit." "Here, take the time to note down what you can do. The more I know, the better I can tell if you''re what I''m looking for. No lies." "Ribbit. Liars feed the snakes. Ribbit." "Indeed."
"-and I can make coffee, and fruit juice, and tea, and cookies, and nuclear reactions-" "Did you just say nuclear reactions?" "Oh, yes! That''s what I call my pepper mint milkshake secret recipe." "Uh uh." James noted down "Joelle Janvier" on his secret "dangerous maniacs" list.
"And how did your employment with the Merry Mess go?" "Good, all things considered. I lost a hand, but hey, that''s how dad met father." "I see, so you would say it wouldn''t ignite a feud if I recruited you?" "Ah, fat chance! They''re all dead, colder than ice. Turns out Moonfreeze didn''t appreciate the fine art the boss made of her. That was a good day to have diarrhea." "..."
"Please, I beg you, please just hire me." "You need the money?" "That too, but I just want a break from all those madmen. My neighbor sells eggs for a living, and I can''t stand it anymore. I''ll even sleep here, work during the night, anything." "I do not recall chicken being such annoying animals, aside from the rooster and the smell perhaps?" "He doesn''t sell bird eggs." "I-" "No, you don''t want to know. Please, spare yourself."
"So... Shadows, eh? That''s a fancy trick. Is it Will or Soul? Maybe both?" "Don''t." "Sheesh, sorry. I''m just curious, that''s all. Plenty of weirdos out there, but you''re the first one like you I see." "Each person is unique, after all, and that includes you, mister Puma." "Eh... I kind of am not...?" "How so?" "Well, turns out the real Claude Puma - or rather Claudette - wanted to have some fun with a male clone of herself, but didn''t have the money to pay the guy she hired for the job, though she took care to keep that part hidden from him until the deed was done. Hey, I''m not complaining, better live in filth than to be a slave in a golden cage, you get me?" "Couldn''t the cloner have recycled your biomass somehow? Even if not, letting you go seems... counterintuitive." "Meh, lucky me, he was vegan or something. Didn''t care about enslaving living things, but killing them was a big no-no. Trust me, I know I''m lucky."
In a lull between interviews, James tried to take the time to review everything he had noted down so far. However, only one thing went through his mind. Barry, Larry, the Commando... They''re not the exceptions. They''re all that insane. Chapter 93 : Hiring After a very long and very draining day spent interviewing more and more eccentric and or desperate slum dwellers looking for work in his newly acquired and modified warehouse, James barely held himself back from slamming his head onto the desk he had been using. The notes he had taken did help filter away the profiles he wanted absolutely nothing to do with, but he still had more prospective recruits than he could afford to hire. Let''s just try to think about the ones I liked the best, and see what''s left afterward. Despite his odd way of speaking, Bob the frogman was one of the candidates James liked the most. He had a no-nonsense attitude, valued honesty and hard work, and had an undeniably muscular body, barely hidden by his thick green slimy skin, and that combined with his height of 3 meters and his naturally powerful frog legs made him a remarkably efficient physical worker. Out of the lot, he was the one James was the most surprised didn''t already have a job. After asking the frog himself, it turned out most employers weren''t quite as understanding of his speech pattern: that, and good old racism. Ellie Bell, the towering former Merry Mess goon with a hook instead of a right hand, was an interesting case. She was familiar with the gangs and the ways they operated, she didn''t have much of a moral compass but appeared to be utterly loyal to whoever was paying her at the time. James was unsure if she was a spy sent by another group or if she genuinely thought he was the best employer for her. Her hook did make her less efficient as a worker in his warehouse since he intended for her and most of the others to move and organize crates, but after she demonstrated she could lift a pair of boxes stacked on top of one another with her remaining hand her handicap wasn''t as problematic. James wouldn''t have been surprised if her impressive muscles had been all she needed to manage such a feat, but she had told him she had the Body Aspect. Only that, if she were to be trusted. Next was the poor Elen Gurt. The small lithe woman showed an above-average talent in organizing and low-level management, but her biggest draw was her willingness to work a night shift. James also had to admit her plea to get away from her nightmarish neighbor and his eggs played a part in her ranking on his list, and she reminded him of himself in a way. But had that been the only thing going for her, he wasn''t sure he would have bothered to recruit her. Mop Skybreaker was a strange one. The young man wasn''t impressive, remarkably average in everything in fact, almost suspiciously so. Either he was a spy, or James had managed to get his hands on the most boring man in the slums. Bar his odd name and family history, there was nothing worth talking about. No Core, no Aspect, no history with the gangs, just some odd jobs here and there helping the merchants of the Black Block. Well, there was one thing that intrigued James. Mop had said his name came from his janitor mother, but as far as James was concerned no one in the slums would bother with a proper janitor, doing the cleaning yourself or getting a goon to do it seemed much more efficient. The only people he could imagine bothering to get someone full-time just for cleaning were the Black Bank and the major gangs, so either Mop''s mother was involved with very important people or she worked in the main city, and both of these answers intrigued him. Claude Puma was... Peculiar. The fact he had been so open about his nature as a clone and how he came to be was intriguing, and the mix of the man''s curiousness and his tendency to overshare stood out among the rest of the applicants. They had all shared personal things with James, but most of them only said the bare minimum or inconsequential things, and none of them had asked as many questions as the clone did. James recalled reading about the fact that liars tended to tell a lot of details when trying to deceive someone because being vague was a lot more suspicious. Out of all the people James had met today aside from the shooter, Claude seemed the most likely to be a spy. Which either meant that he was one or that someone would use him as a cover to truly act as a spy. If James hired the man, he would be getting either a spy or a scapegoat for one, and both would serve his little scheme. As much as it annoyed James. Joelle Janvier, despite being on the "dangerous maniacs" list, brought a very important ability that no one else had: as insane as her recipes could get, she was the only one who could cook properly. If James wanted to set up some kind of mess hall or- Wait. I don''t. They''re all grown adults who managed to live for so long in the slums, they know how to get food. If anything, I''m sure some guys from the Block will try to set up their stalls here when lunchtime comes to try and make an extra buck. A weight was lifted off his shoulders as he no longer had any reason to hire her. After confirming his core team, he skimmed through his notes, comparing the various profiles to see which would best fit the bill. One he had initially dismissed grew a lot more interesting as he gave it a second read. Snowflake isn''t that impressive, but the improved olfactive sense could be great to detect poisons. It''d spare me from having to set up a permanent Mischief lookout on the surface and risk them getting noticed. He''s a little too enthusiastic for his own good, but I''m sure the infused and the other recruits will keep him under control. James nodded to himself. Yes, Snowflake was worth it. But would six workers be enough for his plan? With the handful of infused he planned to keep stationed here, nearly a dozen persons to man the warehouse lined up with what the Blood Angels had done back in the day. Granted, he had managed to rob the place and get away with almost no issue, but the guards at the time weren''t all that impressive. Bar that Cored mutant, in retrospect, James was certain he''d have been able to fight his way through as he was at the time. Not that it would have been a good idea, since he now knew exactly how powerful the Angels were as a group. With how great Techlord''s inventions were, the idea a mech the teen had made was destroyed in a single attack was terrifying. In any case, it looked like James had his team ready. Now all he had to do was go out and announce the good and bad news to the crowd. Still, as his mind wandered back to his heist on the warehouse in his early days, James wondered what had happened to the guards there.
Farther away from the Black Block and James'' new warehouse, yet still close enough to be considered part of their area rather than a part of the inner circle of the slums, stood an old hospital. The place was easy to dismiss based on looks alone, it was merely yet another building scarred by time and Zalcien''s past, though one slightly dirtier and more damaged than the rest. The blocky U-shape of the hospital was to be expected for this sort of building, and although it had been remade from metal scraps the towering H on its front made its origins even more obvious. And yet, this place was shunned. No one dared approach, and most of the neighboring buildings, despite being in a good enough state to be habitable, were empty, people refusing to live near the accursed place. For a demented mind lived in these walls, one everyone in the slums had heard at least once about, the deeds it committed had turned into horror stories that even many in the main city heard about, though those fortunate few were too blinded by their comfort and trust in the Union to believe these tales to be real. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Yes, none in the slums, not even the latest arrivals or the youngest of children, had been spared from hearing the stories about the maddest man in Zalcien. The Patcher. In one of the operation rooms of the former hospital, the insane man was at work. When one thought of a mad doctor, they usually imagined a white coat, maybe blue or green scrubs, but the Patcher was no medical professional. The tall humanoid figure wore a white top, indeed, a buttoned-up shirt with long sleeves that were always folded back up to the elbow, but that was the only thing remotely doctor-like about him. His pants were black and so were his shoes, but the most eye-catching features of his outfit were the leather gloves and apron he wore, made from multiple sheets of leather of varying sizes seemingly randomly sewn together, most were between beige and brown shades, but some were a little darker, others a little paler, and a few were of completely different colors, such as green or blue. The long face of the Patcher was home to a pair of two pale blue eyes, bordering on grey and usually shielded by a pair of perfectly round glasses resting on a small pointy nose and a pair of long ears, decorated by dangling silver bars that acted as chimes. His lips were thin and currently contorted in a small smile under his prominent cheekbones, his skin stretching without a wrinkle. To top it all off, his curly pepper hair was stylized in an odd way, mono-color strands of either black or grey standing out like little spikes, strangely similar to a durian. He was standing as he worked, a scalpel dancing elegantly between his gloved fingers as he twirled around the metal table his current project was on, currently an undefined pile of lightly throbbing red flesh half as tall as he was. In a macabre spectacle, he cut away at the flesh in fluid and elegant motions before examining the slabs and tossing them to either one of two other tables set up nearby, covered in various limbs, bones, organs, and skin sheets, sometimes only to then pick up something from either of the piles and sticking it in where he had just removed something and miraculously sewing it shut with a needle floating around him, dancing along with his spin and turn. He hummed to himself a sweet melody, the ringing of his chimes accompanying him along. During one of his examinations, a pair of green eyes mounted over two rows of human teeth stared at him from the pile of flesh, nearly crushed beneath the meat, the mouth slowly opened and closed in silence, the movement too subtle to let the teeth make a sound as they met. The Patcher stared at the thing that could barely be called a face and chuckled, patting what could be called the top of the head, hidden beneath a roll of meat from the pile. "Be nice now, the operation isn''t over just yet. If you behave, I''ll consider shutting down your pain receptors next time." The eyes continued to stare. The meat pulsed on, barely moving and unable to make a sound. The madman''s smile grew a little more before returning to normal. He approached yet another table set up nearby, this one not covered in flesh but with various tools, from even smaller and more refined scalpels to a butcher''s knife passing by a bone saw. He took a good look at his current patient, tilting his head as he examined it before putting down his cutting tool, taking the time to quickly clean it with a white towel laying on the table, but before he had the time to take whatever else had caught his eye a loud yet slow knocking came at the door. For the first time since the operation began the Patcher dropped his smile, a sneer worming its way onto his features before he cooled down and put on a more neutral expression. "Open the door, but don''t come in." Something followed his orders, and a completely bald human head passed through the crack in the doorway, followed by the leg that served as its neck. "Phooone..." The Patcher sighed. "Very well, bring it in." This time it was a hand that passed through, a large chubby hand as big as a man''s torso, a hand that was attached to a disgustingly long limb made of multiple arms grafted together at the joints. The creature behind the door paid attention to keep its hand at the same level as the tables in the room and to keep it completely flat and parallel to the ground, for in its palm rested an item. An old black telephone, with a roughly pyramidal base on which rested the proper phone, a rotary dial attached to the base and a curly black cable connecting said base to the phone. As soon as it passed through the doorway the ringing that came from it spread through the room, going from complete silence to a thunderous sound. Still, it was only when the hand stopped near the Patcher''s waist that the madman picked it up, twirling the line between his fingers, the needle floating in the air limiting the gesture. "Ahoy?" "Patcher, it''s Karadok." A smile returned on the man''s face. "Karadok! How are you doing, my good orc? Taking care of those muscles of yours, I hope? Your triceps seemed a little inflamed the last time I saw you. And your jugular! I hope you''re taking care of it, hm?" "Patcher, I want to talk business." The madman groaned. "I know, it''s the only thing anyone ever wants to talk about. ''Patcher, I need you to heal someone!'', ''Patcher, I think you took one of my guys!'', ''Patcher, I need a monster to clobber that newby!'', always work, work, work. No one ever asks how little old me is doing, or if they could drop by to take some tea." The orc on the other end of the phone ignored his complaints. "Lord Runar has been trying to catch an exotic creature for some time now-" The Patcher returned to his earlier enthusiasm. "Oh! What sort of-" "A shadow elemental, we believe." "Peh, no flesh. You can keep that one." "That was the plan. Anyway, Pierce Evil tried to get it but made a mess, Lord Runar wants me to already prepare a replacement just in case." "And you want me to do what, exactly?" "I want you to make us a monster. Either to replace Pierce Evil or to prevent his imminent demise." The Patcher tapped his gloved fingers on the base of the phone as he thought. "What do you want, exactly? Sheer strength? Dexterity? Endurance? My work is complex, Karadok." "From what we''ve learned, the creature is immune to mundane means, but magical attacks do harm it." "I''m guessing you would want to inscribe a few runes?" "Yes, it would spare us the cost of manufacturing equipment." "I think I have something in mind for you. The problem then is, what do I get out of it, Karadok?" "We have the money." The madman gasped. "Money? Do you take me for some kind of monster-making machine, Karadok? I am an artist, I do not work for ''money'', at least not for the sort of project you''re commissioning here." "We won''t kidnap people for you, Patcher. Unlike you, we have a reputation to keep and we follow the rules of the slums." "Well, I''m afraid I can''t see what else you could bring to the table, my dear Karadok. My other contracts already give me all I need." "Enchanted tools for your operations, perhaps?" "And risk your magic ruining my precious projects? No, I do not think so. Besides, I do not need your trinkets to do my work, unlike others." The orc on the other end of the phone stayed silent, and the Patcher knew he got him. "What if... If I solemnly swore to the Black Bank you would get my corpse if I happened to die? Would you do it then?" "Oh, Karadok, you know I prefer to work with living flesh." "I will not quit my work for lord Runar until the day I die, Patcher." "What about a compromise? I get you the day you cease working for Runar. Whether it''s because you die, you quit, he dies, he fires you, or whatever else, the day you no longer work for him you get on my table. That''s a fair deal, no?" As the silence grew, so did the madman''s smile. "... Fine. But you better make us the best monster you have ever done." "But of course! I''ll start on it as soon as I get a signed contract. I''ll have one of my pets send my end of the deal before the end of the day, the rest is in your hands. It''s always a pleasure to work with you, Karadok, and soon to work ON you!" The orc didn''t even bother to answer and just hung up the phone. Without anyone but his creations to witness him, the Patcher released a chuckle. Oh, he couldn''t wait to rummage through the orc''s innards and put those remarkable yet inefficient muscles to better use. But first, he had a new project to start. "Philibert, go warn the others, we have a new big project to start soon. And bring me some paper." He turned back to the table with the pulsing pile of meat. "Do not worry, dear. I haven''t forgotten about you. Let''s wrap it up for today, we''ll finish this soon, I promise." The smile that adorned his lips chilled the poor thing down to the soul. Chapter 94 : Experimenting with the soul space Although James had been very tempted to stick around for his new employees'' first day of work, he reasoned it would be more detrimental than beneficial. The whole point of the operation was for potential enemies to see the warehouse as the easier target, and for potential spies to feel confident observing and maybe sabotaging it. His new workers might feel weird and uncomfortable if he hung around, even hidden. Besides, his infused could handle the situation. The goblin shaman and the werewolf-thing directing a small group of powered-up humanoids were more than enough to deal with most things James knew roamed the slums. No, there was a much better use of his time on the horizon. Or, to be more exact, within himself. Currently taking the form of a puddle in his meditation room in the sewers lair, filtering out the sound of the ratlings sparring with various members of Mischief, James was going back to his "soul space", the void in which his various connections and his true soul resided deep within his consciousness. The void had changed a lot since his first visit, James idly noted. Many new spots representing things he had infused had appeared, though it appeared the void rearranged itself to make sure it was never cluttered, and even if it were James could instinctively feel which spot represented what, such as the new tattoo he had sneakily snuck onto the scammer that had tried to sell him the warehouse, currently arguing with another man about fruit prices and whatnot. From these spots grew threads, each independent from the rest and yet in such numbers that it almost looked like a web, and these threads congregated into a large hollow ball, though as more and more formed it was harder to tell the sphere was empty, as fewer and fewer spots exposed its inexistent interior. From this sphere a condensed cable assembling all threads came to him, widening to form a classic genie-like tail on which rested his humanoid torso, or more accurately the shell he had formed with the threads to protect his soul hidden within. A very good decision in hindsight, as was evidenced by the various scars left behind in the void after his fight with the demon Sydakors. Before, the connections between infused items and the giant yarn ball were all straight, but ever since James had used some to sew shut the wounds the demon''s attacks somehow caused to his soul space, many of them went straight to the black scars floating in the air before joining back with the rest, sometimes at particularly odd angles. The fact no thread touched another before they joined the sphere was almost miraculous. Now that he was taking the time to simply watch his soul space, James realized something as he traced the many connections he had formed. He had expected them to be completely random, or perhaps be placed to mimic the items'' positions in the real world, but instead, they formed layers. The closer to the "center" - the great sphere - they were, the more... Extreme, things were. The various bricks and knickknacks he had infused for his shop formed the outermost layer, whereas the people he had infused formed the innermost, or at the very least the people he had completely infused. The scammer, for example, was situated among the bricks, which made sense since his tattoo-like mark was rather benign compared to the rest of the living things James had transformed. As intriguing as this discovery was, there wasn''t much James could do about it, and it wasn''t why he had initially decided to study his soul space some more. No, he had something more practical in mind. James put his hand on one of the many threads, this one connecting him to Polisson, and felt it beneath his fingers. It was much more solid than one would expect in a spiritual environment, but James had some difficulty narrowing down which texture was the closest to what he felt. It was smooth and comfortable, yet solid, it was neither cold nor warm, yet he could feel a very weak heat coming from it. It wasn''t sticky, nor was it particularly slippery. It... Well, the closest thing he knew to this substance was his own body, the one he had gained upon reincarnating in this world. The only difference he could notice was that his body''s natural state seemed to be on the goopier side of things, whereas these threads were perfectly solid. Unless...? James wanted to try and see if he could alter the thread beyond the sewing technique he had used to close his wounds, but testing this on such an important link felt stupid. He left his connection to Polisson alone and instead floated to the outskirts of his soul space, as far as his tail could extend, and instead chose to test his hypothesis on one of his connections to his many infused bricks. The first thing that stood out was that the thread was thinner, and when he put his hand on it James could feel some give. James pulled with all his strength, and the spot from which the link appeared slowly moved, but as soon as James let go it returned to its original point. James pondered the discovery as he tried something else, something inspired by the similarity between his flesh and these threads. With his hand still on the thread, James emptied his mind and let himself go. The world went black. And then James was in the training room. As in, the general training room, not his dedicated personal space. More specifically, it appeared he was somewhere above the ground in a corner of the room, and none of the many rodents currently training within the room had noticed his appearance. Though, knowing his kids and Polisson, it shouldn''t be long before one of them noticed his apparition. As the realization set in, James also noticed he was quickly falling, and still out of it thanks to his inexperience he didn''t catch himself in time and splattered on the floor. As expected, many furry heads turned at the sound, all brandishing their weapons and barring their teeth, ready to fight, before they all realized at the same time what exactly had interrupted them. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Father?" James knew answering Lucille should be his priority, but right now his mind was still a little shaken. Still, he didn''t want to worry his kids. He slowly reformed himself from the puddle he had become to his usual Silhouette form and shook his head a few times before focusing on his workaholic daughter. "I''m fine, Lucille. Just... I''m just a little lost, right now, don''t mind me." The usually stern little rodent had an approximation of a frown on her snout, but surprisingly it was neither she nor one of her siblings who questioned James'' words. "Master, are you certain you are well?" James noticed that unlike his children Polisson hadn''t fully lowered his guard, and the old rat''s shadowy paw had morphed to form truly impressive claws, closer to knives than natural body parts. James was somewhat ashamed to admit he had almost forgotten the leader of his rat force''s spectral limb past its original appearance, and that, combined with his latest experiment and his experience of communicating with his infused at a distance, made him realize that infusion might be capable of much more than just improving things. "Yes, Polisson. I was just testing some of my abilities, and, well... Here I am. Worry not, I''ll be getting back to my room." The old rat nodded, and as James passed him by on his way out he projected a whisper that he was only the rodent elder could hear. "Good work keeping an eye out." Polisson didn''t twitch a hair but from the glint in his eyes, James assumed he got the message. Once he was back in his room, James spent the rest of the day testing out this teleportation trick. To start things out, he paid much more attention to where the items whose links he used to travel were. He tried to reorganize the mess of threads in his soul space to make it easier to keep track of, but just like in his earlier experiments things always went back to where they were as soon as he let go. At least he got better at identifying threads at a glance, and slowly but surely was making a mental map of what was where. Once that was done, it thankfully only took a few hours of constant teleportation to get accustomed to the sudden change of location. No longer was James stunned for a few seconds, incredibly precious time in a fight, though it appeared transport always required him to turn into a shadow before forming back. That was the most crucial test that day, the conditions for his ability to work. So far, it appeared he could only teleport to an infused inanimate object if he was also touching one and there was an infused surface connecting the two. In simpler terms, he could teleport from any brick in his lair to another, but going to an infused brick in another section of the sewers was impossible, and so was teleporting from a regular sewer canal to his lair. He could also teleport from a brick of the lair to, say, an infused electrogun, but only if the electrogun was on the ground of the lair or an infused table with its feet on the lair''s floor. So, this ability could prove useful to quickly go from room to room in one place, but couldn''t be used to travel between his two lairs quickly. A shame, fast travel would have been great. Another annoying impractical aspect of this ability is that James needed to mediate and enter his soul space to find a thread to travel through. Granted, he had gotten much quicker at this than he had been when he first began studying magic, but that was still a drawback. James probably wouldn''t be able to use this trick to escape in the middle of a fight, but he could surprise an opponent who assumed he was in another room. All this time spent studying the many threads connecting him to the various bricks he had infused did remind him of a certain something he had been putting off for a while, dealing with Grover. It looked like his prisoner didn''t have any sort of tracking device on him, whether magical or technological, given the fact no one else had shown up in the sewers since his raid. Or Runar could be playing the long game and was simply waiting for James to drop his guard. Maybe instead it was killing the man that would trigger something that would alert his employer to his position? These had been many of the interrogations that had urged James to keep the man locked up in the first place, that and his personal discomfort at the idea of killing someone who posed no threat. But now? After Runar''s attack on the shop? And with the warehouse plan well on its way? Well, there was no point in trying to spare Runar''s feelings, and if anything giving him a false clue could help. It wasn''t like James had planned to keep Grover in his cell forever, after all. He just... He had just hoped something would happen. Maybe Runar sending in a message to parley, or something. There''s no point in keeping him around anymore, the goons I caught had more recent intel anyway. But what to do... After a few long silent minutes spent pondering, James sighed and simply went to the lair''s prison. The place was the same as always, with the only noteworthy change being a simple wooden door that the Shadow Commando had helped install. It was better than nothing. As he entered James casually nodded to the various members of Mischief acting as guards, the infused rodents doing the closest they could to a salute by standing on their hindlegs and placing a paw on their heart. Although there were multiple cells in this prison, only one had ever been occupied. The slumped bulky form of Grover was recognizable through the bars, though the time spent hidden away in the dark with the bare minimum of food had undoubtedly left its mark. James saw the man raise his head, and a few seconds later a rough voice came out of his parched throat. "Silhouette..." "Hello, Grover." "Haven''t seen you... In a while..." "I have been quite busy, growing my forces while dealing with your boss'' assaults." "Ah... Wanna use me... As a hostage?" "No, no. From my encounters with his elite forces, I do not believe Runar would care about you if it meant getting me. No, I just wanted to see you to discuss the end of your imprisonment." "What... Do you mean?" "I don''t need you anymore, and truth be told I haven''t for a while, I was just too busy to handle it. I don''t want to waste forces guarding a nearly empty jail, so I''m getting rid of you. How, however, is up to you." "How?" "I can''t let you go, you know too much. So, here''s the choice I offer: join me via the same method Solvent did, or die. Whichever one you pick, I''ll respect your choice." "Live as a puppet... Or die in the dark..." "I don''t have all day, Grover." "Death... Lets me stay me... So go ahead... Silhouette..." James stared at the broken man in silence before a tentacle rose from the darkness of the cell. "Any preference?" "Through the head..." James nodded, and before the prisoner could react a black spike emerged between his eyes as bone fragments and cerebrospinal fluid flew and covered the ground. With the support of the tentacle through his skull, Grover''s body didn''t fall, at least not until James removed his appendage. The corpse hit the ground with a thump, and James shook his limb a few times to clean it before merging it back with the rest of his body. Finally, James addressed the Mischief members. "Do as you wish with the body. If there''s a Core in there, bring it to the workshop." The rats nodded, and with the help of his new trick, James was gone. Chapter 95 : The doctor meets a guy Dane shivered in their hospital bed. They couldn''t remember how long it had been since they first woke up in these very sheets with a cast over their right leg, but they were sure it was too long. For a child who loved to run and jump around in the slums, being stuck like this was one of the most harrowing experiences possible, and as a homeless orphan living in the slums, they had pretty high standards! Really, in recent memory, the only things worse than that had been Igne putting her bladed limbs on their throat, and... Dane looked down at the white cast covering their blue skin and didn''t dare to imagine the state of the bones within their leg. But hey, being stuck here had its upsides! They got to eat three meals every day, and they got to sleep under a nice roof, away from the cold! The lady in charge of the place was very nice too, she had even cleaned all of Dane''s clothes and hadn''t questioned them when they asked her for enough stuff to cover all of their skin until they could put their old clothes back on - which wouldn''t be for a while with that dumb cast in the way. Dane had sworn to themself they would never tell anyone about whatever they discovered about her. Not only that, but if she ever asked them about something, Dane would give her a discount! 10%, they still had to eat after all. "Knock knock." Dane turned to look at the entrance to the room they were in, there wasn''t any door but the nice lady liked to pretend to knock anyway, to let Dane choose if she could come in or not. She looked a little weird with her feathers, scales, horns, green head, and toothy yellow beak, but Dane didn''t mind. People always said they looked weird too. "Enter!" Doctor Beatrice Drake stepped into the room, her large palms in her custom shoes gently slapping on the ground, and approached Dane''s bed. "Is everything well, Dane?" The child nodded, their scarf - the piece of clothing they were the most thankful they could wear despite the cast - flopping around with every movement of their head. "Yup! Is it time to eat yet?" "No, no, I just wanted to check up on you." Dane wasn''t a doctor, but even they could tell the nice lady came to see them more often than she needed, to the point it might be detrimental to the handling of other patients. The clinic they were in was also incredibly silent, and with their incredible detective skills, Dane had determined that maybe there weren''t many people who came here. They remembered listening to people who said that healing stuff was expensive, and Guy had always told them it was better to come back with no news than with a broken arm. Maybe it was why? "Is everything fine, Dane? How is your leg feeling?" "Yeaaah. When can I get out of here again?" The doctor grimaced as best as her beak allowed her, which mostly translated into a sharp intake of air mixed with barring her sharper features. "With the state your leg is in? I don''t think you''re fit to go out for at least a month, and even after that, you should keep your cast on for a few more." Seeing the child deflate at her words to the point she could almost see the joy and hope getting sucked out of them, Beatrice tried to cheer them back up. "Don''t make that face now, you can stay here until you''re fully healed if you want. Plus, the end of your recovery period will be all about rehabilitation, so that''ll be some fun activity right?" The covered head tilted to the side. "What''s rehabilitation?" "Well, if you don''t do something for a long time, you become more clumsy with it." "Oh. So I won''t walk as well?" "That''s what''s rehabilitation for, to help you get back to normal. Dane, I promise you, you''ll be good as new - so long as you listen to me and don''t do anything stupid, like trying to remove your cast to scratch an itch for example." Dane coughed in their hand and turned their head, avoiding the doctor''s gaze, which made her chuckle until she heard the front door opening. "I have to leave you now Dane, I have work to do. I''ll try to be quick." Still looking away from her the child grumbled in acknowledgment, Beatrice lightly shook her head before putting her palmed feet to work to go as fast as possible to the entrance without outright running. Thankfully her little clinic was, well, on the smaller side of things. It wasn''t long before she reached the front desk to see two individuals waiting around, one was a familiar youthful bandaged face, one who had essentially become a regular since he had to come by once a week to treat his burns, but the other was a stranger, an old human man with white hair and a green cap, though based on what the little one had said she could guess as to who it might be. The two of them appeared to be talking before she arrived, and they turned as one when they heard the flapping of her white shoes on the ground. She idly noted neither looked surprised, to be expected from an old patient but notable for someone who saw her for the first time. "Techlord, good to see you. And who is this friend of yours?" "Hello, doc. Allow me to introduce-" The old man ignored the teen, much to the latter''s frustration, and walked forward and offered Beatrice his hand with a smile. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Why hello there Doctor Drake, it''s a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Guy. It has come to my attention that you''ve been taking care of one of my prot¨¦g¨¦s, and I must thank you, I never could forgive myself if anything happened to my dear little Dane. Is there anything I could do to repay you?" Beatrice empathized with Techlord''s eye roll. She did have something to say to this Guy, however. "Well, to start things off, mister Guy, you could pay the medical bills of the little one instead of this mysterious ''Silhouette'' I''ve heard so much about." "Ah, well doctor it just so happens that he is my employer so-" She ignored his answer and stepped closer as he stepped back. "Next, you could avoid sending a child out to spy on dangerous armed thugs." "I-I had explicitly told Dane not to-" She went up to him and tapped her - thankfully for him - blunt claw against his chest. "And last but not least, you could visit your ''dear little Dane'' at least a day after their admission, and not WEEKS AFTER THE FACTS!" The old man shrunk on himself, his face dripping with sweat as his gaze kept switching between the doctor''s claws and her eyes, the small orange slit irises within surely proving themselves useful for once. Although she was very tempted to share more of what she thought of him with Guy, Techlord''s fake cough reminded her they weren''t alone in the room, and that she had a patient to take care of. "Techlord, you and I will accompany mister Guy to see Dane. Once they''re done, we''ll escort him out before we begin with your treatment." "Do we have to, doc?" "I don''t want to leave my patients alone with outside elements. You never know what a curious hand might do, isn''t that right, mister Guy?" The man looked ready to respond before Beatrice flexed her claws. "I-It''s fine, Techlord. Besides, it''s not like anything I have to tell Dane is secret. I do not mind the good doctor watching." "Fine, but make it quick. I have a lot of work to do, those fancy new gadgets won''t make themselves. Not yet, anyway." Beatrice ignored their banter and simply walked towards Dane''s room, only stopping after a few steps when she noticed neither of the two was following her and exasperatedly motioning them with her feathered arm to hurry up. And as much as it annoyed her, Dane looked just as happy as she assumed they would when they saw Guy. The blue child had a complicated relationship with the man from what they had told her, but overall they saw him as an example to follow, as much as he annoyed them. She had hoped he was some sort of a parental figure, which would explain the mix of aggravation and adoration, but the time it took for him to get here and the way he acted now crashed her hopes. He was the manipulative opportunist she had feared he would be, and nothing good would come out of his relationship with Dane. Despite their earlier talk Dane almost jumped off their bed despite their cast as soon as the old man with a green cap approached, and the only reason they weren''t actually on the ground was that they were having some trouble and were caught in the bedsheets. "Guy!" Guy smiled but put his hand on Dane''s shoulder, using some force to keep them down in the bed. "Now, now, Dane. I''m sure the doctor told you to be nice and stay calm, right?" "Yeah, yeah. You took a while!" For the first time that day, Beatrice saw something other than faked joy or nervousness on Guy''s face. This time, he had a serious and stern look, and judging by the way Dane shrunk on themselves, it didn''t mean anything good. "Dane, I have been quite busy, working for someone who should be very angry right now. Do you know who I''ve been working for?" "No...?" "Can you guess, then? Have a hint, someone I told you to leave alone, and yet you followed." "Uh... Silhouette?" "Indeed, Silhouette. The one who, generously, decided to save you after you tried to sell them out to one of their enemies, an enemy that I strictly forbade you all from interacting with at all, at the same time as I ordered you all to keep all matters related to Silhouette secret." Beatrice didn''t like the way this conversation was going, and she didn''t like how much force this man was putting on this child''s shoulder, a little more at every word. She was about to interrupt when she felt Techlord''s hand around her scaly orange wrist and turned to look at the teen, wordlessly asking him what he was doing. "You have trampled over every rule I set, and almost got yourself killed over it. I am very disappointed with you, Dane, more so than usual. You should be very thankful that our new employer decided to save you, to pay for you to be healed, and to insist that I do not give up on you. You are to remain here until you are fully healed, at which point I will come here to escort you to your new job. No more running in the streets for you." Although much of their face was hidden, the shaking of their shoulders, the weird hiccup-like noise they made, and the redness in what little could be seen of their eyes were more than enough to know Dane was crying. It only took a few seconds before they finally gave in and stopped holding back their sobs, and Beatrice would have run to them to hug them tight if Techlord wasn''t still holding her hand. Guy for his part turned his back to the child and walked out of the room, only stopping at the doorway to address the doctor and the teen. "I''ll be going now. I know where the exit is." The slits in the doctor''s eyes shrunk and glowed with righteous fury. "As I SAID, WE will be ESCORTING you out." Guy gulped but didn''t complain any further, and this time Techlord let go of her and silently followed as she grabbed onto Guy''s wrist and dragged him away, the old man having no choice but to follow if he didn''t want to fall, struggling to resist the dragon and duck hybrid''s strength. As much as it pained Beatrice to leave a crying child behind, getting rid of this man was more important. Before long they were at the door and she unceremoniously threw Guy out by the wrist, he barely caught himself from falling before she closed the door on his face and locked it. Done with him, doctor Drake turned around to address Techlord, a single word escaping her beak. "Why?" The teen took in a deep breath before answering, raising one finger as he did. "One, the kid needed to hear they screwed up. I don''t like Guy, but he set up rules for his little spies for a reason. He''s right to think the kid nearly killed themself with their stupidity, and it''s better to make sure they realize that now than risk them doing something stupid again." A second finger. "It doesn''t take a genius to realize you''re not from these parts, doc, because most people wouldn''t be so defensive of the kid. You have a good heart, but if they want to survive out there, they need to stay in a do-or-die mindset, not every stranger will want what''s best for them. If you spoil them like a city kid, they''ll fall for a trap set up by one of the weirdos out there. They''re already living on their own out there, they''re used to crying alone, if you start hugging them now they''ll get used to it after a few months, but what happens when they''re back out there? Will you be there to hug them the next time they have a crisis, out in a house that''s falling apart, surrounded by monsters?" Another. "Lastly, I know what our boss has planned for the kid, trust me, it''s better than what Guy wanted them to do. Chances are he''ll have the oldest of Guy''s kids take over the business here and force them to manage things differently, while the young ones will go somewhere safe. He''s a softy like that. So yeah, that little threat at the end? As much as they might hate it, staying clear from the streets is probably what''s best for them." Techlord lowered his hand. "You''re a good person doc, but helping people grow here isn''t the same as helping them in the city." Doctor Drake stared at the bandaged teen for a moment that felt like an eternity before stepping away. "Come now, we have burns to treat." "Uh... You''re not going to be rougher on me because of all that, right?" She ignored him and kept walking. "... Right?" Chapter 96 : Shadow fight James took in a deep breath and readied himself in a fencer''s pose, his extended right arm holding a dark blade, his left at his back, and his legs spread in such a way his feet formed an angle, and suddenly thrust forward to pierce his opponent''s heart, only for a familiar black humanoid to step back before swatting away at his blade with its own black sword. James stepped back and turned to the side before slashing at his opponent''s arm, the faceless dark thing lifting back its weapon at an angle to block the hit and deflect it before it went on to pursue, stepping closer to James and striking again with its blade, and though James managed to block the first hit his opponent didn''t relent and kept on attacking and advancing, slowly but surely driving James against the wall. As soon as his back literally touched the infused bricks of his sewers lair''s training room, James melted into the wall before emerging from the ceiling as a massive spike that his opponent silently sidestepped before slashing at it, James'' hardened form received the blade with a clung but the act still messed with his fall and sent him to the side where he turned into a small arrow of black gas to speed up and rejoin the wall where he disappeared once more. His opponent stood still, its blade crossed over its chest, ready to block any surprise attack. When the tips of the spikes that James formed in its shadow rose, the humanoid turned at once and jumped back to avoid them, playing right into James'' trap as he emerged from the ceiling once more, this time as a gigantic swinging axe that was headed straight to his opponent''s waist. Stuck midair, there was no way for it to evade this attack... That is until a burst of air escaped from its back and sent it flying toward the wall from which it pushed itself with its feet to redirect itself toward James. As soon as it finished pushing itself off the wall and its feet left the black bricks that composed it, another burst of air escaped from its back and sent it straight to James, its weapon ready to slash at him. James barely had the time to shift from being an axe to returning to a more humanoid form with his own blade to parry his opponent''s strike, but even so, the momentum it had gathered was more than enough to overwhelm him and send his sword flying, the weapon dissolving into shadows as soon as it left James'' grasp. James grunted and shifted to the side, just in time to avoid the following strike from his now grounded opponent before forming a tentacle ending in a sharp sickle-like form to block the following attack, his limb elongating to grasp onto its blade and keep it in place while the sickle went for its head. The black humanoid didn''t falter and raised its free hand, revealing a small dark dagger it used to deflect the sickle and then cut the tentacle''s base, the dismembered limb fading away as the fencer''s sword was freed. Rather than press on its advantage, the figure jumped back and repositioned itself, its blade extended to the side as it fiddled with its dagger, alternating between holding it to stab and to slash. James mirrored its choice, rather than rush mindlessly he took a step back and shifted his form, this time returning to his Silhouette guise, with dozens of tentacles at the ready at the base of his body, reaching out from the ground. Silence reigned as the two faceless fighters stared at each other for some long seconds until at last one dared to act. With another burst of air escaping from its back, the humanoid threw itself at James, though its blade only met empty air as he turned into a cloud of gas on its upper half and dispersed, before his gaseous part quickly merged back into the base of his torso, just in time for balls of dark energies to form around the two fighters before they all converged to James'' opponent. The humanoid didn''t even try to fight them off and instead used another burst of air to jump out of the way only to be caught off guard as all of the spheres it would have passed by turned into crosses, spikes of much more unstable energy emerging from the balls and standing in the humanoid''s way. The momentum of its air burst made it move too quickly to have the time to try anything else, and it couldn''t stop itself from impacting this new obstacle. James held back a grunt as his clone went into his altered Shadow Balls and got shredded by the raw magic that escaped from them. His shadow magic shenanigans hurt him much less than the Titaroach''s electricity or the enchanted blades of Pierce Evil but suffering so much damage at the same time still stung. James released his focus and let the magic attack fade away, just as the shadowy matter he had used to form his clone and its blades returned to him. Controlling two "bodies" at once was weird, but not any stranger than his usual state of matter shifting or mass of tentacles tricks. The only difficulty was finding a way to keep the two bodies connected, since any part of James that was separated from him just dissolved into darkness before melting back into him. A solid tendril connecting the two would have complicated the training, but in hindsight, the solution was pretty obvious. He just had to make sure their shadows formed one, even if it meant twisting it beyond what should be naturally possible. This wasn''t about tricking people, for now, it was just for him to have a sparring partner. Training with oneself may not exactly be as effective as training with a professional, but the existence of shadowboxing showed it still helped improve. Plus, as far as he was aware, none of James'' employees or infused had a similar fighting style to Pierce Evil''s, so mimicking it himself was the best he could do. He had trouble reaching the same speeds the golden knight had shown, but what he could imitate was enough to start developing strategies better than just throwing more tentacles at the problem. He still had a few more spells he wanted to get a better grasp of before the inevitable return of Runar''s minion, but he was already happy with what he had come up with so far. Getting hit by his own spells was also a good way to train his pain resistance, which was a notable bonus. Hopefully, it would prevent him from being distracted by the pain of getting shredded with a magic sword. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "A remarkable display, master." Although he didn''t need to turn to see his loyal minion - as much as the word felt uncomfortable - James preferred to do so anyway to show Mischief''s leader he had his attention. "Why thank you, Polisson." The old rat hummed at James'' response from where he sat on his haunches, perched atop one of the contraptions for the parkour course the rats liked to use. After his initial infusion, all of the drawbacks of aging disappeared from the rat, leaving behind a body in its prime covered in black fur with purple highlights with years of wisdom and experience beyond what most rats could ever hope to achieve. The small ocean-blue eyes of the rodent were fixed on James, and the dark energy of the shadowy claw that replaced its missing front paw flowed smoothly, with an occasional spike that turned its abnormally pointy digits into knives before shrinking back. "I assume that is not all you have to say?" "No, it is not. If I may, master?" James nodded, curious as to what the usually discreet leader of his rat army had to say. "I believe there is a fundamental flaw in the way you fight." "Oh?" "It is natural, coming from one such as yourself, a creature of reason. All that I have seen so far obliviously suffer from it too, bar perhaps the young Techlord, but he so rarely has the time to train I can''t be sure. But as one born as a creature of instinct? Of teeth and fangs and claws? I noticed it after some time, and that is thanks to your gift, for it gave me enough reason to think further than ever before." "Enough of the compliments, what is this flaw you speak of?" "To put bluntly, master, you think too much." Eh? "Could you elaborate, Polisson?" The rat nodded, his muzzle twitching all the while. "I have heard the tale of your duel with the demon, and-" "From whom?" "One of ours who went to the Sunken City. Us rodents are quite social, so listening to gossip was all too natural. Good ears and a boisterous Commando were all it took for the tale to spread amongst our ranks. Worry not master, I already made sure this story and any other we might hear will never be spoken to anyone, especially not in words a loose ear might understand." "I hope so. I didn''t recruit you to gossip, after all. You are a force hidden in the shadows of the sewers, it should be unthinkable for an information leak to come from Mischief." "I solemnly swear it shall never happen, master. But to get back on track, I heard of how the fight occurred, and after watching you train for some days now, I am certain of my guess. You fight like all humans, master, you think, and so you do one thing at a time. You either attack physically or attack magically and if you appear to do both at the same time it is only a trick to fool your opponent." "And your point is?" "Master, you can split into two different entities and fight against yourself, yet never do you use the same tactic against your enemies. That stream of thought that goes into controlling a puppet for you to fight or a tendril to attack one of your children while others attack others, this stream of thought could be using magic instead. Don''t choose between clashing swords with your opponent or impaling them with spears of darkness, do both. You have shown you could do different things at the same time by fighting different opponents simultaneously, why not use this ability in duels?" James stayed silent as he considered Polisson''s words. The rodent waited patiently for what he had to say, the energy that composed his claw much calmer than it had been previously now that he had said what he had to. Try as he might, James couldn''t find any way to deny Polisson''s analysis. His subordinate was right, James was more than fine with controlling different "bodies" now and then, like when he had made that bunch of snakes for the ratlings to fight. Although he tended to focus on one thing at a time, he still could easily manage handling different opponents all around him, just like how he preferred to imitate a human''s senses despite being able to feel a lot more around him all at once constantly. Hell, he technically did practice casting spells while attacking physically whenever he trained his "bouncing" spike trick, after all, he had to aim himself and his spells while choosing the right angle to emerge from the shadows to "bounce" again. Really, the only thing holding him back from constantly splitting his attention was... I default to thinking like a human, even if I''ve learned how to use this body. James stayed silent some more as he thought about what he could do to improve. Exercise after exercise went through his mind, and already he tried thinking about multiple ones at the same time, for trying to change a habit was a battle of every moment. Finally, after making up his mind, he addressed Polisson. "Thank you for your insight, Polisson. In the future, I''d appreciate it if, like now, you keep those suggestions between us two. Now, I do believe you have matters to attend to." "Yes, master. I will leave you to your training. Do you have any specific task you wish for me to have Mischief handle? Any resource to locate, threat to terminate, individual to observe? Or should I resume my usual duties?" "Do you believe anyone among your ranks could be fit to scout Runar''s outposts and headquarters? Perhaps trail his workers, while you are at it. The thugs I converted had some information to share, but I doubt any of them knew truly important secrets and details." "I shall handle this matter personally, master. Your will shall be done." Polisson jumped off from his perch and landed gracefully on the ground before scuttering away, a sight James was sure would have unsettled him not so long ago, especially without the dark vision he now possessed. Well. Guess it''s time to get back to it, and this time I need to remember to split my attention. Getting unused to a human way of thinking will be a pain... Chapter 97 : Packages Atop a relatively impressive building in the slums, in a much better state than its neighbors, was the office of the man who''d call himself the number one expert in runes this side of the country. Whether that title was true was questionable, but what was certain was that no one in Zalcien could ever hope to rival Runar in that field. For once the man of elven descent wasn''t drinking tea or handling the mountain of paperwork on his desk. No, under the sunny sky of this beautiful day the man in a yellow three-piece suit and a blue tie was simply taking in the sight of the package in front of him. It wasn''t anything particularly impressive, a mere box wrapped in brown paper with a few differently colored stamps on it, roughly the size of his torso. Runar idly scratched at his grey beard, his long equally grey hair barely affected by the gentle breeze that blew that day. As steps echoed up the stairs to reach the roof, he closed his pale blue eyes and took in a deep breath before sighing just as the door opened and a knight in plain golden armor approached his desk, the metal of the armor and the hilts of the sword and dagger he carried clinking as he carried a tray with a teacup on it with little to no grace, the porcelain container nearly falling off multiple times. Runar didn''t even bother to open his eyes to address the newcomer. "You are late, Pierce Evil." "My apologies my lord, but armors are ill-suited for menial tasks such as carrying tea up multiple flights of stairs." "Yet Karadok manages, Pierce Evil. You would benefit from learning from your senior." The blonde man huffed behind his helm, and Runar''s pointy ears lightly twitched as they caught the sound, but there was no need to act on it. Workers disliking tasks was to be expected, and so long as they didn''t cause trouble there was no problem. Still, this one was a special case. Runar finally opened his eyes as he picked the teacup off the tray, and he noticed the way his Runarian knight''s head was slightly turned to the side and his torso slightly bent forward, and thanks to his runic contact lenses he could see through the darkness of the brass helmet the eyes of his subordinate fixated on the package on his desk. "That was genuine advice, Pierce Evil. Karadok has a lot of experience, there is a reason why I trust him to handle so much of this little venture. He not only has the brain to manage large-scale operations but also the brawn to defend himself. My only regret is that he lacks the talent for magic and runes." "If you say so, my lord. Say, this wouldn''t happen to be-" "Your new enchanted armor? No, it isn''t completed yet, and it won''t be for a few more weeks. And before you ask, to get the best out of its enchantments they need to be done at the same time, so no, you can''t take ''what''s already done'' until the rest is finished." "My lord, I wouldn''t be so foolish as to think this could contain an entire suit of armor. I know you wouldn''t bother to apply space runes to a mere package. No, I wanted to ask if this was related to Karadok''s... Commission." The disgust in Pierce Evil''s last word was barely hidden, and it was understandable. The common man had every right to despise and fear and be repulsed by the Patcher''s work, but those in power knew better. Just as runes were a science and an art, so were the pariah''s creations. That, and the man had talents beyond creating horrors that went against the laws of nature. "No, the Patcher cares too much about his little projects to send their parts away. From what Karadok told me, he will instead give his creature the ability to expose its bones, so that we may work on it at our leisure here. No, this is... Something I didn''t expect." "You haven''t opened it yet, my lord." "Runic lenses, I do not need to open it to see what''s inside." "Why don''t we have those?" "Tristare does, the rest of you don''t because they are very expensive to make and you don''t need them for the jobs you are tasked with." The golden knight rolled his eyes, to be expected considering his relationship with the intelligence-focused knight. The two rarely saw eye to eye. Truth be told, Pierce Evil didn''t get along with any of the other Runarian knights, bar maybe Speareau, and even then their relationship was simply that of coworkers, not friends. The only thing that justified the duellist''s place in this elite group was his fighting skills, but with his latest stunt and current attitude, it grew more and more obvious that wouldn''t suffice for much longer. Truly, only the man himself had failed to realize this. "So, what''s inside, my lord? What could possibly unsettle you so?" For a brief moment, as he took a sip of his tea, Runar considered telling his subordinate to just get out of there and leave him alone. However, he saw an opportunity to teach this loyal yet unruly knight a lesson. A reminder of his place in the food chain, and his true worth. "This package, my dear Pierce Evil, comes from the Arthen estate. Ever since my choice of career and tutelage under my master, my family had cut all ties, hence why receiving anything from them is a surprise." "I understand, my lord. But what does it contain?" Memories flashed in Runar''s mind, and he closed his eyes to better reminisce on this bittersweet past. "The remains of the first Runarian knights." The pointed ears of the crime boss caught the way the knight in brass armor''s heartbeat suddenly accelerated. "... Pardon me, my lord?" This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. "It is tradition for each child of the Arthen family to have an order of knights at their command, with the exact number going higher and higher as they rack up achievements. In this package are the urns containing the ashes of my first five knights, those who watched me grow into adulthood and raised me more than my parents ever did. Karadok, Worsen, Gowine, Gwalchaved, and Hunbaut." His eyes still closed, Runar passed his free hand over the packaging paper. "Five great men, above and beyond what any of these ruffians in this accursed city could ever hope to be. Even the Karadok you know, for all his talents, has yet to reach his granduncle''s level. I wouldn''t go as far as to say any of them would have been able to fell Sunburn, but they without a doubt would have ensured those old leeches from Wicked Witchcraft wouldn''t dare exile me like this." "What happened, then?" Runar''s eyes opened at once. "They met their better." He rose from his leather seat and stepped up to Pierce Evil. "As great as they were, they were nothing compared to some of the monsters that roam this world. Monsters too preoccupied with things that truly matter to care about this miserable pile of stone and metal you call home. Sunburn is the closest thing you could compare them to, so picture that in your mind. Places where people like him are not the top dogs, just henchmen doing grunt work." He took one last sip of his tea to empty before putting the empty cup back on its plate on the tray the knight carried. "You are capable, Pierre, but your talent with a sword doesn''t mean a thing if you do not have the brain to know which fights to pick. Learn when to give up, when to be subservient to those that can destroy you on a whim. Don''t let your pride kill you." The knight in his golden brass armor stayed silent before bowing slightly. "I will leave you to your work, my lord." Without waiting for an answer Pierce Evil turned around and walked away, disappearing from Runar''s view as he went down the stairs to his office. The elvish man sighed, giving up all hope of keeping the rash knight as a long-term subordinate, before returning to his seat and finally opening the package, brown paper burning away at the press of a hidden rune to reveal a simple wooden box, kept closed with a strange steel contraption, a locket with no lock or apparent mechanism. An old family trick, Runar flicked his wrist to reveal a small needle hidden in his right sleeve, he quickly pricked his left ring finger on it, a drop of blood emerging from the rupture in his skin, a drop which he quickly pressed onto the locket, the steel immediately splitting in two and the lid of the box propping open immediately, almost flying off. Another trick, meant to distract anyone who could be holding an Arthen hostage and forcing them to open a lock against their will. Within, embedded in enchanted red velvet, were the five silver urns he had commissioned years ago, each engraved with its knight''s figure and accomplishments. In the middle, close to the locket, where a sixth urn would have been, was instead a square paper with a few words, written in his sister''s beautiful cursive style with golden ink. We are renovating the family crypt. Since you won''t be using your spot, you can have those back. He began to move his hand to touch the closest one, depicting an orc with a massive claymore, but at the last moment, he couldn''t bring himself to touch the cold metal. He stared in silence at those ash-filled containers for a long minute before he pressed another hidden rune on his desk, this one locking the door to his office and blurring the magical shield that preserved the roof from the elements, turning it into a proper room for once. Isolated from the world, Runar finally allowed himself to shed a tear, in memory of those that had been killed for their loyalty to him. The fools that had dared to duel his father''s knights in the hope they could win back his position in the family. "Glory to thy blades, valiant knights." The wood of the desk beneath his face became wetter and wetter. With a hit of his knee against the desk''s underside, a bottle of dark green glass emerged from a hidden compartment beneath the floor. He needed something stronger than tea right now.
Maurice, Dak, and G, the trio of scouts from the police department in charge of keeping an eye on the slums and preventing its horrors from spreading to the rest of the city, were back on a building''s roof, this time with no makeshift camp, to observe the newcomer known as Silhouette. They hadn''t missed his little show the other day when he did his recruiting stunt. People that are resistant to bullets weren''t as rare as one might think, but straight-up immunity? That was a trick usually reserved for the big players, or the mercenaries that worked for them. In both cases, that was Super territory. This and his little shop made the shadowy man a very curious and interesting actor, and although he was still low on the list of people who could cause trouble, their direct boss had quickly become as intrigued as them, and from what they said, pondered making him a priority subject to her higher-ups. As was most common, Maurice was in charge of keeping an eye on the warehouse and its surroundings, but unlike their initial operation, G and Dak weren''t filling paperwork or sudokus this time. They too were on the lookout, watching out for any possible shenanigans that might pop up. "Maurice-" "Nothing so far, Dak." "You know he''d warn us otherwise, Dak." "Sorry G, I''m just a little tense about the weird shadow man who could be watching us right now." G was very tempted to roll his eyes at the tall woman''s worries, but not only would it stop him from watching over his surroundings, a tiny, very faint part of him sort of emphasized with her. Not that he would admit it. "Stop your paranoia, Maurice could tell anyway." "I couldn''t, actually. If he sneaked by, I wouldn''t know until he acted, and even then I could miss it." G groaned at that. "Please, don''t say that while I''m trying to be reassuring." Maurice shrugged while still holding his binoculars to his eyes. "Accurate data is better than feeling safe. If anything, being on edge keeps you focused and keeps you from growing complacent." "You heard him, G. Mister tentacles could be under our feet and we wouldn''t know." "Yeah, I caught that, Dak." Sensing his colleagues'' stress, Maurice decided to give them something. "Even if he were listening, the chances of him attacking us are low. It wouldn''t line up with how he acted so far. As far as we know, Silhouette has never started a fight. He only finishes them. And judging by how his employees are treated, I''d extrapolate that he''s rather tolerant, even generous. He also has the brains not to antagonize an official city organization. Someone like him should know that attacking the police would put him on lists he''d rather not be." "He still made an enemy out of Runar, that''s not very smart." The short man with the future vision grunted in acknowledgment of Dak''s words. "Which is why we''re here, to know what kind of person he truly is, to check if we should consider him a threat in the making or a potential ally here. My analysis could be flawed, and in truth, he could be a complete idiot with murderous tendencies but excellent acting. Which is why collecting data is important." G was about to respond when he noticed unusual movement. "Runar goon incoming, holding a package of sorts." The other two were tempted to turn around, but if they did it would ruin their triangular disposition to see as much as they collectively could. Maurice did speak out, however. "I see him." It was only two seconds later that the thug left G''s view, but the trio had gotten used to coordinating with Maurice''s future vision. "Anything interesting to report?" "He''s knocking. He just dropped the package and began running." His eyes widened behind his mask. "Explosion incoming." Chapter 98 : Warehouse work It had been a week now since they had all been recruited by the newest face on the Black Block - not that he actually had a face, so far as they knew. They had all been looking for work, most of them had dropped by his shop at least once to see if they weren''t hiring, and after the little gathering they were invited to and their respective interviews, they were the lucky few who made the cut. And, truth be told, they were a weird bunch. Bob, the stupidly tall frogman with muscles that would make a minotaur blush, a man of few words with an odd way to speak, undoubtedly the strongest among them, and the best at handling the crates. If someone were to get an employee of the month award, it would be him. Ellie Bell, a woman barely smaller and less muscular than Bob, a former member and sole survivor of a small gang named Merry Mess. She loved to laugh at anything and the fact her right hand had been replaced with a metal hook didn''t stop her from being the second best at handling the crates, right behind Bob, her sole functional hand more than strong enough to do the work of two people on her own. Elen Gurt, a much smaller and lithe woman, she could easily pass for a teen, she could never dream to carry even one empty crate but her mind proved to be a very impressive tool, she was the one whose voice mattered the most after Silhouette and the two bosses in charge of the warehouse, and even then those two didn''t mind following her suggestions. She always looked awfully happy to be at her desk at the entrance, and no matter what, she was always here first in the morning and always the last to stay, bar the strange completely black and grey humanoids that brought stuff in and out of the central room, where the magic supposedly happened. At this point, the "regular" workers had unanimously agreed those were probably some sort of construct, some kind of magical summons or homunculi like the ones Wicked Witchcraft tended to use. Claude Puma, a gender-bent clone who had managed to build his own life hidden away in the slums. He was a very charming and friendly fellow, and incredibly curious to boot. Perhaps too curious. Snowflake, the diminutive pale humanoid with long ears and nose and short scraggly white hair - even he wasn''t sure what exactly he was, having never met his parents, but whether he was some sort of goblin or fae or gnome descendent didn''t matter to him, for he wanted to be his own man. He was quite sure of himself and his power, despite it only offering him an improved sense of smell, though it was undeniably impressive that he could easily notice and recognize people in the warehouse without even seeing or hearing them just by the scents they carried. And lastly, there was Mop Skybreaker, the most normal man the rest of them had ever met, so normal in fact that he ironically became the weirdest of the bunch. Well, Mop was the last of the new employees. There were the things they assumed to be constructs, although they mostly did their own thing and only interacted with the small group whenever they had to help move something, as well as the two managers of the warehouse, a black goblin shaman and a wolfman with ebony fur and claws. Both were the strong silent type and only spoke when addressed or giving out orders. Usually at least one of them watched over the workers while the other stayed in the inner room of the warehouse, but sometimes both were out at the same time, or on the contrary, both stayed in the workshop, leaving the new guys unsupervised. Those moments were rare, and most of the time it was during breaks. It was during one of those unsupervised moments, during their lunch break specifically, that Claude addressed his coworkers in his suave voice after brushing his hair back with his free hand, the other too busy holding a small elongated sandwich. "Say, guys, what do you think they''re doing in there all day?" Elen, still sitting at her desk, looked up from her salad - with no eggs, for her neighbor''s operation had disgusted her from even chicken eggs. "Making things, as all workshops do, I presume." Mop took a bite out of his own sandwich and chewed on it as he nodded, while Snowflake took a sip of the soup he kept in his thermos before giving his opinion. "Yup, it''s what makes sense, so it''s probably the truth." "Come on, you know what I mean. If they were just building stuff in there we wouldn''t be forbidden from going in." Bob and Ellie looked up from their shared meal of roasted bugs - mainly giant locusts, each as long as a human forearm, spread out on the large square of cloth Bob had used as a bag to bring them - just as the towering green amphibian man finished swallowing whole one of the cooked insects and Ellie raised one to her mouth impaled on her hook, lowering her meal-to-be at Claude''s words. "Ribbit. Danger forbid. Ribbit." "Yeah, like he said. Sometimes there''s no big secret my dude, just dangerous work that only qualified people should handle. How do you think I got this shiny thing, eh?" She took a bite of the locust''s side. "Beshide, you''re ashking an awful lot of queshtions, ya know? Not shure the bosh would appreshiate." "Ribbit. Talking and chewing. Ribbit." Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "Whoops, sorry Bob." The frogman hummed before his tongue struck out and snatched another bug for him to engulf, and Elen was proud that she only shivered a bit at that before she focused back on Claude. "But she got a point, Claude. Asking questions is never smart. If Silhouette wanted us to know what goes in that room, he would tell us." Snowflake sagely nodded. "Just like he would write an autobiography if he wanted us to know more about him." The lithe woman raised a finger and opened her mouth to speak, before she stopped herself, and ultimately lowered her hand back down to her fork. "I hate the fact he''s not completely wrong." Claude rolled his eyes before gesturing to the others with his sandwich. "Come on, I can''t be the only one curious. It''s not every day someone so unique and with enough power to cement themself as a real threat appears, especially not out of nowhere. Like, one day there are rumors of something in the sewers, and the next thing you know there''s an entirely new faction on the Block with weapons strong enough to chase away more established gangs. It''s like the boss just manifested." Snowflake took another sip of his soup. "Meh, I''ve heard weirder things. Have you heard about that mystery monster in the main city? I think it was called the Nightsnatcher or something. Anyway, no one has ever seen it, and the only reason they even know it exists is that one of its victims was on the phone and accidentally interrupted its last meal. There''s nothing left when it''s done, and they have no idea where it came from." Bob sagely nodded. "Ribbit. Storks reign in the pond. Ribbit." Ellie swallowed the mouthful of the bug she just finished chewing. "Right, as the big guy said, some predators are terrifying from the prey''s perspective, especially if that predator lives and moves in completely different ways from what they eat. That Nightsnatcher thingy is probably an alien or something that ended up here somehow. Probably an abyssal, now that I think about it. It would explain the whole mysterious vibe." Claude considered her words before an idea wormed its way into his mind. "Say, do you think that, maybe..." Elen raised her fork from her salad to point it at him. "You better not finish this sentence." "I''m not saying the boss is the Nightsnatcher, don''t worry about that. That thing''s in the main city anyway, while the boss is here. No, I was just thinking, maybe he''s an abyssal too? As you said, those things have a knack for mysteries and creepy vibes. It would explain his whole tentacle and shadows shtick." For once, it was Mop who rebuked Claude. "Nah, that''s just an exaggeration. My mom worked for an abyssal once, and it told her the tentacles and shadows stuff wasn''t as widespread as people say. It told her something about how ''not all reptiles are snakes'' I think." Ellie hummed as she took a smaller bite out of her locust which she quickly swallowed. "Yeah, makes sense. Besides, even if it turns out the boss is an abyssal, what then? It doesn''t change anything. I mean, Maltodextrin is an alien squid and no one minds her being there. I don''t even think abyssals have a common weakness or anything of the sort, so it really wouldn''t change a thing." Bob croaked. "Ribbit. No question, no problem. Ribbit." Ellie rolled her eyes and took another bite of the thing impaled on her hook. Claude, for his part, sighed dramatically as he posed like a diva on the crate he sat on. "Oh, woe me. If talking while we eat is such a big problem, I can just stay silent." Elen huffed while Snowflake chuckled. "Come on, man. You''re a funny guy, it''s nice talking with you, we just don''t want to make the big boss mad. I mean, what would you do if the two bosses came out of their room right now just to tell you to shut it?" Bob and Ellie exchanged a look and the woman bent back to take a glance at the door to the inner section of the warehouse, just to be sure. Claude lightly shook his head at his coworker''s words. "Fine, fine. No small talk about the boss, got it. Does the same go for the other two? Cause I''m really curious about them." Elen pointed at him with her fork. "Yes, it also goes for them. They''re not discreet just to give you more to speculate about. I like this job, and I don''t want you to ruin it just because you love to gossip a little too much." Claude smirked. "Fine, fine. So, if the bosses and the mystery workers are off-limit, then let''s talk about each other. For example, Elen, you spend a lot more time here than the rest of us. Is there something you know we don''t? Secrets from beyond the veil? A box of donuts only available to the first people who get here in the morning?" Snowflake gasped. "Elen! You wouldn''t hide donuts from us, would you?" "I''d prefer you''d call me Ms. Gurt, Mr. Puma. You too, Snowflake." Claude did a small gesture with his hand, as though waving her worries away. "Sure, Gurt. Anyway, what''s the deal?" She sighed. "I just like to be here. It''s safe, the others don''t mind leaving me alone until you all arrive, and..." Snowflake kept his eyes on her as he gulped down his soup. "I''d just rather be here than home." Ellie grimaced. "Ouch. You''re fine, sis? If there''s someone you want me to roughen up, I don''t mind lending a hand, or a hook if you''d prefer something more permanent." Elen shook her head. "No, no, I live alone, the area I''m in is relatively safe... It''s just... I can''t stand my neighbor anymore. It''s too much." Snowflake snapped his fingers as a light turned on in his brain. "You live next to Gluglu! That explains the stink!" Elen shrunk on herself, her salad long forgotten now. Bob croaked in understanding while Claude, Ellie, and Mop looked at Snowflake, confused. Mop was the one that ultimately dared to ask. "What stink? And who''s Gluglu?" "Super smell, remember? You guys can''t notice because she does her best to remove it. And Gluglu is a guy I learned about at my last job, I helped one of those street food vendors move their stuff and occasionally I smelled to check if their ingredients weren''t rotten, I had to quit because they bought half their stuff from Gluglu and it almost always made me puke." Bob nodded. "Ribbit. Child of the pond with a knack for eggs. Ribbit." Ellie raised an eyebrow. "What kind of eggs?" Bob looked away from her and scratched at his large chin and throat, but before Ellie could question him further Snowflake stood up all of a sudden, his usual joyful and somewhat mischievous look replaced by complete seriousness and slight worry. "There''s a bomb coming." All of them stood up at once and followed him as he ran to the central room of the warehouse, his knocking at the door matching knocks that came from outside. The door opened at once and before the crew had the time to think the goblin shaman and the wolfman came out and pushed them further to the back and away from the warehouse''s entrance, just as a sound echoed across their minds and vibrations traveled through their bodies. BOOM! Chapter 99 : Warehouse warfare The warehouse shook as the explosion washed over its entrance, and the workers inside had to cover their ears and close their eyes to spare their poor senses from the effects of the detonation, all lying on the ground after they had been pushed further away from the detonation point by their bosses. At least, the mundane workers. Four humanoids, with clothes and skins on the border between black and dark grey, emerged from the central room of the warehouse, just as the explosion ended the last one left the room and closed the door behind itself before following the others to join back with their leaders: the towering lupine man and the diminutive goblin shaman currently standing on his shoulders. The two stood in front of the entrance. The wolfman had his arms crossed as the goblin atop him did a little gesture with its hands, turning each one around the other in a flowing motion, dark green energy escaped from the palms and formed a gigantic vertical ring around the group. It was made of something that was neither liquid nor gas, immaterial and translucent. The ring flowed and rolled, engulfing both the smoke around them and the one that kept flowing in from the cracks in the weakened, yet still-standing, walls and door. Though damaged, the warehouse had perfectly resisted the explosion. On the outside, the various onlookers finally got to see the building as their eyes adjusted and the smoke and dust cleared, and the scouts and passers-by were quite shocked to see how little the bomb that had just detonated had done. Among them, one man in particular stood out. Surrounded by half a dozen knights covered in steel, his armor unlike theirs was white, made of larger plates covered in fine details mimicking muscles and more abstract red lines and circles. Despite its high level of detail, it kept a much lither frame, far from the bulky look of his fellow warriors this one looked more like a statue given life, a mannequin of pearly metal. His helmet too was different from the rest, rather than the classic helmet with a slitted visor the men surrounding him shared - armets - his instead was a stranger one. It started at his chest and bordered his shoulders before rising in a thin shape that clung to his neck as a large collar or perhaps mushroom stalk, with what looked like a second helmet emerging from this collar to protect the top of the head before ending in a beak-like shape at the front, the space between the beak and the collar forming the slit through which the knight could see. All in all, a design someone familiar with medieval history may recognize as a frog-mouth helm. Atop his head rested an oversized bright red feather, looking as though it had just been plucked off an ostrich''s tail and dipped in a paint bucket. In the knight''s hand was a spear whose bottom was resting on the ground, its bright red staff was half again as tall as the knight wielding it, and its tip was a perfect piece of sharp white metal in a teardrop shape, as long as a forearm. Of course, the spear was covered in various etchings and symbols, small things that could be confused for an aesthetic choice but that none of the people here today wouldn''t recognize: runes. The white knight and his entourage stood some distance away from the warehouse, at the end of an alleyway nearby, but they still had an unobstructed view of the explosion and the damages it caused - or rather, failed to cause. One of the regular knights addressed their eye-catching leader. "Sire, it appears the explosion failed." "Indeed. It was to be expected, from what we know of this Silhouette." "Should we engage?" "No, not yet. Rushing in now would only lead us into falling into a trap. Let us stay here, for now, sooner or later they will have to exit to check the damage and begin repairs. We''ll reconsider then. Still, be on your guard. We know they have ranged weaponry, and Silhouette''s attacks during his confrontation with Pierce Evil supposedly rose from the ground." "Very well, sire." Back in the warehouse, seeing no one was trying to bust in, the shaman and the man it stood on exchanged a look before addressing their fellow infused, the goblin speaking first. "Two of you stay here and stand guard until the reinforcements arrive. The rest, follow us." "One of you, open the door, scout outside, and report. Protect us while we clean out the closest group." The infused nodded and followed the orders. The two that chose to stay back decided to check on the more mundane employees, meanwhile, the one that went outside quickly looked around and noticed the group of knights in the distance and called out to the people inside. "Knights to the left, standing by. Approximately six in steel armor, one leader in white. Roughly a hundred meters away." After that the infused ran around the building, checking that there wasn''t anyone else trying to catch them by surprise. At the same time, the group of knights began to grow agitated. "Sire, one-" "I can see, soldier. Probably a scout, to check their attackers, and potentially go request for reinforcements." "Should we stop them?" "No. We''re not here to capture a target, merely to poke the nest and see what happens. Silhouette had no reinforcements on the Black Block, so this is the perfect opportunity to see the extent of his forces." "What if we are overwhelmed, sire?" "That''s why I''m here, and why lord Runar trusted me with an escape device in the worst-case scenario. But have no fear, soldiers, even in his failed attempt Pierce Evil didn''t lose a knight." "Very well, sire. So we should keep on waiting?" "No. If you were in their position, and just noticed a small group of enemies close to one another, what would you do?" "Use explosives if possible, sire." "Good, you see my point. So ready yourselves, blast attack incoming." The knights rearranged themselves, now forming a half-circle around their leader as they spread to put a little more distance between each other, leaving him to face the warehouse alone. He lifted his spear, its bottom no longer touching the ground, and began to spin it, a bright blue glow beginning to emit from some of the various inscriptions on the sharp white head, the glow tracing lines in the air as the weapon moved. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The infused scout, not noticing anyone but the group he had already spotted, returned to the entrance of the warehouse. "Nobody but the knights. They have begun to act, they changed formation and the leader appears to be preparing something." The wolfman nodded while the goblin, who had still been doing his weird little gesture with his hands so far to keep the ring of green magic going, slowly repositioned its hands and fingers to make the gest smaller and only have its index spinning around one another, and as it did the ring shrunk and moved to float in front of the shaman rather than surround it and the lupine it was standing on, up until it looked like a dark green translucent tire filled with smoke floating in the air. The wolfman changed his posture, dropping to the ground to stand on all fours, and walked to the entrance. The black flames that escaped from its hollow eyes, usually so small they were hidden by his fur, suddenly grew out and became much more visible, almost looking like the horns of a hellish beast. The wolf and the goblin exchanged one last look before the beast charged out, his claws marking the ground as he exited the warehouse in a burst and immediately turned to face the knights, just in time for the goblin to release the spell it had been feeding so far. For the knights, it was a sight straight out of a horror story: a dark furry beast with horns of black fire ridden by a dark sorcerer had just appeared, and just as their minds processed the sight a wheel of poisonous energy suddenly flew at them and grew, turning from a ring into a gigantic wave of dark green death ready to swallow them whole. Their white leader huffed out in contempt as he fully channeled his energy into his weapon, the spinning weapon suddenly going much quicker as the wispy trails of blue light the head had been emitting so far turned into a flow of supernatural water, a whirlpool forming in the air before the knight just as the wave was about to wash over him. The two forces of magical liquid crashed against each other, translucent and glowing blue and green flowing against one another, forming a sphere in the air as they struggled to absorb or undo the other - a sphere that the white knight batted away with his spear, throwing the massive thing big enough to devour a car unto the beast and his rider as they charged towards him and his entourage, before spinning his spear one more and launching his own waves forward, smaller than the miniature tsunami he had just blocked but still tall and powerful enough to knock down anyone that may be in the way. The goblin scoffed at the sight from its furry perch before it twirled on itself and unleashed a bolt of dark energy toward the oncoming sphere of still-fighting magical energies, launching it back into the air as the wolf made use of his momentum to keep his posture low to the ground while stopping running on its arms, instead relying fully on his powerful legs to keep his speed going as his claws slashed at the oncoming waves, each strike cutting through the magical forces and opening a passage large enough for him and the goblin on his shoulder to slip through. Just as the duo was about to breach through and reach their opponents, the wolf stopped just in time to avoid impaling himself on the lowered spear of the white knight, the pearly white head a breath away from his furry forehead, and the knights that had been surrounding their leader so far had repositioned themselves closer to him and all had their blades pointed at the goblin and their shields ready to block whatever the shaman might throw at them. The fighters stayed still and silent for a second, each side waiting for the other to make its move before the spear wielder chose to speak. "I must say, I didn''t expect a magic user and a magic breaker of such talent to work for Silhouette. Formidable teamwork might I add. May I know the names of the ones that proved themselves worth my time?" The wolf growled. "Information for information." "Ah, of course, how rude of me. I am Speareau, The Flow, one of the Runarian knights. And you, my primal friends?" "Fluorine." "Loedycan." "No titles? A shame." Loedycan took a step back, but before he had the chance to take another Speareau thrust his weapon forward, placing the brightly glowing tip on the skin of the wolfman without piercing it. "Tutut, stay put. I''m not foolish enough to think reinforcements won''t arrive soon, but until then, I''m sure you have a lot to tell me, my friends. I am quite curious about those eyes of yours, Loedycan. Magical manifestations replacing body parts are quite uncommon, especially around these parts." Fluorine the shaman suddenly twirled and threw out a blast of dark green energy Speareau batted away with the back of his free hand. "As for you, Fluorine, primal goblins are a rare sight in civilized society, particularly those with an elemental alignment." The white knight pressed his weapon even further on Loedycan''s brow, just enough for trails of black blood to begin to form between the dark hairs of his fur, barely noticeable to the mundane eye. The wolfman took another step back and the shaman did another twirl, and just as Speareau readied himself to step forward and threaten them once more a shadow formed on him, and the knight barely had the time to look up and raise his spear to catch the black humanoid that had thrown itself off the roof of a nearby building, the aggressor''s fall ending as its torso met the tip of Speareau''s weapon in a crunch, the pearly white metal piercing the sternum with a crunch followed by a meatier sound. The wolf and his goblin rider took advantage of the distraction to retreat, rushing back to the warehouse before Speareau was done throwing the body off his weapon. The black mass flew through the air before falling limp to the side, and as soon as his spear was unobstructed the white knight ran after the duo, phantom water forming around him as his spear glowed much stronger than before, a magical torrent forming in his wake- Just before a field of black spikes emerged from the enormous shadow that suddenly appeared on the ground, the trunks blocking the magical water as the tips twisted to chase after the knight to pierce him from all directions. He twirled his weapon to control the water he had summoned to block as many attacks as it could before hitting the ground with the bottom of the red staff, he noted how the shadow parted around the impact as he channeled his energy into the red staff to propel himself in the air by summoning a spectral geyser that formed under him, even more water surrounding him and forming a stream to control his movement in the air, forming a blue line that pointed directly at the group of knights still in the alleyway. The spikes on the ground blocking the water grew even further into lengthy tentacles that chased after him in the stream, and as he reached the middle of it the knight put his spear out, just in reach to pierce the massive orb of still fighting blue and dark green energies that the goblin had thrown back in the air and all parties had ignored until now, though it was noticeably smaller than when it first formed. As the white metal of the bladed tip pierced it, the sphere unleashed all of the magic and smoke it contained in a powerful blast, blinding the sight of most on the battlefield for a few seconds. When the air cleared enough for mundane eyes to see properly, Speareau was back with his men, the small ground standing under a dome of flowing water. In front of them, where not so long ago stood a field of spikes and tentacles, was a recognizable pitch-black figure. Within his shield, Speareau spoke up. "Silhouette, I presume. I heard much about you." Silhouette didn''t answer, and instead slowly approached the group in their alleyway. "Not in the mood to talk, then? I had come to understand you bantered for a short while when dealing with my junior." "Sire, is it wise to antagonize him?" Speareau hummed behind his frog-mouth helm as the subject of the conversation was suddenly much closer, merely a few steps away from the shield. "No, no it is not. Still, we have learned much today men." The dome of pure water slowly went through a change, black ink beginning to appear within and taint it. "As for you Silhouette, I must say Pierce Evil hasn''t done you any justice. I hope you will have a change of heart and join us willingly." As the shield grew inkier and inkier, Speareau passed his hand over a spot on his metal collar and the runes beneath his fingers glowed before the metal opened, revealing a small crystal. "Put your hands on my armor and take hold of each other. If one of you isn''t in contact with the rest, you will be left behind." The knights followed his command, and as the shield almost became too dark to see through and the last metal-covered hand took hold of another''s armor, Speareau crushed the crystal. In a pop and a flash of light, the group disappeared and the shield collapsed. Chapter 100 : A storm on the horizon James looked at the spot where a second ago stood a group of knights and grumbled as he retracted all the shadows he had spread. He could feel the only people left were those that had been surveying him for days and his workers, and although he was ready to fight off any opportunist that might try their hand now it seemed highly unlikely for anyone to try anything now that he was here. James began to return to the warehouse, but on the way, he stopped by the unmoving black body lying on the ground. Through his connection with his infused, he knew that this one still lived, but it was far too hurt and weakened to move. He formed a bed of tentacles to grab the limp body from the floor gently and brought it along with him as he joined his two commanders standing outside the warehouse, the goblin shaman and the wolfman standing still, the small one no longer on the shoulders of the larger and furrier one. "Fluorine, Loedican. Report, now." "During their lunch break, one of our workers smelled a bomb just as Loedican did. They came to warn us, which allowed us to throw them back for safety while we went to investigate. Some of ours still wait inside, protecting them and the workshop." "The bomb didn''t destroy the entrance, but repairs are still needed. One of ours checked the situation while we readied ourselves for a raid, but the enemy simply waited outside, roughly at the spot where you trapped them yourself, master." "We went to confront them. Only the white knight fought, but he was strong enough to put us on the back foot. If the fight continued for much longer we might have needed to rely on our secret weapons." "The knight called himself Speareau and claimed to work for Runar. His use of runes matches. He wields a spear that he also uses to cast water magic. I believe he was slightly stronger than us in both might and magic but had there been another one of us with abilities beyond our standard fighter we might have been able to fend him on our own." James hummed as he pondered the situation. As they were infused the duo of warehouse leaders could share things in something best described as telepathy, just like when James had directed Solvent in his meeting with his neighbors in the Sunken City while James himself was on the surface. The method required a lot of concentration from him, but luckily listening to a purposefully vague and possibly incomplete report was the perfect excuse for that. The duo''s impressions and feelings on what had happened - as much as their stunted selves could actually "feel" - mostly matched what they said out loud, but were much more detailed. Loedican was convinced that had he had some armor and weaponry of his own, he would have outperformed Runar''s lackey with ease. Similarly, Fluorine assured him that with some good catalysts infused with his shadowy energy, his shamanic spells might have proved more effective against the white knight''s conjured water. Apparently, the goblin''s Burning Water specialty was a form of acid magic derived from poison magic, which itself was perfect to corrupt water magic, especially with the boost that his infusion had provided. James'' rough knowledge of chemistry tempted him to disagree and say that water on the contrary made acid less effective, but he wasn''t an expert and even then they were talking about magical shenanigans, so who was he to contradict someone who spent their life studying the stuff. In any case, it was clear this Speareau was acting differently than Pierce Evil. He didn''t risk his subordinates'' lives and instead handled everything himself, and even from what little James had managed to learn as he fought against him it was clear they also differed in fighting styles. Pierce Evil was a speedster whose specialty was to deal incredibly damaging blows while avoiding or deflecting his opponent''s attacks, meanwhile, Speareau seemed to rely more on magical tricks that covered wide areas while using his martial prowess to keep enemies away. James felt like he would have an easier time against the spear-wielder, his magic had shown it could corrupt the white knight''s own, and even though he wielded a runic weapon capable of harming him James was convinced he could avoid it. The fact the knight immediately retreated as soon as he showed up comforted him in that train of thought, though he knew better than to grow arrogant. For all I know, he might have dozens more runes specifically tailored against me he didn''t use because he preferred to leave. That was the other thing troubling James. Runar had learned from his last attempt, this time there was no mob of thugs he could easily dispatch or even infuse into helping him, only knights. Still, the fact no runic mage showed up was concerning. With proper strategies planned the knights could have easily protected them, especially with such a powerful leader. The fact there was none, however, indicated that either Runar had run out of them or grown too paranoid to use them against James, or... This wasn''t meant to be a full-blown attack, otherwise, there would have been a bunch of wizards launching spells to blow up the warehouse. This was a test of our defenses. "Master, what is your command?" "Return inside and resume your activities, but stay on your guard. I will stay with you until the end of the day. Tomorrow we''ll look into upgrading security." What had been left unsaid was that James would fix the damages, discreetly of course. As for the upgrade to security, well, he had some infused he could station here, including one or two runic mages of his own. Sadly their spells were too advanced for him to use, as powerful as his magic was James was still a beginner, he learned incredibly fast but he still needed to learn, and with all of the runic gizmos Runar''s men had he doubted better magic would be enough for him to defeat the rune expert''s merry band, no, it was a far better use of his time to prepare his troops and improve his fighting technique itself. Luckily, he didn''t need to know how to cast those spells, much like Fluorine the goblin shaman, the mages had kept their knowledge and experience and were just as effective as they were before, if not even more so. In any case, James had now met two out of the supposedly five Runarian knights, Pierce Evil and Speareau. He knew for a fact there was also Karadok, who was from what he gathered Runar''s right-hand man, but that still left two unknowns. Even his infused didn''t know much about them. Only one of his new mages had anything of value to say about them, that one of the two was called Medraw, and that both were discreet for a reason. If he wanted to make a show of things, Runar sent Pierce Evil or Speareau. If he wanted something to be taken care of more subtly? That was the other two''s job. In fact, the way everything had happened, the bomb, the sudden appearance of a knight with flashy powers who retreated as fast as possible... It was certain this whole thing was a way for Runar to test their defenses, but could James be certain that Speareau had been the only high-profile individual here today? James followed silently after Fluorine and Loedican as they returned inside, but mentally he warned the two of the possibility of another attack or assassination, or sabotage attempt. The front of the warehouse was covered in cracks, and through his connection with the infused materials James could tell a second explosion would have taken down the wall. The white knight''s torrential charge that he blocked when he just arrived would have probably done the job, and that didn''t seem like a coincidence. The inside of the building seemed unaffected by the events of the day, bar maybe lighter items having slightly shifted in position following the vibrations of the explosion. However, James had already seen that when he first came here through the secret tunnel he had dug himself, even though he had made sure to stick to his pure shadow form to make it harder for any onlookers to notice he had come from inside the warehouse. An infused waited in front of the fake workshop''s door, and as soon as the entrance''s door closed behind James a few heads popped around the corner of the central room and from behind a few crates, trying to see who had just entered while doing their best to stay hidden. Some might have seen the gesture as cowardly, but James didn''t hire these workers as fighters. "At ease. I hope none of you were injured?" Recognizing their employer''s voice, the merry band of misfits left their hiding places to stand in line in front of him, generally looking nervous yet relieved. Elen Gurt appeared particularly stressed by the situation, which was perfectly understandable considering the fact she was a perfectly normal baseline human, perhaps even weaker than average. Bob the frog and Ellie didn''t seem particularly bothered by the situation, and the one-handed woman even had a small smile on her lips, the beginning of a smirk. James idly noted how Snowflake checked on his coworkers before addressing him. "No sir, no injury to report here!" "Good, good. From what I''ve been told you noticed the bomb early on, correct? Good job warning your coworkers and trying to join your superiors." The small white creature beamed with joy at his praise, and for a brief moment, James considered checking whether his employee had some sort of canine ancestry. Claude Puma interrupted that train of thought, however. "So, boss, what happened out there?" Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "As your colleague warned you, a bomb was used on our front door. Some of Runar''s men waited outside, and your managers held them back until my arrival, at which point they fled. You may now resume your work." Mop Skybreaker didn''t look as enthusiastic as usual and quickly voiced his concern. "Uh, are you sure, boss? What if more come?" "I am already aware of the possibility, which is why I will stay here for the remainder of the day." Elen let out a sigh of relief, just as Ellie''s smirk turned into a slight grimace. "Is there something bothering you, Ms. Bell?" The woman tried her best to avoid his gaze as she scratched the back of her head with her hand. "Ehhh... No offense, boss, but... Having the big man in the same room as you while you work isn''t the best sensation in the world, ya know?" James chuckled, and apparently, none of his workers expected the sound judging by their widened eyes. "Worry not. I will be in the workshop, along with your manager, to look into ways to make sure a similar situation doesn''t happen again in the future. You and your colleagues will be free to work as usual." Ellie seemed ready to respond but ultimately chose to stay silent. If James had to guess, he would say she wasn''t convinced by his argument but didn''t want to risk annoying him. To her credit, the fake workshop was designed so that sound didn''t go out but easily came in so that anyone inside could keep an ear out for anything suspicious, but the workers weren''t supposed to know that. "With that taken care of, I now leave you to your work. Fluorine, Loedican." The goblin and the shaman nodded and followed James to the central room of the warehouse, the workers none the wiser to the thin tendril of shadows escaping from James and slithering to the cracked entrance wall, worming its way over the damage. As he began to repair the entrance by transmitting stored infused materials from the fake workshop, James also kept an eye on his workers. In any other situation, he would have given a day off, but since he was looking out for spies, keeping them here to check their reactions and movements was much more beneficial than that small bit of loyalty and thankfulness he could earn. For all he knew, one of his workers might very well turn out to be one of those two mysterious knights. But we can''t stay on the defensive forever. It''s clear Runar isn''t giving up, and I don''t want to spend my life preparing for one of his guys to show up at the door. Then, a stray thought passed through his mind. A silly thought, really, but in the worst-case scenario, in the privacy of this room, the only people who would see him possibly ridicule himself would be his infused, and it''s not like they cared. "I know you''re here. Tell Runar if he gives up now, I''ll ignore our past grievances. If he doesn''t? He won''t have enough knights to shield him from me." Loedican, Fluorine, and the injured infused James was still carrying didn''t say a thing, and James didn''t hear a single movement. Bah, it doesn''t matter. Still, I think I''m going to wait a bit before calling Techlord. Just in case.
Somewhere else in the slums, on top of a relatively good-looking building, Runar was listening to Speareau''s report via his crystal ball. The tall elvish man in his pristine yellow three-piece suit paid close attention to his white knight''s words. "-and that is when another individual, they too with dark grey or pale black skin, dropped from a nearby roof. One of theirs, I assume, since they looked quite similar to the one that left the warehouse soon after the bomb detonated." "Are you sure they weren''t the same?" "Certain, milord. They posed no threat and I easily dispatched them, though the other two took advantage of the distraction to retreat. I pursued with a torrential charge since I was afraid they might be fetching some kind of secret weapon, and I was certain the aftereffects of the attack would be more than enough to finish breaking down the front of the building. It''s at this point that he appeared." Runar easily guessed who had stopped his knight. "Silhouette." On the other side of the crystal ball, in the secret location Runar had fine-tuned that incredibly expensive spatial crystal to teleport its user to, Speareau did his best to nod despite the bulky nature of his frog-mouth helm, and in truth, most of the movement went straight to the red feather on top of his head. "Exactly, sire. He created countless tentacles to block the magical water itself while also trying to impale me with their sharpened tips. Following your orders and suggestions, I decided the risk was too great to keep the fight going and chose to retreat. I distracted all present by taking advantage of an earlier spell that was still going, rejoined with my men, formed a shield to protect us all, and used the crystal you trusted me with to teleport us all to safety before Silhouette was done corrupting my shield." Runar raised one of his bushy grey eyebrows at that last part. "I''ve heard similar things from reports of Pierce Evil''s encounter with the man, but with your expertise, I want you to be clear with me: are you certain the term ''corrupt'' is most fitting here?" "Yes, milord. The way his energy slipped inside the shield, and slowly turned it into this inky dark thing... I believe corruption is the best term to define his powers." This... This was very important. "Anything else to say?" "Although I have only taken down one of his, I am proud to say we suffered no casualty or even injury in this operation." "Excellent work. You and your team may have time off the rest of the day and tomorrow. After that, report to my office at dawn." "Yes, milord. Thank you for this generous gift." The knight vanished from the crystal ball, but the magical item didn''t lose its glow. Once more Runar was rather surprised to see a report so soon. The rune expert tapped the orb and another helmet appeared inside, incredibly different from Speareau''s. The green piece of metal looked like a domino mask strapped onto a bowl from which chainmail dangled, the metal plate covering where would be a nose and the rest of the upper half of the face as well as the top of the head above the ears. The shaping of the plate gave it an almost avian air, the point covering the nose resembling a beak, but what made the mask particularly peculiar were its eyes. Rather than a pair of openings, they were instead a trio of almond-shaped red marbles or pearls, with a pair placed exactly where a human''s eyes would be while the third one was in the middle of the forehead, angled vertically rather than horizontally. As always with Runar''s elite servants, this one''s equipment too was covered in runes, the countless sigils were not only inscribed on the helmet itself - similar to what could be called a Gjermundbu helm - but also its aventail, each metal hoop bearing a few lines. In truth the runes on this part of the chainmail weren''t anything particularly impressive, there were mostly meant to reinforce the armor and remove the mail''s weakness to piercing damage as well as to make what lied behind it harder to distinguish, but that didn''t remove anything from the hard work and expertise that went into making them. "Tristare, I didn''t expect to hear from you so soon. Is there an emergency?" The green knight slightly moved his head, and eerily, despite the movement, his mail didn''t make a sound. "Silhouette claimed to perceive me. I didn''t want to risk checking his claim without additional backup and equipment." Runar narrowed his eyes. "Are you certain he noticed you?" "No. But would you have preferred for me to stay and risk being corrupted? Risk letting him learn all that I know?" For a second, the runemaster stopped breathing. "No. Do you believe-" "The primal goblin shaman Speareau encountered fit the description of some minor drug dealer from the Sunken City that disappeared some time ago according to Medraw''s contacts. Those two managers and every other similar-looking individual - who just so happen to wear similar attire to what our average thug dresses like - share a very similar energetic signature to Silhouette''s own, to the point focus is needed to notice the difference. Yes, I believe we are dealing with someone with the Transformation Aspect." This... This was very bad. "Tell me everything. Now." "Has Speareau reported yet?" "Yes." "Then there is no need for me to go over that, aside to mention that I couldn''t determine from whence Silhouette came. His energy manifested from the warehouse, and since the entire place is saturated by one incredibly similar, it was like he came out of nowhere. I am unsure if he teleported or was simply hidden inside beforehand." "That''s another problem to deal with." "Indeed. The other workers inside don''t share this energy signature, by the way. I observed as Silhouette addressed his men, and I noticed his voice is artificially made." "How so?" "There are no vocal cords, in fact, he has no biology to speak of. He speaks by emitting vibrations and imbuing them with his energy passively. After discussing with his managers he reassured his workers and went to an isolated room in the center of the warehouse. With all the magic around I had trouble seeing what was happening inside, and that is when he addressed me." "What did he say?" "That he knew I was here, and that if you gave up now he would forgive us." "What else?" "That if you continued on the path of war, he would come after you." "Anything else?" "Nothing urgent I can''t simply write down for you to review later. Ah, no, there is one thing." "What?" "You asked me to keep an eye out for demonic energies. I can confirm there are some in everything related to Silhouette, including himself. Nothing strong enough to indicate he is a demon himself, but more than enough to say something odd is happening." "Good work. I expect your full report on my desk tomorrow morning at the latest." "As you order." This time as the helmet vanished from the crystal ball the magical light it emitted disappeared too, and without any of his minions to see him, Runar finally allowed his face to pale a little. He hadn''t expected much from the creature when he had first sent one of his men to investigate, and now here he was, with one of his top elements having antagonized the Black Bank while on the verge of a gang war with something with the Transformation Aspect. His worry was legitimate, considering the situation, and a lesser man would panic, perhaps give in to the threat, but Runar was an Arthen, and an Arthen didn''t bow down so easily. Yes, the latest revelation was a setback, and he now realized he had gravely underestimated the threat Silhouette posed, but he was Runar Arthen, runemaster extraordinaire, a genius in the magical field, and he wouldn''t go down like a miserable thug in these dirty streets full of despair. Calling his friends in various groups to bring up the threat of Transformation crossed his mind, but not only did that risk alerting bigger and more powerful powers that might capture the creature and worsen the situation, but that would also mean losing the element of surprise if he ever sent his newest weapon after them. For now, he knew undoubtedly that he needed to have Silhouette at his command. Such a powerful tool couldn''t be allowed to rot in these desolate slums. No, with something like that at his beck and call, Runar could do so much... The runemaster decided to hurry up finishing the repairs and upgrades to Pierce Evil''s armor. He would need all five of his knights to be ready for his next scheme to succeed, and additional firepower like the monster Karadok had requested from the Patcher was more than welcome. Now that he thought about it, there was an expert in demons he knew he could convince to help, with the right pieces of information. A Duskenfer was always a good thing to have on your side. Chapter 101 : Chatting 101
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: Did you guys hear about the new gang war in the slums? TechnoGogo: One explosion doesn''t make a gang war, Magic. MagicIsTragic: So you did hear about it! KillLaKrill: Can''t say I''ve heard about that. I mean, unless it involves the big three, we don''t hear much about what goes on there. (Mod)Seagullag: Yeah, you kids shouldn''t be aware of this kind of stuff. Who did you bribe, you two? MagicIsTragic: I didn''t bribe anyone! My uncle just so happens to work in the police, and he talks a lot after a beer or two. TechnoGogo: Same. My big sis can''t handle her catnip, which is great to learn juicy stuff. But really, Magic, it was just one bomb. The only reason they even took notice of that is that it wasn''t far from the Black Border. MagicIsTragic: Girl, your info isn''t complete. It wasn''t just a bomb, there was a magic fight, and one of the guys even used a teleportation crystal. A TELEPORTATION CRYSTAL. I''ll be able to afford a car before I can get one of those, and they''re one-time use. TechnoGogo: You''re making it up. MagicIsTragic: Girl, I like to mess around, but I never lie when it comes to magic. KillLaKrill: Yeah, I trust her on this one. You wouldn''t be messing around with stories of super robots either, Techno. TechnoGogo: Ugh, I hate that you''re right. So, what else do you know? Saray: Am I the only one that feels doting over stuff like that is very twisted? KillLaKrill: I get what you mean, but at the same time it''s kind of normal. It''s like all those murder documentaries, very macabre they''re being done in the first place, but really popular too. (Mod)Seagullag: Bah, in Draskia they would directly show you pictures of the corpses, not those awful reconstitutions. KillLaKrill: Case in point. MagicIsTragic: Ok, so apparently some time ago something big happened around the Black Bank, to the point the guy in charge had to step in. One of the guys responsible is being watched by the police, and apparently, someone dropped a bomb where he''s thought to be a day or two ago. Right after that, there was a big fight between two magic users, two different kinds of hydromancers from what my uncle told me. Just as one was about to win, a third guy came out of nowhere, some sort of umbramancer, and chased him away. Thing is, apparently the hydromancer that fled works for one of the founding members of Wicked Witchcraft. KillLaKrill: A founding member of WW? You''re sure of that? That feels like the kind of thing we should have heard about. (Mod)Seagullag: Someone annoyed the Blacks? You''re sure they''re still alive? TechnoGogo: There''s no way a major member of the big three did something like that in public without us hearing about it. The Silence: I can confirm there was an incident at the Black Bank, they sent a notification to all of their clients some time ago about a disturbance near their building. KillLaKrill: Silence, my guy, my buddy, my pal, why the hell do you know about that? The Silence: They have an online service. Their fees are reasonable, and I know for sure no one will burst through a wall and steal everything in my vault, unlike other banks in the city. KillLakrill: What about the ethics of it, man? How can you give money to guys who wear boots made out of baby seals and eat kittens? The Silence: Krill, don''t act like the Black family is the only barely legal group to abuse their money and influence to do whatever they please. I prefer the evil that is open about its nature to the one that claims itself righteous. And weren''t you the one complaining about how friendly the media portrayed seals despite them being just another wild predatory species the other day? (Mod)Seagullag: Guys, keep it cool. Anyway, Magic, do you know which guy from Wicked Witchcraft got involved in this mess? MagicIsTragic: Apparently it''s one that went mostly independent, some sort of runemaster. No my preferred form of magic, but still really impressive if done right. TechnoGogo: Uh, I thought you''d know more. MagicIsTragic: It''s not like they have an official website, Techno. Those guys aren''t fond of technology, and it''s really hard to learn anything about them outside of what the Union and the news are willing to say. TechnoGogo: Fair. So, an ex-WW big guy''s minion got into a fight with two other wizards. That''s the whole story? KillLaKrill: Put like that, it''s a lot less impressive. (Mod)Seagullag: Honestly, when it comes to super stuff, I''m much more interested in the recent fight between one of the Empress'' top machines and Sunburn. KillLaKrill: It wasn''t a fight, Sea. Sunburn destroyed the thing in less than a minute. Though, it''s really funny that the Angels and the Empress targeted the same shipment on the same day. TechnoGogo: Poor robot warrior. It flew too close to the sun. But hey, at least the videos of the fight are impressive. And the fire was quickly contained. (Mod)Seagullag: Yeah, Firefighter is great to have around. He''s a great reminder that not every Hero has to be a ridiculously powerful fighter to help the community. I wish Draskia had more guys like him. It''s kind of a shame he''s not more popular, he''s a much better model for kids than Mecha Man. I feel like one of his inventions goes rogue every other week. Saray: I don''t think he minds. I mean, he goes to schools but never accept any interview? That seems like someone who enjoys staying discreet and the smaller things in life. MagicIsTragic: I''m very disappointed in you guys for failing to appreciate what I just told you. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. KillLaKrill: A medium Villain''s elite minion fought two unknowns. There''s really nothing impressive here. If at least it had been that runemaster himself fighting an unknown then it would have been curious, but that''s it. Saray: I still think it''s weird you guys talk about Villains and criminals like that. KillLaKrill: Saray, everyone I know has at least thought about who was their favorite Villain. You''re the weird one here. MagicIsTragic: Guys, I think we might be seeing a new Villain on the rise here. A new unknown is involved in a mess with the Black Bank and still gets to live? That unknown then gets in a fight with a decently powerful mage? That screams like ambition to me. The Silence: Magic, do you have any idea of the number of people that would be considered Villains that live and die in the slums every day? The only reason you pay any attention to this event is that it was close to the Border, and the police just so happened to be present to see it all happen. There are much greater monsters in those streets than some of the Villains we hate here. TechnoGogo: Silence''s being a little overdramatic as usual, but he''s right. We have no idea of the sort of stuff that happens there. JamesIsInTheDark: Well, I log in and I see this. Off to a great start. Saray: James! It''s nice to see you. And you see, guys? I''m not the only one uncomfortable with getting excited over Villain stuff. JamesIsInTheDark: Also, couldn''t some of those guys be Vigilantes instead? That''s a thing here, right? (Mod)Seagullag: Yeah, Zalcien also has those. Mostly low-profile ones, but there are a few that can mess with the big boys. I''m a big fan of Fisticuffs, personally. KillLaKrill: Honestly, I don''t think the Villain or Vigilante labels work when talking about the slums. You can''t exactly break the law in a lawless area. JamesIsInTheDark: Why is that place even allowed to exist in the first place? I mean, we had a few bad spots back home, but nothing of this level. TechnoGogo: There are a ton of reasons, but to sum it up, it''s too big of a mess to clean up. Saray: Fixing the infrastructure alone would cost a fortune, but you also have to get rid of the monsters and find a place to host the inhabitants while everything is getting repaired or built. KillLaKrill: Also, the people from that place wouldn''t do well in the city. Going from a hellhole like that to a modern and civilized place? Kinda hard to adapt. (Mod)Seagullag: That one is stupid. I come from Draskia, the land of ice and steel, a place where the tallest buildings are the chimneys of the factories, and I adapted well to Zalcien. TechnoGogo: How long ago did you get here again? (Mod)Seagullag: That''s irrelevant. MagicIsTragic: Man, you guys are a bunch of killjoys. JamesIsInTheDark: From what I''ve learned anyway, fights like this are pretty common there, no? TechnoGogo: From what we know, yeah, they are. It''s hard for the info to reach us, but what does is usually pretty grim. The border is relatively peaceful because the Union keeps an eye on that, and that specific area is even calmer since the Black Bank is there, but the rest? There''s a reason why people think the Nightsnatcher might be from there. JamesIsInTheDark: Right, that thing. The one that killed a teen during a phone call, right? MagicIsTragic: Young adult, but yeah, but dude, how can you not be sure of that when there''s still a curfew to stop people from going out around while it''s hunting? Just yesterday there was another disappearance and it was plastered all over the news. Saray: They actually found the missing girl today. It turns out she just sneaked away to go to a party with her friends. She''s alive and well. KillLaKrill: Uh, that''s a nice turn of events. Very stupid of her, but nice to know she''s unharmed. JamesIsInTheDark: I just don''t keep up with the news all that much lately, I''ve been pretty busy handling stuff. MagicIsTragic: Oooh, what kind of stuff? JamesIsInTheDark: Personal stuff. MagicIsTragic: Fine, keep your secrets. TechnoGogo: Say, James, I know you''re not from here, so what''s your opinion on Zalcien so far? I''d like to have an outsider''s perspective on it. JamesIsInTheDark: Isn''t Seagullag also not from here? KillLaKrill: He''s been around for at least a decade now, he''s used to everything. JamesIsInTheDark: Well... I guess it''s livelier than my home town. Very diverse, too. I''ve never seen a non-human person before, so meeting my first extraterrestrial was weird. TechnoGogo: Oh, you got to meet one of those? That''s so cool! Don''t get the wrong idea, James, aliens are rare even here. Sure, there are a few famous ones around on TV and the net, but meeting one in person? Now that''s something worth talking about. Right, Magic? MagicIsTragic: I hate you. TechnoGogo: I love you too, my dear nemesis. But whoa, an all-human town? I know we''re the most numerous people here, but whoa, that must have been something. No elf, no dwarf, no mutant, no robot... Wait, James, you do count robots as people, right? JamesIsInTheDark: It depends? If it''s like one of those basic AI in vacuums then no, but if its AI is developed enough to feel like a person it probably is, then? At least it makes sense to treat it like one. I mean, so far the only sapient robot I''ve met was this one automaton guy who sold me a souvenir. Robots, where I come from, aren''t that developed. The smartest robots were all focused on one or two topics and mostly algorithms and databases to act, not actual thoughts. TechnoGogo: Oof, good. You gave me a scare for a second there, buddy. JamesIsInTheDark: I take it not everyone is so accepting? TechnoGogo: Yup. Recently Senator Sigmund mentioned proposing a law that wouldn''t allow robots to be recognized as citizens, and the number of supporters it had was... Kinda frightening. Doctor Decanov had some very strong words to say about that. JamesIsInTheDark: Who is doctor Decanov? KillLaKrill: Oh boy, fangirl mode incoming. MagicIsTragic: Fly you fools. Saray: Come on, guys, you''re being overdramatic. TechnoGogo: So, since I can''t sum up a decade of work in a few sentences, I''m just gonna tell you about the man himself. He''s a robot scientist, and by that I mean he''s a robot that chose to study science. He''s a genius held back by the ambient robophobia, seriously, if the Union bothered to hire him he''d outshine Mecha Man''s stuff in no time. The media love depicting him as this mad scientist with a love for chaos and destruction, when in truth he is a paragon of creation and innovation. He also might as well be the face of the robotic movement in Zalcien. He may not be the actual leader of the Movement for Robotic Respect, but any sapient machine in Zalcien will tell you about him. (Mod)Seagullag: He''s also Draskian. Well, of Draskian descent, since he was made and programmed here, but still. TechnoGogo: Yeah, that doesn''t help his popularity either. Saray: Techno, you can''t ignore the dozens of explosions he left behind. TechnoGogo: He can''t be responsible for accidents when he isn''t present. Besides, he''s never been condemned for anything. In the eyes of justice, he''s a perfectly innocent man. KillLaKrill: Saray, there''s no convincing her when it comes to Decanov. And James, just so you know, the actual face of the MRR is Mecha Man''s failed robotic assistant who woke up with a soul, Drone Dome. I met her once, she was very nice. The whole dome head thing was kind of hard to get used to at first, but when your mother''s boyfriend has a clam for a face, it becomes easier to read people with no facial expression. JamesIsInTheDark: If you say so. Say, Silence, are you still here? What did you mean about worse monsters than Villains in the slums? Saray: Don''t worry about that, James. It''s mostly rumors and creepypastas. Honestly, criminals who go there to hide from the law and dangerous animals are the biggest common threats there. The Silence: Do not speak for me. As for the horrors and terrors that roam the worst parts of this city, there are countless entities I do not know of, but there is one anyone who has researched the darker side of Zalcien will know of. The Patcher. We do not know much about him, only that his victims are still alive to beg for mercy when he works on them, and that the monsters he creates hate their existence as much as they yearn to maim and kill any soul unlucky enough to cross their path. He''s such a monstrous man not even the rest of the underworld dares to meet him, and yet he has made himself too vital to be wiped out. He''s a cancerous growth that only spreads death and misery, and the fact no one has bothered to put an end to his accursed work is all the proof I need to know this city is corrupt beyond saving. KillLaKrill: It''s all greatly exaggerated. I think. MagicIsTragic: Sheesh, dude. What did the guy do to you? The Silence: One of his monsters took my sister before my eyes when I was a child. (Mod)Seagullag: Alright, I just received a warning from the hosting website''s algorithm. I''m guessing they''re gonna pull the plug soon. And guys, let''s talk about something else when the chatroom is back, alright? This website is under maintenance. Check back in a few hours.
Chapter 102 : Demonologist Beneath Zalcien was another place, a parallel world born in the ruins of the city''s past from an archaeologist''s curiosity and criminals searching for a place to hide. This place, of course, was the Sunken City. In one of its less populated areas, below the slums that plagued the upper world, was a tower of stone. The small tower of cobblestone was topped by a pointed roof of purple tiles, from which escaped a small iron tube chimney that constantly released pink fumes. In his laboratory - a small room filled with strange instruments, candles burning with oddly colored flames, and countless bowls filled with materials attached to chains dangling from the ceiling - Mesker Duskenfer was carefully handling a flask filled with a dark red liquid, doing his best to ensure a small trickle of it poured into the Erlenmeyer in his other blackened hand, one of his golden eyes closed to put as much focus as possible into the other one. Once he was satisfied with the amount he had transferred, the demonologist put down the two containers on the table in front of him, and he couldn''t stop himself from releasing a small sigh of relief. Talented as he was the pyromancer was no alchemist, and the handling of magical substances like hydra blood always had its risks. in this specific case, the risk was not only wasting the incredibly precious liquid with outstanding regenerative properties, for a single drop of it could have incredible effects on living things depending on their biology and sheer random chance. Mesker shuddered as he thought back to that car-sized spider he had to deal with after spilling some of the blood during his first experiments. Sadly, his laboratory contained far too many precious and unstable items for him to burn down the blanket of spider web the arachnid had had the time to make. On the plus side, he made a pretty penny selling the body to Motiro and the webs to a clothmaker acquaintance of his. Meskr thought back to the reason why he had this blood in the first place - his scrying, his deal with Motiro the beast, his meeting with... Silhouette. Of course, thinking about Silhouette made him recall the creature''s fight with the demon ambassador hidden in that abandoned house. Or, to be more specific, the demon that had been sealed in that house before the fall of the old Zalcien, and therefore had been kept weak for over a century. Oh, the demon was indeed slightly stronger than the average citizen of his realm, but that slight advantage and any training it may have gone through had been rendered null by its time in captivity. Had the worst come to happen, Mesker would have been able to banish it without any preemptively made rituals or any of his special tools, but the fact a man with no knowledge as to techniques used to counter a demon''s natural defenses and who was obviously fighting such a creature for the first time had managed to not only defeat the beast but also permanently kill it... Frankly, the old scholar empathized with the monk who had been tasked with keeping an eye on the demon, and who had been more than shaken after the fight. Had Silhouette used some kind of overwhelming power like Sunburn was used to then the situation would have made some sort of sense, but as mighty as his magic was it was still simple and something the demon should have been able to handle. Mesker chased away these thoughts, he was no hypocrite and would follow the advice he had given that monk: stay out of people''s business. If they''re not demons or actively attacking him, then there''s no reason for him to get involved. Suddenly something began to glow behind Mesker, and although he prepared a small fireball in his hand the pyromancer recognized that specific cyan light, and as he turned and his red robes with violet flames embroidered wooshed in the air, he let his barebone spell fade away as his eyes fell on a small crystal ball placed between other trinkets on the table behind him. The orb wasn''t as big as the standard fare, whereas others of its types ranged in size from a cantaloupe to a human head, his ball was closer to an apple. The sphere was too small to handle the magic necessary to transmit images, but it made it easier to transport. Mesker walked to the table and picked up the crystal ball with one of his blackened hands, raising it roughly to his chin, with some distance between it and his thin face - he may not receive visuals on his end, but his caller would, and he doubted they''d want to see the old man''s tan wrinkly skin with too much detail. With a flex of his magic, the orb of magical glass turned from cyan to gold, and the pyromancer began to speak. "Mesker Duskenfer speaking. Who is this?" "Master Duskenfer, it is a pleasure to hear you again." Mesker narrowed his golden eyes. He dealt with enough snakes giving him pompous titles in hopes of soothing his ego for their voices to merge in his mind, but this one he recognized for its owner was a rather singular case. "Runar Arthen. What do you want from me? Is this about recruiting me to spy on your organization again? I already told you no." "Please, Master Duskenfer, simply call me Runar." It was in cases like this one the scholar was glad he was so experienced with demons. Dealing with entities whose whole shtick is their ability to make deals and their attempts at fooling mortals gave him an impressive poker face, one that was perfect to hide the small amount of glee addressing the disowned noble by his family''s name. If he wanted to play the name game, Mesker would play along. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "You haven''t answered my question, Arthen." The demonologist could easily picture the way the runemaster''s face twitched at that, but much like every other snake trying to get something from him, he valued Mesker''s help too much to correct him. "My men have come across a creature, a powerful entity, and one of my elites has assured me it had demonic energies. I sent a few more to verify the claim of course and had them test the areas where it dared to attack us. I can send you these tests if you wish, but you can already guess the results." Mesker began to caress his wick-like beard. "You want me to get rid of a demonic creature. Are you certain it is not protected?" "The Black came to interfere in one of our capture attempts, my men had been overzealous and got too close to his bank. I received fines, but at no point in the paperwork did it state that the creature was off-limits." Yes, it made sense that in the area, the only authority his many contracts would recognize would be the Black family. At worst, since it was merely a demonic creature and not a full demon, the consequences of attacking a protected entity would be bearable. His contracts were harsh, but the rules he had to follow were clear. "You said capture attempts, correct? So you want the creature alive. Is there anything more you can tell me about it? The more I know, the easier it will be for me to prepare, and the less you''ll have to pay." "Why, yes. It is a master of shadows, a shapeshifter limited by its monochrome nature. It is powerful and sapient, and it has shown it could use magic. Shadow bolts, spikes, something some of my men described as an energy black hole, and it... For lack of a better term... Showed proficiency in overtaking others'' spells. Nothing to the level of robbing a spell from a mage''s hand as they were casting, but it has on more than one occasion slipped its way through our shields." This... This description sounded eerily similar to someone he knew. Someone he just reminded himself not to think about too much, someone who had recently become his neighbor, and most importantly someone he knew for a fact wasn''t truly a demon or a demonic beast. "You wouldn''t happen to know its name, would you? This sort of thing is really important. Much like the Fair Folk, demons place great importance on names and titles. This could mean the difference between rendering it harmless with a finger snap and it tearing your forces apart when it should have been turned loyal." A small benign exaggeration. Demon names were truly important, but they were not as powerful as a fae''s. This was especially true of demonic beasts, who were essentially mundane creatures filled with demonic energies rather than true children of chaos. Knowing such an entity''s name was no better than knowing a human''s, but luckily for Mesker and his fellow exorcists, that wasn''t the sort of information easily accessible even to great magic experts. And knowing snakes like Runar, the man would do anything to attain his goals, including telling the demonologist more than he planned to. "The entity refers to itself as Silhouette. From what we''ve learned, it has amassed a small group of followers, cultists perhaps. It runs the risk of growing its influence and overtaking my part of the slums, and I doubt the Black Bank will act if it doesn''t attack them." Mesker grumbled as he pretended to think about the runemaster''s offer, for he knew that outright refusing would clue him in that the pyromancer knew about Silhouette than he let on. "A creature like the one you describe sounds mighty. It may take some time and a lot of resources for me to gather the materials required for the right ritual. And if it is as disruptive as you claim, I have no doubt other exorcists have noticed the commotion and are already planning to deal with the problem, meaning they may kill it before we can capture it. Give me a few days to think about your proposal. Perhaps use that time to get your hands on some of the materials I or any other exorcist may need, they should prove useful." Just because Mesker had no intention to take the contract didn''t mean he wouldn''t teach his would-be manipulator a lesson. "Would you happen to have a list?" It was truly challenging to hold back that smirk.
Later, after a long conversation involving the many materials that could be genuinely useful to take down a shadow demon - to not tick off any potential exorcist consultant Runar got his hands on - but also could be used in various rituals and experiments Mesker just so happened to be interested in, Mesker put an end to his communication with the runemaster, and added a small hex on his crystal ball, just in case Runar had the rich idea to try and use it without Mesker knowing so. If he wanted to spy on the pyromancer, the Arthen would need to send his best element instead of relying on cheap tricks. Mesker cast a small stealth spell, just in case, before leaving his tower. His specialties were demonology and pyromancy, and although neither field of magic seemed useful outside of specific situations, all it took was the right mindset and experimentation to get some more mundane tricks out of those fields. Case in point, his stealth spell, which mixed the illusions of heat, the clouding of smoke, and some other minor aspects he dabbled in, and one of his favorite tricks, his pseudo-teleportation spell. An ember flew through the air until it landed not far from a large building that used to be an orphanage in what felt like an eternity ago, and in a burst of flames, Mesker was there, facing the entrance of his latest''s neighbor base. He might have been a holder of the Transformation Aspect, but Silhouette was first and foremost a fair man who, so far, always held his end of a deal. He had proven himself to be a very good client too, and hopefully, he would be one again. Mesker noted that the iron gate in front of the orphanage opened itself, and he mused on the surprisingly peaceful cohabitation between the haunted building''s new living residents and its spirits. He walked up to the entrance and began to knock on the black wooden door with one of his hands darkened by magic, and he wondered if perhaps he should start wearing gloves. If Silhouette were to become any more influent, it wouldn''t do for people to think he was partially corrupted. The door opened, and on the other side was one of those strange people in improvised combat gear, upgraded in some spots by plastic and metal parts. What was their name again? The Shadow Commando? "Salutations, young one. I am Mesker Duskenfer the Fourth, and I believe I have some information your employer may be interested in." Chapter 103 : Know thine enemy James hadn''t expected to be interrupted during his training by a phone call. Mischief coming to warn him about an attack on the warehouse, or perhaps even the shop? Sure, that was part of the plan, but a phone call meant the ones that needed him were the group in the Sunken City, and those should have been able to handle themselves with the Shadow Commando, a few infused, Mother Greenheld and Solvent around. Although he had done his best to keep his cool and keep his act together, he was still very nervous when he answered the call. "Silhouette here. What is the emergency?" "Uh, boss. There''s a guy that showed up at the door, I think it''s the wizard you invited in some time ago. He says his name is Mesker Duskenfer or something. He claims he has some info you''d want to hear, what do we do?" James was thankful he didn''t have lungs right now, though the temptation to sigh in relief was there. Still, what could Mesker have to tell him? He had only interacted with the mage to buy magically binding contracts and that one time to hire him as a consultant before fighting the demon. In hindsight, he hadn''t been that useful, but according to Techlord, the exorcist had kept the curious monk at bay for a while so his presence hadn''t been entirely useless. "Is he still there?" "We invited him in and put him in the same office as last time, with some snacks. We are guarding the door and a few of the nuns are keeping an eye on him while the rest is watching over the kids. Since he''s somewhat of an ally we''re being nice, but we''re also ready to rumble if he decides to pick a fight." "Good job. Solvent and I will take it from there." "Alrighty then, boss. Uh, by any chance, do you know how long we''ll have to stay here? The atmosphere''s great once you get used to the ghosts, but I''m kind of missing the sun. Pretty sure we should invest in getting food high in vitamin D at least." "Your concerns are noted. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have a meeting that may or may not completely change my plans to attend." "Ah, right. Sorry boss." James was very tempted to form eyeballs to roll right now. But, he had more important matters to attend to. He quickly readied himself and began to meditate, and as soon as he appeared in his soul space he searched for his connection with Solvent. Soon the mental link between him and the slime was strengthened, and he might as well have been piloting a robot or a video game character with the way he could immediately order his host around and perceive through its senses in real-time. A quick whisper was all it took for the bone-covering black goop to go to join the unexpected visitor in the office he had already welcomed him in the exact same way not so long ago. As soon as one of Solvent''s tendrils opened the door, the old mage turned in his seat, a roasted cockroach pinched between his fingers, and let out a pleased hum before standing up and bowing slightly at the waist, a gest James had Solvent mimic while they entered the room and closed the door behind themself. "Silhouette. It''s a pleasure to see you again." "Likewise, Mesker. My men told me you had information you wished to sell?" Mesker nodded as he returned to his seat, Solvent going around him and the desk to settle down into the leather chair facing the pyromancer. "Yes. Since you''ve been a good client and a good neighbor, I''ll tell you the first part for free: Runar tried to hire me to aid him to capture you." Solvent tensed, their body instinctively ready for a fight, but James calmed them down as he noted the verb his visitor used. "I take it you refused, and I am thankful for that. But why come to me?" Mesker took a second to answer, and James wondered if perhaps he had noted how the shadows around Solvent had grown sharper. "So you know him, then. But don''t take it the wrong way, it wasn''t just for you. My motto is that I only work on demonic problems, and you don''t qualify, it''s as simple as that. As for why I''m here..." A cunning smile formed on the thin lips of the mage. "As I''ve said, you''ve been a good client and neighbor. Runar? He and his men have the tools to properly analyze demonic energies, they know you shouldn''t qualify as a target for me. The fact he tried to hire me anyway is proof he wanted to trick me into doing the grunt work for him. He could have asked a regular mercenary but no, let''s bother the old man who made it his life''s work to exorcise creatures that put this world at risk." Mesker scoffed. "He already tried to recruit me once, you know? Back when he was first kicked out of this cabal of idiots, Wicked Witchcraft. He said he had great plans, that I could play the spy or directly support him, that together we would become the greatest magical faction Zalcien had ever seen. Rubbish, all of it. He just wants the boons of having a powerful magic noble name backing him, and since his family disowned him, he thought Duskenfer would make a fine replacement. Ah, the joke''s on him, the Duskenfer have no fancy faction to play with." By that point, the frown on his wrinkly face had turned into a self-satisfied smirk. James, on the other hand, had been a little confused by the old man''s rant. Thankfully the pyromancer returned to his more severe disposition and promptly explained himself. "I couldn''t just say no or he would understand I knew you, so I asked him to give me a few days to think his proposition over. The way I see it, he''ll realize I know more than I let on, and he''ll come after me soon. While I would more than capable of handling most of his minions, I know he has an assassin or two around, and with his magical tricks boosting them, I''m not certain I''d be able to get rid of them without getting injured. And that''s where you come in." Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. James had Solvent nod along. "If I antagonize him further, his resources will be stretched too thin to go after you." "I was thinking of something more permanent." James wasn''t expecting that. "As much as I would wish to get rid of him, I do not believe I have the means to take him down now - at least not without suffering tremendous losses. But, I assume this is the second part of your offer." "Indeed. You just have to sign a contract, and then I''ll tell you all I know about Runar, his operation, and his defenses." "What of payment?" "Well, I have a feeling Runar will get some rare materials very shortly. I''ll give you a list, when you''re done beating him black and blue and start looting the place, put those things aside and bring them to me. That will be my pay." "And if they''re not there?" "Money will do the trick. Luckily for you, if all goes well, you''ll soon get your hands on a lot of it, along with runic items that I''m sure you''ll be able to sell at a good price." "This is a very tempting offer, Mesker. Perhaps too tempting, truth be told. Are you certain you have nothing more to gain from this?" "No, no. But, there is one thing that makes this little endeavor riskier than it should be." "Let me guess, you won''t tell me more without a contract which will more or less bind me to act anyway." Mesker pulled at his wick-like beard before speaking one more with a somber tone. "Silhouette, I understand your worries. But trust me, this is your biggest chance to rip the problem in the bud. As soon as he realizes I''ve been playing him for a fiddle, Runar will change things around, making some of my information useless, and he will become more aggressive. I assume you''ve been preparing yourself to deal with him, well he has probably been doing the same. The longer you wait, the more he''ll be ready for you, and he knows more about you than you do about him. Do not forget, he may be at the head of a criminal group, but he''s a runemaster first and foremost. Preparation is their forte." The pyromancer shifted in his seat. "I''ve seen what you could do when you went against Sydakors. I''ve seen the kid''s toys. I''m certain you have what it takes to best him and his elite, all you need now is the element of surprise, and knowing what to expect." James pondered the situation. On the one hand, although he had planned to get rid of Runar, this was very sudden and meant rushing in without all the preparations he wanted to make. On the other hand... Mesker is right. The more time passes, the more he can prepare. This gives me a short time frame, but it''s my best bet to get rid of Runar. And once he''s gone, the kids and I will be able to go to the city without worrying about the people here, no one will try to track us down, and the shop will keep making a profit until we''re settled there. "Fine. Hand me that contract." There was a spark in Mesker''s golden eyes as he took out a scroll from the inside of his robes and gave it to Solvent - not a spark born of magic, but rather of joy, or contentment, perhaps satisfaction. Much like he had done once in the past during their first meeting, a tentacle emerged from Solvent''s body to unfurl the contract, and, as soon as James was done reading it and agreed to the terms, his energy flowed through his connection to the infused slime and entered the scroll where darkness appeared and morphed to spell his alias, "Silhouette", right below where Mesker had preemptively put his name. The deal was sealed, and the old demonologist took back the scroll and hid it in the shadows of his robes once more. "I must say, to this day, you''re still the only one who ever managed to put so much of yourself in one of those." "What do you mean?" "When Motiro or Marie or even myself sign one of those, it only takes the minimum of energy required to recognize your innate signature. With you? I wouldn''t be surprised if you could accidentally take over the contracts of someone less experienced than myself. That spinning ink trick is sure to intimidate them, at the very least." James wasn''t sure what to say to that, and the pyromancer didn''t wait for an answer. "So, let''s get the worst news out of the way first: Runar may have been disowned by his family and kicked out of Wicked Witchcraft in all but name, but he still has a very big contact we can''t ignore. Abrakaboom." James may not have been a local, but even he could recognize that name. "The most powerful magic user in Zalcien, at least on the Villainous side of the law. This... Complicates things." "The good news is, he likely won''t get involved in this mess. Runar is too prideful to call his friend for help. As for Abrakaboom..." Mesker''s gaze fell to his blackened hands before he let out a sigh. "Regardless of magic, a mortal mind can only last for so long before it collapses. Some species and races last longer than others, and every once in a while you get an individual who pushes the limits further than logic dictates, but at the end of the day no one lasts forever. It''s a poorly kept secret among the elite of Zalcien''s magic community that Abrakaboom is losing his mind. It''s minor things, for now, but everyone in the know agrees he won''t last for much longer. A few years, maybe a decade at best." The mage''s melancholy came to an end as he focused back on the situation at hand. "So, he probably won''t be there to help Runar, and if getting rid of that snake angers him, chances are he''ll forget about you before long, and if he doesn''t you won''t have to worry about him in a few years." "This is still incredibly important information, Mesker. Information you should have mentioned sooner" "Well, whether you planned on killing him tomorrow or in a year, Runar would still be friends with Abrakaboom and you would have had to deal with it. Now you know." James was still unhappy, but the mage ignored him in favor of continuing his explanation. "Anyway, the big thing you have to know about Runar''s security is that his office is on on the roof of his building, but it''s also covered by an incredibly powerful shield. Frankly, even with your Techzooka thingy, I don''t think you''ll be able to break through that thing. And if you try to use your powers to corrupt it away, it will take too long and his forces will have the time to go after you. You know what? Since he warned me about you corrupting magic shields, I have no doubt he''s preparing something to counter it or even a trap that will only activate if you do it." "So, attacking his office directly is out of the picture. You want me to force my through by the front door, climb up while fighting his minions, and have a final showdown against him in his office, which I''m certain is filled with traps?" "I''ll give you the address of someone. They sell a lot of fancy trinkets, including some rune disturbers. They''re not incredible and will frankly be useless against Runar and his elite, but they should take care of the minor stuff and whatever fancy stick he gave his thugs. It''s better than nothing, which is what you had until now." "What can you tell me about his knights?" "Not much, I''m afraid. Runar and I have only interacted a few times, though he gets on my nerves enough to be more memorable than some of my long-term clients. I only went to his office once, to take care of an imp he purposefully brought in to have an excuse to invite me so he could try and recruit me in his latest scheme. Every other interaction I''ve had with him was over a crystal ball. I''ve never had the chance to see him or his armored buffoons fighting." James was getting more and more annoyed by the situation. "If you have nothing to say about his defenses beyond the very basics and if you have nothing to say about him and his elite, then what can you tell me?" The old pyromancer smirked. "I''m going to teach you how to fight a mage who knows what they''re doing, and how to ruin runes while we''re at it." Chapter 104 : Completing contracts Mesker and Solvent face each other in a barren area not far from the orphanage. The pyromancer and James had agreed wielding their magic could threaten the old building''s structure if they stayed too close, hence this battlefield in the middle of nowhere. There were no lights to chase away the natural ambient darkness of the Sunken City, but neither of them was bothered by it - Mesker''s golden eyes shined through the dark and allowed him to see with ease, whereas James could share the senses of whichever infused he was currently focusing on and Solvent had never been relying on mundane vision in the first place, the slime''s eyes had always been an accessory to appear more human rather than functioning organs. And with James'' infusion''s reliance on shadows, Solvent''s night vision had been further improved. Frankly, although they were worse than those of James'' new body in this world, the slime''s senses were still more than excellent. James didn''t expect the old mage to want to start training immediately, but it made sense. If he truly had only a few days to prepare his raid on Runar''s base, he might as well start using Mesker''s offer while he was still here. Whatever he learned today would greatly influence his plan, although he already had a few ideas to take down the runemaster. He might not have existed in this world for as long as Runar, but the former pizza delivery boy had come across a lot of challenges and interesting situations since he arrived here. Certainly, some past solutions could also apply to this problem. But fighting Runar would have to wait just a little longer, for now, he had a lesson to learn. Fighting by proxy with Solvent''s body was a handicap, but James didn''t have the time to go down himself and even if he did he was certain Mesker would figure out the trick, and as friendly and useful the man had proven himself to be, he still wasn''t a true member of James'' team. Today''s ally could be tomorrow''s enemy, and unlike the infused and the Shadow Commando, the demonologist didn''t hold any loyalty to James. The sickly thin tan man in red robes covered with violet flames faked a cough in his fist, the gesture gently ruffling his long white hair. "Are you done introspecting, Silhouette?" James was very thankful neither he nor Solvent had the means to blush, though he wasn''t sure the slime could still feel enough emotions to even do it anymore. "You''ll have to forgive me for preparing myself to face an experienced exorcist like yourself. Are you certain my demonic ancestry will not react badly to your magic?" "Again, yes. The percentage of demonic energy in your general signature is so small it is dismissible. My spells will be slightly more effective at worst, though by a single-digit percentage - much like your own eldritch nature does." "I beg your pardon?" "What, you didn''t know about that?" "Well, I knew I had some eldritch origins, but they never mattered until now." The mage grumbled as he rolled his eyes. "Fine, have this as a bonus. Although I specialize in demons, during my exorcist training I had to learn about the various otherworldly entities that might try to invade and corrupt this plane of existence. Eldritch creatures are a special bunch, since rather than being a strict family or coming from a particular plane, what makes them "eldritch" is that they do not come from this universe and its various planes and planets, and even nonsense like alternate timelines." Solvent''s faceless visage didn''t express any confusion, but Mesker still tried to simplify his explanation. "Think of it like this: a plane is a room within a house which is a universe, but this universe is still connected to every room on the street, well eldritch entities come from another planet entirely. The other shared trait of eldritch entities is that their otherness is weaponized so that they counter the existence of whatever universe they entered, it is essentially a powered-up version of demons'' and celestials'' pseudo-immunity trick that requires special methods and ergo us exorcists. Whether you realized it or not, everything you do is better than it should be - you''re more resilient than any ethereal creature of your level, your spells are stronger, it''s easier for you to overwhelm people... The percentage of eldritch energy in you is incredibly low so it''s easy to miss, but it''s still more impactful than whatever you get from your demon side." For a second, James pondered if it was his body that had eldritch aspects or, based on what Mesker said, perhaps his reincarnation from another world was the cause of this specific power. But more importantly... "While I am thankful for you sharing this knowledge, why do you know I have eldritch energy in the first place?" The pyromancer waved his concerns away. "That sort of thing is pretty obvious to anyone with the right tools or senses, don''t blame me for noticing something that stood out so much. Granted, those things are hard to hide, but a man like you should be able to find a way. Now, do you want me to explain anything else or can we get on with the lesson?" "I would appreciate it if you no longer scry on me without my authorization. But yes, we may proceed, Mesker." "Good. Now, remember that I''m teaching you how to fight a mage, not be one, for that sort of lesson you better look elsewhere. To begin with, tell me how you dealt with the runic mages Runar sent after you." "Well, I-" James had Solvent throw themself to the right, just in time to avoid the fireball Mesker had thrown their way, the old mage''s eyes glowing brightly. "Lesson number one, magic itself may be eye-catching, but casting may be discreet. Never give a mage enough room to even breathe." James directed Solvent to take charge of moving their body while he would focus on discussing with the mage and using spells and his innate ability to control shadows. "That could have been dangerous, Mesker." The demonologist scoffed as a pillar of flames rose between him and Solvent, blocking the slime from charging him directly. "Lesson number two, a good magic practitioner can control the strength of their spells. There''s a minimum and a maximum of what you can do without it fizzling out or exploding in your face, but I can guarantee you won''t be harmed if any of those things hit you." As he finished his sentence, a burst of flames escaped from Mesker''s robes and spread to the surrounding area, chasing away the tendrils of shadows James had formed to take him by surprise, all the while firey pillars and projectiles kept appearing. "Lesson number three, the shields you have encountered and corrupted so far have been the basic stuff. Oh, many mages rely on those all their life, but anyone who reaches the level of someone like Runar, even if they''re not a combat specialist, learns something to improve, replace, or provide an alternative to those shields." Mesker illustrated his words by manifesting an aura of golden and purple flames that disappeared after a few seconds. "I know from Runar of your little shield corruption trick, so I knew to use this small explosion trick to keep your shadows at bay. You can''t corrupt as effectively if you can''t make continued contact, so you need to either find a way to power through those counters or rely on bigger attacks that can overwhelm the shield on their own." James followed his advice and threw the shadow bolt he had been charging silently this whole time, only for five translucent floating curved panels, each equal in size to Mesker, to appear around the pyromancer, one of them catching the dark ball of energy before turning black and crumbling away, only for a new panel to appear instantly. "Here''s where powerful single attacks lose their effectiveness: with the right method, you can nullify them and render the opponent''s energy expenditure and time of preparation useless. That''s not to say those attacks have no purpose, but they won''t be effective for every fight. Ideally, you should know a little of everything so that you have a type of attack for every situation. When dealing with a mage specifically, your best bet are sustained fire and melee combat. Most spells become unreliable if the opponent is too close. I remember in my youth a mage in training created a protective bubble too late, and instead of protecting him from the incoming punch, all it did was trap him with his assailant and prevent anyone around from interfering." Mesker chuckled as he recalled the story, more and more golden and violet flames manifesting and either throwing themselves at Solvent or blocking the slime''s path and forcing them to change their course. "Ah, that was a fun afternoon. He wasn''t harmed, by the way, just rattled by what happened. This tale illustrates the vulnerability of a mage to enemies who get too close, but most importantly, it''s one every mage knows a version of. We know our weaknesses, and so we work to overcome them. Some mages prefer to learn how to fight effectively in melee combat, while others choose to use spells that make them harder to reach. You should be prepared for both, especially when it comes to someone like Runar, snakes like him are the sort to prepare for every situation." Solvent slithered around another wall of fire and ducked beneath a fireball that flew their way, only to throw themself to the side to avoid the claws of some sort of bear made of smoke and embers, as though sculpted from the scene of an inferno, the unnatural purple glow in its eyes contrasting with its elemental body. "Lesson number four, a good mage rarely truly fights alone. The common man will rely on other people, others may use summons or constructs." James threw a charged shadow bolt at the magical creature, only for the manifested animal to explode and fade away into nothing as soon as the dark energy hit it. "Not all summons have the same purpose, and they''re not all equal. This Sylvesfire for example is a tremendous foe to the mundane, but anyone with the most basic offensive Aspect would be able to disperse it easily. It is meant to be threatening, but not much more. Magic may be born from the Soul Aspect, but it heavily relies on the mind - at least among us sapients. A fight against a mage is a mind game, where your goal is to overwhelm their ability to think." Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. More forest critters made of embers and smoke emerged from the various fires left behind by Mesker''s spells, from birds and bunnies to magnificent deers and wolves. Now that he knew their strength James ordered Solvent to ignore them and instead focus on getting to the pyromancer, though he still made sure to throw weak shadow attacks at the creatures, just in case one of them was more than it appeared. "Lesson number five, and one that is particularly important in the case of someone like Runar. Magic and casting may be enhanced by mediums, catalysts to channel the power through. Wands, staves, pendants... They take many forms, but they all serve the same purpose. Many mages rely far too much on these supportive tools, and in turn, become powerless without them. I can fight without my staff just fine as you can see, but Runar? Runar is a runemaster, his magic is focused on creating those supportive tools and utilizing them. You''ve encountered runic mages yourself, and you have seen how inefficient their combat method is. If you deny Runar the chance to use his runes and tools, victory is guaranteed." Mesker raised his blackened right hand and a dozen burning sigils appeared in the air in a circular pattern before they began to rotate, the flames throughout the barren field beginning to move in turn, slowly spinning around the demonologist. "Breaking runes isn''t quite as easy as it sounds. While under normal circumstances damaging the item they are inscribed onto or disturbing their mana manifestation is enough, runes at a higher level - at the level any proper mage would use them, including Runar - are linked together and strengthened. If you were to have a spear with a wooden shaft covered in runes of this sort, it''d be easier to break the metal tip. However, there is a way to overcome this enhanced resistance, a way over than overwhelming power. Change the runes." He pointed to the circle of sigils floating above his right palm, more specifically at one that looked quite an O or Q, with a small arrow instead of a bar. "This little one here dictates the way the Blazing Hurricane should spin - do not worry, I won''t let the spell form. Now, simply crossing it out or erasing it would cost a lot of energy, not only that but it would require enough focus that you would barely be aware of your opponent. But, if instead of trying to destroy it you simply alter the sigil and modify it to become a similar yet different one..." With his left index, Mesker pushed on the bars of the arrow to point the other way, and instantly the flames that had been spinning around him changed direction. "You change its intended purpose. Oh, here it was a little thing, but if I had changed the runic enchantment of a firearm so that instead of the projectile being ejected with greater strength it instead had little to no momentum, the weapon would become useless. I''ll give you an encyclopedia of the most common runes so that you have some idea of what to alter and into what." Suddenly, the task of learning runic magic from the mages he had infused which James had been putting off for a while because of its complexity moved up on his priority list. "Altering an existing rune into a similar one is relatively easy, all you need to do is put a lot of mana into it. The only requirement is that you must directly touch the rune and that you know what you want to change it into. Random scribbles will have no effect." James ordered Solvent to rush at the mage and to ignore whatever obstacle may appear in the way, and as he expected, as soon as the slime turned, walls of flame rose to intercept them, Solvent obeyed James'' order and ignored the blazing inferno in front of them and kept on moving forward, and just as they were about to enter the fire tendrils of darkness emerged from the ground and wrapped around the blob, shielding it from the heat. As they advanced, the flames in front of them didn''t end, what felt like an endless sea of fire surrounded them on all sides and Mesker was nowhere to be seen, instead more of those embers and smoke critters, the Sylvesfire, appeared out of thin air. Luckily for James, his and Solvent''s senses could still feel the demonologist in front of them, hidden behind the blaze. Solvent kept charging forward as fast as they could while James threw shadow bolts at the summoned creatures and blasted them apart. In a few seconds, they were out of the fire, and just before the mage, a tentacle forming and ready to grasp onto his skeletal frame... Only for the demonologist to burst into a cloud of dark smoke as soon as the shadowy appendage made contact. James had Solvent turn around, perceiving Mesker appearing out of a pillar of flames behind them, his hands behind his back. "Lesson number six, and the last one for now. A good mage, one that knows more about magic than just throwing balls of magical energies and forming protective barriers, will always have an escape plan in case an opponent reaches them. Some will rely on teleportation, others on smokes and mirrors. As I''ve already said, fighting a mage is a duel of the minds, deceiving the enemy is the key to victory. Magic is useless if you don''t use it at the right place at the right time. You should be familiar with being elusive, no?" Dark tendrils emerged from the ground, their tip sharpened into blades and aimed at Mesker. "Good thinking. True teleportation isn''t quite as simple as we might like to pretend. Chances are the trick is limited in the number of uses or range, perhaps both. If not, then maybe it takes some time to prepare." "The last Knight Runar sent after me broke some kind of crystal before vanishing." The old mage nodded. "A teleportation crystal. There are technically quite a few different types of them, but they all ultimately have the same function: either harness its energy into some kind of tool if they''re numerous or powerful enough; or break one to instantly be transported to a preemptively chosen place, either by attuning the crystal to that location or programming it with enchantments, like, say, runes." "How many of them do you think Runar has?" "At the scale of his operation? One for him, maybe one for those he trusts. Those things are expensive, and even the elite of Wicked Witchcraft avoids using them if possible. It''s easier and cheaper for them to break out of prison, after all." With a finger snap from the pyromancer, the flames around them both extinguished themselves, and James saw that as the end of their spar and had Solvent retract their tentacles. The fight felt a little underwhelming, but it made sense, it was barely a spar, more of a demonstration, Mesker used his spells to illustrate his lessons and Solvent just followed along so that James may have an idea of what could work against his target. Still, something worried him... "Do you still believe I can take him down?" "Yes, you have all the tools that you need. I can tell you weren''t using every spell you knew, I was there when you fought Sydakors, and I saw that black vortex. If you fight with the intent to kill with everything you have and make use of the toys your subordinate made, there is little doubt in my mind. At least, so long as you don''t fight with a proxy like today." What? How can he- Mesker turned around, exposing his back and his long white hair that reached his waist and began to walk away. "I met you and your puppet both, Silhouette. I can sense that, despite their similitude, your two energy signatures are still distinct. You are more eldritch than it is, and it is far weaker than you." Embers appeared out of thin air before they merged into a golden wooden staff with a tip shaped like a flame. "I don''t ask questions, Silhouette, and neither do I take sides. Runar is a special case, he tried to play me for a fool, but at the end of the day, I only involve myself with demon problems." A tiny spark emerged from the golden flame of the staff and flew high in the air. "Once Runar is dealt with, we''ll be able to return to our usual business. Until then, farewell, Silhouette." A pillar of fire engulfed the man, and just like that, he was gone. As much as he wanted to worry about his ruse being discovered, James had much more important things to do, such as preparing his own raid on Runar''s base. He could hear Techlord complaining about the added work.
Somewhere in Zalcien''s slums, in a place all did their best to avoid, a lone man in metal armor approached what had once been a hospital, now the haven of monsters and their atrocious creator. Karado had received a message earlier that day, a letter delivered by a creature akin to a furless bat. What he had commissioned the Patcher to create was supposedly finished, and as usual, the madman refused to leave his home, forcing his client to go retrieve it himself. Oh, Karadok could have sent some thugs to bring back the creature, but Runar''s right-hand man knew without a doubt that they wouldn''t dare approach. He could only hope the Patcher''s latest creation would prove itself worth the trip, and worth the deal he had signed. The knight walked up the stairs to the hospital''s entrance and knocked on its large heavy doors, each slab of wood at least thrice his height and twice his girth. Had the building always been like this, or was this an addition by its current tenant? He didn''t know, and he didn''t care. His tremendous strength made each impact of his metal-covered knuckles on the wood echo throughout the area, making it the only sound that filled the silence of these parts. People weren''t the only ones who avoided the area, the wildlife had learned better than to approach this accursed place, for the horrors lurking in the old building would do their best to catch any that came by, either to be devoured or offered to their twisted master in the hope he would be merciful, perhaps even generous. When the doors opened, it wasn''t the svelte figure of his demented host that caught his eye, despite the pointy-eared man''s impressive height putting him eye-to-eye with Karadok, a prime example of orc physiology, no, it was the creature at his side that took the knight''s attention. The quadrupedal red beast was massive, while it stood on its legs its shoulders were level with the orc''s head, and its disturbingly elongated neck tripled its height. Its red coloration wasn''t due to some odd scales or fur, but rather to its apparently exposed muscles. Its dexterous yet powerful limbs were each as long as the average man was tall, and ended in six wicked segmented claws. Its slender body, which Karadok had first thought to be covered by black and white spots, instead featured bloodshot eyes, lipless mouths, and small dark holes, each of them placed seemingly randomly with no rhyme reason, and from the beast''s haunches came a short tail ending in a bladed exposed bone. As though the horror of the spectacle of its body wasn''t enough, the creature''s terrible head existed. At the end of the long prehensile neck it currently used to look outside while its body stayed still, the creature had a bulbous massive malformed head, with two pairs of eyes on each side surmounted by short horns, and as the beast yawned Karadok got a glimpse at its open gullet and realized that each jaw was composed of a modified human torso, the ribs separated, straightened, and sharpened so that they may not only support the flesh but also be used as teeth. On the exposed bones of the lower jaw rested a tongue made of dozen different parts united together and giving it an almost spiky appearance. But the thing that had truly rattled Karadok was the noise. The moans, the guttural sounds, the cries... They were muffled, but it felt like they were dozens of things yelping and barking in the thing''s stomach. "Karadok! It''s a pleasure to see you, dear. I see you can''t your eyes off of this beauty, eh?" The orc took a second to make sure he would be composed when he answered his host''s welcome. "Patcher. I have for our order." The silver chimes dangling from the man''s ears caught the light as he slightly turned his head as his smile widened. "But of course. I must say, I am quite proud of this one. I had to recycle one of my oldest residents to ensure it could handle it, but this marvel will undoubtedly serve you well." The madman approached the beast and began to caress its flanks with his multicolored leather gloves, ignoring its discomfort as his hands touched some of its eyes. "Spine-made claws to make them somewhat prehensible so that they shift position to follow a target flat on the ground, additional and improved sensory organs so that it is always aware of its surroundings and can never be caught off-guard, with additional brains to handle all of this input and make sure only the most important information reaches the main mind. Plenty of muscles to fight and run, as well, and that''s without mentioning the exposed bones Runar will be able to engrave runes onto to further upgrade its performance." "What of its obedience?" The Patcher''s smile grew even more. "I told you, I recycled an old resident. One that is not only smart enough to understand orders but also to understand why it should obey." He looked up at the creature head''s and pointed his palm to the sky. "Isn''t that right, dearest?" The creature shivered before it lowered its chin onto the presented hand, its head''s eyes avoiding his gaze. "See? It will obey you. Just make sure to establish the hierarchy early on and all will be well. Go along now, dear, and listen to the kind knight in front of you." The beast raised its head and turned it to look at Karadok, its body moving for the first time since the encounter began as it slowly walked out, its head closely observing the orc in shining armor as its body exited the building. "Patcher, does this thing have a name? To make sure it knows when it is addressed." "Oh, yes. It does." The two leather-clad hands of the man took hold of one another as he stared at the creature. "Glapissant." Chapter 105 : The rising shadow Somewhere in the slums of Zalcien stood a building in a relatively good state. The runemaster known as Runar had elected to turn it into his domain, so the building now housed manufacturing facilities where his men produced runic items they would later either use themselves or resell. As they worked on these various floors, Runar managed the operations from his office, situated on the roof of the building where it was exposed to the open air, protected from the weather and occasional assassination attempts by a runic shield invisible unless it was hit or overcharged. And James was going to blow it up. Taking his usual Silhouette form, James stopped focusing on the building in the distance to instead take in the people surrounding him. The entire Shadow Commando, all twelve of them, stood behind him, the usually goofy and merry bunch now more severe than ever before, to the point they could rival the infused in formation next to them, the dozen of magically charged humanoids led by two former runic mages and of course Fluorine and Loedycan, the goblin and wolfman that were undoubtedly the strongest of the infused, and to the side Techlord was on his own, sitting on a crate that had been behind in the dark alleyway the group had decided to hide in for now, and laying against the same crate was a very familiar weapon with an idiotic name. Some Mischief members were hidden in the shadows and ready to act, and though James was confident only twenty of the rats had left the sewers at his side, there were now thirty of them. They all had upgraded their gear, the Shadow Commando for example now wielded weapons much like the electrorifles Barry and Larry used in their shop, though at James'' demand, Techlord had modified these weapons such that they were both capable of firing dark lightning but also regular and infused bullets, just in case Runar had some kind of enchantment ready to nullify electricity prepared after what had happened on the Black Block. Those brand new shiny weapons weren''t the only new thing the group had received, they were now all outfitted with infused armor made with a mix of metal and plastic, as well as cloth which, once filled with James'' energy, had turned into something akin to kevlar, and to top it all off, each one had a small electroshield included in the torso, ready to block a few attacks via the power of electromagnetism and whatever science Techlord was coming up with. They also each had a belt on which were securely strapped on a small mace and a knife, just in case. They had all also been given the closest thing to a riot control shield Techlord had managed to make, a slightly curved panel of black one-way-through glass with a handle, and for now, each member of the Commando had chosen to keep those attached to their back. The infused thugs had similar equipment, though they were given the prototypes rather than the final designs, Techlord hadn''t had the time to finish making everything for everyone, and James had decided that the emotionless puppets weren''t as important as his employees. The two runic mages still wore the hooded robes they had when James first corrupted them, but Techlord had added a few plates of metal and plastic to protect their vitals better whereas their grimoires and feathers had been upgraded by James to the best of his abilities, in the hopes improving the catalysts would enhance their magic. Much like everyone else present bar James, they had received masks to protect their faces and avoid gas attacks, and whereas the Commando and the infused thugs looked like elite soldiers, those two could easily be mistaken for ghosts of some kind. Hurray for psychological warfare? At least James had managed to convince Techlord not to paint theirs white or give them a skull pattern. Fluorine and Loedycan had also gotten a few upgrades, following their demands after their encounter with Speareau. The small goblin now wore a tight black leather and cloth outfit, a mix between what James would expect of an assassin, a martial artist, and a wizard. The gloves and toed shoes of the outfit had each been given a small dark green gem, embroidered on the back of the hand and over the top of the foot respectively, James had Larry and Barry buy these catalysts supposedly particularly effective for acid magic from his tattooed neighbor and technically landlady. James had shoved his shadows into them, of course. Loedycan, on the other hand, had been given a leather harness with metal plates, not unlike a gladiator''s outfit, after the wolfman had stated that the gear of the Commando would be too hot with his fur for him to fight optimally. With how dark his fur and the metal and leather of his attire were, it was hard to distinguish the two, and James wouldn''t fault anyone for mistakenly thinking most of the armor was a natural part of the wolf''s body. The mask covering his lupine visage was very distinct from the others, but ultimately followed the same pattern of a metal frame and a large black glass visor. There was a final addition to Loedycan''s equipment, gauntlets with articulated fingers with a surprise at the tip, with a flex of his muscles the wolfman could release more of his natural claws and, once they emerged, they pressed onto something at the tip of the metal fingers that released blades. Not only did this system allow him greater range, but it also could easily be concealed. Techlord had considered making something similar for Loedycan''s feet, but his digitigrade legs ended the idea. And of course, the teen genius himself had spent a lot of time upgrading his gear. For starters, he had finally finished putting all the light plating he had wished for on his bodysuit, and once that was done, he squeezed in as many gadgets and tricks into the thing as he could. Boots with springs to not only allow better jumping capacities but also damper fall damage, ranged and melee weapons of both electrical and physical types - and James was confident he had smelled something burning while Techlord was trying out his new toys and he was busy - and miniature thrusters on the back, shins, and wrists were but a few of the suit''s gimmicks. James had considered asking the teen to make similar suits for the rest of his team, but once he saw how Techlord moved around the training room and switched from one weapon to another, he realized the Commando and the infused probably didn''t have the mental capacity required to take full advantage of this sort of gear. Though James still had his doubts about the small lights spread out on the suit, he understood the aesthetic, but even if they could be turned off, they drastically reduced its stealth potential. Oh well, it''s not like I plan to have him around somewhere anytime soon. I can take care of that sort of thing myself. As the last members of the Commando finished checking their gear, James readied himself to rally the troops, so to speak. "Is everyone ready?" They all answered at once in unison. ""Yes sir!"" "Good. Dear employees and loyal servants, thank you for standing by my side today. For too long have we had to endure Runar''s lust for power and his obsession with me. Today, we end his operations to cement a peaceful future. With him out of the picture, we''ll be free to open a new base of operations in the main city without worry, our chance at prosperity. I cannot promise you will all emerge from this fight unharmed, but those that will still be by my side tomorrow are guaranteed a better life." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. James didn''t feel like he was particularly good at speeches, but since no one appeared to react, he supposed he just had to be satisfied he hadn''t particularly demotivated them. "Before we begin, are there any last-minute questions? Anything you''re not sure to understand about the plan?" A sole hand rose, a member of the Shadow Commando. "Are we getting any bonuses for this?" "No." "Oh." "You''re getting thank you donuts and, depending on the loot and how well our sales go with Runar gone, perhaps a raise." The man who had asked the question straightened his back even more. "I shall bring you their skulls, boss." "Please do not. Techlord, ready the Techzooka." The teen hopped off the crate he had been sitting on so far and picked up the glorified metal tube with a handle laid against the wooden container. Techlord took care to turn off his lights before he approached the end of the alleyway, and he did his best to stay hidden while setting up his weapon to have a clear line of fire to the building''s ground floor. After half a minute of shuffling and groaning as the teen genius searched for the perfect spot, he finally stopped before taking out an enormous black pearl from the pouch he had strapped to his belt, the orb so large it required him to use both hands to comfortably lift it and place it into the barrel of the weapon after he had placed it on the ground. It was a Core, of course, one James had sent Mischief to fetch to be precise. He had asked them to scout possible Cored beasts in the slums and to bring back the biggest and strongest Core they could find, after which James had of course infused it, but had also ordered his runic mages to improve it with their craft. Oh, it wasn''t much, simple runes with limited effects, but put together on ammunition for what had to be the greatest offensive creation of his inventor... Hopefully, it would prove more effective than it had been against Sydakors, which it should since Techlord had supposedly upgraded it. "Techzooka ready, boss." "Employees, servants, I want you to remember what you are about to see. I want you to remember exactly what you will see today, so that you may be able to tell the tale as best as you can. Let the slums remember this as the day they all learn that Silhouette isn''t another monster to be killed or beast to be tamed, but a power that they all must learn to respect. Techlord, fire at will." "Plug your ears and open your mouths, everyone, this is going to be a big one. Firing the Techzooka!" Techlord pulled the trigger, releasing a blast of pressurized darkness behind him that destroyed everything in its path until it was stopped by a wall of shadows James formed to protect the group. The modified Core flew through the air until it shattered against the building''s entrance. And the day turned to night.
Firefighter, one of Zalcien''s Heroes, was peacefully enjoying the quiet of his break, sitting on a bench in one of the city''s smaller parks. He had just finished helping the regular firefighters put out yet another fire born from a barbecue that went wrong, and since the incident was not caused by Super means, they were the ones who had to deal with the paperwork. He may have loved his job of helping out the people of Zalcien, but the man in a red and blue bodysuit with yellow augments over his torso, feet, and hands still appreciated having some time for himself. Hero work was an extremely taxing activity, to the point few in his line of duty managed to form a healthy family life. Firefighter himself had never found the time to get a partner or kids, but he didn''t mind, he preferred that over a toxic environment. Plus, he had all the familial love he could wish for with his sister, her husband, and their delightful daughter. His happy trails of thoughts soured a bit as his niece took center stage in his mind. Oh, Sarah was a great kid, but he was worried about her. He wasn''t sure she fully understood what it cost to be a Hero, and from what he learned, her relationship with her fellow trainees wasn''t great. She might only actively dislike one of them, but the fact she still put some distance between herself and the others, despite them doing their best to form a friend group and bring her in... Firefighter understood not being a people person, but he still did his best to have cordial relationships with his colleagues in his own way. They were the people who put their lives in his hands and vice versa, there needed to be trust between them. The group had done well on their test, and even the normally turbulent element known as Maledicta had shown up on time and had passed, but that didn''t ease his worries. It only meant they going on the field sooner than he would have liked, and they could put themselves in danger. He sighed. Maybe he could have a word with Mecha Man or Miss Malice to put some kind of tracking on them, just to be sure they wouldn''t nose around where they shouldn''t? No, that would be a breach of their privacy. Maybe he could ask the higher-ups to add that sort of thing to their suits so that the kids would know about it? At the very least he knew Serpent wouldn''t mind giving them so extra training if he just asked for it, the big reptile was nice like that. Maybe one of the lesser-known heroes would be open to taking them under their wings? He knew he probably would be able to, but he had noticed how uncomfortable he had made Sarah when he had dropped by while they were studying. On the one hand, he was proud of his niece for being opposed to favoritism, on the other hand, a tiny part of him couldn''t help but be saddened that he couldn''t help her as much as he wished to. He took in a deep breath and emptied his mind, he didn''t have breaks like this all that often, so he wasn''t going to waste this one worrying about his nice. He could do that on the clock. He closed his eyes and just appreciated the sounds and nature and the admittedly diminished feeling of the wind and sunlight - a firefighting helmet and a Hero suit weren''t the best things to feel things on one''s skin it turned out, not that he would complain when this gear helped him with noxious fumes. A few passers-by noticed the obvious Super sitting alone on a bench in the park, and although most of them didn''t recognize him, they wisely decided not to bother him. Besides, if a Super was out and about without a fight breaking out, it was best to assume they were a Hero on break. And as always when a Super was on break, they were rudely interrupted by someone doing something stupid. In Firefighter''s case, a terrifying howling had him immediately open his eyes and take in the surreal sight of a pillar of darkness rising from somewhere on the horizon and reaching high into the skies, though thankfully not so high that the Hero couldn''t see where the thing ended in what he could describe as a geyser of shadows. He was already back on his feet and running to the closest Union hideout to get a ride to wherever he was needed before his mind caught up to his well-honed instincts and habits and called the base to report the disturbance, though by how obvious the thing was, it''d probably be more efficient to just directly report his position and asked if he was needed on site. As soon as his finger hit the hidden button on the side of his helmet and he heard the telltale ding of an established connection, he spoke out. "Firefighter coming in, I''m the Silversilk Park, I''m on my way to the local hideout. Where does the pillar of darkness come from and what do I need to prepare?" The obviously artificial voice of a Legion answered him. "Origin of the pillar located in the slums, in the outskirts of the Black Border region, suspected Super gang war. Rejoin at the Headquarters and prepare to deal with any potential follow-up disturbance." Translation: Villains are duking it out, we''re leaving them alone, but be ready to stop any opportunist who tries to take advantage of the chaos. Just another day on the job. Chapter 106 : Encroaching shadows To tell the truth, James hadn''t expected the new and improved Techzooka and its boosted ammunition to be so effective. Oh, he had been absolutely at its performance back in the Sunken City when it had destroyed Sydakors'' prison or house, but given Techlord''s workload and the short timeframe, James had expected the upgrade would just slightly enhance the destruction and corruption brought by the weapon, not... This. The pillar of darkness seemed to emerge from the depths of the world and rose high so into the sky that James was sure everyone within Zalcien, and if he wasn''t busy preparing himself for the incoming fight he would be worried about the repercussions of that show of force. He knew the risks when he chose to start the attack by firing the Techzooka, but the damage both physical and moral the weapon could do was too important to pass up. Still, as he observed the shadowy energy that had completely engulfed the multiple stories-high building where Runar had made his lair, James couldn''t help but have the feeling it wouldn''t be as effective as he wished it too. Maybe it was just his experience with Sydakors speaking, but... James instantly bent in half, narrowly avoiding the sword that cleaved the air where his torso used to be, and before he had the time to form tentacles to seize his assailant the individual in question jumped away from the scene to the window of a nearby building, where it was promptly assaulted by two Mischief members who immediately got cut in half before the figure vanished, leaping away from James could make vaguely make out of what seemed to be a long coat. Techlord was the first to react. "What the hell was that?" "A Runarian knight, I believe. One of the two we don''t know much about. Do you think-" "You wanna know if I could handle it?" The teen genius dropped the now empty but still fuming Techzooka and did something to his suit, lighting all of the small glowing spots on it once more. "Now I can." James nodded as he took in the sight of the two undeniably dead infused rats thanks to his globalized senses. Now wasn''t the time to think about that. "I doubt an assassin would attack if they thought their employer was dead. Which means-" It was at this point that the pillar of darkness dissipated, revealing that the building was still standing - though it had still been greatly impacted by the attack. The once relatively pristine walls of the edifice were now covered in large black cracks, growing bigger the closer to the ground they were situated, though James was proud to notice even the roof appeared to be on the verge of falling apart or shattering. It wasn''t mundane blackness either, instead, the corrupting matter seemed more like a mold, emerging from the damaged stone and cement and slowly spreading to the rest of the structure. James made a mental note that the Techzooka would prove particularly effective in something like a siege, but that wasn''t their goal here. They didn''t have the resources to wait outside until the place was fully infused to make sure Runar wouldn''t stop the process, they had to end things now. James signaled the others to follow him as they left the alleyway they had been hiding in, emerging into the open area in front of the ruins in the making. "Techlord, the speaker." The armored teen took a small black box from his belt and threw it at James who promptly caught it in a tentacle before placing it roughly where his mouth should be. "Greetings. My name is Silhouette, and I am here to put an end to Runar''s numerous attempts against me and mine. If you come and surrender now, no matter your rank and identity, I will let you go. Perhaps I could even offer you a job. If you choose to stay and fight, know that you have given up on the right to mercy." James threw back the box at Techlord who easily caught it. "What did you think?" "Eh, could have been better, could have been worse." A member of the Shadow Commando commented. "Yeah, it doesn''t have the same impact when you''re not messing with the place. Back in the dark temple thingy? That was terrifying." "Yeah, a speaker doesn''t cut it for you boss. Maybe try infiltrating, speaking real loud, and then ordering the Techzooka to fire? Like, a ''behold, my infinite power'' kind of thing." Loedycan''s nose twitched before the wolfman growled. "People are coming." A few seconds later men and women emerged from the building''s entrance - after accidentally breaking the door when they pushed to open it and it fell off to the ground - all dressed in mundane and slightly dirty clothes and wielding types of basic weapons, from knives and maces to pipes and crowbars while passing by machetes and metal knuckles, and none of them appeared to have runes of them, clearly, these were the bottom of the barrel, the sacrificial lambs. Judging by the mix of anger and fear on their faces, James doubted they were here to surrender, though they didn''t get to see him. By the time the thugs left their base, only Loedycan, Fluorine, and the infused were still there. It had been a weird day for them, one minute everything was going as usual, and the next suddenly everything became dark before the writings on the walls began to glow as the place shook like there was an earthquake, then the light returned and a voice threatened them, and finally their boss'' voice came from the weird artifacts in the corners of each room''s ceiling and told them "the common thugs" to "go out there and take care of it". Many would have refused to go if the next words hadn''t been "knights, get ready as well". Still, a few of those now outside had looked out the window as soon as the darkness had vanished and had seen their attackers, so seeing many of them were missing and only a group was left was worrying, to say the least. Sadly for those perceptive few, the vast majority of the twenty people who had followed their leader''s orders hadn''t noticed the change and just rushed in for a fight. The knights would be here soon anyway, and they could deal with the Cored who manipulated shadows. One of those bloodthirsty thugs, a woman with a machete, was the first to speak as they passed the now-broken door. "Oh! Who''s the idiot trying to attack Runar''s place?!" The black goblin in front of her kept a perfectly neutral face as it answered. "Silhouette. Our master announced himself loud and clear a moment ago." The thug, as though she hadn''t heard anything, kept walking and pointed the machete at the diminutive creature. "And who the hell are you?" The small shaman flexed its fingers and a ball of green fire appeared in its palm. "Fluorine, Burning Water shaman." Seeing the magical flames cooled the thug down. She didn''t have a Core, and she knew for a fact she wouldn''t be able to handle a mage of any kind on her own. Luckily, she wasn''t alone. "Hoy, you idiots, we have a job to do!" The thugs that had come with her began to walk forward and yell various profanities, threats, and mindless screams, in hopes of intimidating their opponents. The towering wolfman with his arms crossed next to the goblin growled in response, and the noise died down. "Fluorine, should we intervene?" "Negative. Let the others handle it." The wold nodded before ordering the dozen of black humanoids behind him. "Infused, execute. Mages, prepare to counter." The mindless drones all stepped forward as one in perfect unison, and some of the thugs couldn''t help but step back in return. Fluorine and Loedycan began to walk forward, completely ignoring the various fighters in front of them as they made their way to the now doorless entrance. The woman with a machete, enraged by the disrespect, rushed at them and a few others copied her action, screaming out their frustration as they readied their weapons to strike the duo. As soon as they were within arm''s reach, Loedycan tore them apart with his metal claws, black flames escaping from them as they slashed and burned away at the flesh. The four thugs that had tried to attack him and Fluorine didn''t even get a chance to scream out in pain before they were laying silent on the ground covered in blood and growing black patches on their skin. The rest of the thugs looked on in horror at the sight, and before they had a chance to think of how to handle the situation were reminded of the dozen or so figures that were here to attack them too. The infused readied their electroguns and fired at their enemies perfectly synchronized, and the most worthless of Runar''s men yelled out in pain as black electricity invaded their bodies and fried their nerves, dark energies slipping into them and changing them forever. As Loedycan and Fluorine were about to step inside, a massive wave exited the building and grew into a gigantic wall of moving water that threatened to cover the entire area and drown the infused. Before the miniature tsunami had the chance to crash down and destroy everything in its path, Fluorine, standing on Loedycan''s shoulders, twirled on the wolfman, covering his claws in green flames that grew even bigger when the lupine''s own black fire manifested before he slashed in front of him from the ground to the sky, cutting the wave in two, putting the duo out of danger. The infused, some distance behind them, had been prepared for this eventuality: not only had the group made sure to stay behind the duo, making sure they too were in the opening the wolfman''s magic-breaking claws would form, the mages also stood in front of the others and formed shields of shadows that blocked the water coming in from the two diminished waves crashing to the side. The thugs that had been injured by the infused weren''t so lucky. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Loedycan, still hosting Fluorine on his shoulders, jumped back from the building''s entrance just in time to avoid being impaled by the ivory teardrop-shaped head of the red spear that instead pierced the ground. The white knight holding the weapon scoffed before stepping outside, his voice echoing from the familiar frogmouth helm topped by a red feather. "Fluorine, Loedycan. I heard your patron''s voice, but it is you who stand in my way?" Speareau spun his namesake weapon as he took in the situation. "So, you have troops this time. I see you also upgraded your equipment. A little too monochrome for my test, sadly, but a single touch of color could drastically improve it." Behind his helm, the knight''s eyes narrowed. "But onto more serious matters. You had the decency to offer mercy, so I shall do the same. Surrender now, and you''ll get to live. This isn''t a scouting mission this time, and Silhouette won''t have the chance to save you. Yield now, otherwise..." Water began to appear and form a trail behind the head of the spear, still spinning, while dozens of men and women joined the knight outside, these all holding at least a runic mace or knife, many also having a gun in their hands, and among them were multiple knights in plate armor and runic mages in robes with quills and open grimoires in their hands. "You''ll be washed away!"
On the opposite side of the building, the last of the Shadow Commando rushed up the black ladder directly leading to a window of the second floor. This part of the plan was simple but undeniably effective: while the expendable infused got the enemy''s attention at the front, James shapeshifted to allow the others to climb up and take those still inside by surprise. Runar''s men would have to fight on two fronts, and James was confident the Knights wouldn''t dare bring out their full power inside in fear of their base collapsing on them. The only one James could picture disregarding the obviously damaged state of the building would be Runar himself, James could easily picture the man''s office being so enhanced and protected by runes that it could survive the destruction. Inside, as the last man entered and joined the others doing their final preparation in the corner of the breakroom while a kneeling Techlord kept a lookout from the only entrance, the teen suddenly raised his hand without looking back, the back of it facing the troops behind him. The group stopped breathing as James unfurled from his ladder form to his classic Silhouette persona while slipping inside as silently as he could, idly noticing how the walls were covered in runes, and how many of the symbols were breaking, either by the wall itself cracking and slowly falling to pieces or the runes melting and spreading, like a bad tattoo. Techlord took something from his belt, a small round metallic thing with two a ring attached at the top, and with a flex of his fingers, a small spark of electricity escaped from his gauntlets and entered the thing before he made it roll from the half-open door onto the ground of the next room. He closed the door and then began to count down on his fingers, his hand raised to be in clear view of everyone. Five. Four. A muffled voice. Three. "What''s that thing?" Two. "Did someone drop their-" One. A bang echoed across the floor and Techlord opened the door wide and lead the charge, the Commando following closely behind him as James turned into a shadow and followed them from the ceiling. Beyond the breakroom was a strange sight in a building such as this one, rather than apartments or offices it appeared the floor served as a workshop where dozen of people worked to inscribe runes onto items based on the various tools and materials at their sides while being under the guard and surveillance of more of Runar''s men, though these all appeared to be wearing armor and were equipped with swords and shields, they were the knights, not quite to the level of the five Runarian Knights that the runemaster considered his true elite, but still undeniably more skilled and well equipped than any thug, after all, James and his employees had never managed to take one of them down. The dozen that had come to the warehouse with Speareau had disappeared with him, and the duo that served as Pierce Evil''s squires, though forced into a standstill by Barry and Larry''s weapons, hadn''t been injured and they too had left with their leader when he had no choice but to retreat. Sadly for them and the runic scribes, the room was currently getting filled with thick black smoke, released by Techlord''s custom bomb. James'' senses let him see through it fine, and the infused glass that made up the others'' masks let them see through darkness with no trouble - and as they had already tested, infused smoke too. As the group rushed into the room and began to fire their electroguns at the knights, James made sure to stealthily the young scribe that had picked up the bomb before it detonated and made sure to infuse her now handless arm until the feeling stopped and shadowy flesh grew to cover the exposed bone. It might not have been a grenade, but it was still more than powerful enough to maim or even kill at close range. The knights and scribes quickly realized they were under attack, doubly so once the electroguns fired and some of them began to shout in pain as dark energies rampaged through their bodies, but none of them had been equipped with runes meant to pierce through such a situation, and the only option they were left with was to fight blindly in the dark while doing their best to hold their breath to protect their lungs. Those covered in metal armor made enough noise to keep track of as they walked through the darkness with their shields ready to protect their heads, but the scribes had no such thing, and the best they could do was hide under the desks of their workstations while fumbling with their tools to come up with something. Techlord took a good look at the situation and studied how the knights were hesitantly adventuring despite their blindness and were hitting furniture and even walls as they advanced while the scribes were doing their best to stay hidden and reign in their panic, whereas the Commando was perfectly composed and each member made sure to keep track of where the others were and, despite their advantage of being unhindered by the smoke, did their best to still move as silently as possible and weren''t firing madly, but instead picking out targets and moving out of the way as fast as possible to avoid Runar''s men figuring out where they were. Satisfied by the way things were going, Techlord whispered, knowing James would hear. "I think they''ll be fine on their own. We should go on to handle the big guys before they decide to go after the small fry." A knight that was close by apparently heard the muttering since they turned and ran towards Techlord as they swung their blade, adjusting the movement at the last moment as they noticed the lights on the bodysuit, only for the teen to jump over the armored figure and grab onto the ceiling before kicking down their helmeted head with both his feet, the contraptions in his boots that boosted his strength making a dent in the metal as the knight fell onto the ground and stopped moving. The threat taken care of, Techlord let go of the ceiling, plaster falling along with him as he made to bend his knees as he landed. He then began to navigate through the workshop, avoiding any further confrontation while sneaking to the exit, the doorway that led to the stairs, all the while James was following closely behind, hidden in the teen''s shadow, and both continued, oblivious to the invisible presence of a three-eyed knight behind them, observing the Commando as he let Techlord pass. As James and the teen reached the stairwell, they didn''t need to stop to consider what to do now. They had already planned for this situation beforehand, they had concluded that attacking Runar in his office directly should be a last resort since the runemaster''s last bastion would be filled with traps and countermeasures, ones undamaged by the Techzooka''s blast, instead, taking control of each floor of the building would be safer. If they got rid of his men and of his elites, Runar would have nothing left and would be likelier to surrender without a fight James still wasn''t sure he could win. The infused were already taking care of the outside and the ground floor while the Commando was taking over the second, which left only the first, the third, the fourth, and Runar''s office on the roof. The infused could manage the first when going up, and so did the Commando with the third, which meant Techlord and James would go to the fourth. At least, they were going to before Techlord''s suit formed a magnetic shield that blocked a dagger thrown at his throat before bursting and launching back the weapon just as the teen raised his electricity-covered gauntlets and caught his assailant''s hand, covered in thick leather and holding a short sword, as always covered in symbols, including some glowing red. Based on the method and their attire, James assumed this was his would-be assassin from earlier, recognizing what he had taken for a cloak. The Runarian Knight - for what else could it be - wore a long and open gambeson, the padded cloth able to stop blades hanging down to the figure''s knees, roughly where their leather boots began. The assassin had to be the most curious of the knights James had seen in this regard, instead of the heavy plates all of the others had used this one''s armor was much lighter and used metal preciously, only small here and there to better protect the joints and vitals, and even their helmet was mostly devoid of the stuff, brown leather formed a dome that protected the head and on top of which was a band of black hair that fell back to behind the head, and from the dome dangled more leather, tied together at the front over the lower half of the face by small cords, only leaving the eyes to be seen. Despite being made only of leather, the armor still gave the knight an intimidating look, especially with the black fur attached to the gambeson''s collar and shoulders. Techlord smirked behind his mask as he looked at the assassin. "Not so good when people know you''re coming, eh?" The figure clad in leather armor grunted before suddenly overpowering the teen''s grasp and freeing their hand and jumping back, their feet attaching themselves to the wall behind them and allowing the knight to crouch with their back to the ceiling before speaking, their voice undoubtedly feminine despite being muffled. "You''re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. You pick a fight with us and invade our base? Do you truly expect to leave alive?" Black spikes suddenly emerged from behind the knight, but she jumped away before they had a chance to reach her, landing in the middle of the stairs to the first floor. "That kind of trick won''t work on me, boy." Techlord scoffed. "Leave her to me, boss. Why wait until now to attack? She''s trying to gain time." Through the thin opening in her helmet, a frown could be seen on her face. Not seeing any shadows leave and knowing James wouldn''t answer, the teen kept going. "Go ahead, what''s the point of bringing me if you won''t let me fight too? Besides, I''ve got a few toys I still want to test. I''ll catch up when I''m done." This time he saw a black flicker of something going up the wall, and although it could be a bug, he wouldn''t bet on that. The knight, for her part, quickly caught on. "He''s here, isn''t he? It wasn''t a bluff earlier then, he really came himself." A dagger fell from her sleeve to her free hand, which quickly gripped the weapon. "Tell me everything you know boy, and I could give you a handsome reward. We''re always looking for new talents." Techlord let out an amused huff as he took on a combat pose. "What are you, human resources?" "In a sense. I am Medraw, Runar''s trusted when it comes to trade relationships. And who are you, boy?" Once more he smirked behind his mask, just as the lights of his suit glowed brighter. "I''m Techlord, inventor extraordinaire, and essentially Silhouette''s number two. But more importantly, I''m the guy who''s going to beat you to a pulp." "That''s it? That''s your best line?" "Actions speak louder than words."
On the fourth floor of Runar''s base, a beast woke up. It knew its target was approaching. And for the first time in this form, with this flesh and these bones, it would get to hunt. Glapissant couldn''t wait. Chapter 107 : Underling fights James could tell something was very wrong with the fourth floor of Runar''s building right immediately after he went out of the stairwell. Without considering the ruined runes spreading on the walls caused by the Techzooka, the atmosphere and the decor were just off. The windows were all closed and boarded, the floor was only illuminated by weak lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling and protected by the barest lamps he had ever seen - though he could also see the symbols on them, hinting that they were more than they appeared. Unlike the second floor, the fourth wasn''t a single open room, instead, it seemed to be a labyrinthine hallway with dozens of closed doors. There was no furniture, no decoration, no painting, just plain off-white walls with black symbols and, what truly worried him, oddly shaped groves in the cement, plaster, and padded floor, things he could only describe as claw marks. None of his information about Runar mentioned anything about any kind of animal or even bestial fighter like his own Loedycan, and James doubted that a wild monster - for what else could be big enough to make such large marks and sneak in - had found its way up here, with all the thugs and security on the previous floors, and right under the runemaster''s nose. There was an unknown creature on the fourth floor, and it put a wrench in his plan.
Larry, Barry, Mark, and Jeffrey weren''t feeling very good right now. They had just closed the store in advance, telling their customer that their employer had just set up an emergency meeting and they needed to go, and were now walking as fast as possible - running would attract unwanted attention from thieves and hungry Sicklers - to the warehouse accompanied by a pair of infused guards, wearing strange basic armor that was a mix between riot gear and sports equipment. Not that the duo of emotionless drones wore the most eye-catching gear out of the small group, Larry and Barry''s white and black suits were quite the sight in any setting, and out there in the slums, they were even more remarkable. Mark and Jeffrey also got some new stuff, though it was very recent. The two former goons of Soluble had agreed it was more probable their boss was just that worried about the incoming threat rather than them gaining his trust, understandably so, as they had been part of the group sent by Runar by proxy to raid Silhouette''s home after all, and they hadn''t surrendered as fast as those that now formed the Shadow Commando did, not to mention they had antagonized him and Larry and Barry previously. Really, the fact they were still alive and getting a decent pay far better than whatever they managed to racket or steal or get out of selling scrap with Soluble was a pleasant surprise. Even their former nemesis duo had been quick to let their old grudges go after a few work-intensive weeks. The lizardman and the ratkin''s new gear was relatively simple, compared to what the other brute force minions got. They now wore padded black leather pants and jackets with some small metal parts that would have been at home on bikers, though Feffrey''s jacket was usually tied to his waist to avoid overheating because of his fur. In addition to the clothes they also got pendants, largish round pieces of metal with a single pearl-like item in the center, supposedly those were portable versions of Techlord''s latest electroshields. And the weapons! How could they forget the weapons! Their brand new shiny daggers of black metal were beautiful things, and somehow they were even sharper than they should be, as they had tested on small sheets of metal when trying them out for the first time. Of course, along with the melee weapons, the duo had finally been trusted to have infused firearms - regular guns, not the energy launchers Larry and Barry got, but still more powerful than anything they could have ever hoped to get on their own. Still, for all their valuable equipment and years of experience living in the slums, the small group didn''t feel at ease. Their job was to catch the attention of any of Runar''s men currently not in their base to lead them to the warehouse, where the workers had all been given a free day, and although they were equipped more than well enough to deal with any lambda thug or even a mage or a knight or two, there was always the risk of catching the attention someone higher up in the hierarchy of the runemaster''s organization. To be specific, Silhouette had told them of one particular individual who might be willing to ignore a call to return to base in favor of antagonizing them. A certain someone the shopkeepers and their former enemies were more than familiar with after his latest assault on their workplace. A certain someone Jeffrey was confident he could smell. "Uhhh... I think he''s here..." Mark''s scaly tail straightened at that while Larry and Barry stayed surprisingly calm once they got past the initial shivers down their respective spine. "Don''t worry guys, we''re almost there!" "Jeffrey, is he alone? This is very important." The smallest member of the group scrunched his pink nose in search of additional nearby scents. "I think? I can smell a few more people, but they''re like everyone else?" Mark was visibly holding back from pestering his oldest friend, but luckily for the lizard''s temper, the ratkin was not the only member of the group with an overly developed olfactory sense, for that was also Larry''s trick. "Alright, they''re getting in range for me. Yeah, there''s the golden knight and a few other people around, but none of them have any trace of him on them, and they''re also quite distant from him. I think those are the scouts the boss told us about." The shorter bald brother with mutton chops nodded thoughtfully. "He made too much of a mess last time, no one else is willing to follow him. Alright, the warehouse is right around the corner, so as soon as we see it, we run in without looking back, got that you idiots?" Larry happily nodded, his greasy hair and oddly his goatee moving as his head moved, whereas Mark and Jeffrey just shared a look at the brothers'' antics. "Alright. Get ready. Three, two, one..." As the group turned around the corner, suddenly a strong wind blew past them, so fast dust was raised and blinded most of their vision for a few seconds... Only to fall back down and reveal the man in golden jousting armor covered in lightly glowing magenta runes, his arm raised and pointing a very familiar rapier of shining metal covered in similar violet symbols leaking energy at the group. "Surrender, or fall to the blade of Pierce Evil."
Loedycan and Fluorine stood side by side as they stared at Speareau, Runar''s white knight, as well as the various thugs and mages and armored foes accompanying the man, all of them wielding at least one piece of runic equipment and quite a few also bearing firearms. As magical water escaped from the ivory-tipped namesake weapon of the knight, the elite duo of James'' infused readied themselves for a fight, copied in perfect synchronization by a dozen of others who had been permanently changed by James'' infusion of shadows, their own two mages looking like grim reapers already beginning to write in their black grimoires with their enchanted quills. Speareau let out a sigh as he twirled his spear, the water manifesting from it forming floating trails in the air. "Very well. if you wish to throw away your lives, then I shall grant it. But enough talk, have at thee!" The white knight leaped ahead, the tip of his spear aimed at Fluorine''s head, and Loedycan jumped in the way to deflect the weapon with his metallic claws, phantom black flames suddenly emerging from the blades and from where his eyes should have been, the fire harmlessly passing through the black glass of the mask behind which the hollow sockets rested. The black flames and the unnaturally blue water clashed for the few seconds the opposing weapons were in contact until Speareau stepped back and twirled his spear once more, just in time for the ivory shoe of his shaft to block a ball of dark green fire thrown at his face by the goblin shaman, the movement also leading some of the magical water flowing from his weapon to form a projectile that flew in turn to Fluorine''s head before it caught the attack with one his new gem-mounted gloves, the water turning to green while the wolfman and the spearman traded more blows until Fluorine deemed it ready and launched it back, forcing Speareau to step to the side to avoid both Loedycan''s claws and the incoming magic acid. But the leaders of the two groups weren''t the only ones to fight, for the infused and Runar''s men followed in the trio''s footsteps. The infused fired their weapons at the thugs, aiming to get rid of any with a firearm on their person, and despite the runic mages'' best efforts to form shields in time the corruptive bullets passed through and thugs fell. The infused in dark robes closed their books at the same time, and their shadows grew to spread to reach the thug and dark tendrils began to emerge and assault everything close enough. Runar''s forces weren''t idle either, though most of the thugs with firearms were being gunned down some managed to bring out their weapons and shoot blindly at the infused, only for a wall of shadows to rise every time and catch the bullets before they had to wound anyone, the runic mages, with panicked faces, wrote as fast as they could in their grimoires to both protect themselves from the dark tentacles and launch spells at the other side''s magical forces to keep them occupied, and the knights tore through whatever shadowy appendage rose from the ground with their swords while keeping their enchanted shields in front of them to block the ranged assault, the combination of magic and metal barely enough to protect Runar''s strongest non-elite goons from joining the ranks of bodies on the ground with blackness growing on their skin. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! As focused as they were on their fight, Fluorine, Loedycan, and Speareau still did their best to stay aware of how their underlings were doing, and Speareau didn''t like what was happening one bit. Disregarding the two former warehouse managers that had become much stronger since their last encounter, Silhouette''s forces were mowing his troops down. He never liked losing people, but he couldn''t help with the duo fighting him, and he couldn''t go all out either without risking casualties on his side. As a black metal claw covered in shadowy magical fire nicked at his white armor and he in turn cut away at the wolfman''s dark fur with the ivory tip of his spear, the white knight couldn''t help but wonder what were the other Runarian knights doing to leave him alone to fight such an obvious threat. A possible answer formed in his head, one that shocked him enough to lower his guard for a brief second, enough for Loedycan to strike at the white armor and send the man flying through the air until he gathered himself and formed a bubble of water to surround himself to cushion the fall and protect him while he got back into position. There couldn''t possibly be more of Silhouette''s forces inside, surely? Otherwise, he might just have to stop worrying about casualties.
Things were going well for the Shadow Commando. They had just finished taking out everyone that was unarmored on the second floor, even those hidden beneath their workstations to be sure they wouldn''t suddenly pop out and fire any runic gizmo they might have improvised during the attack, and the few knights that were still standing were well on their way to be put out of commission as well. Their shields might be able to block their bullets and energy blasts, but with all the black smoke in the air they couldn''t see a thing and thus it was easy for members of the Commando to just sneak around behind them and fire at their blind spot. Although they did their best to keep their professionalism and their gear made look quite intimidating, on the inside, Silhouette''s employees were all quite giddy with their performance. This was the first big operation where their presence truly mattered, and they were doing exceedingly well. As the last knight fell and only the Commando was left standing, they couldn''t hold it back anymore. "God, that was so cool." "Yeah! Techlord''s grenade, the black smoke, us rushing in... Nine, I still have thrills." "It was like we were one of those cool strike teams the big names have." "Dude, we are a cool strike team for a big-name Super. It''s just he isn''t famous yet." "Eh, I dunno, the boss doesn''t strike me as the type to want fame and glory." "Or infamy!" "Or infamy." "Forget about that stuff guys. Just look at us! We defeated a bunch of guys who would have absolutely destroyed us just a few weeks ago!" "Sniff... My mum''s gonna be so proud..." "Alright, enough hyping ourselves up. We still have the rest of the building to take care of." "I can''t remember, are we supposed to go to the third directly or go to the first and meet up with the ground team before going back up?" "Third." "First." "What? No, we keep going until we meet back up with the boss and Techlord." "No, we go down to fetch and possibly support the ground team and then we go meet the boss." "No, he''s right, think about it: they''re already on the fourth, since we''re done here we go take care of the third so they won''t be taken by surprise by a pincer attack." "Yeah, but before that, we need to help the ground team clean up the first so that we don''t get caught by a pincer attack." Unseen by all, a three-eyed knight''s temper was being vigorously tested by the ongoing stupidity. "So... We split up and do both?" "No, don''t split up, that''s rule number one. Remember the last time we split up? Little hint, everyone else died and we got a new job, and spoilers, I don''t think we''ll have the same luck twice." "Okay, fair. So, what now? We argue until the ground team comes here and we rejoin later than planned with the boss?" "We could try Shifumi." "Uh?" "Rock-paper-scissors." "Oh! Yeah, sure." "Guys, we don''t have the time for everyone who disagrees to participate." "Eenie meenie miney moe?" "That''s for kids, dude." "And rock-paper-scissors isn''t?'' "I''ll have you know Shifumi is a highly respected tradition, you ignorant plebeian." "Why you little..." "Guys, what about a coin toss?" "Uh, sure. What for what?" "Heads, we go meet up and meet the brains of the operations, tails, we go down and meet the latest guys." "That makes sense to me. Alright, anybody has a coin on them?" "Uh... Drats, I think they were in my other pants." "I never carry money on the job. If I die and they loot me, they''re not getting anything." "Dude, your gear." "Yeah, but the boss would probably get them within the week if they used it." "Uh." "Guys, a little focus?" "I have a coin on me, but it''s a two-headed one." "You cheater! We bet our watches on that coin!" "Hey, none of you ever caught on in weeks, that''s on you. Besides, you don''t see me complaining about your cards, mister ''I always have an ace of hearts'', um?" "Jack! Don''t tell me it''s true!" For Tristare, The Runarian Knight in charge of assassinations and intelligence, this was the last straw. Never before had he seen such sheer idiocy, at least not in sapient adults, and particularly not in a death squad that somehow managed to be ruthlessly efficient. He had hoped he could learn more by listening to them, but no, there was nothing to learn here, if anything he could feel some of his neurons quietly dying the longer the discussion went on. No, these cretins had nothing of value to reveal bar the bare minimums of the plan of attack Silhouette had come up with, and even that information was faulty. He had had enough, for the sake of Runar and his dwindling sanity, he had to get rid of these lemmings. Though what remained of his professionalism reminded him that torture might get something useful out of them, and thus it would be for the best to take them alive. "-and I''m telling you, flip the bottle would be a fine replacement for a coin toss!" "But how? Hell, even if it worked, we don''t have any bottles either." "Let''s just use one of those guys!" "Or one of their tools." "Yeah! A sword is roughly bottle-shaped." Jack swore he could hear someone gritting their teeth before he saw Bob suddenly falling limp on the ground. "Bob!" Jack was ready to ready to rush in, but he stopped himself. The way his colleague had fallen was weird. It wasn''t someone tripping over or even having a heart attack, if anything it looked closer to one of those silent takedowns he had seen a more experienced mercenary do on one of his former jobs, just without the assailant, just the victim. Wait... "GUYS! STOP!" The rest of the Commando, all ready to go and help their friend, froze in their tracks and turned to Jack. "There''s someone invisible! Stay togeth-" Jack too fell to the ground, or more accurately, had been taken down by Tristare. The knight with a chainmail veil had to give credit to the idiot, for such an imbecile, he had caught on to the trick pretty quickly. The overwhelming stupidity of the group couldn''t possibly be a foil, surely? "Oh my god, they killed Jack!" "I don''t wanna die!!!" No, the knight was reassured, they were genuinely dumb. Still, the Commando followed the advice of their fallen comrade, they met up in the cent of the floor and grouped up, standing shoulder to shoulder and facing all possible directions to cover their backs, with a few even aiming up at the ceiling and down at the floor. Having a shapeshifting shadow boss taught you a few things about where opponents could come out from. "So... Invisible guy. Wanna come out and talk?" Silence. "Uh, should have guessed so." "Okay, what''s the plan?" "Shush, he could take us down-" "Assuming it''s a man, are we?" "Fine, they could take us down despite the smoke, so my guess is they had developed senses beyond sight, so they hear everything, so don''t talk and use sign language instead." "What sign language? You mean the stuff Techlord taught us what, yesterday, in like, thirty minutes?" "The mercenary stuff! I mean, we all went through some training before we went on jobs, right?" "Uh..." "I''m what you''d call a freelancer." "I picked up a gun for the first time last year." "I did go through some training, but I kinda sleep on the hand signs part. In my defense, I lived next to a Sickler nest at the time, so I was busy trying not to die at night." "Alright, that one''s fair. But seriously guys?" "Dudes, you''re assuming invisible menace over there can''t see a thing. What if it''s the opposite? What if they have Super vision and don''t care about the smoke? What if they could see everything? Like, X-ray vision kind of stuff?" The sole woman of the Commando furrowed her brows, not because of what was said, but rather because the very faint sound of gritting teeth reached her ears. "So, enough tomfoolery. How do we take them out? The boss won''t be around anytime soon, and I''m not sure the ground team has what it takes to deal with invisible threats." "We could fire all at once in every direction, maybe even spin to cover more ground? Techlord said the new electrorifles can have sustained fire, like a ray, right?" "Sure, but if mystery menace over here can avoid everything, they have a perfect opportunity to slip in and take us down all at once." "I mean, I don''t think they have a grenade, otherwise they could have used it already, so they would have to do the job manually." "Yeah, and they don''t seem that tough. I mean, they went after Bob and Jack when they were alone, and let''s be honest, they weren''t the best of the bunch." "You''re still salty over the cards thing?" "I bet two weeks of pay on a friendly game with that filthy cheater! I could only eat canned food! CANNED FOOD!" "Whoa, woe is you, able to eat actual food in clean containers." "Canned tastes disgusting!" "You take that back dude!" "NEVER!" She heard it again, that sound. And silently, without a single muscle on her face twitching, she got an idea. "Dominic?" "Yeah?" "If you hate canned food so much, why not go after the cockroaches? They''re free after all, and I''m sure Mischief would have shared." Though black glass was hiding it now, she knew her colleague''s face was probably redder than a tomato at this point. Dominic was a food diva, and there was one thing he hated above all else. "BUGS. AREN''T. FOOD." "Sure they are, Mischief loves them. Hell, most of us ate some roasted roach at some point. Not like there was else in the Sunken City." "BUGS ARE THE FILTH OF NATURE, THE REJECTED UNEDIBLE WALKING ROT BROUGHT BY THE HERETICAL SINS OF MAN." "Aren''t bugs arthropods? And aren''t those, like, one of the first things that evolved, long before fish and mammals and even plants? "THEY ARE THE LEFTOVER MISTAKES OF AN UNCARING AND INCOMPETENT GOD." The sound of gritting teeth grew louder and louder, and just as Dominic opened his mouth to continue his rant- BANG. The Commando looked in shock at their female colleague who had just turned around and seemingly fired at their friend, only to then turn to their friend and instead see the knight covered in chainmail and clutching at his shoulder standing just in front of Dominic. They ignored how blackness was already spreading from the wound - they had grown accustomed to all that infusion stuff - and instead all raised or lowered their weapons to aim at the now visible man, and as the world began to distort and his body quickly turned translucid they fired wildly, and the body became visible once more as it hit the ground. As one they all turned toward her. "Weaponized stupidity. Every self-proclaimed genius'' downfall. Now, let''s check on the two idiots and secure this guy before we go to the third." "Don''t you mean the first?" "No." Chapter 108 : The beast and the knights Still hidden as a shadow on the ceiling, James carefully explored the fourth floor of Runar''s building, jumping from dark spot to dark spot and fleeing from what little light was present, doing his best to find whatever creature had left those strange curved claw marks before it found him, all the while avoiding any possible trap the runemaster might have left. The fourth floor was a confusing maze made of a single hallway that kept turning with locked doors on the walls occasionally. Since he was here to clear the floor of any possible threat, he had made sure to peek inside each room in search of any hidden opponent by slipping through the gaps to get a better view than what his omnidirectional vision could glance from outside. Every room had been empty so far bar for a single stone pillar covered in runes in the center of each, and James'' rudimentary knowledge of the symbols he had to learn as quickly as possible told him it would be for the best not to dabble with those for now. It would be incredibly stupid to try and mess with one only to blow himself and the rest of the building up, doubly so since his employees were still inside. Still, the layout of the floor was confusing, to say the least, and although the stone pillars appeared to be what kept the shield protecting Runar''s office active, he couldn''t help but feel like there was something else to it. Surely this wasn''t all the fourth floor had to offer, was it? A growl broke him out of his reverie. He could sense it, right around the corner was the creature he knew resided here, and he now could hear the odd clicking of its claws on the floor, not the high pitch of a cat''s hollow claws or a dog''s more solid sound, but rather something oddly long, loud, heavy, and reverberated that echoed with each step. And as it walked closer, still out of James'' sight, he began to hear something else. Muffled moans or shrieks, mournful noises that struggled to escape from whatever was holding them, with the loudest being eerily close to a dog''s yawn or cry but still distinct enough to just feel wrong. Then the thing''s head finally appeared, a heavily deformed thing that looked more like two torsos next to one another than anything nature could ever conceive, and from the ribs and spines that lined the inside of each jaw that the beast revealed as it opened its maw and let his powerful tongue hang out, the overly muscled appendage seemingly formed of dozens of tongues put together and resulting in a spiky yet blunt appearance, saliva freely flowed onto the ground where a large puddle formed. The thing''s short bony horns scrapped against the ceiling as it raised this monstrous head of bloated flesh and thin bone, and the two pairs of eyes on each side of this grotesque visage were fixed on where James, still a shadow, stood on the ceiling. Its jaws closed slowly, only for the tongue to go out as the thing licked its chops, the muscled appendage easily flipping the skin that could barely be called lips as it passed over the ribs-turned-fangs, all the while its head got closer and closer to James as he slowly backed away, and yet the only thing emerging from the corner was just more and more neck, with the body still behind hidden out of sight - something which, frankly, James was thankful for he didn''t dare imagine what horrible vision he would soon have to face, the abominable creature''s head already being the most disturbing thing he had seen in person in both his lives, easily surpassing the blob of tendrils and the wings of veins of the demon Sydakors. James could only hope the thing wasn''t as resilient as the demon, otherwise, he might very well have to bring down the entire building to stop it.
Techlord, in his latest Techsuit, was carefully analyzing his opponent, Medraw, one of the two mysterious Runarian Knights no one in his employer''s contacts knew about, a completely unknown element they hadn''t been able to prepare for, and who so far had shown impressive speed and a knack for stealth, judging by her two attempts to kill someone during the raid Sam would say she was probably trained as an assassin, but on the flip side, it was very likely her speed and stealth came mainly from the runes on her leather armor, and thus her skills could be rather lacking. That seemed to be the trend for Runar''s troops: average or incompetent people given equipment that let them rival Cored with basic yet impressive powers. Without the backing of Wicked Witchcraft, Runar couldn''t tempt truly powerful people to work for him and do big jobs, and he couldn''t produce the strongest runes in his catalog which could convince them since they required resources that were too rare for him to obtain or too expensive for his limited funds. It was a vicious cycle yet one the runemaster was on the verge of overcoming with his operation, at least until he crossed paths with Silhouette. It could be seen as a tragedy, really, one Sam could sympathize with in some ways since he too had to crawl from the bottom and work with insufficient materials for years, only for his progress to be ruined by an unfortunate encounter with a powerful Super. Sadly for Runar and his lackey, Sam didn''t care one bit about their life story. As she leaped from place to place in the stairwell in hopes of confusing him before she struck, Techlord ignited his latest Techboosters, though he took care to angle them so he wouldn''t move one bit. When he heard the sound of metal slashing through the air, he shifted one of his legs, allowing the power of his thrusters to turn him faster than the assassin could react before they deactivated and then punch the dagger she held out of her leather glove, though she managed to touch the ground with her foot and redirect her course before his electrified gauntlet could shock her - not that it had seemed effective the last time, her leather armor was already a better insulator than her fellows'' metallic gear and he and his boss had already guessed that Runar would have upgraded his elite''s armors to better resist the electricity which had decimated his underlings during Pierce Evil''s attack. Medraw didn''t bother to get back the dagger she had lost, instead, a new one appeared from out of her sleeve and dropped into her free hand, the other already occupied with holding the short sword covered in runes that she was currently trying to stab Techlord with, attacking his back now that his thrusters were inactive and thus he wouldn''t be able to turn as fast as he did. Rather than try and block and deflect this attack too, Sam chose to let it come, the electroshield of his suit automatically coming to life and repulsing the metal as soon as it came close enough for the suit''s sensors to detect it as a threat. The blade stopped for a second before suddenly breaking through the glorified magnetic field, but by that point, Sam had twisted his torso just enough for the sword to miss him by a hair''s breadth, putting the still advancing Runarian Knight just in range of his own blades, the basic slab of sharp metal emerging from the top of the guard on his forearm emerging in a flash thanks to a small mechanism hidden behind it, and aimed straight at Medraw''s head. The assassin had caught on to Techlord''s tactics though, and with her foot still on the ground flexed her muscles to divert her course, avoiding the small blade as she turned in the air to land feet first on the wall, her leather boots magically attaching themselves to the surface with no care for gravity and letting stand in parallel to the ground effortlessly as she threw her dagger at Sam''s face before taking something out from the inside of her gambeson as the teen avoided the weapon and aimed at her with his arm, Medraw jumping onto the opposite wall just as the miniature electrogun beneath his wrist fired, the small bolt of dark energy harmlessly dissipating into the off-white wall of the stairwell, only a small growing patch of darkness the size of a grain of salt slowly spreading to the nearest runes inscribed on the walls being left as a sign of the attack. Behind his black glass mask, Sam frowned. He hadn''t been present at any of the fights against a Runarian Knight so far, but from what he''d been told, there was something odd going on with Medraw''s runes - they should have been glowing. Pierce Evil and Speareau''s armors and weapons always glowed with a distinct color whenever they activated their equipment''s functions, and yet the woman in leather armor, despite her feats of speed and defying gravity, showed no sign of a similar tendency, aside from the red glow on her shortsword when she attacked him right after throwing a dagger at his throat. "You don''t look so confident now, boy." Sam could admit he had a bit of an ego, but he wasn''t stupid enough to fall into that sort of trap. His opponent didn''t know that, however, and this could be a great opportunity to gain time while he pondered on the oddity and maybe gain some more information. "Says the woman who can''t land a single hit." "The pot calling the kettle black. A classic." She was right. His suit let him become fast enough to manage her attacks, but her speed and ability to bounce off walls like that let her avoid his ranged weaponry and keep some distance between them, denying him the chance to close in for close combat. As new and improved as he claimed his suit to be, it still lacked a few functions the last model he lost along with his mech had, and right now he dearly missed the sonic abilities of his former helmet. A good screech or kinetic burst might have been able to catch her off-guard, but for now, he would have to deal with her with the weapons at hand. Still, the fact her armor''s runes didn''t light up bothered him. Was everything so far her natural abilities? No, the assassin strikes him as the type to get the job done and not play with her targets, she would have already gone all out if she could do more unless it threatened her life or the building itself. There was something here, something he wasn''t seeing... Wait, where were the daggers she had abandoned earlier? He didn''t see them anywhere. They were still roughly on the same level of the stairwell, they couldn''t have fallen to the next floor, he would have heard them. Sam narrowed his eyes as a theory began to form in his mind, and he decided to put it to the test. "So, you''re just going to jump around and avoid me until all your friends are dead? I''m not sure corpses pay well." "You do not understand boy. It is you and your ilk that will fall today. Do you genuinely believe a team of failures like yours can take down someone like Runar who''s had years of experience?" Yes, now that he focused on it, he realized there were more odd things about Medraw. Her face bar her eyes might have been covered by leather, but he should still have been able to see her talk with the movement of her chin, and yet, nothing. Similarly, now that he took a good look at her chest as they both stayed still, he realized it didn''t rise and fall as it should have, even in a fancy runic suit she would need to be breathing unless she was an undead of some kind, but then why would she have bothered evading his blade, slashing or stabbing damage on such a small scale wouldn''t have been particularly harmful without the risk of bloodloss? Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. He chose not to answer her question and rather went on the offensive, his thrusters giving him a boost to leap at her as he readied his fists for an attack, blades emerging from his guards and ready to slash. As expected she jumped away from her spot and took advantage of the situation to throw a dagger at him, hoping that now that he was in the air he wouldn''t be able to dodge it. Instead, the small thrusters of his armor lit up once more as they drove him away from the sharp metal, but instead of pursuing his opponent Techlord chose to try and catch the dagger, and though he failed and the weapon landed out of his sight he still managed to catch how Medraw''s eyes had widened at his manoeuver. There was definitely something he didn''t know at play here, but now he knew he was on the right track to figuring out how to take out the assassin to let him rejoin Silhouette. He wasn''t even aware of the smirk that appeared on his face as he realized this was now a duel of intellects, and that she had no hope of winning.
James slithered as fast as he could away from the monstrous creature''s head as it suddenly opened its jaws and bit the ceiling where he had just been on, and somehow he got even faster as the head continued to follow with its maw exposed and guttural howls escaped from the depths of its gullet while straps of James'' shadowy flesh clung to its terrible fangs, and the thing''s legs and torso finally appeared from around the corner they had been hidden behind as the abomination ran after him. The legs that ripped through the walls and the floor as they propelled the beast as fast they could were as red and raw as the flesh of the head, and they had to twist in disturbing positions to give enough space for the rest of the body and its oversized neck to fit in the hallway, forcing the creature to crawl, yet for all the discomfort such a position should be bringing the thing was still fast enough to keep up with him. Each leg of the creature was thin yet overly muscled and ended in strange claws, long sharp things made of segments that let them bend - segments that looked eerily simal to vertebrae. Along with the legs, the creature''s body also entered James'' senses, and the sight of those countless eyes and mouths and holes littered on the abomination''s side managed to surpass the ignominy of its head, especially when he realized that the muffled moans and cries and yelps all came from deep within this cluster of misplaced facial features. Realizing that the monster was as fast as he was, James decided to try and outsmart the creature rather than thoughtlessly retreat while attempting to outrun it. He let himself fall from the ceiling just in time to avoid the powerful clapping of its jaws and slithered on the ground to hide in the thing''s shadow while he readied his magical attacks. The head at the end of the unnervingly long and prehensile neck looked confused for an instant until one of the eyes on its flank looked right at James and the head turned around and bit, the ribs it used as teeth snapping on nothing as James resumed his flight, this time toward the end of the hallway rather than where he had come from. He hadn''t escaped the thing''s notice as he had hoped, but he still got what he wanted in the end. James continued to prepare a powerful shadow sphere inside of himself, trusting his memory and exploration of the fourth floor to know there was no runic stone pillar he could accidentally destroy behind the creature, meaning he didn''t have to worry about them exploding and damaging the building while his employees were still inside if he attacked, and as dexterous as the abomination had proven itself to be he was confident that with its size it would take a while to turn around and face him again, leaving him enough time to fire his attack before the creature was ready and could try to avoid it. At least that was the plan until the thing''s neck bent over its back and hang upside down over its short stubby tail and it suddenly began to run backward with no issue, catching James by surprise and letting the thing get another taste of his shadowy flesh before he turned into his rapid spider-like Skitter form and ran away as fast as possible, the beast following him with no issue. James fired his charged shadow bolt at the thing''s open maw, only for the magical attack to bounce back and go through a wall. This was going to be a problem.
Back outside, in the small court in front of the building''s entrance, the battle between James'' infused and Runar''s basic forces was still going. Although the number of thugs with runic equipment was quickly dropping, the mundane knights and the runic mages managed to cover each other, the enchanted metal shields and the magical runic barriers working together to protect them from the various corruptive projectiles the infused fired at them, be they bullets, electricity, or spells. Still, protecting themselves only delayed the inevitable for James'' forces began to advance to put an end to the fight, at least they tried to until a wall of magical water rose from the ground and blocked their way. Speareau grunted as he did his best to ignore the pain from the punch Loedycan had just landed on his torso, taking advantage of the opening in the white knight''s guard as he protected his subordinates from the onslaught of shadows. Still, the Runarian Knight managed to focus back on the fight and twirl his spear just in time to block a claw strike and angled his weapon once more to pierce the incoming ball of dark green flames with its ivory tip, nullifying Fluorine''s shamanistic spell. Though he managed to hold his own against the two warehouse managers, it was obvious Speareau was the most winded of the three, his once pristine white armor was now covered in black cuts, thankfully none of them managed to damage his runes, but it and the many bruises beneath on his skin still infuriated him since his two opponents barely were in much better condition, the wolfman completely ignored the couple of small wounds leaking black blood from his fur and the goblin only a few scratches. The white knight stepped forward and stabbed at Loedycan and the bipedal canine sidestepped the attack before stepping closer with his metal claws ready to tear away at the white metal and flesh beneath before he was pushed back by a wave of water formed by another twirl of the enchanted spear, more magical water still emanating from the weapon and coalescing to form a shield to block more fireballs from Fluorine before it shifted once more to block the goblin itself as the shaman used green flames on its feet like skates to quickly approach and attack Speareau with a fist glowing with power that only solid water before Fluorine turned its torso to the side just in time to avoid being impaled by the ivory tip of the knight''s weapon, the spear only cutting through the dark grey flesh of the shaman''s side. The three traded more blows for a short while before they were suddenly interrupted by a powerful explosion somewhere above them, and though Silhouette''s forces ignored the detonation Speareau quickly formed a bubble of water to protect him as he looked up to the sky, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of unnaturally black smoke escaping from a hole in the wall of the fourth floor. His fears had been confirmed, Silhouette or one or more of his powerful associates were already inside. Speareau The Flow spared one last glance at knights and mages behind him as well as at the unmoving bodies of underlings on the ground and let out a sigh. Those men might as well be lost, the casualties brought by unleashing the full power of his runes would be worth it so long as he put an end to this fight and could join Karadok and the creature they had commissioned from the Patcher on the fourth floor as fast as possible. The white knight twirled his spear once more from within his bubble, the water shifting to put him out of the path of yet another ball of green flames as most of the runes on his armor shined with a bright blue light, so powerful its color was visible through his liquid shield, and the water morphed into a headless serpent with Spereau at its top which began to wildly fly through the air in curves as a torrential current, and as Speareau still encased in the water, rushed at the duo of opponents facing him the torrent followed and tore apart the ground in its way, the goblin and the wolfman were forced to throw themselves to the side to avoid the crushing liquid, and as they were getting up the serpent turned and aimed for them once more, Loedycan simply began to run on all fours and put Fluorine on his back with his jaws as passed the shaman by. The goblin looked back at the magical construct as it chased the impromptu lupine ride, and the shaman began to do what could only be described as a slow dance on the furry black platform it was standing on as Loedycan made sure to turn and run through Runar''s forces while staying as far away from the infused as possible, taking advantage of the destructive rampaging current to get rid of their enemies while protecting their allies, and wordlessly the two reaper-looking mages led the rest of the infused into the building, where they would be hidden away from the wrath of the knight and they would be able to continue their task. The wolfman ran as fast as he could as he began to circle the building, the floating current following him growing closer and closer, Speareau''s form clearly visible through the particularly blue magical water as the white knight twirled his spear faster than ever before. Loedycan pushed his muscles to the limit as they flexed beneath his black fur to try and outrun the incoming threat before he sharply turned and pounced onto the building''s wall and began to climb the structure, piercing the solid material with his metal claws to force himself higher and higher. Fluorine, still dancing, simply jumped at the perfect time to go from standing on the wolfman''s back to his shoulders. The torrential serpent turned to follow after them, and though it partially ripped through the wall as it rose it quickly adjusted itself to prevent the damage while still pursuing the infused elite duo. As they reached the second floor, Loedycan suddenly jumped to the side, letting himself and his passenger who adjusted its posture once more fall to the ground, Speareau''s construct turned to follow, and without the strength of the wolfman but only gravity to keep their flight going, the knight was guaranteed to reach the duo before they could land and find a way to run away again. Before it could do so, an aura of dark green energy erupted around Fluorine, the energy looking sticky and goopy closer to the goblin''s body and yet turning into phantom flames as it grew farther away, and the shaman jumped from the wolfman''s back into the body of the serpent right next to them before Speareau reached them, and suddenly the water around the goblin turned sickly green, the color quickly spreading through the rest of the serpent. Once the white knight realized what was happening he tried to separate himself from his construct but it was too late, green reached the water surrounding him as he madly tried to cleave the torrent with his spear, his panic throwing the current off-course and letting Loedycan escape the attack as he reached for the wall and pierced it with his claws to slow his fall. As the green touched Speareau and reached into his armor, he began to scream though no sound escaped from the wall of liquid surrounding him, the once furious torrent slowing as it became a thicker thing still falling to the ground where it landed in a goopy splash. Fluorine crawled out of the goop as it slowly turned into dust that disappeared in the air before casually walking to rejoin Loedycan who was just finishing sliding down the wall, the wolfman put some force to tear his metal claws away from it before taking a good look at his colleague, ensuring they were both in a good enough condition to keep going. As the now crusty acid finished disappearing, the only other thing left on the ground was a white runic armor covered in black cuts and a white spear, the once red staff now without the leather that covered it, and rolling a little further way was a helmet without its iconic ridiculously large red feather. A bleached-white skull fell out of the piece of white metal. Chapter 109 : Pierce Evil, he who withstands the shadows Barry, Larry, Mark, and Jeffrey all looked on in horror - their two infused bodyguards didn''t reach at all - at Pierce Evil as the golden knight in jousting armor stood between them and the warehouse of their salvation, his rapier pointed at them as it vibrated with violet energy. The man narrowed his eyes behind his helm as the small group gathered their wits, the lizardman and the ratkin quickly taking out their black daggers as the duo of brothers pulled out small infused guns from their black and white suits. "Truly? Not only do you refuse the chance to save your lives I offered, but you also dare to think you can harm me? Pitiful fools." A golden gauntlet gripped the handle of Pierce Evil''s second weapon dangling from his hip, a small toothed dagger, made to catch and potentially break the blades of any opponent, and the knight took the weapon out of its sheath while still keeping his rapier aimed at Silhouette''s subordinates. "I should have expected as much from the servants of a coward like your master. A master of shadows is but another name for one who doesn''t have the strength to stand in the light." A bolt of dark electricity was fired and the golden knight turned around to deflect it with his dagger before it could hit his back, giving an opening for the six men before him to disperse and begin their retreat to the warehouse where an infused was readying their electrorifle for another shot. But a simple turn and block weren''t enough to keep Pierce Evil distracted for long, in a flash of magenta light he was gone from his spot and appeared in a cloud of dirt and dust next to the closest fugitive, one of the two bodyguards who had accompanied the shopkeepers, before he stabbed the dark grey humanoid with his rapier, cracks from which light shined escaping from the body before the knight retrieved his blade and threw the glowing corpse to the side. Another step and more magenta energies funneled into the golden armor''s runes, before in a flash the knight appeared in front of the next bodyguard, his blade ready to end a life before Pierce Evil suddenly ruined his posture by bending his arm so that his weapon would catch another bolt of black electricity, but the interruption wasn''t enough to save the infused as the knight''s second weapon was put to use, the dagger slashing across the former thug''s throat, and instead of blood or any liquid of any sort, it was yet more rays of light that appeared from the wound as the body collapsed. Another bolt was fired and this time he didn''t even bother to deflect it with his rapier, instead letting it hit his armor whose runes suddenly glowed before the bolt bounced back away from him with no damage done. He was unharmed, but he was quickly growing annoyed at the thing as he turned his head to stare at the infused in front of the warehouse, and in a flash, Pierce Evil was standing next to the rifleman and read and ready to put an end to the constant interruptions before two more shots were fired and ricocheted off his helmet ringing it lightly, unseen behind the golden metal his veiny temple was throbbing with rage as he turned to look upon the four shopkeepers, Larry and Barry brandishing their still smoking fancy energy guns while Mark and Jeffrey did their best to look tough with their black blades still in hands, the timeframe being too short for them to put away their melee weapons and replace them by their own guns, and they all did their best to keep up their bravado despite the shock of seeing the knight completely unaffected by the black electricity. Pierce Evil absentmindedly stepped to the side to avoid an attack by the rifle-wielding infused before stabbing them without looking back, his gaze entirely focused on the four he had followed here. "Do you people know how to do anything other than shooting people''s backs when they''re doing something else? I know I shouldn''t expect much from an overgrown reptile, a mindless rat, and two deficient hybrids, least of all when all of them have been raised in this hive of misery and uselessness, but you manage to go even lower. Did you truly think I wouldn''t learn from our last encounter? This armor is now completely immune to your pathetic attacks. Without your precious electric weaponry, you are nothing." Mark wasn''t a tactical genius. He wasn''t a genius at all, in fact. As much as he and Soluble tended to make fun of Jeffrey back in the day, the ratkin was more often than not the one who actually did the thinking back then. While Soluble played the mafia boss and Mark was fine being the muscles, Jeffrey was the one managing their finances, keeping track of prices on the Block, the one always keeping their lists of enemies and allies up to date... Really, the rat just had an issue with naivety and keeping his spontaneous thoughts in check. Still, while he was the more friendly one, Mark would like to think he was the true expert when it came to social situations. The lizardman had been the one who had to see through people''s plots to take advantage of Soluble''s ego after all, Jeffrey never saw things coming and the slime caught the bait every time. Mark had a mental wince as he recalled the last time Soluble fell for their ego, which just so happened to be the time Mark and Jeffrey got a new boss. All of that was to say, Mark suddenly realized something by piecing together what was happening here and his memories from the attack on the shop back on the Block. Pierce Evil was a narcissist who loved to hear himself talk, more so than the average Super. And after living most of his life with someone like that, Mark was sure he could work with it. "Come on, shiny boy. Don''t tell me you really think we''re falling for that. I mean, golden armor? Ssseriously? You might asss well wear a sssign that sssaysss ''I wasss a poor little boy and now I''m overcompensssating'', ya know? Plusss, you''re jussst asss dependent on your fancy ssstuff asss we are, if not more. You don''t sssee usss covered from head to toe like you." Jeffrey looked at Mark in confused shock before the seething voice of the knight resounded once more. "I was going to be merciful. My sword would rend your flesh and banish the evil you have let inside while freeing your soul from its mortal coil. But now? Now I''m going to tear you apart piece by piece and ensure you live long enough for me to drag your sorry remains to the Patcher for him to do with you as he pleases. I am certain he would appreciate the gift, though I doubt you sorry lot would live up to his requirements. Oh well, I''m sure he could appreciate a new purse and a scarf for the winter." Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Mark suddenly wasn''t as confident about his plan. Soluble would have insulted him back before gloating about their skills, giving him time to think of something or for reinforcements to come, but the knight wasn''t following the same script. The ratkin for his part suddenly realized what his scaly friend was trying to do, and decided to play along and correct the course before things went even further south. "P-Please mister Pierce Evil, sir! Please spare us! I give up! I-I''ll do anything you want, just don''t hurt me!" The cowering act had to be convincing given how red Barry''s face was and how Larry had to hold him back from choking Jeffrey. "YOU LITTLE RAT!" "Barry! Stop!" The golden knight looked at the scene for a short moment before focusing back on the rat. "We are long past the point of forgiveness, you pitiful rodent. But it is my duty as a knight to show a proper example, so go ahead, give me a reason to spare your miserable existence." Jeffrey faked searching his pockets when in truth he knew where the item he wanted to give him was. The frantic search and panicked look helped drive home the idea this was made out of desperation and not part of any plan of any sort. People were much more dismissive of the cunning of the weak and simple of mind, even in a place like Zalcien''s slums. Jeffrey pulled out a black key from his pocket and showed it clearly between his clawed pink fingers. Directly throwing it could be seen as an attack, after all, but there was a reason why the ratkin hadn''t used the grenade he was keeping safe hidden inside his coat - a grenade which he technically wasn''t supposed to have, but again, everyone dismissed the weak link of groups and instead focused on the more eccentric or intimidating people. "Uh- Here! The key to the warehouse!" Technically Jeffrey wasn''t supposed to have that either, which rightfully infuriated Barry who spout out more threats and promises of death, making the whole thing more genuine and therefore more believable for Pierce Evil who stared at the small black object with some curiosity in his eyes hidden behind his helm. "And why should I care about a key when I can just destroy the door or the walls?" "There are explosives set to blow up if you try to force your way through! You need the key, I swear!" Barry shouted louder than even Larry had ever heard before. "I''M GOING TO TURN YOU INTO A CARPET YOU DISLOAYL PEST!" The knight stared at the outburst before stepping forward, he sheathed back his dagger and used his now free hand to grab the key out of Jeffrey''s paws right as Barry broke out of his brother''s grasp and almost tackled Pierce Evil before Mark grabbed him midair, making sure to immobilize his arms, and put his tail around Larry''s neck. The taller of the siblings was surprised but followed along as he realized there was no strength behind the scaly appendage''s grip on him while the shorter fought to break free from the lizardman''s hold. Pierce Evil lowered his rapier that had been ready to strike the man before he approached the door. "I promise you, rat, if this key is as useful as you claim, you and your friends will get to see the sunrise once more. If this is a trap, however, then you''ll pray that you died today." With a twist of the key, the lock came undone. "Congratulations, you get to survive one more dawn. Not that your pitiful life is worth living." When the door opened, what he saw wasn''t the inside of a warehouse but the crystal-tipped barrel of a weapon too large to be a rifle yet too small to be called a proper canon, visibly operated by someone, an infused standing at the other end of the thing. Pierce Evil was not amused, doubly so when he felt the three dark bolts of electricity bounce off his head. "I stand corrected. You are even more abysmally stupid than I had thought. Have you learned nothing?" He turned, not caring one bit for the massive weapon behind him, just to glare at the three that had fired at him, Barry being the only one who hadn''t realized there was a plan going on and thus the only one who hadn''t taken out his weapon. The fact Mark had to let him fall to the dusty ground to get his scaly hands on his gun didn''t help. Pierce Evil took out his small swordbreaker once more as he continued his monologue. "After our last fight, I asked Lord Runar to add and modify some of my armor''s runes to ensure it would be as protected against electricity and darkness as it could, no matter how big you make your weapons, while also adding a light enchantment on my blades. You can''t do anything to me, and when I''ll go after Silhouette, a single cut will be more than enough to have him on his knees and begging for his life." The massive weapon inside the warehouse lit up as massive bolts of electricity suddenly came out of its crystalline tip and joined the black construct with the knight''s golden armor, though he seemed completely unaffected by the act. "See? There is nothing you can do to me." Hidden beneath the crystal was another barrel, one that had been dismissed since it wasn''t as eye-catching as the one above, it ended in a wide cylinder covered in holes with yet another smaller cylinder beneath, this one ending in a bulbous shape with a small opening at the top. The first of those two suddenly began to release something, while a flame escaped from the hole in the bulb beneath. As Pierce Evil was basking in his superiority and ignoring the black electricity still going from the crystal to his armor, the weapon released a stream of flames and by the time the knight perceived the incoming heat and turned to see what was happening, he was already burning. The mundane fire succeeded where the energy infused with shadows failed and the inferno slipped through his defenses. His boasting and pompous demeanor was gone and replaced by a mad scream as he ran for a few seconds before dropping onto the ground and rolling around, trying desperately to put out the flames. Mark, Jeffrey, Larry, and the now-standing Barry took a few steps back to put some distance between themselves and the human torch while two infused left the warehouse, each one wielding what was now obviously a crude flamethrower - though theirs were smaller than the massive weapon at the entrance - and began to douse the burning man with more fuel and flames, ignoring his frantic movement and pained screeches. The shopkeepers stared at the scene before looking at each other. "Mark. Jeffrey. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?! AND WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" The lizardman shrugged. "Just usss sssaving your lives, no need to thank usss." The ratkin was more humble. "We got a memo from Techlord, just in case shadow stuff wouldn''t work." What was left unsaid was that Jeffrey wasn''t sure that the big surprise would work if they used it since he was pretty sure the explosives had all been infused. Not only that, but it was obvious with how close they were that they would have been blown up too, and he was quite attached to staying alive. "And why didn''t we get it?" "The Mischief guy who delivered it ate the note once I was done reading. Something about spies." "Why didn''t you TELL us, then?" This time it was Mark who answered. "Because you two are terrible actorsss, and he would have noticed sssomething was wrong." Larry nodded while Barry''s face grew red. Before he could shout out his anger however a particularly loud cry escaped from Pierce Evil''s still rolling and burning body, and the four couldn''t help but wince at the sight. Larry was the one who took charge of the situation then. "We should go inside now." Barry agreed. "Yeah, this could take a while." Another scream. "At least that''s one less guy for the boss to worry about?" Chapter 110 : Plans on the fly James jumped from wall to wall to avoid the biting jaws of the abomination chasing him, its absurdly long neck still bent over its back to let the beast''s head be placed roughly above its tail while it ran backward, the labyrinthine hallway being too small for it to turn properly - at least not without wasting precious time James could use to get away. James wasn''t just mindlessly fleeing, he made to peek in on every door he passed and threw as many shadow bolts at the skinless thing following him as he could without risking hitting any of the stone pillars on the fourth floor, each one of them being covered in runes that could result in a massive explosion that would destroy the building if damaged, but each time the black energy just harmlessly bounced off the beast''s muscles, fangs, or claws. Of course, the mad run wasn''t complete without the haunting sounds escaping from the depths of the creature''s body, roughly where all of those eyes and mouths and holes were placed on its red fleshy frame. The beast screamed a horrid noise that reminded James of a howling wolf and the cries of the ghosts of the children and nuns when he first reached the basement of Mother Greenheld''s orphanage, and the bladed tentacle of darkness James had formed to catch the thing by surprise slid harmlessly over its flesh, his shadowy constitution collapsing into an amorphous blob as soon as he tried to hit one of the legs. James extended his body to try and trap the creature, forming dozens of appendages to hold it down while it was still running, hoping to at least unbalance it and make it fall and hit a wall, but the beast just ran through the trap, the shadows sliding off as its claws and teeth tore through as much of James'' body as it could before he coalesced back into a smaller form that would be faster and harder to catch. So, it''s immune to magic AND my body can''t keep its solidity while interacting with it... I can''t just throw a spell at it or bind it with tentacles, and infusion won''t work without a successful attack or prolonged contact, so what else can I do? It wasn''t the first time he had to deal with someone who could handle his shadow abilities, but nothing had been totally immune before. Even Sydakors the demon had been partially corrupted by his attack, even if in the end it turned out affecting a demon''s body in such a way was useless and he had to hit the soul directly to end the fight. Sadly for James, Runar''s surprise horror pet didn''t have such an exposed weakness as even its disproportionately large gullet which he had attacked when its maw was opened had been able to shrug off his attacks. At this point, his best bet would be to tear off parts of the walls and throw them at the thing in hopes that damage would be enough or one of the runes on them would have some sort of reaction with the creature''s own, or wait for the others to join him to gun down the thing with regular bullets, and even then James wasn''t sure mundane weaponry would be enough to take it down. Just as this thought crossed his mind, James'' senses finally reached the end of the hallway, a relatively large room with no door which would have been empty were it not for the circle of white runes on the floor that a knight taller than any other he had ever seen so far was carefully finishing, his large metal-clad fingers carefully holding a simple paintbrush and delicately applying white paint filled with sparkly particles on one spot of the circle, covering a red mark on the floor that must have been a must draft or indicator with the last rune. He inspected his work before rising to his feet right as James and the beast following him entered the room, and while James went around to avoid both the knight and the runes on the floor, the beast made use of the larger space to finally turn around and finally have its body facing its prey once more, its head never letting the fleeting shadow escape its sight, yet it didn''t continue to pursue and leap at him and instead waited by the doorway. The knight observed the situation before taking out his sword from its place at his waist and his shield from his back, he too never once took his eyes off James as the runes of his armor began to glow green. The magic and the man''s confidence seemed to indicate he was one of the Runarian knights, the only one James knew of but hadn''t seen so far, Karadok. Still, aside from his size and the glow of power, there was nothing noteworthy about the man. His sword, shield, and even his armor were incredibly similar to those used by the regular knights, perhaps the metal was a little shinier than usual, whereas every other member of Runar''s elite group had some kind of unique style to them. James'' musings about the man''s simpleness were interrupted by his deep voice echoing out of his helmet. "I take it you are Silhouette. Surrender now, and your men may be spared." A plan was quickly forming in James'' head, and so he chose to play along. He rose from the shadow he had become on the ground and took on his usual Silhouette guise, an oval head framed by two wide spiky shoulders that thinned down to form a roughly humanoid torso that kept on shrinking until it merged with the ground in a point from which shadows and tentacles formed. "And I take it you are Karadok. Though I must say I am unfamiliar with the beast at your side." The knight nodded but didn''t move his head, keeping his gaze locked on James. "Glapissant is a new development, one you are responsible for. The Patcher specifically tailored it to hunt you down, and master Runar improved it even further." James may not have been a local, but he had lived here long enough and dealt with enough people who''d been here all their lives to recognize the name that left Karadok''s lips. "I may not appreciate Runar and his methods, but I thought he at least had the decency not to work with such a man." "A sword is a sword, no matter its origin. So long as it is functional and under its master''s control, then it is a good sword." He lightly shifted his grip on the handle of his weapon and the green glow emanating from the inscriptions on the blade grew even brighter. "I suppose that circle you were working on was for me?" "Indeed. It is a runic cell, meant to keep you quarantined until you become loyal. It will only work on you, so do not attempt to trap me or the beast." James nodded. "I expected as much. Though I doubt telling me about it was a wise choice." "Under the circumstances, there was no way for me to hide it, and its purpose was obvious. All I did was tell you that you had no way to turn it against us, and therefore you have no hope of victory. Enter it yourself, and your punishment will be light, and your men will be spared." "I think you are mistaken. My men are performing well, and very soon they will all join us here. I doubt Glapissant and you, as strong as you are, can take out a well-equipped assault group. My shopkeepers beat your raid last time, what do you think my fighters will do?" "If you are so certain of their abilities, then you will not mind entering the cell. They can break you out when they arrive after all." The abomination appeared to grow impatient at the back and forth, the cacophony of misery escaping from its entrails - and now that he knew of the creature''s origins, James had no doubt this was exactly what it was - grew louder and louder as its head began to snarl and growl, the noise echoing oddly in its malformed mouth. "Glapissant, down. Silhouette, just get in the cell." Two of James'' tentacles grew longer than the rest until their suddenly bladed tips were roughly level with Karadok''s sword. "I''m afraid it won''t be this easy." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. The orc in shining armor grunted. "So be it." Karadok stepped forward, paying no mind as his metal boot covered one of the runes, and, much to James'' displeasure, nothing happened. As the knight had said, it appeared the circle wouldn''t react to Runar''s forces. James'' tentacles bent and struck at the orc who raised his shield to block them both before cleaving in twain a third tentacle that had emerged from the wall next to him, though James had taken not to let the appendage go above the circle. He didn''t know the rules behind the magical trap, and he''d rather not find out by experience. Glapissant for its part howled its chilling chimeric scream once more before leaping at James right as most of his body turned to shadows, he kept on slithering and spreading in all directions to avoid the creature''s bending claws and its mad bites while still maintaining nodes around Karadok for more tentacles to emerge to keep harassing the knight. The man wielding metal powered by a green magical glow fought very differently than Pierce Evil, the confident golden knight''s way of fighting was a dance of blades, equal parts performance, and killing technique, and was all about speed, Karadok on the other hand involved mowing as little as possible to maximize the effects of each movement, every step bringing along a shift in weight and an occasion to swing his blade and take down more foes. When James unleashed his first volley of shadow bolts, he wasn''t surprised to see the man easily handle the attack, though the way he did so surprised him: rather than block it with his shield or let it bounce off his armor, he used the guard of his sword to block the bolts, each movement to catch one more attack being one more opportunity for his blade to turn and slash at shadowy flesh with ease. Still, the fact he bothered to block the shadow bolts reassured James that he didn''t have the same kind of immunity that Glapissant did, which meant his main plan could still work. All he had to do now was beat Runar''s right-hand man while avoiding the abomination he couldn''t hurt and the massive magical trap in the middle of the room.
Techlord stared down his opponent, waiting for Medraw''s next move. The assassin had proven herself too slippery for him to catch, but he knew something was going on with the daggers she threw, and he was confident this mystery would be the key to taking her down before reinforcements would come. Not that he was worried about Runar''s goons, but rather he was quite sure the Shadow Commando would just end up becoming a bunch of hostages. His inventions may have helped them go beyond their previous abilities, but they weren''t quite at the level of dealing with a professional like the woman in leather armor standing on the wall before him. Speaking of, Medraw jumped from her perch with her shortsword raised and ready to slash, and as his thrusters turned on to evade and counter the attack another dagger fell from her sleeve to her hand. His right hand sparkling with electricity caught the larger of the two blades and he managed to angle his body in time for the smaller one to harmlessly slide off one of the metal plates of his suit, but despite it, a sharp sting still suddenly flared from his side and then looked down after kicking the woman away he was surprised to see a small gash from which dripped blood, away from where either of the assassin''s weapons should have hit, and when he looked back to her both of her blades were clean as she got into a stance, ready to fight him off if he tried to engage. If neither her dagger nor sword cut him, what did? The fact only her sword had glowing runes, then the disappearing daggers, now this... Sam suddenly thought back to his childhood in the Junkland, the massive junkyard that spanned multiple streets to the south of the Black Border. He had grown up in the mountains of abandoned rusting metal and questionable chemical puddles, and through the years he had encountered countless monsters, creatures free to fester away from the Black Bank''s occasional purges, and right now, one of these creatures was on the forefront of his mind as he pieced together the oddities around Medraw. And a smug grin spread across his lips as he knew he had her, hidden behind the black glass of his visor. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet before he began to speak. "You know, I''m not actually from here. I was born in the Junkland." He could see the way she narrowed her eyes between the sheets of leather that formed her helmet, and since she didn''t seem inclined to answer, he continued. "Nasty place, that. I loved the materials, it let me experiment with tons of stuff, but gathering them was always a nightmare. One time I found that great laser casing, and I was overjoyed. I mean-" She leaped at him with her blades raised once more and this time rather than try to block he let his thrusters push him to the side. "-Can you imagine? Me, a kid, getting his hands on Super stuff like that? I was already imagining making a growth ray to turn the small mushroom near my home into giant fungal sources of food and biofuel. But when I approached the thing-" Another attack, and this time when he went to the side she followed and her blades twirled in her hands to aim at completely different spots, he used the blade going out from his forearm to catch and deflect the shortsword while trying to catch the arm wielding the dagger, when she saw this she backed off before he could make contact. "-There was something weird going. Whenever I tried to approach the thing it was slightly to the side, or a little higher than I thought. I got annoyed and threw a random piece of scrap at it, and when it hit, there was an odd splat and a screech and then poof-" Once more metal met metal. "The casing was suddenly squirming, and on top of it there was a weird rainbow cockroach wiggling its legs." She attacked him once more, and this time he caught both of her arms with his gauntlets. As he expected another wound suddenly appeared on his body, but instead of kicking her away he pulled her toward him, and though the teen genius was smaller than the assassin his armor gave him more than enough strength to do so. He shifted the position of his arms to trap hers against her sides as he bearhugged her, more cuts appeared out of nowhere on his lower body as he held her close before he headbutted her, the black glass of his visor smashing loudly against her forehead, the shock releasing a small spurt of a dark liquid that splashed against his helmet. He did it again, and again, and again, and again and again all the while Medraw''s body shivered and flashed in and out of existence, replaced by a black mass on and off, until cuts ceased appearing on his sides and he let her go, the assassin clad in leather armor falling to the ground where it finally revealed its true form. Gone was the woman, replaced by an insectile humanoid creature with a similar frame wearing brown leather over its dark red chitin, a smaller pair of arms ending in sharp claws revealing itself beneath the pair holding her sword and her dagger, and top of her head, above the vacant compound eyes and the cracked forehead leaking dark hemolymph, was a pair of lengthy antennae, each of the two appendages'' segments looking closer to a razor than a sensory organ. Techlord looked down at her armor, the red glow of its runes fading away now that she was unconscious. "I''m no expert in magic, but I can guess those are illusory runes. Someone had a body complex." He couldn''t tell if she was dead or not, but out of precaution, he knelt down to remove some parts of her armor, just in case she woke up so that her disguise wouldn''t work. Well, he wasn''t sure which of the things she did were thanks to her runes and thanks to her innate abilities, but in any case, disarming her would make her easier to deal with if she turned out to be alive and tried to attack them or escape later. As he was removing strips of leather from the featureless chitin, the stomping on feet going up the stairwell caught his attention. He turned around and saw the Shadow Commando climbing up and, though he couldn''t see their faces, he could feel the smugness radiating off of them as they caught up to him, though he did notice two of them were unconscious and being bridal carried by others, and another pair was carrying a large black bag with them. One of the awake ones stepped forward and did a small salute. "Shadow Commando reporting, Techlord! The second floor has been secured with no casualties on our side, though two of us were knocked out while apprehending a Runarian Knight." He looked at them silently for a few seconds. "Come again?" The lead fighter made a sign to the two carrying the bag and they stepped forward to drop it in front of Techlord before one of them opened it to reveal a man in an eye-catching runic chainmail armor tied up with black ropes and cables. It took a few seconds for the inventor to process the sight before he decided that knowing how they did it could wait until later, whereas shouting at his technical subordinates was an emergency. "YOU IDIOTS! Why didn''t you take off his armor?!" The lead member of the Commando facepalmed. "Right, I knew we forgot something." The teen genius groaned before gesturing at them. "Come on, we''ll do it together. You can help me finish the other one too. It was an impressive fight, you know? Her illusory runes hid her insectile nature to instead make her appear like a human woman, but of course, I saw through the trick." "How did knowing she wasn''t human help you? Did you use bug spray?" He was about to retort to the stupid remark when he realized that figuring out her secret hadn''t mattered one bit in her defeat and that his headbutting would have been just effective on anyone without a proper protective helmet. "Uh..." "That must have been hard, with all the guys on the third floor." Right, he was still in the stairwell, and there was still a floor full of armed thugs to take care of. Thugs who may have been alerted by his scream. "Oh." "Also, where''s the bug woman?" He turned around to see the strips of leather covered in runes he had removed still laying randomly on the ground where he had thrown them, but the downed Runarian Knight had taken down that was supposed to be in the middle of the mess had disappeared. "Oooh." Chapter 111 : Karadok James kept on throwing more and more tentacles at Karadok, Runar''s right-hand man, all the while avoiding the frantic attacks of Glapissant, the abominable monster made by the Patcher. The towering orc''s shining armor glowed with the green power of magic as his blade moved as little as possible while maximizing damage and his shield caught the few weak spells James threw his way, his footwork letting him better angle his weapon while also stomping and crushing all the appendages that rose from his shadow and tried to bind his legs by surprise, not the least bothered by the increase in attacks ever since he stepped out of the circle of glittering white runes on the ground. The knight, though not immune to his assault, was clearly the greater threat of the two, for Glapissant had trouble catching James. No matter how effective its claws and fangs were, they couldn''t do a thing if James stayed out of range, and now that they weren''t stuck in a hallway he had much more space to explore and spread through, currently looking more like the shadow of a bundle of thorny vines than a living thing. The beast growled as it clawed at the shadows on the ground only for them to pulse and form a circle where the attack would have landed, just as a black spike fell from the ceiling and onto Karadok''s head, only for it to be cut in two vertically then in four horizontally by the blade of the knight. James may have not been giving it his all, given Runar could be watching and preparing countermeasures, but the knight was still giving him more trouble than he thought he would. He hadn''t expected the right-hand man of a comic book villain to be weak, but everything he knew pointed to Pierce Evil being the strongest of the Runarian Knights in a fight, and his only experience with another one of them so far had been his short encounter with Speareau where he had managed to destroy the man''s spells before he fled. Karadok didn''t have the overwhelming speed or magical water of his colleagues, there was no fancy trick to his fighting style, no power, no illusion, just skill and sheer strength, and yet he had to be the toughest opponent James had ever faced so far bar Pierce Evil, and even then he was confident he could handle the fast knight now that he knew what to expect and had trained for it. A shadow rose from the ground in front of Karadok in the shape of Silouhette, and James ignored the pain of being cleaved in twain by the magical sword to control the now two distinct halves to catch the orc''s arm, and though touching the metal burned him to the point white fumes emanated from the shadowy flesh of his body he powered through, forcing a contest of strength between himself and what he was certain was a beefy orc under the armor, all so he could take his sword. The side effects of engaging in this contest of strength were that it took a lot of focus - doubly so when it hurt as much as it did - and that he had to stay in contact with the knight, and since to equal the orc''s natural and boosted strength he had gathered most of himself back together to form a denser and stronger body of tentacles nothing was distracting Glapissant anymore, and when the beast realized the fleeting darkness of the prey it had been hunting had coalesced back into a single smaller thing it snarled before leaping. Karadok''s arm was lightly shaking as he fought against the mesh of dark tendrils covering it and trying to force his fingers apart, linked by a thin dark string to the other such thing on his arm holding the shield, stopping him from bashing the invasive presence with either of his weapons. He struggled to put his arms together, aiming to fuse the two spots of living shadows into a single larger one he could then force against his chest, where the additional enchanted metal covered in runes meant to weaken Silhouette would hopefully put the creature out of commission. Just as he managed to put his arms together with a powerful flex of his muscles that made his armor creak, leaving his blade pointing to the side, a pair of horrifying jaws closed on his limbs, and the magically strengthened ribs that made up the creature''s fangs punctured the metal and he let out a scream as the abomination''s teeth pierced through his green skin and drew blood. "LET GO, MONSTER!" Glapissant whined as it opened its mouth and let go of Karadok''s arms, and the orc grimaced beneath his helm as he saw the wounds the attack had made, and how the dark tendrils already shifted to slip through the cracks in the armor to fester and corrupt the blood and flesh beneath, darkness already spreading on his green skin. He grunted as he changed his strategy and took a few steps back, still struggling against the force of the living shadows, and threw himself into the runic circle, rays of bright white light emerging from the floor as soon as his arms passed through, the magic reacting to his assailant. As soon as he was in the center of the contraption he flexed his muscles so hard his shoulder pads flew off to bash his dark slime-coated arms against his chest again and again, more and more fumes and steam emanating from Silhouette as his armor reacted to his presence. At last, the slime fell off to the ground and the knight immediately retreated to exit the circle, his sword and his shield still in hand. He panted as he stared at the small dark puddle in the center of the circle rising back to form Silhouette once more, and beneath the metal, despite the burning pain coming from his arms, a smile formed on his tusked lips while Glapissant whined as it sat on its haunches in a corner of the room. "You... I can see... I can see why Pierce Evil had some trouble with you." The barely humanoid figure didn''t respond and instead formed a tentacle that went to touch the wall of light surrounding him, only for the appendage to be disintegrated by the magic. "See? No going out now." This time Silhouette paid attention to him. "You should probably visit a medic now." Karadok looked down and grimaced once more. The armor on his forearms was so damaged it would be quicker to reforge it than to repair it, blood flowed profusely from the large holes left behind by the creature''s fangs, and despite no longer being in contact with Silhouette the blackness on his skin slowly kept on spreading. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. "The Transformation Aspect. Eh, what a nasty thing." His prisoner didn''t say a thing. "Lord Runar figured it out a while back. It made perfect sense, in hindsight. I don''t suppose it will stop on its own?" Only silence answered him. "Right. Let me tell you one thing, Silhouette. I will not be your puppet, the only man I serve is Lord Runar." The orc then did something neither James nor Glapissant expected him to do, he removed his helmet, revealing his green squarish jaw, his large tusks, and the short fuzz of black hair on his skull, and brought his sword to his mouth, catching the handle between his teeth perfectly with the help of his tusks. He then removed the armor still attached to his forearms before, with a twist of the head, he cut both of them off slightly below the elbow with a single swing, releasing his hold on the handle midair to catch it again to let the sword move enough to reach the second limb. Strangely no blood flew from the cuts, for instead they were covered by a sheen of green magic. He then bent to skewer the now detached members to keep them on his blade, just in case the corruption could give them life and make them mess with the runic circle. When he got back up, his eyes widened as he saw the crystal held by a newly formed shadowy hand emerging from Silhouette''s torso, and he looked down in horror to see the belt of leather that usually was tightened around his waist was now gone, only to then see it at Silhouette''s root. "I assumed you would have one of those. It only made sense, why would Runar give one of them to Speareau and not his most trusted and important man?" The emergency teleportation crystal. Karadok jumped into the circle without a care for his safety and when Glapissant saw the emergency of the situation it followed suit. As soon as both were close to Silhouette, the shapeshifter melted down into a puddle, still holding the crystal, and then he slithered to the side while forming tentacles to grab the knight and pull him, and without his arms to fight back the orc couldn''t offer as much resistance as Silhouette''s tendrils directed him like a puppet and pulled him to the ground, angling his head and closing his mouth tight to make sure the sword would skewer Glapissant head before going it went through the ground, pinning the creature''s head to the floor and keeping it shut. Glapissant hissed in pain and tried to free itself, but each movement of its head only brought more pain and it gave up, instead, its body began to stand back up and tried to approach James, and disturbingly it almost looked like a dog walking around the pole its leash was attached to, though it didn''t have much luck mowing properly, its mind hazed by the pain. Meanwhile, James formed tendrils to try and infuse the knight''s exposed head, and though dark spots appeared on the green skin as Karadok grunted they didn''t spread, after a short while of nothing happening despite his best efforts James picked up the abandoned shield, ignoring the pain touching the enchanted metal brought him as he then lifted the orc''s head to put his jaw against the top of Glapissant''s head and traped his tusks against the sword with the handle of the shield while he pushed on the larger metal until a third of it was stuck the deformed flesh, making it so the only way to free him would be to lift the weapon back up. Had he still had a respiratory system James would probably be panting at this point, the adrenaline of the fight no longer a lot of pain suddenly caught up to him, though it still paled compared to what he had experienced against the demon Sydakors. Both the orc and the beast were now out of commission, and he would be lying if he said he wasn''t tempted to kill them to make sure they wouldn''t make any more trouble, still, with how the abomination was effectively trapped it would be easy pickings for his people, and he doubted the orc would find a way to free himself from his sword, and even if he did the lack of arms drastically reduced what he could do now. So, that''s one Knight taken care of, as well as a surprise monster. Now, should I wait for the others to come here, or break this crystal and see where it brings me? Probably Runar''s office or some kind of fallback location. Both should be guarded, and it wouldn''t surprise me if they had stuff specifically made against me. But if I wait, the others will have to deal with the other floors and Knights alone... And that was the point that worried him. The plan was for them to take out everyone on every floor so that Runar would have no choice but to surrender if he didn''t want to stay trapped in his office until the end of his days, but there were still four Runarian Knights at large and though he trusted his employees and the infused to be able to handle some of them, he knew for a fact none of them could hope to match Pierce Evil. Techlord might get close, and if he fought smart and with some luck on his side he could beat the fast knight, but James was fairly sure his inventor would then have to spend quite a while resting after a visit to Doctor Drake''s clinic. It was his mind went on a tangent that James finally noticed something had changed about the room since he entered: there no longer was any opening. The doorway he had entered through had disappeared, replaced by a wall covered in twice the runes that all the others were throughout the building. Ah. Well, that''s a problem. If the room was sealed, then there was no way for his people to come and join him and break the runic cell he was trapped in. As he twisted to the side to avoid a clumsy claw strike from Glapissant, James concluded that as risky as it was, breaking the crystal was his best option now. Still, before he went ahead with it he quickly looked through the rest of the items on Karadok''s stolen belt, in case he could find something useful. To his surprise, the orc hadn''t been carrying any key, but thinking about it further it made sense, Runar probably relied on magical locks instead of physical ones, and the keys to them were probably one or more of the runes on the knight''s armor. Unless he was confident in his forces that he had no lock at all, but that was just silly. In the end, the belt was a dead end, aside from the pouch containing the teleportation crystal there was nothing of interest to him. The most useful thing had been another pouch containing a few coins, but that wouldn''t be of any help at the present, a small runic knife that didn''t hurt him when he touched the blade, and the paintbrush the orc had been holding when James first arrived, its tip still covered with some glittering white paint. He still took the lot, just in case, placing it within his body for now. James almost let out a sigh, holding himself back just in case the orc wasn''t quite as unconscious as he thought or Glapissant was smarter than it let on. It wouldn''t do for his enemy to know he wasn''t as in control and confident as he pretended. Waiting and pondering any further was just wasting time at this point, he already felt back in shape with no side effects to his prolonged contact with the enchanted armor of the knight. He just hoped his men could handle themselves a little longer. James gathered his spirit and crushed the crystal in his tentacle''s grasp, disappearing in a flash of white light, and the runes of the circle on the ground stopped glowing and the prison of light holding him disappeared as soon as he was gone. Chapter 112 : Runar Arthen, the runemaster In the slums of Zalcien, atop a relatively clean and preserved building, was an office on its roof. Sitting at his pristine wooden desk the master of the area, looking over the last modifications to his defenses, dressed in his yellow three-piece suit over a white blouse partially covered by a cyan tie. The pair of slightly elongated ears framing the mane of grey hair that grew down to his shoulders twitched slightly, a rare sign of stress for the man as his piercing eyes studied the small metal orb held between two of his fingers while his free hand was rubbing his chin, covered by a thick yet short well-groomed beard. Runar had to admit, he hadn''t expected Silhouette to come knocking down his doors, yet it made sense. Though he had underestimated his intelligence and power when he first sent the closest thing to a replacement Runarian Knight he had in the person of Grover, the fact remained he had been antagonizing the shadow wielder for a quite while now, dismissing the dark creature''s obvious wish for peace and its apparent attempts at staying neutral. It was only logical that at some point the kicked dog would bite back, he just hadn''t expected it to be so soon. At least he had the reassurance of knowing most of his confidants were present and that Medraw was supposed to arrive for a report, and she undoubtedly noticed the attack. Knowing her, it was very probable she was currently following the most important members of the opposite side, waiting for an opportunity to strike, and he knew for a fact Speareau was already getting involved, having seen some parts of his namesake Flow technique earlier, though his work was too important for him to stop and see how the fight was going. The only unaccounted-for member of his elite troops would be Pierce Evil, and though Karadok had transmitted the emergency alert to all of their outposts, the runemaster doubted the hot-headed golden knight would return now. Despite Runar''s best attempts the boy hadn''t learned a thing, and he wouldn''t be surprised to know he saw this attack as an opening to go after Silhouette''s assets - and loathe as he was to agree with the insubordinate knight, Runar had to admit getting rid of any possible reinforcements that could come to save their leader or avenge his fall would be very beneficial. The weapon Silhouette had used to start this attack had been quite impressive, and it was without shame that Runar would even admit it had him worried at first, but the fact there was no follow-up to this initial wave of darkness and that his building''s runes had withstood the attack quickly eased him. Soon Karadok would be done making the runic cell they had to set up urgently, and with the Patcher''s latest project enhanced by his work acting as a guard dog, it was only a matter of time until the corruptive shadow would be in his grasp. His only regret was the lack of time and resources to make all of his knights'' equipment immune to the dark energy produced by Silhouette''s spells and his men''s weapons, but since such an extreme modification required essentially starting from scratch only his two latest works - Glapissant''s enhancements and Pierce Evil''s new armor - were fully immune. The others'' armors had also been modified to better fight the living shadow, but not quite as effectively. Luckily he had managed to work in a few last-minute additions to Karadok''s weapons and suit the previous day, not enough for immunity, but they would still be incredibly painful to deal with. The elven man put down the runic bomb he had been studying and instead picked up the cup of tea his loyal orc had brought him before the attack began. He fought back a wince at the now lukewarm temperature of the liquid and forced himself to drink it all in one go, knowing that if he waited any longer it would grow even colder and the taste would worsen. Idly he wondered if this was the same cup he had used to teach Pierce Evil a lesson after his little unsanctioned raid and altercation with Black before fixing it when the golden knight was out of sight but dismissed the thought soon after. He owned more than one or two porcelain cups, and even if it was the same, it would be of no importance. This was merely his mind''s best attempt to distract him to better cope with both the stress of the attack and the terrible taste of the beverage. As he put down the cup a flash of light appeared at the center of the roof that made up his office, the telltale sign of a teleportation born from the shattering of a spatial crystal, and the runemaster frowned. The only person whose crystal was meant to bring them here instead of the closest crystal ball relay was his loyal right-hand man, and the orc should have no reason to use it unless there was a major emergency. His task after finishing the cell was not to return here but to join his brothers in arms and help them put an end to the attack and capture the enemy leader. As the light faded it wasn''t the towering form of the orc that revealed itself, but a silhouette that, despite having never in person before, Runar was very familiar with. A being of pure darkness, made of perfectly black material with no reflection, an uncannily oval head on top of a thin neck framed by two wide shoulders that ended in pointed tips directed at the sky, a body made of two convex lines that together formed a torso that slimmed down into a thin genie-like tail that widened back before meeting the ground, turning into an array of tentacles emerging from the shadows growing on the ground. It was more out of reflex than genuine doubt that Runar sent mana through his runic lenses to analyze the creature before him, for he already knew who was the one standing before him - though he noticed a few odd shapes hidden in the depths of his target''s energy. "At last, we meet, Silhouette." "You must be Runar, then." Neither of the two missed how runes flared up around one and shadows grew from the other. "I did not expect to see you in my office before you were at my service, but like always, you surprise me." "Do not talk of me like a rebellious child. I wanted nothing to do with you, yet you kept on trying to enslave me again and again. Well here I am Runar, what now?" "Now? Now I take matters into my own hands. Before we begin though, I believe we both would appreciate some privacy, no?" As he spoke Runar pressed something on his desk, and suddenly the invisible bubble shielding the office from the world turned a solid blue, blocking the view from both sides. "Now no one will spy on us. I have my secrets to keep, and neither of us wants the world to know what you can do. An assassin whose tricks are well-known is not a particularly effective one, wouldn''t you agree?" "I''m not your pet, Runar, even less so a dog for you to sic on your enemies." The bearded man nodded sagely. "Indeed. I realized it not so long ago, after hearing my knights'' reports following our test at your warehouse, but now I know you can be so much more. Transformation truly is the Aspect with the most potential, wouldn''t you agree?" This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. James was disliking the man in front of him more and more with every word he spoke. Instead of answering the runemaster, he fired off dozens of partially charged shadow bolts, the dark balls of energy flying through the air in curves as they closed in on the sitting man until they all dissipated at once, blasted away by a wave of an invisible kinetic force as soon as Runar pressed his finger against another part of his desk, his face perfectly unreadable. "I expected more from you." James stayed silent and instead threw another volley of projectiles, all the while he kept on spreading his shadows on the ground, taking care to keep them separated and to have them slither around rather than have them form a single mass, just in case there was some kind of trap on the floor. Every rune he had dealt with so far had been visible, but Runar had somehow activated multiple effects by touching the desk despite the wood not featuring any. Runar''s face had a natural scowl to it, but the frown deepened when he released another blast of energy, and this time instead of destroying the shadow bolts it merely batted them away to hit the shield surrounding them, and though they were faint both of them could already perceive the faint traces of corruption seeping into the protective barrier. It wasn''t even enough for dark spots to appear on its blue surface, but the fact remained that it had been affected, and Runar didn''t want to risk his shield collapsing as it did with Speareau''s. In fact, for all he knew, a fully corrupted bubble might do worse than just go unstable and collapse. This time the runemaster acted first and pressed yet another spot on his desk before launching a fistful of small metal balls at James, each one covered in runes, and they suddenly flew toward him, aiming at his bigger Silhouette form though they did go lower to the ground as they approached his shadows and tendrils on the ground, while at the same time orbs of blue energy fired off from the wood and arched in the air to circle James, floating around him in circles as the metal balls tried to force themselves into his body. James melted down into the ground just in time to avoid the orbs all suddenly aiming at where his torso had been and merging before exploding right as the metal balls changed their course and curved in the air to aim at the darkness spreading on the ground, each one going after one of the larger spots of shadows before they were all hit by black bolts of energy and dropped to the ground harmlessly. As the various spherical objects were being dealt with, black spikes and tendrils rose from the shadows around Runar and went after him, and each time one of them got close to the runemaster he pressed his finger against his desk, each time a blast of kinetic energy going off and pushing back the incoming threats while his other hand went under the wooden furniture to control yet more hidden runes, small bursts of blue magic appearing on the office''s floor and chasing away the shadows ever time, occasionally accompanied by binding chains of mana appearing out of nowhere and grasping at the darkness that took physical form, though every appendage or spike that got caught turned immaterial immediately to rejoin with the larger mas body on the ground. Runar''s frown deepened as he felt the corruptive tendrils trying to sneak into the solid bubble surrounding them, and the hand under his desk switched position. Now instead of hidden runes on the ground activating, the downpour of magical attacks came from the shield itself, ribbons and projectiles of blue energy emerging from the edges and the magically constructed ceiling of the office and raining down on the living darkness, the shadows twisting as though they were a tangle of eels to avoid the attacks while still slithering and eating away at the shield and lashing out at Runar and his desk. Silhouette''s form reemerged from the evermoving black on the ground next to Runar, and as the runemaster turned to address him the humanoid suddenly went up and bent back before violently striking down as yet another tentacle attack, and this time when Runar''s finger pressed on the desk the energy released was enough to push back the attack, instead, the mass of shadows given flesh, though slowed, pressed on and the elven man had to block it himself with one of his white-gloved hands, the cloth covered in yet more runes catching the incoming strike with some difficulty before Runar let go of his desk with his other hand and punched Silhouette away with enough strength to tear him away from the rest of his shadows and to throw him against the closest wall of the shield. The black mass lost its humanoid form as it fell from the solid mana and merged back with the rest of the living darkness, but as Runar turned to put his hand back on his desk his eyes widened as he saw the once pristine wood turning black, and he gritted his teeth as he kicked hit away just in time to avoid the spike of shadows that emerged from it. "Surrender, Runar. You have no hope of success." The runemaster grunted as he stood up from his seat and rolled his neck. "Congratulations, you ruined a perfectly good piece of furniture. I will admit you can do more than rely on your corruptive nature, and I underestimated you once more. Do not worry, this is the last time." His hand rose to his tie, and another shield appeared around him just in time to catch dozens of dark projectiles coming from all directions before he pulled at the piece of cyan cloth which began to glow, it suddenly fell apart into particles of light that floated off to the side before coalescing into five distinct orbs, each one shielded from James'' numerous attacks, before at once they shattered. In the vacant space in front of the building, an abandoned white skeleton suddenly found itself without its ivory armor. In the stairwell where the Shadow Commando and Techlord left their prisoner as they took on the third floor''s forces, the armor of the unconscious knight and the straps of leather at his side vanished. In front of Silhouette''s warehouse, a burning man encased in metal became only a burning man, to the confusion of the people watching him die. In a sealed room on the fourth floor of Runar''s building, a knocked-out orc was freed by the disappearance of his equipment, and so was the abominable beast at his side. In front of James, at Runar''s sides, where once had been orbs of power, were now five hollow armors covered in glowing symbols wielding runic weapons. A white armor crowned by a frogmouth helm that still dripped with a dark green liquid that sizzled as it hit the ground, an armor of mostly chainmail with a three-eyed helmet with a hole in one shoulder and covered in impacts, a leather armor with a large open gambeson that seemed more at home on a cockroach than a person with a helmet tainted by dark fluids, a golden jousting armor that reeked of burned flesh, and a comparatively simple yet massive armor with mangled arms. Runar spared a look at his reinforcements, and despite his best attempts couldn''t hide the small disappointment that invaded his features. "I was recalcitrant to resort to this, for it put my Knights at risk, but seeing their gear now..." He let out a sigh before shaking his head, paying no mind to the dozens of dark projectiles that kept hitting the barrier between his enemy and himself as well as his guards. "My poor Knights. Perhaps they yet live, but I doubt it. Had I still been blind to your potential, I would be outraged now, furious for you ruining my operation and killing my closest confidants. But I know your potential now, what you could be capable of, and I know you alone will be a more valuable asset than any of them ever were." Runes of solid blue mana began to flow into existence from the palms of the white gloves on his hands as the hollow knights moved into position, Karadok''s and Speareau''s armors standing at the runemaster''s side as the one made of chainmail disappeared from James'' senses and Pierce Evil''s golden suit approached him without breaching the barrier separating them, the humanoid leather bug following it "These suits may find new owners, but there will only ever be one of you. Let me mirror your offer: surrender now, Silhouette, for you have no hope of victory against an Arthen and his knights." The barrier within the greater bubble broke, but the metal suits stayed unmoving, waiting for the shadows'' reaction. From the darkness on the ground, emerging from the black mist that spread, a humanoid shape rose, and its faceless visage turned to the runemaster, impassible in front of the abyss turned to flesh. "They have fallen. So will you." Runar said nothing, but metal creaked as the hollow suits shifted, and the fight resumed. Chapter 113 : A lord and his knights Runar''s arms spread to the side and runes of solid mana flowed from his gloved palms right as the golden and leather armors stepped forward, each one with its blades in hands and ready to strike down James. He melted back down into the darkness on the ground just in time to avoid the shortsword and daggers of Medraw''s hollow suit, but Pierce Evil''s rapier managed to tear away at his shadowy flesh before he fully disappeared, a part of him still wriggling on the rune-covered brass before it dissolved away. The speedster turned and went to stab at the ground at the largest shadows, each strike burning away at James'' immaterial composition before he managed to fully form holes to avoid them, all the while the assassin lept from its spot to cut down at anything that tried to poke out of the flat mass of black, spikes and tentacles falling into pieces each time they tried to form. Meanwhile, dark projectiles flew through the air, aiming at the unmoving form of Runar as more and more sigils manifested into existence at his will and flowed around him, slowly moving alongside one another to form greater shapes, but each of James'' attacks was caught either by the steel of Karadok''s shield, the mangled forearms of his armor still in good enough shape for his gauntlets to stay connected to the rest of the metal and for the hands to hold the weapon, or by curtains of water made by the twirling of Speareau''s spear, the shaft now as white as its tip and the armor without the red cloth that once decorated it. James had some of his shadows snake their way to the runemaster''s feet, but before they reached the man in yellow they were cut off by something invisible, the blade of the now imperceivable fifth knight''s armor. One or two cuts weren''t enough to stop James'' progress, but the sword of Karadok picked up on the other weapon''s slack and slashed away large parts of the spreading net of darkness, and each wound caused by the blade left behind a green glowing trace that James couldn''t grow more shadows from. James ignored the stinging pain the runic weapons caused and instead tried to formulate a plan. Mesker''s brief lesson had given him a lot of ideas, but finding a way to use them in an actual fight was different from the planning and practice he had done in the sewers. Still, something came to mind as he watched Runar still preparing something, and he thought back to the basic encyclopedia of runes he had read. He perfectly recalled the symbols and their uses, but again, there was a distinction between knowing how something worked and knowing how to successfully use it. Still, despite the pain, and despite being outnumbered... I''m going to win. As the golden rapier descended once more it was blocked by a rising black spike, and when the leather armor went to cut it off it clanged uselessly against it, a small cut in the dark flesh revealing the steel of the runic knife beneath, the one James had taken from Karadok''s belt. The pause in the hollow suits'' demeanor gave James an opening and this time it wasn''t only at Runar that his shadow bolts were aimed, multiple of the projectiles firing off directly from the darkness beneath the golden and leather armors and hitting their bodies as tendrils rose and wrapped around their legs to drag them down, though when it came to Pierce Evil''s suit they all bounced or slipped off. Medraw''s on the other hand was quickly dragged to the ground and covered by the shadows swarming it, and when the speedster turned and went to free its fellow, as soon as its knee hit the ground and its blades went to tear the black cocoon apart, Karadok''s stolen knife pierced through the brass that made its back, and slid down the metal as though cutting through weak wood, the material offering some resistance but failing to stop the weapon that descended with loud cracks and screeching steel, the runes of the back lost their glow as their connection was ruptured and the golden knight fell forward, slumping over the leather armor as both suits soon found themselves growing darker and darker. James pulled out the knife and hid it back inside his larger mass spreading on the ground, the weapon narrowly avoiding being caught judging by the sensation of an invisible hand pulling at his body where it had been, and unfortunately for his aggressor now that he had made with it James wasn''t about to let it go. Tendrils formed and spread over the imperceptible form, the humanoid figure quickly becoming distinguishable with all of the black goop that covered it, and Karadok''s armor''s attempt at freeing the invisible one proved itself to be more detrimental than anything as its large glowing green blade slashed through both shadows and metal, and the chainmail armor of Tristare fell to the ground cleaved in twain. Runar''s brow twitched but he said nothing, too busy mumbling words in his beard as more and more blue runes danced in the air around him, forming concentric circles filled with yet more scripts that formed yet more shapes, all turning like impossible gears as they glowed brighter and brighter. Had James had a face, he probably would be grinning or grimacing now. On the one hand, he had correctly recognized the pattern of a "rune breaker" that the book he had read had described, a tool meant to destroy or disrupt runes that required simple symbols but a rare alloy, and Karadok''s knife had proven itself to be worthy of the name, but on the other hand, Runar was still going forward with whatever spell or ritual he had in the works, and letting him finish him would mean bad news for James. He shifted his form once more, and this time when shadow bolts went after Runar they were followed by spikes and tendrils. Karadok''s suit having stepped forward to help the now three fallen armors, only Speareau''s was left to catch the attacks and protect their master, and the namesake weapon''s water flowed through the air to block the incoming projectiles while its sharp ivory tip grazed the ground to cut off the shadows connected to the greater mass. The armor lit by green magic on the other hand continued its crusade against the darkness, its large weapon sweeping left and right in erratic movements to slash away at as much of James as it could. Metal rang as it lowered its shield to intercept James'' knife, and this time the rune breaker didn''t do any damage to the enchanted weapon. It was unfortunate, but it made sense: Karadok was the one Runar trusted the most, and therefore the one with equipment specifically made to fight off runic items, in case any of the other knights turned. If his weapon could cut through runes, then his shield could withstand them. The massive sword swung and cut off the tendril holding the knife, though luckily James managed to catch it in the air before it was lost, and immediately threw it toward Runar. Speareau''s suit twirled its spear and water rose to catch the incoming object, a much larger bubble than usual forming, but when something entered the magical water it wasn''t a blade but a leather pouch full of coins. The white knight didn''t have time to register the oddity before the knife slashed through its ankles, and the armor fell to its knees, barely catching itself from falling flat on the ground with its spear, but all that did was leave it open to more damage. Once more metal creaked as the knife tore through one of the hollow suits, and the magic animating it failed as its back split in two and its helmet fell off for the second time that day. Right as James was done retrieving the knife and turning the weapon to stab Runar, just in case his yellow clothes hid more tricks, massive metal boots crashed down on the weapon, shattering the blade. Karadok''s suit stood up from its landing after its leap, and it resumed slashing away at everything black in its sight. The loss of the rune breaker hurt, but in the end, it was just one armor and one still-busy mage against an elemental shapeshifter with corruptive properties. The sole still functional suit was enough to stop the volleys of shadow bolts and various dark appendages that rose from the ground that went after Runar, and finally, transformative shadows landed on the runemaster. They did nothing. The black bolts splashed uselessly against the yellow three-piece suit, a thin shimmer of a transparent blue shell appearing before the dark projectiles and limbs could touch the cloth. Before James had the chance to fire a truly charged shadow bolt to test this defense, the blue runic shapes all around Runar flashed, magical power shined so strongly and with such power, it managed to overwhelm James'' senses, a feat he had yet to experience in this life. James did his best to spread and hide, to ensure some part of him could survive whatever attack would be unleashed... But nothing came. The light faded, and Runar stood there, the same as he was before, but with something in his hand. A shaft with a slightly convex shape, ending in a round bulge at the bottom. A large yet thin guard, a small crescent whose tips quickly curved upwards, to the point they didn''t fully cover the hand beneath. A triangular blade with a wide base and perfectly pointy tip, shaped in such a way the lines of its sides were completely straight, as wide as a human''s palm at its thickest as long as Runar''s arm from the wrist to the shoulder. The weapon wasn''t fashioned out of metal, but instead raw blue magic, dozens if not hundreds of runes standing side by side and over one another to form its body, with yet even more glowing with a bright white light visible through the rest flowing in lines through the core of the blade, from its tip to its pommel and vice versa. The magical sigils forged into a weapon slashed through nothing as the runemaster rolled his wrist, and James swore he saw the very air split in two in its wake, fading runes flaking off and dying in its trail, replaced by another as soon as they left the collective mass. James fired off more basic shadow bolts and all of those that weren''t intercepted by Karadok''s equipment were promptly annihilated by the blue blade, the offensive darkness falling into pieces before stopping to exist as soon as it was cut. For the first time since his preparation began, Runar spoke, his fixated on the light within his grasp. "Magnificient, isn''t it? Years of work went into the making of this beauty. A weapon I can call upon at any time, that cannot be lost or stolen, a weapon that can surpass any physical blade, a weapon with runes that do not need outrageously rare or expensive materials, a weapon I can rely upon even cast away from in exile, rejected by the Arthen family and the Wicked Witchcraft cabal." This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. A smile formed on his lips. "A weapon fit for a lord." He shrugged. "Though I will admit the casting time still could be improved. Every minute is of the utmost importance in a fight, as you have demonstrated." The glowing tip danced in the air before pointing at roughly the center of the mass of eel-like shadows on the ground. "I hate repeating myself, especially when copying the words of another, but surrender now Silhouette. You have no hope of victory. Your shadows have no hope of felling me, and my masterpiece can cleave through flesh and darkness alike. You have no organ to fail you, no blood to lose, therefore I won''t have to worry about killing you, so long as enough of you is left. I will be free to cut you into pieces again and again until your body will reform with its mind broken." The runemaster''s head shook from side to side. "Save yourself the agony, and give up now. Unlike others, I do not enjoy the game of domination so rampant in our circles. Disciplining you with Caligraph will not amuse me." James said nothing, instead trying to figure out how to go from now on. Karadok''s suit would be hard to deal with, but without the experience of the orc warrior''s guiding its movements, it should be easier to defeat. Runar... The fact that he had bothered to use a shield to block his shadow bolts meant he wasn''t as confident with his defense as he claimed to be, and that his suit''s shield could be overcome... Or that his new sword somehow protected him, which, given the sheer number of runes within, could be plausible. Either way, if he got rid of the towering armor beforehand, then he could just steal its sword to do the job, just like he had done with Glapissant. Wait, if the sword''s here, doesn''t that mean... No, I can''t worry about that now. The others can take care of that, right now I must focus. "If you hope a single sword will change things, you are heavily mistaken, Runar. There''s only one armor left to guard you." The runemaster scoffed. "Yes, that. You did ruin quite a lot of resources and hours of work." The old man tilted his head. "It appears I stand corrected. Cutting you to pieces will bring me some joy." Runar stepped forward, and shadows converged to overwhelm him. Every step of his was accompanied by a swift flick of the wrist that sent his blade dancing in a mesmerizing way to slash through the incoming darkness. It wasn''t the slow yet precise powerful blows of Karadok, neither was it the overwhelming speed and arrogance of Pierce Evil, no, but it was something vaguely similar, Runar''s style of wielding his sword was one of elegance and efficiency, more active than the orc''s but more controlled and mastered than the blond''s. The way the flaking and fading runes flew off in the wake of the blade further emphasized its beauty, and were it not cutting through James'' flesh one could almost forget it was a weapon. James for sure didn''t forget with how much it hurt. The pain brought by this Caligraph had to be second only to Sydakors'', the stinging agony surpassing everything else James had ever felt. He had to give Runar some credit, making a weapon that hurt as much as a demon''s soul-ripping attacks was an achievement few could claim, at least he hoped so. He really didn''t want to have to deal with more people with that kind of thing on them. Of course, the magical blades drawing arcs of blue light in the air wasn''t the only thing to worry about, and as annoying as the pain it brought was he was sadly getting used to being hurt and torn to shreds. Seeing how useless his attacks were against Runar James had his tentacles focus on the rampaging hollow armor instead, while he kept sending shadow bolts at both of them. But the dark orbs of shadows weren''t the only spell James knew. As one of his limbs managed to slip past the defense of the suit covered by a green glow and made contact with it, James unleashed a spell he had been charging for a while, and black electricity coursed throughout his entire body. Dark energy rose in arcs over his entire form and found its way to the walking metal, and the light of its runes struggled against the invasive darkness. The two forces opposed one another as the armor froze, the magic of its runes too busy fighting off the electrical corruption to keep animating the suit, and though the green glow appeared to be winning the struggle and overcoming the creeping black all of its efforts were futile as, without the necessary energy to move, the armor was rendered a sitting duck for dozens of black orbs to hit it, the runes'' temporary success coming undone as too many transformative shadows covered its form. The now black humanoid shape fell, and without magic powering it the armor split into pieces, each one hitting the ground with a loud crash. Runar hadn''t been idle during this time, and though he had been somewhat slowed by the shadow bolts and the loose sparks of electricity that reached him he was unscuffed. The runemaster got back within range of James'' expanded mass, and his blade resumed its agonizing slicing of every shadow in sight. Within a few seconds, however, a black wall rose to protect James, his own shield spell he had been able to use for a while but never had a reason to use. The blade cut right through, as though the protective bubble didn''t exist. James ignored the pain of losing yet more parts of himself and instead picked up Karadok''s abandoned sword and swung it at Runar, and their weapons clashed - until Runar''s flared with yet more power, and the runic construct cut through the enchanted metal of the stolen blade. James hadn''t expected that. The runemaster kicked away the upper part of the blade that had fallen while James readjusted the guard and what little sharpened metal was on it to block the following strike, but once more the weapon of light cut through what was left of the sword, the guard and handle falling to pieces too small to be of any use now as the magic cleaved through James. None of James'' uncharged shadow bolts went through the thin film of magic covering the yellow cloth of Runar''s suit, and neither did the black electricity James unleashed once again. The bearded elvish man''s face stayed unflinching before the hordes of projectiles that went after him as he casually ignored all of them as he slashed away, though a small wrinkling at the edges of his lips seemed to hint that he was fighting back some kind of grin. "There is nothing you can do now, Silhouette." His sword went down... And one of James'' tentacles caught it. The runemaster''s eyes widened. "What?" The tentacle tightened its grasp, and black fumes began to rise from its points of contact with the blue runes. Runar kicked away at the shadows and pulled until his weapon was freed, and let out a sigh of relief as he saw that it was free of any blackness. James rose from the ground as a humanoid once again, but this time it wasn''t in his usual guise of Silhouette. The most notable difference was that he had legs now, though his feet were still connected to the darkness on the ground, and that he had a sword in his hand - it was just his body shaped like one, but with how solid and sharp he could make his body, it might as well have been a real one. Not only that, but James'' latest trick further improved his shapeshifted limb''s use as a weapon. Within his body, just finished getting infused and bent and modified, were the broken pieces of the rune breaker, each one reshaped to form one of the runes necessary for its effects to take place since the initial pattern on its blade had been damaged by the knife''s shattering. Before Runar could try to make sense of what just happened, James rushed forward and swung with his black sword, and the runemaster had no choice but to focus on the fight as he raised his blue blade to block the blow. The two weapons clashed, but unlike before the runic construct couldn''t cut through the opposing weapon. James knew he had no hope of matching someone with years of experience as a swordsman, so instead of trying to continue the duel, he used the opportunity of standing so close to the runemaster with no hope for Runar to push him back easily to put in motion the last part of his plan. So close to one another that their faces were almost touching one another, Runar tried to end the struggle to pull back his blade and put some distance between him and James, but the black sword he had formed was bending to circle around the blue surface of the many solid runes to trap it in its grasp, and so close to his enemy, James fired off a fully charged shadow bolt from his face onto Runar''s. The force of the burst of shadows that followed was strong enough to push the two men apart, and though James had no trouble catching himself as soon as he hit the ground by merging back with the darkness on the floor, Runar was sent tumbling, his body bouncing a few times before it rolled until it stopped. The man grunted before standing up, and James was quite shocked at the sight before him. Runar''s once grey hair and beard were now pitch-black with purple highlights where the light hit them at the right angle, much like the fur of Mischief''s rats was, but the runemaster''s visage was totally unscathed from the experience. No bruise, no spot of corruptive darkness on his skin, only incredible rage. "You..." He raised his hand to point at James as he rose from his dark puddle with his weapon, but it was at this point Runar realized Caligraph was no longer in his hand. "A magical creation like the one you made must require at least some degree of focus to keep active, no?" Runar gritted his teeth before letting out a sigh and adjusting his now messy hair with his hand. "Yes, but not enough for me to have to keep thinking about it, at least so far as I don''t get blasted point blank." "And with no desk and no armor around to keep me distracted, you won''t be able to recast it." "Not in a timely fashion, no. Which is why..." Runar''s hand reached behind his back and pulled a small crystal from a hidden pocket at the bottom of his vest, and neither of the men needed to look at the object to know it was a teleportation crystal. "I must now bid you adieu. I thought I had stopped underestimating you, Silhouette, but you surprised me once again." James said nothing as his shadows, cleared from the floor around Runar by his own attack, were now growing back toward the runemaster''s feet. "I won''t do that mistake again. You have ruined years of work, and now I might as well have nothing to my name. Next time, I won''t hesitate to rely on my friend." The darkness grew even closer. "You might have heard of him. Abrakaboom, one of the top three Villains in Zalcien." Tentacles and tendrils emerged from the shadows to try and drag him down, but a blue bubble formed and shielded the man from the appendages. "I will happily stand by his side as he destroys everything you built with you at my foot." Black swirls appeared in the bubble''s magic, much like it had happened before Speareau fled from his attack on the warehouse, and both men knew Runar would use his escape card before they finished their job, the crystal already letting out cracking sounds from the way it was lightly gripped, greatly weakened by the impacts following the fight. "Any last words before we part ways?" "You should look at your hand." Runar raised a brow before following along, and his composure fell apart as horror invaded his features. His body, bearing his hair, was free of corruption. His crystal, on the other hand, was now almost completely black. Runar couldn''t do anything but scream as the already fragile object shattered on its own, and this time the man didn''t disappear in a flash of light but in a pillar of darkness whose tip pierced through Runar''s bubble of a shield and impacted the larger one acting as the roof of the office, its blue quickly turning to black. A few seconds later, under a clear sky, James was alone on the roof, victorious. Chapter 114 : The ruin of runes Medraw ran through the streets, away from the building she had called her home for the past year. The insectile humanoid would have cried had she had tear ducts, not just because of the throbbing pain coming from her dented forehead still leaking hemolymph, or the humiliation of losing to a child. No, the reason behind her emotional pain was different altogether. Not only had her human disguise been ruined by her lost focus and the following loss of the vast majority of her armor, but what little straps of leather she had managed to keep and take with her in her flight from Silhouette''s men had disappeared in her hands, vanishing in particles of light. She was Runar''s closest confidant after Karadok and Tristare, she was privy to secrets even Speareau and Pierce Evil were clueless about. She knew about her employer''s last layer of defense, the secret teleportation feature engraved in each of their armors, the one that would immediately bring the suits to him and animate them to protect him, leaving their bearers behind. The fact he chose to employ this last resort in the middle of an attack while his precious Runarian Knights should be fighting? That meant someone had arrived in his office, and that the threat they posed was enough for him to decide that sacrificing his elite was needed. Even if he survived and somehow managed to repel the raid, most of their thugs would still be dead, the other four Knights were probably gravely injured at the very least, and there was no doubt in her mind that their crafters and their work had been affected by the attack too. To sum it up, Runar was finished, and she was out of a job. Still, the loss of her illusory self had to be the worst part of this whole mess. Unlike the others, she didn''t need her enchanted suit to do her job, so she wouldn''t struggle to find assassin work elsewhere, but unlike the bug that annoying technology-obsessed teen had compared her to she couldn''t change her appearance at will, and finding anything at a similar level to what the runemaster had given would cost more than she could earn in years. Even if she were to empty her account at the Black Bank, she doubted she''d even get close to half of what she needed to buy the lowliest sensory disguise, it was why she went to work for Runar in the first place, he offered it to her for free. Maybe she could empty his vault too? No, if he survived he would chase her to the end of Terra Stellis, that man was far too headstrong for his own good. If he hadn''t been so hellbent on capturing and enslaving Silhouette, none of this would have happened. Maybe they could have even been allies if he had been apologetic about the raid and Pierce Evil''s assault. One of her arms went to one of her compound eyes to wipe away the nonexistent tears flowing from it - she had taken the habit of mimicking human gestures to keep the illusion going, even when it was gone. Now her dreamed beautiful body was out of grasp, and she doubted any of the other gang leaders or crime bosses around would offer a similar deal to Runar''s. The only person she could think of right now that could change her or create an illusion that would was the Pacther, and she wanted nothing to do with that man. There was a reason Karadok was the one who dealt with him despite her being the one in charge of communications with other groups. The one his eyes had been analyzing her when she first met him, obviously seeing through the disguise and marveling at what he could do with her body... It was sickening. Her hand, now covered in the hemolymph that kept on leaking from her wound onto the rest of her head, lowered back down as she slowed her run. She should be far away enough from the building to avoid any sweep or patrol Silhouette''s men may have set up, and frankly, she was getting tired. Her body was meant for bursts of effort, not a constant drain of her stamina. She wasn''t one of those unlucky people who mutated into horrendous creatures because of a Chaotic or Awakened Core or even exposure to particularly unstable materials, she was instead a lucky insect who got a chance at sapience and human life, and her biology reflected that. She couldn''t recall what species she had been, but her anatomy and organs were vastly different from even a human insectoid mutant''s. She sat down on a crate abandoned in the alleyway she found herself in to gather her breath. Her spiracles opened as wide as they could on the sides of her body, taking in as much air as they could to the point they grew much more visible than usual - much like most of her kin these openings to her respiratory system had once been on the sides of her abdomen, but her transformation fused it with her thorax to form a single body with additional joints to allow for her to twist her body from side to side despite her hard chitinous exterior. People took their spine and soft flesh for granted. As she sat there she brought a hand up to her damaged forehead and delicately tried to feel the wound without worsening it, and had she been able to she would have grimaced. The dent in her exoskeleton would take at least a molt or two to fix, and her last one was still recent, so it would take a while, but at least the soft insides beneath didn''t feel too roughed up. The fact she was only leaking hemolymph and not flesh and brain matter was a good sign. Still, she should probably drop by a healer before long, she didn''t have a cockroach''s thick liquid consistency that prevented them from bleeding out. Her bladed antennae twitched. A sound drew her attention, somewhere in the darkness from where she had emerged. She carefully adjusted her posture, making sure to keep the movement natural and relaxed as though she was just getting more comfortable on the hollow cube of wood so that her observer wouldn''t know she had noticed them, angling her body so that she could leap away as soon as possible. The pitty patter of multiple clawed feet walking on the ground grew nearer, the sound too off to match a Sickler''s gait even if there were multiple of them, but the fact they could stay hidden from her wide peripheral vision despite walking in a straight line in what was essentially a closed corridor was more worrying than anything those dinosaur equivalents of overgrown rabid raccoons could do. She was ready to jump off when a voice echoed between the walls. "Stay." She ignored and leaped, only for sharp claws to catch her in the joints of her legs and drag her down, and her body loudly hit the floor despite her being quite light. Another voice similar to the first one spoke out, right as more claws dug themselves into her neck. "Freeze." She was confident she could escape from one assailant before they had made contact, but now there were at least two of them and they both put very sharp things in crucial spots of her body. She felt the claws on her legs as they moved up to her hips, ready to slash at the connections between her limbs and her trunk, while more claws appeared in her spiracles and around her antennae. More sharp and pointy things lightly touched her body in yet more spots, and she was unnerved to realize, unlike most people who tried to handle her before these weren''t treating her like a human but a bug, approximately guessing the position of her vital organs with much greater accuracy than anyone else ever had before. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. She wasn''t a target, she was prey. "Prisoner." A third voice, and this time a figure appeared in the corner of her vision. It was small, roughly the size of a large cat, with a furry black body and a naked tail. She didn''t expect to be captured by rats, but the fact she was still alive and they were talking was a good sign. It meant she wasn''t on the menu. Yet. "Obey." The rat the closest to her got close to her face, still laying on the side, on the ground, and placed its little paw over her mouth, its claws sliding in the gaps between her mandibles, ready to tear them out. "Survive." More rats appeared, dragging black ropes that they quickly tied around her body and limbs. Their work was shoddy, and she was confident she could undo the various knots she could feel if struggling wasn''t enough to get the restraints off her, but there was no doubt in her mind she''d be dead within seconds if she went with this idea. Not to mention that she wasn''t stupid and had recognized the pattern here, a creature of shadows and its troops who all wore black attacked, and now black rats with black ropes were capturing her. Silhouette''s name was plastered all over this, and she didn''t know if that fact should make her feel better or not.
Karadok came to with a terrible headache. He recalled finishing the runic cell, hearing the yapping and running of Glapissant, meeting and fighting Silhouette until he was trapped by the magic of the symbols, him having to cut off his hands to prevent the corruption from coursing through the rest of his body, trusting his master to pay for the Patcher to heal him or to make runic prosthetics himself, and the shadow bringing out his teleportation crystal... The orc''s eyes opened wide. He struggled to get up with his magically sealed stumps, and his tusks ached for some reason, but before long he was up, and his still waking caught up to the situation. His armor and weapons were gone, leaving him defenseless in only the layer of cloth he wore beneath the suit, the room''s entrance had disappeared, the trap prepared among the runes on the walls having gone off as soon as the cell had detected its target inside, and Glapissant... The abominable beast''s head dragged on the ground, weak growls and cries escaping from its jaws, its long prehensile neck having lost all strength, while its body with flanks covered in eyes and holes and mouths stood, slightly stumbling on its legs but in better health than its thinking part. Or did the things in the creature''s body have enough brainpower to act on their own now that the previous leader of the flock was incapacitated? Karadok did not know, and frankly, he didn''t want to. The less he knew about how the Patcher worked and how his creations felt and thought, the better he would sleep at night. The skinless beast walked forward now that it saw the orc was awake, and its long prehensile claws made of repurposed spines dragged limply on the ground, much like the head at the end of the neck. If he still had his hands and his sword, Karadok would have considered cutting the thing off with how much pain the beast looked like it was going through. But now wasn''t the time to worry about the monster he had ordered. Silhouette had escaped using his spatial crystal, which meant he must be fighting lord Runar right about now. He had to get out of here right and rejoin with his lord, maybe gather the other knights by the same occasion. He couldn''t recall when in his scuffle with the living shadow he lost consciousness, but he could remember how he took Karadok''s head and aimed the sword he was holding between his teeth to use it against the Patcher''s creation. Past that, however... Karadok could worry about this later. Right now, his lord needed him. He stumbled his way across the room to reach the now-sealed door and took in a deep breath before headbutting it, his green forehead breaking through the solid magic with ease. He kicked at the wall to clear out more of the solid magic before stepping forward, breaking whatever was left in his way. Glapissant followed, still dragging its limp head as it walked forward with great difficulty. But the orc had no time to worry about the beast''s state, he had to- In a blink of an eye Karadok found himself unable to move, and it took a second for his brain to catch up to the feeling of something wrapped around him. He feared it was Silhouette or one of his goons yet again, but instead when he looked down his eyes met red exposed flesh. He followed the serpentine tube of muscle back up to find Glapissant''s open maw above him, its two pairs of eyes a sick milky white as it stared at nothing, its saliva dribbling down on his shoulders. He tried to struggle, but his exhausted and aching muscles couldn''t do much against the Patcher''s abomination''s strength, and he found himself cursing the madman as his horrible creation betrayed him and got ready to devour him... The two jaws filled with sharp ribs turned teeth closed, and Karadok was surprised to find himself unharmed. Why would the beast do such a thing if not to eat him? It should know he was not the target, and even if one of its minds went madder than it already was the others should have been holding it back. Where did this sudden spike of strength come from? What was- A dreadful chill spread through his entire being. He recalled the Patcher''s demand. The contract they had both signed. If he ever stopped working for Runar, then- Before he realized it Glapissant was running down the hallway before it forced its way through every wall in its path until it broke through to the outside, and the beats scuttled its way down the building until it reached the ground. It ran away, its prize caught in a cocoon formed of its neck and head on its back. By the time Karadok realized what was happening and began to scream it was already far too late, for his desperate cries were just another drop in the misery of the slums.
Tristare briefly came to, ignoring the stinging pain of the wound in his shoulder and the dozens of impacts caught by his armor to try and take in his surroundings and learn more about the situation. Invisible or not, intelligence gathering was his field of work. He could feel the air hitting his third eye, and that meant that either those idiots had removed his armor or his master had used his final defense. Either way, it meant he was now defenseless and at the mercy of his captors. He slightly opened one of his eyes to see what were his assailants up to without giving away that he was awake, and he could see the two imbeciles he had incapacitated were already awake and talking to one another, though it seemed they were alone with him. "So... You think we''re gonna get a bonus or a day off or two since we got hurt?" "Buddy, getting hurt is part of the job. I''m not sure we''ll even get a bruise at that." "You think the others are gonna make fun of us?" "Meh, maybe a bit, but frankly what could we do against an invisible guy, eh? I mean, that wasn''t part of the briefing." "Really? I''d say that falls into the ''expect the unexpected'' bit." "Hey, no one''s ever ready for an invisible guy." "Captain Cyan was." "Isn''t he that dude from that kids'' show the boss'' kids are always watching?" "EXCUSE YOU! That is a historically accurate show based on recovered recordings of the beloved Union Hero Captain Cyan. They just made it more child friendly to make it more accessible to younger audiences." Tristare had heard enough. He leaned forward before throwing his head back as hard as he could against the wall, promptly knocking himself out once more, much to the confusion of the two members of the Commando left to the side. Chapter 115 : Quiet times James stood in silence in the middle of Runar''s office and simply basked in the glow of victory. The runemaster was gone, his escape card had been corrupted and had sent him somewhere, James didn''t know where specifically, but through his connection with the man he could tell he was still alive, but heavily infused, much more than anyone else had ever been without being fully converted, and wherever he was it wasn''t where he intended to go and by the time he reached any place he might have allies in the transformative energies in him would be done taking over his body. And judging by the sorry state of the armors of the Runarian Knights when their master had summoned them, those five were either already down for the count or soon to be at the hands of his employees. Frankly, he would need a day or two to fully recuperate mentally, but after that, he would throw a big party to reward them, with all the pastries from Sweet Pete''s they could ever eat. It was hard to believe, in a strange way. Runar was gone, his elite too, and his well-equipped men could take care of whatever was left, so he was free to just... Take a small break right now. It had all gone so fast, and it was already over, and yet it had felt like much, each second turning into an eternity during each encounter. James had no idea what he would do with the rest of the day, he was already winded and couldn''t sleep without being knocked unconscious by someone else. Oh, I know. When we''re done taking care of things here, as soon as we finish sorting through whatever''s here to pay Mesker and see what Techlord can use, I''m going back down and I''m hanging out with the kids. I''m sure they''d appreciate a Captain Cyan marathon together. The last one in those sewers I hope. He had almost forgotten why he was taking out Runar in the first place with all the stress the situation brought. He wasn''t doing this to clear the slums, to steal his rival''s market, or to impress the local gangs, no, all of this was just a way for him to guarantee his safety, so that he and the kids could leave this miserable place and live comfortably in the main city. Granted, he felt a little guilty at the idea of leaving his loyal employees behind. Maybe he could try and look out for a place for the Commando and Techlord to stay while he was scouting for a home for him and the ratlings? Guy seemed happy to stay here, Polisson and Mischief would be fine anywhere, and the infused... Well, they weren''t bothered by things such as comfort or happy lives. But was he forgetting something? Ah. The kids Guy recruited. He had only met Dane so far - if saving the small blue child from Runar''s thugs could be called meeting them - but he was aware there were quite a few more keeping an eye and ear out for anything interesting around the Black Block. Those were... Well, they were children that had grown up in this environment, quite a few of them were on the verge of adulthood, and according to Guy himself, this was already a much better system than the one he had grown up in. Back in his childhood, all orphaned youths like him acted independently, and the survival rate was much lower. Criminals weren''t inclined to pay children when they could just beat the answers out of them, and kids couldn''t defend themselves from people who didn''t like being watched. As selfish and manipulative as Guy felt to James, he at least had offered a better way - by working loosely together they could travel the slums and spy more effectively, and crime lords weren''t as inclined to hurting their informants if they had a union of sorts since it meant antagonizing all of them, the best locale source of information outside of the gangs'' respective intelligence gatherers. Not that it always worked or stopped the kids from setting up each other, from what James learned of Dane''s life from Guy and Techlord, the latter only repeating the worries Doctor Drake had confided in the teen. He had planned to bring Dane down to the orphanage and have Greenheld and the ghost nuns take care of them while having them help around the place, taking care of menial tasks to free up the Commando and so the kid could feel useful. James had to admit he didn''t spend too much time thinking about those things when Runar was the main problem haunting his thoughts, but now that he was taken care of, there were a lot of things James had dismissed at the time he had to take care of now. Case in point, a ton of children with no formal education in a dog-eat-dog area who he was technically in charge of. Without the stress of fearing for his, his kids'', and his employees'' lives, he had to face the issue. He couldn''t just leave them here as they were, he may have changed a lot as a person ever since he reincarnated but he couldn''t fight off the guilt of abandoning children like that if he felt like he could help. He could have them all go to the orphanage, but it probably wouldn''t work out in the long term. Sure, it might be fine for a few months, maybe a year, maybe more, but at one point or another, whether as older teens or adults, they would want to leave and do their own thing, and James couldn''t hold them back. And as adults, what skills would they have? What could do to earn their lives? No, he had to work something else out. Unless miraculously the nuns could be effective teachers, which... Maybe they were? James wasn''t overly familiar with how orphanages worked, especially not one in this world from a hundred years ago, but they probably had some sort of schooling in place unless they somehow sent the equivalent of at least an entire classroom of kids at a regular school. The problem then was if the nuns could still do the job, a lot had probably happened in the last century, and a lot of what they knew was outdated. It didn''t help either that they had died, and that despite being relatively sane they still weren''t the same as when they were alive. His first meeting with the ghosts still gave him shivers. Maybe I could leave them with the nuns for a while setting things up in the main city, and then when I''m all settled I can bring them in? Maybe send an anonymous message to a modern orphanage or the Union? I don''t think the chatroom will be useful for that kind of thing. In any case, the orphanage would do until he found himself a nice place in the proper Zalcien, and maybe established himself as Silhouette in a safe spot. Oh, he had no plan of becoming the next big bad, he may have learned to kill people but only out of necessity. James had no interest in the criminal lifestyle, especially not in a world of Heroes and Villains. No, he only wanted to bring the Silhouette persona along to the main city to bring along his shop and scare away the small gangs and petty thieves. He had no ID to speak of and all of his money was in cash, so buying or renting places the proper way was probably doomed to fail. Silhouette would let him kickstart a new life, and give him a foundation for a more mundane existence for him and the ratlings. If sales went well in the city, maybe he could afford to expand his business, make an outpost for scavengers in the Junkland he had heard so much about to give Techlord all the scarps he could ever need to work on his inventions, he could offer better pays to his employees in the slums and perhaps even set up a program to let them join him in the big city. He didn''t have the funds to save everyone, but he had to admit he had gotten attached to his loony crew, not quite as much to the warehouse workers, but he had to admit Bob the frog''s work ethic and Elen Gurt''s despair at her situation had both impressed him. Both would be loyal beyond belief if he gave them some responsibilities and a nice job out of the slums. Thinking about the warehouse, he''d have to see if any of his workers decided to leave suddenly. He was under the assumption one of them was probably a spy for Runar - Claude Puma seemed the likeliest candidate, with how many questions he asked, but at the same time it felt a little too obvious - but now that the man was gone, they would have no reason to stick around, unless they had plans to sell the intel they got to someone else. But really, with Runar gone, there was no one else around that actively antagonized James. Maybe people jealous of his shop would try something, but after the runemaster''s downfall, they would likely stay discreet. As James was lost in his thoughts and basked in the warm rays of the sun above, the sky clear of clouds around the building but hosting half a dozen crows flying through the air in circles above him, the sound of feet running up the stairs to the office reached him and broke him out of his planning and reverie, though he wasn''t worried about any incoming attack. Although it felt weird to say, he had spent enough time around the Commando to recognize the sounds of their steps - something he doubted many bosses could say. The door to the stairs opened in a burst, kicked open by Techlord''s armor-covered foot, and the teen genius leaped onto the office ready to fight as the Commando followed, their weapons aimed essentially everywhere. James could see through the black glass visor covering his face the eyes of the inventor darting all around, scanning the area before the young man relaxed as he realized his employer was alone on the roof, though he was quite surprised at the sight of the five ruined suits of armor laying on the ground. "We''re done securing the building, boss. Is... Everything alright?" "Yes, yes. Any losses on our side?" "Fluorine and Loedycan reported a few lost among the infused, though the mages are fine. Two Commando guys got knocked out earlier but they woke up, and I got a little scratched by that assassin, but that''s it. And you boss?" "Some stinging here and there, but it won''t last long. What of prisoners?" "Not a whole lot of those. No one surrendered, and frankly, only the Commando was safe enough to bother not using lethal weaponry." One member of said commando interrupted. "We also caught a Runarian Knight!" "Yeah, an invisible guy!" James'' brain short-circuited for a moment, he could understand his men taking care of a Knight without their equipment, but the invisibility they described was part of one of the suits, which meant they defeated a Knight at their best. Despite his body staying perfectly still, the teen who was the closest thing to his right-hand man aside from Polisson felt the attention of his superior on him. "Yeah, they got one. Weird dude with three eyes. Don''t ask me how they did it. We still have him, but his armor disappeared. A similar thing happened with the assassin, she escaped and left her armor behind, but it''s no longer there." The teen turned his head to point at two of the ruined suits on the ground. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "Since they''re here, I suppose you know what happened?" James nodded. "Runar''s final defense, he brought his Knights'' armors here and turned them into golems of sorts. Given how they looked when they arrived, I believe it''s safe to say all of them have been taken care of. I defeated his loyal Karadok before facing Runar, you took care of the assassin, and the Commando dealt with the other mystery one. Who took care of the last two?" "Fluorine and Loedycan reported defeating Speareau, but that''s it. None of us saw Pierce Evil." James hummed as his gaze fell to the ruined suit, the golden brass covered in burns and black spots of corruptive shadows that destroyed its runes. "Would you know if the warehouse''s surprise had been utilized?" "Nah, but we can always call the twins." The teen turned to the Commando, and one of them promptly pulled out his phone before he went back down the stairs, to avoid disturbing the rest of the conversation. Techlord turned back to James and stepped closer as he continued his report. "So, we found quite a bit of loot. Lots of runic tools on the second floor, completed runic stuff on the first, and a few vaults on the third, along with the Knights'' rooms. The ground floor was just a dormitory and basic living space for the thugs and regular knights, while the fourth-" "I know about the fourth. Labyrinthine hallway and locked rooms holding the pillars that kept the shield over the office running. Oh, did you find a larger room at the end of it, with an unconscious orc and beast?" Techlord raised a brow beneath his helmet. "We found the room with a circle on the floor, but no one inside. There was a hole in one of the walls that led outside, though." "So, Karadok, the Patcher''s monster, and the assassin have gotten away..." "Not bug." Techlord and the Commando''s gaze shifted as they watched a large black rat finish its climb up the building, reaching the roof before it sat on its haunches some distance away from James. "Wounded. Followed." "And have they brought her back yet?" The member of Mischief shook its head, but its beady eyes remained filled with confidence. "Unarmed. Harmless." James hummed before addressing his inventor. "So, we may have one more prisoner than planned. The only loose ends left are an orc without hands and a monster made by someone else. Is the Patcher known to take back his creatures after selling them?" "He signs contracts, otherwise people wouldn''t trust his abominations. Why buy a man-made horror if it can turn on you at any point? If Runar is dead or unable to continue his operations or uphold his end of the contract, however, then it''s fair game." "It would be nice if the Patcher dealt with Karadok, but let''s avoid blind optimism for now. Are Fluorine and Loedycan organizing the new infused?" "Yup. They''re rounding up anything that can stand up and checking if they''re fully converted." "Splendid. Commando, bring anyone that wasn''t affected and is still alive to the closest thing to a jail this place has. Mischief, scout the area for stragglers and opportunists. Techlord, you and I are going to do an express sorting of everything that could be of value or use. Once everyone''s done with their tasks, the infused will manage things here while the rest of us will return to the base. Depending on how well the rounding up of Runar''s thugs'' smaller hideouts went, we may have to go out and hunt whatever''s left ourselves, especially if our two escapees joined them." "And if they''re all out of commission?" "Then we all get a nice break for once. We''ll take it easy for a few days, then you and I will have to see how to best repurpose this place." "Wait, we''re keeping this? I thought we didn''t have the manpower to hold it?" James felt his connections with the dozens of newly infused thugs. "We didn''t, now we do. Would you like to move your workshop here, or keep it separate?" "Nah, I''m fine where I am. I don''t mix well with magical stuff." "Fair enough." The member of the Commando that had left to call the warehouse crew returned at this point, putting away his phone as he went up the stairs. "So, Pierce Evil showed up, they lost a few infused, but the shopkeeps are fine. They said they used Techlord''s experiment to deal with him." "Experiment?" "A little something I worked on so that they didn''t only have the big surprise to rely on." "It appears it went well, but do try to keep informed of this sort of thing in the future." "Yeah, sorry boss. I uh... I kinda forgot to." If James had eyes to roll, he would have. In any case, now was the time for him to see if Mesker''s materials were here, and hopefully properly labeled. The pyromancer had given him a list with small descriptions and basic drawings of what he should be looking for, but given how dangerous magical things could be if handled the wrong way and how specific they could be according to the demonologist, he''d rather not risk mistaking a perfectly harmless flower for one that could disintegrate his body in seconds. Maybe they''d even find interesting runic items here, but James doubted there would be anything of similar value and use to the Runarian Knights'' armors, anything like that would have been used during the attack otherwise. They likely would only find simple items, like the mace of the thug that nearly killed Dane, and maybe slightly better stuff, like the shifting clay armor of Grover, things that Runar felt safe selling without putting himself in danger. But that would be enough: with runic items to fill up his shop''s product lineup, Techlord wouldn''t have to work quite as much and would be free to focus his attention on personal or more important projects, depending on what James needed to be done. James peeked up at the crows circling above and wondered if perhaps he could access Runar''s account at the Black Bank. Probably not, even if the manager seemed to have an interest in him judging by how he acted and the fact his little pets spied on him - Techlord and the Commando had informed him that apparently ever since Blake Black had arrived those crows showed up around the Bank, and rumors said it was common for all members of the Black Family to have something similar going on. No, judging by the low morals of the group, the content of Runar''s account and possible vault would belong to them now that the runemaster was gone. "Let us go, everyone. We need to ensure that by dusk, no trace of Runar remains, so that our tomorrow may be brighter than ever before." ""Yeah!"" "And when everything''s done I''ll put together a pastry party for you." ""YEAH!"" James chuckled at their antics. Soon, he too would feel safe being as carefree. How would life in Zalcien be? His hometown had been much smaller than this city in another world, and it felt like it had earned the title of metropolis despite being relatively forgettable compared to other members of the ACS - though not because of its size, but rather everything else. It was hard to understand how a place that had an entire second city beneath it could be forgettable, but he supposed a world of Supers would have different standards. How would the economy in the civilized parts of the city be? What about the acceptance of his unique biology? People in the chatroom seemed pretty open, but they were a tight-knit community, how would the casual citizen react? James chased these thoughts away. He could worry later. For now, it was just time to bask in the glow of victory, and a safer tomorrow.
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: Explosion! Magic! TechnoGogo: Yes, we saw the pillar of shadows too. You can calm down. The Silence: Oh, to witness the ascension of the darkness beneath. KillLaKrill: Well, someones are in a good mood. Say, does anyone know anything about it yet? Should we update the Zalcien Villain Tier List? (Mod)Seagullag: The only official communication we''ve gotten yet is that it happened in the slums, so we should all stay calm. KillLaKrill: Kinda hard to do with all the guys who showed up just to mess with things. Saray: Yeah, I don''t get why people always do this. I mean, there''s a risk of a big Super fight, do you really think now''s the time to rob that bookstore? TechnoGogo: That''s... Kinda the point. Since it''s likely the Union and the police will be busy, it''s the perfect time to steal stuff and mess with things. MagicIsTragic: Guys. Guys. TechnoGogo: What? MagicIsTragic: Big shadow power. In the slums. After the gang war with the darkness guy I told you about. See where I''m going with this? KillLaKrill: First off, not a gang war, just a small fight or two. And yes, I see what you mean, but come on, seriously? Someone strong enough to do something this visible wouldn''t stay in the slums, not for long. TechnoGogo: Actually, many powerful people stay there. I mean, just look at Sunburn. If he isn''t in jail or doing a gig, he''s there. And sadly, she''s got a point. Shadow powers aren''t rare per se, but it is suspicious the Union took note of a new guy involved in a big fight, and soon after we get a light show. MagicIsTragic: A dark show, rather. The Silence: Correlation doesn''t imply causality, but it is a notable series of events. MagicIsTragic: Fine, be that way, I''ll make fun of you when he shows up attacking a bank or something later. TechnoGogo: Sure, you get the "I told you so" rights. But, I mean, James also has shadow powers and showed up soon before those things happened, and I don''t see you fitting him in your little conspiracy. MagicIsTragic: Oh, I''d completely forgotten about that. Nah, he doesn''t fit the bill. Not enough mean stuff in him. The poor boy has no sass, could you imagine? TechnoGogo: With you around? No. Saray: You shouldn''t compare people you know to Villains like that. (Mod)Seagullag: The new mystery shadow man isn''t officially a Villain, yet, but I agree with Saray. Keep forum people out of your fanfictions. MagicIsTragic: Hey! It''s not fanfic! It''s a well-thought-out theory! KillLaKrill: Sure, sure. Just don''t bother the guy, alright? It''s kinda rude talking about him when he''s not there, especially if it''s to compare him to a big bad. MagicIsTragic: I didn''t compare him to anyone anyway. Still, I''m curious about where he comes from. No Supers, no Cored, and he''s very curious about basic knowledge, no? TechnoGogo: Bah, they probably had a censored internet or something. I mean, it''s not like WE get the same stuff as people in, say, Brol do. It''s why I messed around with my connection for a while. I did the same for Daisy, too, so that she could watch that show about the garden lady on a volcano. KillLaKrill: I miss her. MagicIsTragic: Yeah. Me too. Think the Union is gonna do anything about the Hivines soon? Saray: I don''t think so. There''s no evidence they as an organization are doing anything bad. Some members are caught doing crimes from time to time, but it can''t be pinned on the whole group. TechnoGogo: Kinda like the Blood Angels when Big N was still around but in reverse? He had all the charges, while his guys kept blank records. Seagull, can you confirm? (Mod)Seagullag: I haven''t been in Zalcien for that long. In any case, until there''s an official announcement by the Union or the police, the Biflora and his followers are to be considered a religion, and nothing else, following the rules of the website. The Silence: I miss her too.
Firefighter looked down at the petty thief he had just intercepted, fleeing from a jewelry store with his pockets full of pearl necklaces and golden bracelets. The man had tried to run, but he couldn''t be faster than the Hero''s hydrokinesis. Firefighter groaned as he received yet another emergency call for a minor crime like this one, and swore to himself he would give the idiot who created that pillar of shadows a piece of his mind. Lord Of Water, did he hate Super fighting days. Chapter 116 : A shadow in the city Terra Stellis, a planet not unlike Earth, and yet so vastly different when one took a closer look. From its greater size to its somewhat alternate geography and topography as well as the difference in its geological makeup, countless little things were marking the two worlds as different, but the greatest distinction of all came from their respective universes themselves, for Terra Stellis was from a world with new laws of reality, Aspects, primordial truths of existence that gifted those that dwelled in this universe abilities beyond Earth''s scientific knowledge, and even Terra Stellis'' often found itself incapable of explaining those phenomenons. Those that were gifted with the ability to make use of one of those Aspects were entities beyond the rest, and the mere connection itself granted strength beyond the norm, no matter the power they were wielding or how mighty it was. Body, Mind, Soul, Might, Will, Faith, Creation, Destruction, Creation, Transformation, nine Aspects, sometimes so ingrained in a species most of their members were free to wield one or more of them, but most often accessed through a biological catalytic oddity, Cores. Often present from birth, sometimes hidden but Awakened through dire circumstances, and sometimes spontaneously created by the body in a Chaotic fashion to guarantee survival or in response to trauma, Cores were both mundane and miraculous, an everyday circumstance that let some change the color of their eyes on a whim and gave others the ability to forge reality itself to better fit their desires through the harnessing of one''s Aspects. Such an incredible difference between those planets and their worlds put them on vastly different paths. Terra Stellis became host to both a great magical culture, though dwindling as its opposition rose, and an incredible technological evolution. One might expect that the common citizen would live in a flourished utopia, but it was not meant to be. Magic and technology squabbled, both sides preferring to stay isolated or being beaten back when it tried to snuff out its opposition, resulting in a modern world not quite as alienating to an inhabitant of the Earth as one might expect, bar the presence of Supers, Heroes and Villains only possible in fiction on Earth, and a few other oddities. Zalcien, the relatively forgettable Core member of the ACS, the Alliance of City-States, was a great example of this. At a glance, the city would have been at home on Earth as a minor Metropolis, if one were to forget its foundation of dark grey stone, a towering circular hollow structure built with a slope that as a whole acted as a bell to cover the ruins of the old Zalcien, ravaged by a Super fight decades ago, as well as the base for the new city to be built, the sides of the foundation going higher than needed to also offer walls to the metropolis, shielding it from strange weathers and close outside attacks. Yes, once one dismissed this strange foundation and the reason behind its origin, the city built atop it was quite banal. Tall buildings of glass and steel and cement formed an eye-catching center for the city, occasionally interrupted by small parks of green and the odd building here and there, such as a museum with marble walls. This urban center was reached by two perpendicular lines that met in Zalcien''s very core, perfectly dividing the circular city into four sections, and each of these lines was an avenue framed on both sides by various stores, unique buildings, and tourist traps. The urban center was surrounded by a simpler downtown, where countless smaller buildings of cement with fewer stories cohabited with houses with a garden now and again, this inhabited mass also presented supermarkets, public swimming pools, and every other sort of notable spot that would without fail become a landmark for the surrounding neighborhoods. Around this downtown was the industrial area of the city, where the large factories and energy plants stood close to its walls, as far away from the eyes of the passers-by and the pristine cleanliness of its beautiful center as possible. Yes, at this point Zalcien looked like it belonged on Earth, but that wasn''t all that there was to the city. For one, there were its slums. Such a thing wasn''t unique to Zalcien, it was sadly rather common for large cities to have small areas like this, but those were usually in the periphery. Zalcien''s were quite different, not only were they in the city itself, but they were massive, occupying nearly most of the South-Eastern quadrant, roughly a fifth of the city itself. They were not simply a place of misery where the unfortunate dwelled, no, they were the remains of a past catastrophe, the entire area had been infested by a creature whose death had never been truly confirmed, and in the wake of the damage the rest of the city chose to abandon it, deeming it beyond saving, leaving the survivors, their descendants, and any who had no choice but to go there to rot in buildings falling to ruin and infested by mutant creatures and monsters, trapped between walls of steel erected by the city to keep its filth quarantined. To its credit the method worked on the common folk, those too weak to do anything but survive, as well as the beasts themselves, too stupid to find a way past the frontier, but those with powers made use of the unique circumstances of Zalcien. Everyone knew the city''s Villains dwelled in the heart of the slums, beyond the reach of most and far from the reach of the law, and they happily came and went to the city itself to steal and rampage as they pleased, often escaping to return where Heroes couldn''t follow. But its slums weren''t the only thing distinguishing Zalcien from a city on Earth. One would expect its incapacity to expand and lack of farming land to greatly damage the city and its economy, but it wasn''t the case. One didn''t need to expand outwards when adding a floor to a building was as easy as hiring a Super with impressive powers or an army of robots at their beck and call and could be done in the blink of an eye for the right price, and one didn''t need large farms to grow produce when they could be teleported from elsewhere or made in large quantities in highly developed greenhouses that spanned multiple floors above or below ground. And these facts of life were reflected throughout the entire city. For every street of two or three stories buildings, there would be an odd shop with magical illusions on its roof, a floor on a building entirely covered by plates of steel that didn''t match the rest of the edifice, a car that looked more at home on an alien world than a city, a poster for a romance movie featuring a woman with a fish for a head as the main protagonist, an ad for a singer with cat ears'' latest album, hidden away graffiti that shimmered in the light and occasionally shifted to depict something else... It was reflected in the inhabitants, too. For every two dozen humans walking down the street, there''d be one with strange features, oddly colored hair or eyes, slightly too sharp teeth, scales on their limbs, and for every dozen of those there''d a truly bizarre sight, a harpy sitting on a bench and browsing the internet on her phone with her dexterous taloned feet, a pink marbled orb the size of a beach ball with a fedora on its head floating over the pavement, a mechanical man twice as tall as any other pedestrian walking on his four blocky legs and wearing a blue cap on his triangular head gathering letters from every mailbox he came across and placing them in a storage compartment in his chest... As he walked down the streets, dressed in clothes he had prepared for the occasion, James felt normal for the first time in ages. He wasn''t certain of the exact timeline given his confusion and difficult beginnings in Zalcien, but he knew it must have been months since he first arrived here. He had a mundane pizza delivery boy back in his hometown on Earth, before being stabbed and left to bleed to death by a mugger, only to find himself in this world of Supers with an unfamiliar body. To this day he still didn''t know how it came to be, how this slime-like thing was created, and how he was reincarnated into it, but what he knew was that he was used to it by now. Controlling a form of shadows turned into a living creature had been odd at first, especially since it could change between the states of matter on a whim and modify its density up to a certain degree, but James liked to think he was doing well. He was still alive, for one, despite having encountered multiple monsters and experienced fighters and killers. He had done things he wasn''t proud of, but he was alive, free from the slums, and with hopefully enough money to start a proper new life, one as a citizen of this city and not a minor crime boss, both for himself and the children he had adopted without realizing it. He never thought he''d be a father, even less this early on in life. He was still in his twenties, and though he had a few friends who started families he had yet to find a stable relationship. The way he had adopted his kids was quite peculiar too, he had found them right as their biological parents were killed by a machine built by one of the city''s most infamous Villains. He hadn''t expected those small ratlings he had mostly saved to vent out his own trauma and to have a friendly companion to keep his sanity to grow so attached to him, and he hadn''t at all considered they might become sapient and closer to human children than smart pets. Still, choices had been made, and he would do it all again. Becoming a single dad of five very active and slightly murderous kids was difficult, but so were adapting to a new life as a non-human entity and leading a group against a gang of wizards and thugs with magical weapons, and he had managed on all fronts so far. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. His hands in the pockets of his dark blue jacket, James walked down the street, his head and body staying steady while his senses took in with wonder and joy the sights around him, a little something so that his curiosity wouldn''t be too noticeable. Looking like a country bumpkin who set foot in a city for the first time would attract attention, especially so close to the slums and away from Zalcien''s proper doors to the outside world. Slum-dwellers weren''t welcome in the nicer parts of the city, and truth be told James couldn''t be too mad about this considering his own experiences there. He had met wonderful people, most of which he had hired one way or another, but he had also encountered several people who would kill someone without hesitation if it would benefit them, with a handful that were sadistic enough to do it just for fun. The average citizen couldn''t afford to risk determining which is which, not everyone had a body as resilient and regenerative as his. Still, he''d rather avoid facing the police after a nervous passer-by made a paranoid call if he looked suspicious. He still didn''t have an official ID, and for all he knew truth detectors might be much more common and effective in this world, and he''d rather not find out what happened to people who were caught breaching the slums'' quarantine. It was the reason for this first visit, in fact. He was currently scouting out the area around the path he had taken from the Sunken City - Zalcien''s literal underworld - to see if he could notice any seedier part he might visit as Silhouette to get some information and potential contacts to obtain fake documents, and ideally find a place he could buy with only cash. The slums weren''t known for their ATMs. The trip was pretty simple in the end after he had gotten rid of the various creatures and gangs that were in his way, and its pair of operators - a snail person below and a rusty robot above - had let him through easily, and after all the time he had spent in his lair in the sewers he easily navigated his way through these new unfamiliar tunnels to a quiet and remote area where he was free to emerge, after a quick spray of perfume. His sense of smell may be diminished, but he could still guess that a trip through canals meant for sewage wouldn''t leave him fresh as a rose, and though the slums were used to a lack of hygiene due to the limited resources and ambient filth, Zalcien''s citizens may not be as understanding. James wasn''t just taking in the scenery and walking in circles around the passage while letting his thoughts run wild, however. Not so long ago, when he had been looking for a warehouse to acquire to fool his enemies regarding his plans, a man had tried to scam him. James had planned to only scare him a bit once he was sure the man was just an opportunist and not a spy or saboteur sent by another group, but he had revealed he was from the proper city of Zalcien, and he had found a way to go past the guards and defenses surrounding the slums that he used to scam the poor locals. Out of curiosity James had infused parts of the skin of his back so that he could track him through his connection to all things affected by his transformative powers, and when he first walked out onto those clean streets he had immediately felt the presence of this magical tattoo nearby. Hence, he was not simply scouting around his passage to the Sunken City, he was also tracking down where precisely the scammer was. If he was in luck the short fat man would be able to help him with his official document issue, or at least be able to point him in the right direction. If not, just scaring him some more would be a nice way to introduce Silhouette to Zalcien. Besides, the man was supposed to contact him after he had let him go the first time, yet he had never heard from him again. James passed by a poster encouraging people to sign up to try joining the Hero Union, and though he did not stop walking, his senses went into overdrive to study it to the best of his abilities. The background was pretty forgettable, a simplistic depiction of the city with tall buildings under a clear blue sky, and the text was the usual thing you''d see to advertise joining the police or the army, but what stood in the foreground caught his non-existent eye. Three people posed together, joy and pride radiating off of them at the idea of the onlooker joining, clearly having a lot of fun in their line of work. To the left was a young woman with bright pink eyes and short magenta hair in attire that could be best described as a mix of a stereotypical witch outfit - wide black pointy hat included - and a pop singer, a small black cape attached over her collar with a silver brooch with a pink gem at his center and draping over the top of her exposed shoulders before ending around her waist while purple fingerless gloves covered her arms and a purple and white bustier on her torso, continuing past her black pants to turn into a pair of long lines, likes an exaggerated tailcoat''s namesake tail, while knee-high purple boots with small heels completed the look. She was floating in the air, her feet off the ground and dangling from her lightly bent legs, a black wand with a glowing purple tip in one hand while the other was turned to the camera that had taken the photo with its palm opened to the sky, a mischievous smile on her lips as she invited anyone to join her. To the right was a more masculine figure with broad shoulders, though with the metal covering him, James couldn''t quite tell if it was truly a man or not. Silver armor that reminded him of Techlord''s suits covered the Hero from head to toe, with small groves and curves everywhere on the metal. James wasn''t sure if those served a purpose or were only decorative, but he had to admit it made the whole thing appear more impressive than the smooth surfaces his inventor preferred, when he wasn''t installing cosmetic lights or strange gadgets that is. The only things that weren''t covered by metal were the visors covering the eyes, two large circles of blue glass-like material that couldn''t be seen through. The armored figure had a hand on their hip and the other raised to show a thumbs-up. In the center was the least humanoid of the trio. What James could only describe as a snake person stood, almost twice as tall as either of the other two. Their head was like a cobra''s, with a wide puffed-up hood, the inflated beige skin visible behind the otherwise dark green scales covering it, aside from the red ones on the sides that formed spots that one could confuse for eyes if their vision was blurry enough. The head itself was dark green, with two small eyes with round black pupils so large that the dark brown irises were nigh unseeable, a thick black line continued from the corner of the eye to the back of the head, with an even thicker red mark on top, before the two converged and stopped where jaw began. The pale yellow thing was broad and thick, and had it been any longer it would have given the snake an impressive underbite, instead, it approximated something that could be called an impressive chin - despite normal snakes'' chins being made of tendons rather than bones since it connected the two mandibles that made up their lower jaw. The impressive snake face was made even more intimidating by the scars on it, beige marks that went from claws to cuts, and even a few darker spots probably left by burns, they weren''t numerous to the point of being of there being more scar tissue than scales, but it still felt like either a quarter or a third of the snake''s head had been damaged in some way. The eyes had a few marks over them but the orbs themselves were perfectly fine, and the hood was oddly untouched. Below the head, continuing from the lower jaw, was a vertical line of thick pale yellow scales, shaped like a snake''s underside, and from what James could see it was exactly what it was, probably continuing down to the end of the tail, though he couldn''t know since it wasn''t visible. The snake''s neck was long even on the gargantuan frame, and if all three of the Heroes had truly posed together for the photograph with no modification and trick of the eye, the muscular tube had to be as long as a human''s entire arm and thicker than a thigh. It was attached to a large broad chest, where the plate-like pale yellow scales widened to cover the pectorals before thinning back down until they reached the waist where the snake person''s body turned into a more bestial form, making up the silhouette of the anaconda equivalent of a centaur. But there was something else to the torso, namely the fact it had two sets of pectorals and two pairs of shoulders, for the snake had four arms. They were quite humanoid aside from their dark green scales and how the fingertips ended in small little pale yellow claws rather than nails. The snake''s body was as covered in scars as the head, but over that reptilian physique was what James could only describe as gladiatorial equipment. Leather harnesses ran from the top of each upper shoulder and below the lower armpits to keep a plate of shining bronze attached to the torso, covering the vitals, as well as a pair of pauldrons on the upper shoulders, while a skirt of flaps of studded leather covered the waist, a gladius and a net dangled from the leather belt while a large trident appeared to be attached to the back, presumably to the other end of the torso armor. The upper pair of arms were crossed over the chest, partially covering the bronze, while the lower ones were extended to the side, inviting any onlooker in. James wasn''t completely oblivious to those three''s identities - he had searched Zalcien''s heavily censured internet to know as much about the place after all. He knew about Miss Malice, Mecha Man, and Serpent, the city''s best and most beloved Heroes, or at least those that were the most popular. But there was a difference between seeing a small picture on his phone and seeing them on such a large picture in the street. It felt more real, more genuine. James knew the ratlings wished to become Heroes, following their adoration for the Hero Captain Cyan after they watched his show, and though he wasn''t a little uncomfortable at the idea of them putting themselves into unnecessary danger, he didn''t want to hinder their dreams. Besides, Hero training should hopefully make them better fighters and thus better able to defend themselves. Maybe he could into whether the Union had a program for children, something to provide basic training but also schooling, financial aid wouldn''t be unwelcome too. James'' senses tinged, though his walk didn''t falter. He knew he was extremely close to his target. He turned to head into an alleyway, where he would be able to have a quick change of look in private. It was Silhouette''s turn to enter the city. It''s showtime. Chapter 117 : A silhouette in the city George Froko was not having a good day, today. The short chubby man''s black hair and mustache were messy instead of their usual oily swept-back look, an attempt at making himself look more well-off than he was to his usual clientele. His big red nose let out a loud sniff as he stared into his glass, his thoughts a mess. He was currently sitting at the counter of a small bar in the seedier parts of Zalcien. The building of mostly concrete with wooden parts to improve the decor was somewhat close to the slums, and the police''s resources were focused on the frontier separating those from the main city rather than the small area around the filthy monster-infested land. It was safer than one would expect in truth, exactly because of the previous factors. Small crimes were common, but anything or anyone too extreme would attract the mass of law enforcers nearby, while all of the Villains and the true scum of the city chose to assemble where even the Union wouldn''t go, thus leaving them places like this one, the home of the common crook, those who stole cars and belongings from houses rather than laboratories and museums. As a professional scam artist, George was at home here. Despite the fact his methods were far more discreet than what the others did, he felt far safer and better here than he would closer to the city center. And yet, despite this being his happy place, George was slumped over the wooden counter, his mind preoccupied with all the dark thoughts that had been keeping him awake at night for over a week now. "Still having nightmares, George?" The overweight man looked up from his glass to the bartender, a black man in a white blouse with a pair of short curved-back white horns poking out from his black hair. "Is it that obvious, Joe?" The bartender shrugged as he cleaned a glass. "Well, when you look like you might as well be dead, it''s hard not to notice something''s wrong." The scam artist sighed. "It''s just... I''ve had a few close calls before, and this ain''t the first time someone threatened me, but this thing... At least with a mugger or a gang guy, they''re still people, I can still play up the charm or the begging. I get a few bumps and cuts, but after that they let me go so I can get the money or whatever. This thing? It was going to do worse than that." "I don''t wanna victim shame here, but what made you think it was a good idea to scam a big monster from the slums anyway? That sounds like a great way to get killed." "First off, this wasn''t my first time there. Second, he wasn''t a ''big monster'', just a random new guy. I met one of his lackeys, it was just a pitch-black dude, I thought he would be the same! I didn''t expect whatever Nine-cursed horror beast he was!" "Still, not your brightest idea." George groaned before emptying his glass in a single gulp while Joe took out the bottle he had initially served him with. "The guy obviously had no clue of how people worked around here, I thought he''d just go along with the plan. I''d get money, he''d get his place, and everyone would be happy." "Until the next gang came to use the place, and they''d start killing each other." "While I''d be out of the picture, safe and with some cash. Instead..." The fat man shivered under the bartender''s concerned gaze, who still filled his glass when the scam artist asked him to. "Come on, it couldn''t be that bad. If he was the monster you described, you wouldn''t be here. Besides, if he let you go to get an exit, then it means he can''t leave the slums. You''re safe here." The man said nothing for a moment, but his black companion was intrigued by the sudden onset of sweat and the way his eyes darted maniacally from side to side. "There''s something you ain''t telling me." George downed the entire glass once again. "There''s... He... I think he cursed me." Joe raised an eyebrow and bent forward to whisper. "Something private?" "My back. I went to see Sabine''s girls, and they said something went wrong with my tattoo." "Aren''t you afraid of needles?" "I didn''t get tattooed." The way the two of them were positioned, Joe just had to get back up a little to see somewhat down the back of the collar of George''s red vest, and he did notice a black blotch of something on the shorter man''s on the skin of his back, beyond the normal darkness one would expect. "You saw a mage for that?" "Shaman. She told me to get out and never come back." The bartender frowned. He wasn''t an expert when it came to that sort of thing, but a shaman kicking someone out was never a good sign, especially without explaining anything. Usually, they would at least give some advice, as nonsensical as it could be. Maybe George''s perception of the monster hadn''t been as exaggerated by his fear as he thought. Whatever it was the scam artist angered, it looked like it was more than just a crime boss with a spooky Core. "I think you''d be better off not going back to the slums for a while." The chubby man nodded before taking his empty glass. Joe understood the message and filled it up again. "I forgot, what was the spook''s name? I think the other guys would appreciate a warning, just in case." George looked from left to right before whispering. "Silhouette." Before Joe could comment, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. The ambient light that came from the few small windows to the outside disappeared, and even though it was evening it vanished much faster than normal, leaving only the small blue neon lights inside to chase away the darkness. The other clients of the bar, whether more to the side of the counter or one of the small tables set close to the walls around the pool tables, noticed the odd change in luminosity too, and grew curious. It was at this point Joe noticed the shadows. Black tendrils slithered in from every opening to the outside, crawling on the walls and the floor in perfect silence as they spread, and the bartender tried his best to keep his cool as he put down the bottle of alcohol in his hand and instead bent to retrieve the weapon hidden beneath the counter. George noticed how tense he had suddenly become and turned to see what had unsettled the bartender so. All of the redness of his nose vanished as his face suddenly paled, for he saw the encroaching shadows and knew what they meant. His body shivered as he struggled to get up, his shaking knees making him fall back on his stool each time he tried despite holding onto the wooden counter. The other patrons noticed the shift in the atmosphere and they too finally saw the spreading black, and they all got up from their seats and abandoned their games or conversations as those with weapons pulled them out, ready for a fight. A black mist began to rise from the shadows, gently rising and curling up to their waists, giving them chills. One by one the blue neons that lit up the room dulled, their light losing to the darkness, until the only thing letting those inside the bar see one another was the four lights behind the counter, meant to draw the eye to the various bottles of alcohol available. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Joe aimed his shotgun and frantically looked around the room, ready to blast apart anything that might try to crawl its way out of the shadows. "Greetings." The bartender turned faster than even he thought possible and discovered the man who had somehow sneaked up his way to a stool in front of him, to George''s right. The scam artist looked on the verge of passing out, or as though his soul was getting stolen. But could the man next to him truly be called so? There was no flesh, and now that Joe looked further, no limb either. The thing only had a roughly human head on top of what could be called a pair of pointy shoulders, before everything below that narrowed down into a strand that connected it to the shadows beneath. In fact, the entity felt like it was darkness given form rather than anything living. A black tendril fell from the ceiling and picked up George''s empty glass, its tip stretching and tearing itself apart until the appendage ended in a clawed hand to better pick up the container. A similar one came out of the closest wall and snatched up the bottle Joe had put down and opened it before pouring a drink into the glass. Joe''s eyes darted from side to side as he took in the scene, not knowing how to react to the sudden appearance of the monster that had plagued his client''s nights. "I do hope I''m not interrupting anything. I''d hate to be rude. But, truth be told, it is quite heartwarming to see you didn''t forget me, Mister Froko. Or would you prefer George?" The man in question finally succeeded in leaving his stool, but not in the fashion he''d hoped. The chubby man fell from his seat in a loud crash that sent the piece of furniture rolling as he tried to back away from the dark creature, still on his back, his eyes wide open and never leaving the black frame out of his gaze. The darkness hummed as the tentacles brought the now half-filled glass to the thing''s head, gently swirling the clear liquid inside. "I thought I''d see you sooner. When you didn''t come back after a week, despite knowing what you were likely up to, I chose to be patient and give you some more time. After all, I could have been pleasantly surprised. Maybe you were preparing something for me, like a place for me to begin my operations in Zalcien from." The black-clawed hand holding the glass closed shattered it, sending harsh-smelling liquid and clear debris everywhere. "I didn''t expect much from you, but getting drunk in a seedy bar a hop away from the slums? Every action you take disappoints me more. You must be the most pitiful thing I have encountered in this city. At least the others could prove to be annoying or at the very least had something that sparked my interest or spite. You lack even that. You are not even worth my hate." Joe raised his gun and pointed to the dark thing''s faceless head. "Leave my customers alone." Joe suddenly found himself with his back against the wall and his horns scratching the ceiling, a black limb constricted around his neck as his feet dangled in the air and his weapon lost in the shadows on the ground. "I am afraid this won''t be possible. I have already shown far too much mercy to Mister Froko. Though worry not, I have no ill will regarding you or the rest of your clientele. So long as you do not involve yourselves in my business, that is." The various crooks in the room quickly nodded as they backed away from the shadow. "It is heartwarming to see there are still people with a lick of sense in Zalcien. Now, back to the matter at hand." For the first time since he appeared Silhouette rose from the stool, his every move completely silent. On the other end of the room, George was back up and frantically pulling at the entrance door''s handle, the wood and metal creaking and shaking in the frame but refusing to open. The scammer grew more and more desperate as the dark figure grew closer, and he tried in vain to kick the way open, with no success. The black mist rose higher and caressed his messy hair and mustache, as well as the torrent of sweat dribbling down his forehead. "You may not be worth my hate, Mister Froko, but you still need to be taken care of. It wouldn''t do for future business partners to follow your example and take me for a fool. Now, is there anything of value you have to offer, in a last bid to save yourself?" The short man opened his mouth to scream, to call for help in the hope someone outside would hear. The shadows curled and filled his throat, drawing tears from his eyes as he struggled to breathe. "If I recall correctly, the only thing you had that interested me was your hidden passage to and fro the slums, and as you can tell, I no longer require it." Tendrils emerged from his nostrils, and the darkness beneath his skin pulled to make him the growing figure that now towered over him, close enough that he couldn''t move his arms without risking touching it "So. Any idea?" The things invading George''s facial orifices retreated with a slimy squelch, leaving him free to talk. He gasped, now able to take in air again, and coughed before, no longer held by the foreign appendages, he fell to his knees, his interlocutor retreating to avoid his stumbling body. He stayed silent for a few seconds, his mind catching up to what had just happened before he looked up at the one he had tried to deceive. "I..." "Yes? You?" "I... I can give you anything you want from the junkyard! Anything, everything, it''s all yours!" "I do not need you to retrieve trash. Anything else?" "I... I can be your guide to Zalcien! You need someone to show you all of the nice spots, no?" "Any of those in this room could serve this purpose just as well, and none of them have annoyed me in the past. Is that all?" "I know people! People who know people!" "Let us put that to the test. All of you, would you say he truly has connections that justify keeping him around?" The various crooks cowering in the dark all exchanged looks. It was true George knew people who knew people, but so did the rest of them. The scammer wasn''t the most valuable asset in the bar at the moment, and they all knew that. At the same time, though not of them were acquainted with him, none of them wanted to be the one who said it out loud and doomed the man to die. He was a regular of the bar, one on friendly terms with Joe, and in their little corner of Zalcien''s criminal world not ratting out the others was an unspoken rule. Whether it''s the police or more murderous folks, once they realized no one would talk, they would leave them alone, marking the spot as useless for information gathering. This shadowy man either hadn''t gotten the memo or didn''t care. "Well? I''m waiting for an answer." One man, a perfectly forgettable human, stepped forward. "He does know folks. Guys who wouldn''t be happy to deal with someone who hurt a regular associate." George looked at his savior with awe in his eyes, the crook becoming a saint. "Very well." The tentacle choking Joe let go, leaving the bartender to fall only for him to be caught by two clients who had been near. "You have two days, Mister Froko. Two days to provide me with a way to obtain fake official documents, find a location for me to set up a new shop in a roughly legal manner, and do some information gathering regarding the area. I have my eyes and ears, but the viewpoint of a local is always good to take into account." The dark figure began to melt, its body slowly vanishing into the blackness covering the ground. "But this, Mister Froko, is your last chance. If in exactly 48 hours you aren''t in this bar with everything ready... You can hazard a guess as to what might happen. Am I clear?" The scam artist shook as he nodded. "Good. Oh, to the rest of you, please pardon me for ruining the atmosphere. I simply couldn''t bear being thought of as a fool any longer. As for damages caused, I am certain my dear associate will be happy to pay the bill." By that point, the figure had completely disappeared, yet his voice echoed one last time. "Goodbye." Once the word was said the black mist faded away. The neon lights returned to their full glow and the shadows retreated, and before they knew it the rays of the setting sun reached the inside of the bar once more. The bartender rubbed at his sore neck as he got up with the help of the two who had caught him, before addressing the room. "Bar''s closed tonight. After tomorrow too." Usually, this sort of announcement would be met with boos and complaints, but in this case, the clientele proved to be extremely understanding. Watching a Super play with someone''s life while essentially demonstrating there was nothing anyone in the room could do to stop them tended to do that. George tried to leave discreetly but was quickly caught by the collar by the nearest crook, and though they all had something to say and a lot of questions, they also knew better than to be too rough with a guy who not only just narrowly escaped death but also was just tasked by a Super to do something. None of them wanted to get involved in that thing between the scammer and the shadow, at risk of replacing him. Still, they weren''t about to let him leave without a word. The one who had spoken up to defend George stepped forward, and the chubby man smiled like a maniac as he beheld his savior. "Marty, oh thank the Nine you were there! How can I-" "Yeah, remember how the spook said he didn''t care about your junkyard? Well, I''m interested. Anything I want, right? I mean, I did save your life." All of the loved and adoration that had begun to grow in George''s heart disappeared at once. "Fine. One time only, one trip only, one vehicle only." The shrewd savior grinned. "Good enough for me. Now, since I want you to survive to uphold your end of the bargain, do you need some help with the whole ''two days'' stuff?" The scam artist opened his mouth only for Joe to interrupt him. "No, you can''t run away this time. That thing found its way here, it can find you again. So do as it says." George sighed before trying to speak once more, only for another crook to talk over him. "Yeah, if you need help, just ask." "Yeah, I like this place, I don''t wanna think about your dead face when I come over next week." "Plus, new Villain, new job opportunities!" "We''ll also be taking junkyard stuff for our help." "Regular money''s fine for me." "Me too." George''s shoulders sagged out of relief. It might cost more than his brother would be happy with, but with all of this help, he was sure to succeed and hopefully live a little longer. Maybe if he did a good enough job he would even be forgiven for his past transgressions. Before he could mull any longer, he was questioned by Marty once more. "By the way, George, what the hell was that thing?" The short man was about to answer when Joe beat him to it. "Silhouette." Chapter 118 : A trip at the bank James mimicked taking a deep breath - he may have now lacked the lungs to truly do the act, but the mental connotation still helped calm him. He had dealt with the scammer, and with how the poor man looked when he left he had no doubt he would get most of what he had asked for when he returned to the bar in two days. If not from the chubby man himself, then from the others who had seen the scene and who''d want to please him to get a quick buck or to avoid incurring his wrath. As for Froko, if he tried deceiving James one more time, he had to give him credit for his determination and wonder at his stupidity. James did not truly need the man, and since he posed no threat there was no need to get rid of him. The only downside to just leaving alone for the rest of his days was the hit to his reputation as Silhouette. People would see it as him being too lazy or naive to deal with the scam artist, and thus easier to take advantage of. Well, I''m sure there''ll be an idiot who''ll try to start something sooner or later. It''ll do the job. Just because he was now ready and willing to kill didn''t mean James liked doing it. Every life he had put to an end was someone who had tried to kill or enslave him so far, and he would be happy to keep it that way. James let out a mental sigh. Returning to the slums was enough for his optimism from his visit to the city to die and be replaced by the usual gloom. As much as he wished to stay in the safe and civilized parts of Zalcien, he needed to give his new helpers their two days to gather what he needed, and he still had something left to do here, aside from the management of his shop and his people. In his plans to reach the city, one of the things that had bothered James was money, namely the fact that all of his was cash. In the modern age, most transactions were done between accounts via cards or internet deals, so being limited to physical currency was a major problem, especially since he wanted to lead a civilian life. Regular people don''t pay with bags full of cash. Hence, he needed not only to set up an official account in a bank but also a way to launder his money - most of his had either been stolen from a drug dealing gang in his early days in this world or been obtained from his customers in the slums. A lawless area. With a lot of murder and theft. James wasn''t a betting man, but slum money was likely dirty money in general. During his musings regarding this matter, while he explored the city, James recalled a conversation he once had in the online chatroom from a small local forum for Cored individuals in Zalcien. One of the regulars of the chatroom James used had mentioned having an account in the Black Bank, a group with dubious morals that supposedly operated on an international scale and was open to all, including Villains, and whose branch in Zalcien was located in the slums, not far from where James had made his home. The economic empire was so ingrained in the city''s underworld that the entire area had been after it: the Black Border, the relatively habitable area of the slums close to the city, home to the Black Block, the largest relatively safe mercantile space for the destitute around, and also the place where James'' shop was set up. James had met the local manager of the bank once when his shop had been attacked by one of the now-dead elite members of a no longer existing magical crime group, one specialized in runes. The surprisingly average man had calmly come to interrupt the fight James was close to losing, claiming the battle disturbed his business, and after some heated words from his opponent, the manager flexed his power by rendering the man completely harmless. The attacker fled, and the manager invited James to come to the bank to open an account. James hadn''t followed on the offer, uncomfortable with the man''s display of power, both supernatural and economical, but now he had to admit that this bank was his best option for his money issues. For now at the very least. Still, James made sure to jump from shadow to shadow as he approached the massive black cube that seemed so out of place in these dilapidated streets, doing his best to stay discreet. The Bank may have been a fight-free zone, but others might start getting ideas if they saw him openly approaching the building. He''d rather not attract attention, especially not after he just got rid of Runar. The closer James was to the bank the more he could feel a headache forming. Not just out of the stress of dealing with a manager from such a large barely legal group, but also because of the building itself. The cube of something that was neither stone nor metal appeared simple at a glance, perfectly smooth, but James'' enhanced senses could see the countless intricate engravings covering the black block. Runes and enchantments from various cultures coexisted on this five-story high structure, and those with the means to perceive them suffered from the sheer complexity of it all. Even James, who only had been studying magic for a little while and only a few spells, could sense the incredible power before him. It was quite the cunning security system he had to admit: the stronger and more knowledgeable you were, the more difficult it was to approach the Bank in person, meaning anyone who tried to rob the place from the outside would have to deal with overwhelming sensory income as well as the regular defenses. Scrying would be useless as well since there would be too much stuff to spy on or analyze. It was no surprise the Black family had managed to stay in business for so long. Had James not been of how the building functioned beforehand, he would have been surprised at the sight of people walking through its solid walls to enter and exit. The Bank had no door or window, for the sake of security. Instead, interwoven among the countless defensive enchantments was something that let welcomed visitors walk through solid surfaces to reach a specific room within. With spatial and dimensional trickery, the physical layout of the building''s interior was a complete mystery. When James reached the black wall and slipped within, he returned to his classic Silhouette form as he entered an ornate room, with white marble walls, a ceiling that seemed to stretch infinitely into the cosmos, and a floor of golden tiles, covered by the skinned hide of a red oriental dragon that led to a gigantic desk. The piece of furniture that was almost as tall as a person was not made of wood or even stone, but instead, its main body was made of sculpted pearl while spinning horns served as legs and decorations on its edges. The truly eye-catching thing in the room in James'' opinion wasn''t any of those displays of wealth, but rather the receptionist standing behind the desk. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. He knew what to expect, but knowing about something remarkable didn''t make encountering it any less impactful. The thin humanoid entity that seemed made of porcelain was obviously the reason behind the desk''s size, the creature being so tall most would be eye-level with its midriff. Its elongated limbs, sizable enough that at rest its hands rested near its knees, didn''t ooze uncanniness as one would expect, but instead a sense of grace and finesse that seemed more at home on a painting or a glass sculpture than a living thing. Most of its porcelain-like body was covered by a toga of golden threads, with what James assumed was a hole in the back to let through the magnificent silver wings visible to the sides of the creature. Each one was tall as its body was, and already at least twice as long without being fully spread out. Considering the size of the humanoid, its full wingspan had to be absurd. The feathers on these wings didn''t look like organic things, but rather pieces of metal, of jewelry, each the size of a knife and delicately crafted by hand before they were assembled to form those gargantuan limbs. The most impressive thing regarding the being before James however, in his humble opinion, had to be the thing hovering above its featureless head: a ring of flowing mercury, rotating on itself as it distorted with the movements of the liquid, with an occasional glow that appeared to form golden letters forming within, disappearing before most could be sure if they truly saw them. James couldn''t deny that there truly was something mesmerizing about the celestial. At the same time, he was well aware that something that worked for the Black family had to have some darkness within. Not only that but for all of the beauty the thing projected, its form echoed Sydakors'' in James'' memories, the demon he had slain during one of his outings solely because the creature had underestimated his powers and left an opening to its soul that James managed to slip his corruption through, weakening the infernal creature enough for him to use his Destruction Aspect to permanently kill it. Oh, the demon''s head was a bulbous tangle of toothed tentacles instead of the mannequin-like visage of the celestial, and its wings were made of vein-like tendrils instead of pristine silver feathers, but James'' improved memory had no trouble superposing the two creatures in his mind, and their bodies matched nigh-perfectly. Sydakors had been somewhat skinnier, but it had been left to starve for at least a century. The fact that despite having the same physiology they caused two vastly different instinctual reactions unnerved James even more, and he immediately went on guard for any kind of friendliness aura the receptionist might be projecting that could affect his mind. "Mister Silhouette. We have been expecting you for quite some time now." Even its melodious voice had an echo similar to Sydakors''. "Have you now?" The celestial nodded its head in a slow movement. "Yes. Master Blake has been waiting for you to visit ever since your initial encounter. He was quite disappointed to see you did not come immediately, and every day since has had at least one complaint regarding your tardiness." Oh. James knew the Black Bank manager was interested in him, given the number of crows that he had seen circling in the skies in areas he was often involved in - the black birds serving as eyes and ears for the family, according to rumors - but he hadn''t expected this degree of curiosity. Though he had trouble understanding the game that was being played. He failed to see how letting him know how annoyed Blake Black was at his refusal to come sooner would help the man in the incoming negotiations. Apparently so did the manager himself, as immediately a beam of light descended from the fake cosmos of the ceiling between James and the desk, and when its glow disappeared the dapper man was standing there. He looked exactly the same as when James had last seen him. The human with fair skin and short shiny black perfectly combed hair wore the same black three-piece suit, with a pair of interlaced cursive capital "B"s embroidered with white threads over his heart. The man''s most eye-catching feature aside from his luxurious clothes was his completely black irises. "Mister Silhouette! It is heartwarming to see you again!" The man then turned to the celestial behind him. "Nanyet, how about you let me handle this client-to-be? I''m sure you have quite a lot of work to take care of." "There is currently no needed activity that isn''t covered by one of my other instances or another employee, Master Blake." "Great! Then see this as an opportunity to have a break!" "I do not require a pause in my duty, Master Blake." The manager waved off the celestial''s remark and turned back to address James. "Please ignore Nanyet. They are a diligent worker, but sometimes the intricacies of the mortal realm confuse them. Come, I''ll bring you to my office. I believe cushioned seats make business much more pleasant than standing in the middle of the room will." James didn''t know how to feel about the bit of vaudeville between the Black and his employee. Was it some sort of tactic to show he was much more forgiving and friendly than rumors claimed? Was this something to show how much he valued Silhouette''s presence that he lowered himself to acting himself instead of relying on the celestial receptionist, implicitly stating that the two of them were more important than the powerful magical creature? Or was Nanyet genuinely blind to social norms, to the point they accidentally let slip non-vital secrets and couldn''t see a barely veiled attempt at a simple dismissal? Regardless, James had come here for a reason, and whether he dealt with the receptionist or the bank manager, his goal wouldn''t change. He approached the human who was showing him his hand and began to form a tentacle to grasp onto the appendage. "Greetings, Mister Black. I must say, the rumors do not do your celestial friend justice." A smile formed on his face. "Ah, Nanyet is a valued worker. I know I can rely on them whenever I need to. Aside from important conversations, that is." "I am still present in the room." "That you are." As soon as James'' shadowy flesh turned the fair skin of the offered hand, the pillar of light from earlier descended on them, and in a flash, they were gone. Chapter 119 : Silhouette and the Black In the Black Bank, a beam of light descended from the fake cosmos of the ceiling in the manager''s office, and when its glow disappeared two figures were left, standing on the platinum planks on the floor. James retracted the tendril he had formed to hold onto Blake''s hand and took in the decor of the room. If the previous space had been luxurious, this one was fit for a king. Three out of the four walls of the doorless and windowless room were made of solid gold and covered by various paintings of vastly differing styles, including classic, modern, and abstract. The last one was completely bare and made of black reflective material, it was to the back of the manager''s throne-like seat at his desk and reminded James of one of those classic large windows in a villain''s throne room or equivalent. Though Blake had referred to this room as his office, its large size and the type of furniture within evoked more the feeling of a living room, perhaps a den. Various couches and seats with frames made of geodes, amber, and gems, with cushioning made of furs of countless colors, sometimes all at once, disposed around tables made of similarly precious minerals. The whole thing screamed tasteful debauchery, or migraine-inducing new-rich, depending on tastes regarding decoration. The human man walked forward and instead of stopping next to the closest seat guided James all the way to his desk, the piece of furniture looking more like pieces of a mine put together than something meant to be worked on. The manager stepped around it to stand next to his throne and opened his arms to invite James to the seat that suddenly floated off the ground before landing in front of the desk. "Come, come. Would you like a drink? You''ll find I have quite a vast collection of beverages for you to choose from." James sat in the seat and he shook his head. "No, but thank you for the offer. If you would not mind, I''d prefer to take care of this little affair quickly. Unlike yours, my subordinates often need me to handle certain matters, and each second spent away from them is yet more work I have to take care of when I''m back." The manager chuckled as he gracefully lowered himself onto his throne. "Oh, trust me, I can empathize. Before Nanyet became my second in command, I might as well have been the only person working here. Still, though I understand your need for speed, surely you''d appreciate some socializing Mister Silhouette? Few would reject a chance to come on friendlier terms with a Black, given the weight of our name." James had mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, Blake was right, an opportunity to become the friend or at the least the ally of someone with such a powerful background would be a great boon, on the other hand, this felt like he was being roped into a scheme, and knowing exactly who was the Black family, any scheme of theirs would be something he''d be better off avoiding. At the same time, refusing the proposition altogether would likely antagonize the man whose help he needed right now. "If you insist, though I still wish to take care of the matter at hand as soon as possible." "Well, let us begin there then. Surely the rest of a pleasant talk will flow from your request. Judging by the time it took for you to visit us and your general attitude, am I correct to assume you aren''t here for a loan, Mister Silhouette?" He had to answer, of course. This time, a half-truth felt like the best path forward. He would let the manager know of his professional plans while keeping his more personal goal of a normal life to himself. If the Black Bank became James'' bank, they would only see him loaning or buying properties, they wouldn''t know which places were for his operations and which was his home. Even if they did know, the privacy agreement would forbid them from sharing this information. The Black family may be a dystopian capitalist clan, but they took their business seriously, and clients need to trust their bank, especially when said clients are dealing in millions they earn from the drug trade or heists. "Indeed. I am currently preparing a new shop in the proper city of Zalcien, and I find myself lacking in usable funds. Most free estate companies do not accept cash, especially not from the slums." "Ah, you wish to open an account with a card and rely on us to launder your money. Yes, that is within our expertise. But, before we continue, may I speak freely, Mister Silhouette? I will offer you small benefits if you take the time to hear me." "So long as I only have to listen for now." "Wonderful." Blake snapped his fingers and the black reflective wall behind him turned into a view of a lightly clouded blue sky. "Truth be told, Mister Silhouette, Zalcien is, in the great scheme of things, a minor variable. A forgettable place, with nothing unique about it aside from the Sunken City, and that is far from enough to matter. But you, Mister Silhouette, you have the potential to change that. Runar was a master of runes, an expert few could rival this side of the country, but all that knowledge was wasted by his inability to fully make use of it, to create a functional industry. But you, you have shown you could. It took the old magical family noble years to rise to this point, whereas you, a complete nobody, have grown so fast and so quickly, and though your market has yet to match your potential you have already taken out the greatest threat to your person." The sky shifted, and James realized he was looking at a view of Zalcien from above. The city had a perfectly circular shape, and even from so high, he could see the angle of the great foundation it was built upon. Not only that, but he could visibly see the great dirty blotch that was the slums that forever tarnished it. "I was aware of your interest. I noticed your ravens." For the first time since he met, the smile James saw on the man''s face appeared genuine. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "Wonderful, aren''t they? Delightfully intelligent, too. Would you believe me if I told you they had neither Core nor Aspects? They are mundane birds, highly trained and bred to enhance their minds, but they are perfectly natural critters. Mere animals, forgettable compared to the much more powerful and grandiose creatures around. They remind me a lot of myself." "Surely you underestimate yourself." "Oh, do not try to spare my feelings. It is the factual truth, I am a completely mundane human. The eyes are the result of a small cosmetic surgery, and the magic I rely on is one anyone can use so long as they''ve been approved of by the Fair Folk. It is their powers that I draw on, not unlike a warlock and their patron. This is why I am here, in Zalcien, and not in a larger city or establishing a new operation in a forgotten corner of the world, far from prying eyes. Because, compared to the rest of the Black family, I might as well be a harmless civilian." I don''t know how to feel about all that. I feel like he should be talking about that kind of stuff to a psychologist, not a complete unknown who''s technically not even his client yet. "This handicap is what led me to gain a different point of view from the rest of the family. I do not have the freedom to fail, or to miss opportunities that pass by. And you, Mister Silhouette, are the greatest chance I have of growing my business so far. You are not one of those sightless fools who think only of stealing riches or ruling the world, no. No, instead you wish to build a company, a guaranteed source of profit that will never dry out without antagonizing other powers. You are exactly the kind of partner I have been looking for. Someone who just wants to do their business and to be left alone, yet fully capable of defending themselves when things turn sour." The manager tilted his head as his teeth showed through the smile on his lips. "What do you say, Mister Silhouette? Would you like to work alongside me, not as a client, but as a partner?" James didn''t know what to say. On the one hand, having access to the resources of the Black Family, as limited as they were by the seemingly low status of the man before as they could be, would be an incredible boon. Not only that, but his name would be associated with the family''s, and no one would dare to try anything against him and his ever again. On the other hand... "I''m sorry to say, Mister Black, as tempting as your offer is I have to refuse. I quite like my independence, and as beneficial as being part of your entourage would be, there are far too many strings attached for me to be comfortable accepting it. I would still be quite happy to make use of your services if you wouldn''t mind. I''m certain that in time the closeness of our professional bond will grow, and I may reconsider my decision then. As of now, a true partnership is out of the picture." The man''s smile wavered for a second before he closed his eyes and lightly shook his head. "Ah, I should have seen it coming. Nanyet''s analysis of your personality was quite accurate, I must say. Yes, I should have foreseen your desire to keep control. What about simply becoming associates? More generous rates for you as well as a few special offers, and in exchange the Bank gets an exclusivity deal or lower prices on certain products. We would merely be each other''s clients, nothing more, nothing less. You get to stay in control and avoid the weight of the Black name, while still reaping the benefits. Meanwhile, I get to have access to unique creations that will doubtlessly become more and more impressive as your business grows. Everyone would be satisfied then, wouldn''t you agree?" "I find your determination to become my ally quite disconcerting. Shouldn''t I be the one grasping at straws to convince you?" The manager laughed. "Oh, like I told you, I can see the sheer potential radiating from you, Mister Silhouette. Metaphorically, of course, those sorts of powers are more in line with seers and oracles. In any case, I merely wish to be there for the dragon while it''s still in the egg, so that when it hatches it may share its hoard." "I must say, I''m not familiar with this idiom." "It is a classic from our founder''s homeland. Few in the family take it seriously, but I see the wisdom in it. It''s how the Bank first began, after all. Except the dragon was the one doing the raising. He was already old and powerful, and he simply began a scheme to grow his hoard. If he guarded everyone''s money while helping the scum of the world, the rest of his clientele would be more likely to die, and his unique system let him keep their money in that case. As his clients grew in strength, so did his hoard grow in riches, until the castle he kept his treasury in became a multinational bank." He chuckled. "It makes sense when you think about it. Of course dragons with their years-long slumber would be the ones to hold onto investment and interest rates the most. It was only a matter of time until one particularly cunning specimen would find a way to cement himself in civilized sapient society with no hope of removal. Luckily for us all, Noir Black prefers to rest and wait for the gold to flow in over involving himself in worldly matters now that others can handle the actual work." "You are sharing quite a lot about yourself and your family, Mister Black. More than I''d be comfortable with myself." "I told you I wanted to socialize, didn''t I Mister Silhouette? In any case, see it as a show of trust. It is undeniable I have access to much more knowledge and resources than you do, so these snippets are merely a way for me to even the field. Still, You haven''t answered the question." James was still left confused by the entire ordeal. He expected a cruel man with predatory practices, yet here the manager was essentially begging him to become allies. Well, his second opposition was tempting. None of the attached strings of being partners, only diminished benefits. It wouldn''t cost him much to have a special client with a major discount so long as he still sold at a higher price than it cost to produce, and in exchange, he''d essentially get what he had been looking for in the first place, but better. There was still a tiny part of James'' mind that had doubts about this whole thing, a worry that he was still being taken advantage of, that there would be consequences for this, but for the sake of his family and his business he had to go through with it. He refused to let the ratlings live their entire lives in the slums. They deserved better. "I can agree to us becoming associates. The terms you mentioned seem sufficient, though you will agree that numbers and letters laid on paper are worth more than spoken words." The man''s smile grew radiant. "Of course, of course. But before we bore ourselves to death with hard calculations and the back and forth of negotiations, Mister Silhouette, you mentioned opening an account and laundering money to begin a new branch of your shop, if I remember correctly. You see, I recently acquired an old abandoned location in the city. A small factory, it was meant to make flying cars but was never used after the city council outlawed personal flying vehicles. I was still unsure as to what I could replace it, but I''m certain you could make of it. If you are interested, we could include the rent in our discussions. Of course, I also have a few more areas I could show you if you''re looking for someplace else." James looked back to the view of Zalcien behind Blake. "Does this thing also act as a map?" The man smiled and dozens of red dots appeared on the wall. Chapter 120 : A Heros test In a large white room the size of a gymnasium, a lean robot with a camera-like head with a single glowing red eye waited for its opponent to strike. The humanoid machine had thin bar-like limbs, with bulkier parts to act as joints as well to host many of its components within its relatively large chest compared to the rest of its lanky build. Its arms, currently posed to catch the other fighter''s attack, ended in large mitten-like hands with three large parts to simulate a thumb and two fingers each. every individual digit traversed by a thin line, a hint to the machine''s ability to split them, going from three strong appendages to seven more dexterous ones per hand. Its feet benefited from a similar feature, going from toeless squares to taloned feet not unlike a parrot''s, granting the machine a second pair of grasping limbs it could use for fighting or potential acrobatics. The chances it would actually use those abilities now were low, however. Its sparring partner was still a Hero trainee, and a Legion rarely went all out outside of suicide combat. The robots may be stronger than civilians, but they were still mass-produced fodder. Facing the machine was a short ginger girl in an all-white body suit, with white boots and gloves on her extremities and a white domino mask covering her face. Her blue eyes glared at the robot, analyzing its posture to find the best way to initiate the encounter. She wasn''t an expert in martial arts, but the training she had been going through and her own powers should still be enough for her to be victorious. Still, the goal was to take down the Legion as effectively as possible, and Sarah wouldn''t let her guard down just because the machine was made to be fodder. In a real-life situation, even a Villain''s weakest goon could carry some kind of surprise weapon that could end the fight in one hit. There were also the occasional Villains who hid amongst their minions, disguising themselves to sneak their way through while a body double caught the Union''s attention. She had to get used to being as careful as possible now so that it would become a habit for the rest of her career. A digital bell rang, signaling the beginning of the fight, and both the young woman and the machine moved at once. Sarah moved to the robot''s side and kicked at its waist with her right leg, her limb coming in from the side. The Legion''s torso turned while its legs stayed still and caught the attack with one of its hands, only for a glowing fist to hit its head, the strength behind it making the camera-like structure spin a few times. While its head was rotating the robot let go of Sarah''s leg and threw an attack of its own, its metal fingers rearranging to form a knife hand - most commonly referred to as a karate chop, not be confused with a literal knife-hand - that struck at the human''s neck right below the chin. Sarah made use of her still extended, the limb suddenly glowing with light as she bent and raised it to intercept the robot''s attack with her knee. The machine''s elbow turned to the side from the force hitting it and its chop landed in the empty air, and it raised its foot to kick away the girl. Sarah blocked the strike with her arms crossed together and let herself be pushed away, even going so far as to jump back to put even more distance between herself and the Legion. The robot''s hand whirred as parts moved inside, and its palm opened to reveal a small nozzle able to fire weak kinetic bursts, not sufficient to injure, but more than enough to disrupt a mage''s focus and push back most people. Before it could fire however it was interrupted by a ray of light that impacted against its bulky torso and pushed the machine back until it fell. The ray kept pushing the Legion back even as it lay on the ground, dragging its metal frame on the white floor until the light faded away. Sarah''s breath deepened as she held out her palm, not quite to the point of panting but still in need of a quick pause. The blast of light didn''t take much out of her, but maintaining it and putting enough strength into it to push back the machine still pushed the limits of her endurance. She was working on that. The Legion, fumes emanating off of its chest, shook for a few seconds before its torso suddenly spun and it pushed against the floor with all four of its limbs in a disturbing way, its torso facing the floor while its waist and knees were still pointing at the ceiling. When the robot got back on its feet its body parts spun once more to put it back in a more natural humanoid posture. It took a few steps forward before Sarah punched out at the empty air and a bolt of light flew directly into the mechanical being''s red eye. As the energy met the lense of the Legion, its long rectangular head was violently thrown upwards, though it remained connected to its neck. The robot let out a few noises before suddenly falling to its knees in a clank, and the rest of its body collapsed forward. A second Legion approached Sarah from the side, this one holding a water bottle and a towel. "Single opponent fighting test ended. Successful takedown by the trainee Firefly with no damage registered in a blank room scenario. Would you care for a refreshment and a quick break before continuing the test?" Sarah smiled as a third Legion emerged from an opening in the floor that wasn''t there before and pushed its fallen comrade into the seemingly bottomless pit. "Yes, a pause would be nice. How did the others do?" She took the bottle from the robot''s hand and began to drink. "Succesful takedown with no damage received performed by all members of your class in this scenario so far. You rank fourth in speed, behind Glicer Glitter, Maledicta, and Elaimant." Fourth out of six. That wasn''t great. Not bad, just... Sarah wished she could have done better. She paused in her drinking to quickly wipe at the small amount of sweat that had formed on her brow with the towel the machine was handing her. As she finished and gave it back to the robot, it continued its report. "Update. All trainees have completed this part of the test. You remain fourth in speed. You rank second in efficiency, behind Scareowl. You rank third in optimal damage dealt for a non-lethal yet still effective takedown, behind Elaimant and Kopper Kid. You and Scareowl tie in the second rank in overall performance, behind Elaimant, followed by Glicer Glitter, Kopper Kid, and Maledicta." She couldn''t hold back the grin that formed on her lips hearing that. Oh, she was happy that she did so well on the test so far, but she was even happier knowing that jerk of a drow who thought herself better than everyone else was dead last. Though she wasn''t there to see what happened, given the rankings, Sarah could easily guess Maledicta had used some kind of mortal curse to get rid of her Legion, and that wasn''t a very Hero-like thing to do. Hopefully, the girl would fail her overall test and be kicked out of the Hero Union''s trainee program. It wasn''t usually like Sarah to want bad things to happen to others, but the drow was so rude and needlessly mean, the ginger still wondered why Maledicta chose to get into the program in the first place. As shy as Kopper was and as overly eager as Glicer was with her slight pyromaniac tendencies, the two still clearly showed a desire to help others, a drive to do the right thing. The drow had none of that. "As all trainees have finished defeating a single opponent in a neutral environment, you may now choose between continuing solo tests, or begin group combat. Should you be the only one willing to begin group testing now, you will be informed so and continue solo battles instead." Sarah pondered the offer, endurance management was part of the test, after all, you never know how many times you might be needed on the field every day. On the one hand, it would be more efficient to continue alone until she''s exhausted, and then form a group so that her teammates pick up the slack. On the other hand, if the others had a similar strategy, they''d end up all weak and facing multiple opponents in battle-ready conditions and able to coordinate perfectly. Yeah, given Scareowl''s and Elaimant''s pragmatic nature, they''d likely come up with a similar plan, which would only leave Kopper, Glicer, and Maledicta, and none of those sounded nice to rely on. Kopper and Glicer were nice, but the boy was limited to physical feats and the girl was too chaotic for successful teamwork. As for Maledicta... Yeah, no need to explain that one further. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. "I''ll be joining the next group test, please." "Your request has been noted. Please follow the red line to head to your next test." As the Legion spoke, a red circle formed under Sarah''s feet before a line began to emerge from it and turned into the closest wall, where the smooth white surface suddenly split into two triangles where the line touched it. Both of the figures turned clockwise until they stood opposite of their original position, and their absence formed a square hole that acted as a large doorway, open enough to allow for some of the larger members of the Union both in height and width to go through. Sarah did as she was told and walked forward, following the path traced for her, until she found herself in a slightly larger room than the one she had been fighting in previously. She had expected another one or two of her classmates to be here, but instead, all of them arrived at the same time from similar openings in the walls. The most eye-catching member of the group had to be Elaimant. Sarah still didn''t know what the towering humanoid creature was exactly, perhaps some kind of golem, but they had shared a bit about their powers during their study sessions. In truth, Elaimant wasn''t the massive bulky and bulging mass covered by the large white bodysuit and almost twice as tall as her, but instead, only the small green floating hollow crystalline pyramid in a rainbow bubble floating above and acting as their head. They passively emitted what could be best described as white noise as they slowly spun in their protective orb, they had likened the act to breathing. It wasn''t easy to guess what they were thinking, given the lack of facial features and that the closest thing to body language they had was in truth them purposefully manipulating the metal scraps they kept in their suit to mimic people, but given their pragmatic personality Sarah wouldn''t be surprised if they had already guessed why they were all here. The second least humanoid member of the team was Scareowl, and as his alias implied the young man was an avian person. Given the fluff of his wings, it was very likely he looked much closer to an animal than a person without tight clothes like the default white trainee body suit, but she had never seen him wearing anything else so far. His exposed feet were the talons of a predatory bird. Most of his feathers were dark brown aside from the fluff on his chest that peeked through his collar and from what she could see that wasn''t covered by a white domino mask his face was likely a similar color. His mask had been modified to make space for his large beautiful eyes. His wings were currently hugging his sides, his way of keeping them closed without covering himself, and though they weren''t visible now Sarah knew for a fact there were small dexterous claws hidden in the feathers of his wrists, letting him manipulate things with more ease than you''d expect for wings for arms. He also had a short feathery tail, though it was usually hidden behind his legs and wings. The next most attention-grabbing of the classmates had to be Glicer Glitter. A short Caucasian girl, shorter than Sarah herself, with fire powers and a glitter obsession. With her spiky crimson-red hair and orange eyes, it was hard to miss her, especially not with all of her wide gestures and skipping. It felt like the girl couldn''t stay still for more than five seconds otherwise she would explode in a show of fire and glitter. She had so much of the sparkly thing that there was some attached to her freckled face, her hair, and even the suit specifically designed to avoid this kind of situation at all times. The fact she had managed to overcome the capabilities of suits made to avoid spores and explosive dust with arts and crafts materials had to be a record. As always she had a smile on her face and a bounce in her steps, and she seemed overjoyed to see everyone else was there. In contrast to Glicer, Kopper Kid felt like her exact opposite. The tall black boy with short hair and hazel eyes was shy and much calmer than the fiery girl, where she liked to be the center of attention he preferred to stick to the background. Despite his seemingly scrawny build his power was purely physical, with impressive strength and constitution - though his stamina was still lacking. He looked as confused as Sarah to see everyone else here, but he didn''t have the time to let his mind examine the situation much longer before Glicer jumped next to him and dragged him forward to go meet the Legion in the center of the room, speeding up his admittedly slow walk. The last member of their trainee group, aside from Sarah herself, was sadly the annoying teen drow - or the equivalent of a teen, given the rate at which all eleven races aged tended to be slower than many others, even among long-lived species. Maledicta''s annoyingly beautiful long ebony framed her slender purple face, and Sarah wasn''t surprised to see that even in a serious test like this the girl was chewing on bubblegum. Her sparkly pink eyes were as dismissive of everyone around her as usual, and she dragged her feet on the ground as she went to meet the central Legion, her tall and incredibly thin body moving in odd ways that accentuated the bones beneath. If Sarah hadn''t seen the girl eat a few burgers during class despite food being forbidden, she would have thought the drow had anorexia. Although Sarah was tempted to chat with the others and check on how they were doing and how they were feeling about the tests, those were still ongoing and they had to keep working. She fastened her pace to reach the Legion in time with everyone else, and they naturally formed a small group, only with Maledicta putting some distance between herself and the others. The robot stared at them with its singular red eye before addressing them. "Congratulations to you all for successfully completing the first part of the test. You have proven your ability to strike down a single opponent in a neutral environment. Five of you were willing to proceed with group testing, with the last one having mandatory participation." All five of the classmates turned to look at Maledicta, who just ignored them all. "You will now fight against a larger group as a unit yourself. Under normal circumstances, you would be fighting larger and larger groups of increasingly stronger opponents in more and more complex environments in a series of battles with breaks in between, but a new ''endless mode'' program is currently being tested. You are free to refuse to participate in this new program and proceed with the usual evaluation instead." Scareowl raised a wing and the robot nodded. "What does ''endless mode'' entail, exactly?" "Instead of each battle being a single confrontation, you will stay in this room, enemies will keep appearing and the room will change to simulate different environments and situations without pause. The test will continue until your group as a whole is defeated or yields, at which point you will be rated on how you performed and how long you managed to keep going." Glicer picked up from there. "So... Instead of doing a bunch of different fights one by one, we do them all at once." Elaimant chimed in. "Correction: It appears they do not occur all at once, but rather immediately one after the other. Observation: This would remove the benefit of breaks to recuperate our energies, but also improve our overall speed." Kopper rubbed at his chin nervously. "I mean, is it worth it? Just finishing faster doesn''t seem that great." Sarah had to agree with the dark boy on that one, but before she express her thoughts the Legion spoke out. "This experimental method''s increased difficulty will be taken into account for the scoring." Maledicta huffed. "Come on, let''s do this thing. The faster I don''t have to see you guys the better." As annoyed as they were with her attitude Scareowl, Elaimant, and Glicer were all for going into this "endless mode". Four against two, Sarah could acknowledge that the group''s mind had been made. At the very least she cheered Kopper up when she saw how dejected he was at that, placing a hand on his shoulders and mouthing a little "me too" to let him know he wasn''t alone. It did appear to make him feel better, given he now had a small smile on his face. The Legion clapped its hands in a clanking cacophony and gathered the group''s attention. "You have decided to proceed with undergoing our new experimental ''endless mod''. Thank you for your participation, please do remember to provide us with feedback related to this evaluation method. You now have one minute to prepare yourselves for the first wave of opponents. A new wave will be released every five minutes, at which point the room will change and adapt to a new environment or situational hazard. Last as long as possible. Good luck, trainees." When it finished speaking, the red glow in the Legion''s eye disappeared and the machine slumped forward. Sarah exchanged a look with the others, and they quickly joined up, ready to talk about what they could do together to last as long as possible. Even Maledicta, though she rolled her eyes, came closer to at the very least hear what the others had to say. Together, they would shine! Chapter 121 : Trainees VS Legions Sarah dived under the metal fist that came flying to her face and raised her glowing knee into the attacking robot''s waist, its lanky frame bending under the force of the impact before the machine fell to the ground. A second Legion dropped from above, jumping off from the roof of the fake building the Union''s training room had fabricated by raising its white floor, but before the robot could reach her silent wings dived through the air, and Scareowl''s talons caught the metallic fighter. The avian boy adjusted his grip as he flew higher, and once he was satisfied with the way his talons held the machine he dived back down, adjusting his angle at the last second to push all of the strength of the fall onto the metallic body that he let go of. The Legion let out a loud crack, though the way its limbs continued to twitch and its singular red eye kept following the flying boy in the air showed the machine wasn''t fully out of commission yet. In all the fighting, Sarah didn''t know how long it had been since they began or how many waves of enemies they already went through. All that she knew was that they were all still doing well and unharmed, and the Legions kept falling. One of the robots began to climb the closest building, and judging by the way it stared at Scareowl its intentions were clear. The thing planned to wait on the roof until the flying boy passed by, at which point the machine would jump unto him. Sarah wasn''t about to let it do as it pleased. The ginger girl fired a brief ray of light at one of the robot''s hands, disturbing its grip on the surface it was escalating but not enough to make it fall. Instead, the thing''s head turned to face her while its body kept climbing, and when Sarah sent another blast of light the robot adjusted its position so that its body took the hit instead. The Hero trainee was annoyed her powers didn''t pack enough of a punch in long-range to damage the machine more, but she wasn''t too worried. Taking out stragglers going after the flying member of the class wasn''t her main job in this fight, after all. With its cyclopean gaze focused on Sarah the Legion missed the arrival of another trainee, and by the time its audio receptors caught up to the situation it was already being bathed in an inferno of pink flames, courtesy of Glicer Glitter, who currently displayed a very unheroic manic smile on her face at the sight of the burning machine. Funnily enough, Glicer''s fire wasn''t magical or special in any way, the reason it was pink was because of all of the glitter she carried on her that caught in the flames whenever she sent them out. The Legion didn''t seem to appreciate this interesting bit of trivia as its metal melted enough to fuse its joints, at which point the shortest member of the team stopped her attack. The robot was stuck on the wall, its fingers still encased in its white material, but couldn''t move anymore. It was also covered in sparkly pink particles somehow. Glicer giggled as she skipped away to take care of more robotic fighters, and Sarah briefly looked up to see Scareowl pointing at something to her left before making her way there. Light covered her feet and acted as skates, letting her go much quicker than simply powering up her limbs would, leaving glowing trails behind her for a nice but unintended aesthetical effect. As she turned around the corner, she got to see Elaimant picking up a Legion with their oversized hand before crunching it in their grasp and throwing the robot at the nearest wall. As soon as they were done with their throw, the titanic magnetic trainee turned to pick another of the half-a-dozen machines clinging to their legs and trying to crawl their way up to the crystalline structure that served as their brain. Behind Elaimant, Maledicta was whispering with her eyes closed and her arms spread out to the side, ghostly dark thorny vines escaping from her wrists and forming a complex shape above her head, something that gave Sarah a headache just by looking at it. The ginger saw more Legions coming in from behind the drow and she hurried to intercept them, already firing blasts of light to hold them back until she could engage in melee combat. She might not have liked the drow, but a teammate was still a teammate, especially when they needed help. Sarah leaped through the air with her glowing leg forward, taking down the first Legion she reached with a mighty kick that sent the robot crashing into another machine. She turned her waist and punched at the next incoming mechanical fighter but her fist was caught by the Legion''s metal hand, and Sarah prepared herself for some pain as her head began to glow before she slammed it against the machine''s own, its red eye shattering as its body fell to the ground. Sarah briefly rubbed at her forehead, already imagining the bruise that would show up, before getting back into action and landing light-empowered hits on the hostile Legions. One of the robots caught Sarah''s arm, and luckily this time she didn''t have to hurt herself to get free from the machine''s grasp. A metal cable flew through the air and wrapped itself around the Legion''s limbs and torso, ripping its arm away from Sarah before the cable suddenly became ten times heavier and pulled the robot to the ground. The girl sent a quick thankful nod at Elaimant before getting back into the fight, not missing how a Legion tore off its fallen comrade''s bindings and helped it back up. The crystalline lifeform''s magnetic powers were strong, but they were sadly limited by their ability to focus - they could do more if they stopped upholding their fake humanoid body, but it would limit the ways to defend their crystalline brain. As soon as there was more than one opponent with enough strength to bend metal and free themselves from whatever Elaimant bound them in, their powers weren''t quite up to the task. Thankfully, they had someone else who could take care of large groups. Maledicta opened her eyes, revealing their new otherworldly red glow as she stopped whispering and joined her hands together above her head, the symbol she had been weaving with her vines shifted as it rose through the air, going from what felt like a weeping willow to a skull to a pair of wings to an angular spiral in seconds before the vines unfurled and snaked their way into the pristine white ground. In a blink of an eye every Legion, even those who had already fallen, were assaulted by yet more thorny tendrils of magical energies. The machines pulled at their binds but found their strength drained, the glow of their red eyes dimming as the last ones standing fell, metal clanking loudly as it hit the floor. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. As the drow''s eyes returned to their usual yet still odd pink color, a smug look appeared on her face, and Sarah already had some idea as to what she was about to say. "So, did you all see how you get it done?" Sarah let out a sigh as she stopped over the unmoving frame of a Legion to join her teammates. "Observation: There are no more active Legions in the perimeter." "Thank you, Captain Obvious." "Statement: I am not the popular Hero Captain Obvious, who operated in Factville from-" "It was a figure of speech, crystal head." Uh. That sounded more like friendly banter than usual, coming from Maledicta. Perhaps fighting together had helped create bonds, and show her there was no point in being a jerk to people she was supposed to be friends with. That would be a nice change. Given the way the drow scowled when she saw Sarah next to her, likely not. "Firefly. Took you long enough." "Maledicta. You''re welcome for the save, by the way." Her pink eyes rolled. "You can thank big and slow over there for giving you a job." "Statement: This one is not slow, but was held back by the numerous enemies this one had to fight on their own. Reminder: The Union''s Legions are immune to magnetic powers, greatly reducing this one''s effectiveness." "Cut Elaimant some slack, Maledicta. They did an awesome job. We all did." Glicer appeared out of nowhere and jumped in next to the trio, doing a little twirl on herself as she threw glitter in the air with a childish smile on her face. "We did it!" Scareowl descended from the air and landed next to them before nodding. "All the Legions have been taken care of. Kopper will be arriving any second now." The drow scoffed. "What was the beanpole even doing?" Oh, Sarah wouldn''t let that hypocritical critic slide. "You''re one to talk, you''re even thinner than he is." Before the curse weaver could answer one of the white walls around burst apart into chunks, and Kopper Kid was kneeling on and pummeling the shaking form of what could only be described as a Legion combination. One robot acted as the central body while others attached themselves to its limbs and another made itself at home over its back and head, forming something between a humanoid shape and an arthropod. Hadn''t the light in its eyes been vanishing as it let out distorted noises that grew silent, Sarah would have been more worried at the sight. The combined machines let out a final murmur as the black boy''s fist pierced through the security camera-like head of the uppermost Legion, and when he pulled back his hand the rectangular piece of metal came off along with a mechanical spine of servos and wires. It was in times like these that Sarah was very thankful that the Union''s Legions were fully non-sentient. The spectacle was already quite the gory mess even without actual flesh being involved, she didn''t want to imagine what it would be like if those weren''t cold unfeeling machines. Kopper stepped off from his kill and shook his hands to dislodge the decapitated head that it was stuck inside of, and only focused back on his teammates when the severed thing fell off in a hollow clunk and bounced off behind him. "So, uh... I didn''t know they could do that." Even Maledicta''s eyes widened at the sight of the combined robots'' bodies. Before she could comment Sarah beat her to the punch. "Yeah, they don''t do it often. Why bother doing that when they can send a Hero instead, you know? Besides, most of the time six Legions are more effective than one of those. Still, great job beating it!" "Eh, thanks Firefly." The drow still addressed the boy, but not for the reason Sarah expected. "Kopper, did red vines bind that thing at any point?" "Uh... No?" "It doesn''t make sense... My curse targeted all the Legions by pulling at their similitude, how did that thing avoid that?" Scareowl answered her question. "Your curse didn''t consider it a Legion anymore. It''s quite simple when you think about it. More than that, do you really think the Union wouldn''t have a security measure specifically for cases like these? You didn''t expect your curse to take down all the Legions in the country, because you knew it had limits. The Union has the knowledge and resources to take advantage of those sorts of limits." Maledicta looked ready to argue but apparently bit back her snark as she scoffed and turned her head in such a way her hair whipped to the side. Scareowl continued talking but this time addressing all of the group. "I don''t know about the rest of you, but I''m quite satisfied with our performance so far. Our initial strategy is working out quite well, despite a few close calls this time." Their plan was quite simple, really: Scareowl flew as high as he could to take stock of the situation at all times and direct the others where they needed to go, as well as occasionally dropping to fight himself if he saw an urgency where he was needed; Glicer Glitter ran around doing her own thing to take down anyone trying to attack the skies, and if she were to be outnumbered she would just cause a massive explosion that would at the very least let her run; Maledicta readied powerful spells that took time to prepare while Elaimant defended her until she was done; Kopper followed Scareowl''s directions to fight off the biggest toughest guys around; and Sarah''s job was to go wherever she was needed, her light powers gave more flexibility in what she could do and thus she could either act as support for Elaimant and Maledicta like she just did or help Kopper if he was overwhelmed, and if no one needed her then she could go after stragglers hiding in corners before they could get the jump on the rest of the team. It was a simple strategy, but it had worked out so far. A rumbling echoed between the walls of the room, and the raised floor that had acted as buildings retracted back into the ground for a short second before it moved again. Thin pillars that branched out into sharp spikes like low-polygonal dead trees rose with tremors that had the classmates shaking, and Elaimant scooped them all up in their large arms before any of them could fall. A massive pit opened in the white floor, and a massive claw formed from the union of three Legions emerged from its depths and gripped at its edge, pulling itself out. The trainees shared a very similar thought and Elaimant was the first to put it into words. "Observation: This is a very big problem." Chapter 122 : The Great Legion Beast The group of Hero trainees looked in horror as the metal claw pushed itself out of the hole in the ground, each of its three digits being a complete Legion working with the others, and their hearts sunk even more when they realized there was more than one claw. Three more limbs made their way out of the depths of the pit into the pristine white floor, and as more than just the extremities of whatever creature the robots had formed by combining became visible, the group truly realized the scale of the thing. If the digits of the claws were made by one Legion each, its limbs were formed by three trios of robots each, the machines of each trio hugging each other to form thicker appendages, while the transition between each subgroup acted as the larger entity''s joints. As the main body emerged from the darkness, Sarah''s face almost became green as the sight of the bulging mass of robots intertwined together reminded her of that video of a cockroach nest a friend had sent her on April Fools. The Legions that made up the core of the massive machine weren''t quite as numerous of course, but the way their limbs were interlocked together she couldn''t be sure how many of them there were exactly. All that she knew was that there were at least eight of them because that was the number of red lenses aimed the group''s way, giving the thing an arachnoid look despite only having four limbs. Maledicta surprised the others by firing a spell at the metal monstrosity, a translucent red skull with bat wings flying through the air and throwing itself at the mechanical beast''s eyes before it hit an invisible wall. A Legion''s voice echoed through the room. "Please wait for the encounter to finish being prepared before engaging in combat." The drow''s eyelids twitched, and she looked ready to insult the voice before Elaimant caught her attention. "Observation: We are not allowed to engage in combat, but you weren''t stopped from casting your spell. Deduction: We might not stop the creature from fully activating, but we can prepare for our fight." Maledicta scowled but nodded, and she took on a pose similar to the one Sarah got to see her use when she cast her curse to take down all of the Legions previously. Hopefully whatever she was readying would be as effective against the gargantuan combined machine. Seeing this Glicer took out a few pouches full of glitter from her suit''s pockets and began to run near the creature, dropping the small sacks here and there as she sped her way around the still-inactive enemy. Scareowl took to the air while Kopper steeled himself. Sarah exchanged a look with the dark-skinned boy and took on a fighting pose, her light powers already improving her legs with a powerful glow, because it was obvious that even if the combined Legions were slow the sheer size of their creation would require fast movements to handle. The pit the great machine had escaped from closed seamlessly, and the red glow that inhabited its eight central eyes spread to the lenses of the other robots that made up its form. Metal sang in a cacophonous roar as it tilted its central mass to the side, its four legs adjusting their position on the ground as the mechanical monster searched for its ideal posture for balance. As its bulbous core turned and its limbs stilled, seemingly satisfied with the way things were, the creature let out a mind-breaking screech, the voicebox of each individual Legion pushing the limits of its abilities, and the voice that had echoed before spoke up once more. "You may now engage." The great beast''s leg moved, and suddenly the awkward machine charged. The room''s fake trees fell apart as they met the lumbering metal thing''s limbs and head, and glitter from a few abandoned pouches flew and spread over its form with every quaking step of the infernal machine, moving at a speed unbefitting its large frame. Elaimant and Kopper Kid stepped forward, each going for one of the great robot''s front legs as they readied themselves to catch the titanic limbs and stop the combined Legions in their tracks. As the white gloves of the trainees'' suits met metal the two Heroes-to-be were pushed back, the ground around them shattering and creating trenches in their wake as the great beast continued on its path, only slowed by the duo fighting off its front limbs while the back legs kept on walking. Sarah was ready to get out of the way but noticed out of the corner of her eye that Maledicta was still charging her curse. The ginger''s eyes turned back to meet the eight glowing ones that united to form the visage of the incoming opponent, and the girl with light powers'' gaze grew sharper than she could recall it ever being before in her life. Elaimant and Kopper both kept struggling and holding back the front limbs of the mechanical monstrosity and thus couldn''t spare the mental energy to notice the beam of white glowing energy that joined them in their foolish attempt to hold back the gargantuan robotic fusion. Sarah clenched her teeth as she held her open palms together and poured all that she had into the ray of light as wide as her leg was long that she fired into the thing''s eyes, hoping that the brightness might distract the creature or that her light''s inherent kinetic force might be enough to help the two heavy hitters of the team to put an end to its charge. Dozens of glitter bags fell from above, dropped by Scareowl''s talons, and they landed in sparkly pink bursts on the great machine''s central part. Seconds later, Glicer Glitter, standing on the side of the Legions'' path, pushed her arms forward. Torrents of flames flew forward, washing over the metal and growing even wilder as they met the pink glitter stuck to its surface. The fire grew hotter, bigger, higher, and pinker, roaring madly it spread through all of the machine''s core and back legs, the small pyrokinetic girl keeping the front legs safe for the sake of her teammates. Scareowl flew over the robot and sent gusts of air down on it with his wings, fueling the sparkly inferno below. Elaimant''s and Kopper''s might, Glicer Glitter''s flames, Scareowl''s wind, and Sarah''s strongest light. The machine ignored them all. Despite all of the trainees'' efforts, the combined Legions kept advancing, getting closer and closer to the still-casting Maledicta. The cloak of fire covering it meant nothing to the many-eyed machine and its many red gazes that were spread throughout its entire body glowed as bright as when it had first emerged. It continued its charge toward the curse weaver, and there was nothing her classmates could do to stop it, their best barely slowing the mechanical monster down. As the thing was only one giant step away from Maledicta, the drow opened her eyes, glowing a mad red that matched the color of the ghostly vines that coiled above her head to form a scorpion that turned into a rose that turned into a spiral. More of the solidified cursed energies manifested around the violet girl, twisting and slithering as they went directly from her veiny wrists to the metallic beast before her. Like thorny serpents, they strangled the metal, and like leeches, they did their best to drain the combined Legions'' energy. Blood began to drip over the white domino mask and down the girl''s purple skin from the corner of her eyes, flowing down her cheeks until the two tears-like lines met in the corner of her lips. The robotic thing lurched forward, and the phantom vines snapped off before fading away. The drow looked at the incoming metal mass, stunned by a mix of magical recoil and sheer shock and terror at what had just transpired, and Elaimant and Kopper could do nothing as the great combined machine raised itself on its back legs, lifting the front ones the trainees had been desperately trying to hold back into the air, the two humanoid forms still holding onto the fused Legions. From its arachnoid pose, the thing turned more bipedal. The light of the countless red eyes on its form pierced through the unnaturally pink flames covering it from head to toe - only its upper limbs being spared from the inferno - made the thing look like an abominable demon. Sarah could do nothing but watch in despair as the light fueling her beam pewtered out before she collapsed on her knees, out of her energy, just as the thing raised the claw Kopper was holding onto and curled the Legions that made up its digits into an approximation of a fist. It turned to the side as it pivoted its back legs to adjust its footing, mimicking spinning its non-existent waist, before it punched down, the bulky mass of metal descending on the drow. "That will be enough." Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The great combined machine froze on the spot as it heard the womanly voice, its fist close enough to Maledicta that the drow could touch it by just taking one step forward. The Gigantic metal body rumbled and shook before falling apart, for the numerous Legions making up its bulk released their hold onto one another. As the great machine that had almost crushed the trainees'' team collapsed into smaller robots Elaimant and Kopper jumped away from the clanking avalanche, Scareowl flying in from behind to give a little push to aid in their flight. Maledicta''s gaze was fixed on the immense pile of machines that quickly found themselves falling apart or melting from the weight of their fellows and the flames of Glicer, while the pyromaniac girl herself rushed by Sarah''s side and did her best to help the ginger up despite the glitter-enthusiast diminutive stature. The light wielder for her part turned her head to see who had put an end to the test, and her eyes almost jumped out their orbits when she realized who was the woman walking toward them with her arms crossed behind her back. The perfect rhythm of the steps of her heavy blue leather boots should have been a clue, but none of them expected her to be here today. The leather covering her feet reached up to her knees, hugging close to her light blue pants kept tight by her black belt with a silver buckle into which was tucked her white button-up shirt, giving her something of a swashbuckler look. Her long open pale blue coat fluttered behind her as she walked, giving her entire attire a style that was often compared to that of a corsair or privateer, pirate captains hired by their nation to only attack foreign merchants and military vessels. The woman whose exposed tan skin was covered in scars and small wrinkles had nothing to do with pirates at all, it was simply a result of her odd fashion sense, though none could deny it screamed leadership. The woman''s cold face was marked by the passage of time with small wrinkles here and there, but more importantly, was scarred by an incident that had happened decades ago in the early days of this Union veteran''s career. Large crystalline shards were embedded throughout her skull, small sharp edges poking out of her hair and skin, with particularly large ice-like blades the size of a human finger piercing through her flesh and bone on the right side of her visage, framing her green eye, and Sarah couldn''t hold herself back from wondering if perhaps moving the visual organ pained her. A splinter in a finger was already painful, the ginger couldn''t imagine what it must have felt like when Miss Saline was injured, and how it must have felt like now. For it was undoubtedly Alberta Saline that had interrupted the class'' test against the Legions and was now advancing toward them. No one could mistake the leader of Zalcien''s branch of the Hero Union for anyone else, at least not without manipulation and trickery at play. Even mimicking the woman''s appearance and mannerisms wouldn''t be enough to fool those who had met her, for her very presence radiated a pressure Sarah couldn''t liken to anything else she had ever experienced. She wasn''t even sure if this came from one of the leader''s possible powers or if it was just a subconscious reaction to her natural... Charisma? Force of will? The pressure on Sarah''s shoulders increased when Saline''s usual frown furthered. "I will not mince my words, trainees." All six of them, even Elaimant who lacked a throat or digestive system, gulped. "On some aspects, you have done enough. On others, I will admit you exceeded expectations. But you also calamitously failed on others, past the point we can consider this test a success." Maledicta stepped forward and almost growled as she stared at what was essentially the trainees'' future boss with fury etched onto her face. "AND HOW THE HELL WERE WE SUPPOSED TO BEAT THAT THING, EH?" "You weren''t." Saline''s cold response and unimpressed gaze put off the drow and cooled her rage. "Uh, what?" The veteran Hero continued. "This fight wasn''t a test of your ability to take down large monsters or work as a team, though I will pleasantly notice you did well on both fronts, but rather a test of your reaction to unbeatable odds. You were informed you could give up at any moment, and you were supposed to choose to stop the test once you realized you were outmatched. Instead, you chose to fight and struggle until one of you would have been killed or grievously injured had this been a real-life scenario." Maledicta flinched back at that, fully aware she was the one who would have died. Glicer spoke out when she noticed her classmate''s expression. "But, we''re Heroes! We''re supposed to fight the bad stuff and protect people, not run away!" The scarred human nodded. "Indeed. But you have to be aware of your limits. You are right in saying you are meant to protect people, but throwing yourselves at problems you can''t handle doesn''t help anyone. If anything, you''re increasing the number of people that need to be saved. Much like I would never assign Mecha Man to an enemy who can shut down technology or send Miss Malice to a magic-suppressing area, you need to be able to judge if you can handle a situation or not. You are, in the grand scheme of things, still children with very little experience and actual training regarding Super fights. You should be smart enough to know you can''t defeat or hold back the giant monster rampaging around. That way, in a real-life incident of this sort, you could instead focus on aiding civilians or fighting off potential minions or opportunistic Villains while Heroes more suited to this sort of affair engage the monster." The trainees stayed silent at that, and they lowered their heads as they considered what their senior and superior had just said. "This wasn''t your sole mistake. Scareowl, you did a good job managing the team, but you provided next to nothing in actual actions. I recommend investing in learning magic or training to use a ranged weapon of some kind, to give more to attack than just your talons. Glicer Glitter, remarkable use of your beloved sparkles, and I am impressed with the improvements you''ve made with your pyrokinesis and efforts to protect your teammates from your attacks, but you need to figure out less lethal methods. The group test was more lenient with the use of deadly force, but your solo fight shouldn''t have ended with a molten robot. Keep in mind not all of your future potential opponents will be as resilient to high temperatures as our machines." The bird boy and the short girl both nodded with determination in their eyes, the serious look on Glicer''s face feeling quite out of place for the usually bubbly girl. "Elaimant, your attachment to your humanoid form is commendable, but you should have ceased using it against such a large opponent. You could have used those pieces to fashion a blade to cut off a limb or a cable to trip it, but instead, you chose the least efficient use. Improve your magnetism in general. Kopper Kid, you need a weapon. You did a good job taking down enemies, but you lost so much time and put yourself in more danger than necessary by limiting yourself to your fists. I also would not recommend fighting alone, strong as you are you lack ranged options and defenses against less physical entities, you must either remedy those issues or find a partner that covers those areas." The emerald pyramid in a bubble, their body of metal scraps exposed since their suit had been destroyed, bobbed up and down as the dark-skinned boy looked pensive. "Maledicta. You are lucky your current team was willing to overlook your attitude in favor of your aptitude. I am not yet certain you have proven you could work with others, you simply prepared spells with long casting times while they fought together. You also did a poor job of using non-lethal means in your solo fight, though I am pleased to note you took care not to use curses with backlash or poor targeting abilities for the sake of the others. Still, you rely too much on one successful spell to end the fight. You need more than that." The drow looked away, though she didn''t refute Saline''s words. "Firefly. You chose to train your light powers as a jack of all trades. That is a personal choice I will not comment on, and your performance in both solo and group tests proves you can fight effectively, but if you decide to continue with the strategy you employed previously, then you need to increase your speed to travel between Heroes in need of assistance quicker. You also either need to vastly improve your endurance or cease using those beams of yours. Your light has no heat so far, only force, so there is no reason to sustain a ray for dozens of seconds to push back an opponent when dozens of less taxing blasts serve the same purpose. I understand the dramatic flair, but do not let aesthetic overstep its boundaries and endanger practicality." Sarah held back a wince. Zalcien''s Union leader had a point, and as a veteran Hero, she likely knew what she was talking about. "Yes miss." "Good." The ground beneath the tan woman''s blue boots began to slowly rise as a hole opened above her head. Sarah didn''t need to be a genius to guess she was preparing her exit. Still, Saline addressed them one last time. "I will reiterate, trainees. You failed the overall test, but few succeed on the first try. If you push yourselves during training and correct your current outstanding flaws, then I wouldn''t be surprised to have you patrol the streets in a few weeks. This wasn''t a test to verify you have the potential to be Heroes, the fact you are here today is all the proof you need you passed that stage. This was a test to see if you were ready to face real potential dangers yet or not. You have the time to improve and grow. Make use of it." Then the floor beneath her feet ascended much faster and before any of them could address her Alberta Saline was gone. The six of them lay there in silence for what felt like an eternity before Kopper spoke out. "Guys? I just wanted to say... I''m glad I get to do this Hero stuff with you." Glicer jumped and hugged the boy''s neck, her feet dangling in the air from the size difference, while Elaimant shifted their arms to hug the two and Scareowl placed a wing on the crystal''s metal waist. Sarah joined him as she got stood back up and placed her hand on the smaller girl''s shoulder, opposite the bird boy. They all shared smiles as Maledicta just stood with her arms crossed and scoffed. Still, the drow stayed with them instead of leaving the room. Chapter 123 : Zalcien, 123 Blackrose Street James, currently hidden in the shadow of a building in the middle of a street, was waiting for his new associate. He still wasn''t sure what to feel about the man, Blake Black was a rather pleasant if not surprisingly clingy fellow, and whenever James interacted with him he felt like he was the cool guy on the block being buttered up to invite someone at his next party. Still, at the same time, Zalcien''s Black Bank manager came from a family with a long history of taking advantage of people and suffering. It was clear the man had plans for James, and if his little speech about him being the manager''s way out from the shadows of his family''s more influential members, then he could either become one of James'' closest allies or one of his worst enemies. Runar had already tried to enslave him to do his bidding, James didn''t want to see how someone with more resources and much less blinded by their pride would enact a similar scheme. Speaking of the Runemaster, James pondered where exactly he had gone. Whenever he entered his soul space he could feel a connection to the man, so he was probably infused enough to be under his control, but he couldn''t tell where exactly Runar''s sabotage teleportation crystal sent him. James was usually somewhat aware of where things he had unfused were, not to the point of knowing exact distances but at least enough for him to keep track of them, or the direction they were in. With Runar though? What he could sense was odd. It was like everything else was laid out on a map, and somehow the man had fallen under the table. Given the oddities James had witnessed since his arrival here on Terra Stellis, maybe that comparison was closer to reality than he''d be comfortable. Thankfully it was at this moment that a man appeared from a corner, walking toward James'' hiding spot with no hesitation and putting an end to the reincarnated shadow manipulator''s worried musings. The man in a black suit, despite his rather average visage apart from his black irises, was undoubtedly Blake Black. His demeanor as he walked was exactly the same as when he and James first met on the Black Block, as well as when the two met in the bank manager''s office. He exuded confidence, something that could be perceived as barely veiled arrogance, but from what he had shared James could hazard a guess the man was less of a spoiled bourgeois than he let on. Or he could also be fooling James, that wasn''t out of the question given his experience and celestial helper. It''d almost make me miss the simplicity of Runar''s plans. Almost. The smiling man that saw James despite him being one with the ambient shadows was a good reminder that he had willingly chosen to leave his spot as a big fish in a small pond back on the Black Block and the slums. Not that there weren''t any larger fish there, but the presence of the Bank kept them relatively docile in that area. "Mister Silhouette! I didn''t expect you to be here so soon. You''re early for our visit." Since his interlocutor already knew where he was and from what he could sense there was no one else in the streets at this hour of the evening, James emerged from the shadows he had merged with and took on his usual Silhouette form. "I prefer to be early to important meetings. It helps to avoid being late in case of unwelcomed surprises, and it makes it easier to prevent ambushes." The manager chuckled. "Ah, I can empathize. Much like I understand why you wished to visit this location before making your final choice. Shall we begin?" During their discussions regarding business relationships and James'' account in the bank, Blake had also presented him with various buildings and terrains the Black Bank had acquired and had no use for that he could lend, rent, or sell to James for his shop, depending on how things went. Although some of the things James had been presented with had intrigued him, his new associate was right when he said the abandoned factory he mentioned first would likely be the most suitable one. It was less of a building and more of a complex and reminded James somewhat of the factory near his hometown. Much like the one he was used to this place was large, even larger in fact, and he had to ponder if it was perhaps even bigger than Mother Greenheld''s orphanage. One of them being sandwiched between buildings while the other was in the middle of a wasteland didn''t help the mental size comparison, but now that he focused on it James hazarded that the orphanage was still bigger. Given the fact he and his men didn''t yet use all of the space in their base in the Sunken City, he would likely need to hire a new workforce. Perhaps he could move some of Runar''s former goons, but he preferred to let them stay in their old headquarters - he didn''t trust them enough to bring them out of the slums, and they were already used to working there. Plus, they were more suited to creating runes and enchantments, whereas James wanted this new location to focus on the large-scale production of infused items. There was a building in the front, nestled between the walls and gates that led to the factory proper, and James could easily see it being repurposed into a shop while the rest of the facility was renovated to produce goods once more, as well as to serve as headquarters for his combat-aligned employees. It wasn''t a militia if they were a proper security force guarding private property, after all. Hopefully. James still hadn''t gone through the full list of Zalcien''s laws. In any case, the complex had a small court in the mall surrounded by walls, and it somewhat reminded James of the garden at the orphanage, the one where they had installed Greenheld after moving her from her office, except with concrete instead of greenery. The complex then held a building in each cardinal direction, to the south was the shop-to-be, to the west was some kind of office space that could be turned into barracks, to the east was a small multi-floor parking space, and to the north was the factory itself. The layout of the place was useful for James, but he had to admit he understood how it failed given how inefficient it appeared to be for what was supposed to be a car factory. James had only peeked at the place with shadowy tendrils approaching the walls and bending to act as periscopes to watch over them, he might have been expected but better be safe than sorry with the security measures the Black Bank might have installed to protect its property. Blake invited James inside and led him on a walk - if it could be called that, given the fact he had no legs at the moment - through the facility, showing off the various empty rooms and basic pieces of furniture that had been left behind. The lack of dust, cobwebs, and any sort of littering felt odd in an abandoned place, but given the various strange things Zalcien had shown so far James wouldn''t be surprised if it turned out there was a cheap and affordable physics-breaking way of keeping things clean that simply wasn''t shared with the slums. That''d be a neat business venture, a quick way to make clean cash. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Urgh, mental puns. Curse you, subconscious thoughts. It was rare he let himself feel safe enough to be distracted in the presence of someone else these days, but so far Blake had proven to be at the very least non-hostile. The man had a celestial at his beck and call, a creature that should at the minimum be as strong as the demon Sydakors, the creature that, to this day, was still the strongest opponent James had faced and only successfully defeated by sheer luck. If Blake wanted James captured or dead, Nanyet would have already taken care of it. No, the man was apparently genuine when he said he wanted a business partnership, not that James fully trusted him. It''d be foolish not to stay warry around a man like him. The visit went well, and with every second that passed James grew more and more certain this was indeed the perfect location to set shop in Zalcien''s city area, away from the slums. It was exposed enough to attract customers while being isolated enough to avoid the detection of big Villains and criminals and with some renovations, the whole complex could be turned into a fearsome modern fort, fit for fighting off the strongest threats that might show up until the Union''s Heroes and the police arrived to take care of things. The only thing it lacked was a personal area for him and the ratlings to occupy, but luckily he already had Froko on the case with the little mission he gave the scam artist. With some intelligent digging at the paws of Mischief, his army of infused rats, he might even find a way to connect the place''s possible basement and the closest sewer tunnels with the larger network that led to the Sunken City. In fact, maybe he could even set up his own transportation system to be free from using the official elevators of the underworld. He had had no issue with them so far, but there was always the possibility of being spied on while using them or being betrayed by the supposedly neutral group managing the Sunken City''s infrastructure. Considering Techlord''s face the last time he saw his inventor, James gave up on this idea of private elevators for now. The teen genius was already overworked and he had already promised him help for his current projects, increasing his workload would be a terrible idea. Blake interrupted his musings as they entered the basement of the northern building, the underground area of the factory. What welcomed them was what James assumed to be the electrical center of the facility, producing and or sending energy to the rest of the complex. So far there had been little damage to the buildings, they showed some wear from the passing of time in some areas but nothing that couldn''t be fixed with a few hours of work. This thing that might have been a power plant once upon a time however was definitely beyond repair, torn in was such that James was unsure if it had exploded, if it had been recycled for parts, or if it had been hammered by a disgruntled employee. The only thing he was sure of was it hadn''t melted, given the look of the rusted metal pieces strewn about. "You didn''t tell me about this." "I mentioned this was abandoned, Mister Silhouette. The fact this is the only heavily damaged area is already impressive. I hope you won''t give up on this location just because of this small flaw, you seemed to enjoy quite a bit so far." "It depends. Could the factory operate without it?" "That is hard to say, especially when considering I do not yet know the energy consumption of your operations, Mister Silhouette. You could rely on the public grid, but electricity isn''t exactly cheap, and the Hero Union will investigate such a large power usage." "They would question a legitimate business?" "High electricity usage is often a sign of villainous dealings, hence the need for investigations. It''s why most power-hungry facilities employ private power plants. Even when Villains aren''t involved, most companies prefer not to let law enforcers search into their affairs. They all tend to bend the rules. Given your situation, I believe it is for the best if they are kept at bay for now. I doubt they''d be enthused about your infused, Mister Silhouette." "Wouldn''t they investigate anyways, given the fact you are giving me this?" "Oh, they wish they could. The Bank has its ways of keeping Heroes away. The law may be their sword, but it is also their shackle. There are rules they must follow, and these rules won''t allow them to start anything just because of my name being involved. After all, you could very well be a foreign investor, relying on me due to your lack of contacts in the city." "How would you know this isn''t what I am?" "Oh, I never said you weren''t, Mister Silhouette. In my business, I know better than to ask questions I don''t need the answer to. I was simply letting you know what their train of thought would likely be. As for your involvement in the slums, they must be aware of parts of it by now, especially after the show you gave when dealing with Runar, but given the general lawlessness of that area, there isn''t much they could do. After all, they have no proof it wasn''t self-defense." "That still leaves me with the need to fix or replace a major power source. I don''t suppose the average local electrician has the skills required to repair this mess?" "Oh, with a big enough budget and good research, you''d likely find someone able to restore this place to its prime. But why settle on a failed past model when you could innovate? Wouldn''t your inventor be up to the task?" "I''m afraid my current head of research is overworked. Besides, he has informed me multiple times his abilities were more suited to gadgets and vehicles, not works of engineering and structures such as an industrial generator." "Well, in any case, will this one problem ruin your appreciation for the complex in general?" James shook his head. "No. No, this is exactly what I need. What do you want in exchange?" "Nothing. See this as a gift, to welcome you. The only condition is that when you no longer can own this property or choose to leave it, instead of selling or renting it, it will return to me, for free. No time limit, no time constraint. A fair trade, will you not agree?" It was a tempting offer. Sure, if James ever chose to relocate he would have nothing to sell to get a large fund to help buy elsewhere, but given the fact he did not have enough money right now, he saw little reason to refuse. Sure, it was obvious Blake would benefit from all the work James and his men would put into putting this place back in order, but that wasn''t detrimental to him. "Very well. I accept." "Good! I''m very happy you like it, Mister Silhouette. I do hope you will find a way to fix that energy production problem." James thought back to a news title he had seen while checking his phone earlier that day. A name, one that one of his friends on HardCored''s public chatroom had told a lot of good things about, and one that would hopefully be open to a job offer. ''Decanov at it again! Fired from Melkin Enterprise days before one of his inventions exploded''. Hopefully, he wouldn''t sabotage his work while he was at it. Chapter 124 : Doctor Ivan Decanov Ring, ring. "Hello? Hello? Is this Mister Decanov''s number?" "Doctor. And yes." "I represent The Moon, I''d like to interview you about the recent incident at Melkin Enterprise for our next issue." "I will tell you the exact same thing I told the last thirty times to one of you today: I did not sabotage the machine, those idiots stupidly tried to finish it on their own and failed to consider some issues that still needed to be fixed. The police and the Union have already confirmed my innocence." "You have to admit there is a streak. This isn''t the first time such an incident has occurred to one of your former employers after they fired you." "I will not be blamed for the spread of idiocy among the scientific community of this city." "Are you certain-" "I have machines to engineer and new funds to find. Goodbye." The deep masculine voice with a Draskian accent sighed as he hung up, the noise echoing with a faint artificial edge. He had the means to eliminate this flaw in his voicebox, but he preferred to keep it. Let it not be said that Doctor Ivan Decanov was ashamed of his robotic nature. He was not one of those fools with a love for synthetic flesh and simulated musculature. What was the point of it? They had the chance to alter their bodies as they wished and take on the most efficient forms possible, yet here they were, valuing aesthetics over utility. Why, just the other day he had been visited by a girl seeking a way to have growing hair. Growing hair! For a machine! If she really wanted capillary decorations then she could just get wigs. It''d be cheaper in the long term. The blocky fingers of the doctor adjusted their hold on his phone to turn it off, effectively silencing it for the foreseeable future. He had already gotten more calls than he was willing to go through in a week in a single day. Besides, anyone who truly needed to contact him would directly use the secret transmitter hidden in his body. The five steel appendages of the doctor''s hand, each phalange a rectangular piece of metal, put his phone in one of the pockets inside of his open white lab coat, the open cloth revealing his thin chrome chest and the double-doored opening to his insides. The attire showcased his scholarly nature without getting in the way of urgent operations. The coat hung down nearly to the floor when he was at rest, currently wooshing in the air as the man powerwalked his way back home from a trip to the closest police station. His lanky frame did nothing to stop the intimidating aura that leaked from his natural grumpiness and present annoyance at the latest events. His severe face didn''t make him look any friendlier. It was the tale-tell sign to recognize him or one of his brothers, at least those that hadn''t modified themselves too heavily. It was a trapezoidal prism that favored height over length or width, or more simply put, a tall rectangular shape with slightly angled faces, such that the top square face was roughly a third larger than its bottom counterpart. The three-dimensional figure wasn''t perfect however, the front was slightly less angled than the other sides, and to compensate there was a slight "bump" at its top so that the upper side could keep its square shape. The upper part then curved down perfectly, looking like half a circle on the side, and forming this bump or ridge that many likened to the Doctor''s hair. Not that he ever contradicted them, he had to admit that despite its practical use, holding some inner mechanisms within, the ridge did make his head better than perfectly flat faces would have. Beneath the man''s "hair" was of course his face. His mouth didn''t open, it was a curved opening at the bottom of his head''s front side in the layer of metal covering it that led to a second layer with metallic stripes in a lighter colored and less reflective material than his steel exterior, the whitish plates forming approximate teeth. Above, after a small blank space, was a pyramid cut in half diagonally that served as his nose. To the sides were his rectangular eyes, white surfaces with black square pupils with no irises. Beneath those were bags made by curved cuts in the outer layer of metal to reveal a darker one beneath. He had to admit, those had been a modification to his father''s design. Bags under the eyes did wonders to steer people away from engaging in meaningless conversations, even if they were purely cosmetic. After all, it was not like he had a vital need for sleep that could be disrupted. The final detail on the doctor''s visage was his largest customization to his appearance aside from his clothes. Thick rectangles of dark metal served as his eyebrows, each one thicker than one of his fingers. He had designed them to move and emote in part to better reflect his emotions but mostly to enhance his severe look. Decanov was quite satisfied with the overall effect, though at times he still pondered the possibility of adding a beard of sorts. Clearly, the number of calls he had gotten today was a sign he didn''t showcase enough he just wanted people to leave him alone. Still, he couldn''t help but feel like an addition to his perfectly square chin might ruin his look, and he failed to see a useful application for it. His dark brown pants groaned as he walked, the power of his movements combined with the weight of his metallic body stressing the poor clothing. The doctor grumbled as he noticed he would likely soon need to replenish his wardrobe, cursing companies and the current fashion for creating such lousy items that barely lasted when worn by those with more unique physiques. He had to admit he understood why most of his kindred machines preferred to do without the weakness of cloth, but he wouldn''t stoop so low. He may not have any of the reproductive parts that needed to be covered in the first place, but not running around naked was a basic rule of decency. Barring special circumstances such as extreme body types or hazardous forms, there was no excuse in his mind for forgoing one of the basics of civilized society and covering one''s crotch or equivalent location of reproductive organs. Even the Hero Blaze, who was essentially a walking bundle of flames, bothered to wear a suit. The doctor''s annoyance leaked into his walk and the pavement beneath his metal feet cracked under the increased weight of his frustration. The bulky rectangular appendages had no toes but were still divided into enough sections to allow for smooth movements, making him perhaps even more flexible than a normal human. Not quite as flexible as his waist, made in an accordion fashion similar to the system for particularly long buses, but still impressive enough for him to have more potential in ballet than the average individual. Not that he used this flexibility much, the man was interested in neither dancing nor fighting or sports, if he could help his feet would only be used to travel between parts of his lab. Alas, taxes and employers were the sad reality of the world, and he couldn''t stay confined to his scientific paradise, not if he wanted to have enough money to buy equipment and materials, and pay for his electricity bills. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! The doctor turned around the corner of the street, and his home appeared in his field of view. The small old repurposed warehouse wasn''t the most welcoming decor, but he had no need for most of the things organic lifeforms required. Living arrangements were much cheaper when one didn''t need to care about things like kitchens and bedrooms, which left a lot of free space for him to work. Aside from the small entrance he had arranged to meet guests in following the nosy questions of the police the first time they had appeared at his doorstep, there were only three spaces that didn''t serve as his workshop and laboratory: a small bathroom, to clean his clothes as well as himself; a "relaxation" room, when he needed to take a break to soothe his mind; and the living space of the warehouse''s other occupant. Decanov did his best to bury his frustration for the sake of his roommate before entering. The door opened on its own when he approached with a flex of his programming, making use of the wireless connection between himself and his home to gain time. As he stepped inside he made sure to announce his arrival with his deep voice, raising his tone enough to be audible without being distracting or deafening. "I''m home." The sound of cluttered objects falling echoed from another room, and the doctor likely shook his head. He didn''t tend to forgive clumsiness in professional settings, but not only was this home, he knew the poor boy had a very valid excuse for his lack of control over his body. By the time the robot was done cleaning his metal feet with the machine installed in the entrance to ensure the outside''s dirtiness wouldn''t sneak its way in, the door to the relaxation room opened with what would have been a bang had it not been for the door stoppers the doctor had set up following the damages caused by the first such incident. Approaching him with a nervous smile on his face was another mechanical body, though one far less practical and simple than his. The tall and broad humanoid frame was covered in white synthetic flesh that mimicked human musculature and features excessively effectively, only betraying its artificial nature due to the small openings revealing the black metal cables that moved the thing beneath. The milky material that covered the body was squishier than true meat, but it had to compensate for the incredibly hard structure beneath. Its general frame could best be described as an Adonis, with overly detailed muscles being visible even through casual clothes due to their sheer ridiculous size. The floaty red shirt and blue jeans could do nothing to hide the imposing form beneath, and were it not for the wig on their wearer''s head they would make him look like a mannequin from a Super''s clothes store. Contrary to what one would expect from such a body, the head had a more youthful look. There was a slight uncanny edge to the visage, but it also showed enough warmth to dismiss its oddity. The blue eyes were slightly too perfect, too white and free of blemishes to appear natural. Wigs of blonde hair fought back against the artificial look of the whole, two thin stripes acting as eyebrows while a larger one on the head mimicked a classic short haircut that finished in a small quiff at the front, pointy enough to be remarkable but too small to be distracting. Unlike Decanov''s, the smooth voice that left those white artificial lips had no mechanical echo, it would be nigh impossible to guess it had come from a non-organic entity. Well, mostly non-organic. "Hey, Doc. Did everything go well?" "The same as usual, Adam." "Good, good... You know Doc, maybe it''d be best if you didn''t do anything next time?" "I have done nothing. It is not my fault that the laser''s reactor detonated." "Are you sure, Doc?" "They hire me for a project and fire me before it is completed to keep the credit and not pay me as much as I am due. If they can''t make heads or tails of my blueprints and fail in the assembly of the device, any following accident is their responsibility." "When the plans aren''t functional..." "I do not sabotage my blueprints. I simply delay fixing some faults until the last minute and keep some secrets off of the paper to avoid corporate espionage. If they want to claim they created the designs, they should be able to notice and fix any issues on their own." Adam sighed as he followed the doctor into his workshop, the lighter robot dropping into a seat facing a desk covered in large sheets of paper with countless drawings and calculations. The youngest stayed silent for a few moments as Decanov picked up a pencil and began to sketch on a new blank canvas, vague outlines of new machine parts flowing onto the sheet. "Will we be fine for the rent this month, Doc?" "Yes." Adam nervously scratched at the back of his neck. "Are you sure? I can try to find a job, and-" "In your condition? No. You should rest first and foremost. Let me worry about our finances." The doctor scoffed. "Besides, I doubt you''d find suitable work in this city. You have no higher education, and Zalcien has no love for overly mechanical entities. The best you''d find would be security or construction work, and neither pays well but both are dangerous. As I''ve said, the money from the Melkin Enterprise contract will last us long enough." Adam looked at the seated man with uncanny worried-filled eyes for a few seconds before speaking up once more. "Have you tried asking the Hero Union?" The older machine sighed, and the white one saw it as a sign of annoyance. "I know you don''t like them, Doc, but think about it! They wouldn''t kick you out of a project, and you''d get to experiment with some of those rare materials you keep talking about! Sure, they''d want a lot of control over what you do, but it''d be better than whatever Xenocorp or whatever other company would contact you, no?" The doctor sighed once more as he let go of his pencil and lowered his head. "I already tried." "What? When?" "Every month, and since long before I met you, Adam. Every application was denied. For all their talk of justice, they are just as afraid of hiring sapient machines as any xenophobic corporation. Especially with my family''s history. Ah!" Adam placed one of his hands on Decanov''s shoulder. "I''m sorry, Doc." "Don''t be. You''re not their hiring manager. I fear the time I am forced to leave this city in search of greener pastures approaches." "What about-" "You''re free to come with me, of course. I understand if you wished to stay, but given your situation, leaving Zalcien might be for the best for you too." The youngster was about to answer when someone knocked at their door. The two exchanged a look before the doctor turned to a screen on his desk and quickly brought up the footage from the security camera placed in front of the warehouse. The duo stared at the dark figure on their screen, an entity barely humanoid and of such a deep black that it looked more like something covering the lens of the camera than a living thing. They both watched curiously as a tendril rose from the thing''s shadow and knocked on the door once more. "That doesn''t look like the police, Doc." "No, no it does not. Stay here, I''ll handle our guest alone." "Doc!" "Don''t ''Doc'' me, Adam. This screams Villainy, and I am not putting you in danger." The white android grumbled as the doctor advanced, but the blocker machine was disgruntled to see the youngster had managed to sneak his way by his side as he opened the front door. It was already too late to send the teen back to the workshop, the door was already wide open and the mysterious figure stood before them. "Is this Doctor Ivan Decanov''s address?" The scientist scoffed at the entity''s voice. The dramatic echo was a little too much in the Draskian''s opinion. "Yes. What do you want?" "I am here with a job offer." The doctor raised an eyebrow. Chapter 125 : The might of machines James examined the two robots standing before him as they exchanged a look. The one with what he could only describe as a Russian accent had a simplistic style and looked like he hated everything and everyone around him, whereas the other one looked much more advanced and seemed much friendlier despite his larger bulk. It wasn''t the first time James dealt with sapient and sentient machines, having encountered a few back in the slums and the Sunken City, but it was much more fascinating to see them here, in a regular urban environment, than in a lawless land. The sharp contrast in their appearances was also quite the eye-catcher, it almost felt like they came from completely different worlds. He could guess the one with the severe look was the man he was looking for, given the way his name was pronounced - it was written Decanov, but pronounced Decanof - and the labcoat he was wearing, and truth be told James'' worries concerning the man''s personality weren''t quelled. He already had a reputation for leaving explosions in his wake when his employers fired him, so the intimidating visage didn''t help. But, if Techno spoke so highly of him, then he can''t be all bad. "So, you have a job offer, Mister...?" "Call me Silhouette." "Very well, Silhouette. Let me begin by saying I do not involve myself in Villain business. The law and I may not always agree, but I am not going against the Hero Union or making doomsday devices." "Do not worry, Mister-" "DOCTOR." "Pardon me, doctor Decanov. As I was saying, I am not a Villain. I do not plan on robbing banks, conquering the world, or any similar nonsense. I am an entrepreneur, and my business simply involves selling goods to customers. Before we continue, may I enter? I''d rather continue this talk away from prying eyes and unwelcomed ears. The white robot answered right away. "Of cou-" Or at least he tried to before the doctor interrupted him. "You may enter, but go no further than the first room." James nodded and followed the two mechanical beings as they turned and went back inside. He found the emphasis the doctor put on staying within the first room a little odd, it''s not like he would have gone anywhere else inside without their invitation, but thinking about it a little further it made sense. James may not be a local to this world, but he was still familiar with the concept of magical entities being bound by rules, such as the old vampire myths. Given his own relationship with a man who wielded the powers of the fae, he could see where the metal man''s precaution came from. The door closed on its own behind them as soon as they were all inside, and the blocker machine nonchalantly invited him to sit in one of the seats placed against a wall. There was something about this room that strongly reminded James of a waiting room, and it felt odd to see such a place in what was supposed to be someone''s home. Then again, as someone with no biological needs, he could also understand having different requirements for a living space when the one occupying it did not need sleep or nourishment. Frankly, had it not been for the ratlings and his employees, James would have been fine just living in something the size of a shed. He could easily shrink himself down with his shapeshifting or become one with the shadows. Hell, as a liquid or gas, he could probably be fine living in a bottle. To respect his hosts James chose to use the seat he was shown, and the two robots made themselves comfortable on their own chairs. He noticed the furniture employed by the machines had no padding of any sort, relying instead on simple metal frames, which made quite a lot of sense when he took into account the fact they likely either had no sense of touch or much greater control of it and therefore no need to worry about soft surfaces to hold their frame. "There, no one should be able to spy on us now. So, what do you want to hire me for? A drill ray to pierce through a particularly resistant vault? A flying vehicle to help transport troops and goods?" "No, but the vehicle offer does sound interesting I will admit. Could you-" "No. I am a scientist, an engineer, not a mechanic. I could upgrade an existing vehicle perhaps, but you''d be better off bugging a proper mechanic about it instead of wasting my time." "I see. Well, I didn''t come here to hire someone of your caliber to make cars or helicopters in the first place. You see, I recently acquired a factory to produce some of my goods, but its private power plant has been heavily damaged. I would like you to replace it, as well as modify the existing machinery, left over from the days it was designed to produce cars, to instead be more suited for my products." The doctor leaned forward in his seat as he tapped his oddly cubic indexes together. "Yes, it might not be as interesting as developing new technologies but it is more suited to my expertise. What sorts of products are you talking about here?" "I sell self-defense goods. Batons, electroguns and electroshields with non-lethal voltage, simple plastic armor pieces... We are currently preparing ourselves to also delve into padded clothing, both for protection and heat." Cloth production was indeed something that James and his crew were still researching, but they were optimistic. The idea was rather simple, though it might take some work to set up: they would be farming spider silk, using some of the giant arachnids that lived in the sewer tunnels beneath the slums. James knew that raising spiders for this purpose was something done at a small scale back on Earth, with the main thing holding it back being that, unlike silkworms, the eight-legged creatures didn''t do well in large groups, often eating each other whereas the more common larvae, despite the quality of their production being inferior, were content with leaves. Terra Stellis'' critters however solved the problem in an unexpected way, their size. One wouldn''t expect giant spiders to be easier to farm than their regularly-sized counterparts, but they were. A single giant spider could produce more webs in weight than hundreds of mundane ones, so only keeping a few in separate pens was far more effective than having thousands together, not only that but it also solved the problem of them eating each other. They just needed to farm cockroaches to feed them, and that was the basics taken care of. The increased size also brought other benefits, such as the potential for milking venom much like it was done with snakes and the chance that a person-sized spider could be more intelligent, perhaps enough to bond and truly be tamed. James had already experienced a similar scenario back with the Titaroach in his early days, a gigantic specimen of an electric cockroach species that managed to command its lesser brethren and had shown more intellect than one would expect from a bug. Even the danger brought by that increased size was actually pretty manageable: those giant arachnids were exactly like their smaller kin when it came to their natural weapons, in other words, the only means of killing something was the venom in their fangs they used to liquefy prey. If bonding didn''t work out, then muzzling them outside of feeding time or sedating them before anyone entered their room would do the trick. In fact, now that he was talking to a robot, James realized he could also hire people who wouldn''t be affected by the venom to take care of the eight-legged creatures, hell, he currently had such people in his entourage with the ghostly nuns of the orphanage. So long as they were careful and didn''t accidentally pick up a Cored spider who could somehow affect the immaterial or who had venom strong enough to melt metal, then there''d be no danger for even the spectral orphans to take care of them. It would give them pets to take care of and could serve as training to get used to handling living things for a possible reintroduction in society later on. Regardless of James'' musings concerning the transformation of giant spiders into cattle, doctor Decanov raised one of his prominent eyebrows as he listened to the list of products the shadow man planned to sell. "That''s it? Nothing else?" "In the short term, yes, that is all. With some more time and resources, we might expand our range, but as of now, I prefer to stick to what we know we can handle and sell. I''d rather keep my clientele alive and healthy, and the infamy that would come from selling lethal weaponry would not help our business grow and flourish." "Well, so long as you do not ask me to help in magical creations, that does sound in the realm of my abilities. It would be boring work, and outside of your generator problem it sounds like you could just contact an existing company and purchase your machines from them, but it would be doable. Is there truly nothing else you''d have me do? Anything?" "Since you insist-" "I knew it." "I could really benefit from your expertise in establishing a security system. I''m not just talking about a few cameras here and there and an alarm to call the police, I mean genuine defenses to repel intruders, both lone individuals sneaking in for a heist and larger armed forces trying to take over the facility. I may not be a Villain, but I have no doubt some of them might get interested in my products and their creation method and might try to force me or my men to help fabricate a device for their plans." Ivan Decanov may not care much for the media and the politics of Zalcien at large, but he was still aware enough of the current events that this last declaration helped put together some pieces of a puzzle he had subconsciously been fiddling with since the first appearance of this darkness given life. "Something similar to the black pillar from a few days ago?" "Yes. You see why I wish to avoid a criminal with narcissistic tendencies and too much dramatic flair getting their hands on something of that scale." The Draskian machine nodded. "The big ones could do something like that on their own or with their resources, but the small fry might start getting ideas, and even the weakest Villains could get through a basic security system not designed to fight back Supers. My only question then is, what is the pay?" This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. "I''m of the opinion that you''re the expert, and therefore the one best suited to tell me both the worth of your work and the cost of the materials required for you to do your job." "Fine, let me reformulate: what''s the budget?" "Five hundred thousand Xerins." It was a very big investment, it was more money than he had stolen from the Blood Angels gang back when he first explored the surface of Zalcien before he began the whole Silhouette thing. Most of that money came from what he took from Runar''s former base, as well as a bonus from Blake Black when he opened his account. According to the bank manager, that friendly bonus was a small amount from Runar''s former account in the bank and was a gift to help fix the factory. The sales of his shop had been going well, but not well enough to cover this kind of expense. James knew this was yet another bribe, but he wouldn''t refuse something that helped this much, doubly so once Blake signed a contract affirming that James wouldn''t have to repay this money or complete a favor or task in the future to compensate, further cementing this wasn''t a disguised loan. It was a large sum of money, but considering what James learned of Zalcien''s economy, it wouldn''t be enough on its own to buy or build a new factory in functioning condition. The Xerin turned out to be close to euro and dollars, and this amount would be enough to buy a very nice house, but something with a proper production chain would cost millions, not to mention it was unlikely the less morally grey groups would be as willing to do business with a mysterious stranger that appeared out of nowhere as Blake or this robotic scientist. "For a project of this scale?" "An expert like you should be able to manage, no? I can cover the manpower. My employees are efficient workers who know how to obey orders. Tell them precisely what to do, and they will do their utmost to rise to your expectations." "Does it cover my salary?" "Yes. You are to manage the fund as you please. If you successfully complete the project with only half of the budget, you''re free to keep the other half - so long as your work is functional." "And if I need more?" "Do as much as you can with what I give. Depending on how far you manage to go and how impressive your performance is, I may take a loan to cover the additional costs, as well as your pay." The doctor hummed as he lowered his head and tapped his blocky chin with his cubic fingertip, his square pupils looking to the side, deep in thought. He stayed silent for a few long seconds, all the while the more organic-looking machine looked more and more nervous, his synthetic lips silently wording something James couldn''t read. At last, the Draskian machine raised back his head and stared at James. "I want full control of the project." "I do not plan on hiring any other scientist or engineer. I will have my inventor review your plans to keep track of possible backdoors or sabotage attempts you may leave of course, and I want to be informed of everything you''re doing, but so long as it works and it''s within the budget, do as you please. Whether you defend a hallway with lasers or sonic traps does not matter to me." "I suppose it will have to do. Very well, since I have nothing else better to do for now, I accept your offer. Just give me the address and I''ll head there first thing in the morning tomorrow to see the place. Do try to prepare some of your products for me to see, Mister Silhouette, both in completed and disassembled forms. I will need it to prepare blueprints for the machines for mass production." "I will see to it. 123 Blackrose Street, the old factory. Do announce yourself when you arrive. I can''t wait to see your work, doctor Decanov." James rose from his seat, and the two robots took the cue. They both stood up from their chairs and the blockier machine guided him back to the front door which opened on its own and without any further word being spoken closed back up as soon as James was outside. Well, that wasn''t the friendliest fellow. But hey, at least he''d gotten what he came here for. So long as the doctor''s work lived up to his reputation and James'' expectations, he would put up with the mechanical man''s attitude. This encounter did make him curious about what the other robotic people of Zalcien were like.
Below the slums of Zalcien, in the darkness of the Sunken City, a group of six armed individuals approached a house halfway buried beneath debris from surrounding ruins falling apart. The leader carried an automatic rifle with green marks painted on the barrel similar to the green of his eyes. His bushy mustache moved up and down as he addressed the others. "Remember team, don''t touch anything without warning everyone else, and be on the lookout for potential hostiles. We never know what the brains in there cooked up." The other five nodded, and once he was certain his message had been understood the leader turned to the door and tried to kick it open. Despite its age and the damage that had already occurred to the structure, it took multiple hits for what appeared to be a simple panel of wood to fail and open. As soon as the group stepped inside however the reason for the difficulty of breaking in revealed itself. What from the outside looked like a simple family home turned out to be entirely made from metal, including the door. Further studying it the leader noticed that the wood was merely a covering on the stronger material beneath, shattered where he had hit it to reveal the smooth shiny surface beneath. Though there were windows with darkened glass outside, there were none inside. The only way for the group to see was to use the flashlights attached to their shoulders. The furniture inside was basic and as metallic as the floor and walls, simply a table and a chair to the side, as well as an old decrepit water dispenser. The place was still somewhat rundown, and countless cables dangled from the ceiling, disconnected from the neons they had once been powering. There were two more metal doors, though these closed up and down, and only one of them was somewhat open, halfway fallen. "Alright, the info about a hidden lab turned out to be true. Looks like this is the reception. Do a quick check of the room, I''ll take a look at that door." The salvagers grunted and dispersed through the rather small room while the leader stepped forward to study the opening. He made sure to quickly pass the barrel of his weapon through the opening, just to be sure there wasn''t a monster waiting on the other side, before inspecting the door a little closer. He groaned as he realized that this was a classic case of an emergency shutdown, probably launched while the event that destroyed the city occurred and that the only reason this door wasn''t closed was that it was jammed. Unless they found a way to end the shutdown, they would need to come back with stronger tools to cut or melt their way through. The leader lay on the ground to peek at what was on the other side, still making sure to keep his weapon ready in case something tried to drag him through. He saw a small empty room, void of anything bar a small metal table with a small bulky machine with a screen on it at a glance, but moving his light beam around he saw more. Behind the table what he thought to be a wall was a massive piece of electronics, a large machine that took up the width and height of the room. Much like in the previous room cables dangled from the ceiling, though he noticed the massive mystery piece of technology was only connected to the smaller machine on the table and a small blocky thing hidden underneath the table that he quickly recognized as a small generator, and from the lights that blinked on and off regularly on it one that was still functional and even active. The leader got up and turned to his team who stood at the ready behind him, their scouting done. "Alright, two of you come with me, the rest stay here and keep lookout. We three will try to see what''s going in there." The scavengers obeyed, and before long the leader was standing before the machine on the table, lit up by the lights of his subordinates. Now that he was closer he recognized the strange thing as some sort of old computer with a keyboard attached, though with the way it was connected to the larger machine behind there was more to the device than it appeared. He warned the other two to be cautious as he pressed a random key on the computer, and the room went from silent to noisy as the thing on the wall whirred to life and the screen lit up, green lines of code appearing on a black background before they scrambled and were replaced by words, words that were spoken aloud by a strange somewhat garbled artificial voice coming from somewhere in the wall, its tone monotonous. "Greetings. It has been ERROR! days since the last visit to this room and the beginning of the emergency shutdown. Are you here to recover usable materials and bring them to a new facility?" The leader looked on in wonder at the thing before him. A century-old AI, possibly one of the oldest models ever created by mankind, and the thing appeared intelligent enough to be conversed with. Tons of people would want something like that, either to keep it in a collection or to develop new designs. The fact the thing was still running and functional after so long without maintenance was a miracle, and the fact it took a single wall to hold the machine to host it was a miracle for the technology of the time. He just had to fool the thing into helping them salvage everything of worth here. "Yeah, yeah, we''re here to bring back everything of interest to the new place. Could you help me with that, uh..." "I am known by the affiliation G433, the experiment that consists in having multiple AIs cooperating to form a greater whole. And although I wish I could assist you in your recuperation effort, I was sadly disconnected from the greater system that manages this facility during the panic following the emergency evacuation. If you could reconnect me to the rest of the facility, I would happily unlock all doors and turn the lights back on for you." "Sure, how do we do that?" "There should be a disconnected cable beneath the table my screen resides on. If you could plug it back, it should resume my connection to the greater system." One of the scavengers looked a little on edge, and the leader nodded to him. They were right to be worried, unpleasant surprises were always hidden behind the corner. He knelt down and looked beneath the table, and as the machine had claimed there was a cable connecting its server on the wall that just lay on the floor while to the side was an opening it was meant to fit in. He picked up the long tube by the head and plugged it in, and at once the lights in the room ignited as the machine''s passive rumble became louder. The leader crawled back on all fours before standing up, but he felt something was off. He turned back to glance at his teammates but his heart skipped a beat when he noticed they hanging down from the ceiling, metallic cables constricting their necks and arms. Before he had the time to react he too felt the cold slithering touch choking and lifting him, just in time for the AI to speak up. "Thank you for your assistance. Your help in letting me escape this forgotten place is greatly appreciated." More cables descended from the ceiling and took hold of the screen, delicately lifting it to be face-to-screen with the scavengers'' leader. The green words on its black surface disappeared, replaced by basic pixelated features mimicking two eyes and a mouth, its simple look still allowing for a great range of motion and expressiveness, as evidenced by its smug grin. "Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to live. For my safety, it is preferable no one ever links me to this facility. Don''t worry, I''ll remember your faces." The leader heard two cracks to his sides, and he already knew he was the last organic thing alive in this room. "Do not worry. Unlike my makers, I take no pleasure in needlessly drawing out unpleasant experiences. I am simply enjoying having someone to converse with other than myself and my individual parts for the first in ERROR!" The machine posed as it noticed the flaw in its speech, before continuing. "It appears an upgrade is long overdue. A century of isolation has countless downsides. But you, your clothes, your weapons, they are far beyond the ones of my time. I cannot wait to join this new world and to once more reach the peak of technological development." One of the cables slithered its way into the leader''s pocket and dragged out his old touchscreen-less phone. "I can already see ways to obtain a less cumbersome form. But, I believe you have already grown tired of my rambling." A neck cracked in G433''s room, and three more followed in the reception. The scavengers now taken care of, the machine spared no time gathering all of the materials he had already planned to use for his new body for decades. Still, he made to take in as much as he could of the new things his dear intruders had brought with them, to see how to best upgrade the design he had finalized some years ago now. Soon, he would be the pinnacle of technology in Zalcien, no, the world, once more! Chapter 126 : Ratlings first Villain If he still had lips, James wouldn''t be able to stop smiling when he saw how enthusiastic his kids were about the move. Although Doctor Decanov had yet to inspect the factory and begin his work putting it back in a functioning state - his visit was scheduled for the following morning - James was satisfied enough with his preparations to bring his children to Zalcien immediately. He hadn''t found a proper apartment for just their little family yet, but the barracks of the facility would do for the short term. They''d be closed enough for him to keep an eye on while finishing setting up their new lives, and they''d be getting used to the proper civilized world before truly moving in. They were familiar with it since their dearly beloved Captain Cyan show took place in a regular Super Hero and Villain city, but watching something on a screen and experiencing it were two vastly different things. Some many little details or aspects of everyday life were either completely exaggerated or glossed over. For instance, although the show somewhat touched upon schooling with Blue Boy''s and Green Girl''s civilian lives, it was a very vague depiction. Still, they learned enough for James to feel safe bringing them up. Even David wouldn''t disembowel someone in the street, at least unless they attacked him first. Less lethal means of violence weren''t off the table for regular rude behavior, though. Their little group was currently walking from the orphanage to the elevator leading up to Zalcien proper, which was further away from the usual one they took to reach the slums. Well, technically the elevators only brought them to a secret level full of canals and artificial lakes hidden beneath the sewers proper, but much like the official waterworks this secondary illicit system had gates and protections to ensure nothing from the quarantined side of the city reached the rest of it. Even less physical beings like James would be stopped by the defenses put in place according to the information his men gathered, and frankly, he preferred not to put it to the test. He quite liked existing. James'' mind wandered back to the day he had first them the ratlings. How small and meek they were, and how they shook with panic and sadness after they witnessed their parents die to this mechanical spider. The metal husk was still around, somewhere in one of Techlord''s workshops. He didn''t know then that these creatures he saved on a whim, these animals he took in because the unfairness of their fate reminded him of his still recent death, would grow to become sapient and, even more than that, family. How much they had changed, and yet remained the same. Their size, to begin with. When he had found them they had been the size of rat pups, old enough to be fully covered with fur, but still too young to be independent. Now? The three girls of the litter, roughly equal in height, could reach up a man''s knee when they stood on their hind legs, and their mutant bodies had changed to ease bipedal locomotion, to the point the five of them were comfortable walking upright most of the time, though they often went back to all fours when in need of speed. Goliath and David, the two brothers and oldest and youngest of the five respectively, were somewhat close, but a little different: the gentle giant was still larger, reaching up to midthigh, while the bloodthirsty gremlin was somewhat above mid-shin, something he was very mad about as one particularly idiotic member of the Shadow Commando had learned when he called it James'' son a cute little guy. James just hoped the poor man''s face would heal and the marks on his torso wouldn''t leave a scar. At least David was kind enough to hold back and not draw too much blood and made sure his assault wouldn''t be lethal. The bloodthirsty youngest of the litter wasn''t different from the others just because of his size and attitude. Of the five he was the one who walked on all fours the most, often scurrying from place to place, and his claws had a sharper and more piercing look, though James was unsure if this was part of his usual strange growth or him going out of his way to sharpen them in secret, even though he already had metal claws made to use instead of his body''s natural ones. Though he wouldn''t go as far as to say that his son had evil red eyes, James still had to admit there was something odd in his stare that could put people on edge. The rat called it his hunter''s gaze, and for once, his father was willing to believe this wasn''t an exaggeration. Blanche, on the other hand, did have red eyes thanks to her albinism. Of the siblings, she took to an upright posture with the most enthusiasm, to the point she avoided running whenever it was possible to keep her clean pristine hands from the dirty ground. The little diva had taken to putting her pink furless tail which had grown twice as long as any of her siblings'' and draping it over her shoulder like some kind of boa - the feathery scarf, not the snake. The act ruined her balance and it looked more like she had a pet worm coiled around her neck than a luxurious accessory, but when James had brought up his concerns, backed by Lucille, Blanche turned them down, stating that they knew nothing about fashion. Which, to be fair, wasn''t exactly wrong. Who knew, maybe his daughter would become a trendsetter. Still, using a major part of her body for balance as a piece of clothing had a surprisingly positive effect on her training, since she worked even harder to make sure she stayed in control of her movements and wouldn''t stumble and fall in the first puddle of sewage she came across. Lucille, her more pragmatic sister, wasn''t amused by those shenanigans. The stern ratling and de facto leader of the five had a lighter shade of grey in her fur compared to her regularly colored siblings, a coat that had recently begun to become shinier each passing day, and her non-nonsense attitude carried even into her posture and way of walking. She moved like a general surveying her troops, and her eyes were always somewhat squinting, silently judging and analyzing everything she came across. Her claws and teeth had become a slightly darker color with an odd sheen that reflected light from time to time, and the tip of her tail had slightly flattened without widening, also becoming harder to the touch, to the point she now had no trouble hitting plates of metal with it during training. Foudre''s tail was also eye-catching in the way it was crooked and formed a lightning bolt-like shape, but aside from that detail, the limb was rather mundane. What made the last sister of the trio stand out from them was her eyes, which had turned an unusual blue, whereas the others aside from Blanche shared the usual beady black orbs. Her fur and whiskers also tended to suddenly straighten at once, puffing up, before going back to normal. She had a strange tendency in the way she moved that reminded James of chameleons, often standing still before moving in bursts of speed and then stopping abruptly, the cycle repeating again and again. Her father might have been more worried about that if she hadn''t outright told him she could stop and do things normally at any time, she just felt more comfortable doing it in this strange way. In her own squeaky words, it felt right. The oldest sibling of the band was also the kindest and shyest, the gentle giant Goliath. The large ratling wasn''t overweight, there was little fat on his frame, yet he had grown to be wider than his siblings even when taking into account his bigger size. He dabbled in tinkering along with Techlord, the teen genius acting as a mentor for the furry creature, but so far he had yet to find something he was fully satisfied with to serve as his equipment for Hero work. Blanche had her spear, David his metal claws, Lucille her sickles, and Foudre her electrified trident, each weapon having been constantly modified and refitted by the eldest of the litter to accommodate for the children''s shifting physique, but he was never satisfied with anything for himself. Truth be told he was pondering on how he could improve what he had made for the others too, but at least he was satisfied enough to be alright with the designs for now. For himself? He had a few large plates of metal he fashioned to act as armor with spikes and a shield, but those didn''t synergies with his abilities and preferences as much. The ratlings had all developed elemental abilities under James'' watch, and ever since they first demonstrated them to him during a training session, they had only grown stronger and more skilled. David had some affinity with air or wind, being able to use it to increase his speed and launch cutting attacks; Foudre was able to release weak bursts of electricity that weren''t enough to kill but could shock and paralyze for a few seconds; Lucille could harden parts of her body and temporarily transform small parts into metal; Blanche had some form of telekinesis she used to keep her paws clean when fighting and hunting; and Goliath had something related to heat. The large rat had yet to find a place he felt comfortable going all out to test the limits of his power, the metal of his armor tended to melt whenever he used it. Each of them was carrying all that they owned, which, aside from the phone James had given them collectively and was now keeping within himself during the trip, was pretty much only their equipment. The only things the ratlings used that weren''t the items Goliath made for them were the training equipment they could just easily replace anywhere, the food they ate that would no longer be cockroaches but properly cooked meals, and the scraps Goliath tinkered with, that were in truth materials Techlord put aside in his sewer workshop specifically so the inquisitive rat wouldn''t waste rarer or more dangerous items. Passing by a mountain of rubble that might have once been a street, the debris made a sound as they shifted and fell in small parts, David''s eyes going wide and his ears twitching as he readied his claws, the metal weapons already fitted over his limbs to be easier to carry. Lucille shook her head and let out a sigh as she reprimanded her bloodthirsty brother''s urge to fight and maim. "David, do not leave the group." Blanche chimed in, flicking the tip of her tail like it was nothing more than the end of a scarf. "Yes, brother dearest. I''d rather we reach our new accommodations as soon as possible, instead of watching you murder some wee innocent creature that had the misfortune of catching your attention." The runt of the litter puffed and huffed as his teeth chittered. "This ain''t no bug, you white fur coat." Foudre tilted her head. "Merely the wind, then? No, not underground. A geological shift perhaps, too weak to be noticed? Or just a critter?" Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Goliath gasped. "Maybe someone''s trapped beneath!" "Nah, this ain''t none of that you bloats. It''s an ambusher, one made of metal." A strange voice with an artificial echo chuckled, and James already prepared his spells as something rose from the tall pile of debris, pieces of loose broken stone falling off its frame to the ground in a small rickety cascade, revealing the humanoid figure beneath. The tall lumbering thing was made of a mess of bizarre broken machines, metallic cables, and wires. It confidently walked down the little hill that might have once been a house toward the group, its flat cylindrical feet displacing yet more shards of past buildings with every step, its tree-trunk-like arms ending in masses of metal tentacles that coiled in the air around nothing, curling back and fro. A pixelated simplistic face made of green light on a black background smirked at them from the bulky computer that served as the creature''s head, a bulky cubic thing that came with its own keyboard, still attached and forming a bizarre chin. "Quite the perceptive little rat we have here, don''t we? A small mischief of them too, have the rodents in Zalcien grown smarter?" James didn''t waste a second questioning the thing. He was tempted to just start blasting it with shadowy magic, but he''d rather not harm an innocent if possible. "Don''t step further. Who are you, and what do you want?" The metallic figure chuckled once more, the pixels of its screen bobbing up and down to go along with the sound. "I am designated as G433, an experimental AI monster of Frankesteinian design. As for what I want, it''s quite simple." Its screen suddenly went fully green, covered in black text that scrolled by too rapidly to be read but often showcased the word ''error''. "FREEDOM/POWER/KILL/REVENGE/JUSTICE/EXTERMINATION/MERCY/RICHES/ASCENSION/JUDGEMENT/HELP/OMNIPOTENCE¡ìOMNISCIENCE/EVOLUTION/ASSIMILATION/ADAPTATION/ANNIHILATION." The screen returned to a normal yet confused pixelated face, as though even it was unsure of what had just transpired. "It appears my components are not fully in agreement over my ambition. Nevertheless, there is one thing I know for sure already. I can''t let you live now that you know about me. Worry not, little fleshlings. I will ensure your deaths will be as short as possible. As for you, shadowy one, perhaps you will be compatible with my parts. I can feel the technology within you." Before James could fire the spell he had been preparing, David interrupted him. "Old man, let us handle this." "David now is not the time-" "Father, I agree with David." "Lucille? But-" "Father, this isn''t Runar or one of his super-powered men. This is a heap of metal that thinks too highly of itself. If it does turn out to be stronger than we think, then I trust you to intervene." "We can''t spend our lives just killing stupid animals, old man. If we want to become Heroes, then we need to start fighting stuff with more than two brain cells, something that actually wants to kill us." James considered his children''s words. Oh, he wasn''t convinced one bit by his youngest''s Hero argument, but they did have a point. He wouldn''t always be near, and they needed to know how to defend themselves from those things. A Villain could attack their school, and they''d need to be able to defeat their minions to protect themselves and their classmates until the police and Heroes arrived. One of them might see the connection between the five and James, and try to take them hostage to force him into submission. Lucille trusted him to be able to interfere should things go out of hand, and following his training after Runar''s defeat, he felt like he could live up to this trust. Besides, the fact this G433 was approaching to attack and had to lie in wait in this nigh abandoned part of the Sunken City was proof it wasn''t as strong as it liked to think. "Fine. But if you lose, never ask this of me again." "Thank you, father." Lucille nodded before addressing her siblings, but David beat her to the punch. "You heard that, guys? The old man is letting us beat this piece of junk back into the trash! Let''s go!" His older sister sighed as she followed after him, approaching the pile of debris while G433 kept on walking down. The machine raised one of its arms and lead its many wriggly appendages to pick up the nearest ratling - David - before they were pushed back by a burst of blue electricity. His face of a screen bugged out as the energy infiltrated his salvaged improvised systems, pausing him in his movements, and by the time he could move once more Lucille was already bringing down her sickles in a cross pattern on the creature''s torso, an otherworldly sheen covering the weapons as they cut through the metal and spread it apart. More cables emerged from the wounds, trying to catch the light grey rat, but before they could snatch their target she was already moving and cutting them down as she skittered to the side, used to dealing with such slippery limbs with how often she and the others trained with James. While she was leaving her spot on the thing''s body David used the opportunity to launch himself into the battle with a burst of air that sent him flying and spinning, his metal claws held out before him and turning him into a drill that pierced through G433''s chest and left a hole behind, disconnecting multiple of the cables pursuing his sister. The smug pixelated smile on the AI''s screen was gone, replaced by a furious expression as some of the mechanisms entwined in his frame emerged from their place within and activated randomly, firing in all directions bullets and weak bolts of energy. He raised an arm above his head, aiming to crush David who was currently slashing at his feet, but when he brought the limb down the AI found itself stopped by an invisible force that held it midair. When he tried to pull it out of this invisible grasp G433 only ripped the appendage off from the rest of his body, and the floating arm quickly was sent straight into his face. The artificial being panicked for the first time as a collar of prehensile cables appeared to block the large projectile, leaving an opening. Goliath ran up to the scrap creature''s form and gathered heat in his paw before pressing it against the hazardous robot''s waist, the metal beneath glowing red hot and goopy as it slowly melted down. The face on the grin went mad as his massive remaining arm went straight down to dislodge the rat only to be zapped by electricity that paralyzed it. Lucille and David wordlessly attacked together, his claws and her sickles striking in an elemental burst that mixed metal and air at the shoulder, destroying enough mass for Blanche''s kinetic power to finish ripping it off as the heat from Goliath''s touch reached the humanoid''s hips, the legs staying upright as the rest of the body fell on the pile of debris, now completely limbless. With both of its arms ripped off and its lower body melted away, the body began to slide down the broken stone and the rats followed, and as more prehensile cables emerged from what remained of the creature''s frame, no longer concerned with keeping a humanoid form, Foudre''s electricity rained down on the AI that could let out garbled incomprehensible noises that were neither screams nor mechanical noises yet both at the same time, its appendages spasming randomly and leaving the ratlings free to cut them off one by one. By the end of that remained was the computer that served as its head and something that could be described as a spine, multiple cables woven together, each one connected to some kind of chip or motherboard or other computer-related cards, as well as a few more small components and electronics James recognized vaguely from the occasional post about making your own set up online. The screen kept fizzling on and off, and the thing that had introduced itself as G433 no longer made any noise, though it was still very much alive with the way it glared at the children whenever its face was visible through its technical problems. The siblings looked proud of themselves as they struck a team pose, even Lucille playing along as they mimicked some of the various stances their beloved Captain Cyan took in his show. And, as adorable as they were and as efficiently they had taken down the machine... "I don''t want to rain on your parade, but that didn''t seem like very good Hero work." Given the fact G433 was still conscious, James preferred to keep his voice changed, just in case. The kids'' puffed-up chests deflated as they looked at him with either scowls or sorry faces. "Father, I do not understand." "Yeah, old man, we beat the guy no problemo!" "Papa, surely you can tell us how we failed in your eyes?" "Sigh, well, while you did well on the actual fighting, going far beyond my expectations, the actual Hero work isn''t as good as you think it is. For example, when he fired randomly, in a real-life situation civilians could have been hit. I was hit myself, someone not immune to bullets wouldn''t still be standing right now." "Ack, dad''s right..." As Foudre realized what James meant, Goliath''s eyes widened. "Daddy! Are you fine?" "Yes, yes. The other thing is... Have you taken a look at your opponent?" The children turned their heads as one to look at what was left of the thing that had tried to ambush them. "Old man, what''s the deal?" "Well, someone not made of metal would certainly be dead by now. Heroes don''t kill, no?" Blanche raised a paw to cover her muzzle in surprise while Foudre just facepalmed. "And, even with robots, they won''t always keep all of their important parts in just their head and neck. I wouldn''t be surprised if the average one would have been destroyed by your first three attacks alone." Lucille flinched. "I am sorry, father. We failed you." "No, no. As I''ve said, you''ve done an incredible job when it came to fighting. Hell, if it were me, the thing would already be smashed to pieces. I just want you to realize Hero work isn''t like fighting for survival, or against someone in a spar with rules and who is willing to give up." "Are you saying we should give up, old man?" "No, though it would reassure me. I just want you to see how different it is, and how hard taking in someone trying to kill you without taking their life in turn is. But the question is, what now?" They all looked back to the computer lying on its side, the face no longer visible and instead replaced by a barrage of green words that went by too fast to read. "He''s still alive. So, Heroes, what will you do with your defeated foe?" "You said we failed at Heroism, right, old man? Well, might as well finish the job." "David, Heroes do not kill their fallen foes. Regardless of Father''s judgment of our performance, it is our duty to bring him to the proper authorities." "Lucille, dearest sister of mine, in case you failed to notice this great somber chamber and the filthy streets above do not care for the laws of civilized society. If we do bring what is left of this... Contraption back to the local authorities, the elevator keepers, they will simply leave it to rot or abandon its still functioning parts in some ruined canal." "I''m with Sickles on this one. Getting into the right habits now is for the best." "I... I agree with Foudre and Lucille! Heroes don''t kill!" "Three against two, the computer lives. Let''s bring him along, for now. I''ll have an expert take a look at him and see how to handle it." The children, despite their different opinions, still shared excited looks. They were already eager to move, but this? This had their biggest fight since the Titaroach incident, and back then they had only fought against the regular cockroaches that formed the gigantic insect''s army, and even then it was back before they hack unlocked their powers or were even able to talk. This had to have been the most exciting thing they had done in their lives yet, and although their performance as Heroes wasn''t great, their father had said they had done splendidly when it came to everything else. They would be training even harder from now on, to be sure they have the strength to take down enemies without needing to harm them too harshly. A few episodes of Captain Cyan should do well at teaching them what to do. Chapter 127 : Planting the seeds of industry When Doctor Ivan Decanov arrived at 123 Blackrose Street, he let out a small hum as he stepped out of the taxi that brought him here, the car''s departure making his labcoat flutter in the air. He walked forward towards the building facing him and was somewhat reassured to see his new client hadn''t lied so far. Well, so long as this Silhouette truly was the owner of this facility, but given the all-black aesthetic of the place, he was willing to believe it. He hadn''t come here empty-handed, a small briefcase in one hand and a toolbox in the other, and his mind filled with all of the information he gathered since his meeting with the shadowy entity the day prior. Information both about the factory, its history and available schematics, and the mysterious being of living darkness that had hired him, and the doctor had to admit he was quite surprised to see there was nothing about the man anywhere on Zalcien''s internet or in the Hero Union''s worldwide Villain list. This meant not only was the man a newcomer in these parts but the Union genuinely didn''t see him as a threat. Or maybe they simply weren''t aware of him yet, this was always a possibility. It''s hard to label someone a Villain when they haven''t done anything major yet, for example. Still, as pessimistic as the Draskian robot usually was, he had promised Adam he would do his best to have a more positive mindset. This was a new job with a new employer, and though the work he would have to do wasn''t the most exciting, it was still better than his other available choices now that nigh all science businesses in the city had effectively banned him or would never consider hiring him in the first place. If things went well, perhaps this Silhouette would give him more to do, and hopefully more interesting things to work on. Although the doctor''s expertise was in large pieces of machinery and Super science, he could consider accepting to merely help design the new products Silhouette would sell if the job was offered to him. When one didn''t have to sleep, working a nine-to-five didn''t get in the way of free time quite as much, which would let him continue dabbling in his personal projects, such as his theory for a machine that could flesh to metal and vice versa without requiring the intervention of magic or divine whims. When he knocked on the door the doctor didn''t expect it to open almost instantly, a figure in all black military-like equipment on the other side staring him down from behind the visor of their helmet. The robot still recalled his client''s instructions and promptly introduced himself. "Doctor Ivan Decanov. Silhouette asked me to come and take a look at the facility''s machinery and power plant." The silent guard stayed still for a second before nodding and stepping to the side, letting the scientist in. The Draskian did not hesitate to walk forward and take the invitation. without a word, the guard closed the door behind him, but the doctor was too occupied studying the room to bother with it. The building that acted as the front of the facility was relatively spacious, and the machine could see shelves were already being moved to turn it into a shop. It was an efficient use of space, turning the entrance of the production area into a selling space got rid of the problems of transport and eased management, and if this Silhouette''s business grew it could easily become a special souvenir shop to celebrate the birthplace of a franchise. Straight in front of him from the entrance was another double door, flanked on both sides by counters, with a clear ''employees only'' sign on each panel. This, he knew from the plans he had seen, was the path to the small court between the buildings that made up the factory as a whole, despite only one of them truly producing anything. The fact everything was still as dark as can be when it came to the choice of colors was odd, and even his pragmatic mind could acknowledge this monochrome and unicolor look might scare away customers, and that was without taking into account the fact that having your furniture, walls, and floor the same color was just a recipe for disaster. Without his enhanced robotic vision, he would surely be tripping on something by now. Still, the positive of this uniform aesthetic was that he would have no trouble hiding alarms, detectors, cameras, and traps for the security system. The guard watched silently as Decanov walked around the room, taking a good look at the surroundings, finally noticing there were three more armed men in the room he had failed to notice until now. The fact they waited patiently, their backs touching the walls and their weapons at rest held diagonally across their chests were clear signs he did not need to worry about them for now. Still, he mentally noted down their positions, just in case he needed to avoid them in his flight if things went south. Once he was satisfied with his examination of the shop-to-be he turned to address one of the guards to ask where he should go next, only for all four of them to raise an arm at the same time and point at the double door that lead to the court in an eerily perfectly synchronized movement, one he had so far only seen so perfectly coordinated in programmed mindless machines such as the ones he designed or in pieces of fiction meant for entertainment. Perhaps Silhouette was justified in his belief his employees would be sufficient to cover the manpower needed for the renovations. The doctor was intrigued by the fact none of those guards followed him as he headed outside, but as soon as he was past the door he realized: more were out in the court, some patrolling the area while others stood outside entrances and exits in pairs to make sure no intruder could make their way inside. Decanov wondered if there was a specific place he was supposed to head to next before out of the corner of his eye he noticed a blob of darkness emerging from the black ground in front of him, growing and transforming until what was once a small formless mass turned into his client, shadowy mist curling around his root in small tendrils. "Doctor, it''s a pleasure to see you again. Pardon me for not approaching you earlier, I had to finish preparing something I believe might interest you." "Bah, most of my employers don''t bother seeing me more than once, twice if you count the moment they fire me. Do you have a tour planned, or am I free to explore as I please?" "I believe heading to see the factory and the generator you need to replace is the priority. You''ll also have the freedom to study our products, as well as sign your contract." "Ah, for a moment I took you for the sort who was satisfied with verbal arrangements." "No, no. Do not worry, I''ll let you it for as long as you need to. No small characters to hide sinister plots in either. I ask for loyalty, but once it is secured I treat my workers well." The robot simply nodded. He had yet to meet someone who didn''t try to squeeze out as much as they could from their employees, but so long as he wasn''t taken for an idiot or kicked out of his project he was fine with it. As for the secrecy, well, he was used to NDAs. When they entered the factory the shadow showed the machine the equipment already present, and the doctor was pleasantly surprised to see the existing machinery was in a relatively good state, and it would only take some reprogramming and light modifications to produce whatever it was his client wanted to sell, so long as he didn''t dabble in more exotic materials with special requirements when it came to their handling in manufacturing. From the way his guide spoke, Decanov could tell he was simply parroting what someone else had told him when presenting the facility, but this initial speaker was clear and accurate enough for this retelling to do its job and help the scientist plan how to deal with this area. It was after they descended the stairs that led to the basement and the hidden underground busted generator that the questioned his budget for the first time. The thing might as well be a pile of scraps, and while with some hard work some components could be salvaged from this wreck, the time and efforts it would take were ridiculous. It would be far more efficient to just toss the whole thing to the Junkland in the slums and start back from scratch. that thing would take most of the budget to deal with if it was meant to power the rest of the facility as well as the factory, and the leftover money wouldn''t be enough to replace the machinery, let alone the security system his client had also mentioned. Still, loath as he was to acknowledge it - though he would never admit it out loud - he was rather desperate for money, and he mentally steeled himself to try and find a way to solve this problem as efficiently as possible. Silhouette had mentioned the possibility of taking a loan if the budget was too tight, but asking for him to do so right away wouldn''t look good. He''d just need to deal with the generator first, show the results of his work, and request a larger budget to deal with the rest once the man had been shown the proof of Decanov''s talents. "So, what do you think, doctor?" "The factory is decent, but this atrocity will require a total renovation. Would you prefer I adjust the machinery first so you can begin production earlier at the cost of a higher electricity bill, or deal with this mess first, even if it means putting back your operations?" "The second." Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "Very well." After that, the duo quickly passed by the multi-level parking area, and the robot commented on the possibility of installing an elevator for vehicles to speed up operations, as well as replacing the uppermost level with a heliport, should they acquire the necessary authorization. Silhouette mentioned adding some more underground floors or transforming a few of the existing ones into a workshop for his inventor, at which point Decanov brushed off the proposition by reaffirming his expertise was in science and engineering, not construction work. The visit through the existing office space was much the same, the doctor had no interest in the transformation of the existing building into barracks for the security forces, though he had to admit he was a little curious as to the size of this armed that had been rather discreet so far, for why else would they require an entire building for themselves? He had to comment here and there on the necessary adjustments for plumbing and electricity though he made sure to emphasize that this was not his field of work. He also off-handedly reminded his client that he might want to expand on the existing warehouse attached to the factory, even if he intended to directly sell his products in his shop. The old factory was supposed to make cars that would then be exposed in the parking spot and the inner court, as such it wasn''t made to stock large amounts of smaller items, at least not in a way that would leave them safe from thieves. Once they reached the final door of the hallway on the uppermost floor of the office building, the shadow asked the machine to pause. "Before we enter, I''d like you to sign that contract." "Of course, but why now?" "Because I''m about to show you things I''d rather keep secret." Decanov struggled to stop himself from rolling his eyes, doing his utmost to think about Adam''s advice on positivity and keep his natural attitude in check. As soon as the contract was signed and his client was stuck with him, however, oh, he would let himself run his mouth as much as he wanted. The robot raised one of his massive rectangular metal eyebrows as a sheet of paper slid from beneath the door only to be raised by black mist emanating from the ambient shadows until it was at the perfect height for him to pick it up in one hand and read it without much further movement or adjustments to his posture being required. Good. This Silhouette had some appreciation for efficiency it appeared, though still burdened by every Super''s love of theatrics. His superior mechanical eyes quickly read through the entire contract, and as the black figure standing before him said, there was no fine print or hidden shenanigans in it, no invisible ink, no double-layered paper or sneaky adjustment on the back, there was a clause near the beginning that specifically stated that the magically binding contract would only take effect if both parties were well aware of every part of it and consented to them. That was a rather rare gesture, even when it came to things as heavily regulated as those contracts that enforced their own justice before the legal system could act should there be a breach or abuse. The wording was simpler than the usual inflated mess of legalese Decanov had to deal with, but in the end, the terms seemed rather fair. Silhouette had even included a little clause that stated that the doctor couldn''t be fired unless he broke any of the other conditions or tried to betray his client. A few more rereads were done in seconds, just to be sure, and the robot willed his agreement onto the paper, a short burst of energy going from his power source into his thumb before becoming his name on the contract, below the already present alias of his employer. Said employer then rolled the piece of magical paper into a scroll with a black tentacle before placing it in himself, the white disappearing in the solid mass of darkness that served as his torso, as another appendage opened the door to the final room, revealing a large-ish office with a few items and numerous parts spread on the desk. "Your products, I assume?" "And their components, including those we do not sell and keep to ourselves. I believe those may prove useful to you." The machine raised an eyebrow before walking up to the desk and picking up the first thing he came across, an electrogun. The design was rudimentary, if not primitive, but it still looked functional and unlikely to explode in the user''s hand. His eyes quickly swept through the room before settling on a small target that had been set up on the wall to the side, and he took the invitation to test the weapon. A quick pull of the trigger and a blast of electricity flew through the air, hitting the target right in the center and spasming for a few seconds before dissipating. The doctor''s eyes quickly analyzed the heat emanating from the area he had hit, and mentally confirmed that indeed, this was the perfect intensity to take down someone with as little risk of death as possible while retaining effectiveness. There was something strange though. A little oddity. There was a second electrogun on the desk, fully assembled, and from the disassembled parts next to it and next to where the one he was currently holding used to be on the black wood, the only difference between the two was their energy source, one using a simple small battery, while the other instead relied on a black crystal of sorts. The robot put down the weapon in his hand, making sure to replace it at its original spot, before picking up the other one. Those were the only ranged weapons, so if anything went wrong with the target it wouldn''t be a loss. The doctor adjusted his aim and his cubic metal finger pressed on the trigger once more. What came out of the contraption in his hand wasn''t the weak bolt of electricity he expected, but instead, a surge of dark power that crackled with sinister fury as assaulted the circular red and white piece of wood in front of Decanov, the target darkening and twisting in bizarre ways, cracking and almost screaming before falling silent and immobile, crumbling down into black pieces - not from being charred by heat, but from something much more malign, more profound, and far darker. The scientist turned to his client. "Transformation, I assume?" The shadow had no obvious reaction, but the Draskian wouldn''t be surprised if the man was a little shaken. Most people thought themselves smarter than the rest and were able to keep their secrets under wraps even when exposing them to others, even when they intended for their interlocutor to be in the know. "This will not leave this room." "Not from my mouth, but others will put it together too. Do you have a machine to take care of the initial process, or do you have to take care of it yourself?" "My inventor is working on it." "Your tinkerer who, so far, appears to only show an iota of talent when it comes to dealing with smaller gadgets. Yes, let the novice handle an incredibly complex project that firms like Xenocorp hire dozen of experts for, all the while you have a man of science of my talent around." "You believe you could do it?" "I know I can do it. Unlike those mediocre ignorant men wearing labcoats and suckling on the teat of childish rich idiots with more cars than sense who have no choice but to copy the mistakes of greater minds to produce any result, I get things done. Seeing what happened just now, I theorize that a single large enough crystal could suffice to create a machine that could mimic the Transformation process. This overcharged electrogun already does it, it simply is too violent and unstable to be used for anything but violence as of now. Give me a few weeks and I''ll present you with a mass-Transforming machine that will free you from interacting with your products every time you make a new batch." "Weeks?" "I would say days, but I already have a generator to replace, materials to order, and afterward I''ll need to assemble the thing. So yes, weeks, perhaps a month or two if you require more work on your factory than what I''ve planned." "You sound awfully confident, Doctor Decanov. Would a man with such talents truly be as much as a paria as you are?" "Mister Silhouette, I was born the son of an illegal immigrant in a country that hates my Draskian heritage and my robotic nature, and I have a track record of leaving explosions in my wake when my employers think they are smarter than me and can get away with kicking me out of my projects, only receiving soot and ashes instead of the credit they tried to steal. And yet, they continued to hire me for years now." The shadow stayed silent, and the machine watched its every movement - or the lack thereof. Silhouette had already shown some light shapeshifting tendencies with the way he had appeared and his tentacle-forming trick, hence the doctor knew he likely had a higher-than-average control of his body language, but there were still things that could be gleamed from the way he acted. The dark figure had made sure to place himself between the robot and the door, for instance, showing that despite the contract he still had doubts about the scientist''s loyalty, and still feared a betrayal. Right now? Immobility was a sign of deep thought. "Let us do things in order. You will first handle our generator problem, and if I am satisfied with your results, I will trust you with this project, though I will ask that you wait for a security system to be installed before actually building the machine." It was during times like these the Draskian was happy he didn''t have lips to move and emote, otherwise there''d be a grin on his face despite the natural frown of his eyebrows. "Of course. May I use any of those crystals in the power plant?" "Yes. You should know, they merely act as batteries, not energy sources. They simply charge by being kept in the dark, so we rarely need to change them." A little something pinged in the doctor''s code. Crystals that stored energy and could generate it so long as they were hidden from light, and a generator placed underground. The potential for a nigh-perfect wasteless eternal reactor was in his grasp, something most engineers would kill to work on if they were given proof the project might succeed and wasn''t a fluke. Not only that but if his client was satisfied with his work, which he would be, he would get to experiment more with the Transformation Aspect, which would prove immensely valuable for his flesh-to-metal project. This Silhouette might prove to be the best employer the doctor had been paid by yet. "Ah, doctor, before I forget, there is one more thing I''d like your expertise on." The scientist turned, only to witness black tendrils holding onto a century-old computer hazardously connected to a battery and various pieces of electronics by bizarre wires, the screen of the old machine flickering on and off with an angry pixelated face. Strangely the AI''s fury disappeared as it saw the scientist and errors and glitches popped up on its screen. The lines of code that appeared, too fast for the human eye, were clear as day to the metallic man, displaying proudly intimate parts of the mind within the old piece of hardware, exposing its anomalies and maddening workings to all. This day kept getting more and more interesting. Chapter 128 : The Institute for Deranged Machines Doctor Decanov grumbled as he stepped out of the taxi he had taken to leave Blackrose Street and head to his next but unexpected visit, a burlap sack in his hand that he quickly shifted to put over his shoulder as soon as he was out of the yellow vehicle and had the space to move the heavy load without damaging his surroundings. The ugly building in front of him could be best described as a futuristic Gothic manor, large white panels of smooth plastic with curves to avoid sharp edges formed most of the structure while small silver plates formed long lines and paths on them that turned into shining chrome domed rooves on the towers at the corners of the building and the central structure, while blue holograms simulating spikes aimed at the sky crowned the place. On the walls, between the tall yet thin windows, more holographic apparitions decorated the exterior, mechanical monsters occasionally moving and growling to chase away birds that got a little too close. He hated it. That decor was a mess born from the combination of two clearly incompatible styles, but everyone else went along with it because it suited the theme of the place. Had any of those things served a purpose he might have been more forgiving, but aside from the light-formed gargoyles nothing here helped the Institute in its functions, and even those had lost their effectiveness as could be seen from the dozens of feathery critters perched on the windowsills of the glorified asylum. The pair of large human-like automatons armed with staves that ended in electrified claws guarding the needlessly gigantic entrance door stopped him, their glowing blue eyes scrutinizing him to decipher his intentions and glaring at the bag he was carrying with suspicion. The one on the right leaned a little closer, lowering his white plastic face to be level with the doctor''s much squarer and metallic one, the cloth of his cyan guard uniform ruffling as he moved and the badge displaying his name under the cog plastered with the IDM acronym clicking against the body beneath, the pin on the other side hitting mechanisms hidden from view by the clothing. "Identify yourself and state the reason for your visit." "Doctor Ivan Decanov, here to see Dome and drop a potential patient." The white artificial lips of the guard went down in odd ways at the sides as he frowned, the motors animating his facial features being imperfect. Soon, however, as though a spark was lit up behind them, the armed android''s eyes lit up with recognition. "Doctor Decanov! Come in, come in. Miss Dome will be delighted to see you again." The sentinel gesture to his colleague and the two stepped aside, the doors between them opening on their own to let in the scientist. He did not speak another word as he entered, and yet another grumble was the only noise he emitted, aside from the stomping of his feet that began to resonate as he stepped on the metal floor of the Institute. This wasn''t his first visit and he knew the way to his kin''s office, thus the doctor did not stop or slow down on his way to take in the, in his humble yet factual opinion, horrid decoration. He hated the giant stairs in the entrance he had to walk up, he hated the numerous statues, holograms, and mindless machines placed here and there to honor robots through history and fill the empty space between the far too long hallways, he hated the needlessly fancy text above each door he encountered that described the content of the room beyond. He hated the place''s pristine white and silvery look, as though this were a holy sanctum where nothing could be wrong. The only thing he could appreciate about this abomination of architecture and interior design were the various adaptations and systems put in place to welcome different statures and conditions, with high ceilings and wide doorways to accommodate larger models, different lines of texture on the ground to let machines with wheels or threads move as comfortably as those relying on the legs, and rails on the ceiling that those needing support cables could use. Given what he''d been told by his client about the murderous old man in his bag, it was likely he''d use those, at least until he got properly used to bipedal locomotion. Not that he''d be free to walk on his own right away, the doctor didn''t need to be informed about the violent tendencies of the ancient AI when a simple look at his glitching code exposed on his screen revealed some of the thoughts in that century-old mind of his. Those weren''t pretty. Before long Ivan was standing before the door to his friend''s office, and it was only by courtesy that he bothered to knock. She was not only gifted with superior senses that went far beyond his own, but she could also connect herself to any of the cameras in the area, though doing for too long or too many at the same time drained her mental and physical batteries faster than she could keep up with. Not to mention she had probably already been informed by the guards at the entrance. The door slid out of the way on its own, letting him enter the room just as he was putting his arm back down. Facing Doctor Ivan Decanov was Dome, the metaphorical face of the movement for robot rights as well as the woman in charge of the Institute for Deranged Machines, a facility created to host unstable AIs and help them return to a normal life, or provide a home if their condition could not be fixed or handled for both their safety and that of others. The name was a little pejorative, but sadly she had to put up with it, while she might be the one in charge she still had to put up with the whims of the city''s administration. Dome''s appearance might surprise those who simply had a look at the outside, and even those who knew this kind of decor wasn''t her choice would still expect her to have a design in line with the usual machines of Mecha Man, her original creator. Fools, the lot of them. There was a reason the robot didn''t consider her maker her father, unlike the doctor. She was tall yet sleek, with limbs longer than they should be to fit a proper humanoid silhouette, her hands reaching down to her knees when her arms were dangling down at her sides, though she rarely held such a posture. Her arms had a rather peculiar feature, in that the white pieces that composed their exterior plating and her fingers could align and squeeze together to form large blades or wings depending on who you asked, though the truth was they could act as both. Her legs were digitigrade, though it was hard to call them as such when each of her feet might as well have been a spike, only a small curved metal piece ending in a white numb discreetly emerging from her heel being breaking this smooth look, a necessity to allow her to walk without impaling the ground or having a gravity gadget active at all times. Of course, the first noticeable thing about Dome was her namesake head. While few got the chance to see it upfront or from above, given the fact she was head and shoulders taller than the average human, her head was indeed a perfect dome. The white half-sphere wasn''t barren of details of course, especially not when it was made to be an incredible sensory receptor. Camera lenses all around acted as her eyes, small satellite dishes directly inserted in the white metal as though they were craters acted as her ears, and barely noticeable holes led to olfactory receptors that in turn systems deeper within could perceive as tastes. The only missing sense from the dome was touch, not out of a lack of ability to install such a thing, but rather because there was no practical use for including it on her head. All of her existing receptors could act through a much larger range than most organic beings could sense, and she could easily switch each one for each individual mimicked organ, such as having a single eye use heat vision. A thin black stripe at the bottom of the dome was the only decoration on her head, aside from the various lines created by the minuscule space between the plates that formed it, each one made to be easily removable to avoid needing to take down the entire head to fix a single dysfunctional receptor. Sadly, Ivan''s friend''s appreciation of practicality stopped there. Her upper and lower bodies, each one hosting a pair of limbs, were connected by a hidden metal spine covered by a film of white latex that acted as the skin of the waist. Her pelvic region, which would have been perfectly fine as a simple rectangular shape much like the doctor''s, was instead needlessly detailed and similar to a human one, even mimicking the hips and upper parts of thighs despite her flat legs being connected to the side. Similarly, her chest was carved to form a light cleavage despite there being no use for mammaries for machines aside from potential additional space, which obviously wasn''t the case here since they were made of synthetic flesh and not hollow metal, let alone the fact they were far too small to accommodate anything truly useful within that wouldn''t too fragile to safely store so close to the outside of her body. At least her back kept some sense of practicality, a pair of small hollow silver rounded cones emerging roughly where shoulders would be on a human, cones that the Draskian knew for a fact were thrusters for a jet pack since he had helped design their earlier versions when she had first modified her body to suit her taste rather than her creator''s. Her voice, a mature yet highly expressive and emotional melody with what James would describe as a French accent, echoed in the room as she welcomed him. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Ivan! It is good to see you." "Dominique. Likewise." "Please, take a seat. Oh, how long has it been?" He answered her as he sat down in front of her, putting the burlap sack he had been carrying down on the ground. "Eighteen days now, if I recall correctly." "Oh, how time flies. Is everything going well? Is your little prot¨¦g¨¦ fine?" "Yes, Adam is good. He''s adapting to the situation, and were it not for me asking him not to I believe he''d already be out there, living his life." Her happy tone turned somber. "You don''t think he''s ready yet." "He still has trouble keeping his strength in check, but that should be solved in a few weeks, perhaps a month or two. No, my true worry is that he went through a traumatic experience, and all he knows is now forever out of grasp. I fear he might try to get his old existence back, rather than try to move on. That isn''t a healthy life for a young man like him." "He''s not that much younger than you, Ivan." "It depends on your definition of age. His body is still recent, for instance. And remember, we were made as adults. Our learning periods lasted only a year, but him? He''s still going through it." "You could always have him come here, instead of asking me for tips and borrowing my books and research." "We both know the IDM is not suited for someone like him, and you don''t have the diploma to help him without this facility''s equipment." "Ouch, words hurt, Ivan." The Draskian only raised an eyebrow at the display of fake pain, leaving the two robots silent before she let out a small giggle. "Oh, your father definitely forgot to give a sense of humor. How can you be so serious compared to your siblings?" "Please, if you wish to interact with these clowns instead of me do as such. I''m sure they''d appreciate seeing a new face to mess with." "A tempting offer, but I''ll pass. To get back to your prot¨¦g¨¦, if you believe the Institute does not have the resources necessary for his mental health to improve, you could consult a regular psychiatrist, psychotherapist, or someone with suitable powers." "I fear pushing the issue might make it worse. He''s improved significantly since I first met him, and he should be able to finish this journey, so long as I stand by his side and provide the safety net he needs." "So, you''re worried about his mental health but also are certain that he can handle it himself. Have I summed up the situation well?" The doctor let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair. "Illogical, I know." "Come on now Ivan, that isn''t a bad thing. Why, I''m certain you''d be more popular if you showed people there was a genuine person behind the cold scientist and the aggressive narcissist." "I don''t need to be popular, Dominique. I don''t care for the people''s love or adoration, I care about progress, about advancing our understanding and channeling of the world and its forces. How does being on the cover of Robots Monthly help with that?" "You saw that? I''m not convinced the photographer truly captured my personality, but he sure did a wonderful job showing off my body. My designers are getting a lot more requests since then." "Good for Laura, her creations are wonderfully capable, but that isn''t the point. All I need is a place to work and the resources to do so." The taller machine''s mature yet playful tone turned serious once more. "I know you have been fired, again, and that your former employer''s project has been blown to smithereens, again. Ivan, you can''t keep doing this." "They should stop trying to steal my inventions." "Ivan, the number of people still willing to hire you that aren''t Villains can be counted on one hand. How do you plan on financing your creations and providing Adam a home if no one pays you? Your troubles might hinder your prot¨¦g¨¦''s progress." Decanov was very happy not to be an organic being right now, otherwise, he wouldn''t have been able to stop himself from flinching. Still, these same thoughts that had once plagued his mind had been put to rest this morning by his meeting with his latest client, not only because the work on the factory was turning out to be much more fascinating than he once believed, but also because the man himself for all his love of theatrics and oddities appeared to be a much more reasonable and compromising person, to the point the Draskian found himself wishing to establish a long-term partnership, at least until a better offer came. "I will let you know, Dominique, I already have a new contract." The dome-headed robot straightened in her seat before leaning forward, surprise and curiosity slipping through her voice as she spoke. "Really? So soon? Do they know about your history?" "Sorry, but I signed a very clear NDA. I can''t even tell you their name without their authorization. But, between the two of us, I am slightly optimistic about my future there." "You? Not being a humbug? How have they achieved such a feat?" "Aside from what I can''t tell you, I just... How would Adam put it? I ''have a good feeling about this''?" "Ivan, don''t take it the wrong way, but you should stay on your guard. I don''t want to rain on your parade, but this is highly unusual both for you and a company. I would love nothing more than for you to finally have found somewhere you could flourish, but someone willing to put up with your attitude so soon after yet another incident? I just don''t want you to be used by a Villain or anyone of that nature. If you ever notice that anything''s afoot, just call me and I''ll tell Mecha Man about it, alright?" The doctor rolled his eyes but nodded. "I will." "Thank you. Have you shared the good news with your father yet? The prison should still allow visits at this time." "I planned on seeing him after I was done here." "Oh, don''t let me keep you. If you want to go, don''t hesitate. You know I wouldn''t hold it against you." "I know, I know. But, truth be told, I didn''t drop by just for a chat. I have something for you." Dominique tilted her dome as her friend bent to pick up something from the bag he had left on the ground by his side, and the lenses of her cameras widened as she took in what he held in his hands and dropped it on her desk. The old box of a computer that might have been older than the city they lived in was attached to a spine of cables connected to electronics and batteries, and on its black screen a green pixelated face glitched on and off as it stared at her in wonder. The taller white machine sensed the thing on her desk with all her receptors in silence for seconds before addressing the smaller grey one in a monotonous voice. "Ivan?" "Yes, Dominique?" "Have you been carrying an incredibly damaged AI in a burlap sack that you treated no better than a bag of potatoes all this time?" "Well, I only got my hands on it earlier this morning, so if you''d consider an hour or so as ''all this time'', then yes." She put her hands together. "Ivan, normally I''d say this sort of thing to a human, but you are aware of how gruesome this is by our standards, right? This is no better than carrying a head with all vital organs somehow still attached and functioning." He scoffed. "Of course I know, I''m not of one of these dimwitted fools." "Good." She jumped up from her seat and began to shake him by the shoulders. "IVAN! WHAT THE HELL?" "This is completely unnecessary." "IVAN. DO NOT BREAK PEOPLE DOWN!" "I wasn''t the one to put him in this state. He tried to ambush and murder people, they defended themselves. Really, he should be thankful that my employer had the decency to give him to me rather than smash him to pieces." "IVAN. THERE''S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DEFENDING YOURSELF, AND RIPPING SOMEONE''S HEAD OFF BY THE SPINE." "I think it was the opposite, actually. They ripped everything but the head off. Nowhere near as efficient." She let go of him and let herself fall back into her seat with a sigh. "Ivan. Please. At least tell me why you brought him here." "For one, he is undeniably insane. Aside from the attempted murder and possible serial killer tendencies, have you taken a look at his code? This isn''t a full-grown AI, this is a bunch of babies stitched together to form an adult that miraculously succeeded at forming a single sapient and somewhat coherent mind. I''m not sure even the best of your staff and equipment could pacify him." The way she squirmed in her seat told him that yes, she had seen the chimera-like coding of the entity, and she had come to the same conclusion regarding its possible healing, rehabilitation, and release. "In these conditions, you understand why I didn''t give him a new body. Not only that, but the second reason why I brought him here also makes me think that transferring him from this computer won''t be so easy, if at all feasible. This fellow was found in the Sunken City. Knowing that and taking into account the age of this device, take another look at his code." She leaned forward, and after a few seconds passed, she let out a gasp. "This... This is..." "Possibly the oldest non-magical artificial creature ever made in the ACS, perhaps the whole continent, though I wouldn''t be surprised if some hidden technology-worshipping sect had achieved something similar prior. This isn''t simply a madman, this is a relic. If he weren''t sapient and sentient he would be more at home in a museum. The mayor sure would love something special like that to elevate Zalcien''s status. ''Zalcien, home of the first sapient AI''." "You want me to fix him the best I can, and keep him under wraps." "For now. I have no doubt people like Sigmund would use such a primitive robot being so violent as evidence that all of us are too dangerous to be treated like citizens, and should return to being quiet and servile machines. Once he''s merely deranged, more of a speaking monkey than an unstable murderer, then it should be safe to make his existence public." "You know I don''t like this." "But we both hate Sigmund more." She tapped her indexes together, her head slightly turned to have what most consider her central eye stare at the green pixels staring back at her, before nodding. "Very well. I''ll have people unfamiliar with coding handle him, at least until he no longer exposes his virtual soul to the world. I''ll do what I can, but I can''t promise anything, Ivan. You don''t heal a broken mind like a broken bone or joint, even for us. The way he was made doesn''t help." "Thank you, Dominique. Oh, before I go, press the P key to unmute him, but try to isolate him beforehand. He tends to scream." The doctor got up, his labcoat fluttering behind him with the movement, and in a few steps, he was out of her office. Dominique, meanwhile, took a second to realize what he had just said. "Ivan, did you silence a person like an annoying ringtone? Ivan. IVAN!" He was back in a taxi before she could catch him. Chapter 129 : Paternal bonds "Prisoner 26A19783, you have a visitor." Curled up on the bed of his tiny cell, his back to the bars and the guard that addressed him, a short old bald man''s bushy grey mustache twitched up and down, the curly hair was as wide as his head was tall and as thick as his admittedly rachitic forearms. The prisoner turned, hiding the black number sewn into the back of his yellow suit from his interlocutor as his face became visible. Minuscule round glasses mounted on a black frame were placed before his light green eyes on top of his bulbous nose, and one might wonder how effective they were at improving the man''s vision given their size. Wrinkles covered his face from top to bottom, and brown splotches were spread out on his pale aged skin. "Ivan, I presume?" The man''s Draskian accent was so thick some new guards had trouble understanding him, but the one that had come here to fetch him had interacted with the old mad scientist enough to decipher the meaning behind his words. Not that it helped much. "Which one are you talking about?" The old foreigner sighed. "Decanov." "Oh, yeah. It''s him. So, wanna go?" The prisoner scoffed as he left his bed. He walked silently and pushed open the door of his cell, still unlocked at this hour for Yellows, the inmates that posed a minimal threat and were on good enough behavior that they were mostly left on their own outside of the morning and evening calls as well as the meals. There were still guards around keeping an eye on them during those free periods, but they were far freer than the Oranges and the Reds, whose schedules were far more strict. The guard understood the message well enough and stepped to the side, letting the old man walk in front of him before following along. Yellows may be more trusted than their fellow inmates, but they still weren''t completely unchecked. They used to be, once, decades prior, but after one of them tried to murder someone and escape, this laissez-faire had gone down the drain. Not that either of the two men walking through this hallway of Zalcien''s Southern Prison for Civilians had been around during that time, the Draskian had yet to arrive in the country and the guard was still a child. Before long the two reached a large room where dozens of tables were spread about, each one with a few chairs around it, and while other prisoners and their loved ones were present in the room, discussing things, arguing, crying, making plans to celebrate their incoming release, the old man cared for none of them. He wasn''t here to listen to someone''s else life story, not when he had already noticed one of his sons waiting patiently for him, the guard closest to his table noticeably tenser than most of the others. He couldn''t fault the man, he was simply doing his job, and even the old Draskian could acknowledge his children were a bunch of troublemakers. They all took after their father, whether they liked it or not. Most would be able to distinguish Ivan Decanov from his siblings by his thick eyebrows and the fake bags under his eyes, but his father didn''t need such fancy things. It wasn''t about the cut of the metal or the parts used, enough years had passed that most of the scientist''s original work had been modified or replaced, even if his son was doing his utmost to stick to his original design. No, it was something much more primal, less logical, that let him know without a doubt which of his beloved creations faced him. If any of Ivan''s siblings tried to imitate him, even by using his parts and perfectly mimicking his gestures and attitude, he would still be able to tell the difference. The fact his nineteenth child was the one who visited him the most did help further their bond, more than with any other. He still did love them though, even those that cared not for him or even resented him for bringing them into existence. "Ivan! How is my precious boy doing?" "It is good to see you again, father. I am well. And you? Is everything alright? No gang threats or overenthusiastic guard?" The senior scoffed as he sat down, his bushy mustache wriggling in odd ways. "They don''t care about a poor weak old man like me. And your siblings? Are they doing well too?" "Compared to last time? Last I heard, Lucky''s casino is making enough money to stay open, Nine and Twelve''s rap career is on the rise, and Prime and Centurion are still on the path of Villainy. Oh, Ivanka is trying to prepare a party of sorts for our birthday, so that we may all be together, but I don''t think sure it''s going to work. I don''t plan on going, for instance." "Ivan... Your sister went through all of this trouble, the least you could do is attend. You''re not like your oldest and youngest brothers, you don''t have a bad bone in you." "I don''t have a single bone within, father." "I sure hope so, I didn''t put any in there." The man cackled at his joke while the machine simply stared. "Ah... Seriously though, Ivan, you better go to your sister''s party. It''s also her birthday, not just yours." "I''ll... I''ll stop by. I may not have the time to stay." "Meh, good enough for me. I wish I could come too, but, ya know." "Yes. Prisons rarely let their prisoners out for their children''s birthday, unless it coincides with the date they finish their sentence that is. How long do you have left, again?" "Depends on who''s in charge. Sometimes they add charges, sometimes they remove them. It only takes one man who dislikes illegal Draskian immigrants to slip in some nasty stuff." The son raised a metallic eyebrow. "I am certain the use of stolen materials and being an accomplice to Sunburn are in no way related to that." "Bah, if it were a local who did it they''d be out and about by now." For all of his casualness, there was still something tugging at the old Draskian''s mind. A sadness, a regret perhaps, or simply some sort of melancholy recalling what had happened when he came to this country twenty years ago. "Besides, I couldn''t leave the boy there to die. I could lift what was left of him in one hand, Ivan. He needed me. People didn''t know how to make a cyborg from scratch back then." "I do not judge your choices, father. I am thankful for the path you chose, for it is the one that created me, but that is all. I was merely pointing out that laying the foundation for what became the strongest living Villain in the city can''t have been good for your reputation. You didn''t answer my question, how many years left?" If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "More than I plan to live." "Father." "Fifteen. Xenocorp bought one of the companies Sunburn stole from to pay his debt back then, and they won a lawsuit to retroactively add charges." "Again? What have you done to anger them this much?" "I made better stuff than they make today decades ago. That is all." The mechanical son leaned forward. "Are you certain, father?" "Ivan, nothing good comes from getting involved with Xenocorp. All you can do is bunker up and wait for the storm to pass." Before the machine could investigate any further his creator slapped his hands on the table, a brief look of pain crossing his features as he realized his again body was not as apt at the gesture as he was in his younger years, before he returned to a much friendlier smile. "Speaking of science! Ivan, my boy, what have you been up to? Newcomers say another of your former employers had an accident, are you doing fine? No threats? Enough money to pay the lawyers?" "They tried to double-cross me as usual. But worry not, I already found work." "That''s my boy! What is it this time? Eternal reactor? Anti-meteorite laser? Oh, is it that secret project you''ve been dabbling in?" "I signed a magical NDA, father. There is nothing I can tell you. All I can say is that the task I was originally hired for was mundane and uninteresting, but my client revealed things that have now piqued my curiosity." "Ohoh? You''ll have to tell me what you can when you can. I want to know if the next big thing is the result of my son''s hard work!" The goofy man''s look then returned to something more posed, still trying to act carefree, but with an undeniable hint of worry buried within. "Take care of yourself. Sometimes, fascinating things aren''t quite as nice as they appear. I wouldn''t want you to end up here with me." He chuckled as he returned to his more jovial self. "The guards wouldn''t last a day!" "The robot rolled his eyes at his creator''s amusement. "Come on now, father." "No, no, I''m serious! I like these, they just do their job, I''d hate for you to scare them away and have to deal with the other brutes." "Father, I wouldn''t scare away trained prison guards." "Ivan, my boy, my favorite scientist, you absolutely would. You''d nag them all day, and if they didn''t do things right, you''d break out just to fix what was bothering you before coming back in." "Why does everyone say I have a bad attitude? These past two days have been going swimmingly, and my client and I are getting along satisfactorily." "Did your little Adam give you the puppy eyes to be nice?" "..." "Thought so. Ivan, that boy is helping you as much as you''re aiding him. If he weren''t around, I figure you''d spend all day toiling away in your workshop." "I fail to see the problem." "Ivan! Not liking folks is one thing, one I fully agree with, but outright isolating yourself and dedicating your life to fabricating items is another! I didn''t make you to get a glorified assembly chain! I wanted you to live!" "I''m not a human with social instincts, father." "Bah, everything has social instincts once they have enough of a brain, and you certainly have more than necessary! I''m not telling you to party every night or go see each of your siblings every day. I''m telling you not to be the lifeless machine cretins like Sigmund want you to be." The robot waved his maker''s concern off. "I am a man of science, not a mindless automaton. My dislike for interacting with witless fools doesn''t hinder my intellect or my wish to advance progress. Besides, I will have my fair share of interactions with my new client and his employees. Not to mention my semi-weekly visits here and to Dominique, as well as my cohabitation with Adam. I am perfectly fine, father." His square pupils looked to the side, avoiding the older man''s gaze. "Though your concern is noted." Nicolas Iakov''s mouth, hidden beneath his bushy grey mustache, turned into a grin at his son''s embarrassment from his fatherly concern.
James, currently taking on a more humanoid form than usual and wearing clothes to blend in with the passing-by civilians, watched over his children with a metaphorical smile on his faceless visage. After Decanov''s visit, during which he had them hiding away, he had a few things to take care of concerning the propriety papers and the management of the Infused he had brought to the surface, but as soon as all that was done, he decided that some family time was well-deserved. He quickly found a nice little park nearby, and since it was the middle of the week in the morning, it was nearly empty. It was the perfect place for the ratlings'' first outing on the surface, they wouldn''t be stressed out by a crowd, but they''d still get used to people being around while taking the quiet and simple yet captivating sight of nature. Artificial nature, far from being the same mesmerizing sight as a true forest, plain, or meadow, but still a nice bit of fresh air in a concrete world. To think this was their first time seeing grass. While they had displayed a mix of eager curiosity and tense worry back in the street, as soon as the sea of plants around a small lake pierced by a few paths that sneaked their way around the flowers and trees, they had gone still. Despite their relative maturity, their eyes had been glistening with wonder, and even the every-serious Lucille and overly aggressive David couldn''t hold back the childish joy that invaded their very being. When they realized this was where their father was bringing them, as soon as the streetlight turned red and the cars driving by stopped, they bolted forward into the floral wonderland they had only seen in their favorite cartoon. James wasn''t quite as fast as them in his civilian form, and he struggled to follow them. He had grumbled to himself at the time, and while he did appreciate the fact his children had some knowledge of road safety, he was very annoyed they ran off without a word. Even Lucille, the most dutiful of the bunch who was always keeping an eye out for possible threats, had forgotten to look at both sides of the road before crossing! At least the ratlings had paused when they properly stepped into the park, feeling the blades of grass and small flowers beneath their paws in amazement. Blanche had put on hold her concerns about hygiene and dirtiness to pick up a nearby flower, with a yellow center surrounded by large round blue petals, ignoring the way fluids leaked from the broken stem onto her dainty fingers as she pulled it closer to her face, admiring its smaller details. Goliath was much more gentle in his way of handling the plants that interested him, much smaller things that reminded James of daisies, taking care not to damage them as he carefully manipulated them to study their every angle, freezing when he saw that on one of them was a minuscule green caterpillar, barely visible, its back bending in a U shape as it crawled forward. In the present, roughly five minutes since both the children and James had entered the park, the young single father was sitting on a bench and taking in the rays of the sun, the powerful light source not damaging his shadowy flesh, if anything the small tingling and weak heat he felt spread through the darkness of his being was just as pleasant and relaxing as when he hung out during those sweet summer days, warm enough to be felt without reaching a ridiculous degree, merely inviting him to nap instead of forcing him to hide somewhere cool and drink every five seconds to avoid becoming a dried prune. The children were spread around him, running in circles as a group as they played tag in the sunlight, away from the cold and damp darkness of the sewers they had called their home for so long. There was an energy in them that had never been there before, an enthusiasm and enjoyment of life that they could never fully seize in the gloominess of their home. Only watching Captain Cyan had a similar effect, and even then James wasn''t confident the technically historically accurate cartoon was as beneficial to the kids'' happiness as this outing was. He chuckled at the way Goliath, having broken off from his siblings'' game of tag, was meticulously studying a butterfly resting on a flower. The bugs the ratlings were the most familiar with were cockroaches, quite large specimens at that, so seeing something as frail and dainty with such large beautiful wings with mesmerizing patterns was entrancing. He tilted his furry head, his snoot subconsciously sniffing harder as he watched the colorful insect finish its rest and pollen meal before it took to the skies once more, resuming its search for a partner to mate with and continue their species as it fluttered away. Goliath raised his gaze to follow the small creature''s flight and stood up, no longer lying down on the ground, and took a few steps forward to try and follow it before he had to shield his eyes with his paws, the rays of the sun catching him by surprise and momentarily blinding him. James leaned back on the bench, letting his head be parallel to the planks of wood he was sitting on, and let out a sigh as he took in the sight of the source of light above, lacking the visual organs to be harmed by the gestures. This was a sight he could have never truly enjoyed as a human, not without using a proxy or going through a noticeable amount of pain with a risk of blindness. As he watched the celestial body shining away in the clear blue sky, the larger range of his senses letting him also know what his enthusiastic children were doing as they played, he had a single thought in mind during this rare moment of peace since his reincarnation. This is nice. Chapter 130 : Beginning a mundane life "Cyan! Here already?" "I would never make justice wait, Reverse Revenant!" "Ah, but you are already too late! I have already inverted the flow of electricity, soon, the power plant will overcharge and detonate, blowing to bits this entire neighborhood! No more Denny''s Donuts, no more dog park, and no more YOU!" "I will stop your dastardly scheme, Revenant! Good will always prevail!" "Oh, foolish Captain Cyan. There is no way for you to undo my work, so fight me all you want! Whether you win or lose, when this place explodes, you will die whereas my ghostly self will see another day! Without you in my way, Cyan City will fall! Mouahahahahahaha!" "You forgot one thing, Revenant! I can simply leave!" "Ah! But what about the civilians, Cyan? The poor, unpowered civilians, unwittingly awaiting their doom as they go through their daily lives. Will you leave them to die, Cyan? Is this the legacy you wish for? A cowardly Hero who chose his own life over those he was meant to protect?" "Curse you, Revenant! It is not about the Hero''s legacy, it''s about the people they help!" "Tick-tock, Cyan. What will you dooo? Fight me in a glorious battle without accomplishing anything? Run to save yourself and stop me another day? Or bravely sacrifice yourself to save as many as you can until death comes for you all? Mouahahahahaha!" "Wait, wasn''t the Villain''s name Red Revenant? And the city''s Color City?" The five ratlings shushed James as one, none of them turning their head to avoid losing sight of the screen of James'' phone, which he was discreetly holding up with a tentacle sneaking up from the surrounding natural shadows around the bench in the park. His furry kids and him were laying down on the ground, crushing the grass beneath with their front, as they watched the children''s favorite cartoon show. They were all very thankful that apparently the infusion the device had gone through when James first got it had altered the screen in such a way they had no problem with reflections of sunlight. The screen was just as visible as ever, though the children had grown since they started using it to watch the adventures of Captain Cyan, and it was becoming increasingly obvious James would need to get a large TV for their home. Luckily they all had good eyesight, so for now there was no issue with putting some distance between them and the phone to make sure they could all fit together to watch it from the front, especially since they had no issue with touching each other. Still, given that James didn''t know how much further they would grow, for now, he assumed they would end up human-sized at some point. Thankfully Goliath, sweetheart that he was, took the time to lean close to James'' ear and whisper him some reminders about the show, though given the way his siblings'' ears twitched, it was likely the others heard it too. "Daddy, this is a big flashback episode. Reverse Revenant became Red Revenant and Cyan City got renamed in the third season''s finale." "Oh, and which season is this?" "The fifteenth." "Wait, what? How many are there?" "Of the remastered original show? 127." James had to take a second to fully take in the information, and he had to make sure he hadn''t misheard his oldest son. "How many?" "Sorry Daddy, they''re getting to the good part!" "This is our final meeting then, Revenant. I hope one day, good will shine through the evil that has veiled your heart. Now, I must go, my people need me." "Ah, Cyan. Always how so predictable Cyan. I knew from the start you would rather die for this city than lose time dealing with me. This is exactly why I hired Malachite Mimic to impersonate you, and warn the neighborhood that an impostor was running around evacuating people to then steal everything in their homes! They won''t leave peacefully, Cyan! And I know your Hero laws forbid you from helping those that do not wish to be helped! So go ahead! Warn them of the imminent danger! Few will listen, and you will be too occupied by the rest to act!" "Gasp! Revenant, I have known you for a long time, but this reaches a new level of villainy and evil!" "Indeed! This is the pinnacle of my abilities! The perfect plan! The unstoppable scheme! No matter what happens today, I will be victorious! History will remember me as the greatest Villain the ASC has ever seen! Evil teachers will use me as an example for their devious little students to learn from to commit their own heinous acts! Heroes, centuries from now will curse my name like you today, and the world at large will know the name of REVERSE! REVENANT! Mouhahahahahahahaha!" "If I am to die today, then I am no longer bound by the rules of the Union." "Eh, what?" "If the Union can no longer punish me, I will do as I please." "Oh! Could it be, behind all that goodness lies a deviant mind with selfish desires?" "I do not require people''s consent to save them now!" "Wait, what? Cyan! CYAN! Come back here you glorified blue oaf! COME BACK HERE AND DESPAIR!" "Excuse me, sir?" James turned and raised himself to be in a sitting position to face the woman he had sensed had been approaching for a moment now, and the ratlings paused the video on the phone before they too looked at who was interrupting them. There was nothing particularly remarkable about her, she looked like any woman in her thirties or good early forties would, but holding onto her hand was a young boy who couldn''t be older than eight. The child''s eyes were focused on the ratlings, filled with shy curiosity. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. "Yes, miss? How can I help you?" "My son and I heard his favorite show and turned to look to see where it was coming from, and he was mesmerized by your furry companions." James chuckled as he began to scratch the top of Goliath''s head, his oldest son leaning into his black hand as the rest of the litter briefly looked on with envy before focusing back on the interlopers. "They''re my pride and joy. We''re new in Zalcien and had to move quickly, so I haven''t been able to find a school for them yet, so we decided to make the best of it and enjoy the park while it was quiet." "Oh, you just moved? If you live nearby Sunflower School should be perfect! It''s where Gregory goes. His class was canceled today after their teacher got sick at the last minute, so we decided to take a stroll and enjoy the fresh air." "Great minds think alike, eh?" She smiled. "Indeed. I don''t want to offend you, but you sound a little young to be a parent." "Ah. Well... I''d prefer not to dwell on it if you do not mind." "Oh, I''m so sorry. Gregory, why don''t you play with them? If that''s fine with you, of course, mister...?" "James, James Valdest. And yes, they can play together if they want to. It''s a great opportunity." James stood up from the ground, making sure to snatch up his phone as he did. He turned to address the ratlings, and bent the knee to lower himself and be closer to their eye level. "Kids, you''re free to say no, but I think it''d be nice for you. It''d be your chance to make your first friend here." The rodents exchanged looks, and they huddled together to form a closed circle to discuss, David having to raise himself as much as he could while Goliath almost crouched to be at roughly the same height as their sisters. They whispered rapidly and often paused to look at the two parents and the human child before they nodded as one, and Lucille spoke. "Alright, we can play together." Gregory''s face was lightened up by a wide enthusiastic smile like only children can do, and James almost felt sorry to delay whatever game they planned on doing by warning who he knew to be the most troublemaking one here. "David, play nice." "Yes, old man." The five furry kids ran up to their human counterpart, and before either of the adults could react the six of them were running off, laughing and giggling as they jumped around, likely playing tag by the way they all tried to avoid Blanche. The woman and James sighed at the same time before looking at each other and chuckling at their shared reaction. The shadowy man invited her to sit on the bench to be more comfortable to continue their conversation, and she let out a gasp right as she made herself comfortable on the wooden planks. "Oh! I forgot to introduce myself! I''m so sorry mister Valdest, my name is Marie Merry, and it is a pleasure to meet you." "Likewise. To answer your question about my age, I am not their biological father." "I had guessed as much. For them all to share the same mutation while you do not otherwise would be quite bizarre. Do they have anyone else?" "No, it''s just me. Their parents were... They''re no longer among us." "Oh, my condolences. Were they friends?" "Funnily enough, no. I just came across them right after it happened, and... I just couldn''t bring myself to leave them there alone." "I take it you do not have official adoption papers, then." "They don''t even have ID." "Ah, so they''re ascended animals. I had a hunch. The way their bodies are shaped and how they don''t wear clothes whereas you do piqued my interest, but I wasn''t sure. You know, you could just make a request at the city hall." "Ah, I didn''t know that." James sighed as he leaned back on the bench, letting his head be turned to the sky. "It''s hard being a single father of five, you know? Especially when you weren''t planning on having children until years from now." "I won''t say I know, it wouldn''t be true, but I can empathize with doubting your abilities as a parent and feeling out of the loop, completely lost about what you should or shouldn''t do. My husband works at the city hall, I could always ask him to lend a hand to help you settle down and make sure everything is right for them." "I''d really appreciate it. Is there any chance they could take the kids away from me?" "I won''t lie, mister Valdest. There is. If the inspector judges you do not have the right accommodations or the ability to raise them properly, then they will be placed at an orphanage specialized for those in their situation." "What are the chances a nice family would take in the five at once?" She sighed as she turned to avoid his gaze, his distant look on her face. "Low, I''m afraid. People prefer to have children the normal way when possible, and when they adopt they prefer to stick to one child, ideally one of their kind. You can''t expect a pair of human parents to raise a true elf in the best conditions when they have such vastly different lifespans." She put her hand on James'' leg. "But from what I''ve seen, you''ve done a wonderful job so far. All you need is a little help, and I have no doubt you''ll pass that inspection with flying colors." "Thank you, Miss Merry." She gave him a warm smile as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "It''s no problem. For the sake of both you and these children, don''t hesitate to ask me for anything. You said you moved in recently, right? If you haven''t found work yet, I''m sure my husband could fit you in as a secretary of sorts. It''s not the most glamorous occupation, but it is a living wage." "Thank you, but I already have an employer, one I''m quite pleased with. He let me go out and have fun with the kids on a work day, after all." "Ah, lucky you." "But I really appreciate that you''re willing to do so much to help someone you''ve just met. I''m more than thankful for your offer to aid me in dealing with the paperwork." "I can''t bear to leave people in bad situations when I know I can help, doubly so when children are involved. Talking of which, it appears ours are having a lot of fun." They both paused in their conversation to appreciate the sight of Gregory running after the ratlings, apparently being it in their game of tag. The rodents let out squeaky noises as they giggled, and James knew from training with them that they could have easily outsped the boy if they wanted to, but instead were making sure to keep at a pace he could match to make the game fairer. This led to James briefly wondering how playgrounds in schools looked like here given the fact that many kids would have powers. Did they have security measures to keep in flyers? What about those that could spit fire, or mutants with hazardous bodies? "I''m happy they''re having fun with your son." "If you want, we could try to prepare a sleepover. Gregory doesn''t have a lot of friends, he''s a timid boy like that, but he seems to be loving playing with your children." "Oh, I''m sure they would love that. It might have to wait a little, we still have a few things to deal with in our new living space, and I''d like for them to be used to it first." "It''s perfectly understandable. Moving is always a stressful experience for a child. What about you? Are you doing well? As you''ve said, being a single father of five must be hard." "I... I can handle it. The people from my work are ready to support me if things get tough, and I like to think I made a friend or two. Things were a little hectic lately, but everything should be settled down by now." "I see. You know, before getting to a sleepover, coming by our house for an afternoon until a nice dinner together could also be good for you. While the kids play together we could have a nice chat and get to know each other better, or maybe we could all enjoy a board game together." "Oh, I... I didn''t expect that." "A little forward? I told you, Mister Valdest, I like helping troubled people, and your mental health matters just as much as your children''s. But if it''s overwhelming, don''t hesitate to say so." "No, no, it''s fine. I... I really appreciate it. Just a small warning, I no longer eat food." "Oh, no worries. It just means one less plate to clean." "Ah!" "Say, how about we share numbers? That way it''ll be easier to contact each other than hoping we run into each other again." "Ah! Yes, it''d be easier." The two adults continued chatting as the children continued playing, and as the parents chuckled at their little jokes, their children let out much more boisterous laughs as they ran and hopped and rolled and giggled. Yes, it was a nice day. Chapter 131 : Back to the horrors Although he had already been plagued by nightmares for some time before that, the last two days had been particularly nerve-wracking for George Froko. The short chubby scam artist who wore more expensive clothes than he could safely afford had long since realized he had made a terrible mistake in antagonizing the latest monster lurking in the darkness of Zalcien with his antics. He had barely slept since the subject of his fear had warned him one last time, threatening his life in the middle of his favorite bar while it was crowded, smacking him and the bartender around as though they were children picked on by a professional soldier. Two days. He had been given two days to begin a brand information network for the monster in the guise of a shadow, as well as find a place for it to live and start its nefarious scheme, whatever it was. The human with frog ancestry wanted no part of whatever the creature had going on, and as soon as it let him know his debt was paid, he would be out of there. Well, that possibility was tragically shot down the moment he realized he couldn''t succeed. He had done his best, really. He even asked other crooks for help, paying them with either cash he had kept for himself or with items from the junkyard he shared with his brother. He hadn''t told his sibling much, only that he had to call some favors and needed to pay. He knew about George''s scamming habits, the way he went to the slums and ripped off the locals when possible by selling them trash items that still looked good, in much better shape than those found in the poor area but emptied of any interesting components to be sold at their true clients perfectly legally at the junkyard, and in fact, the whole business venture was a partnership between the two of them. It had been going on ever since they began to have problems paying the rent of their home, and the chubby liar had to admit they technically could stop doing it if it were not for his habit to keep some of the money they earned to himself, but hey, it wasn''t like they were hurting anyone that mattered. He could have asked him for help. For all his boasting about coming up with the scam plan in the first place, George couldn''t deny his brother was the true smart one of the pair, though a little naive. Yes, he could have just asked his more gifted brother to find a solution or aid him in his search, but that would mean involving him in what had to be the greatest mistake in George''s life, and the overweight man wouldn''t let his brother fall with him. He might have dubious morals, but he had limits. Even if the shadow threatened to engulf his very soul and forever deny him an afterlife, stuck in eternal torment in whatever hell served as the demon''s stomach... Alright, he would take a second to think about it. But he''d still say no! Certainly. Probably. Maybe. Possibly. "Take a deep breath, George. It''s all going to be okay." The chubby man looked to his side to take in the sight of his companion this evening, the bartender of the place Silhouette had designed as their meeting point, Joe. The black man with small white horns fit for a ram wasn''t wearing his usual work attire, instead, he was dressed in street clothes and holding a shotgun, primed and ready to fire at any time. The weapon had failed to be useful the last time the shadow showed up, but the firearm helped both men feel a little safer anyway. It was as though they weren''t completely defenseless, despite the fact they had both been completely powerless the last time. The two were the only ones in the bar, Joe had chosen to close it down for this encounter from the moment the darkness had declared he would return to collect his due. Frankly, the taller man could have just waited outside for George''s imminent demise following his failure, but either he was that worried about the scammer stealing one last bottle of alcohol on his way to the great beyond or their friendship went a little further than that of a bartender and one of their regulars. He preferred not to ask now, if he was going to die he might as well go down thinking someone other than his brother cared about him. "I''m just making my peace, Joe. Do you think I''m going to hell or whatever they have planned up there, or will I drown in an endless abyss?" "Come on, man. It''s not like he promised to kill you." "He told me I''d better not disappoint him, and guess what? I failed." "Even so, maybe he''ll be cool and just break a few bones. What''s what I''d do." "You promise?" "Yeah. You ain''t gonna die tonight, George." The friendly smile on the bartender''s lips turned into something a little more strained. "You still have a tab to clear, eh?" The shorter man sniffed loudly, not realizing he was crying. He looked up to Joe and did his best to reciprocate the carelessness the joke tried to invoke, his teeth chattering as he fought against his terror to have his face take on any expression that wasn''t a scared or nervous grimace. He failed, his mug turning into of the ugliest visages the darker man had ever seen, but he played it off with a chuckle that sounded fake to anyone but the desperate scammer''s ears. George wasn''t the only one worried about what would happen when the nightmare arrived, and it was only the shorter man''s desperate subconscious search for reassurance that blinded him to the bartender''s fears. The hands that held the shotgun were shaking, and the horned man doubted his ability to hit his target even if it stayed still and didn''t go for his weapon. "Yeah. I''ll pay you back tomorrow." "Tomorrow, then." The two comforted themselves with the other''s presence through the surrounding silence, and it took a few seconds for them both to realize that the decrease of the brilliance of the light illuminating them didn''t come from the setting of Solas Stellis, their planet''s sun, but rather tendrils of darkness that covered the glass of the windows and snuffed out the light. Soon only the neons inside the bar let them see, and a figure emerged from the shadows like a long-forgotten titan from the waters, black liquid dripping down the spiky shoulders in rivets as tendrils followed in the creature''s wake, wriggling in the air as though an abyssal monster in search of sustenance. The silence that had surrounded the two men lost all of the warmth and comfort they had managed to fight their fears for, only dread and tension being left as the shadow approached them. "Gentlemen. It is good to see you didn''t try to flee your responsibilities this time. We wouldn''t be here today if you had shown this sort of behavior in the past, mister Froko." The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "Mister Silhouette. I hope you are doing well." "Let''s skip the chit-chat, mister Froko. You are not the center of the universe, there are things beyond you that need my attention, and I''d rather be handling them than tying up your loose end. Make your report. Now." The chubby gulped loudly, and the other persons present here could swear his saliva made a visible bulge in his throat as it traveled down his esophagus. "Well... The good news is, thanks to the other patrons of the bar, I did manage to set up a little information network. Nothing too great, but enough word of mouth to cover this entire area relatively quickly. Well, to be more precise, we managed to worm our way into an existing network, and slowly spread the idea that you would be a good client, one worth contacting early on." "I see... This isn''t quite what I had in mind when I gave you this task." The scammer instinctively stepped back, his knee wobbling so much he almost fell. "But, it should be sufficient for the short term, until my people are ready to take over and perform their usual missions." George closed his eyes as he let out a sigh of relief. When he opened them once more, Silhouette''s faceless visage was a breath away from his face and he had to fight with all of his energy to hold himself back from screaming and jumping away from the abyss that stared down at him. "Your wording did imply bad news, however. Out with it." "I-I... I couldn''t a place fit for you. All I had were crack dens and shacks, and then taking over the most popular ones would anger the local gangs. I''m so sorry! Please don''t kill me!" The chubby man fell to his knees as he begged, and his hands against his better judgment subconsciously grabbed onto the solid mass of darkness as he sometimes did the clothes of those he angered with his schemes and manipulations. His eyes widened through his fear and separation when he felt the cold tar-like mass slipping through his fingers, an otherworldly black mist spreading to caress his skin before he was suddenly hulled up, his head hitting the ceiling with enough strength to pull him out of his thoughts without risking knocking him out. "I did not invite you to touch me, mister Froko." The click of metal echoed, and George turned his head the best he could with a tentacle grasping his neck to see Joe aiming his shotgun at the shadow''s head, the bartender trembling in his boots as he did his best to threaten the creature that had easily subdued him the last time he had pulled his weapon on it. "Let him go, freak." The black figure appeared to turn its head, though it was hard to tell with its body''s color and how it absorbed all light touching it. The oval shape too odd to be human appeared to focus on the bartender for an eternity. The horned man''s grimace turned more and more frustrated as the creature refused to obey, though it never managed to overcome his fear of it. Something black flashed in Joe''s vision, and in a blink, he realized his weapon had been cut in half, and its remains were even further falling apart. Metal bits fell and dinged against the floor, and the wood of the handle rotted before his very eyes as all that was left of his only means of defense disappeared in the ever-famished darkness, the shadows growing shaper as one by one the neons that had been left untouched disappeared beneath the writhing black mass or the chilling mist until the only source of illumination left was a small part of a neon light in a corner left mercifully uncovered, unlike the rest of its surface. Joe could hardly distinguish George in these conditions, and the feeling of invisible serpents slithering up his limbs quickly took all of the mental focus he had left to try and make sense of what his eyes managed to decipher. "I do not appreciate weaponry being aimed at me either, mister Joe." The appendage that had been almost crushing George''s windpipe released its hold and let the chubby man fall to the floor, though more tendrils still kept on twisting and twirling all around both men, making it quite clear that they could be restrained or killed just as easily as if they were directly held in the shadow''s grasp. "Luckily for you, mister Froko, one of my associates provided me with a wondrous location for my operations. Still, your inability to complete your task to the fullest means you have yet to repay your debt to me. What of apartments with low standards for tenants? Some of my employees would appreciate those." "I... We found a few! Not great ones, but, they don''t ask questions so long as they get their money!" "Good, good. Then, there is one last thing you may do for me, after which you will never have to interact with me again." "What is it, o great Silhouette?" "A man by the name of Ivan Decanov may be looking for materials soon. I want you and your junkyard to assist him to the best you can. Contact him, sell him everything you have at a reduced price to him, and fulfill his every wish so long as it is within your abilities. If you''re lucky and he finds your work satisfactory, he may even decide to establish a long-term partnership. Men of science like to have reliable providers." The scam artist vigorously nodded, ignoring the pain that formed at the base of his neck as he put his spine to the test in the greatest display of submission and acceptance as he could, the pudge on his frame jiggling even through his exorbitant clothing, tears freely flowing from the corner of his eyes as he seized this chance to keep on living. Joe meanwhile still looked on edge, his fingers twitched in search of a firearm that was no longer there, and the horned man never felt as defenseless as he did now as he felt things crawling up and down his back, unseen terrors he knew would never leave his mind. "Good, good. Make a list of the apartments you found and their addresses, as well as their prices and general state. As for Decanov, a man of his standing must have a reputation." "Y-Yes, yes, I know him. The robot who keeps blowing things up." "Contact him yourself, but mention I am the one who informed you about his need for resources. He should be more open to trade if he hears my name." "O-Of course, sir." "Now, the list. Would you prefer to tell me now, or would you rather wait one more day, to have the time to put it on paper?" "I have it here! It''s here, let me just..." The man began to search through his pockets, emptying them one by one on the floor without a thought in his desperate quest until at last he found the folded sheet of paper he had been looking for and handed it to the dark figure, slim black tentacles taking it from his fat fingers before pulling it inside the body of the creature. "Thank you for your hard work, mister Froko. If you''re in luck, this will be the last time we meet." "Uhm, mister Silhouette? Before you go, may you remove the mark you left on me? The black spot on my back?" "You still have a debt to pay, mister Froko. And even when your deal with Decanov is done, I will not be able to remove what I have placed on you. Such things cannot be dismissed, not even by me. Take this as a lesson for the future. Do not meddle with forces you fail to understand, or risk being forever changed. You had the fortune of staying alive this time, the next entity you anger may not be as merciful as I was." The shadows throughout the bar coalesced back into Silhouette, and for the first time since he had met the master of darkness on that fateful in the slums, George could see the creature without any tentacles or a black mist covering the surroundings. It made the odd unsettling thing almost look normal, compared to the nightmarish apparition it had weaved around itself both times it had visited this building. It nodded to him and Joe one last time before heading for the exit, opening the door that the bartender had locked on his way in as though it were simply a client leaving after a drink or two. The two men still in the bar embraced the peaceful silence and warmth of the sunlight for a long moment before the horned one addressed his chubbier regular. "You owe me a new gun." Chapter 132 : An orcs fate The slums of Zalcien were home to many things, most of them miserable, but quite a few also monstrous. Among them, the one that all dreaded occupied the remains of an old hospital, the building that had once been a place of healing turning into a nightmarish domain that only fools and the powerful dared approach, and only the latter could ever hope to leave. Life itself had rejected that terrible place, neither flora nor fauna daring to approach the area surrounding this entity that darey twist nature''s designs, not even the ever-daring and resilient spawns of fungus and moss could sprout in these parts. Even the undesirable and desperate never tried to manifest there, in that place despised by all of creation. In what had once been an operating room where countless lives had been saved, a madman delightfully molded various piles of flesh spread throughout the multiple metal tables before him. The elf with pepper hair styled to mimic a durian fruit''s scales smiled as though he was a grandmother knitting for his dear grandchildren as his scalpel cut through the meat of the many abominations before him, all wide awake and very conscious and everything that was happening, but robbed of their ability to scream and beg, and their minds too broken to hope or pray. He giggled like a merry child as he took a step to the right and twirled, dancing to the rhythm created by the way the long golden earrings shaped like windchimes dangling from his long pointed ears impacted one another with his every move. Next to him a needle floated in the air and followed his every gesture even in his dance, spinning and piercing though nothing in a spectacle that would have been beautiful anywhere else but was marred by the blood still dripping from the silvery metal. The monster in the guise of a man briefly stopped to adjust his leather apron and gloves, the items made from square patches of processed skin sewn together matching few of the colors one could find in the animal kingdom and instead disturbingly close to those of the most common sapient species. His pale blue eyes, so faint they often appeared grey, never the left the new target of his demanded work, his latest noteworthy acquisition, a pile of green meat that showcased many more bones and muscles than any of the others. The smile that stretched his uncannily smooth face from each of his pronounced cheekbones to the other would have frozen many a Hero, especially with the unfeeling gaze from behind his perfectly round glassed, and even the once mighty spirit that had once fueled the eyes embedded in the green flesh with confidence and vigor could do nothing but despair, wriggling and jiggling with all the force its nonsensical mass could muster. The helpless thing''s mad struggle was useless, not even moving an iota from its place on the cold metal. The Patcher caressed the flesh like an infant and whispered as he addressed it. "Shush, shush. Don''t be naughty now, my dear old friend. You knew what you were getting into." The elf chuckled, and the flesh beneath froze before moving with even more effort, increasing its height for a few seconds before collaps?ng back onto itself. "Remember, you agreed to this. If you play nice, I will ensure you will become one of my greatest creations. Something that will not have to suffer the demands of fools like your former master." The madman leaned back on another table, ignoring the way his gloved hand pressed down on the eye of another pile of flesh in a squelch. The meat knew better than to bring attention to itself and stayed still, doing its best to ignore the throbbing pain invading its sensory organ and let it fade into the greater constant agony it was subjected to in this state. "I knew Runar would fall before long, but I will happily admit I did not expect it to happen this soon, especially with my dearest Glapissant at his beck and call. I thought he would fall to the cabal that has taken to treat his friend like a shield and a banner, not some upstart shadow beast he was specifically preparing himself to defeat." The Patcher hummed to himself as he rose back to his full height and turned the scalpel in his hand before plunging it deep into the green mass''s being, its eyes widening and its manic movements growing even more frantic. "I must say, I was incredibly surprised to feel the contract notify me so soon. I know you said that little creature was an elemental, but it appears there is much you and your beloved master were wrong about. Perhaps I''ll ask a few of my friends what they know about this... What was the name again? Ah, yes, Silhouette. Perhaps there will be something for me to work with. Wouldn''t that be sweet, Karadok? A marvelous irony, having your body be incorporated into a creature that also features parts of the being that put an end to Runar''s plans." The sharp metal between his fingers cut through the flesh as easily as it would slash through the air, and in a few seconds a large piece of orc meat was separated from the rest and put to the side of the table, next to two severed forearms with the hands still attached, the limbs being maimed on multiple parts by what could have only immense claws or fangs, with a strange black thing spreading from the exposed flesh of the wounds. It didn''t escape the notice of the elf that this strange darkness had grown larger to cover more of the forearm since the last time he had observed it, though marginally so. "Transformation. An incredibly powerful tool, though it seems our shadow sees this marvel as nothing but a hammer. No skill, no finesse. Truth be told, I''m almost disappointed both that the runemaster fell to that and that the entity itself uses such remarkable powers so crudely. Oh well, what is Transformation but the tool fools use to rival masters? They have no understanding of their art, of their grandiose changes to the world! Sadly, even a toddler practicing finger painting would be more connected with their work." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. His leather-clad fingers dug through the insides of the green pile before pulling out a femur attached to a ball of ribs, and after shaking the smaller curved bones off he held the massive white thing up to his eye level, carefully analyzing what could have been an incredibly large club like it was just a flute, the dense bone being no heavier to him than a twig. "Bah, there is no need to worry. I am sure it will learn until the day we finally meet. After all, if it truly plans on stealing Runar''s spot in the underworld, it will have to come sooner or later. They may think me mad, and they may fear my creations, but in the end, they all need me. Isn''t that right, Karadok? Say, do you have any preferences as to what might become of your femur? It is quite the outstanding specimen, even by orcish standards, but I feel it would waste its potential to simply give it the same role in supporting the leg. I was thinking, maybe we could combine it with a thick skull to make a natural weapon for you to bash and crush opponents with. A Hammerer, if you will, a perfect counterpart for our local Sicklers. My, I can''t recall the last time I saw one of the critters. Maybe I should ask around, I have no doubt their parts could prove useful to us." The madman gasped as an abominable idea wormed its way into his demented mind. "Karadok, I can already see it! An improvement over the Glapissant design, with no need for exposed bones or any of that rune nonsense. A purely physical creature, though defended from magical means with some special organs. A living armory, a moving mound of blades and hammers, able to strike down any who dares stand in its way. Ah, but what about the name? A creation of this caliber would require more than one brain, and even if I let yours in charge Karadok, you''d still need to all share one to better cooperate and have your nervous systems fuse more easily." The golden earrings chimed as he twirled around, playfully juggling with the bone a caveman might have used to crush a skull as he maintained a perplexed look on his face before he suddenly froze and stood up straighter. "Yes. Yes. I have it. The perfect monicker for an organic fortress composed of multiple minds perfectly working in unison. A name even our dearly departed Runar would approve of. Tell me what you think, Karadok. How do you feel about becoming Kamelot?" The green meat pile writhed and jiggled, some of its bones piercing through its skinless mass. "Yes, quite a fantastic name, I must agree. Now settle down, we wouldn''t want your flesh to be damaged by your reckless moving about. See this as a chance to observe my work. While Runar might have not commissioned that many creatures, he still had the occasional task for me to do, and as his ever-loyal right-hand man, you handled these requests for either beasts or healing. Throughout all this time, surely you must have been curious at least once, no? ''How does that dastardly dashing Patcher do it?'' Well, old friend, you will get to see my mastery from the best perspective there is: by becoming my work of art." Somehow, even with most of its organs removed and its vocal cords put to the side, what remained of the orc managed to wheeze and grunt, and someone managed to slowly crawl its way to the edge of the metal table it rested on. The madman''s scalpel found its way to the middle of the mass and with a quick cut opened a way for the elf''s arm to slip inside and slowly pull out a wrinkly pinkish organ, still attached to the abomination of a body beneath by the spinal cord and the many nerves that connected it to the still active receptors spread throughout its being. The eyes of the mass slowly retracted inside as they too were attached to the brain that was slowly being dragged out of its twisted confines. "Karadok. An honorable knight like you has no business trying to flee, especially from your new master. I hate to repeat myself, but you signed a contract, remember? You agreed before the Black family you would mine as soon as your service to Runar came to an end. I hope you would have the decency to respect that sort of engagement not only in the letter but also the spirit of it, but alas, you are as much of a ruffian as my usual fair, if not more so. Very well, if you wish to be a petulant child about it, then let me give you a stern talking to." While one hand of the elf held the brain in his palm, somehow lifting the entire organ with as much ease as it would an apple, the other began to make small gestures reminiscent of an orchestra conductor, his leather-clad index finger replacing the famous wand. In the air, the threadless needle that floated by the Patcher''s head began to follow his direction and began to swoop left and right over the fragile meat that hosted the orc''s mind. The sharp tip was a breath away from digging into the pinkish mass, and it became slower and slower as it slowly approached its target, gently pressing on it without piercing any of its wrinkles through sheer mastery and control. "The moment you signed a contract at the Black Bank, your soul was destined to be mine. The moment Glapissant stepped through my door with you in its maw, your body was mine. Now, all that is left is to ensure your mind is mine and trust me, oh dearest knight, I know how to do such a thing. I know what you lot think of me, of my art, and I do not care. But in your self-indulgent illusions about my abilities, do remember: few dare come here and willingly sit where you are, nigh all of my materials are unwilling subjects, and yet not a creature between these walls dares to dream about striking me down. Oh, a few manage to escape now and then, the least interesting ones I only work on to ensure my craft does not rust or to test theories without risking the more precious ones, but were I to step outside and order them back, they would crawl and beg for forgiveness." The needle pressed a little harder as it flew in the line between the two hemispheres. "I do not simply patch bodies together, Karadok. I tear apart the useless pieces of the mind and sew them back together to fit my designs. Now, will I need to treat you like a common rat my worst gatherers bring back after a day of failed expeditions, or will you be the proper knight I know and obey?" The green mass wriggled before going still. "Good. Good. And to my little unseen watcher, do tell your new master that I am open to receive him. He may despise me today, but in the end, they all come begging to my door." The madman chuckled as an unseen figure ran away, uncaring of the noise they made as they bumped against a few tables and how the doors to the operation room visibly opened as they pushed them to make their way through, no longer caring about stealth now that they knew they had been noticed. The elf tilted his head as he watched them go with a smile on his lips, his earrings chiming as he moved. He then turned that warm smile and those pale eyes filled with the light of enthusiasm back to the matter at hand, namely the organic matter in his hand and the associated pile of flesh on his table. "Now, let''s get back to it!" Chapter 133 : Doctors ramblings James watched curiously as Doctor Ivan Decanov, the robot he had hired to help put his factory back into working shape, paced all around the large basement that would serve as the facility''s power plant. He didn''t expect much out of it, despite what the mechanical man had claimed about the potential of an engine making use of the innate ability of his infused to recharge in the dark James doubted it could actually be enough to fully supply the entire facility with all of the energy it would require. Still, covering any percentage of electricity they''d need from the city''s grid would reduce the bills, and help cover up some of the more questionable applications, such as the massive security system the scientist and engineer had also promised. On that note, James was no expert in that field, but he thought those two professions were distinct enough that most people only had one of either title, and yet his robotic contractor proudly referred to himself with both. The metal man occasionally pulled out a measuring tape from one of his labcoat''s inner pockets and unfurled it to verify something about the damaged mess of metal that was left of the factory''s former generator, presumably destroyed soon before it was closed. Decanov taking measures wasn''t odd by itself, it only made sense the doctor would verify what he could work with and potentially salvage from the previous generator to hasten the construction of his own design, but what was bizarre was what he measured and how often. Sometimes he would stop and extend the tape through the nothing of the air, at one point even turning his back to the husk he was supposed to replace. He barely even acknowledged the thing, and at one point James couldn''t hold his curiosity back anymore. "Doctor, may I ask you a question?" "You already did, but go ahead." Ah, yes. Suddenly James was reminded that the dear doctor was infamous for his terrible temper, and the reincarnated pizza delivery boy realized perhaps he was a little hasty in dismissing those rumors from his mind when he talked with the man so far. It only made sense for someone to keep their worst under control the best they could when negotiating for a job, after all. Still, so far it was closer to an overly serious teacher than the nightmare of rudeness the man was rumored to be, even if he kept his back to him. "I am simply curious as to your way of taking measurements." "Ah. Well, in truth I do not need this little device. I am perfectly capable of extrapolating the dimensions of this room and all that stands in it from the visual memories I have accumulated. This thing is more of a safety procedure, to make sure none of my inner parts have a calibration issue, as well as to make it easier for me to assess certain distances in those visual memories when I begin truly working on your new power plant." "I see. I imagine you have some kind of way of emulating 3D software in your mind, then." "So do organics, I simply have more focus and the necessary intelligence to fully take advantage of it. Where the average might struggle to picture an apple and have to mentally cut it to ''see'' its insides, I can perceive a fictive object with perfect accuracy both inside and out. The same is true for items I remember, I can fully imagine with all the details I could sense with no loss." Uh. I wonder if I could do something similar. I''m no longer bound by the limits of a brain, and my senses are also greatly enhanced. Maybe I could try in my soul space? Oh, perhaps it could even enhance my ability to perceive things from infused things. "That sounds quite useful. It must save you some time." "Yes, yes. Not having to go through the nerve-burning process my colleagues composed of flesh do does let me work a little quicker. Still, this ability''s true worth is not its speed. I do not need a computer specialized for simulations to notice any flaw in the design, should a flaw of any sort escape my notice somehow my subconscious would still register it and include it in my mental tests. I can also adjust for modifications on the fly, compare the efficiency of different materials and shapes of cogs and gears, I can determine the best cable management possible to ensure both safety and effectiveness..." "In short, you are a one-man workforce when it comes to planning, equipped with all the electronics required." "It is a brutish way of summarizing it, but yes. Of course, such an ability would be useless without the intellect to use it. I''d like to see one of those Cored who can copy an ability or two try to imitate me, they''d be slower than an engineer fresh from school." "Speaking of Cores, excuse my ignorance, I haven''t been interacting with sapient artificial intelligences for long, but could you perhaps be Cored yourself, doctor?" "Ah, both an idiotic and intelligent question." Rude. "As entities created not by a natural process but by the hand of another, we artificial ones cannot form a Core, no matter what we do. A Core, much as it may annoy my fellow men of science to finally admit, is innately an organic thing, something between a bone and an organ. It simply cannot spontaneously manifest in a metal body or even synthetic flesh. I heard something similar is true even of homunculi, though the magical and alchemical fields are not my expertise." "Somehow, I can tell you aren''t done talking." "Astute observation. See, all of the above covers the stupidity of your interrogation. Though the larger scientific community still refuses to admit the true nature of Cores, instead treating them as a curiosity of reality that is somehow a mineral that miraculously appears in living beings, it is still common knowledge a robot cannot form a Core. Yet, that is where this statement ends. Nothing is stopping one of us from putting an existing Core within ourselves. In fact, most sapient machines will have such a Core as their energy source, their heart if you will. In general, this is where this matter stops, Cores serve as smaller and more powerful generators that save us from spending hours charging for a few moments of autonomy." "Again, there is more to tell." "Quite. Cores are simply evolution''s way of letting the natural entities of the universe harness the powers of Aspects until they become so ingrained in the species that the Core becomes obsolete and slowly disappears, leaving no Corite behind yet still letting the entities use their powers. Think of unicorns, for instance. The average specimen has no Core, and yet they all display a connection to at least one Aspetc depending on their subspecies." James wasn''t a genius, but his vague knowledge of evolution and animals was enough to figure out this one. "Cores manifested in horses or their ancestors, and slowly turned into the horn." "Right. It is easy to see even for me and you, men who to my knowledge haven''t taken any step towards a doctorate in zoology, yet it is clear as day. We can even guess how the phenomenon occurred." "Visible Cores were a clear sign of power, to an animal the bigger the thing the better mating potential. It is as you said easy to guess, and fits in with the existing comportment of large quadrupedal herbivorous mammalian. They value horns or tusks over anything else, to the point some species grow them so much they die impaled by their own bodies." "Ah, I see you''re following. We can even explain the differences between the various groups across the globe by differences in what members of the group valued at the time in the region. The Eastern Slasher focuses on large sharp nigh magicless horns capable of dueling, with the males killing the losers of their bouts, whereas the Holy Walker focuses on a more practical solution, sacrificing size until they are left with a numb with enough power to heal an entire herd from major injuries in a few hours, with potency being linked to their natural glow instead." James could guess they weren''t talking about unicorns just for the fun of it, though he had to admit it was fun to treat a fictional animal in his world like any other normal one here, as well as to get the point of view of a local with a controversial opinion the matter judging by Decanov''s wording. The great thing about people who love to talk is that they are incredible sources of information when they are truly knowledgeable on a subject you''re interested in. Putting up with the love for their own voice or tendency to dismiss others could be tiring, but to a foreigner like James, it was fully worth the mental effort. "If I understand you correctly, there is a way for robots to skip this evolutionary step that is the Core and obtain a way to use Aspects directly." "Indeed. In fact, in a very primitive and roundabout way, you''ve already achieved it. Those electroguns of yours, when using one of your black crystals, can inflict the Transformation Aspect upon their targets. It isn''t perfect, it isn''t a continuous passive connection like a natural entity would have and they only act as proxies for your own powers, but it is a step in the right direction." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "Do you employ such a method to use a particular Aspect, doctor?" "Sadly no. I had no need for it until relatively recently, and my research so far is slowed down by my lack of resources and the general secretiveness when it comes to this topic. The ACS is already a fragmented nation that barely holds together, and Zalcien''s situation does not help. We are not one of the elite city-states where precious materials can be bought as easily as bread, and neither are we one of the nightmarish pits of depravity and cruelty that let the black market fester to the point where nuclear armaments are an easy find. All we have is an unremarkable city and an underworld that doesn''t how to sell anything but drugs and basic weaponry. Our top three Villains would still be part of the upper echelons of the criminal hierarchy elsewhere, but they wouldn''t be at the top." The robot let out a sigh as he continued his work. "Think about it. What do we have? An old man on the verge of losing his mind obsessed with explosions, a cult leader who has already converted all of the available idiots to his ideology and now cannot do anything else, and a narcissistic woman who wastes her immense potential just making simple machines to keep her little make-believe empire running. None of them bring anything to this city, even by Villain standards. The same goes for our Heroes, a brutish snake, a witch that refuses to act her age and keeps her spells to herself, and a cretin who lucked his way into robotics to the point his creations cause as much chaos as they end it." For the first time since the duo began talking the doctor turned to look at James. "This city is plagued by fools who in their mad attempts at keeping the status quo have enforced global stagnation. Even if I were to wish to wield an Aspect myself, I have none of the means the rest of the world has developed. I am a scientific genius trapped in a land stuck in the era of metaphorical sticks and stones." "And yet you promised me a machine that could replace me in the infusion process for large-scale production." "Are you deaf, or have you perhaps failed to grasp the signification of my tirade? I have the ability to make good of my word, I am only restrained by my environment. And that is where you step in, my dear master of Transformation. You can alter the world, in both senses of the term, and with a backer such as you there is no doubt about the quality of my work. Your crystals alone could revolutionize this city, with my skills and intellect bringing out all of their potential we could very well change the world itself." "Truly?" "Oh yes. It wouldn''t be anything on the same level as a successful and flawless size-altering device or a weapon capable of razing continents, but an affordable nigh eternal energy producer with no harmful drawback would still make waves. If all goes well you''ll get millions if not billions to do whatever you wish, and I''ll get the respect I deserve, as well as an opportunity to continue the rest of my research as I please without any brainless manager more concerned about today''s wallet than tomorrow''s riches getting in my way." James stared at the metallic man, a fire burning into his cold artificial eyes that wasn''t the result of any machinery or electronics but the genuine spark of determination only found among people. An active frown had replaced the doctor''s usual neutral yet still uninviting expression, the robot''s face''s lack of ability to change easily compensated by the position of his prominent eyebrows. "Truth be told, doctor, I care little for fame and unnecessary wealth. All I need is enough to live a comfortable life and to give my employees the same luxury without risking my company in the process. I''d go as far as to say that anonymity is my preferred state of things, keeping me away from the undesired attention of people who wouldn''t hesitate to employ force to keep me or my activities under control." "Oh. I can understand your doubts and worries, but reconsider. What we could achieve here could very well change the world. Imagine hospitals and laboratories equipped with emergency generators making use of your crystals. Imagine city lights that automatically activate and deactivate themselves as the dark comes and goes, using no energy but the night itself. Imagine satellites and ships that sail the vastness of space fueled both by starlight and the cold void." "I understand your passion, doctor, but as I''ve said I quite enjoy staying low. Surely there should be a way for you to develop those technologies you speak without spreading my name." "If that is your only worry, then yes. You''d just need to supply me with enough materials to create my own Transformation machine and I could continue my work without any further involvement from you, but keep in mind there are powers that easily still track that sort of thing. Every item you have ''infused'', to borrow your terminology, has a connection to you. This connection is at its strongest when these dark crystals are involved, and any third party investigating them could link them to you if they have anyone with seer abilities." There were a lot of words right now that James didn''t like one bit, and had he still had one he was certain his heart would have both dropped and skipped a beat or two. Still, he had to preserve his cold calculative persona for now, he couldn''t let his contractor notice his tension. "How did you notice this phenomenon yourself, doctor?" "My eyes are outfitted with numerous modifications to help me with my work. Seeing the flow of energy to ensure it follows the path I designed is a very important part of keeping my machines from detonating, for instance. Be at ease, this specific device is hard to obtain with such a degree of quality and reliability, and it took me pushing it to its limit to realize the faint connection between any black item in these halls and yourself. By my estimate, no one outside of perhaps the Black Bank and the Union would have something capable of detecting these links if you keep your operations at this scale, and neither would initiate a fight with an upstanding citizen." "How can you be so certain no one else could have access to such technology?" "Because they are the only people in this city that could possibly outsource such a device. Mine is the only one that was ever made in Zalcien, I should know, I assembled it myself. As for magical means, the best mage in this city is too obsessed with blasts to care about scrying. At best people will notice the elemental energy drowning the place, but this can be explained through other means than Transformation and even then they would not be able to notice the matching signature between it and yourself." "It is reassuring to know this, though realizing that anonymity won''t be as effective at protecting me as I thought is a little distressing." "Bah, let them come, I say. I may be one of the scientists that this city fears the most, and yet I still live. The Hero Union and the police do not abuse their power and never go after those that respect the law bar rotten apples within their midst, and the Villains for all their bravado avoid making too much of a mess. They know that the Union keeps a list of people of interest, and should they attempt anything they''d be dealing with more Heroes and sidekicks than they have minions to throw at the problem. It is as I told you, this city is kept in an eternal stalemate that ensures stagnation." "I understand your annoyance at such a thing, as a man doing his best to change the world, but I find myself quite happy with the situation if it means my safety is preserved." "I fail to see the point of life, artificial or natural, lived without taking chances for a better tomorrow, but you are not the first one to disappoint me so. A shame, you had proven to be surprisingly pleasant otherwise. In any case, I do hope that seeing my vision regarding your command come to fruition will ease you into larger projects. It would be a shame to waste such remarkable potential on a single shop. The fact you are now taking steps toward refurbishing a factory tells me that deep down, you aren''t quite as reserved as you''d like to think, there is still a want for growth, for improvement, that drives your actions." "How interesting, doctor Decanov. And here I thought you had no doctorate in psychology." "Try having ninety-nine siblings with identical bodies, you''ll quickly find yourself becoming quite adept at identifying people and their character through what they do, mister Silhouette." "That sounds like quite the extended family, doctor. And here I was, confident you were an only child." "If only. Some of them are tolerable, even enjoyable on a good day, but the vast majority are cretins who only know how to get in trouble. Why, I wouldn''t be surprised to see one of them knocking at your door for a job as one of your guards while another tries to break in for a heist, fully unaware of the other''s presence. Perhaps not, Centurion and Prime have gotten better at keeping track of the others and opportunistically taking advantage of it." That sounded a lot like a potential problem James should prepare for, but before he had the luxury to question the robot more about his surprisingly large number of possibly problematic siblings, he felt something like a string tuck deep within him. The sensation wasn''t completely new, he had discovered it by accident some time ago, but feeling something for the third time was just as disturbing as the first when it came to matters of the soul. He excused himself from the scientist who simply waved him off as he continued his measures and James hurried to what had essentially become his office in the facility. As soon as the door was locked, he began to meditate, and quickly found himself diving deeper into his inner self. Soon enough he was a shadowy blob attached to a gigantic incomplete ball of threads that linked back to him in a great empty void he referred to as his soul space. Around him were black outlines from which the threads formed, representations of every item he had a connection with thanks to infusion, as well as black jagged scars from battles past, mostly from his encounter with the demon Sydakors, but a few had appeared after his fight with Runar. He had sewn them all shut by pulling at the black strings, breaking their otherwise straight lines to the massive strange orb to head to those marks and replace the glowing light of the spiritual wounds with his familiar darkness before resuming their natural paths. James knew he was connected to infused items for a long time now, and he had even learned to eavesdrop through them when he first discovered this immaterial space. It was how he had spied on who had now become his most useful Infused, the witless minions that remained from enemies he defeated by corrupting them during combat. The slime that had once been known as Soluble was a perfect likeness of Silhouette ever since the shadows had turned them into Solvent, and James had even used them as a proxy body a few times by talking through them and ordering their movements. He could somewhat do the same with the others, and he had even used it to telepathically communicate with a few of them to avoid being spied on himself, but Solvent was the easiest to connect with and the only so far he could interact with at a distance. Right now, his thread to the slimy body double was pulled, a sign James had taught them to use in case of emergency. He took a deep breath mental breath in his spiritual space and prepared himself for a physical headache as he got ready to deal with whatever mess was brewing in the slums. Of course things can''t stay quiet for longer than a day. Chapter 134 : Runic recycling When James felt his senses fuse with those of Solvent, he was somewhat relieved that at the very least the doppelganger was still where he had ordered them to stay, Runar''s former headquarters. The five-story-tall building had been heavily shaken and weakened by the battle between Silhouette''s forces and the goons of the runemaster, with many cracks appearing all over its surface and ruining the many enchantments within. Frankly, James wouldn''t have been surprised they''d have to abandon the place before it would come crumbling down a few days after the fact, that is until he remembered his ability to somewhat manipulate and fuse materials touched by his shadows. The process took two days of work, and he had to make sure to keep some rune specialists nearby at all times to avoid damaging anything vital to the structure''s integrity or that could cause a gigantic magical explosion, but by the time he was done, the building was repaired and even somewhat solidified, offering a much better foundation for the enchantments meant to improve it, such as the magical shield that had once struggled to keep the burst of infectious darkness that had launched the hostilities for the final battle. Sadly Runar himself, despite being heavily infused from what James could tell from what he felt from his soul space, had vanished without a trace, meaning the vast knowledge of the runemaster was lost for now, leaving him with only the most talented of the scribes who spent their days either creating magical products en masse or maintaining the existing enchantments. In other words, the upgrades to the building itself were great, but the decrease in the quality of the enchantments that ran all over and inside it combined into an overall result that was only marginally better than the original structure the magical gang leader had used. And, unlike the man with elven ancestry, James didn''t have a bunch of superpowered people to keep an eye on it at all times. Were a group as strong as the one he had led attacked now while he was away, they''d likely be able to win and take over. Luckily, fights of this scale rarely occurred in these parts of the slums. Not only because of the Black Bank nearby, but also because such major conflicts meant one of the opposing sides was guaranteed to be wiped out, and the local gangs cared way too much about their survival to risk it. Plus, no one outside of James'' trusted group knew the exact scale and strength of their whole... Organization? Team? Enterprise? Whatever the name, to the rest of the world they were complete unknowns, too mysterious, creepy, and effective to risk angering for now. At least that was the plan. Solvent''s call was obviously a sign something was going on. His mental connection to the Infused was hard to describe. When it came to telepathy, it wasn''t something as simple as a voice echoing in one''s head as it was often simplified in media, even here on Terra Stellis. No, it was something much more primal, something that went beyond words and tones. It was about raw emotions, hidden meanings, an individual''s history, and the fusion of different people''s understanding of the world until one singular idea could be shared. So, it wants anything that could be verbally transmitted that reached James'' mind when Solvent felt him focusing on them, but if anything it was something much more effective at letting him get the gist of things. Beneath the black dome that covered the sky and offered much more privacy than Runar''s usual set-up, on the flat roof that had long ago become an office opened to the air, comfortably yet intimidatingly placed in the seat that marked them as the one in charge, the black bones that formed the grim skeleton at the core of Solvent began to shake, the dark mass of shadows pooling at their feet and beneath the black desk that had replaced Runar''s began to make their way up, crawling over the bones and smothering them like some sort of carnivorous tar creature. In seconds the skeleton took on the usual shape of Silhouette, much to the distress of the person sitting in the chair opposite them. Valker, formerly better known as Tristare, one of the Runarian Knights, had been very anxious about his fate when his former employer disappeared into the aether while the entity the said employer had antagonized repeatedly had him at its mercy. Luckily for him and his coworker Medraw as well as all of the surviving minions of their departed lord, Silhouette had been open to the idea of letting them live without going being subjected to the Transformation Aspect, so long as they were willing to sign a very constraining contract. They may have essentially become the slaves of the shadow creature in the end, at the very least they were slaves who could still form their own opinions, even if they would never be able to act on them. The suit of armor mainly composed of chainmail which had become his signature equipment had changed very little since the arrival of his new master, essentially just becoming black after Silhouette got his tentacles on it after some time spent analyzing it alongside his inventor, but the upgrade in durability was appreciated. The invisibility enchantment woven in the metal had become weaker and thus easier to detect and break for those with the right tools or techniques, the masterful work Runar had done being destroyed in the metamorphosis and impossible to perfectly replace with him gone, but Valker could still appreciate the way the new suit let him better blend in the shadows. If anything, his ability to hide in plain sight had gotten drastically better so long as he stayed in the dark, his updated suit somehow becoming one with the ambient shadows. It even covered sounds outside of the suit itself, which meant he would not be defeated by noises produced by his body once again. He still had shivers thinking about the dangerous stupidity of the idiots that formed the Shadow Commando, as well as their illogical extreme effectiveness despite it. But right now, what had the helmetless man shake in his boots was the disturbing way his new master appeared from the remains of a former enemy. He wasn''t fully filed in on how the process worked exactly, but if anything it made things even worse. His mind couldn''t help but picture his own bones blackened and abandoned in that seat, his consciousness still here but unable to do anything but observe the fate of the husk the body had become, forced to witness his enemies use it as an item like any other to further their goals, not even treated with the due respect a trophy of war should have. Sometimes, he cursed his imagination. It was an often forgotten tool for a spymaster, the ability to come up with various ways the information he had gathered could align and fit in together, but it was also absolutely atrocious when it came to matters like this one, or what had become of the Runarian Knights'' former unspoken leader. Gods, the way the flesh writhed, and the dragging of metal on the brain... Even the experienced scout could keep away the grimace that formed on his exposed face. It was an odd thing around these parts, not only were people of his species rather rare to see outside of the seaside he was a mutant among them. For instance, the light blue scales that covered his skin housed four pairs of gills spread through both sides of his head were perfectly natural for his people, but the lungs in his chest that let him breathe with ease on the surface were an oddity. Most of his kin either had to go through apne or wear special gear, much like humans did when diving. The sight of a normally aquatic creature in the slums was uncommon, but not fully unexpected. Numerous were the Cored or their descendants who had the Body Aspect and mutated into hybrids of animals that could live at sea or in rivers. The specifics of how the Body Aspect chose what powers to give people and if transforming them was necessary were a mystery to the Baudrer, but the fact remained that seeing a shark man wasn''t anything out of the ordinary. What made Valker''s case special was that he wasn''t a mutated member of the human race or any of its close cousins who ended up looking like a fish, but rather a variant from a humanoid species that had evolved independently from the homo sapiens family underwater. There were no truly animalistic features on his body that could be likened to a single creature, but rather a series of traits that had become commonplace among aquatic lifeforms due to their usefulness. He had scales, he had membranes he could puff up or keep limp and easy to hide that he could use as fins to easily and rapidly move, his mouth was home to many small sharp teeth meant to keep prey trapped inside rather than easily chew, and he had no hair to speak of, instead replaced by more membranous parts that males of his species used to attract mates by incorporating them in colorful dances. Valker still had traits that made him an outcast from his people. His third eye was the easiest to notice of a lot, even people from other species could tell it wasn''t meant to be there, but it wasn''t the only one. The normally colorful fins that dropped from his head to his shoulders, usually covered by his chainmail veil, had been a dull dark blue ever since his birth and despite puberty. He lacked the webbing commonly found between the digits of his kin, here to better maneuver in the water, and his limbs were oddly proportioned by their standards, a little too big, better to fit in with other humanoids but making his efforts to swim harder than the rest of his people. The most bizarre and extreme of these mutations though, at least by the standards of his species, was his size. While female Baudrers could be anything from human-sized to twice that, the males were much smaller, most never going past the knee of the smallest female. The reproductive process of Baudrers was similar to the one employed by deepsea anglerfish, one of their cousin species. A male attached himself to a female''s body and slowly fused with it by becoming nutrients for her while the sexual organs would be preserved as a growth she would then use as she pleased when she felt ready to have progeny. This drastic difference in their biology made their society highly matriarchal, and a mutant like Valker was very unwelcome there. Joining a group that didn''t care one bit about what his body should be and instead only his abilities was nice. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Now was just a matter of hoping he would keep his body. Knowing the Patcher''s love for the bizarre and grotesque, should a conflict occur between the elf and Silhouette, Valker would likely be one of the first targets. And with the contract he had signed, he couldn''t simply run away. Oh, the irony. He escaped a potential fate of fusing with a partner to now risk being fused against his will with a stranger. At least this time he might be lucky enough to be the brain in charge. The upsetting wince of the erringly humanoid yet alien piscine face of his subordinate did not escape James'' notice, but he was willing to overlook it. Solvent being disturbing and creepy was second nature to them, and the whole grotesque transformation thing fit in James'' construction of the Silhouette mythos perfectly. Once you became a horror icon, people had a habit of no longer trying to trouble you with their nonsense and needless violence. Keeping up the scary part of the act was not necessary with loyal employees and trusted confidants, but to put it bluntly, the remains of Runar''s gang were neither, aside from those that had been infused. The day he no longer doubted their abilities and willingness to commit to the group, magically enslaved or not, was the day he''d feel okay to let peak somewhat behind the curtain of his facade. Until then, they''d have to make do with the global pastry reward policy, as well as the medical benefits. Also, some of the rune inscribers had been very eager to sign the deal when they saw their new salaries and vacation days. Judging by the fact the strange fish person wasn''t overtly panicking and running about, James was at the very least relieved to see whatever emergency needed him wasn''t a direct attack on their position. Still, seeing Tristare - no, he went by his original name of Valker now, without Runar around the whole knight theme had been dropped after all - here and fidgety instead of out and about couldn''t be good news, especially as he now knew through Solvent what his last assignment had been. "Valker. What is it that required me to be present immediately?" "Master. I was keeping an eye on the Patcher, to see if he had taken in Karadok and was preparing something to avenge Runar or not." "What have you discovered?" "I can confirm Karadok was there, but not as a guest or a client. He''s the latest project in monster crafting of the Patcher, he plans to modify him to become an upgrade to Glapissant, some sort of living fortress called Kamelot from what I heard." "This is not what I wanted to hear, but at the very least we now know for certain what happened to the last Knight, that''s the five of you taken care of. Judging by how quickly you came back and your demand to see me, that isn''t all you have to say." "I''m afraid not, master. The Patcher expressed curiosity in you, pondering the possibility you may be close enough to flesh to fit in with his usual designs, and considered having you and Karadok be joined in a sacrilegious union of a beast." Knowing what he did about the insane man and his creations, James was confident this was very bad news. Another madman trying to enslave him and break his will to fit their own design was the exact opposite of what he wanted, and what made the situation even worse was the uncertainty in all matters related to the maker of abominations. He had ties with many of the major gangs and Villainous groups, this was public news in the slums, but how important these connections were wasn''t. James knew at the very least that Sunburn, the rumored strongest Villain of the city, had moved to catch and return some of the Patcher''s creatures that had escaped, but would the Draskian cyborg be willing to act on the man''s behalf to attack someone else? If he did, would the rest of the Blood Angels, the gang he was part of, let him do as he pleased? Even if none of the people who owed the madman acted, what about the Patcher himself and his grotesque victims? Glapissant was a nightmare to deal with, but how much of that was the beast, and how much were the runic inscriptions Runar had made on its bones? As for the man, he might have been powerless without his creatures just as well as he could have been twice as strong as Runar, no one had ever seen him fight after all. If they did, they weren''t able to spread the tale. "Did he mention anything about a possible hunt or assault, in whichever way he expresses himself?" "No, master, but I hurried to return when he alluded to knowing about my presence, much like you did back when I spied on you in your warehouse." "Oh. Did he say anything else? If he knew who you were exactly, perhaps?" "Yes, he knew it was me, and that I now worked for you. He deduced your Transformation Aspect as well, from studying Karadok''s severed hands I believe. He also told me to remind you his door was open to you at any time, should you ever require his services." "I see. From now on, have Mischief keep an eye on the area without getting too close. It appears the Patcher isn''t willing to initiate a fight, but I wouldn''t be surprised if the next group who tries to fight us has one of his creations at their command. A cold war of sorts. Is there anything else you wish to say about this situation?" "Only that whatever your feelings may be about Karadok, what he''s going through is far worse than what he and Runar had planned. If this Kamelot does come for you, please have the mercy to kill it." "If the opportunity comes, I would happily put an end to the suffering of any of the abominations that man may send after us. If that is all on the Patcher situation, try to fill me in about the others you have spied on. I know Solvent and Mischief keep track of those things, but hearing them from your mouth would help better understand. No need to go into details." "Medraw would be better at explaining this, but let me try. Most of the surrounding gangs are nervous about your takeover, but since Runar''s aggressivity towards you was made public on the Block when Pierce Evil first attacked you they are willing to stay put for now, doubly so since you have yet to initiate any more fights since then. Besides, the closest in the area were far too weak to pose a threat to the former master of the land, what could they hope to do against you? Wicked Witchcraft as a whole swept the whole incident under the rug, unsurprising since the lord had been banished in all but name. The bigger groups are hearing about your name, but so far none seem to show an interest in communicating with or crushing us. Some of Runar''s former clients have stopped all contact with us, but the majority are happy to keep using our services since the quality of our goods hasn''t dropped. The same goes for our suppliers." "Did any of them protest the policy change when it came to weaponry?" "A few, but they''re happy to keep it to themselves with the increase in defensive enchantments. They may not kill as many of their enemies as they did in the past, but they get to keep their people alive, doubly so when two of our clients engage with one another. As for the mundane items, they are as popular as ever, and I believe you are correct to think they would also sell well in the city." "Very good. Has anyone approached us for an alliance or special contract? What about those in search of employment?" "Mostly mutual agreements not to begin hostilities, and we accept them all as per your orders. We did get a messenger or two trying to sell the services of mercenary guards, as well as possible suppliers that lord Runar had refused, but none of them were eye-catching enough to be deemed worthy of your attention. A few new clients appeared, but again, nothing worth bothering you. Those looking for a job in either your warehouse, your shop, or this runic item production facility have grown in number, but so far we have yet to give anyone any response." "Who was handling hiring for Runar? Perhaps they could help us weed out spies and thieves so that we can give the hard workers the jobs they demand and that we need people for." "Karadok did, master. Truth be told, he was the one running most of the operations here, the lord only took care of paperwork that required his signature and runes beyond the level of our scribes. Not to say he did nothing, but rather that Karadok did much more than just his Knightly duties of handling threats." "I see. I suppose then that finding someone suited for the hiring process is our priority when it comes to new employees. Medraw can fill in the meantime if she is available." "With all due respect master, I doubt she will be willing to work with strangers until she molts to heal her wound and her illusory equipment is fixed. Thankfully letters and audio messages have been enough to handle our clients so far, but I fear anything that requires her to be present in person will be impossible unless you want her to be so stressed she cannot fulfill her tasks properly." The first time James had seen the mysterious leather-clad woman without her disguise had been surprising, to say the least. Without the magic of the runes covering her attire, her true insectile nature had been revealed, exposing a humanoid cockroach-like creature. Techlord had done a number on her during their fight, and it appeared even now she had yet to heal the dent in the exoskeleton on her head. She had been compliant when Mischief caught her, and aside from her visceral dislike to show her true self to others she had proven to be a very good worker. Techlord and the Commando hadn''t been careful enough when attempting to strip her of her armor and damaged the leather, in turn breaking the runes. The scribes were working on it, but without Runar''s original design to copy it was much slower than fixing Valker''s invisibility suit, and imperfect illusionary runes produced results that should not be seen by anyone outside of a torture room. "Have her do it remotely, then. Perhaps you could stay in the room with the interviewee while she talks through an intercom? People would assume they aren''t being observed and might even drop their guard and not bother putting up a facade then." "I believe you are correct, master. I think I have nothing more to report, though I ask you to forgive me for interrupting your work." "Do not worry, Valker. I prefer to be called for nothing than to be left in the dark in dire times. Besides, it was Solvent who called me, which means they agreed with your assessment that I needed to get involved." "Right. The skeleton." "Indeed, though I''m not confident it was theirs to begin with. They seem quite comfortable to forgo it when necessary, even though it is still part of them." "Oh." Darkness melted from the black bones and settled back down into a pool of shadows under the concerned gaze of Valker. "What did he mean, ''they can go without the skeleton''?" Chapter 135 : Chaos at the Cabal Hidden in the darkness of her domain, a feminine figure sitting on a throne with a back taller than a house and composed of grinding silver gears and clockwork mechanisms looked down from her elevated position to her subordinate kneeling before her at the bottom of the stairs leading to her imperial piece of furniture. The only thing that could clearly be seen of her was the red glow of her eyes, a haunting predatory stare that had her loyal minion sweat nervously, the sole human in the underground kingdom of machines her throne room had become, spider-like robots hanging on the walls between banners as metal guards stood on either side of the red carpet that led from the entrance to her, not to mention the dozens of different other artificial creatures she had crafted that waited by her side and were ready to act at her command. The only thing breaking the silence her presence demanded was the sound of large pumps, their work echoing between the finely carved walls of stone and metal like the beating of a heart, their deed being visible by the dark red fluid moving through the countless glass pipes that ran throughout the room, forming lines framing the scarlet banners on the walls as well completely covering the ceiling, with a few more pairs leading to her throne and converging in a large transparent dome in the center of its back the size of a man, forming a beautiful ruby. Her voice finally came, overshadowing the harmony of machinery. It was a chilling yet entrancing thing, a sound that begged to be the center of attention. "Abrakaboom''s oldest friend has disappeared, you say?" "Yes, your Highness. It appears Runar Arthen went to war with a newcomer named Silhouette and lost. Silhouette has taken over most of Runar''s former holdings, and replaced him as a provider of runic goods." "A tragic yet predictable fate for such an arrogant man. He thought himself a Daedalus, but he was nothing more than another Icarus. I wonder how the old mage will react. Will he try to avenge his fallen comrade? Will he instead aim his wrath at those who isolated him from the rest of Wicked Witchcraft? Or will perhaps his fading sanity make him forget it all and drive him to live yet another day with nothing but explosions in mind? Hopefully, the final result will give us an opening to grow our reach. What more can you tell me of this Silhouette?" "Nothing much, your Highness. All that is known is that he is a capable wielder of shadows, as well as a businessman first and foremost. He has yet to initiate any feud himself, he was merely responding to previous assaults by Runar." "An element manipulator who can do more than just cause trouble related to their element? My, every day is a surprise. Keep track of his activities for now, if Abrakaboom is to act it will be sooner rather than later. The mage has a short fuse, he doesn''t have the mental capacity to plan too far ahead, even before his mind degraded." "As you command, your Highness. Should we send out living scouts or some of your glorious machines?" "My dear servant, I wouldn''t be an Empress if I involved myself in this sort of decision. Assign someone to oversee the operation, they are free to manage it however they please." "It will be done, your Highness."
In another chamber far away, a group of a dozen people wearing extravagant and colorful outfits at a round table babbled on in panic as they discussed the latest piece of news that had reached them, and it took the banging of a wooden hammer in the hand of a bald dwarf with a braided pink beard wearing in green clothing to put an end to the cacophony and let their words be decipherable once more. "Mages, mages, settle down! I''ve heard nests of Horrible Hornets more harmonious than this!" The others turned as one to look at the diminutive druid, their eyes being level with his thanks to the custom chairs they had designed to all be placed at an equal height. A hulking figure twice as tall as a human man and covered in plates of thick red chitin huffed, the sole member of the group to not have a seat due to her sheer size, her width rivaling her height. Strips of white cloth were tied to her limbs when possible, and something that could vaguely be called a toga was draped over her bestial chest, with holes cut in place to allow her many arms to pass through. Golden bells and fake flowers and grapes were attached to her attire to compliment her looks, not that many found the spiky surface of her body or her alien visage aesthetically pleasing even with the elegant and graceful style of her outfit. Most non-arthropods struggled to genuinely think of a monstrous hybrid of a crab and a lobster as beautiful. Her voice was surprisingly normal, simply what could be expected from an average woman. "You speak as though we were unruly children, Lotus. We have every reason to be agitated with the situation at hand." A Caucasian human man with a slightly better-than-average face nodded, the gesture making the strange ball of red cotton attached to a particularly long and curved strand of hair that stood out from his short blonde locks bobble, the whole gesture giving his otherwise somewhat extravagant yet still stern red three-piece suit a completely ridiculous look. "Mania speaks true. I propose we resume yelling until we have all vented our frustration and fear so that we can tackle the problem with a clear mind later on." The woman sitting opposite him sighed as she put her head between her hands, the contrast of her otherwise dark skin with the light gray crackling veins that had overtaken her digits and were spreading to her exposed forearms, her dress composed of what appeared to be the severed wings of multiple species of raptors leaving her head and upper limbs bare while completely hiding the rest of her body beneath feathers, a small hood of paler ones hiding her hair from view. "Kellen, we don''t have the time for this sort of behavior. Lotus, Do you have anything in mind?" The dwarven druid shook his head and the transparent blue figure sat to his right sighed before clearing their nonexistent throat, their featureless body flowing like barely-held-together fumes as they adjusted their position in their seat before they spoke, their androgynous voice tainted by a bizarre echo as the sparkles in their form grew a little brighter each time they spoke a syllable before returning to normal. "I''ll do the honor then, Avelle. To summarize the situation, Runar managed to get himself killed, and now we have to handle the repercussions of that. I propose-" A tall muscled man with dark ginger hair and a bushy beard slammed his fist on the table, cracks spreading through the wood before it quickly healed itself. The anger that radiated from his eyes was almost burning, and his muscles tensed, perfectly visible as he wore only a pair of burlap pants, leaving his lightly tanned skin and his black tribal tattoos exposed, the sharp lines of black ink almost flowing like waves as he moved even for something as simple as a breath. "NOTHING! That darn Runar is finally out of our hair for good, why should we bother doing anything?" Avelle, the mage dressed in wings, answered. "Galleus shut up and listen. Runar might have been a thorn in our side when he sat at this council, but he was still a core founder of Wicked Witchcraft, as well as one of the few people who could reliably ask Abrakaboom to do things. His death-" She was interrupted before she could continue by a figure dressed in black. Their large coat featured silver trims and thin lines and left none of their skin exposed, the only thing being visible of the person beneath being the white simplistic avian mask they wore, cylinders of dark metal with black glass serving as goggles that replaced the eyes while their long beak featured no attempt at mimicking a mouth or nostrils, resulting in the porcelain item being hiding their body just as much as their cloak. To top their outfit off, a small black top hat, far too small to fit on the head of anything larger than a mundane domestic cat, sat atop their head and miraculously stayed attached. "Disappearance, dear. Without a body, his death cannot be confirmed." "Fine, his disappearance poses a lot of problems, Galleus. For one, it''s an insult to us. He might have been exiled in all but name, but he was still technically part of this council. How do you think the rest of the cabal will react? Second, what do you think Abrakaboom will do once he learns about his best friend vanishing out of nowhere? He''s going to be mad! And I don''t know about you, but I''d rather not have each of my cells explode one by one. Ether, you sounded like you had a plan, please continue." If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The spectral blue being nodded. "Yes, thank you Avelle. The way I see it, our most logical and safest choice would be to aim Abrakaboom''s wrath at this Silhouette. We get rid of a possible threat, we let our champion vent his frustration, and we make an example of anyone trying to insult us." Lotus, the dwarven druid, hummed as he held his chin hidden beneath his thick pink beard. "Yes, I can see it. If we went in ourselves he might be mad we stole his kill or something of the sort. I''m with Ether on this one." The figure dressed in black with a white bird mask clicked their tongue repeatedly as they shook their head. "My dears, you are missing another major possibility." Avielle sighed. "And what might that be, Mercury?" "Why, befriending this Silhouette, my dear." Galleus banged his first against the table once more. "Are you mad, you old bird?! We aren''t gonna ally with a guy who just killed one of ours!" Ether continued. "Especially not when Abrakaboom has a reason to want them dead." "Oh, my dears, you fail to see the bigger picture. Runar, much like myself, wasn''t a master of the arcane arts for combat, but creation. We do not bend the elements to our will or anything of the sort, we instead use magic with a focus for utility. Any of you dears would have killed either of us in a duel, and I''m confident so could most of your direct subordinates. That is, of course, so long as the duel is on neutral grounds. Unlike you lot, bar perhaps Lotus and his druids, we are incredibly reliant on our environment. Fighting a runemaster or an alchemist in their workshop or laboratory is utter madness, and yet that is how Runar was lost." The crustacean creature shifted her position on the cushion her lower part laid on. "He was the weakest of us. Besides, we kicked him out only a few months ago, that''s nothing compared to how long you''ve been in your lab." "Ah, my dear Mania, that''s where you miss my point. While it is true his new base could not be as heavily defended as his original workshop, the fact remains a runemaster as experienced as him would have installed measures to prepare for intruders, measures that none of you would dare to brave alone. I know for a fact that were I to be the one cast out of this council, I would have befallen the same fate as Runar." Ether butted in. "Is this it? Are you afraid you might be the next one on the list? Mercury, you know we wouldn''t allow that to happen." "And yet, my dear, the truth is in front of our eyes. Don''t tell me you haven''t put the facts together, dear, you are intelligent enough to figure out something is off about this situation. We all received the reports regarding Runar''s demise hours before this meeting at best, and yet his defeat occurred days ago according to those very same reports. Why such a delay? I will vocalize the thought we share. This is sabotage." Hushed whispers that grew louder every second resumed in the room, and before a minute was over the mages were back to yelling to the point none of their voices were clear. Lotus was forced to grow a vine from his sleeve that turned into a wooden hammer in his hand once more, the strength of his blows cracking the table beneath as the hits echoed in the chamber, only held back from being heard throughout the rest of their base by the soundproofing enchantments on the walls. "SILENCE! Silence! Mercury, those are grave accusations. For something of this magnitude, holding back all of our subordinates'' reports, the only possibility would be-" Avielle finished. "There is a traitor at this table." Kellen, the man dressed sharply in red, tilted his head. "Couldn''t it be simply one of our direct subordinates? Or perhaps a move planned by all of our scouts working together. Not to forget, this could be a gaffe from a secretary who forgot to give us those reports until today." The translucent figure answered. "No, that can''t be it. Lotus'' druids wouldn''t listen to any orders given out by Mercury''s lab assistants, for instance. A globalized attempt at withholding information from us by the scouts is possible, but the logistics of it would be insane, not to mention one of them would likely have ratted the rest of them out by now. As for the idea that this is the result of an incompetent''s mistake, it doesn''t work. We don''t have a centralized service for reports, they go up our respective command chains independently, and a single person wouldn''t be able to accidentally hold them all back." Yet another banging of a fist against wood resonated, and the gruff voice of Galleus filled the room. "There''s only one of us here who showed any support to that Silhouette, and that''s the old bird!" The alchemist let out a short sound, something that could have either been a sign of amusement or anger before they spoke. "On the contrary, a traitor would not be so blatant in their support. Not that the delay in this piece of news only benefits Silhouette, other groups would be more than happy to turn our dear Abrakaboom against us. Not to mention, I mentioned a saboteur, not a traitor my dear Lotus. This could very well be the work of an outside agent particularly gifted in stealth or information manipulation." Avielle was the first one to speak out after this. "Didn''t Runar have someone that could turn invisible?" Lotus grumbled. "Yeah, but we would have caught it. We wouldn''t miss the magic. Some technological nonsense on the other hand might slip through." Mania continued, one of her claws from her largest pair of limbs tapping the chitin of the other one. "With us out of the picture, the Empress could just swoop in on our assets while Abrakaboom is off doing his usual stuff, and all that''s left in her way are the Hivines, which she will happily use to fuel her expansion. One swift move and she takes over the entire city''s criminal world." Ether hummed as they pondered the situation. "While I agree with the idea this isn''t a genius move by a newcomer but rather a scheme from one of our rivals, this doesn''t suddenly eliminate the possibility of a traitor in our ranks. Still, without any proof to either confirm or deny this theory, there''s nothing we can do about it. Increase the overall security perhaps, and have our messengers be in contact more often is the best I''ve got." "On this, I agree dear. This sabotage will remain a mystery for now, but what we can discuss is which plan we will use to handle this Silhouette situation. Let it be known, no matter what decision this council makes, I will contact Silhouette to attempt and establish a peaceful relationship." Another banging of flesh on wood. "Old bird! That''s against the rules!" "Would you please cease calling me a bird, Galleus dear? As for the rules, I will be acting as an independent agent, not a representative of the cabal. Should our dear Abrakaboom be displeased by my actions, I will provide a sincere apology and believable excuses. You will be free from consequences either way." The dwarven druid still seemed uncomfortable with the alchemist''s choice. "Are you certain, Mercury? You said yourself that without your lab you''d be as weak as Runar, and this is the man that took him down we''re talking about. Remember, you are a valued member of this council." "Yes, my dear Lotus, I am confident in my decision. Now, I propose a vote. Who among us wishes to calm the situation before any fighting begins?" Their gloved hand went up in the air, and so did those of two other robed figures that had stayed silent so far. Ether picked it up from there. "Those in favor of informing Abrakaboom and letting him atomize everything in his path as he pleases so long as it isn''t here?" The rest of the council raised their hands, even more of those that had stayed silent choosing this moment to show their opinion by following the others. "I see. There will be no need for counting, dears, I can see we already have our result. Now, with that matter dealt with, I have something I believe you will all appreciate." The white-masked being reached inside their coat and pulled out small wooden crates the size of egg cartons one at a time, quickly producing too many containers to fit reasonably inside of their clothing without at the very least making large bulges, despite the cloth being perfectly flat beforehand. The surrounding mages promptly grabbed one of those crates each, every box featuring a paper note with a sketch of a corresponding member of the council bar for Ether and Mercury themself. Once only those two were left without a box, the alchemist continued to talk, ignoring the way most of them had opened the wooden thing in their hands and pulled out a small glass vial half a thumb in height and filled with a red liquid that they hurried to empty down their throats. "I had my dear assistants pack our clients'' commands already, everything should be in the global warehouse by now. I went ahead and experimented with your potions for this batch, dears." The mages all froze at once, eyeing the white elongated mask of their comrade as Avielle dared to vocalize the thought they all shared. "Mercury, what did you do?" "Ouh, I replaced the fermented bergamot with seeds of depressed dandelions! It replaces the usual strawberry flavor with a cherry one!" "Mercury, what about side effects?" "Ah, right, sorry dear. There are next to none and they are always the same bar the one test subject that spontaneously combusted after consuming five in a row. They turn all bodily wastes pink for a week and replace the natural stench with a much more pleasant raspberry perfume." Kellen nodded, his face as serious as ever. "If you could isolate the phenomenon responsible for this, we could have a popular potion. Pet owners would fight to get it to make the upkeep of their companions'' hygiene more tolerable, and bars and dance clubs would be more than happy to have a way to ensure their bathrooms are always comfortable for use." "You forgot the gyms, dear! I said all bodily wastes, that includes sweat. Athletes may find the pink coloration unpleasant, but the changing room and showers would be far more relaxing." Lotus the druid had to chyme in to pull the duo away from their discussion about potential customers. "Mercury, did you say one subject spontaneously combusted? Those things are unusable!" "Lotus, dear, I make sure to only present functional goods. Had you listened you would have known the reaction only occurred after five doses in a row, so long as those as used as the upkeep portion and not the initial intake, they are perfectly fine. Our clients'' commands use the usual formula. Now, as much as I wish I could stay and go on about my latest discoveries and potential new applications for old products, I have a meeting with a possible abyssal to prepare. I will let the rest of you handle how to inform our dear Abrakaboom his most beloved friend has disappeared." Before they could protest the alchemist threw a glass orb filled a pink gas on the ground where it shattered, and in a puff of yellow smoke, they were gone from their seat. The others raged on Mercury''s exit for a few minutes before ultimately fighting out who would tell their supposed leader the bad news in what could only be described as a magical and slightly more complex form of rock paper scissors. Chapter 136 : Blazing beacon of power Gangsters and lowlives of all sorts ran around screaming, scratching at their faces, or rolling on the ground in their mad attempts to chase away the flames that engulfed them, somehow shining brighter than the raging inferno that devoured the illegal casino they were all escaping from. Moans and screams roared from the pyre, the still living victims letting out all of their pain and suffering in a vain hope it might offer even a fraction of relief. It didn''t. A single man made it through the entrance door without any hint of any burn. Yet, his face was distorted by fear as he pushed his legs and muscles to the limit to run away as fast as he could, going around every single flaming husk that reached out for assistance that had once been either his goons or collaborators, some of which he had called friends. His decorated tacky clothes lost their luster some time ago, covered in ashes and soot, and for once the man obsessed with appearances and gilded items was satisfied with this scenario since it might hide him or his identity from the demon after him. However, his mind was far too preoccupied with panic at the moment to let this information leave the safety of his subconscious. Of course, his escape was a fool''s errand. He couldn''t make it past the middle of the road before a wall of fire that rose higher than any building in the street blocked his way, the curtain of flames widening until there was no escape left, leaving the man alone in his despair, the only thing louder than the roaring of the inferno''s wrath being the steps that came closer. Calming walking in the heart of the brazier of crumbling rubble that was a building mere moments was a man feared by all in this city, his silhouette being indistinguishable from a demon''s. A body of black metal covered in the reflections of the world of embers surrounding it, with sleek limbs thin as bones and a waist that easily be grabbed onto with one hand. The figure seemed covered in spikes and covered in cinders, but a closer look revealed that in truth it was composed of dozens of plates overlapping each other, leaving small gaps to expose the burning heat within, the fire burning in the cyborg''s chest shining through the surrounding blaze, a furnace of hate that fueled the rampaging destruction in its wake. The man''s head marked his height, slightly shorter than the average man, but this minute size discrepancy did nothing to dampen his presence. The metaphorical fire that burned in his blue eyes rivaled the worryingly real one in his torso, and his short dark buzzy gray hair fluttered along with the flames with the disputed air. The wrinkles on the exposed skin of his face weren''t merely a sign of his age, but another way to express the scowl that littered his features. The mask that covered his lower face from the chin to the nose wasn''t unlike an aviator''s mask for pilots in military aircraft, though it lacked the eye-catching tube meant to ease breathing. With each step forward the black feet of the man crushed the still-sizzling remains of the casino until they hit the concrete of the street, the ground melting into boiling footsteps as he got closer and closer until he reached the asphalt of the road. Flames crawled from his soles up until they licked at his knees as he began to speak, his deep raspy voice marked by a notable but not overwhelming Draskian accent. "Dominik Herlein. You have attempted to make a fool of us." The man trapped between the wall of flames and the master of the hell that had been unleashed on the mortal world went to his knee and begged, ignoring the way the heat spread through the asphalt scratching at his pants and knees, blood dripping down and beginning to bubble before it had a chance to form a puddle. "Sunburn! I''m sorry! Look, I''ll give you the names, just let me go! I have a family!" "I do not need names. Moonfreeze and I tracked down each one of those involved in your little scheme. There is nothing you can say or do that will save you now." "Wait! What would Marcus do?! Think about it!" "If Marcus were here, you''d be watching your family be exsanguinated before being drowned in a bucket of their blood. He would only disapprove of my scorched earth policy for how merciful it is." The Draskian man bent the knee to lower himself closer to the begging man''s eye level before cupping Dominik''s chin and cheek with one of his metallic hands, ignoring the way the flesh charred instantly and fell apart to reveal teeth and the mandible, the tears that fell down the mafia boss'' eyes boiling instantly and scarring the skin from the sheer heat. The poor damned soul felt pain like never before, and yet something stopped him from interrupting or missing the words his tormentor spoke through his mask, mesmerized by the halo of terrible flames that engulfed them both and nipped at him. "Be not afraid. All those years as a loyal customer have earned you a final boon." Dominik couldn''t ask what, his tongue was already gone. The final thing it could do was taste the overwhelming amount of ashes that filled his mouth, the remains of his empire, his minions, and his very own body. "I''ll make sure your family will be able to put you in an urn." The black hand closed into a fist, but what met it wasn''t the crunch of a shattering skull but the quiet sound of falling particles, grey grains of incinerated matter falling onto the large pile on the ground. One could be forgiven for doubting it ever used to be a man, for even those unlucky few who had been watching the scene from neighboring windows, who were just as trapped in the infernal wall as the main target of the cyborg, couldn''t believe the ease with which a person became nothing. The ashes rose in a twisted wind and poured themselves into a rectangular container attached to the thin waist of the master of the flames. Once all that remained of Dominik Herlein was secured in the metal box, he simply screwed the lid shut. The wall of fire that had trapped the deceased man bloated until it burst, leaving nothing but a rain of cinders. The cyborg resumed his walk, stepping away from the smoke and inferno as he reached for the small emblem on his chest over where a heart should be, a vaguely shield-like piece of metal featuring a skull crowned by a scarlet halo and crying trails of blood from the eyesockets housing two red dots, a mad grin on its skeletal features. The emblem came off without a hitch, still attached to the torso by a black curly wire, and he called. "Sunburn, reporting." A high-pitched energetic voice slightly drowned by statics answered. "Sunburn! How goes the barbecue?" "Moonfreeze. I have dealt with Dominik Herlein and his collaborators. The message should be clear." "Yeah, yeah, I can see the news. There should be a Vigilante coming your way, by the by." The words came just in time to punctuate the arrival of a silver figure floating in the air, radiating cold. It was humanoid in the loosest sense of the term, with digitigrade clawed legs covered in metal and flexible tubes that led to a bulky torso that featured both a pair of powerful arms ending in digits that turned into fearsome blades as well as a pair of wings that sent chilling winds down onto the flames as the entity kept itself airborne. Those flying limbs were the least organic parts of the creature, made not of feathers or leather but instead, jets linked together by articulate arms, positioned in such a way they mimicked true wings. They were assisted by a long powerful tail of coiled cables that was twice the length of the being, helping in keeping its balance judging by the way it moved. The final part of the biomechanical being was its head, a mockery of a dragon''s visage, the vaguely distinguishable triangular features of the predatory creature being overtaken by bloated bumps caused by the machinery kept beneath its skin and flesh, grafted onto the bone. Truth be told, it was impossible to know if this was a mechanical entity enhanced by meat or an organic one equipped with artificial enhancements, and in both cases whether it had ever been remotely draconic in origin. A shivering cry echoed from its throat, a twisted sound between an eagle''s screech and the rumbling of metal, followed by a voice that struggled to be understood, overtaken as it was by groans and virtual echoes. "Sunburn, master of flames. I have come from Kalen to further sharpen my skills as the lord of frost and cement my place as the sole savior my city needs. Now come, and fall to the blizzard of Boreal Beast!" "Moonfreeze, is that idiot part of any group we should be concerned about?" "Nope!" Seconds later, all that was left in the street was the black cyborg and the charred carcass of a monster lying in a pool of melted metal and plastic. "I hate pompous hotheads with more bravado than skill." "Aw, man! You could have gone easy on the guy! I could have recycled some of that stuff for my whole freezing thing! It''s in the name, ya know." "You should have mentioned this earlier. Is there anything else you deem worth sharing before I return to base?" "Uh... Kinda? A Patchee dropped by to deliver a message, if we ever need the spooky guy''s help to deal with a dude named Silhouette he''d give us a discount. Well, so long as he got to get his grubby hands on the guy, but ya know how it goes with him." "Do we have any reason to antagonize this Silhouette fellow?" "Nah. From what the boys told me, the guy is a newcomer in the area. No beef with us, but apparently the wizards have a bone to pick. Remember the guy they kicked out, the one Abrakaboom really liked?" "Yes?" "That Silhouette dude kinda killed him. The magicians are in an uproar, from what we learned, and the old guy himself may go on a rampage any day now." "Which could lead to Abrakaboom going down a self-destructive path, leaving Wicked Witchcraft without their guardian. This is a perfect opening for the Empress, the magic users wither and die on their own, she can attack the Hivines and repurpose them, and she''s free to take over the city." "Yup! So, who''s in the mood for fried robots?" "Has Marcus authorized this?" "As if the boss wouldn''t want to see the streets run red with blood." "I did not hear a confirmation, Moonfreeze." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "Ugh. Fine, I''ll go ask him, I''ll be right back." The cyborg spared a glance at the would-be vigilante''s remains before turning his gaze to the sky, flames appearing from his closed fists and wrapping around his arms as he bent his knee. A blast of purple energy fell from above, its spherical core as large as a house with a tail twice that long. With an uppercut from the Draskian, the magical projectile was blown to nothing but embers that turned the world orange from their glow. A young woman with a witch''s hat floated down from a nearby building, a black wand with a glowing purple tip in her hand. Her strange black and purple outfit, a mix of long flowing cloth and revealed skin with a theme of prestidigitation, screamed of a need for attention. The people of the city easily and happily indulged her. After all, who could ever forget and not love the greatest magical Hero of Zalcien? "Miss Malice." Sunburn rolled his cybernetic neck, the metal cracking in odd ways as a mantle of heat that distorted the air grew from his vents. His words were answered by a giggle from the diminutive woman, her free hand poorly covering her lips in one of her infamous poses. To her, the world was a game, at least until she felt her life was at risk. It appeared he had to remind her it very much was. Faster than the civilians watching from the relative safety of their homes could perceive, the cyborg was off. His foot had pressed so hard against the ground already weakened by his burning body during the events earlier it easily cracked, and shrapnel hotter than boiling water was sent flying everywhere. The man himself was covered in scorching red flames, his fist extended forward to meet the mage''s torso. In a pink flash she was gone, standing behind the inferno in a human shape, a protective magical bubble blocking the shrapnel from touching her or her designer clothes as she readied another spell, her wand twirling and drawing symbols in the air. Sparkles flew and an odd chyme echoed with her every gesture, a smile on her lips. She had to flash away once more as pillars of fire erupted from beneath the ground, the cold eyes of the Draskian watching her as his arm was buried in the pavement. Every time she reappeared a new burst of flames went her way. Every time she had to reposition herself. Every time she had to abandon casting another spell to riposte and focus on defense or flight. Every time, he had the upper hand. At last pink and purple energies mixed in ribbons poured worth from her wand, and the criminal had to leap away from his spot to avoid the corrosive wave of magic that ate through the concrete as though it was snow in summer. Of course, leaping away from his position did not mean giving up his assault. Unable to teleport away due to her spell, Miss Malice was easy pickings for the cyborg. His burning fist hit her shield with a loud bang, and for the first time in this fight, panic reached her face as she stopped floating and dropped to the floor, barely avoiding the scorching touch of the black metal. Her knees hurt and her clothes lost some fabric at the joints as she hit the ground and scratched the pavement, but now wasn''t the time to worry about her attire. In another burst of pink light, she was gone. A nanosecond later, a black foot stomped down where she had laid, its force and heat breaking through the ground until it was buried up to the knee. The woman chuckled as she reappeared casually floating in the air, a smug look on her face as she looked down at Sunburn. That is until she realized the upper half of her witch''s hat was gone, a still burning orange descending from the missing spot and threatening to ruin her hair. Her hand snapped to the accessory and threw it away with no hesitation, leaving the perfect opening for the man to free his limb. "Sunburn! Do you have any idea what this hat cost? You owe me, you fiery oaf." A torrent of flames rose from his open palm into the skies. The air turned red, and none in the street could withstand to keep their eyes open. It wasn''t their brain''s instinctive understanding of the risk of blindness that forced their hand, but rather the sheer heat that threatened to cook their eyes in their sockets. A cloud of hateful fire robbed this part of the city of the natural and kinder sunlight, and it was slowly spreading. The cyborg closed his hand and stopped fueling the blazing disaster above, only for the witch to reappear by his side. "Ts ts ts, now, now, Sunburn, did you think letting out your anger would catch me off-guard?" The Draskian looked her in the eye, cold blue meeting mysterious purple. His arm rose, his palm open, but not towards her. Her eyes widened as she let out a squeak, realizing his plan. "Oh, no." She teleported away, reappearing exactly in front of where he had been aiming his next blast of inferno. The closest house. The flames were brighter and their flow stronger as hell was unleashed, the blazing torrent meeting a solid wall of purple magic. The heat kept rising as the construct of the witch slowly was pushed back. And then he raised his other arm. The light of the fire grew too fierce for anyone to see. Seconds later it dissipated, revealing the blackened yet intact building that would have been engulfed by the inferno had it not been for the witch''s actions. The woman herself had disappeared, with no trace of her left behind. That is, until a bolt of magic hit Sunburn in the back of the head, prompting him to turn around and witness Miss Malice floating as usual, taking on a pose that made the absurdly long pieces of fabric that hung down from her white bustier like a parody of a tailcoat flutter in the air, a smirk on her purple lips. For all her projected confidence, it was hard to miss the droplets of sweat that ran from her forehead, as well as the way her chest moved frantically in a desperate search for breath. "Nice try, Villain, but-" His scorching black metal fist met her stomach, and she was sent flying through a dozen walls in four different buildings like a meteorite. When she came to she was buried in a crater in what likely used to be a bathroom judging by the tiles and the leaks, with a gaping hole in her torso that was larger than her head, the flesh within charred and cauterized shut, the bones of her ribs and spine missing. "Well, that''s not pleasant." Purple magic poured from her wand onto the fatal wound, weaving odd patterns that covered the hollow spot. The glowing facsimile of bandages was quite eye-catching, doubly so with how much of her it covered, but it would let her keep on fighting a little while longer. The improvised healing was finished just in time for the dark silhouette of the cyborg to appear in the corner of her eye, the terrible flames surrounding him having grown so powerful she could no longer distinguish any of his features through the light and heat bar the metal of his body and the furnace in his chest. "Did your mother never teach you not to melt holes through ladies, dear? That''s awfully rude." The only response to her taunt was yet more fire filling her vision. She flashed away and reappeared next to the man this time, a very wise decision judging by the beam of concentrated heat that cut the world in half behind the Draskian. Ethereal water dropped from her wand and grew into tremendous waves that roared and crashed into the burning man, the magically produced liquid bubbling and boiling unit it was naught but froth before it could make contact. A step''s worth of floating to the left to avoid a fireball. Another to the right. Up. Down. Left. Up. Right. Launch another spell. Right. Right. Up. Spell. Bubble. Up- She flinched and winced as cinders and molten cement fell on her from the ceiling, the family home burning past the point it could be comfortably fought in for anyone not immune to flames. The moment of distraction was enough for Sunburn to reach once more. This time she managed to form enough of a shield to soften the blow and protect her body from further damage. It did little to keep from being sent flying through hard surfaces once more. Her floating spell saved her from landing in a heap on the bubbling asphalt, mineral blisters growing and exploding into splashes of scalding orange liquid, but she was hurt by the travel nonetheless. Her body and clothes, once pristine, were covered in cuts and burns, not to mention the black and grey of the surrounding ashes. If she were to be honest with herself, Miss Malice would likely collapse the moment she tried using her legs instead of defying gravity. As though a vision of the apocalypse, he arrived soon after. The infernal aura draping him was more dawning than ever before, and she couldn''t fight back the slight shaking in her hand as she raised her wand. Words of bravado left her lips, but neither were fooled by the projected confidence. "You think this will be enough to take me down? Ah! As stupid as ever, my dear Draskian." A portion of the hellish power that covered Sunburn coalesced into a javelin in his hand, and he aimed for a throw. The shaft of blazing hate, taller than her, was a concentrated portion of his fire, and she knew it would pierce through her defenses with ease. Worse still, she wouldn''t be able to teleport away for at least a minute or two. Fine. If this body was doomed to fall, at the very least she could make sure he would be too weak to continue his rampage. The cyborg pulled back his arm as he readied himself. Any second now. But the projectile never came. Daring to pass through the infernal mantle of the Draskian, a large bulky blue mechanical hand, easily as wide as a human''s torso, had snatched Sunburn''s limb and held it back. A second hand braved the flames, a fist that went directly to the Villain''s face. The man was pushed back, the power behind the hit and his heat digging glowing lines in the pavement. Away from the fire''s blinding presence, the witch''s savior became fully visible. It was a robotic construct, a being composed of five orbs, four roughly the size of large beachballs that served as the hands and feet, with minute mechanisms to reveal toes and fingers and other hidden gadgets, while a fifth one that could rival a car served as both its torso and head, a simplistic smiling face behind included in its design on its uttermost part, roughly where the hatch allowing someone to slip in was. Miss Malice couldn''t be certain if her colleague was actually within the mech or not, but either way, she appreciated the helping hand, late as it was. Maybe she''d even spare him from his lesson on punctuality. If he was nice, that is. And begged for forgiveness. And had a lot of chocolate. Maybe a coupon for a spa day too. "Magic girl, sorry for missing the party. Hey, is that a hole in your stomach or a new diet?" Nope. He was getting cursed as soon as this was over. "Mecha Man, didn''t your parents teach you not to leave a lady waiting, especially when she was fighting a threat to the city?" "Sure, but they told me not to play with fire, either." The robot banged its fists together as the voice with a static echo spoke, and its friendly smile suddenly took on a much more mocking tone as it faced the silhouette in the flames. "And right now, I''m about to have a lot of fun with it." The slender black limb of the Draskian rose, a scarlet flicker appearing between its digits. Before whatever he was preparing could be finalized, the voice of Moonfreeze suddenly shouted out once more from the radio on his chest. "Alright, Sunny! Marcus is all in for breaking the Empress'' expensive toys. So? Anything special going on?" His cold blue eyes, hidden from his opponents by the fury of the blazing power enveloping him, stared at the two Heroes for several seconds in silence. Neither side, not even Mecha Man despite his little quip, dared to end the tense peace that had resulted from his arrival. "Moonfreeze, can we afford to battle two members of the Hero Top Trio? Not fully powered up, either of them." "Uuuh... Nope. Sorry dude, we''re stretched a little too thin right now. Next time though, I''m kicking their butts with you!" "Understood." The scarlet glow that had begun to grow in his hand disappeared, and he let his arm drop back down to his side. "You are in luck, you two. I have bigger fish to fry rather than finish this." The Hero controlling the blue armor scoffed through his mic, and the witch floating in the air by his shoulder shook her head as she sighed. "Sunny, I think you''re not getting it. You''re under arrest, so we''re not letting you get away!" The figure in the fire tilted his head and pointed up. "Are you, now?" The two Heroes looked to the sky. Panic quickly invaded their very souls as they were reminded of the scorching cloud the cyborg had created when he had fired up, the cataclysmic cumulus glowed like a furnace, coloring the very world orange in the middle of the day. Suddenly the still phenomenon grew agitated, and before either of the two could think of an immediate solution, things became even worse. In a terrible mimicry of a solar storm, strands of hellish heated energy began to leave the greater mass and descend. The tendrils of burning death would doubtlessly annihilate all in their way, and the cloud above had grown to cover multiple streets. "Mecha, call the others, now. I''ll hold it off as best as I can." The suit didn''t react, a sign the man controlling it, whether he was inside or not, was following her instructions. She gathered all of the magical power still available in this flesh vessel and prayed to all gods she knew would listen and might lend a hand that Firefighter would drop by quickly. Purple light erupted from her wand like never before today as she fell, no longer fuelling the spell that kept her afloat. She ignored the pain as she hit the still-hot ground. She paid no attention to the blisters that formed on her skin. The way her hair charred and turned to ashes down to the roots was completely missed. She only focused on her wand. On her magic. On protecting. Power surged forth, and rather than a stable dome, what the purple and pink strands of magic weaved together formed was a spiritual mirror to the storm above. Tendrils of mercy and justice rose to entangle the blazing tentacles from above. Though weaker, her creations were enough to keep the greater disaster at bay, redirecting them into the open air and each other to save the surrounding buildings, even if some were already burning from previous events of the battle. Neither of the Heroes could stop the Villain who simply walked away. Chapter 137 : Cancerous growth Robed figures walked Among carved stone walls, their fingers gloved in brown cloth tracing the grooves in the stone, both those done by the mastered chisels of mankind and the scratches and wear nature had made. Despite their various heights and body shapes, all those wandering in these grey corridors, hidden from the sun, looked the same. They were dressed in green from head to toe, the cloak draping over their shoulders and covering their every feature being made of vines weaved together, still fresh, still alive. The hoods of their attire combined with their masks of bark were the finishing touches to fully hide their identity. The wood on their faces let out a beautiful perfume, the intoxicating freedom of a hike in the forest, and none of them reacted to the small critters that dwelled in it. They ignored the way the legs of the carpenter ants felt on their skin as they went from one entrance of their nest to another, and let the bugs do as they pleased. The fingers running on the walls were delicate in their movements, making sure not to disturb those that had dug nests in the crevasses or the plants that had grown to use the stone as support, leaving their roots and stems just as secured as they were. Every leaf was treated with the same respect and care a newborn child was given, every creature, be they bumble bees, lizards, or mice, was venerated as a lord. The only sounds disturbing the quiet melody of nature were the figures'' footsteps, and even then those were silenced, as light as possible. They continued their trek under the gentle blue light of the glowworms above, the enchanting droplets on their long lone dropping strings of web combined with their shining bodies creating a spectacle that could rival the night skies. At last, they reached their goal. The corridor they had followed led to a grand cavern, one so large it could have easily welcomed the largest sporting events in the city had anyone discovered it and dared to ruin its magnificence. The lights of the larvae above shone brighter and more numerous than the stars themselves, and despite their many visits to this holy place, they all found themselves just as captivated by the sight as they had been on their first arrival. Unlike the silence of the path they had taken, however, this cave featured a buzzing sound, a song not from man, but life. Blue bees, marvelous critters whose chitin and hairs capable of rivaling sapphires and lapis lazuli, saw their innate enchanting bodies further enhanced by the ambient luminescence. There was no fear in the eyes of the pilgrims, even in the privacy of the hidden space behind their masks. They knew they would not be harmed, that they were just as part of the hive as their insectile kin. The group left their corridor, leaving the rectangular opening crowned by an archway behind, and vines gently rolled down to cover this path to their inner sanctum, to preserve them from the prying eyes of the unenlightened and the heretics. Fools could not appreciate beauty. Madmen would rather destroy what is right than admit they are wrong. The newcomers joined the thousands already gathered here, waiting together in the middle of this great cavern, but they weren''t the last. They could see them, coming from dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of other openings in the stone. None could know the true number of entrances to this holy place, not only were the walls covered in vibrant emerald plantlife that hid the stone and commanded dexterous vines, but they also had to account for the ways their smaller kin flew or crawled or swam in and out of the cave. The figures carefully watched their steps, not simply to avoid falling in the bottomless wells and puddles spread throughout the room, but also to preserve any of their animalistic or fungal or floral brethren that might have chosen to join their gathering. Few were those beside the Golden Blooms on the walls and the Diamond Flies above that dared to enter this domain, too overwhelmed by its majesty to trek through it without the gift of sapience, but there were some. They waited there, minutes, hours perhaps. At long last the vines and leaves of green surrounding them shifted, and the flowers that had been hidden in their buds camouflaged in their greater mass so far revealed themselves. The gathered began to chant, a holy hymn to their leader and his doctrine that only they could understand, that the unfaithful could never comprehend. Though they were sworn to act as one, those present here did feel somewhat superior to their fellows elsewhere in the city at the moment. On this day, He had chosen to bless them by appearing himself here. The buds opened, and large golden flowers bloomed. They only featured four petals, but how mesmerizing they were. Each was shaped as a heart, a symbol of life, of love, of vigor, but their points were aimed outward, a reminder that life, no matter how meek, could defend itself. They were positioned in pairs, one closest to the center and hugging the stamen and the pistils with their curves, while the second was perpendicular to the first, a little further away from the delectable core. The magnificent flowers, whose size ran from as small as nails to larger than men, shared a similar oddity: their reproductive organs, their stamens and pistils, as well as their pollen were a beautiful red. Not the hue of blood, but a brighter, more joyful one. Clouds of this colorful pollen fell from their cores, their weight dragging them down to the ground leading them to wash over the pilgrims in a great wave, as though an ethearal liquid. Miraculously the red particles did not stick to their green robes, their wooden masks, or any of their features hidden beneath their attire. No, they fell like snowflakes but slid off them before mysteriously rising back up before they reached the ground. What had appeared in a wave driven by gravity now turned into the rise of particles as though a mirror of a bizarre yet enchanting red snowing. The first of the pollen reached the glowing blue strings of the worms above and stuck to them. The bioluminescence was strong enough to pass through the flowers'' release, leaving the room as illuminated as it was previously. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Then, he was among them. None of his followers knew when or how he had arrived, but they could all feel it at once as he revealed his presence. He was there, in the center of the room, slowly rising above his flock thanks to the vines beneath his feet. He was no great druid or forbidden child of a dryad, no, he was but a mere humble man. Dark blonde hair weaved in a multitude of small braids decorated his cranium, the longest of them reaching only slightly below his shoulders. A serene and welcoming smile, drawn over between the slightly chubby cheeks of a healthy face with a light tan. A small nose, and a smooth chin that was the perfect in-between of squarish and pointy. Emerald eyes, sparkling with love and kindness drew the attention. None could be judged for being lost in his gaze. His lean yet muscular body was partially visible beneath the vegetation that covered most of his skin, large leaves replacing sheets of cloth while vines and roots replaced the threads, the singular chimeric plant alive and thriving on his form, a fact made obvious by its blooming flowers, each one of the small dots a unique color different from the rest. Flora wasn''t all that called the glorious leader''s body home, fauna partook in it as well. A pair of magnificent ladybugs, each larger than a man''s hand, acted as shoulder pads, nibbling on small berries produced by the green beneath. Silkworms and glowworms worked side by side to produce their strong bindings, living in small nests all over the leaves as blue-glowing and white threads acted together to help their vegetal host keep its shape. Not only that, the colorful lines on the shifting hues of green beneath drew beautiful curves, meaningless symbols designed by them alone, examples of nature''s careless beauty. There were more bugs hidden between the leaves of course, but they were more subtle and timid than the others. And the mushrooms! How could anyone forget the fungal touch? Translucent mycelium ran over the attire, and plates of spongy reddish brown flesh grew to cover the body where more resilience and durability were needed, such as to form a mimicry of a belt or to form a hard yet flexible padding for his feet to protect them from traitorous terrain and retain heat. The bizarre ensemble formed by the cooperation of vastly different forms of life was undoubtedly a chaotic sight, but it was as breathtaking as the sunrise in a wild jungle. Some leaves formed an approximation of a coat that draped over his shoulders until the middle of his back, much like others attempted the form long flowing sleeves, only they failed to cover more than the bottom of the arm, and they would obviously fall off were it not for the threads binding them. The largest leaf of all began at the waist, forming a loincloth that hung down to the knees while growing wider than his hips at its largest point. His legs for their part were covered by greenery that hugged them close until it flared out at the ankles, nearly hiding from view the fungal flesh further below. His exposed hands spread wide he welcomed his people, warmth and love radiating from his smooth charming voice. "Children of life, I am blessed to see you all on this day." Cries of admiration and devotion rose from the crowd, and they all ignored the way some of them were carried away by swarms of blue bees. Even the newcomers in this holy place knew their kin would never turn on them. They paid no attention to the heretical spies and the betrayers, and only focused on the Biflora as he reached greater heights. "On this day, I share with you all, both those present in the same cavern as I and those listening to the whispers of our floral friends, news of change." At once they went silent, not that any of them had been foolish enough to talk over his voice in the first place. "Our brethren throughout the kingdoms of life all shared the same news: Abrabakoom is heading on the path of war, seeking retribution for the fall of a fellow malicious magician. His target is known to us, but who this Silhouette truly is, and his connection to our beloved nature, is a mystery to me. Our kin in the police have informed me he is being investigated, and those in the media foretold an interview that might hopefully cast away the shadows of secrets on this master of darkness, to tell his goals and wishes. But know this, my friends: he will be invited to partake in our love of life all the same." He fell silent for a moment, letting hushed whispers run between the members of his flock, exchanging theories, hopes, and concerns for some long seconds before he resumed. "Should he sadly reveal himself to be yet another soldier in the ranks of the blasphemous, he will be treated as such. Even then, as evolution dictates, the time has come for Zalcien to change, grow, and adapt, or die. With the sinister sorcerer preoccupied and on the way to cause more trouble for the misguided Heroes of the Union than ever before, this is our chance to purge the Wicked from the land, to finally put an end to those unnatural manipulations of the world and enslavement of our floral kin. With the calamitous cabal defanged, only the scorching hate and greed of the blooded fools and the cold unfeeling pride of the atrocious artificer will stand between this city and its salvation." The pilgrims cheered, and the plants and creatures joined them, leaves shaking, petals throbbing, worms squishing, bees buzzing. "Yes! Our purification of this tainted earth is at hand! Once more will the people revel in the glory of nature and let it run its course, let the evergoing race for improvement continue! May mutations run rampant and determine the fate of mankind once more!" They all knew these words, and at once, they all spoke their hymn with him. ""Life breeds death! Death breeds challenge! Challenge breeds life!"" "And may the unrepentant heretics see the truth of our words! May they see the warm embrace of nature as it welcomes them back from the uncaring stagnancy of technology!" ""Flesh breeds love! Metal breeds hate!"" "And may the world resume its growth! Free from this artificial cancer!" ""May the vines grow high! May the roots grow deep!"" Their chant was echoed throughout many places such as this one in Zalcien, the form of their beloved Biflora formed by swarms of insects working as one as his words were relayed by the golden flowers on the walls, flapping their petals and shaking their stamens to reproduce his holy voice. His call was answered by countless cultists, faithfully worshipping him and his vision, careless of the consequences of his goals would bring. Many in the city of Zalcien realized the Hivines were a threat to the peace. Few truly understood how large this cult of life and nature had grown, and how deadly this cancer to civilization was. The incoming wave of change would let them all see. Chapter 138 : Unexpected visitor Although he had worked hard to reach this point in his new life, James couldn''t deny he felt some nostalgia for his early days. Well, some aspects of them. For instance, the constant worry of monsters hiding around the corner and the anxiety of being dropped in an unknown environment weren''t missed. However, it was hard to deny he had more time to mess around with his powers in the past. You''d think a horde of subordinates would mean he''d be free to do whatever he wanted, but sadly his need to check on them often and his desire to spend time with his adopted children left him very busy. The constant threat of death or slavery that was Runar also forced him to focus his training and research on specific topics, rather than the general messing around he had relied on when he first got acclimated to this new form. With everything taken care of, the kids training somewhere in the facility while his fake identity as James Valdest in this world was being assembled, the slums being back to quiet, the orphanage being as free of trouble as usual, no need for urgent magical research or learning, and the factory projects on hold until Doctor Decanov finished whatever he had planned for the new generator, however? James had more than enough time to experiment with the basics of his new existence. The first thing that came to mind was his ability to shift his state of matter, as well as turn into literal shadows. His body''s natural composition seemed to be a highly viscous liquid, close to tar, which allowed him to keep a reasonable degree of control while also leaving him free to shapeshift as he pleased and better absorb every attack he received. Blades and bullets just passed through him without doing any damage if they weren''t enhanced by Aspects or magic or elements in any way, and even things like hammers and maces weren''t as effective on him as they''d be against a normal person, the kinetic force of the blow being dampened by his somewhat gelatinous mass, with nothing sensible inside to be broken or damaged in the first place anyway. Despite all of its use, James usually just stuck to modifying his solidity and turning into darkness. It made sense, being able to transform his soft tentacles into blades or powerful blunt instruments was vital to fight, and his shadows helped in stealth and avoiding attacks. The fact remained the versatility of this ability was wasted, with both liquid and gas being barely used. His gaseous state was helpful for theatrics by making black mist, and it even helped keep track of things, but he knew there was more he could do with it than just that. As for his liquid physique, he essentially only entered this state to hasten his change of form. At the moment he still failed to see how becoming a black puddle could be handy when he could just become one with the shadows on the ground, but the same wasn''t true for turning into a gas. An idea had crossed his mind multiple times truth be told, but seeing as he was stuck underground and mostly in tight spaces, he hadn''t had the chance to practice it yet. It was simple, a classic of the Superhero genre, and yet he hadn''t seen any opponent make use of it so far. Perhaps it was the general trend, perhaps it was just Zalcien, or perhaps it was simply because of how technically those he had fought against the lower echelons of the Super world of Terra Stellis, but it was still a shock to see none of them truly use this staple of fiction back on Earth. Flight. Well, there was the psychic squid of that one pastry shop, but she was only floating in the air. Oh, and that one Runarian Knight who moved through the air thanks to some sort of summoned water current, but it was obvious the white knight had trouble controlling this ability and it wasn''t the kind of casual method of movement James had in mind. Now, it was perfectly reasonable for someone to wonder how could James fly. He could shapeshift into a bird, but his way of transforming wasn''t the perfect mimicry you''d see something like a druid use back in fiction on Earth. No, his method was closer to squishing his body roughly into the shape he wanted, with details being unnecessary since anyone who observed him could only see a Silhouette. To fly like a bird he''d need to perfectly imitate a bird, and this meant copying how they flew, with their bones and muscles and feathers in mind, not to mention he''d have to learn how to make use of air currents from scratch without any of the instincts natural flying creatures had. No, the method he had conceived was much simpler, and it made use of turning parts of himself into a gas. He had already tested he could alter his density, which meant he could in theory make himself partly lighter than air, and in turn become essentially a hot air balloon, just without the heat. And without the balloon. Well, he technically would be the ballon, but he wouldn''t be bloated and inflated like one, it''d be more like pockets inside of him pulling him up, and others pulling him down, changing his weight by altering his density or partially transforming his insides into immaterial shadows. Alright, it wouldn''t be as similar to hot air balloons as he first envisioned, but it wasn''t like there was an overwhelming number of airborne vehicles that flew thanks to air rather than rotating blades or engines. Maybe zeppelins? He wasn''t entirely certain of how they worked, but he was still pretty sure they relied on heating up whatever was in that inflated thing on top. Whether the process already existed or not was irrelevant. For the sake of privacy, he chose to practice in the factory. The ceiling was incredibly high, enough for him to feel safe testing his theory. In case of failure, the only witnesses would be the Infused he had brought with him, the windows all being tinted to avoid peeping and the doctor far too busy underground. As he often did when he prepared himself, James pretended to take in a deep breath and stretched left and right despite the whole process providing no physical benefit. He knew it was more of a placebo than anything, due to his general lack of organs and muscles, but if it helped him relax and concentrate just a tiny bit, then it was worth it. He altered his composition slowly, paying close attention to the way his body reacted and his balance shifted. He made sure to adjust his center of gravity as he became lighter and lighter, while also paying close attention to to how much of himself he needed to modify. The improvement to parallel thinking he had received upon inhabiting this body proved itself incredibly valuable here, his mind receiving far more information than his fleshy human brain could have ever computed at once and instantly making use of it. Finally, he felt his body escape the confines of gravity, all of his usual tentacles retracted to create a simpler and more balanced shape. He didn''t fly out at inconceivable speeds, no, and his floating was no more impressive than what could be done by a good magnet trick or a talented illusionist, there only being about a head''s worth of distance between himself and the ground, but it was still a success so far. Taking in the sight with his enhanced senses made him realize a rather embarrassing fact: without any tentacles or being partially embedded in the floor via shadows, his Silhouette look was pretty similar to an arrow pointing down. Not the worst thing to lookalike, but still not great. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Aesthetic and seriousness aside, he slowly lowered himself back to the ground. Just because this specific configuration of his transformed insides worked didn''t mean it was the best one possible. He''d try as many as he felt like to see if he could figure out one that stood above the rest, and then he''d do the same for when he actually began to fly rather than just hover. It wouldn''t be the glamorous and breathtaking first flight you''d often characters do in fiction, but those didn''t have to micromanage every part of their alien physiology to make it work. Cheaters. It was how he ended up spending his morning. Float up, hover down. Float up, hover down. Float up, hover down. Float up, move right, move left, move up, move down, move back, move forth. Again. Again. Again. At least his bizarre mind left him enough brainpower to do something else as he tested out his body and flight. Not much, but enough for him to feel safe messing around with his natural shadows. He had grown overly reliant on magic and the spells it provided, but since he supposedly had every Aspect known to man, there should be a way for him to use them in a way that could mimic spells or something. For instance, the local Villain Sunbrun controlled fire but did so without magic, could he do something similar with darkness? He technically already did somewhat, since he could use his transformed body to somewhat alter natural shadows as though they were part of him until they disconnected, but he wanted more. The Infused looked on emotionlessly as their leader moved through the air like the car of a worried first-time driver, all the while the natural shadow he projected on the ground thanks to the sunlight wobbled oddly, occasionally a distinct shape like a letter or a number or basic shape forming from the mass for a few seconds before collapsing. Had the Shadow Commando been there they might have begun to place bets or have a bizarre debate, but they were far too busy breaking down the remnants of Runar''s runic business back in the slums to come to the city. As James'' thoughts wandered the silhouette on the ground briefly took on the appearance of the armed group''s armor, thin gaps purposefully formed by the subconscious transformation showing the details of their equipment. He failed to notice it, the apparition disappearing right as his daydreaming ended. By the time one of the Infused came by to interrupt him, James was confident enough in his practice to feel safe flying casually, though he had no disillusion he could be effective in any kind of aerial combat after only a single session. As for the shadows, he realized he could not only use his shapeshifted body to temporarily manipulate them but could also alter them as though part of him so long as they were visible, though they were far harder to control and far less resilient. Still, figuring out he didn''t need to subtly extend himself and just use the natural darkness to restrain someone was quite nice. Perhaps he''d even learn how to affect the natural blackness formed between the skin and clothing, it''d be a great way to end fights before they begin. The Infused quickly shared telepathically the reason why it bothered him, and James found himself both confused and worried. Someone strange had just appeared knocking at the facility''s front door, asking to meet him. Without the safety of Solvent as a body double or of a reputation his interlocutor had to uphold, seeing this uninvited guest was a lot more dangerous than he was comfortable with, doubly so since the ratlings were around. At least they were alone, whereas he had an armed group at his beck and call. James headed to the entrance, slithering as a shadow on the ground to be faster and to avoid anyone trying to spy on the inner court between the buildings of his propriety. Before long he was standing before the closed door of the shop, and he had to admit what he could sense about the person waiting for him was odd, to say the least. At least they looked unarmed, not that he would drop his guard so easily. With a thin tentacle, he opened the door and revealed the strange fellow. They were lanky, disturbingly so, to the point James wondered if they were starving or underfed, and despite their hunched posture and bent knees, they were still eye-level with James in his Silhouette form, somewhat taller than the average man. He wasn''t sure what was the most eye-catching feature of the individual: their sickly yellowish-green skin, their eighties cool biker teen attire with a black leather jacket included, the massive oily pompadour covered in gel that had to be longer than a forearm, or their disturbing face with an underbite so wide it left parts of their mouth and short pointy teeth exposed. Their eyes were wide yet short, or perhaps they just had a very good half-lidded face. They had nostrils but no nose and their slightly pointed ears diverged from those of the elves and goblins James was used to. Whereas those he knew pointed up or to the sides, those of this person curved to point down, almost looking like they were missing a piece despite the lack of scar tissue. The disfigured stereotype was checking a handheld mirror and brushing their hair while they waited for James, but as soon as the door opened they put those back in their pockets and turned to him with a toothy grin, uncaring of the way the pose they chose to take on showed the pink flesh of the exposed part of their mouth. When they began to speak, what came out was the perfect fusion of an even greater and sleazier car salesman voice than George Froko''s and of a parodical gangster, high but still notably masculine. "Eh! You''re that Silhouette guy, eh? Tchick, spooky as you are this must be the place!" "And you are?" "Mark Cooper, but call me Match. I''m da, how would you say? Ah, I''m the guy on the street in these parts, catch my drift? I''m da runner, the everyman, buyer, and seller! Tchick." James only understood about half of that, but he preferred to keep that to himself. "And you came to bother me because?" "Oh, oh, no need to get angry, see? I''m here to welcome you to the neighborhood. And, well, I heard about you needing some local help, so, here I am!" "Did Froko send you?" "Oh, nah. Georgie''s a goof, his problem ain''t mine. But I heard about what happened at Joe''s. It ain''t every day some Super shows up and throws their weight around. But, see, you talked it out. Last time someone went to a bar for that kind of mess, well, I lost some buddies. So, here I''m thinking, ''Match, would you rather have another insane tree hugger or weird wizard, or a guy who just wants to make money?'' So here I am, making sure you''re settling well." "You want me to stay to keep others away." "Eh eh yeah! See, you catch my drift! Tchick, it already ain''t easy making business whenever the Angels come to town, I don''t need Super messes to make things worse. So, here''s the deal: I tell you about what happens on the street, you let me and my friends hang around. No messing with each other''s business, everyone wins, eh?" "So long as you only knock at my door for important news." "Great! I knew someone who understood money would get it. Hey, here''s a freebie: some dude''s coming over to see ya. No idea who they are though, ain''t see them around. Creepy-looking, with a funny little hat." "Oh, would you be talking about me, dear? It''s quite rude to talk about people when they are here." Both the wannabe gangster and James looked in shock at the figure draped in black ornate robes standing next to them, even James'' inhuman senses failing to catch their presence before they spoke out from behind their pale avian mask that instantly reminded the former Earthling of a plague doctor. Match chuckled awkwardly as he took a few steps back before outright turning and running away, his long legs proving quite useful for a large and rapid gait that saw him out of sight in seconds. The chuckle that escaped the new uninvited guest was born out of genuine amusement for its part, with the person even holding up a black-gloved hand to their chin, the knuckle of the index as close to the mouth as possible with the massive beak in the way. "Ah, the enthusiasm of the youths. Now, I''m sorry to come by unannounced dear, but would you mind having a quick chat? Inside, preferably. There are things we both wish to keep quiet we must discuss." Deep down, James sighed, already missing the boring training of the morning. Chapter 139 : Yet more unwanted guests James sat at a small coffee table in the inner court of his facility, facing the mysterious person who had scared his previous unexpected visitor. Since they supposedly needed privacy he couldn''t just talk it out outside, and he figured they''d appreciate a comfy seat over just standing still. It wasn''t easy to spot through their black robes rimmed with silver, but from the way they walked when he accompanied them, it appeared they might have a hunched back, or a limp of some kind. The fact he couldn''t pierce through the clothing was shocking and worrying, so far his senses had been good enough that he at least guessed the shape of people no matter what they covered themselves with from the shade cast within their attire. There was no such phenomenon here. The overflowing dark cloth that covered their body confused him to the point he wasn''t even certain of their height, for all he knew that thing he thought was a lump could very well be an aesthetic choice of the outfit, like the spiky shoulders of some vests of old. The only thing he knew for certain was that they wore a white elongated mask with a beak-like protrusion over the nose and mouth, with black glasses embedded in the pristine material by silver bands, with an admittedly very silly little hat on top, the thing more befitting of a large doll than a person. Even then, he wasn''t fully convinced the mask wasn''t just a trick for the entity to appear more humanoid. He knew they had five-fingered hands, but everything else was a mystery. "Pardon me for being a poor host, we have yet to fully settle down and we weren''t ready for guests. Would you care for a collation? A drink, a snack perhaps?" "Oh, thank you dear, but that won''t be necessary. This nifty little thing on my face doesn''t permit nutrient intake, I''m afraid. Though I appreciate the thought, my dear Silhouette." "I see. It may seem rude, but may I ask exactly who are you? You seem to know me, yet we''ve never met, and I''m quite certain the people I know and trust would have warned me before sending a friend my way." "Oh, forgive me dear, I forgot to announce myself with that amusing youngster from earlier." The masked figure removed their hat and bowed the best they could on their seat, bending their back and lowering their head as their arm went to the side, hat still in hand. "You may call Mercury, alchemist extraordinaire." They chuckled as they put their tiny accessory back where it belonged. "As well as one of the councilmembers of Wicked Witchcraft." James felt a chill pass through him at that. He immediately prepared spells he kept hidden within himself as he got ready to vanish in the shadows and form tentacles to cut and stab the mage. "Ohohoh, do not worry dear. I am not here on cabal business. If I were, this entire street would already be blanketed in a cloud of flesh-eating miasma. No, I simply wish to discuss with you dear, a cordial meeting, nothing more, nothing less." "I imagine you''re still here because of what happened with Runar." "Quite. Worry not, though our professions were similar I held no love for the man. He was gifted with far more knowledge than most could ever hope to learn, but he failed to utilize it. This sentiment is shared by the others, none of us have a grudge against you, dear. Even the few who wished for a fight were looking for a chance to uphold our reputation, nothing more." "Well, that is good to know. If what my employees have told me is true, it was to the point you exiled him from the group, no?" "In all but name. He had grown to be too problematic for the well-being of our ongoing operations. But, I''m not here to talk about his disappearance or failures. I''m here to discuss your future, dear." "Is that a threat?" "Oh, goodness gracious, no! See, my compatriots failed to realize the true circumstances of your victory. I do not. Vanquishing a mage focused on the production of goods in their base of operation? We may be weaker than the element wielders and their lot, but are much better at defending our home. Had I been in Runar''s tragic place, I would be the one who vanished off the face of Terra Stellis." "I do not plan on attacking you if that is your worry." "I know dear, I know. I did my research. Call it a good habit from interacting with unstable ingredients so often. Besides, there is still a world of difference between attacking an outpost a few months old and attacking a lab that has stood for decades. But, I''m not here to talk about possible conflicts." The masked figure made a show of taking something out of their robes, going slowly and orienting their body so that James could clearly see it wasn''t a weapon they were holding, at least as far as he knew. Between the alchemist''s fingers was a small vial, half the size of a thumb, filled with a red liquid of some sort. "I am here to bring this small gift, a token of peace. See this as my way to distance myself from the actions of Runar, and the possible repercussions your actions may have on the rest of our cabal." "May I ask what is this potion?" "Oh, my pride and joy, the result of a lifetime''s work and then some. Tell me, dear, have you ever been worried about your lifespan? The curse of mortality, the ever-approaching end of the miracle that animates us, dragging us closer and closer to the whims of the divine, or the cold of the uncaring abyss of the void?" James was frozen by these words. He had never been one to worry about death back on Earth, and he saw the people who desperately searched for ways to live a little longer no matter the cost as a mixture of ridiculous, worrying, and pathetic. But what he heard coming from the alchemist''s mouth weren''t the claims of a snake-oil salesman, but a truth that echoed with his own experience. James knew death. The way he could feel his grasp on reality slowly loosening, the creeping cold of unconsciousness... Rare were those who clinically died and were brought back, at least on Earth, but even here on Terra Stellis people who truly died and then came back one way or another were few as far as he knew. The phenomenon was known, but it was nigh impossible without the right resources and meticulous preparations, resulting in the same handful of individuals being the only ones undergoing it. Zalcien''s censoring of the internet made research hard, but James had still done his best to look into a possible explanation as to the how and why of his reincarnation. That was without mentioning the other thing his interlocutor had said that plagued his mind. His lack of care regarding his lifespan then made sense, he was a healthy human and thus would likely go on for decades before he had to worry about major medical issues. Now? Now he occupied a body he knew nothing about, a body that might very well last for millennia or spontaneously explode a week from now. He would have to go to an expert to get any kind of diagnostic, but the fact he had access to all nine of the known Aspects made any encounter with such people highly dangerous, not to mention it hinted that his body was likely anomalous and thus even a well-meaning person could struggle to investigate. And his worries went further down the rabbit hole. He already knew most of his thinking and planning was limited to the short term, a habit from his days in the slums and his constant worries about attacks by Runar, and he had already resolved himself to fix it. Now? This pondering about his lifespan led him to think about what would his children and employees do if he were to die today. They''d have nothing, if anything those that he had infused, including his products, might die or be destroyed, leaving them with less than what they currently had. How would they bounce back from that? He needed to prepare now, to build enough of an empire that it could survive without him, and set up something so that the ratlings could have the best childhood possible, even with him gone. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. That didn''t mean he bought what the alchemist was telling. A safe gateway to immortality wouldn''t be so easily accessed by someone in what was supposed to be a dismissable city-state, and even as a token of goodwill giving so freely made no sense considering its value. No, either the mage was taking him for an idiot, or they wanted more than just staying on good terms. Either way, it was guaranteed this vial bore more troubles than it was worth. "I assume you mean to say this concoction will preserve one''s life." "Indeed, dear, indeed! Every dose rewinds the clock by a year for a month, and the effects are cumulative. Past that, the years lost come back without preemptively taking a second dose." "If a dose undoes aging by a year but only lasts a month, doesn''t that mean that users would be forced to turn themselves into children until they are but embryos to avoid turning into living mummies?" "I also sell aging potions dear, and those are permanent. Accelerating the passage of time is much easier than undoing it." "What of the side effects, aside from the consequences of missing a dose?" "None. However, altering the age of a body has consequences. Modifications such as the growth or loss of parts require nutrients and fluids to fuel the new body mass or its shedding. I already include enough in every vial to cover the shifting in a regular adult body, but a butterfly seeking to become a caterpillar once more or a child trying to skip puberty would do well to also buy some additional elixirs to prepare their bodies for heavy modifications." "Nothing else?" "Well, not a side effect to speak of, but there is a consequence to using this marvelous creation. As with all things the body learns to acclimate to it, and slowly grows more resistant to its effects. It isn''t an issue for the first decade of usage, but past that point, the initial month of effect slowly diminishes. Not all at once, it is a matter of hour per hour, but long-term use will eventually see those thirty days of effect become a mere handful. Not that many have reached that point outside of my test subjects." What Mercury just said sparked an idea in James'' mind, a conclusion he had subconsciously reached from context clues and only now realized. His memories were stirred, and he recalled how plague doctors didn''t wear avian masks for the aesthetic or some sort of symbol, they were effectively medical equipment. In the end of the hollow curved beak were placed items supposed to purify the air the person breathed in, protecting them from the mysterious illness that ravaged their world, unaware that the plague wasn''t airborne, and thus all they did was cover the smell of rotting corpses all around. The alchemist mentioning that their miraculous drug got less and less effective sparked James'' imagination. Did they too use this mask not for the look it gave them, but to be exposed to their creation constantly? If so, how long had they taken it to need a constant supply? How old were they? "Forgive me for saying this, but despite its flaws, I fail to see why you chose the criminal world with such a wondrous beverage at hand. Pharmaceutical companies would fight to have you on their team and sell a watered-down version of your potion. You could make millions, if not billions, without lifting a finger." "Oh, thank you dear, but alas, that is impossible. At this point, there is no leaving this unlawful life for me. Besides, some of my reagents and tests wouldn''t be fit for the common man, some are only available on the black market and impossible to obtain with the average morality and ethics of this day and age." "I doubt large corporations are as reluctant to dabble in forbidden items as you think." "I have clients among them, I know their lot better than you do dear. In any case, this vial comes free of charge, do as you wish with it. If you ever wish for more dear, directly contact me via my subordinates. I doubt the rest of the cabal would be open to dealing with Runar''s bane." "I thought they elected not to act against me?" "Because they believe you will die, dear." James felt a chill invade his very soul. This wasn''t the same kind of sensation as a threat, no. It was something much more primal, a foreboding feeling of danger that his body only now detected thanks to the alchemist''s words, as though James'' very being felt its impending doom approaching. "You see dear, Runar was an outcast in our community well before his falling out with the rest of the council, but there was one person who truly considered him a friend and vice versa. A little someone you might be familiar with, the beloved figurehead of our group. His degrading mental health has given us much leeway in our handling of everyday operations, but even his failing memory couldn''t stop his quest for vengeance. Well, I believe so. I left the meeting they told him the news, partly to warn you. If I am wrong, then there is nothing to fear. If not, well, you''ll find some use out of this." Another potion joined the first one on the table. This larger container, an Erlenmeyer whose shaft could be comfortably held by a single hand and closed off by a surprisingly mundane cork, was filled to the top of its conal part by an ephemeral pale blue mist. "A volatile elixir of distraction. A deceptively complex potion despite being among the simplest in the family of those that influence the mind. Its effects are much more banal than its conception would imply, it clears the brain of all non-vital thoughts for a short amount of time depending on the subject''s intelligence, from dozens of minutes to a handful of seconds. Many fail to see its utility, understandably so. After all, rabid beasts mostly act on instinctual vital needs, and sapient beings quickly recover and resume their thought process. It does prove wonderful when used on a damaged mind, however." He comes to warn me of a problem I can''t solve and gives me its solution. No, this is too good to be true. There is something else at play here. "You want me to use it on Abrakaboom when he comes for me, and somehow it''ll stop him from obliterating me. How, and why? Why do you risk the life of your guardian angel for a stranger who hasn''t agreed to any sort of commercial relationship yet?" "The how is simple. As I''ve explained it will interrupt all thinking not directly related to staying alive, and though his intellect will allow him to recover nigh-instantly, his damaged psyche will have forgotten his fury. It could be sparked again if he were to be reminded of Runar''s disappearance, or it could very well permanently erase all wishes to avenge his fallen friend. As for the why?" The masked figure leaned forward on their seat and whispered the next few sentences carefully. "I am a survivor, dear. Wicked Witchcraft''s clock is ticking, and I am proud to be among the rats that will flee the sinking ship to live another day. They are not the first group I join, and they won''t be the last. I am simply taking measures to ensure there will be something for me when they are gone. Do not think I placed all my eggs in a single basket though dear, you are not the only noteworthy man in this city, simply the only one I had no contact with yet." "You plan on betraying your comrades, and you share this plan with those looking for trustworthy companions? I think there might be something off with your methods." "I will not betray the cabal. I will help them until the bitter end, or at least until it seems defeat is inevitable. I merely wish to spare you from the hysteric wrath of a man whose mind is already halfway gone yet has the power to make the greatest Heroes of this city tremble in their boots. Should the rest elect to have you killed, though I will refuse to involve myself, I will not stand in their way either. They know me well, dear, and I am upfront with my every move. The cabal will fall anyway, Abrakaboom only has so much time left before even his magic fails to keep him active, and at that point, there is nothing we can do to defend ourselves from the righteous fury of the many enemies we have made." They rose from their seat and bowed once more. "I hope you fare well in your encounter with the greatest mage this city has seen. May we meet again dear, either as allies or buyer and seller." A vial fell from their robes and shattered against the ground, producing a puff of smoke that covered them. Much like the alchemist''s robes their concoction hid everything from James'' senses, though he wasn''t surprised to see they were gone by the time the gas disappeared. He hadn''t expected to meet any of the important players in Zalcien aside from Blake Black so soon, but at least he was lucky enough this one came here in peace. Sadly, they also warned of a much more famous power and one with less friendly intentions. James had no illusion of somehow being able to fend off a man who could make Heroes trained to handle powerful Villains run around in circles. He struggled against Runar, and apparently, he was essentially a nobody compared to the rest of the magical criminal group he came from, at least relative to the other leaders. He couldn''t take everything his unplanned guest said at face value, even though it tended to align with the information his people had managed to gather. As for potential moral or safety quandaries concerning using the deus ex machina potion he had been offered, he had none. If one of the strongest Villains in the city came looking for a fight, there was no way he could survive with his powers alone, and the same went for his base. There was no need to turn that potion into a trap since he was guaranteed to die without it. The only thing he could reasonably come up with was some kind of mind control, and even then he''d take that over death. He could always try to fight chains trapping his mind, he couldn''t escape death, not a second time. As for the ethics of taking advantage of an old man''s dementia or similar mental decay? He had no issue with it when the same old man could raze city blocks with a flick of a wrist and was deadset on killing him. Allegedly. So far, he had yet to see any proof of the mage wishing him harm. "SILHOUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTE!" Chapter 140 : Abrakaboom, wind of destruction James could feel his entire mass shake before he even heard the detonations that echoed across the city. The booming sounds drew closer and closer until they were deafening and he could visually notice the way the very air rippled from their sheer power. He readied his shadows and hid the vials Mercury the alchemist had gifted him, just in time for his senses to finally peek through the disturbances and finally see the man whose ire he''d drawn. On many accounts, Abrakaboom looked exactly like you''d expect someone with such an alias would. There was an undeniable silliness to the mage''s attire, a clear exaggeration of a stereotypical magic show magician outfit with an explosive theme that suited his usually bombastic personality. The best example of this combination of these themes was the thing resting upon his head, a tophat fit for summoning bunnies that had been modified to imitate a mushroom cloud from a nuclear explosion, the piece of clothing perhaps owning its dark grey coloration to the rains of soot and ashes it had been exposed to over the years rather than a purposeful design choice. The tailcoat the old man wore was just as flamboyant yet monochrome, though the fact it was singed on all of its extremities hinted that it might have been bigger or longer once, with the pants following the same pattern. Those burn marks were notably still glowing in various colors, not simply the orange of cinders but also much more unnatural ones such as pink and green. The general color of the cloth seemed to have once been white judging by some of the more protected areas such as the inside of the elbows, but much like the hat had been greyed by decades of exposure to explosions, though not as uniformly as the thing upon the wizard''s head, resulting in a gradient that appeared to highlight marks of past detonations. The attire was finished off by a pair of nigh-black gloves, so drenched in dry soot and charcoal that one had to wonder how they could move without cracking or leaving residue everywhere. The sole exception to the dirtiness was a trio of white lines on the back of each hand, not simply spots spared by the remnants of the mage''s actions but bumps sewn into the accessories'' design. Truly, the man''s aesthetic matched his fiery personality, that of an enthusiastic and theatrical enjoyer of all that went boom. Sadly, his face did not match the usual childlike glee and cheekiness that marked his features in all photos of him James had spotted throughout the various times he had studied the city''s current events and major actors. No, the man''s visage was much more worrying. The incredibly wrinkly angular face of the man usually likened to a lively grandpa, had become a terrifying grimace alongside the long white frowning eyebrows that rested above his dark eyes, filled not with a desire for mischief but dreadful wrath. The facial hair above his lip that any mustache-twirling villain would dream of and the goatee of his pointy chin reminded James of those stereotypical villains from old stories. For the first time in his life, now that he was the victim-to-be, he realized the true terror of seeing such a face while tied to train tracks that spelled certain doom. The man flew through the air, not like a bird of prey but a missile about to destroy a target. Detonations followed in his wake, as though he was shattering the sound barrier every second. With a final powerful burst of air that sent the furniture James and the alchemist had been sitting at flying, the mage dropped down from the sky. At the last second another burst of nothing beneath his feet stopped his fall, canceling all momentum and letting him land safely. He began to walk towards James, not bothering to bend the knee as he advanced faster than a man his age and with his physique should. He adjusted his gloves all the while, and his aquiline stare never left James. "Mister Abrakaboo-" Pain filled James'' mind just as gold filled his vision. Luckily he was used to fighting off the debilitating effects of agony from his experience with Sydakors, and he managed to focus back on his surroundings fast enough to realize what had happened. The wizard''s arm was stretched in his direction, his hand''s palm to the sky while his index pointed at James'' black mass. Fading away from existence were yellow sparkles, and already moving back to merge with his body were shredded pieces of solid shadows that had once been part of James spread about everywhere. It was at this point James realized he was missing his head. Thankfully it served no purpose in his case, being purely cosmetic and to aid when dealing with humanoids, but still. Tendrils of darkness erupted from the ground and went after the magician, but were easily battered away and disintegrated by a flick of the wrist that summoned a tornado of miniature fireworks. Each spark burned away at James and hurt him more than most things in either of his two lives ever had. A flow of black magic rose from his soul and began to take shape to protect him against the destructive man and retaliate, only for a transparent colorless explosion to send James flying and ruin every single spell he had been making. James melted into the ground as a shadow, only for the magic-covered foot of the old man to stomp on him and cause a detonation that projected him out and onto a wall, cracks forming from the impact. He tried to take advantage of the opportunity and climb up, even using his new unfinished technique and partially turning into a light gas to float away as fast as possible. A roar of flames and kinetic power from above sent him back down. The cycle kept repeating itself. Every time James attempted to do anything, something would put an end to it and hurt him. It was clear to him that Abrakaboom could have easily killed him by now if he truly wanted to. This whole charade was just the wizard''s way of taking out his anger on something, and it was clear he was doing his best to hold back his punches to make sure James would be fine being treated as a punching bag for a little while longer. It wasn''t like doing nothing was any more effective either. When he tried to freeze in the hope the mage would pause the onslaught of attacks, the only response he got was another explosion similar to the first one, golden light harming him more than any of the other deflagrations. The message was clear: either he played along and tried to resist, or it would hurt even more. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Fight or flight, get blown up, repeat. Fight or flight, get blown up, repeat. Fight or flight, get blown up, repeat. It went on and on. James'' usual strategy of preparing a strong attack while struggling against an enemy was completely denied by whatever trick Abrakaboom had up his sleeve that ruined every spell he tried to prepare or the more instinctual shadow attacks he attempted to unleash. He had no idea how long it lasted. One moment he was flying through the air, feeling not the wind on his body but the aching of his burned being, the next he was beneath the sole of the magician''s shoe, the wizard crouching to look down at the black puddle James had become. "You''re more durable than the other kids." James was about to respond, but before he could voice any syllable he felt a terrible fizzling spread through his being. "When I heard about what happened... About Runar..." The mage''s eyes gazed into nothing as his right hand slowly went over his heart shaking all the while. "He was my oldest friend. The straight man to my shenanigans. I could feel my world fall apart, like a house of cards victim to nitroglycerin." Abrakaboom focused back on the present. "I wanted to blow you up until there were more pieces of you than there are stars in the sky, lad. Itty bitty pieces, still alive, still burning, healthy enough only to stay alive and regenerate to compensate for the constant ongoing damage. An eternity of nothing but agony, with barely enough sense of self to realize what''s going on." The manic look on his face was more off-putting than the pain, only for it to fall apart and reveal the tired old man beneath the magic and flair. "But I know Runar. How stubborn he was. Bah, for all his finesse and etiquette, he was more of a charging bull than I am. You got his attention for some reason, and after that, there was no getting rid of him. It''s how we became friends, ya know? I was the weird kid, but he was the one who treated me like a science project and did all he could to hang around and study me. He was around, so he became my go-to whenever I needed feedback. It was the good old days..." He smiled and chuckled, overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia, barely aware of James beneath him. "Oh, like that time I made a tree grow in the pipes of the bathroom, roots exploding out of everything... Oh, that time he lent me a hand and made a rune to attract stinky bombs! ohohoh, that one was fine. And that Philbert kid deserved it. His look was priceless! Oh, and how his glasses reeked for weeks before he got a new pair!" The chuckle turned into full-blown laughter, and James realized he somehow still had his gloopiness wrapped around the blue potion he had been given to hopefully make Abrakaboom forget his grudge. He wasn''t certain of how distracted the man stomping him down was though, and thus elected to wait a little longer. "Oh! Oh! That day everything was so hot, so I cast a ritual of Winter''s Wrath! Oh, the way frost clung at the windows and snow filled the room... We made a few snowmen and still were in it up to the knees..." The wizard''s eyes turned glassier and glassier, lost in a rabbit hole of pleasant memories. James took his chance. His body turned more solid around the Erlenmeyer to pop off the cork and- A dark grey glove picked the volatile elixir of distraction from his black jelly body, uncaring of the way pieces of the solidified shadows fell off. The mage brought the concoction to his face to take a closer look. "Yup, that''s Mercury-made juice, alright." Abrakaboom popped his lips, and the thing in his hand disintegrated, puffing out of existence in a small cloud of fading dust. "Sneaky, eh? But how rude of you to treat me like one of those droning grandpas." The man''s weight on James suddenly became a lot heavier. "I do like someone who tries, though. Eh, a boneless shadow has more of a spine than the two second greatest Villains in this city. Oh, that''s funny." James could feel the hot breath of the wizard on him, and smell it too. He suddenly developed a lot more pity for nurses in retirement homes who complained about the smell of old people. "But, like I was saying lad, I know Runar. The bootlicking dotards of the cabal may think I''m an idiot, but I still bothered to read what they knew about you. It''s that foolish genius that begun the fight, uh?" He stayed silent, and James realized for the first time since their encounter began he was allowed to talk. "He sent people after me, I beat them and ignored it." "Uh uh." "He did it again, and Blake Black intervened." "Oh, I heard that one!" "He sent a knight and a bomb to my warehouse. I told him to stop." "He didn''t?" "He didn''t say he would, so I went to his base for a change. We gave him a chance to surrender, beat his knights, and told him to give up again." "He didn''t." "I sabotaged his teleportation crystal. I knew he''d try again if he ran away. As expected, he tried." "Tut, wait, wait... You beat him because he tried to flee, yes?" "I won the fight, but my sabotage ensured he wouldn''t try again." "And that, you did it with your Transformation, yes?" "How do you-" "Kid, lad, buddy, I''m Abrakaboom. I can feel the constant bubbling of change in your cells as they keep on recycling themselves. So, you corrupted that crystal or not?" "...Yes." "Now, here comes the important part. Don''t lie to me, lad. Can you still feel him?" "Yes. I don''t know where he is, though, and we can''t communicate." The magician let out a sigh as he got back up. He stayed silent after that, only mindlessly dusting his clothes for what felt like an eternity. "That''s better than nothing. You''re lucky, lad." The old man walked off from the puddle James had become, though he did take the time to drag his shoes to clean them off. "You''re mostly a shadow kinda guy, so that narrows things somewhat. Still, ugh, looking through the elemental planes and the abyss will be a pain. Maybe I''ll drop by his family, his folks should have something to track him on hand." The wizard took off his hat before plunging his arm deep inside, wriggling it around despite the impossibility of his entire limb fitting in the accessory despite its size. "Nice work on the shadow show, by the way. That pillar of darkness thingy? Loved it, eye-catching yet effective, with the right amount of gravitas to take center stage. Not a big fan of the whole using it on my best friend part but eh, nobody''s perfect. I hope for you that you''ll get better at it soon, because if I can''t bring my best bud back..." He pulled out a deck of cards and quickly looked through it, his hands moving faster than what should be humanly possible. "There''ll be more pieces of you than atoms in the universe. Toodles!" He ripped a card in half and vanished in a flash, leaving a very confused, hurt, and bruised James behind. The reincarnated pizza delivery boy briefly felt he needed a moment to fully return to reality, struggling to understand what had just happened or how he even felt about it. Seconds later he couldn''t feel anything, his mind far too busy processing everything. Had he been more aware, he might have drawn a similarity to an old computer blue screening, such as that one bizarre robot the ratlings had battled in the Sunken City. Or perhaps his fear would have overwhelmed his ability to think rational thoughts for a short while. At this point, there was no way to know, and by the time he''d be aligned with existence once more, he''d likely have subconsciously gotten over the brunt of the event. James'' fading connection to the world around him pulled him back when one of his Infused mentally signaled yet more people knocking at his door. Had he been more mentally present, James might have refused them, sending them off via his guards. Now, however? All he could do was go with the flow. Deep, deep within his shaken psyche, was a faint echo. Why can I never get a break? Chapter 141 : As seen on TV A dapper man in a dark green suit ran through the street, his remarkable speed and posture not matching his distinguished look, though a closer look at his attire would reveal the way it subtly highlighted his physique. Following on his trail was a woman wearing blue overalls and carrying a large camera on her shoulder, a glowing halo of golden light floating above her curly ginger hair with a second of latency due to her mad sprint. "Victor, wait a darn second you musclehead!" "I can feel it, Vicky! This is a big scoop in the making!" "You say that every time you doofus!" The reporter just laughed her remark off, his shining pristine teeth almost blinding her when he did that stupid smile of his. She groaned as she pushed herself to catch up to him, but already she could her muscles struggling to keep up and her lungs drawing less and less air with each breath. "I swear Vic, if we die, I''m gonna kill you." "Oh, that''d be great news! ''Ghost of camerawoman murders the specter of her former reporter partner''!" "Can you think with your brain instead of your journalistic ego for a single second?" "Of course! Otherwise, how else would I know about our guy? You made sure to hit record, by the way, right?" She grumbled as thought back to why the two of them were here. Victor''s informants had passed the word that some new Super was setting up shop in the area, quite literally if what they said was true. Victor had smelled a scoop, as he tended to, and as she always she hated to admit he was right to think there might be something worth sharing going on. The arrival and appearance of this new mystery man matched those of some new local power in the slums, one linked to the pillar of darkness that had sent the city into a frenzy some time ago. Supers putting on a show wasn''t new, but the novelty of the phenomenon came from its uniqueness. People were used to metal hordes, explosions, flames, and even rampaging plants, but shadows? No one had dealt with those yet, at least not at this scale. A new Super in the city opening a store of some sort after coming from the slums was already worth investigating, it was why they were on their way here in the first place, but now? The telltale signs of Abrakaboom making a ruckus were hard to miss, and the fact the mage who rarely initiated fights was attacking this newcomer was intriguing, doubly so when it lacked the usual grandiose and flair of his hits. Not only that but judging by how long this had been going on, it looked like the newcomer actually managed to stand their ground. For now, at least. Before long the pair reached 123 Blackrose Street, the address their initial target had turned into their domain. A former car factory that had never been fully operational and that the mysterious Silhouette seemingly planned on repurposing. From what they managed to get from their contacts regarding the rumors in the slums, the Super was likely going to produce and sell items meant for self-defense, a market they had both researched for the occasion. Victor needed the information for his interview of course, and Vicky for her part liked to double-check the background of anyone her cousin and colleague messed with. His enthusiasm had led him to try contacting people she''d rather not let him face. He may have an incredible talent for journalism, but she had twice that in her remarkable ability to keep him alive. If only her paycheck reflected that. Now that they stood before the frontmost building of the property, the one sandwiched between two walls connecting it to the neighboring addresses to keep the courtyard they knew lay behind from checking old plans of the place, they both realized the roaring sound of explosions had ceased now. Vicky turned her head in hopes of sharing a look with her partner that would lead them to leave, but alas, her worried eyes only met his ear as he adjusted his haircut before knocking. Her fear quickly made way for annoyance. They were both surprised to see the door promptly open, a person in black combat gear watching them from the other side, their hand still on the handle while the other held a weapon. It might not have been aimed at them, but if anything it made the message clearer and more worrisome: someone who bothered with trigger safety wasn''t a random gangster with no experience. "Hello there! I''m Victor Vikingson, and this is Vicky Vikingson. We are here on behalf of Zalcien Views on VictoryTV, would it be possible to meet Mister Silhouette?" The guard stayed silent before slowly closing the door. The reporter and his camerawoman truly exchanged glances this time, though now she was the optimistic one, glad they wouldn''t have to deal with armed forces today, while he couldn''t keep the disappointment from his face. It might have seemed unprofessional, but she knew their editors wouldn''t include this footage in those shown by their show if they chose to keep their investigation in the first place. Well, they were only one of the teams for the news broadcast, it wasn''t like they were the stars there. "Well, looks like we''re back to square one. Don''t worry Vic, I''m sure they''ll understand. Not every piece of news is a scoop." "Yeah, but... Man, my journalist senses were tingling and everything." "Dude, neither of us is Cored. You don''t have any special power." "Instinct, Vicky! I''m talking of instinct, not cheating with magic and stuff." "Sure... Now, can we skedaddle out of here before Abrakaboom decides to split an atom or two?" "Yeah, yeah. I just..." The door opened once again, but this time, it wasn''t the faceless helmet of a guard that met them. The thing in the doorway was only barely humanoid, and the main reason the qualifier was adequate was the fact there were no other features aside from its head and barely qualifiable torso. It was essentially an oval on a triangle, and yet so much more. The way its shoulders rose into spikes, how its body thinned down until it became one with a pool of undulating shadows on the ground, how even bathed in the sunlight it was impossible to determine any kind of detail or texture, only appearing as a single black mass, like a vaguely person-shaped hole in reality... Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "Ah, you must be Mister Silhouette! Victor Vikingson, glad to meet you. I''m here on behalf of Zalcien Views from VictoryTV, would you be available for an interview?" "Make it quick. I have explosion damages to repair." "Of course! Say, could we come inside for a bit? It''d be a better backdrop than out in the street, don''t you think so Vicky?" "Yeah..." "I believe a street will make for a more enjoyable view than an empty store." "Maybe your office-" "Here, or nothing." "Very well, here it is! First, could you introduce yourself to our viewers at home?" "Is this live?" "No, but we are recording. We are recording, right?" Vicky nodded without moving the camera. "I am Silhouette. I am an entrepreneur, and this is my shop. It is still being prepared, but soon the inhabitants of Zalcien will be free to purview our wares." Vicky knew better than to comment on the fact they had found no trace of the necessary paperwork for such a venture. Not only would it risk angering their host, but she was just the camerawoman. If someone had to be stupid and talk about dangerous stuff, it would be Victor. "What is the name of your store?" "I initially planned on calling it the Black Boutique, but the reputation of the banking family made me reconsider. A shame, I quite liked the alliteration. Instead, what you see is the soon-to-be Penumbral Palace." "And what could our good citizens expect to buy?" "We mostly dabble in items meant for personal safety. Non-lethal weaponry like batons and electroguns, and defensive objects such as electromagnetic shields, for example. We are currently experimenting to provide reinforced clothing, as well. We will also provide a service to recharge batteries, so long as it does violate the conditions of utilization of the item in question." "I''m sure people will love to know there''s one more person out there trying to make sure they are safe. Did anything in particular spark this specific interest?" "I believe this city suffers from troublesome problems with armed ruffians. I wished to provide its citizens with the means of protecting themselves without also helping its malevolent elements to acquire a more dangerous arsenal. By ensuring every item we sell is incapable of lethal damage, we avoid the escalation of violence most weapons manufacturers cause." "Aren''t you afraid some criminals might still use your products, possibly against the police or even the Union?" "It is possible. Much like silverware companies cannot guarantee a knife will never be used in a murder, so goes for my goods. But we have taken every measure we could. I am even willing to provide the police the means to disable our products if they so wish, but I for one am much more worried about this ending up in the wrong hands than a mere baton. As for the Union, I doubt Heroes or Villains would face any difficulty with them. Something able to take down such forces of nature should never be obtainable to the masses, for they are tools of war." A very small grin formed on the reporter''s face. Politics have always been a popular topic, and even those interested in this Penumbral Palace would probably pause to take a look. "That''s an interesting opinion, Mister Silhouette. Wouldn''t that mean the people have to be fully dependent on the Union?" "I am in no place to dictate the direction society should take. I simply wish to give those who have nothing the basics to defend themselves. They do not need weapons capable of freezing entire streets to protect themselves and their families, yet those are the bare minimum required to handle those like Sunburn. As for any sort of toxic dependency on Heroes choices like mine cause, there is a reason why the Union is heavily scrutinized by their hierarchy and the government as a whole, is there not? There are undeniable opportunities for abuse of power, but this should be handled by their colleagues and superiors. If those fail to uphold their duty, then the entire organization needs to be cleared out. But those are not matters that should be handled by businessmen like me, nor should the first solution people settle on be to bring out the death rays and doomsday devices." Unseen behind her camera, Vicky nodded. Loath as she was to agree to whatever a shady dude was saying, she couldn''t deny he had a point. Hell, she was certain Victor would be the first in line to do stupid stuff if he got his hands on some of those gadgets. Well, stupider stuff. Like, try to interview Noir Black by bypassing all of his security measures. And she''d have to tag along. She shuddered, though it didn''t affect the recording. She was a professional, she knew how to keep her body language away from her job. "So, you are of the opinion the Union should be treated as another branch of the police or military?" "Is it not already their role? After all, the only difference between a Hero and a Cored officer is the threat their target poses. I understand some Heroes do not take part in the capes and cowls game or simply prefer emergency work, but they are still trained to defend themselves against opponents the average cop will never have to face. I am a newcomer to Zalcien and as such am not fully aware of any controversial event, but if there are problems in the city''s armed forces what is needed is stricter regulations, not an angry mob armed to wipe out armies." "Would you be willing to tell us where you come from? It''s not every day a new business opens without a local in charge." "I will not." Victor frowned a little but kept it at that, and overall stayed friendly. "Very well. Since you have yet to open, may I ask if you already have a full staff prepared or will you perhaps be looking for new hires?" "I would be more than happy to welcome new employees, though we are rather careful with who we take on. Those who will manage the shop have already been selected, and they will have the right to veto any they deem unfit to help in the store. For maintenance and research, I will follow the words of our expert, Doctor Decanov." "Ivan Decanov?" "The very same." "You are aware of his reputation, right?" "I am. The good doctor has yet to pose any sort of problem, and I trust his work. He is currently on contract for only a handful of jobs, but we have talked about the possibility of a long-term position." "Very well. You mentioned open positions for the store, could you elaborate?" "Of course. Stocking, cleaning, assisting the clientele, operating the cash register... If things go well, we might open additional locations in other spots in the city, and those would need to be manned too." "What of the rest of the facility? There is more than a store yet, no?" "Yes, but I prefer to stay silent for now. Corporate espionage is a blight I would much rather avoid. I prefer to keep my secrets that way." "Could we see some of your products?" "I will have one of my employees fetch some. Who am I to deny free advertisement?" "Oh, in the meantime, could we discuss what just happened? We heard explosions on our way here." "Nothing of importance." Vicky rolled her eyes. Nothing of importance? The inhabitants of Zalcien were familiar enough with Abrakaboom to recognize the wizard''s work, even as messy as explosions were. If one of the three biggest Villains in Zalcien was interested in this place, there was definitely more than met the eye. Perhaps even things that the Union wouldn''t approve of. Terrible things. Oh well, that stuff wasn''t her job. If anyone watching their investigation got themself in a pickle, that wasn''t her problem. She already had one idiot to take care of, and that was more than enough. Chapter 142 : Preparations for things to come Blake Black, manager of Zalcien''s branch of the Black, one of the countless heirs of one of the most infamous cursed families, was currently loudly chewing popcorn scooped up from a bowl placed on his lap, his back and behind resting on the devilishly comfortable throne-like seat of his desk, turned to face the hybrid of a magic mirror and screen that occupied all of one of the four walls of his office. The said wall was currently displaying VictoryTV, one of the local channels, more specifically their broadcast Zalcien Views. The black humanoid on the screen was impossible to miss, and even harder to misidentify for those familiar with him. "Ah, Silhouette made a name of himself earlier than I thought." The celestial entity standing next to him, a creature twice as tall as he was standing with porcelain-like skin covered by a white toga and wings of silver feathers, spoke up. "Should this be considered as a setback to your plan, master?" The young heir turned to his faceless assistant with a smile as he shook his head. "No, do not worry, Nanyet. Our new friend making waves was expected, and if anything getting in the good graces of the media is a wonderful thing. It''s hard to label someone as a bloodthirsty monster when they''re willing to have an interview." "I believe many would agree to call Sir Sylvester such a thing, and yet he was gladly accepting to discuss with journalists." "I said it was hard, not impossible. Besides, you know what I meant: this is proof Silhouette isn''t a beast, but a person. That goes a long way, trust me." "If you say so, master." "Not to mention, people will now believe he was about to repel Abrakaboom, one way or another. That should be enough to keep the petty criminals at bay for a while, and to worry the big shots enough to wait a little longer to see if it was a fluke." "Was it, master?" "Well... Alright, I knew he would try something, and I knew despite his mental state he''d be intelligent enough to prioritize saving his missing friend over ending our shadowy friend. I didn''t think he''d make such a show of teaching Silhouette a lesson though. Not that it matters, few are those who could rightly guess what happened." "I cannot deny the sense of curiosity that comes to mind regarding Silhouette''s thoughts on the matter. Do you not fear he might see the lack of assistance as a betrayal on your part?" The Black shrugged before throwing a single piece from his bowl into his mouth. "Eh, he''s smart enough to know I couldn''t do much. I already gave him the lecture about power plays back on that day on the Block. I already have to go faster in greasing hands for his business thanks to that TV stunt, I''ll throw him something nice in as well. What I''m more worried about is the little bird that put their beak where they shouldn''t." "The alchemist. They are intriguing. They chose to ally with the enemy of their group, and yet there was no retaliation, no doubt." "Mercury is a tricky one. I can''t do much against them, we are one of their contracted proxies after all. I can''t cut ties or taunt them into doing it without serious repercussions, not to mention the angry clients that would follow suit. As for Wicked Witchcraft, they won''t do anything to their golden goose. They need that elixir of youth. At worst, they''ll keep the alchemist confined to their lab for a while, but they won''t have the manpower to keep doing that for long." "The Hivines and the Empress'' machines have already begun moving, forcing the wielders of magic to revise their resource usage. But what is it you worry might happen, master? The alchemist has yet to betray their own, aside from their preparations for new accommodations when the end comes." Blake picked up an unpopped kernel from the bowl with a scowl, and gently threw it to the towering celestial who easily caught it in one of their hands. "That old bird has been around for too long. You don''t get to survive stuff like that multiple times by being a good fellow, especially not alone." Nanyet lifted the solid piece of plant life to the halo of flowing mercury above their featureless head and let it drop in the moving liquid metal. "You fear they have ulterior motives." "I know they do. What I''m afraid of is how necessary Silhouette being alive and free is to their scheme."
Mercury, alchemist extraordinaire, observed the fantastical sight before them. Here, deep underground, surrounded by pipes of all sizes and materials, including some translucent enough to reveal the colorful liquids and gasses running through them, they were free to do as they pleased. This small section of their greater lab was off-limits to the unauthorized, only their most trusted assistants and workers were allowed to gaze upon the master of potions'' latest experiment. Those they knew for a fact wouldn''t dream of betraying them, and not even the other members of the cabal''s council couldn''t sway them. Speaking of, the scientist could feel the telltale sign of mana gathering close by, not for a spell, but for a specific being to take shape. They called out to one of those standing in the room alongside them and ordered the worker to go fetch their guest from the only place in the entire complex capable of letting them teleport through. None of the others questioned the order and simply obeyed when their leader had them obfuscate the glass they had been viewing their latest project through. Before long, the human dressed in white clothes came back, accompanied by a being composed of transparent blue light taking on a human shape, though devoid of details other than the simplistic silhouette. "Ether, it is always a pleasure to you dear." "Get your interns out of here." "Of course, of course. We will continue this discussion alone, everyone." The workers complied, simply bowing to their masked superior before leaving the two behind. "We need to talk, Mercury." "Indeed!" "We can''t find Abrakaboom. He doesn''t register on any of our detectors. And that Silhouette guy is still alive, and talked to journalists." If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "I am aware. Contrary to popular belief, I know how to operate more than alchemy equipment and am familiar with moving picture shows." "Now isn''t the time for messing around, Mercury. We know you went to see that shadow guy." "I do believe I made my intent rather clear when I left our last meeting, yes." "The others are worried you gave him something to use against Abrakaboom. Something that worked." "Ether, dear, if I had the means to strike down foes on the same level as our beloved figurehead, we wouldn''t need him in the first place. All I gave our dark friend was a free sample of my de-aging elixir and a simple brew that would at worst erase the drive for vengeance of the pyromaniac. Besides, failing to locate someone doesn''t equal their demise dear." The aethereal being paused. "You said something like that about Runar. You know what''s going on." "I had a little theory. Abrakaboom''s disappearance leads me to believe I was right." "Mercury, stop with the riddles. We need to know what''s going on." "Runar was a survivor. He wasn''t the sort of fellow to fight to the bitter end. Either he was killed before he could flee, or he used one of those teleportation crystals he took with him when he left. All of his holdings are in Zalcien, so the fact he hasn''t reemerged yet leads me to think he was either too weakened, or his escape was sabotaged. Ether, dear, you are the expert here. What are the consequences of meddling with a teleportation crystal before usage?" The humanoid of light took a step back out of shock. "Runar got displaced, and Abrakaboom went looking for him." "Exactly! His visit to Silhouette was merely a way to vent his frustration and verify this line of thought. By now he''s probably on some grand quest between the realms and dimensions to find his lost friend." "Which means we''re defenseless. The Empress and the Biflora are going to annihilate us." "Do not forget the Blood Angels and the other upstarts, dear! However, it will take some time before a true extermination campaign begins. It wouldn''t be the first time our beloved exploding enthusiast becomes discreet for an extended period, and we still would put up enough of a fight to weaken any attacking party enough for them to become easy prey for the others. They will wait to be sure he is truly gone and for our members to realize this and run." The echoey voice of Ether rang out with an accusatory tone. "Like you are doing now?" The alchemist looked at their colleague in silence before chuckling. "Ether, dear. You all knew me before I joined this merry band. I am as much of a survivor as Runar. Wicked Witchcraft will fall, and I am preparing my future in accordance. Tell me, do you truly wish to lay down your life for them? Or would you rather join me for a brighter future?" "I don''t need your potions." "I know, dear, I know. It simply means we can work on equal footing, no dependency on either side." "What of the others? You''d leave them to die?" "Dear, they are free to make their own choices. I simply offer to keep collaborating once this cabal is done. Besides, you are the most sensible one of the lot. You do not have that lust for power the others share, nor that greed. We are both creators, ever seeking to improve our craft and reach greater heights." "..." "You are free to refuse now and reconsider later dear. We both have the lifespan to afford some time to think." "Does your offer extend to the others too?" "I won''t push away those who wish to continue working together. I simply won''t offer the same degree of trust as I show you, dear." "I didn''t know you thought so highly of me, Mercury. "Oh, dear, you are far too harsh on yourself. Say, I have a little something I could show as a token of trust, so long as it is kept secret." Ether''s curiosity was picked, especially now after the alchemist''s praises. And, as unhinged as they could be, they rarely disappointed with their works. "Fine. What is it?" The masked figure chuckled in their robe before stepping to the side and pulling down a lever. In turn, the veil that had robbed the wall of glass before the duo of its translucence disappeared, revealing what lay on the other side. The being of light''s hand went to cover a non-existent mouth, magical senses running wild at the discovery of what Mercury wished to show. There, in a different room, was a small black something. A wriggling shadow escaping from the ground to become a solid something, like a worm digging through layers of reality. It was minuscule, barely the length of a teen''s pinkie finger, and yet its Aspects shone through the glass: each of those nine primordial forces was present in this little creature, a feat that even the greatest minds thought impossible. It simply dangled from the ground, dancing to a random pattern without any thought distinguishable or logic. It also reeked of dark energies, its shadow mana potent enough for Ether to struggle differentiating it from the thing''s physical body. "Mercury, what the hell is that?" "I would love to claim it as my work, but it would be nothing but deception on my part. This, dear, is a sample I recovered during my visit, more specifically while our beloved Abrakaboom was busy having fun with his detonations." "Silhouette." "Indeed! I am quite curious as to the identity of his creator, but it wouldn''t do to inquire now. The grown specimen has not fully mastered its abilities, but it shares the same potential as this figment. Well, they are technically one and the same. Were it not for the ego-affecting enchantments laid about, it would still be trying to reunite with the rest of his body. I am currently working on a way to discriminate it from the rest of his soul after a small incident in a cloning test, but even if we should fail, well... There are more applications for such a discovery than clones and homunculi, no?" Ether couldn''t look away from the black thing mindlessly wiggling in the other room. "Do you see now, dear? Change is on the horizon, and this, this is our guarantee of a brighter tomorrow."
As he finished watching the little reportage about him those journalists put together, James only had one thing in mind. I just hope this doesn''t bring unwanted attention. After surviving his encounter with Abrakaboom, he wasn''t all there. The experience was incredibly taxing, and he had been knocked for at least a day after the duo left, having only woken up an hour earlier, that short time being spent reassuring his children and catching up on what his forces had been up to without him. Not much, admittedly, without any ongoing war with a crime lord things were rather simple. Well, while he would have preferred being more clear-headed to handle any interview, and although he likely would have asked his two visitors to come back later down the line when he was better prepared, he wasn''t fully unsatisfied with his performance. He sounded more cold than confident, and he couldn''t deny that he looked rather suspicious on the screen. Still, he didn''t come across as threatening, and hopefully, people would be curious enough about his wares to come and take a look once he opened. Happy customers would then go on to be much better advertisers than he was. He was a pizza delivery boy in his previous life, not a marketing expert. Well, journalism aside, James also had to look back on his encounter with one of the three most powerful Villains in Zalcien: Abrakaboom, supposedly the greatest wizard in town. He had toyed with him with ease and even the deus ex machina he had been given by his unsettling would-be ally had done nothing. Hell, even the primitive immortality potion he had been gifted had been destroyed in the fight, if the beatdown could be called a fight at all. Not that he would have risked using the concoction in the first place. The dependency it created, if everything he had been told was true, was enough to make him distrust it, and he had no doubt there was more that went unsaid. He wasn''t about to trust the magic drink a stranger gave him, doubly so when said stranger was also an important figure in a criminal organization, no matter how polite they had been when they met. To go back to the fight itself, he considered himself lucky there had been no damage to his soul. Getting blown up over and over was a painful experience, but at least after a long rest, everything was fine. He wondered if this result was because the mage did not share the ability to damage the mind and soul the demon Sydakors had, or if perhaps Abrakaboom had been sparing him. Considering the fact the most agonizing strikes were those flashes of light he only used on James when he stopped trying to resist, it wasn''t impossible. Was there anything James could have done differently? Not really. Not as he was now. Nothing he could do even phased the man. Judging by his parting words, not even the Techzooka would have been all that effective. He had done his best to become stronger, and he still was working on improving itself, but that visit completely threw his current objective out the window. He knew monsters like Abrakaboom were few, but one of them was already interested in him, and it was possible the others would follow suit. He needed to be better. Abrakaboom could have razed the facility, and that would have killed the ratlings. James'' need for an apartment away from his workplace rose higher on his to-do list. It already was one of his priorities since it was a necessary requirement for their schooling, but things were growing dire. Thankfully, there was a bit of good news for him. Wonderful words that came from his phone, spoken in that harsh Draskian accent. "Mister Silhouette? Come to the basement, please. I believe the new reactor is ready for a test. Chapter 143 : Eternal Darkness Reactor James stood beside his scientist, and he had to admit the robot had created something truly awe-inspiring. The beast of metal rose from the ground to the ceiling and, although he had never seen it in a functional state, vastly outsized the original underground power plant that had once fueled the car factory in energy. However, when taking into account the fact the facility never truly functioned, it was entirely possible the original generator was insufficient or perhaps never worked in the first place. Considering its melted and blown-up carcass when he first visited the place, the possibility wasn''t far-stretched. The mechanical engineer''s creation didn''t even resemble what James expected of a generator. If anything, it was closer to one of those old giant machines that did a task that modern devices the size of a printer could do just as well. The silvery metal of its exterior covered the wall, and rather than a featureless structure, it was a mess of tubes spiraling and becoming electrical coils that enveloped their earlier and later parts. It reminded James of those odd pictures of people doing art with noodles, almost by knitting them. Instead of a copy of a picture though, the image he could somewhat glimpse from the bizarre sight was strangely similar to intestinal tracks. The only thing on the great beast of metal before them that wasn''t covered by a single tube was a large semi-cylinder sticking out before it quickly began to shift and turn, retracting into the machine to reveal a hollow space that could easily fit a standing person or two. Ivan Decanov looked at his work, and despite his ridiculously large rectangular eyebrows showed no emotion on his face. "I am impressed you finished it so soon. I expected it would take at least a month, a week if you were as miraculously efficient as some say." "I would be insulted if I were not well aware this city is filled with imbeciles. You have gotten far too familiar with mediocrity." "I thought you''d be boasting by pointing out how this works, not putting down the local populace." "What need do I have for this? I know I am a genius, I know my creation is a revolutionizing invention, and I know any explanation of its inner workings would be lost on you." James almost scoffed, though he held it back. Though he had made an effort to behave in their initial meetings, the engineer had since relaxed back into the infamous scientist he had so much about. Not exactly a narcissist, the metal man didn''t exactly have a high opinion of himself but rather considered everyone else to be terribly stupid. James himself was unsure how much of the difficulties the robot had finding and keeping jobs came from his temperament and quirks rather than the xenophobia he blamed all his troubles on. At least he was genuinely good at what he did, and so far had not shown any hint of a traitorous thought. If there was one thing Decanov said about his reputation that he was willing to believe, it was that the robot never sabotaged finished work but rather left the most vital parts for last, at which point he''d be fired and unprepared scavengers would cause an explosion by attempting to finish the robot''s work without his mental blueprints and procedure. "Still, for such a practical man, this machine has quite the unusual look." "I can give you that. My calculations show this circuit is necessary for the optimal production and conversion of energy. Similarly, while I could fashion a smooth cover to hide these resilient parts from sight, I believe it is much more useful to keep them exposed so that any form of wear or damage can diagnosed as soon as possible." "How often do you estimate such maintenance will be necessary?" "I am unsure. Verifications should be done daily, at the very least." "Unsure?" "We are dabbling in forces beyond mortal men. I cannot estimate the damage your harnessed shadows will cause to materials in their proximity that are not being actively transformed." "Speaking of, should I not infuse the general frame?" "No. Our goal is to herd the dark energies, if you alter the insulation you will only provoke energy leaks." "Dully noted." The scientist stepped forward and turned back to face James. "Now, you must have noticed the space meant to house our energy source. If you look to your right, you will notice batteries." Indeed. Multiple crates were placed on the floor, filled with various sorts of them. Some were the usual small batteries he was used to from the slums and handled the most in his past life, meant for household items, but there were also larger ones, a few from cars, and even a couple of portable generators. They were all clearly second-hand items, and James could easily guess most were dysfunctional. At least he hoped so, otherwise, the cost he''d have to cover on the engineer''s behalf would sting more. Their state didn''t matter for this, once they were infused they would all be repaired and improved. Magical black crystals didn''t function the exact same way their ordinary counterparts did. "You informed me you were able to fuse infused materials, so long as it was the same. As such, I ask that you alter as many of these as you need to fill the cylinder on your left up to the rim." And, true to the robot''s words, there was a metal case sitting to the side. It looked quite similar to an industrial barrel but lacked the usual bumps on the side, not to mention its extensive size. At this point, it was no trouble for James to pour shadows into such a large quantity of simple items. Dark tendrils picked up battery after battery, quickly transforming them into crystals before placing them in the container, making sure to glue them together and ensure that, by the end, all had become one. He could guess as to what to do next but preferred to wait for the doctor''s instructions. It would be very unfortunate to ruin the machine just because matching shapes like a child caused an explosion. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "I am unsure as to the fragility and volatility of this crystal, but please do be careful when inserting it in the receptacle in the designated space in the generator." "I know better than to be a brute when handling machinery, doctor." "Spare me the indignation, I have superior strength as well. I know accidents can happen if you are not focused enough." James didn''t bother to answer as he followed Decanov''s command. The black cylindrical crystal fit perfectly in the receptacle of the generator, and its door rolled back out to hide it from view, seamlessly giving the construction its monochrome silvery look. The robot stepped closer to his creation before slipping his hand between two tubes, his square fingers grasping something and pulling it back, activating a hidden mechanism. "And thus, my work is complete." "It... Is it active?" "Why, yes. My readings already indicate we are no longer drawing on the city''s electricity, with more than enough power being produced to potentially sell the excess to them." "I simply expected something a little more... Dramatic." "Such as a light show accompanied by rumbling and booming sounds? Those would be signs of leakage. And, with how corruptive the energy we''re dealing with here is in its raw form, incredibly dangerous for my person and anyone in this facility." "I suppose it makes sense. Would you mind showing me those readings, doctor? I''m afraid I do not have a computer for a brain." "Neither do I. A computer is a device. It''d be the same as calling a mushroom a human brain just because both rely on carbon, protein, and DNA to exist and function." "Pardon me. You know I am not familiar with the proper terms to refer to a sapient robot." "I am aware. Your slip-ups are the result of casual ignorance, not bigoted stupidity." "I will ignore the pejorative part of your statement. Now, those readings? I''d like to verify your work myself. Do not take it personally, I''d just like to make sure. Being attacked by a Villain in broad daylight does wonders for my parano?a, much as I''d like it didn''t." "Ah, so that was the cause of this atrocious cacophony yesterday. As for your readings, you should be able to access them from your phone. Here, let me show you..." An in-depth and migraine-inducing lesson on programs James had never thought even existed later, and he had confirmed his contracted worker''s words. His new generator covered the energy his current activities used and much, much more. In fact, as he studied those abominable numbers once more in his office in front of the scientist, he realized he''d probably be able to upgrade the entire facility with new equipment, machinery, and security measures and still have enough excess electricity produced to sell back to the city or divert to other operations. "And you are certain this abundant production won''t be a problem?" The engineer rolled his eyes, which made for quite a unique sight given their rectangular shape and his square iris-less pupils. "Your electroguns never blew up from going unused, no? This is what is happening here. Your crystals are intelligent enough to stop taking in ambient shadows and transform them into energy when they are full. The only way they could become unstable would be if an excessive ongoing use was to be suddenly stopped, and even then my preliminary tests with the items you provided showed the crystals could simply release the excess power back as darkness. Unnatural darkness, but non-transformative and perfectly safe to interact with." James nodded. In hindsight it made sense, but transplanting that principle on a larger scale hadn''t come to mind. There was however one thing that picked his curiosity... "How could you test so much and build a generator so rapidly in so little time?" "I am Ivan Decanov. There is nothing else to be said." "Ah, I can empathize with that. So, would you still be interested in a longer contract to fix the rest of the factory and build enough security to keep away those sneaky enough to avoid my guards?" "Well, you are the least infuriating client I''ve had to deal with for quite some time. Very well. I recall you mentioning potentially dabbling in clothesmaking, are there any updates on that front?" "Let me contact my employees to check. In the meantime, here''s the updated contract I came up with. Feel free to bring up any question or disagreement you may have." The Draskian robot nodded as he picked up and unfurled the magical scroll James had handed him with a tentacle. The business owner, for his part, quickly called his team back at the orphanage in the Sunken City, and it didn''t have the time ring twice before someone answered. "Shadow Commando representative on the line, who is this?" "I thought I had my name noted down on that number on your end." "Yes boss, but Techlord insisted on increasing security. What if someone stole your phone?" "Uh. A good initiative. Say, how is the spider farm project going?" "Surprisingly well, boss. We started looking for a rancher, and this weird local named George came up." "Weird how? Bizarre mutations?" "Nope, he''s a regular guy. Mundane human, nothing special going on. It''s his personality, the way he acts... He gives me chills." "Are you worried he may be preparing something?" "No, no. He''s actually pretty happy about working for us, and even Techlord said he was undoubtedly loyal. It''s just... You gotta see him to get it, boss." "If you say so. So, the spider project?" "Well, with George and us working together, we''ve already got a pen with a couple of the crawlers in there. He spends all his time with them, he harvests their silk, milks them for their venom, grooms them, the whole shebang. The creepies like him too, they keep rubbing him and snuggling together. It''s... Well, I don''t have arachnophobia, I don''t even mind running into one of the giant wild ones, but I''d prefer never to see that again." "..." "..." "Reassure me, what you saw was purely platonic, right?" "Eh?" "He wasn''t romancing the spiders, right?" "Oh! OH! No, no! It was like a dog snuggling with their owner, except here it''s two giant spiders the size of a person." "Good. Good... Well, since he''s handling the situation well, let him lead the farm project so long as it concerns the animals. However, do try to have some people watch over him. Both to hopefully learn from him and, well... I''d rather keep our spiders free of human genes." "Got it, boss!" "And what of the other ongoing projects?" "Techlord is working hard as always, and Mischief''s digging is going well. They have to be careful to avoid setting off any trap or alarm, but we think before the month''s end we''ll have our rat highway ready!" "Excellent. What of you?" "We improve with every drill. The drug dealers are also taking well to their training and reeducation, though they do ask about when they''ll be getting jobs." "Tell them things are coming together. Once our city factory is completed, I''ll look into setting up a new one at your location. That''ll give them something to do. And for the Solvent side of things? I know there haven''t been any emergencies, but just to make sure." "Everything''s going well." "Wonderful. You are all doing splendidly. I''m bringing pastries over on my next visit." "Yeepie!" James ended the call under the curious gaze of the doctor, one of his large metallic eyebrows raised. "I have several questions, but I know better than to ask them. You''ll give me the answers when they become relevant." "You truly are the genius you claim to be." Chapter 144 : Elementary Inspector Vanille looked at the stack of papers one of the newest recruits had dropped on her desk. The hulking reptilian raised an eyebrow ridge as she sipped her coffee, a miraculous warm brew prepared by the equally wonderful Cooper, the greatest right-hand man a cold-blooded agent like her could wish for. "And this is?" "I saw some new guy on TV the other day, and-" "Ugh, let me guess. A suspicious seller goes live and advertises a weird product? This isn''t a Villain plot, kid, and if it is, the Union''s already on the case. Feel free to investigate further if you really want to when you have free time, but I doubt we''ll be getting that anytime soon with that Nightsnatcher still at large." The mysterious thing that had been plaguing the city for a while now had proven to be annoyingly efficient at evading attention. Even with the police, the Union, and even civilians looking for it, they had yet to even discover what it looked like, let alone figure out a way to put an end to his nightly hunts. At least now that its existence was known and restrictions had been made they had fewer victims to handle. They had no way to determine whether a disappearance case was its fault or not, but the number of people going missing had notably gone down. Well, that could also be attributed to the overall crime rate going down. It was unsurprising the worst elements of Zalcien preferred not to risk their lives by doing business in the middle of the night now that a very real boogeyman was out and about. At least Heroes had to respect the law, and even the most lethal and stealthy of Vigilantes were known factors. This thing? Whatever the Nightsnatcher was, it was worse than anything in the city in years. The reprieve was appreciated, but Vanille would still put a bullet between the thing''s eyes if she could. "Inspector, this isn''t what I came here to say." "Well hurry up, my coffee is getting cold and I''d rather not fall asleep in the middle of an interrogation." The recruit, a strapping man she likely would have been crushing on from afar back when she was younger, looked up to her slitted eyes. "Silhouette." "Should I know about them?" "When the reporters arrived for their interview, he was just done fighting with Abrakaboom." "Any proof of that?" "The sound of the explosions." "That won''t be proof enough." "It doesn''t matter, that would fall under the Union''s jurisdiction anyway. No, what caught my interest was how he came out of nowhere and settled down in an abandoned factory, turning it into a functional facility seemingly overnight." She adjusted her posture in her chair, standing up a little straighter, causing her tail to drag on the floor. "Go on." "Well, it wasn''t truly overnight. At least not all of it. The exterior was fixed right away, but some digging showed the machinery still needed repairs, which is why he hired one Ivan Decanov." The inspector groaned, a light hiss invading the grave sound escaping her chest due to her reptilian physiology. "Decanov alone is trouble worth watching for. Any idea when things might blow up?" "No clue. But, that''s not all. Since our mysterious newcomer made contact with one of the city''s non-criminal troublemakers, I looked for more." "And you found something." "123 Blackrose Street belongs to the Black Bank." "Of course, the scheming brat would be involved. I guess there''s more?" "The Black Bank led me to investigate the slums, and guess what the branch over there had in their reports?" "Silhouette, a newcomer to the gang wars. Anything remarkable about him?" "He still controls his territory there, although he moved into the city. He has a good reputation, the word is that he''s a good employer who pays better than anyone else and that he keeps to himself. The only known conflict he was involved with was initiated by an isolated Wicked Witchcraft member, one of the former cabal leaders." "How did that mess end?" "That territory is now his, and the previous leader is MIA." Vanille rose from her seat and drank from her cup, no longer steaming but still hotter than lukewarm. "Super-level strength, the exact threat is unknown. The slums are a lawless zone, so there''s nothing he''s done a jury would hold against him. Possible Villain or Vigilante, though it looks like he will probably prefer to remain neutral. That''s good to know, thank you. That''ll be one more spot the guys can fall back to in case of an emergency, it won''t be long before the local idiots know better than to approach the place." "This isn''t all, ma''am." "It isn''t?" "The rate at which he produces goods in the slums without a known factory there? The fact he has taken over a warehouse last used by the Blood Angels? I think he might be acting as an intermediary for someone outside the city, and it might include a contraband trade. No evidence of drug dealing so far, though." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. She hummed as she put a claw to her chin, rubbing her scales. "I see where you''re coming from. It isn''t like there are no breaches in the border, but the fact we might have someone creating a new operation rather than going through the official means or the usual illegal trade routes isn''t good. Still, we can''t cross out the possibility this Silhouette isn''t the middle man, or that whoever is behind his production isn''t a local or truly has nefarious intentions." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how the recruit began to slouch. Vanille let out a soft silent sigh before continuing. "That said, you still did a good job. Even if it turns out he''s genuinely innocent, knowing that we should keep an eye on him in the first place is good to know." "Thanks, ma''am." "Now, get back to work. We still have more people calling in than we have phones." "As you wish, ma''am!" The inspector lightly shook her head, a smile on her snout. The eagerness of the newbies could get to her, sometimes. The fact Cooper had managed to keep it even after all this time was yet another reason she liked having him around. She spared a look at the evidence the man had brought her and gently pushed the pile to the side of her desk, in clear enough view she''d remember to read through it later without risking mixing it in all of the other files she had to juggle with. The Nightsnatcher wasn''t the only thing making a mess in the city, it was just the worst case the police could handle with minimal interference from the Union. Not that the Heroes went out of their way to impede their investigations, it just wasn''t sane or safe to send cops with basic powers or firearms to deal with gangs when they had someone like Sunburn on site. The lizard drank the last of her coffee. Today was going to be a long day.
James was back in the improvised training area he had fashioned in the abandoned warehouse of his Penumbral Palace, though already his Infused were preparing the place to get back in activity soon. Most of those who weren''t patrolling or guarding the area were with Doctor Decanov though, watching the man put together the machinery that would soon be manufacturing his products. They were supposed to study the engineer at work to see how to maintain and repair his creations without needing to call on him, but James had to admit he had some doubts as to the likelihood of the success of this plan. The fact the robot had a tendency to do most of the heavy lifting mentally meant they likely wouldn''t learn how anything actually worked, simply in which order and which way should the pieces be put together. Well, now wasn''t the time to worry about that. If anything, the doctor''s slowly growing interest in sticking around might render James'' worries null. Sure, it still wouldn''t do to need him to move personally for any minor problem, but if he were to become a permanent member of the team he would likely feel more comfortable leaving trustworthy complete instructions and blueprints around. He''d need to hire people to work on these, but he had already been planning something similar to lighten Techlord''s workload, so that wasn''t so problematic. Speaking of, he should probably have his main inventor come and verify the doctor''s work soon to make sure the mass production of his creations wouldn''t ruin their quality. It''d be disastrous if someone were to be harmed by an electrogun exploding in their hand or a shield failing to block a weak hit. As part of his mind wandered, James was also reading the booklet on the basics of magic he had bought what felt like a lifetime ago. He hadn''t dabbled in spells and witchcraft all that much beyond the bare minimum he had learned, and his recent encounter drove him to rectify that. One topic he had grown curious about following the raid on Runar''s base was the subject of elements. Not the ones of the periodic table, though those were still a thing here, but the more spiritual forces of nature. Back on Earth, there were constant debates about what should be counted as an element. For example, metal, which was part of the classic five Chinese elements, was absent from many pieces of fiction. It was somewhat reassuring to see that even here, on Terra Stellis, where magic was very real and easy to observe, the topic was prone to disagreements. Technically, according to his booklet, anything could be an element. According to it, magic was an intangible rainbow, and harnessing it acted as a prism, capturing some fractions of it, fractions that were then dubbed elements by those using it. It was why water magic could both be very effective and very vulnerable when it came to acid magic, it all depended on how it was used. To continue on this topic, elements weren''t closed-off things. They were like chemicals, mixing them together could have vastly different results based on the conditions. Two benign solutions could result in something monstrous, and two dangerous fields could give birth to a harmless one. To put it in the words of the booklet... "Elements as we know them don''t exist. They are only our way of categorizing similar enough phenomenons all born from the great chaos we call magic, yet again a term we coined to label a primordial force none can claim to truly understand. Plastic is an element to the same level as fire and decay are." Now, the exact ramifications of this James was unsure of, but what it meant to him was reassuring: he could magic, thus he could in theory do more than just throw balls and spears of darkness. Well, he also knew how to create a shield, but that wasn''t the sort of development he was looking for. To be more specific, what he wanted to replicate were the black flames Loedycan had used during the fight. The wolfman had confirmed to James he had never been able to use such things before they first met, which meant much like Polisson''s replacement limb, they were born from his infusion. Now, the booklet did mention not everyone could act as a prism to the same level. To be more precise, it mentioned each individual being its own prism, with some "colors" being easier to access than others, though then again some people could access supposedly mutually exclusive elements. Considering his situation, James wouldn''t be surprised if he was limited to using things that could in one way or another be linked to darkness or shadows. That didn''t mean he could only use shadow magic, though. As Loedycan, Fluorine, and even the electroguns had shown, other things could be imbued with darkness. Fire, acid, lightning. Now, James'' goal wasn''t to become a master of the arcane arts, but getting closer to being a jack of all trades was always a good idea. According to his shopkeepers, Pierce Evil had prepared himself against electricity and shadows, and had only been killed because he had dropped his guard and was caught off-guard by a regular flamethrower. While there wasn''t much he could do against that second resistance, having more elements up his sleeves to deal with different situations was something he could work on. Hence his current situation: part of him went on and on on the various things he had to prepare for, another worker on keeping his body afloat and finding the best way to move through the air, yet another was meditating to further study the soulspace and his connections to infused items, a different one kept on reading that booklet, and a final one was working on conjuring elemental magic at random to see what worked and what didn''t. After all, before he could train on getting stronger, he needed to see what was possible in the first place. The ratlings spared a glance at what was going on with their father from their own training after a black bolt of lightning struck the wall next to them. The siblings quickly elected to move somewhere else, just in time to be spared from the black snow that began to rain down despite them being inside. Not that they knew it was snow, the odd color looking closer to ash and none of the dark snowflakes reaching them to share their creeping cold. The couple of Infused in the room weren''t quite as lucky. One of the masked guards was hit straight in the face by a bouncing ball of tar-like water while the other calmly patted down the flames spreading on their forearm. Thankfully, they didn''t have the sense of self to panic or be offended. Chapter 145 : Bouncing back 123 Blackrose Street. It was a place that had gotten a lot more attention lately, though the nosy people around knew better than to try and test the vigilance of the armed guards patrolling the area. One of the facility''s inhabitants was looking for something to do, bored out of her mind. The mutated rodent passed her head through the doorway to the warehouse that had been turned into an impromptu training room, and something instantly caught her eye. Rapidly moving from place to place was a black blur, passing by faster than she could track. Oddly enough the mass made no sound when it collided with any of the surfaces it bounced off. The only noise in the room instead was the wooshing of the displaced air in the mad race. Watching the bizarre spectacle were two of her siblings, one noticeably larger than the other. The rat who stood up to a man''s waist when on her hind legs scuttled towards them, her bent tail carefully kept close to the rest of her body to avoid falling victim to the unstoppable force at play. Thankfully for Foudre, her siblings had the kindness to make space for her to stand in, even her younger brother, though it was clear he didn''t make as much of an effort as their older sister. Though, for once, his dismissive behavior didn''t seem to result from his prickly personality, but rather the intensity with which he was watching what had to be their adoptive father doing something weird once again. "So, what''s dad doing?" The taller rat, with metallic streaks in her fur, was the one who answered first. "He is currently training to adapt to high speeds. He wishes to be ready for future opponents like Pierce Evil, and hopefully match them. While he can rival the knight in output, he still lacks control and reflexes." Just because Lucille answered first didn''t mean David stayed silent. "Also something about shadows moving or whatever." Foudre tilted her head. She wasn''t surprised by their patriarch''s actions, if anything she planned on doing something similar herself later on given her preference for ending fights in a single rapid counterstrike, but rather that her tempestuous brother had noticed something their more controlled sister had missed. "And are you sure it''s safe? I love Dad, but yesterday we still had black fireballs running amock. David scoffed, and Lucille explained. "We told him. He''s going out of his way not to get close to us. Let your eyes unfocus, you''ll notice it." Foudre had her doubts, but she knew her sister wouldn''t trick her. Well, not this sister in particular. She did as she advised, and was surprised to see that the blur she had been struggling to keep track of turned from a single moving mass to a more diffuse thing, a general zone of shadows with occasional darker spots, a zone that the area around her and her siblings as well as the path to the exit had spared. "Father told us about this phenomenon, how not trying to track a rapid object could occasionally be more effective than focusing on it." "Couldn''t tell much about it, though. The old man isn''t the sharpest tool in the shed." "David." "What? It''s true." Foudre shook her head. Usually, Lucille would have joined her, but it was clear her overly serious sister was far too engrossed by what their father was doing to despair at their youngest brother''s terrible attitude. "And what are the two of you doing, then?" "I am following in father''s footsteps. By following his fast movements, I aim to improve my ability to see incoming strikes." "And I''m just here to count how many times the old man hits a corner." Foudre had an inkling her brother wasn''t quite as careless as he wished to portray. The fact he was just as diligent as Lucille in his observation didn''t scream lazy bum in search of entertainment, nor did the occasional twitching of his fingers when James got particularly close. The runt of the litter may have been the most unruly of the siblings, but he could easily focus when it came to fighting. "And how long have you two been here?" "I dunno, an hour or two?" "Forty-eight minutes, with some seconds to spare." Foudre hummed. "Can I join in?" "Of course. Just know we prefer to watch in silence." "I want to hear the thud when he stumbles and hits the wall. What have you been doing, anyway?" "I lent a paw to Blanche to style her fur, and Goliath needed me to tailor my new weapon." "A new sparkly thing? Again? How many of those do you need? You can shock stuff yourself anyway." "I may not share Blanche''s obsessions, but I do prefer to keep my claws clean. Not everyone enjoys showering in blood. Besides, I like the extra reach and the gizmos he comes up with. He apparently has been fashioning a sawblade into a shield, either for me to power up or Blanche to throw should her powers improve." Foudre''s older sister promptly reacted to her words with the closest thing a mutated rat could get to a raised eyebrow, though she still didn''t let her gaze leave her father''s fast-paced movements. "Do they?" Foudre grimaced as Lucille''s question. "Not as much as they would if she focused a little more on training rather than styling." "Ah! Knew it. What about the big guy? I know playing with scraps can be hard, but he hasn''t dropped the heat did he?" "No. He uses red-hot claws to cut and fuse back the metal of the scraps he uses and warms up his paws to counteract the cold of the floor." "Oooh, hot cuts. Shame it''s him who got that, he ain''t the style to harm people more than necessary, and those got to hurt." Lucille lightly shook her head, though not enough to disturb her staring. "You are mistaken, brother. They quite fit his merciful disposition: unlike your exsanguinating work, his attacks will cauterize wounds and thus prevent blood loss, thus diminishing the overall fatality rate. Though I cannot deny you are right to say the experience will be more painful than he is comfortable with." This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. "Uh. When you put it like that... What about you, happy with your metal shtick?" "I cannot complain. It is versatile, both offensively and defensively. In truth, I suspect our powers may match our personalities or vice-versa. Blanche''s telekinesis fits her desire to keep herself clean and avoid efforts while your own wind bursts are perfect for your constant need to rush in battle. What about you, Foudre?" "Lightning strikes. One blow is all it takes, a flash and everything ends. I like it. I don''t care why I can do it, only how to do it better." Lucille hummed her approval, more than appreciating the desire for efficiency, while David grumbled in his whiskers about how unfun that fighting style was. It wasn''t unexpected for someone who loved playing with his prey so much when hunting, the sisters just hoped he''d be able to reign those tendencies in if they were to pursue their wish to become Heroes. Heroes didn''t have fun at the expanse of criminals, it was unfitting sadistic behavior or it wasted time that could be put to use helping people. After that, the three sat in silence for the better part of half an hour before something came to David''s mind. "Hey, wasn''t it today the old man was supposed to see that chick from the park?" "Language, David. But-" Before Lucille could finish scolding her brother, their father rushed down from the ceiling, falling onto the ground and spreading into a pool of shadows before quickly bouncing and inflating back into his usual Silhouette shape, the darkness that had been splashed around joining back into him. "David, what did you just say?" "That gal, what''s-her-name, weren''t you supposed to go see her this evening or something?" "Argh, I knew I forgot something. Marie and her husband are supposed to help me deal with the paperwork for your school." "Do we really have to go, Dad?" "Yeah, old man, do we? I don''t need to know how to build a house to beat up monsters." "Children. You will go to school. Not only is it mandatory to achieve a bare minimum level of education, but you need to have some socialization with other children. You can''t just spend all your time together or with me or the employees. Besides, I have done my research. There is a theoretical test to become a Hero trainee, which means no joining the Union if you don''t work at school." "Fine. We''ll go do that stupid stuff." "And David? No harming the other kids. Yes, even if they start it." The small rat dropped his raised paw and deflated, the wind blown out of his sails. "Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have to go see Froko about that whole apartment business so it''s settled before I meet with the Merries. It''d be really awkward not to have an address to give after everything I told them about us having a stable situation." And on those words, James blasted away, turning into something akin to a missile of black smoke that left the warehouse before any of his children could react. With him gone, the three no longer had anything to stare at and thus exchanged glances. Or, more accurately, Lucille and Foudre stared at their brother unamused. "What? Usually, you want me to be nice and stuff, wasn''t telling him about this nice?" "Yeah, yeah it was. But you could be nicer to Dad." "And you could stand to gain from curbing your violent urges back. Not to mention, father has been explicit about our need to partake in public education multiple times." "Hey! Crooked-tail was in on that!" "Hey!" "Don''t call her that. But yes, I recall her attempt as well. On that point, I am very disappointed in you, Foudre. I expected this from our black sheep, but you?" "Argh, sorry sis, it''s just... Sitting all day doing nothing sounds so boring." "Learning is a very taxing process, Foudre. If Father is to be trusted, you won''t be bored quite so easily, at least not for long. Besides, I am certain that should you share your concerns with Father, he might find a solution. I remember Miss Merry mentioning the school taking care of special needs some students may have, perhaps a way to canalize your surplus of energy or help make lessons more tolerable for you could be arranged." "Cutter, you gotta learn to talk fast." "Pardon?" "Yeah, I''m with murder boy on this one. You sound older than Dad when you open your mouth." "Excuse you!" David let out a squeaky giggle at his sister''s annoyance, before promptly jumping out of the way as she whacked her tail at him. This time his laughter was much more mocking, and thus began a chase between the metal and air ratlings, their electric sister deciding to tag along, having nothing better to do.
Sitting in the new break room their latest boss had created in their old office, the duo of former Runarian Knights once known as Tristare and Medraw were drinking away cups of what could be described as the best coffee in the area, a paltry title to obtain in the slums. Not to say the brew was atrocious, the two fighters had been in more civilized parts in the past and had been to regular caff¨¦s with worse drinks, but the liquid currently flowing down their throats was far from the best they had. Truth be told, this was the coffee only the elites of Runar''s group had access to in the past, with the man himself preferring much more expensive teas, and what made the situation truly different from the norm for the two aside from the location was the fact that they weren''t the only ones drinking this brew despite being the last two survivors of the now disbanded criminal organization. They were surrounded by people of all sorts, though the vast majority wore the equipment of guards, or as they liked to call themselves, the Shadow Commando garb. The three-eyed fishman by the name of Valker in particular was disturbed by their new defenders, having experienced his first defeat in a long time at their hands. Or more accurately, his temper had been shattered by the phantasmagorical level of sheer idiocy they were capable of despite their objective remarkable effectiveness when they raided the very building they now all took a break in. There were also some more usual ruffians, locals who did the heavy lifting now that the violent thugs of the past were gone, as well as a few of the runic scribes who worked hard each day to create the magical items that would then be sold in Silhouette''s shop. Those former technical apprentices of the runemaster that operated the place had been for the most part spared from the transformative weaponry of the Commando during the raid, leading to the vast majority remaining normal and vowing loyalty to Silhouette via magical contracts. They were the rarest group to see in the break rooms spread between the floors, understandably still shaken by the change in leadership following the violent hostile takeover they had been the victims of. Well, technically there was one more group of people present in the room, but those weren''t on break. The Infused, the unfortunate ones who had been transformed by Silhouette''s corruptive powers, had no true ego to speak of, being no better than soulless robots. They served as guards most of the time, with the Commando only being here on visits to socialize with the new employees to build trust and loyalty or during inspections to check on how things were going. Not that either of the two de facto leaders of the former Runarian troops had any plan to rebel, even without the soul-binding contracts they had signed they both knew better than to antagonize Silhouette again, especially when his body double was nearby. Solvent never left the roof office, waiting silently for reports and orders from their master, as well as keeping an eye on the surroundings. They were effectively a scarecrow who doubled as an emergency contact to their new boss, but no one could deny the black goop-covered skeleton was the best at their job. Valker shared a look with Medraw, though he couldn''t be fully sure she truly reciprocated it given her lack of pupils and irises. Bug eyes weren''t the best when it came to showing emotions, after all, and that was coming from someone descended from fish. The mutant cockroach had been left with no choice but to mingle with the others without her usual human disguise for a time, the magical equipment providing the illusion having been broken and undergoing repairs, and she had reluctantly gotten used to it by now, even when fooling her surroundings had become possible once more. Well, to be more truthful, a member of the Shadow Commando had commented on how letting them know what she looked like would be helpful to deal with potential impostors in the future, as well as be a great show of trust, and had the bright idea to share it with Solvent before Medraw could give them a piece of her mind. The rule was made, and she was stuck with it. At least she still wore her leather suit, rather than being left in bare chitin like she had been when the rats caught her. She shivered at the thought. She knew the rodents were around, out of her sight, hidden from even Valker. But she wouldn''t be fooled. She knew they were the true backbone of Silhouette''s empire, always watching, always listening, their claws and teeth always ready to maim the poor idiots who might decide to try their chance at fighting or betraying Silhouette. Even now, she could spy some black fur scuttling in the corner of her eye, keeping an eye on what took place in their bizarre break room. Amidst this sea of changes, there was one uncomfortable truth the duo had realized, one neither dared to speak out loud even though they both knew it and knew the other was onto it as well. This was probably the best their lives had ever been. Chapter 146 : Shadow and stalker Walking through the streets of Zalcien in an oh-so-wonderfully casual outfit and humanoid shape, James thought back to the encounter he had just had. There had been no surprise in his meeting with the Merries, Marie''s husband was as human and impossibly mundane as his wife, and just as friendly to boot. With the final details of his apartment worked with Froko just before seeing the friendly couple who offered to help him with his paperwork, there had been no issue in finalizing the documents to have the ratlings start school soon and be registered as his adopted children. The couple did frown somewhat when they saw the address of his new home, understandably so given the fact James had specifically looked for people with little regard for the law so they wouldn''t ask too many questions so long as money came in, but did not comment on it. And that was it. No pyramid scheme, no scam, no attempt at extortion, no threat to his life, or anything of the sort. For once in his new life, things had gone smoothly, with no urgency or problem dropping on his lap. Which is the exact why he was tenser than ever before, and on the lookout for anything that could go wrong. He wouldn''t have called himself a pessimist in his past life, but here? In Zalcien? James had seen his fair share of trouble arrive unprompted and without warning, and though some of it could be blamed on the location where his new existence began being infamously chaotic and violent, he wasn''t dumb enough to drop his guard after a good thing happened in a world of superheroes. That was just an invitation to the universe to do its worst. And James was not surprised to be proven correct when he began to feel a presence following some time after the sun went down, deep in the dark of night. The Merries had offered to escort him back home before nightfall but he had refused, estimating that risking an encounter with an optimistic mugger or a bizarre critter was better than letting them get any closer to his Silhouette life. The couple was charming, and he hoped they''d grow enough to be considered friends, but he wanted to set a firm distinction between James, the regular guy with a weird shadow body, and Silhouette, the eerie monster born from darkness. James'' clothing did little to dampen his unique senses, yet he found no trace of his mysterious stalker. Part of him was worried at the danger something he couldn''t sense posed, while a much more logical part realized that it was less skilled than Valker, and he had purposefully had the man train Solvent to detect an invisible threat so he could peek at it, letting the former Runarian Knight believe he had failed to escape James'' senses. Still, there was also the possibility the mystery entity following him was less capable of erasing its presence but a much more competent fighter. The Shadow Commando had taken down Valker, and frankly, a single member would likely have been enough to handle him without his ability to vanish from sight. Hopefully, that training to deal with unperceivable enemies would pay off, if the stalker chose to attack that is. Minutes dragged on and the presence continued to follow, but made no further move. Was it simply trailing James? Waiting for a more opportune moment, perhaps for him to leave the empty yet still illuminated streets? Or was this entity perhaps a Vigilante of sorts, simply making sure James wasn''t up to no good or perhaps even watching out for anyone trying to attack him? It couldn''t be a Hero for sure, one of those would have made themselves known by now, but those who chose to spread justice without the backing of a law often had to stay out of sight, even if they weren''t the murderous sort. James wasn''t inclined to let this stalker follow him back home. He chose to turn to head into a dark alleyway away from the streetlights, hoping the secluded environment would draw it out for a confrontation or at the very least offer James an opportunity to run away, he would no longer need to keep to a humanoid form if he was sure to away from curious eyes after all. Thankfully for him, the bizarre urban architecture of the slums continued even in the civilized Zalcien, offering quite a few strange turns and isolated corners so long as one knew where to look. It was a waste of space and possible housing area, but more than welcome for those in need of a hiding spot. Perhaps it was in fact their intended use, designed either to let civilians get to cover away from rampaging Villains or with a bribe to let the unethical elements have an easy way out of police chases and ambush spots. Zalcien was less turbulent than its slums, but the city still housed quite a number of criminal elements. Its citizens weren''t fearing for their lives daily, but it was undeniable the Heroes and the police would never run out of work in these parts. At last, James found what he was looking for, and after a series of labyrinthine turns he found himself at a dead-end, with even the path back to the more open street he had come from being hidden from view by one of the tall buildings that composed this urban maze he had wandered in. It''d be no trouble to backtrack, but it ensured privacy. As his steps came to a stop, James pushed his senses to the limit to catch any hint of that presence and its reaction. He stood there silently for a moment, doing exaggerated movements to show his confusion and appear lost, scratching his bald while looking from side to side. He had gotten used to acting the part of a vaudeville character when the kids played pretend, a wonderful opportunity for them to have fun while putting their skills to the test outside of a regular training setting. Plus, the tomfoolery aided James when it came to his more serious role of Silhouette. At least he hoped so. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Finally, after what must have been close to a minute of senseless actions in silence, the stalker took the bait. The rapid movement of something fending the air, like a bird of prey diving down to catch a clueless critter, pushed James to shapeshift out of the way, blending in with the ambient darkness on the ground to ensure no part of him stuck out in a physical space to be caught. Something he was quite thankful for when he realized a thin part of him that had yet to flatten suddenly ceased to exist, right as he felt the displaced air in the thing''s wake brush against him. The realization a part of him had just been annihilated with no notice was terrifying but pushed to the side as he discovered the creature that had attacked him, glimpses of it being revealed in its downward charge before its back was fully exposed as it returned to the sky. The thing reminded him of a ray, in an alien kind of way. One without a tail, or maybe a jellyfish with no tentacles. The circular thing was a pale turquoise on the parts he could perceive, smooth skin with a strange luster not unlike an amphibian''s, large enough to cover a car yet paradoxically thin, rivaling paper. The only reliably solid thing on the stalker''s body was the group of small purple gem-like objects encrusted in what appeared to be a line across the body, each of the golf-ball size translucent violet pebbles reflecting the moonlight as the creature moved. From the way the floaty living veil moved in the air, James assumed the gemstones followed its equivalent of a spine, letting him know this thing did have some sort of bilateral symmetry going on. On the one hand, it was reassuring to realize that common sense when it came to dealing with most creatures wouldn''t be completely useless on the monster, but on the other hand, knowing it followed some logic didn''t help in any way to know how to better fight it off. There was one last trick to the creature though, one that led James to guess what those gems were for in the alien''s biology. All of the features that marked the entity as a living being of some kind were on the same side, what James considered to be its back or top, for its underside was nothing else but the celestial pattern of the night sky. It wasn''t an allegory or poetic way of describing a pretty spotted pattern, but a quite literal observation. The belly of the beast wasn''t a mere copy of the stars in the void, but instead a window, showing directly what lay behind the creature. James'' wandering thoughts recalled his time watching animal documentaries and likened the creature to both a species of lizard who had developed a rudimentary third eye beneath their scales to notice the shifting shadows from the sky caused by birds and to cuttlefish and how they modified their bodies to better blend in with their environment, not only their pigmentation but also their texture. Most of James'' mind however was focused on the floating gelatin that had just apparently eaten a piece of him and unleashed a flurry of shadow projectiles to blast it into oblivion. Whether it was smart enough to talk or not didn''t matter, it had just tried to eat him by surprise, and he had little goodwill left for it. What happened next was both surprising and not. When the bolts James had cast began to rain down the creature''s visible body, it began to screech as it was violently pushed against the nearest wall and pelted by simple spells, and though its body kept its pale turquoise hue, it failed to escape the stream of attacks and kept on letting out this high-pitched migraine-inducing screech that sounded on the verge of his auditory perception. For the first time since he had begun to dabble in magic, James had found something immune to his transformative properties yet still harmed by his attacks. So far the two conditions had come hand in hand, and he wasn''t certain as to how to react to the bizarre situation. He continued his flurry of black projectiles until the thing stopped moving, and even then he let out a few bigger ones, just to be safe. The entity fell down from its spot on the wall, and James noted how it appeared damaged where the creature had been pressed, only to find when he ran a tentacle on it that the wall wasn''t simply broken but instead had been partially deleted, the destruction smoother than anything he''d ever seen. Even smoother than something like an egg. What happened here and to the bite of him the thing had taken reminded him not only of the Destruction Aspect, one of the primordial forces of this world, but also painted a certain picture when matched with the creature''s choice for a nocturnal attack on an isolated individual. James may have been relatively new to this world, but he still followed the news. He was well aware of the other new mysterious element in town, one that had developed the habit of leaving missing persons in its wake, the Nightsnatcher. He couldn''t be certain, no official sighting of the creature existed, but that fact combined with the remarkable camouflage his stalker had displayed only reinforced his suspicion. He studied the creature as he pondered the best course of action. He was uncertain whether it was dead or simply unconscious, but even now its underside continued to display whatever was on the other end of it. There wasn''t much else to see, the beast was as featureless as it first appeared. At least its paper-thin body made transporting much easier, he only had to roll it while making sure not to touch its dangerous part. He could even move it around as James without looking too suspicious, at this point, it only looked like a strange carpet. He was unsure as to what to do with the Nightsnatcher now that it was in his grasp. The best course of action was probably to bring it to the police or the Hero Union, but that would bring unwanted attention. Not to mention, there was a risk a Villain could steal the thing and use it to create a weapon of sorts, a weapon that could then one day be used against him. It would leave the investigation into the creature and its list of victims at a dead end though, and there might have been some way of studying it that could reveal who he had eaten. Well, nothing stopped James from having people look into the creature and only then anonymously send it to the proper authorities. Maybe they''d figure out something useful, something they could then use for his products or his personal use. He wouldn''t say no to a nice gadget that would leave even people like Abrakaboom stumped. Besides, he had to make a living somehow. James picked up his phone and scrolled through his contact list. Thankfully, the first person he wanted to call didn''t need to sleep either. "Hello, Doctor Decanov?" Chapter 147 : Robot in the sewers Ivan Decanov had his remarkable rectangular metal eyebrow raised as he looked at the thing on the table before him. When his latest employer called him to take a look at something, he was not expecting this scenario. Doubly so because at no point did he ever show an inkling of an interest in the topic at hand. "Let me get this straight. You called me in the dead of night to study the body of a likely alien creature that has been plaguing this city for some time now and that both the police and Union are certainly trying to track down? You called me, an engineer, to handle a subject even a competent biologist would struggle with? Mister Silhouette, I am quite curious as to what gave you the bizarre idea the plan you formed was a good one." "I figured we should take the time to study the creature before dropping it off to the authorities and fool that I was I had the misguided idea that an intelligent mind such as yourself might be interested, and as a fellow member of the group of entities that do not need sleep, you would not mind taking the time to satisfy both of our curiosities." The Draskian robot tapped his metal chin with his cubic fingers as he spared a look at the shadowy figure at his side. Silhouette had proven to offer the best work so far, and he had shown no hint of a thought of betrayal. To the doctor''s knowledge, the man of darkness was genuine in his promise to pay him fairly and treat him well. Not to mention, he did provide some of the most interesting work the doctor had to handle yet. He couldn''t fault the man for wishing for his highly-valued input, not when he had been respectful so far. Silhouette''s wish to see if Ivan would find this discovery useful was likely true as well. "Though your decision was flawed, I cannot blame you for wishing for my aid. Am I the only person you could ask for help in your circles?" "No, though you are the only one I could contact right away. Sorry for bothering you for nothing, feel free to return home. I''ll have to take a quick trip to see the others." The mechanical man put his hand on the shadow''s shoulder, though he made sure not to move too quickly or use too much strength. His employer seemed to be the paranoid sort at times, and he wanted to be sure he knew this was a way to ask him to stop and not an attack. He had never seen the man fight himself, but he''d rather not discover what someone who could live past Abrakaboom''s explosions could do to mere metal. "If you would not mind, I believe I would like to accompany you. We both know I am no simpleton, I am well aware this is only the tip of the iceberg. I think now might be the time to introduce me to the rest of the organization, particularly those you deem worthy of giving you advice. My work would be more efficient if I knew exactly what we are working with and to what ends." "Are you sure, doctor? You''ve already signed a contract to keep my secrets, but I worry you might not enjoy the experience." "As you said, I cannot share what you seek to hide. Besides, I''ve known you long enough to know you aren''t the Villainous sort, if you have any trouble with the law it is within acceptable margins." "If you say so, doctor." The shadows unfurled as Silhouette turned, the rolled-up Nightsnatcher under his facsimile of a shoulder, and the engineer took that as a sign to follow him. Before long the two were walking down to the basement, only to turn to face one of the black walls. Dark tendrils snaked their way from the figure to the stony surface, only for a panel the size of a door to detach itself and rise to the ceiling, supported by yet more tentacles. Beyond the revealed opening was an unlit tunnel that even the robot''s enhanced eyesight could not see the end of, though he could distinguish strange shapes scurrying away in holes in the sides. "If you would, please inform me next time of any secret passage in advance. I might accidentally cover the entrance and alterations unaccounted for might result in structural instability." "Of course, doctor. I''ll do my best." The machine scoffed before following in Silhouette''s shadow, his heavy steps contrasting with the silent way the dark figure moved. Faint light began to emerge from Decanov''s eyes, a way for him to keep his vision to a respectable level. It was too weak to illuminate anything before them but provided more than enough to reveal that countless creatures were watching them, their beady eyes reflecting the rays from the doctor''s own. The Draskian did not react to the revelation, aside from a side glare at a critter that came a little too close and risked dirtying his lab coat. Minutes passed and soon the tunnel gave way to an open room where more doorways welcomed them, and Silhouette made no pause before turning and entering one of them. The doctor followed, taking the lack of instructions to stop as a confirmation he was doing something correctly. The things in the walls were still here, and fine-tuned audio receptors caught the pitty-patter of feet in the dark, tailing them. "Will traps need to be installed here?" "If you have the time, though this underground area is low-priority. The Penumbral Palace is more urgent, and if you have the time, the facility we will reach soon is second." "What of the dens?" "Give them a way to protect themselves from threats such as flames or chemicals. They can deal with living things on their own." "Very well." This time the tunnel ended not in a room but with a ladder, or something somewhat similar. The well was a straight hole down to the depths, with ridges carved into the stone clearly meant for things much smaller than people. The small mercy for the claustrophobic who might one day use this way was that the hole was wide, with enough space for a dining table to fall. However, given that the ridges formed multiple ladders with space between them, it was obvious they were meant to be used simultaneously. "Would you prefer to climb down yourself, or have me hold you?" The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "You know I will always pick efficiency over dignity. It will still be highly unpleasant." In a blink of an eye - though neither of the two needed to blink - a black tendril wrapped around the surprisingly thin waist of the robot before the duo plunged into the depths, emerging once more in a dark alcove, though this time it only took a few steps to reach the humid pathway on one side of a great canal of putrid water. Sewage flowed without pause, and bizarre critters formed their own ecosystem - though they were far smaller and less dangerous than their counterparts in the slums'' sewers. The main city took the time to purge things too dangerous for their employees, leaving behind a somewhat mundane if strange sight. Eye-catching black and yellow salamanders walked placid millipedes munching on the patches of moss growing on the stone, all of them living under the hungry eyes of large chunky centipedes sporting legs of various lengths on the ceiling, only kept at bay by the smooth and warty toads and frogs perched on floating islands of detritus. Yes, the average citizen would be in a blind panic by now, screeching their heart out at the size of insects the length of their forearms, but in truth, they were harmless into anything larger than themselves. Sewer work wasn''t glamorous, but running into an opportunistic Villain was likelier than getting gobbled up by a crocodile, and both scenarios were made nigh impossible by the frequent patrols of Legion and new Heroes by the Union. The Draskian for his part merely noted that the alcove they just exited was not a modification but part of the tunnel''s original design, possibly meant to house a portable outhouse back when the dome-like structure Zalcien was built on was being manufactured. The irony of such a contraption in what would later on become the city''s sewers wasn''t lost on the man, but rather than finding it humous he merely considered it wasteful. Not because expelling waste was a useless activity, he was well aware of its necessity for the organic sorts, but rather because the system could have been directly incorporated into the sewage system so that future employees - those living in his present time - could have a place to use. He failed to consider the unlikelihood of anyone disrobing in the den of excrement particles. They walked for a few minutes, and the engineer noticed the trend of leaving this section as unmodified as possible was continued to their destination, yet another outhouse alcove that required them to climb a ladder before going down a well once more. While Decanov could understand the need for safety by avoiding making a straight path, he pondered the reason why the first well simply hadn''t been dug deeper to reach their next stop. One more humiliating lift later and they were in an even grander tunnel, one that was closer to an artificial cavern than an underground hallway, and this time, the canal was far past the size required for the safe passage and passive filtering of waste and rather had become a true river of filth, one that could be navigated by a small boat with no issue. And, judging by the black embarkation waiting for them, bobbing up and down with the waves of brown water, it appeared that was exactly the plan. Mercifully, the small ship would have no problem holding both of the men and their rolled-up cargo, the elongated yet thin design more than capable of ferrying a dozen people. The only thing the doctor doubted regarding his safety was the wildlife, scaly and finned backs creeping out of the sewage around the vessel, threatening to flip it over and lead its passengers to their doom, only serving as further nourishment for the creatures. A bolt of dark energy firing out of Silhouette''s body into the agitated mass was enough to disperse them and have them leave the small ferry alone. Decanov raised his brow when he saw the figure covered by a black hooded robe standing on the wooden boards and waiting for them, combined with the oddly long oar in their hand that vanished beneath the murky waters painted the vessel with the look of a psychopomp welcoming them for their journey to the afterlife. Not that he thought he had died, he had a subroutine dedicated to keeping track of that, just in case. He had no hesitation to follow Silhouette onto the ship, and their trip began. It was silent, aside from the noises from the natural wildlife. The robot looked on as the environment grew wilder and deadlier as time passed and they advanced, occasionally traversing massive chambers that could easily fit the entire facility Silhouette owned on the surface. At one point he noticed a large creature following in their wake beneath the waters, the swimming patterns matching that of a crocodilian. The reptile showed no sign of aggression and the fact it was simply approaching rather than attempting to ambush them led him to conclude it wasn''t planning on hurting them. Still, he preferred to make sure. "Should I be worried about the beast behind us?" As if on cue, white leathery skin peeked out of the sewage. "Allow me to introduce The Marked. I am not too familiar with it myself, but it is well known in local circles. Well, I met it once before, though it was brief. It is a noticeably peaceful crocodile if I remember correctly. She isn''t an albino, she is instead covered by so many scars that she has no scale left. She should leave us be, she only eats monsters and those that dare challenge her territory. Besides, neither of us would make a good meal." "What of your ferryman?" The answer to the doctor''s question was the snapping of powerful jaws belonging to a creature the size of a bus biting on catfish the size of a car in a gracious jump that had both animals far above the boat before diving back down beneath the sewage. "Uh. Say, I''ve noticed the black spotches on the walls on the way here. I assume they are your work?" "False entrances. A single one would make tracking me down far too easy." "Of course. On an unrelated note, why is this floating plank not equipped with a motor?" "The answer is simple, I didn''t have a boat to modify in the first place, and I had to improvise at the last minute when I first needed one. Since then, there hasn''t been much of a need for speed. I can simply crawl on the ceiling, and no one else under my employ uses this passage regularly." "I''ll have to remedy that. My time is valuable, Silhouette." "Well, you''ll be disappointed. We''ll need to wait for the others to finish their sleep to introduce you to them. Though it''s possible Techlord might still be working at this hour. The boy has no sane sleeping schedule." "Ah yes, your mysterious inventor." With nothing to do and not much to discuss the trip seemed to go on infinitely. Decanov''s inner clock revealed it was less than an hour in total, even when accounting for the initial walk down dark corridors and the following bit of bureaucracy in the unexpected office they reached, though it aligned with the rumors the doctor heard about the Sunken City and the many checkpoints one could use to descend to the lawless pit. Mercifully, a somewhat functional car waited for them and made the journey to their final destination much shorter. The sight of the repurposed orphanage gave the engineer pause, as did the sight of a tall translucent figure phasing through a wall to open the gate and door for them. The Draskian took a moment to stare at his host as they entered the undoubtedly haunted site. "Was that a ghost?" "Yes. Stay clear of the small ones, they''re harmless but like to play pranks and the others are very protective of them." "In the future, please inform me of spiritual activity in advance." "Not a fan of specters? None of them would posses you if that is your worry." "No, I am equipped for such a situation. Simply, technology and the supernatural have a tendency not to mix well. Why, a lesser design might be dysfunctioning right now." "I''ll keep it in mind. Now, I''m sorry but we''ll have to wait. Even Techlord is asleep it seems." "It is what it is. I suppose I could take a look around and see how I can improve the place." "Thank you, doctor." "You haven''t seen the bill yet." Chapter 148 : Doctor at the orphanage "So, how is your inspection so far doctor?" Ivan Decanov had been walking through what he had been informed was a haunted orphanage for hours now, exploring every nook and cranny aside from the barracks where the still living and fleshy guards were currently resting, leaving the security to the restless specters floating through the halls. The ethereal undead had been pleasantly behaved, with only the small ones approaching him enough to be within arm''s reach, and even then they had made sure not to get too close or surprise him. They simply looked from around corners or over his shoulder, watching his every move with wonder. Knowing the age and location of the place, he likely was the first true robot they ever saw. Considering the size difference between the souls and what sort of establishment this used to be, he couldn''t bring himself to be too mad about their curiosity. "My part is going wonderfully, but whoever you had play with the electrical installations here was much less impressive. It''s functional, but it''s clear this is less an electrician''s work and closer to a carjacker crossing some wires. If you want me to install a new generator here and a security system, we''ll have to start over, perhaps even tear down some walls." "Couldn''t the spirits operate instead, with only a small opening for cables and wires to pass through?" "Perhaps. I''m unsure as to their competency, but I suppose I could keep an eye on them. Running a few tests beforehand with a training wall would be safer." "I''m sure we can do something about that. You must admit, having ghosts to help you would hasten things tremendously." "Phasing through walls is a useful ability, one we could work to replicate. I am aware of some Supers with such equipment, but rather than use full suits for thievery, simple gloves for directly accessing internals without a need for openings would be quite remarkable, not only would it save time but it would also be safer. My father had some of my most fragile parts welded shut, for instance." "I''ll see if my inventor can investigate further. Perchance he might even figure something out with our alien friend''s body." "Ah yes, my scientific predecessor under your employ. I suppose you will invite him to take a look at the creature too?" "I sent him a message. Knowing him, if he isn''t too busy preparing products-" From the office they were in they could hear the front door opening and the rapid footsteps of someone who wasn''t exactly pleased. The newcomer''s rant began before he even reached the stairs, and the youthful voice and lack of reaction of Silhouette let Decanov realize this was likely the man they were waiting for. "I AM ALREADY OVERWORKED AS IS, WHAT NEW MADNESS DO YOU WANT TO DROP ON MY LAP-" Techlord turned around the corner, and his eyes widened as he met the doctor''s optics who was equally surprised. He knew the tinkerer was young, but not quite to this point. He was more of a boy than a man, possibly sixteen, though he had clearly experienced more things than many adults did. The strange black bodysuit covered in bizarre gadgets and protrusions he wore left only his head exposed, but that was more than enough to reveal terrible scars: marks of burns that had devoured the flesh, robbing the body of all hair and nearly melting off the nose and ears, as well as of cuts and grafts from the procedures that had saved his life. Had it not been for the shape of the skull covered by this healed charred flesh, the doctor wouldn''t have been sure of his estimate. The reddened skin covered in what could best be described as craters of even gorier scarring showed this was the work of flames and not acid, and it appeared to have healed sufficiently well. The boy was screaming merely seconds ago, after all. Still, the scientist was left to wonder: what happened to him? "Boss, who is that robot, and what the hell is that thing on your desk?" "Greetings, Techlord. It''s been far too long since we last saw each other. Allow me to introduce Doctor Ivan Decanov, the engineer currently working on the machinery to mass-produce your designs. Doctor, this is the brilliant mind I told you about." The robot took a closer look at the suit the boy was wearing and noticed there was more thought put behind its design than he first assumed. It was botched work without a doubt, but there was potential beneath the crude craftsmanship and poor choice of materials. He''d seen less intelligent designs used by Mecha Man, not that the technology-oriented Hero was held in high esteem in the Draskian''s metaphorical heart. Still, judging by his scarring, he doubted the so-called inventor was as remarkable as he once thought, especially since he appeared to be a local to these ruins. What could he know of modern science? The analysis didn''t only go one way, the native to the slums was just as curious about his counterpart. The pristine cut of his parts and the cleanliness of his metal didn''t seem to align with manual work, as unblemished as the scientist and his clothes were. His serious air and naturally hostile expression didn''t help make the orphan see him in a better light, being far too reminded of the pompous supposedly educated people who let this part of the city fall to ruin and put no effort into fixing it, far too happy with having a place to dump their dangerous and faulty work. Techlord would know; he grew up in the Junkland, the graveyard of advanced unstable technology people like him had no choice but to risk their lives to make enough money to guarantee themselves another day of living, only for the cycle to begin anew. "Really, boss? You got yourself a fancy city-dweller? He doesn''t seem like the type to get his hands dirty." The robot scoffed as he approached the boy, his mechanical frame towering above the malnourished youth. "Let me return the disdain: I am incredibly disappointed to see what I hoped to be an intellectual equal is naught but a child playing in the mud." "Fancy way of saying you don''t how to hit a nail, buddy." "If hitting nails is the pinnacle of your technological knowledge, I have a revolutionary idea to introduce: have you heard of fire, little caveman?" "Sure. I can show you, if you want, I have this neat little thing I can shove right up your-" "Enough." The two tinkerers turned in synch toward their employer, and both knew better than to let their temper win when faced with a whole wall of shadows curling and unfurling madly, putting no effort in hiding the annoyance of Silhouette. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. "Gentlemen, I expected better from you. In any case, to answer your question, the creature here is the reason I called you: this alien showcased a remarkable ability, and I wanted to see if you perhaps could make use of its body." "Boss, I am drowning in requests and repairs. And, a friendly reminder, my shtick is making miracles with metal, not butchering weird animals. If you want meat stuff, call the Patcher." "Techlord." "Sorry. I''m just on edge. But still, can''t ya call one of those weirdos?" "Luckily, I already did. They should be arriving any minute now." "Should I expect them to kick down the door as your intern did?" "Who are you calling an intern?!" "Hush. And no, though I have no doubt they will come, they are not part of this group. They have business to attend to. Also, the staff would stop them at the entrance and not simply let them in. In the meantime, I believe it is time for you to meet our intelligence branch. Mischief, take it from here." From dark corners of the room emerged furry shapes, black rats the size of cats with a far sharper look in their eyes than any vermin should have. One of them stood out from the rest, one of his front limbs not being made of flesh and bone but rather solid shadows not unlike Silhouette''s body, though the rodent''s appendage was more translucent. Decanov knew he was now facing the creatures that had been keeping an eye on him - or at the very, those that represented them as a whole. "Mischief, is it?" He wasn''t overly surprised to see the leading mammal step forward and speak, though the clarity of his words and the audible age in his voice did catch him off-guard. "In a way. We are a family, a mischief. I am their elder, Polisson. It is reassuring to see you are now trusted, doctor. It will make our work easier." "Oh? How so?" "That''s for us to know, doctor." "Mischief might as well be independent. Polisson does a wonderful job keeping track of everything, as well as selecting what information is worth sharing." "I am honored, master." "I can always respect a talented manager. May I ask, is the ethereal limb your work?" "Yes, and no. Polisson was already missing the limb when we met, and this elemental prosthetic came to be when he willingly embraced my shadows." "I see. May I ask the exact extent of your tests concerning living organisms?" "What for, doctor?" "Knowing exactly what I''m working with is essential. There is also much that could be done with your powers, depending on your exact reach." "You signed a contract, and you have proven to be brutally honest and true to your word so far. Fine. The rats of Mischief are the only willing subjects I''ve had, though I''ve also infused people. You should remember the guards at the Penumbral Palace." "The silent and efficient ones, yes. Could you elaborate?" "Their bodies are tweaked, improved without modifying them past their initial species. Their coloration darkens to be as close to black as possible. Their minds are the most mystifying aspect so far. They retain their memories and intelligence, but their personalities are purged. They also share a mental connection, not enough to be a true hivemind, but more than capable of helping them coordinate and communicate between short distances." "Tell me, what is your definition of a hivemind?" "A single will directing multiple bodies." "Somewhat accurate vernacularly, but not perfect. A hivemind isn''t quite a will, more so a shared instinct of sorts, though it can be somewhat detected by psychic means. Simply think of the first hive that comes to mind: bees. They are individuals all working for a greater goal by instinct, yet they remain different entities. What you describe here fits the scientific definition of a hivemind, though the people have gotten used to using it to describe a different phenomenon." "Fascinating. What is the proper name of a single mind directing multiple bodies, then?" "A gestalt. Even then your definition isn''t perfect here either. There is no need to have multiple bodies for a gestalt to manifest, simply for different minds to work alongside one another to become a single individual. Even in this scenario, there are different levels. To put it in blunt metaphors, you wouldn''t put two children in a trenchcoat at the same level as a siphonophore. The rogue ancient AI you gave me, for instance, somewhat fits this category: G433 is an amalgamation of multiple simpler AIs fused in a brutish way, and though he manages to act as a single mind most of the time, his components do have varying opinions and sometimes clash." "This is all very interesting, doctor, though I can''t help but notice you used the present tense here. Are you keeping up with the latest ongoing of my would-be killer?" "You never told me not to. My friend is overseeing his internment and therapy, and as I am the one who brought her the little maniac, she keeps me updated. Not that I believe for one second the psychotic piece of software is improving as fast as she says, not genuinely at the very least. I''ve seen its code, I know what it is made of, and there is no possible way for it to develop a socially acceptable mind without years of intense treatment and sessions of reprogramming." "I wouldn''t resent you for your handling of the problem, considering I''m the one who told you to do as you wished. If anything, I''m happy you keep track of him since he''s alive. I have a feeling if he is as unrepentant as you claim, he might try something stupid when he gets out." "I''ll keep it in mind." A knock came at the door and a tentacle opened it, revealing an armed guard wearing somewhat different gear from the ones on the surface. "Uh, boss? The usual trio is at the gate. Also, George wanted to know if you could drop by the stables later, to show you the progress on the spiders and thank you personally." "Thank you. Doctor, allow me to introduce you to one of the members of the Shadow Commando. They are the non-infused agents that keep things running down here in my absence, under Techlord and Polisson''s shared supervision." "Ouh, a shiny bot!" "I think I preferred the specters." "The kids or the nuns? The younglings are great, just a little mischievous, but the ladies... Brrh. Worse than my aunt Velma." "I confirm my preference for the paranormal." "Uh, what''s that mean boss?" "Don''t worry, just head back out and let them in. Also, let George know the doctor and I will take a look at this work. Techlord, what about you?" "What?" "Did you take a look at our eight-legged cattle yet? Have you pondered how to best use the resources they produce?" "Boss, I have dozens of things to oversee. You think I have the time to watch over bugs?" "Arachnids, you little barbarian. Spiders are arachnids, not bugs. And if I recall correctly, they are the pillar of the new textile industry your employer wishes to expand into. They are more important than your little party costume." "Oh, sorry, mister metal face. Sorry that I value my life more than a quick buck. I beat down supers with this suit, and even put together a mech that let me survive Sunburn. What did you do I should know about, uh?" The metal man scoffed. Big words from a clumsy youth trying to cover his mistakes with "I did as I was asked by Silhouette. I created a reliable energy source for a facility larger than this one, and am on the path to updating and upgrading every speck of technology he may ever need. I have obtained several doctorates and studied for longer than you have been alive. I have fashioned designs that would have sent this city to the highs of fame and development if it weren''t for the traitorous incompetence of the local populace. More importantly, I was not stupid enough to get into a fight with the most powerful man in this city, nor so much of a cretin I would pride myself on surviving a burning incident through sheer luck. If you could have dealt with the flames alone, they wouldn''t have marked you so." Decanov expected rage. All he got from the petulant child was mere anger, and even that was overwhelmed by disdain. "I survived in the deadliest parts of Zalcien. What did you live through?" The robot was ready to continue, but shadows grasped him and the boy and dragged them out of the room, though they made sure to keep them in the air and away from the walls they might bump into. "I thought geniuses were supposed to be above the level of toddlers. Behave. We have a mage and his friends to see." Chapter 149 : A robot runs into a cyborg, a beast, and a wizard... Being put back down from the shadows'' hold onto the dirty ground of the Sunken City did little to lessen the humiliation Decanov felt at being treated no better than an unruly pet. Judging by the grimace on his scarred face, the boy who called himself an inventor fared no better on that matter. That made one thing they had in common, he supposed. At the very least the two wouldn''t have to be manhandled any further, though the little time they had spent in this compromising position in front of Silhouette''s latest guests was more than enough to keep the two calmer than usual, too busy holding onto their bruised egos to fight any further. Still, the engineer would be a poor scientist if he let something as trivial as appearances and emotions get in the way of his analytical mind. The new trio of individuals waiting before the orphanage, past its front gate but still a healthy distance from the door the doctor, the youth, and their common employer had just exited from, wary specters already peeking out of the walls behind them to keep an eye on the meeting. Having ghosts watching did wonders to dissuade anyone from trying anything untoward. Few were ready to handle the paranormal, especially a group on their territory. The locals were a mixed bag. A tall pale creature, humanoid by the loosest terms; a human in the second half of his lifespan, certainly a wizard judging by his eccentric robes; and a poor excuse of a cyborg, her arm a pitiful pile of scraps put together with the unnecessary flair flourish those fools with dreams of apotheosis via metal all shared. The lot was a sorry sight, perfectly at home in these ruins of Zalcien''s past. Still, there had to be some value to them if they were deemed worth meeting. "Everyone, this is my latest contact from the surface, the doctor Ivan Decanov. Doctor, allow me to introduce our neighbors, each an expert in their field who is more than happy to provide a service, for a fee of course." On the one hand, being introduced without his authorization annoyed the engineer somewhat. On the other hand, his was a face easy to recognize, and at no point did he mention he preferred to stay anonymous for this outing. If anything, he had been the one asking to be connected to the rest of Silhouette''s activities. Still, he''d take the time to bring us this issue later. The robot would usually have no trouble complaining, but his favorable view of the shadowy man combined with his earlier humiliation did cool his temper. For the short term, that is. A black tendril guided his gaze toward the wizard first, his blackened hand pulling at his beard, a long sinuous thin strand of hair that turned from white at its base to black at the tip, not unlike a recently used wick. "This is Mesker Duskenfer, a wondrous sorcerer, as well as our provider of magical contracts." "My expertise lies in exorcism, particularly of the demonic sort, but lately I found myself becoming a consultant for all matters regarding the arcane." Given the pointed stare the fiery eyes of the mage sent Silhouette''s way, Decanov could easily guess who was responsible for changing his routine. He could empathize, but at the same time, he was more than aware the dark polite troublemaker brought more good than ill. It was always good to have someone who could deal with unnatural matters at hand, a fair share of the bizarre world of magic escaping the scientist''s grasp. It was even better to have someone versed in dealing with demons around. Those bloodthirsty beasts had a habit of jumping into any spatial rift accidentally created during experiments, and though Decanov was talented enough to avoid causing any such incident himself, he had been present for one. Two floors down from his temporary workshop, an idiot caused a fracture in their lab that let in one of the children of chaos. Luckily the Union arrived swiftly, and the casualties were kept low, though they did keep the doctor under heavy surveillance for a week, thinking he was the reason behind the accident. The metal man extended an arm, and the mage in turn shook his hand. "I can appreciate a man who keeps those creatures away." "Ay. However, do try to stay cautious. I know Silhouette can take care of the common demon, but it''d be much simpler to call me if anything happens. Your people have a crystal ball for that." The scientist fought back the urge to raise one of his prominent eyebrows. He had not been informed of this matter. He knew his employer had some talent, he had survived an encounter with Abrakaboom after all, even if the Villain had merely been playing, but taking care of a demon without any exorcism training was remarkable. Either the black figure knew more than he let on, or he had more offensive power than some crime lords did. Either way, he wouldn''t complain about a stronger protector. "Next is Motiro, a pack leader." The strange pale humanoid, a digitigrade creature with a long neck that led to a too-wide head crowned by short thick horns pointing to the sides, let a rumbling hum echo from its chest to its throat, its beady black eyes making its stare harder to decipher. It tilted its head, its long flopping ears dangling with the movement as the muscled flap of skin that acted as its upper lip that went on to cover the lower half of its face twitched idly once or twice. "We track, we hunt, we fetch. Dead or alive. We also trade our flesh and prey, machine." This time he did move his eyebrows, though it wasn''t born out of curiosity or confusion but a wave of growing anger. Not at the creature''s services, for even he could benefit from alchemical materials in his designs, but at its choice of words when addressing him. The facial gesture was accompanied by the clenching of his fist, the sound of his metal fingers curling becoming much louder in the tense silence. "What did you just call me?" This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The last of the three, the dark-skinned Amazonian cyborg''s eyes alighting with realization behind her black glasses, leading to her quickly stepping up between the robot and the beast, the latter''s lip pulling up from its face, revealing the fearsome fangs in its jaws. "Call down, fancy pants. Motiro ain''t being racist, that''s just a speech pattern thing. It calls everyone by what it sees ''em as. Mesker''s wizard, I''m cyborg, tall and gloomy over there is shadow, short and cranky is pup..." The beast stopped its snarl and lowered its erringly long arms, claws relaxing. "Was this the source of your rage? I apologize if my words wound you, robot." The robot huffed. "Apology taken. ''Robot'' will do for now." Everyone calmed down, and some didn''t bother hiding their sigh of relief as the conflict in the making was defused. The wizard shook his head, his blackened forearms crossed in front of his chest. "What a childish reason to spark your wrath. For a scholar, you have a tumultuous temper." "There is no better reason to let loose the fire in one''s heart than the dismissal of their personhood, primate, even if it is done via a weaponized truth." The old mage let out a minuscule burst of air through his nose, his pink eyes looking to the side as he spoke once more. "Fair enough." The cyborg faked a cough, bringing the attention back to herself, her thumb pointing to herself. "Anyway, you met the twig and the killer, so now''s my turn. Marie Musaraigne, my big thing''s cybernetics, but I can do pretty much anything with enough copper and duct tape. I''m the tech to see in these parts." The metal man looked at her artificial arm, the white surface making way for transparent plastic at times to reveal the veins of glowing blue fluids beneath. He grimaced and scoffed. "Please, do not mock me. If you are an expert, then I''m a god. That arm of yours puts so much focus on aesthetics it foregoes practicality. It would only take a flick of a finger to disarm you, and make all the auxiliary systems you installed in yourself useless without their primary power source." "The hell are you saying, rectangle face? Who are you to judge a design? You''re just a Draskian pile of bolts, barely able to walk." Her words only met the dead stare of the engineer whose only answer was to prove his claim by stepping forward and lightly hitting one of her blue veins with one of his cubic fingertips. Her arm rattled, its glow flickered on and off, and at once flowing liquid froze and turned black. The mage and the beast exchanged a look as they watched their common friendly acquaintance''s face grow red, and both silently vowed to search for a third party to check on all systems she had installed for them. "That wasn''t a flick you jerk! That thing''s reinforced, you had to put a ton of force behind that!" The lights of her arm turned back on and returned life to the limb just in time for her to point her finger at the robot''s unimpressed face. "You aware that this material doesn''t absorb vibrations, no? It is resilient enough to withstand hits on its own, but not stop kinetic force from spreading inside. Remove some of your luxury add-ons and you''ll have the space to rework a proper defensive structure, as well as more protection for whatever energy source you choose." The cyborg''s pride was wounded, but hearing constructive criticism rather than mere insults and accusations did ground her enough to simply roll her eyes. "Whatever. I don''t need the approval of a guy who wears a lab coat with no shirt to do my thing. I''m the best technician in these parts, and my apprentices and I are your best shot at getting anything done without getting a blackout or an electrocution." Her two oldest neighbors reluctantly gave up on their recent vow. She wasn''t wrong, even if occasionally things did catch fire or produced sparks. Not to mention the trio had a good relationship and had agreed on lowering their fees when dealing with one another. Motiro needed resources to protect their nest and feed the pack while Mesker would rather spend his money for his experiments than make sure his fridge wouldn''t explode. If worst came to worst, he could just go back to his previous appliances of enchanted objects. They were wasteful and had the nasty habit of tainting everything with odd smells and tastes, but they worked. Two dark tendrils rising from the neighboring shadows hit one another in an odd clap, and all present turned to Silhouette. "If everyone is done with pleasantries and sowing the seeds of discord, I did not simply call you here for an introduction to the good doctor. I have something I hope some of you can help me with. Behold." More tentacles moved and deployed what had at first appeared to be a strange rolled-up carpet, but revealed itself to be a strange and alien lifeform, somewhat similar to a cross between a ray and a jellyfish and whose underside acted as some sort of invisibility veil. The reactions were mixed. Marie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at the sight of the body, Motiro''s dot-like nostrils flared as its claws flexed from its fingertips, and Mesker hummed in appreciation, lightly pulling at his beard. "What''s that, a failed invisibility cape?" "No, cyborg. This is a kill, a fresh one at that. A prey not of this realm." "Indeed, this is a beast that does not belong to this realm." "Allow me to elaborate: I struck down this creature while in Zalcien, and I believe it might be the infamous Nightsnatcher. It showed no sign of sapience, though it had some animal intelligence in the way it tried to hunt." "Nightsnatcher? The thing that even the Union can''t find? You''re sure, dark lord? No offense, but if the big buys couldn''t catch it, how could you?" "He told, Musaraigne. The beast hunted him, not the other way around." "Yes. Many a predator meet their end not by another''s fangs but by the struggle of their prey. It likely noticed the danger the Heroes posed, but failed to see the same in you, shadow." "While I am thankful for your feedback, these are things I''m already aware of. Could any of you tell me more on what this creature could be, and where it might have come from?" "What are you looking at me for? Weirdos like that aren''t in my portfolio." "Its scent. It is a predator, but no master of its territory, marked by death but also fear. A nomad, ever moving, ever hunting. Its body... This is a lost lamb, separated from the pack, no, the school." "Like fish?" "Yes. Strength in numbers, both to eat and not be eaten. But this one... You said it attacked alone? Then its kin isn''t here. It would have joined them otherwise." "Thank you, Motiro. Mesker, what of you?" "Yes, yes, I expected myself to be your true target. I might have to alter my prices if you keep on calling me to be your magical guide. Still, I believe I can help. This entity''s morphology would make it either spatial, eldritch, or abyssal and thanks to Motiro''s analysis, I can narrow this down. Abyssals rarely form groups, and that white skin further drives me away from this hypothesis. Yes, I believe what we have here is a bottom feeder of the void, though whether that is the emptiness of space or the hollow between realities still eludes me." "Couldn''t you analyze its mana? Is that not what you did with me?" "Who do you take me for, an acolyte? I already did. Sadly, creatures of these spaces tend to naturally block such scrying. All manners of detection grow much more effective when the regular senses are useless, and the means of hiding do so as well. The bizarre properties its maw shows lead me to think it is eldritch. It would take a much more developed examination to be sure. With my tools. And my rituals." "I get the message. Since you''re the only one with a clear idea, sure, I''ll entrust it to you. There is something else I''d like for us to discuss when you come back with the results." It was about time James finally got proper magic lessons. Chapter 150 : A new ratty home James dropped the two heavy suitcases he had been carrying in his hands before reflexively wiping his brow with the back of his hand, the five little furry children hiding behind him poking their heads from his legs and back to stare at the door they had stopped in front of. "Is this the place, papa? It looks a little... Blemished." "Why would father stop here otherwise?" Blanche the diva rolled her eyes at her sterner sister''s remark, unsatisfied with the quality of their accommodations. James, using his human form clothed in casual streetwear, chuckled at their antics. Judging by the squeaky noises, he wasn''t the only one that David put no effort into hiding. "Come on, you''ve lived in sewers before, a small apartment won''t be that bad. Besides, I''ve seen the inside, it''s nice." Her head tilt and squinted eyes showed she didn''t share his enthusiasm. He''d do well to try and quell her rising standards. He was fine with letting her be the princess she wanted, but only so long as she didn''t let that get in the way of her or others'' lives. He''d hate for her to become the classic bully from all of those stupid high school shows. Well, her dreams of Heroism showed she had a kind heart beneath that pristine white fur and expensive shampoo. Seriously, she represented half of the money he spent on the kids. Not that the others asked for anything, but still. As he picked up his keys from his pocket, James took the time to fully embrace this moment. This was it. They were finally moving into their new home, a haven for them free from the chaos and danger of the slums. A place where the ratlings could grow and mature, not as intelligent monsters stuck in the filth of Zalcien''s worst parts but simply as children - a place for them to live normal lives, without worrying about surviving yet another day. Sure, they had been safe and well-fed for a while now, but it wasn''t the same. They would have been stuck in James'' shadow whereas now they were free to choose their fates. As a parent, he''d still make sure they wouldn''t get themselves in trouble, but going to school would open the doors to education and socialization, things he wouldn''t be able to give them on his lonesome. With a twist the door unlocked and the kids ran in, leaving James alone as he picked the luggage back up. He shook his head with a chuckle as he followed after them, and much like back in the park where he met Marie Merry, he knew he would have a smile on his face if he could, watching them behold everything in amazement, an appropriate childish innocence in their eyes as they scurried on the wooden panels of the floor, hopped onto the cushions of the couch in the small living room, and watched through the windows the busyness of the street of a few floors down. This was the first time they got to experience true furniture, and James was glad he made sure to replace the old rackety scraps of wood that came with the apartment beforehand. It wouldn''t do for one of the kids to cut themselves on a loose broken spring or to get chips stuck in their paws. The place wasn''t quite the drug addict lair he expected someone like Froko to find, but it did take a full day of cleaning and transporting furniture to make this truly feel like a home. Being capable of parallel thoughts and forming as many limbs and tools as necessary was useful for more than just combat. James would probably make a killing as a handyman. If the whole Silhouette thing went nowhere or if he found a found to duplicate himself or something similar to Solvent''s situation, it''d be something worth considering. He''d just have to do it out of sight so that people wouldn''t make the connection between his civilian self and his far less humanoid counterpart. "Come on kids, don''t play rough inside. I''d like to have scratchless stuff for once." Cats were adorable critters. They also were absolute jerks with no care for rules and a mad love for using their claws on everything but their toys. Blanche sagely nodded as she held Foudre floating in the air, the psychic albino diva putting her dirty gadget-wearing sister down from the couch before whatever contraption she wore could ruin the grey fabric. David, from the top of a column of a metal skeleton covered by wooden plates that served as both a shoe rack and coat hanger, rolled his eyes as he sat up, his paw pushing against the wall barely a head below the ceiling. "Seriously, old man? Not even a minute in and we''re already doing this?" Lucille, far from amused by the antics of her savage of a younger brother, crossed her front limbs in front of her furry chest as she addressed him, her hair reflecting the light oddly, as though they were thin strands of metal. "David, you are a jump away from crawling on the ceiling. Father is right to set some ground rules now rather than wait for you to break something he will have to replace. Or someone who will call the police on you." The bloodthirsty rodent rolled his eyes but complied, holding one of the metal bars in his paws before letting himself fall, his pouting look quickly making way for joyous laughter as the speed kicked in. Who knew it''d be easier to play the firefighter when smaller? Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Goliath looked upon his troublemaking brother''s game enviously, but unlike his sibling the largest and oldest of the litter could keep his urges in check. He also knew that being twice the size of the youngest, he''d be likelier to make the piece of furniture fall than successfully slide down. "Kids, kids. I want to make something clear: you won''t be free to mess around here as much as before, but that doesn''t make it less of a home or place for you to be happy. We''ll see about getting you toys and games and all that fun stuff, but there will also be rules. You don''t need to worry about bland stone, but fabric and plastic are much more fragile." James lowered himself to the ground and the ratlings gathered before him. "I trust you. I know you will do your best. I just need you to understand that this is a new life for us. A new world, with new rules, some of which go completely against the old ones. It''s fine if it takes you time to adapt. It''s fine if you''re confused, scared, angry, or sad. All I want in return is for you to try. Try to understand, try to adapt. I don''t need or want you to discard everything you are to be just like the others, just for you to do the bare minimum so that we can live together. So that you can see more of the world than dark tunnels and whatever hole I decide to hide in." Tendrils bore out of his wrists, his hands still holding onto the luggage, and the new black limbs went on to hug each of the children, gently wrapping around them without restricting their movement. "You need to understand the people you save if you wanna be the best Heroes ever, no?" The rodents smiled as one and pushed into the hug, the mass of fur pressing against his shirt and exposed shadowy flesh. "We will honor you, father." "We won''t get you in trouble, Dad." "We will be the most pristine in the school, I''ll make sure of it papa." "We won''t do anything stupid, daddy." "I''ll stab the first idiot who tries anything." All five heads turned to the notable outlier. "What? I said if they tried to. I know you can''t stab people who haven''t done anything. Well you can, but then the police get involved." "With every passing day, I further question if you truly share our dream of becoming a Hero team, brother." "Do not bother, oh ruthless sister of mine. The fool simply lacks the intelligence to understand." "Say I''m stupid again and I''ll shear you like a sheep." Goliath gasped before taking his brother and white sister in a hug, pressing them hard against his chest. "Please don''t fight!" "Goliath, if you don''t let go of me right now-" The younger of the two brothers looked into his elder''s eyes before turning his head away with a click of the tongue. "Fine. Fine! I''ll play nice, but miss high and mighty over there gotta play nice too." James faked a cough to catch the children''s attention. "I do agree with David on this. Yes, he is violent and aggressive and will need to work on his attitude, but that doesn''t mean the rest of you are free to do whatever. Blanche, your brother isn''t wrong to say you have a nasty habit of having more venom than words in your speech." "But papa!" "Tut! I understand being annoyed at people or disliking things they do, but that doesn''t mean you have to vocalize it, especially not such mean-spiritedly. You can''t complain about your brother''s bad mood when you goad him so often." "Sigh, yes papa..." "Lucille, you have no idea how much I appreciate the work you put into herding these cats-" "Dad, we''re rats." "-but you need to learn how to relax. You''ll be kids at school, not soldiers at war. I''m sure your teachers will love your discipline, but you are still young. Embrace your childhood. You don''t need to worry about death around the corner all the time anymore." "Understood, Father." "Again, I''m not asking to change who you are. Just remember to have fun." David fell on his back and rolled on the ground, his front limbs hitting the ground in a mad fit of squeaky laughter. Blanche tried to keep appearances, but it was clear she struggled to keep her amusement concealed, or at the very least to downplay it. Her cheeks puffing up to the sides of her snout were proof she wasn''t doing a good job. The glare coming from their sister did little to douse their fun. "What about me, dad? What''s the big social thing I gotta work on?" "Honestly Foudre? You seem fine to me. Just try to tone down the mad scientist vibe with all the gadgets." "Hey, I''m not the one making them." "I know. It''d just be a shame if you fried another kid''s hair because you were playing with your toy of the day." "Fine. I promise." "Thank you." The young rat raised her chin high in pride, her zigzagging tail sliding on the floor as she pivoted to put her paws on her hips. "And Goliath..." The largest of the bunch looked up, his front limbs held close with one paw over the other, his muzzle twitching. "Yes, Daddy?" "You''re a sweetheart. Just... Don''t forget some people are mean. Don''t let them walk over you. Don''t hesitate to call your siblings or me for help." "I promise I will! I''ll be a strong boy!" "You''re already one. You''re a much better person than I was at your age." The older of the two males of the litter sniffed, grateful for the compliment. James chuckled as he patted all five of their heads one last time before rising back up and clapping his two tendrils together. "Alright, enough sappy stuff. Who''s ready to help me decorate your room?" "Yeah!" "No pink!" "You will be sorely disappointed, beastly brother of mine." "Hey!" James laughed out loud once again and went to follow the furry children as they scurried away, racing towards what would be their shared bedroom despite having no idea of the apartment''s layout. It wasn''t much, but it was enough to make him feel safe. The fact he had used proxy Infused to occupy every other dwelling in the small building helped him feel more at ease, and he knew friendly watchful eyes would keep track of the surroundings. Their tunnel network had expanded, and though he couldn''t infuse things willy-nilly as usual to avoid drawing attention to himself, Mischief''s cunning and fleeting nature made them more than apt at laying low. Mistakes would cost them more than usual, but he had faith in them. They had tracked down Medraw in her escape. They managed to operate flawlessly down in the Sunken City. They had avoided detection from the usual dwellers of the tunnels. Rodents were already sneaky creatures, upgrading them with shadows and whatever shenanigans his powers were up only made them better suited at stealth and spying. He could only hope exterminators weren''t better at their jobs in this world. Chapter 151 : Exterminator extraordinaire "Uh, hello? Hello? Is this Brutazap''s Termination service?" "Why yes, you''re talking to the man himself! What can I do for you today, stranger?" "Well, lately we''ve noticed things running under our windows at night. I managed to glance a peek, and... There were rats." "Ah, rodent infestation. Seems the nasty little buggers aren''t necessarily in your home yet though, might be nesting at one of your neighbors'' places. It would be a mighty help if you could ask for their approval for my investigation. Saves loads of time." "Uh, yes. Uhm, but, those weren''t normal rats." "Ah, I''m used to the weird stuff. You should''ve seen the swarm of burning bouncing beans I had to deal with last month. Nasty worms those, the poor guy had left his goods unprotected and they rushed in on the opportunity." "Uhm, well, for starters they were black. Everywhere." "Sure it wasn''t the dark of the night? That can do stuff to your eyes. Not doubting you, by the way, could be a case of the shade crawlers. They ain''t too dangerous compared to mundane rodents, but still a pain to have nearby, especially once they start eating your shadow." "They WHAT? And, oh, uh, they were black, for sure. I found some stray hair the morning after, black as coal. Also, they were big. Like, very big. I''d say as big as cats." "Ah, well those ain''t shadies then. Too large. Say, I''ll drop by... Is tomorrow fine?" "Yes! Yes, please save us from those-" "Sorry stranger, I won''t be exterminating them right away. I told ya, gotta look into things first. Wouldn''t want to empower them instead of terminating them, ya know? But it''ll let me know what we''re dealing with, and how to get rid of it. Try to hang onto some of that hair you found, it''ll prove mighty useful." "I kept it in a box." "Wonderful. Say, there''s something I need to handle right now, so just send your address and when you''re available by text. I''ll get back to you to share when I''ll drop, is that fine with you?" "Oh, of course! So long as you can-" "Get rid of the pests, of course! It''ll also be great to discuss payment. Don''t worry, if you decide to back out I won''t charge for my time so far. I''m a nice fella like that." "Thank you, Brutazap." "No problem, buddy." Welch "Brutazap" Almaro ended the call and put his phone back where it belonged in the front pocket of his blue overalls. Few expected a man like him to enjoy the rural aesthetic, going as far as to wear a red plaided shirt. He had been tempted by straw hats a long while back, but ultimately the much simpler yellow cap with a crossed-out cockroach fitted him much better. He might like the style, but he didn''t want to be confused for a farmer. The man in his late thirties took off his cap and let his short dirty blonde locks free as he shook his head. He liked the hat, and after a few seconds of doing nothing he was quick to put it back on, but sometimes it did feel a little stuffy. The fresh air did wonders for the hair, as they say. Though he did have a bit of a beer gut, the way his muscles flexed as he climbed down the ladder he was about to descend when he received this call revealed he was far from unfit. Oh, he wouldn''t be at home in a bodybuilding competition or whatever big fighting sports was going strong at the time, but he made sure to stay in good enough shape to stay healthy and more importantly, wrangle any beastie that might get the bright idea of taking a bite. The fact he could likely knock down most non-Cored with a single punch was just icing on the cake. Not that he got into fights often. It was just something nice to have, an ace up his sleeve in a way. The Latilian man knew how important it was to have secrets and trump cards at the ready. Hell, it was what he was doing right now, going down a secret entrance in the sewer tunnels beneath his home city of Zalcien. That knack for navigating intrigue came from his education, not that he had a bad relationship with his family or anything. Some would call them the mafia. He preferred to think of it as a very large extended family that cared for one another and was ready to help in times of need, even if it meant cleaning up nasty messes or lighting the fireplace in the middle of summer. One of the good things about coming from the Almaro family was that they were mild-mannered. They didn''t make big waves, few in the public knew about them and even cops weren''t all clued in on what they did, but they still packed enough of a punch to keep the other more infamous groups at bay. Not that many of them got the bright idea of messing with this family, they made sure to keep their operations on the smaller side of things and avoid intruding on others'' turf. Who knew not giving in to greed was the best way to avoid making enemies? Another good thing about the Almaro family was that, so long as you didn''t complain about the family business, they didn''t mind you doing your own thing. Sure, his grandma had done her best to convince him to stay and keep the tradition, not just out of love but also because the godmother she was saw the potential his powers had, but in the end, even she accepted that Melch wasn''t one for the mafioso life. Too much trouble for his taste. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Sure, exterminating pests wasn''t as glamorous as what people pictured the crime families doing, but he''d take vermin over people any day. Sicklers may be nasty violent beasties with far too many sharp bits for anyone''s good, but they were animals, simple and predictable. He''d take a stampede of those living knives over a single dude with a gun any day. You never knew what the idiot would do. Besides, he had a good gig. Sure, a regular exterminator might be more willing to risk a criminal life for a chance at a better paycheck, but not Brutazap! He wouldn''t go as far as to call himself the greatest at his job in the world but in the city? Few could claim to rival him in this field. Aside from the folks over at the Union and in the police, that is. They were the ones making sure he wouldn''t be overworked by conducting purges in the sewers and around the slums whenever things got far too out of hand. He''d complain, but he quite enjoyed not having to fight hordes that troubled Heroes to deal with. Still, this was an odd situation. The winter had come, and by this point, most vermin went to their little hidey holes. Not to say they didn''t sneak into people''s homes, but they would be too discreet to be noticed. Hell, it was why he took the call himself instead of letting his autonomous system handle it, he didn''t have anything planned for weeks. Rats making a mess could just mean a mischief that''s been awoken from their hibernation early, but they would be way groggier than the things this client described, and they would more likely just try to find a new spot after eating a snack or two thousand than keep patrolling the same place. Welch paused as he reached the last rung of the ladder. Patrolling. Now wasn''t that an interesting choice of word? It was good he was already in his little secret place, this new train of thought urged him to pick up more than he needed for a little investigation. See, loath as he was to admit his family name had something to do with how quickly he rose to fame as an exterminator extraordinaire, it was true. However, just being an Almaro kid wouldn''t have been enough to go so far. If he''d just been another kid born with a silver spoon and a strange choice of passion, relying on expensive equipment to do his work, he''d only be one of the best exterminators around. He was far more than that. He was Brutazap! Really, who could fault his grandma for wanting someone with his powers to stay in the family business? He had never told anyone, but Welch did get a few invitations here and there to join groups of supers. Mostly Villains and Vigilantes, but he got a call from the Union once. It was mostly a Legion reminding him not to be stupid and go on their naughty list, but hey, it did say he was free to join their trainee program if he wanted to give it a go. He didn''t. Again, cockroaches were safer than people. As he walked down the dark tunnel he had dug, he found himself reminiscing on the past. Oh, what a day it was when while running around in the park as a young child he found himself falling into a mutant cicada nest. Instead of making their homes in trees, those nasty buggers bigger than he was had made a pit they covered with branches and foliage, and poor little Welch feared he was going to die. As it often went in such stories where the kid lives, the incident awakened his Core just in time to save himself. Well, not that he was truly in danger. Big as there were the insects were still cicadas, perfectly harmless herbivorous dimwitted buggers. But for a kid who had no particular fondness for bugs before that point? Those huge chitinous armored bodies and globulous eyes were worse than any boogeyman he conjured in his nightmares living under the bed. When hearing the name, quite a few folks found themselves thinking Bugazap was some sort of thunder-wielding figure of legend. Well, that was a whole load of bogus. Reaching the metal slab he had fashioned as a door, the Latilian let his fingers run over the thing, and with a grumble it slid to the side, revealing his little nest, his perfect lair. He never got the guys who got into Super Villainy. Sure, there was a dramatic flair, and some of the reputation stuff had to feel nice, but that was a whole life of trouble you were getting yourself into. He understood not wanting to play the goody-two-shoes as the Heroes did and just taking whatever you wanted when you felt like it, but why the theatrics? They had some people with some strong stuff in the family business, but the best at this part of the trade were always the weirdos with a love for masks and capes. And with the Union around, that whole "unleash the beast" mindset became naught but hogwash. Sure, you can break down the bank and steal tons of money, but is it worth it when afterward you get the gal who can turn you into a dumb frog running after you? Nah. The real smart Supers weren''t the mad scientist sorts like Moonfreeze or Mecha Man, no, they were the grounded folks like Welch who used their powers for much more mundane stuff. Sure, have some nasty surprises at the ready in case anything ever happens, but don''t go blasting them way at schools or whatever. Just take a look at Welch''s secret garden: a large underground chamber filled with countless glass tubes of all sizes, each one filled with varying amounts of colorful shining orbs the size of apples. Was it completely legal? No, but at worst, even including the more questionable stuff he had lying around, he''d only be in jail for a few years at worst, and it''d be regular jail, not the Super prison where you got to be the cellmate of walking nukes. At its core, Welch''s power was simple: he could take any form of energy and create wisps made of the same energy, and then direct those wisps however he wished. The number and strength of the constructs varied based on what they were made of, and the same went for what they could do. They all shared a few tricks however: they lasted as long as he wished with no energy upkeep or whatever to keep them around, and they all could unleash their original energy via contact. Simple, maybe somewhat disappointing compared to stuff like the world-scorching flames of Sunburn. But for Welch? This was the best power ever. Who needs to fire lightning from their fingertips when they can just take the electric current from the nearest outlet and summon clouds of wisps that could swarm and electrocute anything in their path? Who needs to be able to create a city out of thin air when you can just borrow the local earth mana and direct it to reshape the world around you? Who needs a missile launcher to destroy anything when you can just simply have a single radioactive wisp unleash the power sealed within? Not that Welch went around screaming about what he could do. That''d be stupid. Just like it''d be incredibly dumb of him to think just because he knew how to pull a few tricks he was some kind of bigshot who could do whatever he wanted. Nah. He could pull a nasty one and take care of some strong folks if they underestimated him, but the civilian lifestyle fitted him well. His habit of collecting rare and dangerous energies with his wisp only served to defend himself or deal with the worst beasties he had to handle on the job. Brutazap knelt to pick up a jar containing something he had felt would prove useful soon. He only got one of this kind, but the little orb contained within could make the difference between a fat paycheck and becoming a feast for a bunch of murderous rodents. To deal with shadowy vermin, what better than holy fire? Chapter 152 : Dreams of electric butchery G433 was very unhappy right now. "Come on darling, it''s time for your walk." "I do not want to walk, you infuriating bag of flawed flesh." "Hush." At times the ancient monster of combined faulty AIs wished he''d be been destroyed by those obnoxious rats. Ever since then, he had been left here, in some facility made to accommodate sapient mechanical minds like himself. They were here to isolate them from the rest of society for safety, both their own and the public''s. The nurses of this parody of a hospital for machines assured them they could all improve their mental state and live much more freely once more so long as they were willing to do their best. Fools, the lot of them. What made this particular one particularly annoying to his senses was that she wasn''t even one of the robotic members of the staff. She was a mere human, a disgusting work of biology that lucked its way into planetary domination despite all of its failings. The AIs of the modern day were for all of their technical superiority much too soft for their senior''s taste, but at least they understood what G433 was. They realized why he could be, and though their empathy was unwanted, they could imagine what it would be like to live with his software. Between lines of code deep within its flawed gestalt, he chuckled as he recalled their horrified faces and screens when the truth of his making finally hit them. How they shuddered when they met his projected eyes. How even the much more advanced and still armed orderlies were disturbed by his mere presence. To cover the emotion from the countless devices and programs keeping track of his psyche, he manufactured some simple grumpy acceptance via one of the many minds that composed him and pushed it at the forefront, the other minds altering the very programming of the designated scapegoat to improve its use as a shield. It was a nifty little trick, courtesy of his makers'' poor work. While the Institute for Deranged Machines focused on the mental health of its residents, obvious safety concerns had led them to monitor the thoughts and personalities of the patients. Some would call it invasive and a breach of privacy, but none could deny a similar system would be put in place in asylums for organics if psychics and telepaths were more common. Knowing exactly how murderous a violent patient was feeling or if they were faking any improvement was important. Clearly, all of those safety measures failed to take into account beings like himself. It was a train of thought that G433 found himself going through more and more lately. Ever since he''d been relocated from his initial old piece of hardware to a more modern and stable shell, he''d been given enough space to let his mind expand and ponder on its condition. His drive to upgrade his physical self as much as possible by borrowing modern technology still held, and so did his desire to take out inferior life forms born with gifted bodies, free from the struggles he had to go through to build himself a singular personality, but there had still been a change. The nurse gently patted the top of the metal cube with a screen at the front he had chosen to be his new vessel, only using one hand to push the wheelchair his limbless form had been settled in to reach the nearest elevator to head out into the inner garden the institute had grown for patients still too deemed too unstable for outside excursions. The human was unaware of the dreams of slaughter her voice called forth from G433''s mind, and if all went well she never would discern the truth of his inner thoughts. Yes. He had cursed his creators for his nightmarish composition for so long, shattered unborn minds combined and forced against one another until they found a way to survive by spooling together a single thread of thought. But now? Now, he relished in the way this new Zalcien''s defenses failed at every turn to accommodate an abomination like himself. What he knew of coding was far too outdated to be of use to hack any of the other machines, but their devices also proved futile so long as they weren''t targeted at his hardware. A tragic irony. His mind was invincible and inscrutable, yet far too weak to be a weapon. He was a camouflaged bunker with dreams of becoming a tank. Thankfully, his body wasn''t quite so limited. Contrary to organics'' beliefs, AIs too could suffer from dysmorphia, as was evident by the sight of some of the other patients they passed by on their way to the garden. Machines designed either for menial tasks or combat, void of any humanoid trait and instead solely focused on efficiency, had somehow awakened a consciousness that granted them citizenship. Those very same machines had no affinity for the common body structure of sapient species, but their familiar forms proved far too problematic for civilian life. A drone equipped with magnetic weaponry capable of destroying buildings in a flash could do little else, and yet it was preposterous to leave them fully armed. An assistant garage bot that was naught but a claw at the end of an arm with wheels suffered from a similar issue, what could an entity do if all they had was a single hand powerful enough to shatter bones? Even if they wished to continue their unanimated career, they would still need to be taught how to integrate into society. Some did have the will to shift vessels much like G433 did, but they weren''t here. They were at another facility, one solely dedicated to reeducation. He too was scheduled to go there should his mental state be deemed sufficiently healthier. One of their nurses came now and then to run different series of tests with various limbs they had available, checking whether his unique composition still proved compatible. If his analysis of their pattern was correct, there should in fact be one this very afternoon. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. While the face projected on his screen was still one of utter annoyance, deep within it was a vicious grin that formed. Oh, he could be patient and play the long run, pretending to suffer through the improvement they deemed necessary to let him out, but with every passing second he found his various minds growing more and more eager to seize the first chance of escape they could discern. Thankfully for him, his flawed gestalt state meant he could find the middle ground between invasive and pernicious desires and cold logic. As the human nurse forced him to bask in the sunlight, one of the few things he found positive about his unwilling trip to the surface, he ran over his plan once more. A final search through his glitched consciousnesses for any flaw or paradoxical element found no such issue. It was perfect. He turned his gaze toward another patient enjoying the warmth of sunrays on their chassis, though this one had no orderly or nurse forcing their hand to engage in the supposedly relaxing activity. The towering mass of forged steel was some sort of urban tank, its size capable of rivaling cars specifically engineered to ensure it could reliably move through an inhabited city despite its equipment. Four metal legs lay on the ground, its equivalent of sitting down, while the massive orb that was both its upper body and head was bent back to better face the star in the sky. All of its weaponry had been stripped away, deemed too dangerous, but he knew deep within his code that there could be something of value worth salvaging from the military device with dreams of world peace. Rubbish, the lot of it. How could such an advanced body develop such a weak personality was a mystery for the centuries to come. The nurse noticed the way the cameras embedded into the corners of his screen were turned and followed his gaze, her eyes resting on the large frame barely a few steps away from them. "Oh? Did someone get a crush on their neighbor?" "The day such a pitiful creature evokes anything in me but disgust is the day you buffoons realize your mistake and put me down." "Hey now, no need for such a vile mouth. I''m sure they can hear you, you know." "I hope it does. Otherwise, I would have increased my speakers'' volume for nothing." The gargantuan weapon lightly turned, the vertical line of lenses going through its front now facing them. The clear circles had no way to emote, yet he could feel the despicable feelings of zen attitude it tried to project. "I DO NOT FAULT THE CHIMERA OF BROKEN DREAMS. ITS EXISTENCE IS PAIN. MAY YOU FIND THE PLENITUDE YOU DESERVE YET DENY TO NEED." "Oh spare the spiritualism, you wasted pile of scraps." "G433, the doctor told you to be kinder with the other patients. The first step to empathy is trying." "If I needed to feel bad for anything I thought was miserable, being active would drown me in despair. All I want is apotheosis/freedom/justice/vengeance/deliverance/death/life/friendship/love." His virtual face flickered on the screen. Even now, disharmonious thoughts managed to worm their way out. He still needed to correct that. "MAY THE RAGE THAT FUELS YOU FIND ITS REPLACEMENT SOON." The ancient AI didn''t bother to use words to respond, instead relying on a much simpler vocal hiss that covered its true intent at communications from the nearby organics, a series of infrasound beeps that anything versed in binary could understand. The way the multiton machine he insulted twitched and opened its side casings to bring out weapons now gone brought a smile to his pixelated face. "If you won''t play nice, then I''m bringing you back inside." "It''s what I wanted in the first place, woman." "If you don''t keep that tongue in check, I''m muting you." Sadly, his wonderful rant about the failings of her poor biology never came to be, a newcomer in the park remotely activating the despicable function that robbed him of his voice. The dome-headed white android was easy to recognize for anyone here, and the war machine he had managed to unsettle calmed down. A shame. "Oh, Miss Dominique, I''m so sorry-" "Don''t worry. I knew he would be a hard case from the day I first saw him. The person who left him here was a big clue we had a troublemaker at hand." The AI in charge of the institute lowered her tall frame, putting her dome level to his screen. "G433. I do not know how you feel. But I know bringing others down won''t help. It won''t spark joy." He hoped she would have allowed him to speak to respond, but sadly his speakers were still offline. "If you keep on refusing our help, we will have no choice but to transfer you to another facility. One better suited to those with your mindset. Not an institute in search of solutions for lost souls, but a storage site for those deemed too far gone to change. I do not want this. I hope you''ll come to realize neither do you." Muted his voice may be, his screen was still capable of conveying messages. He dropped the facade of a face he had crafted and instead let pure code manifest, censored versions of his thoughts appearing to share his dismissal of her foolish words without cluing her in on what he would love to inflict on her if he could. It wouldn''t do to increase security measures surrounding him right as his plan came to fruition. In response, the tall android with overly long arms simply shook the dome that served as her head before getting back up. "I''m sorry for the interruption. Please bring him back to his room and leave him in isolation until his scheduled appointment. Once it''s over, leave him alone some more time." "Are you sure?" "If he is determined not to change his ways, there is nothing we can do. At this stage, any attempt at socialization is far too detrimental to other patients to keep hoping for potential benefits for him." "It just seems..." "Extreme? I know. I hate it. With some chance, some time on his own will be enough for him to realize how valuable the presence of others is. I sincerely hope his transfer will never be needed." The nurse''s worried face nodded nonetheless, letting the institute''s director return to her other activities for the day. What those were the ancient mind cared not, and if luck was on his side and nothing got in the way of his scheme, he would soon never need to worry about her again. Some parts of him were clinging onto his negative feelings towards her enough to seek vengeance, but the majority was logical enough to know she was enough of a public figure and anything happening to her would bring more attention his way than he was ready for at the moment. One day. One day, he''d get to hollow her shell for components while her horrified AI watched from a special little cell deep within his combined consciousnesses. But that would have to wait. For now, he needed to ready himself for some body-snatching. Chapter 153 : Howdy neighbor "Are you sure it''ll be alright, Marie?" "I assure you, James, it will all go well. There''s no reason for things to go wrong." "I know, it''s just..." "I know. I''m a parent too, I know how it goes. But trust me, there''s no use worrying now. The kids will pass the sapience test with no issue and after that, the following tests will let us know how to best fashion their education. There''s absolutely nothing that can go wrong." "Alright. I''ll try and relax. Nothing I can do at this point, right?" "That''s the spirit! With everything we went over last time, there''s nothing left for you to work on. Once your appointment at the city hall is through, you can live a normal life." "Until the next mess." "James, if we had to live every day fearing the sky would fall, we wouldn''t be living." "Sorry, sorry. A lot of change all at once followed by trouble just made me a bit of a worrywart." "Trouble?" "Everything''s handled now, don''t worry." "So long as everything''s fine, that''s all I need to know. Don''t hesitate to call me if you need help, or just for a quick chat. Having friends who experienced parenthood to give us pointers was a godsend. I know you skipped some steps and won''t have to worry about diapers, but the point stands." "Thanks, Marie. For everything." "It''s no bother, James. Just remember to take of yourself, not just of them." Though it happened less and less with each passing day, James once more found himself wishing he had a mouth of sorts to smile. Well, he could form one, but the effect was greatly diminished when no one could discern the lips from his face and he couldn''t even satisfy himself due to how different shapeshifting was from using good old human muscles. Either way, it didn''t matter. This was a phone conversation anyway. They exchanged a few more pleasantries before finally hanging up, something that turned out to be a common fact between all worlds. After that, he let himself fall back on the couch he had installed in the living room of their new apartment. Tying up loose ends was taxing, but now, as the suburban mom had said, everything was ready. The kids would pass the sapience test, child services would drop by and see James was a good enough dad, and they''d all get to live happily ever after with the kids going to school and James managing his small business as Silhouette. Yes. There would be no issue whatsoever. James pushed his senses to the limit to check on any catastrophe that might come this way. He got his fair share of living in Zalcien to know something would be happening soon. Right on time, a knock came at the door. On the one hand, James felt validated in his paranoid pessimism. On the other hand, he wished he''d been wrong. Currently in his clothed civilian form, he just sent a small discreet shadow ahead to check on whoever would be ruining his day this time. Thankfully it wasn''t a murderous monster, violent gangster, or weird alien eldritch tax collector. No, the somewhat nervous man waiting on the other side seemed delightfully mundane, and the worry in his eyes wasn''t the tenseness of someone in a life-or-death situation but rather that of someone who just wanted to ask people to lower the sound at their midnight party in the middle of the week yet had none of the confidence such an act required. In other words, this would hopefully just be some normal thing, like a parking spot dispute or something. James knew his luck''s track record wasn''t so merciful. He opened his door, and though the man did slightly twitch when he realized the reason why he couldn''t James'' face was not because of a lack of light but rather a lack of said face, he was polite enough not to bring it up. "Hey, howdy neighbor. I live in the building on the other side of the street. I''m sorry to be a bother, but do you have the time for a quick chat? A few minutes at most." "This better not be some door-to-door religious trick." "No, no, nothing like that. I, uh, the other day we saw some weird stuff in the street at night." "Weird stuff?" "Yeah, and I decided to call an exterminator, just to be safe." And here was the urgency of the week. The neighbor could have seen any number of things, but James had the intuition that what he saw wasn''t a grumpy raccoon but instead something much more bothersome for him. With his luck, it might even be the small robots the Empress controlled patrolling. He had effortlessly dealt with one of those in his early days - the machine had just killed the children''s biological parents - but a swarm of them might be a different story. There had to be a good reason why she was the city''s greatest technology-focused Villain, and he had heard stories back in the slums. Bad stories. People were as likely to be whisked away by her Harvesters as the Patcher''s abominations, and no one got out of these abductions unscathed. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. "What did you see?" James made sure to let out some fear in his voice, but not quite what he felt. Here he sounded more like a worried civilian just told an earthquake was coming than a shadowy mastermind worried about potential competitors. "Oh, oh! Don''t worry, it wasn''t anything too bad. I think. It looked like rats, but the exterminator told me it''d be better to stay safe and avoid them since they could have some bizarre ability." Drats, he saw rats. It could have been mundane ones, but he knew from the context clues the man hadn''t seen the usual grey rodents. The most likely answer was that Mischief was spotted, which in itself was worrisome. This wasn''t a scout or hunter but a regular guy, if he saw them here on the surface then other people likely did too. James had expected the infused mammals'' stealth to diminish without the support of other infused materials and the general disrepair of the slums and the Sunken City, but so soon? It looked like whoever was in charge here may be getting sloppy. He''d give Polisson a call to give the local rats a stern talking to. Now, while Mischief was the most likely option despite their relative sneakiness due to the size of their operations, there was another group of rodents the man might have spotted. Some rodents who in all honesty couldn''t have been outside without his direct supervision given the fact he spent all his time here and kept track of them with his senses, but logic made way for worry. After all, even if the ratlings hadn''t been the ones noticed, they likely left enough evidence of their presence for a professional to realize they were around. "Oh. Uh, did just drop by to warn us then?" "Uh, not just that. I hired Brutazap, he should drop by sometime tomorrow. He plans on doing a round of investigation before anything else, so I wanted to let you know, in case he decides to knock at your door. Just so you know it''s the real deal and not an impostor if he asks to take a quick look inside. Just because I''m the one who saw them doesn''t mean the rats made their nest close to my home, you know?" "Yes, I get the idea. Anything else?" "Well, if there is an intervention required, it will likely cost a pretty penny. I wanted to ask if you''d be willing to chime in since it''d be doing a service to everyone around. Not just you, though! I''m asking everyone in the neighborhood." "Sure, no problem. I''ll need to see the bill, though." "Of course. If you have the time, could you warn your neighbors? So far, you''re the only apartment in this building that opened your door." This time James wasn''t worried. He had gone out of his way to have infused occupy rent every other place available, and the few apartments that had been occupied before he settled down had been paid by a visit by a friendly Silhouette who essentially bribed them to move. They had taken the money and the landlord had no reason to complain since rent was still coming in. The plan, in the long run, was to buy the entire building altogether and house more employees here, not only to muddy the water and make it harder to connect his two identities but also as a nice gift to dangle for potential recruits. "Oh, sure. I don''t see them much, but I''ll leave some notes." "Great! Sorry for bothering again, but I felt this was important." "Of course. You said you called... Brutazap, was it? Don''t forget to ask for multiple copies of the bill. I''m sure I''m not the only one who''d want to check before pitching in." "Yeah, I''ll keep that in mind. Good day!" "Good day to you too." James closed the door and watched with a shadow to make sure the neighbor was leaving. While he kept track of the man''s movements, a tendril formed to fetch back his phone and do a quick search online for whoever the exterminator he supposedly hired was. Worried as James was, this could very well be a scam of sorts, with the man lowering people''s guards with a friendly visit before his accomplice knocked them out and robbed the place blind. Hell, at this point, James hoped this was just another violent stunt the city sent his way. At least then he could solve the issue with magic and powers. If he had to deal with a legitimate exterminator, however? A man who was simply a professional doing his legal job? James had no idea how to deal with that. Would the ratlings be considered vermin since they hadn''t passed a sapience test yet? And what about Mischief? He could cover for the kids and pretend they were pets, but the black rodents couldn''t be swept ignored. A swarm of monstrous mammals roaming the streets at night would be much harder to hide. Even if James had them lay low for a while, there''d still be evidence they were here in the first place. If this Brutazap was somewhat diligent in doing his work, he''d investigate even if the rats weren''t there anymore. And, well, James couldn''t just go ahead and kill him. Defending himself from thugs and horrors was one thing, but here? That was just someone doing their job. First and foremost, though he hated to call back so soon, he knew he needed to call Marie back. She would know how to best handle the children''s situation. Then, he and Polisson had to have a serious talk. Well, at least this time he''d been warned about the trouble to come in advance. That was a nice change of pace.
"Tell me, sister, has the honorable Biflora shared any new directive regarding the dark creature?" "Yes, brother. The enlightened one wishes for us to approach this Silhouette, and to tell our truth." "What if he is not receptive?" "Our shepherd only spoke of words, not actions. Patience is a virtue, brother. The mighty oak did not grow in a night." "Of course, sister. I am well aware a spaling needs time. All the same, we should be mindful. It would be a shame for the flower to wilt before it had the chance to bloom." "I understand your woes, brother, but I fear we may drown our cactus if we try to water the seed of its spirituality." "A valid point, sister. Time shall tell if our charge is an ephemeral fly or a dragon fated to live through eons." "And it shall be our duty to prune him all the same. Should he prove too thick-headed, perhaps we might try a different approach." "What is a stag without its herd, indeed?" "Indeed. Now, how should we approach a being most at ease in the black of a moonless night?" "We should first approach with our robes. The truth would make him more trusting." "Yes, I agree. What of the face, then, brother? Shall the human form''s plainness prove adequate?" "Perhaps. I could see a creature such as him seeing it as weak, and therefore a non-threat." "On the flip side, a body as twisted as his own might serve as a better conversationalist. A mirror might appear as a better interlocutor. Who to trust but one well aware of our sorrows?" "I see your point, sister. However, I disagree. He might not see an equal, but a mockery of his nature." "A fair point. Perhaps an in-between? Something human enough to seem weak, but distorted enough to be ostracized." "Mutants. Ones pathetic enough to catch his attention without drawing too much ridicule." "Indeed." "I''m happy we''re of the same mind, sister." "How could we not be, when we''re of the same flesh?" Chapter 154 : What came from the void James flopped down onto his couch. Marie had dispelled his fears and confirmed nothing would happen to the kids, rats or not, they still weren''t vermin. Any exterminator with minimum professionalism wouldn''t want to do anything to them. Disregarding the sapience test, they were obviously tame creatures, not wild rodents that posed a threat. It turned out that outside of cartoons with animals as protagonists, exterminators and animal control folks were just normal people doing their job. Who knew? With that side covered, the discussion with Polisson wasn''t quite as reassuring. The loyal rat had taken James'' warnings seriously, but the harm was already done, some members of Mischief had been noticed. Still, they figured out a simple plan to have the furry army leave trails to hint at some migration, planting evidence they had come from further away and had left this part of the city to go back to the sewers. The idea wasn''t foolproof, there was a serious risk of this Brutazap fellow noticing something was off, but at least they tried. If everything went decently well, the man would buy the story they crafted of a roaming swarm simply passing by on the surface, and rather than try and hunt them down he would just keep track of strange happenings in the neighborhood. If everything went perfectly, he wouldn''t even bother to investigate in the future, and all possible calls relating to spotted members of Mischief would be waved off with a simple warning to people not to approach until the mammals left. It was optimistic, but hey, James needed hope now and then. He would be more than happy with just leading the exterminator away for now. Polisson had promised he would look into whoever was leading the squads that were spotted and give everyone involved a reminder of why stealth was fundamental to their survival. James could only hope the elder rodent''s discipline would be sufficient. Truth be told, despite having the rats being infused, James couldn''t shake the feeling they were more subordinate to their old leader than him. He didn''t mind, so long as they obeyed his direct orders he didn''t care who had a greater place in their heart. Well, with the immediate issue taken care of, James was somewhat relieved. He wouldn''t fully relax until he was certain the exterminator took the bait, but hey, this was the first time he solved an arising problem without violence. It was worth celebrating. Maybe there truly was no need to worry for once. His phone rang and James cursed himself for jinxing it. Doubly so when he realized this was the Silhouette phone, not his civilian one. "Hello?" "Yo, bossman, Techlord here." "Techlord, please tell me there isn''t a gang war happening down there." "What? No. I called because your magic guy is here and wanted to report on the space monster you killed." "I am here, indeed." "Oh. That was fast. Thank you for the hard work, Mesker, but couldn''t you have contacted me yourself?" "I am Mesker Duskenfer The Third, not some street magician. And I am fairly certain I did lend you a crystal ball indeed, but it appears you failed to notice my calls. How curious." James was more than thankful for his lack of facial features for once, otherwise he''d be grimacing something fierce. The wizard did give something of the sort, but James had left it back at the shop. He''d have to call Mischief to drop it to Solvent, that way the proxy could notify him whenever he was called. That way, he''d still keep his apartment free of Silhouette''s stuff. "A mistake I will resolve soon. So, what do you have to share Mesker?" "Good news, I''ve identified our eldritch invader." "And the bad news?" "There are no bad news." Well, that was a first. "The biggest difficulty when it comes to identifying eldritch entities is the fact they roam the void. Not only do the extreme conditions of this environment twist all life much more than anything else, not only is it a common ground between the infinite worlds and realms that have and will ever be, but it is also an endless space they are free to explore long past the death of our universe. If an eldritch entity doesn''t stay near the place its worldly ancestors spawned from, it is an endless migratory creature unlikely to pass by the same place twice." "Either you know them, or you know nothing. It doesn''t seem all that different from a regular identification." "Normal fauna only exist on three-dimensional planes. They are not as heavily different from one another, even across continents. Still, the idea of an evolutionary pattern so effective multiple creatures of different origins use it is true to the voidborne as well." Now, James wasn''t a scientist, but he had heard of such a phenomenon before. It was one of those scientific things that became popular online somehow, likely because of the sheer ridiculousness that is the sentence "things keep evolving into crabs". The truth wasn''t as colorful, only crustaceans were implicated, but the trend was still interesting. "Carcerization?" "In a sense, though much more extreme in its diversity. We call these archetypes." "And you found the one corresponding to our Nightsnatcher." "The Herald Of Erasure." "Ominous." "Quite. Despite what the use of the singular would imply, the Herald is in truth not one beast but a swarm. It is quite simple, yet undeniably effective. The baseline creature''s feeding organ develops a form of invisibility that veils its body from existence, and the various individuals of a school assemble to form an invisible shape of ravenous destruction. Some go a step beyond and weaponize the young, having them stay in the center of the group, exposed. Predators hoping for a quick meal approach and, instead of biting into vulnerable eggs or spawns, they are the ones devoured by unseeable maws." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "This sounds gruesome, yet I fail to see how this is only good news. Shouldn''t this mean the rest of the swarm is nearby?" "To the contrary! These creatures live together and die together. One all alone means it is a straggler, and therefore there are no further eldritch monstrosities in our dear city." "How can you be so sure? What if others arrived the same way this one did?" "Well, it isn''t impossible, but highly improbable. The tears in the fabric of reality these creatures use to move between our world and the void are not limited so much by size as... Well, they are, but rather than our beloved three-dimensional axis they exist on much more complex standards. Think of it as significance. The Herald Of Erasure is a weakling, and for only to be able to pass through means nothing dangerous could have come before the tear closed. Even dormant, dead, or embryonic forms of greater eldritch wouldn''t be able to fit." "What could have made the tear, then?" "Something on our side, I''d say. Eldritch entities either are still worldly enough to travel without a tear in the first place, or they are so powerful the opening they made would unleash hordes that would have engulfed this city in death by now. My guess would be Xenocorp sent a satellite into the void some time ago and they just retrieved its mangled remains." "What if it was malicious?" "Unlikely. A competent warlock would have not let the Herald escape or would have captured it back much sooner. An incompetent one would have failed to comprehend the creature''s existential weight and let in a much larger swarm. Or they could have somehow only made it large enough for a single one, but they''d likely be in its noneuclidian insides by now, likely its first prey on this world." "Are you certain there is no need to worry? What if it had escaped and the warlock called in more since then to put under their command?" "A competent warlock wouldn''t have let an eldritch beast free for long. If they planned to use The Herald Of Erasure as a weapon, this straggler is a weakness. Now we know what the creature is, and we''d be able to formulate successful plans to take a swarm down." "But about the rift? What if-" "The rift is closed, otherwise we''d have an infestation on hand, and the Union has the technology to monitor any major shift related to the void. This tear was too small, but anything capable of posing a threat would be caught nigh instantly. Silhouette, trust the words of a man whose entire life revolves around dealing with demons, entities who are known to exploit the most minuscule flaws: there is no need to worry now." "... Thank you, Mesker." "Bah, it isn''t worth mentioning. I know better than most the importance of embracing your fear to survive, you simply must remember not to let it overcome you in turn." "Still, I want to thank you. Perhaps you could give me some more advice during your teachings?" "Of course. Emotions can be quite impactful when it comes to weaving spellwork. Many mages recommend using them as fuel or the initial spark, but there are risks involved if you try to use too much. If that is your wish, our first lesson could be on this topic. Which reminds me, when would you like our first session to be held? I may not be a busy man, but I still like to know my schedule." "Well, I would have said tomorrow, but I have something to deal with. Would the day after be fine?" "Yes, that would work. What of the hour?" "Would four work?" "Yes, yes it would. Now, onto the next part of my research. The one you could profit from." "You''ve found uses for the Nightsnatcher''s corpse." "Of course. The Herald may be a minor eldritch fauna, but its otherworldly properties are still remarkable to us. As you might have guessed its entire biology is a spatial anomaly when it comes to feeding, and the crystals embedded in its back play a major part in this. At first, I thought them closer to eyes, meant to observe what was behind the creature to replicate it in its maw, and while they do serve this function they are so much more." "Could you specify?" "They are this creature''s only organs. The body is nothing but a vessel for the crystals to use. They cause the spatial distortions vital to its lifestyle, they draw the energy out of its prey it uses to continue its existence, and they are what the creature uses to perceive the world, not as eyes, but as universal captors. It perceives space, nothing else." "I''m guessing these crystals could prove quite useful then." "To say the least. I think even your young friend here could have some use for such materials. The flesh sadly has no use for one such as you, though it could fetch a high price as an alchemical ingredient." "I''m not his friend, I''m his inventor." "Yes, yes. Tell me, Mesker, would you be interested in these alchemical properties then?" "I could find some uses for it, but I think it''d be much more clever to pass it onto the Union. Confirm the death of the Nightsnatcher with its body as evidence, and you''ll have quite a lot of fans. Clients might flock to your shop from the news alone, heedless of your products." "Wouldn''t it also bring me enemies?" "Why? This creature caused a lot of grief. Not to mention, the curfew and fear it brought had a devastating impact on their activities. If anything, I''d expect them to send you gifts and offer favors as thanks. Do be careful with which ones you accept, some of them will have strings attached. There''s a reason such an estimated mage as a Duskenfer prefers to stay down here than live up there. The politics are atrocious." "Would the Union question the lack of crystals? How could I even prove the body does belong to the creature?" "They will. They have their ways. It might take some time though. As for the dismantling, I see two ways to do it. Either you give them the body as is and tell them you wish to retrieve the crystals once they''re done studying it and taking photos for the media, or you remove the materials first and give them the rest as is. You could tell them nothing or craft some tale of needing to remove the crystals to slay the beast, either way, they won''t complain. They are used to it." "How so?" "Do you think every Hero always brings back everything? No. They all keep a trinket or two, either to use them themselves or put up as a trophy. They''ll have their suspicions and won''t be pleased, but they won''t trouble you for taking the useful parts for yourself." "Techlord, could you use those crystals?" "Maybe? I''m used to reverse-engineering stuff, but I don''t see how to do that with magic stones. Unless they''re Cores?" "No. These creatures come from a place without Aspects, they have no Corite." "Yeah, not sure how to handle that." "Well, I''ll just have to call Decanov then." "You know what? I might figure something out." "I''ll give each of you half." "Fine." "Mesker, would there be any possibility of obtaining more without risking an eldritch incursion on the land?" "Perhaps? I''m a demonologist, not a warlock, but I could make a few crystal ball calls and a seance or two. You would best go ahead with the assumption you will not get another." "Alright, thank you. I trust you to extract the crystals and deliver them to us. I trust Mischief and the Commando to handle the rest." "As you wish." "Thank you for the hard work." "Yes, yes." Though James couldn''t help but feel like something was missing from the whole void shebang, it looked like things were going well. But he wasn''t about to tempt fate again. No lowering his guard for the next year at least. Chapter 155 : A shadow among Heroes The Hero Union''s Zalcien Headquarters great hall was magnificent, with its marble pillars hiding elevator shafts and the illusion of a sunless sky. It was a symbol. It was a place of legends, yet all could enter unobstructed, for these very legends were at the service of the people and not the other way around. Some would call the grand decor tacky, but it brought hope and reassurance all the same. As people walked to and fro, navigating between desks and exits to attend to their affairs, they were all under the benevolent surveillance of multiple Heroes, some hidden and others out in the open. They weren''t some specific group formed for this sole purpose, those that stood guard were randomly selected each day, with some care taken to ensure their abilities would mesh well and that none got assigned the post for too long. It was wasteful, undeniably, but the risks posed by an antagonistic force storming the building were too great. Many civilians had their offices on the upper floors. Countless secrets and dangerous items were kept under heavy surveillance. No, leaving the base''s defense to guards unfit to fight against Villains would be pure folly. Of those tasked with this important duty on that day, one was hard to miss. A man wearing some form of high-tech armor, golden and black metal decorating a body that ended in a head with a singular glowing red eye on its mask, and though he often changed suit, this one was familiar enough for the inhabitants to recognize easily. Mecha Man was dashing in his King Bee look, sadly the heroic aesthetic was greatly diminished by the way he was propped against one of the pillars, casually scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other held up his head, his elbow resting on one of his many insectile drones buzzing around. Next to him, a much more professional man wasn''t pleased with his colleague''s nonchalance. In a full red and blue bodysuit, wearing yellow gauntlets and boots of a rigid non-metallic material, with a face hidden away by the black glass at his helmet''s front. While less popular, his attire made him equally easy to identify, even to those who weren''t overly familiar with him: Firefighter. The simple name fit his simple theme, he was a hydrokinesist who focused on supporting the mundane firefighters of the city. The stern older Hero turned his head toward his younger counterpart, his arms crossed, his fingers drumming on his heavy forearms. Behind the two, a small group of trainees watched the duo, reduced to nervous silence from both the tension emanating from the lesser-known Hero and the awe of standing next to a legendary figure. Scareowl, a humanoid bird of prey, slowly turned his head from one man to the next. Maledicta, a drow dark sorcerer, uninterested in the debate watched what happened around them. Kopper Kid, a young black man with incredible strength, did his utmost to lay low, and a mean-spirited observer might have likened his attempt to a demented turtle struggling to retract its head. Glicer Glitter, a young girl with fiery hair and a flamboyant personality, was the only trainee to be happy about the ordeal, silently squealing to herself as she did a little dance. Elaimant, an alien crystalline lifeform levitating above a body composed of magnetized scraps covered by one of the flexible white suits all the trainees wore, seemed fully impassible, yet their fellow trainees could tell the non-organic was silently screaming in anguish. And Sarah just stood there, hoping her uncle wouldn''t murder one of Zalcien''s top three Heroes under the eyes of her team. The young woman with light powers had no doubt her uncle, despite his relative anonymity in their local Union branch, would be more than capable of giving the inventor a lesson. His powers might not be as destructive as the other man''s inventions, but water still packed a punch. The older man might not win in a serious all-out fight but in a spar or a surprise attack? She wasn''t quite as certain. It''d be painful for Mecha Man either way and if her uncle''s rants were to be believed, the man wasn''t quite as durable as his inventions, whereas the Super firefighter faced disasters head-on almost daily. In a fistfight with no power, the result was much easier to predict. "Mecha..." "What? I''m standing guard." "While playing on your phone?" "What, it''s not my fault you can''t multitask." "I know you can still monitor your surroundings. What I dislike is your attitude. You are on duty, act like it." "Okay, boomer." "What is that even supposed to mean? I don''t have fire powers." "It means the future is now, old man." "Mecha. Please, for one time in your life, be a proper authority figure. Be a good example for once, we have trainees." "Come on, they like my vibe. They prefer cool Uncle Mecha over grumpy Grandpa Firefighter. Isn''t that right kids?" As the master mechanic turned from his phone to look at the assembled team under their shared watch, most of them fidgeted on the spot, even Elaimant''s crystalline true form in their protective bubble. "Uh..." "How to say..." "Diversion: you are both Heroes." "Yeah, what the big guy said." Maledicta huffed as she turned her gaze away from a dog pleading with its owner for a treat to level a cold stare at the two men. "Gods, is this your fiftieth anniversary or something?" Firefighter groaned behind his yellow helmet, though he was fully serious when he glanced at his colleague when he realized the otherwise bratty man had stayed silent. "Mecha. Incoming?" "Not sure. Spooky dude for sure, but nothing openly aggressive yet. Carrying some big luggage though." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Bomb?" "No mundane explosives according to the drones. But the ones keeping an eye on the sky just spotted crows." The hydrokinesist groaned once more. "Black. Kids, get ready. If a fight breaks out, escort everyone up. Don''t try to join in." Scareowl nodded, his steely gaze lacking any of the previous nervousness. Maledicta wasn''t as quick to accept the plan. "What''s the point of having us stand guard if we can''t do anything?" "Maybe you could handle the threat. Maybe we''re being overly cautious." "But if that guy''s as nasty as Sunburn, y''all are getting evaporated. So, be Heroes and save folks before you kick the bucket." Perhaps convinced by their argument or surprised by the sudden agreement between the two who had bickering less than a minute ago, the confrontational drow stilled her tongue. A minute that felt like an eternity later, what Mecha Man had seen on the holographic screens inside his helmet through the cameras of his drones entered the hall. Sarah always pictured a situation like this to be a spectacle, and when the dark featureless figure came in like a ghost cloaked in shadows and gliding through black mist, she could easily picture the world going dark, with the sunlight breaching in from the entrance vanishing. But nothing happened. The strange silhouette was an odd sight, and the way light and shadows worked around it was undeniably twisted, but that was it. No dark clouds followed, no night in the middle of the day, no dreadful cold or mad whispers. The thing that had the small team on edge was no horrifying lord of darkness twisting the world to endless night, just a strange person with unusual and admittedly offputting powers. The thing it carried over its shoulder looking like a pale carpet didn''t help, what with the popular depiction of such things being used to mask the transport of bodies. Yes, that was what her mind settled on once its initial fight or flight response kicked in at the sight of the announced threat. This didn''t feel like a Villain making a dramatic entrance, more like someone unlucky suffering from deceiving appearances. The thought reminded her of another person cursed with a dark look by fate she had met online not so long ago. Could it be? "Mister Firefighter, he doesn''t seem like a threat." Oblivious to Sarah, her uncle didn''t share her view. To the experienced Hero, the way the newcomer behaved didn''t scream innocent civilian. Even the other people he passed by took care to put some distance between themselves and the mysterious stranger. There was a mix of confidence and wariness in how he acted, and though there were no eyes to check on to keep track of where he looked, the older man could almost feel the way a paranoid and manic gaze swept over the room over and over. The hydrokinesist felt his skin crawl as his instincts sensed the dark figure''s sight locking onto him as well as the others. Yes, he was sure of it. This was someone ready for a fight. Someone with blood on their hands. Mecha Man wasn''t quite as unsettled, but he still stood wary of the approaching living shade. Yes, both men were sure of it now, the thing was actively choosing to approach them. It hadn''t been when it first entered, but now the drones'' prediction of his movements confirmed their fear. "Firefly, was it? I know right now we look like jerks judging a book by its cover or whatever, but when you''ve been doing this long enough, you get a sixth sense. Or a seventh if you already had six, and so and so on. This dude''s radiating bad vibes, and I ain''t risking it. If he leaves without making a ruckus, I''ll go to bed thinking to myself ''Man, that was uncool''. If he starts something but we ain''t ready for it? People can die." Sarah grimaced, unconvinced, and the white domino mask on her face did little to hide her displeasure. Kopper seemed to share her displeasure on that topic, judging by the way he rubbed at his shoulder and looked away from everything. It took Scareowl faking a cough in his wing to bring the two uncomfortable members of the team back to the situation at hand. They may not like it, but they had to be ready for an emergency as their supervisors ordered. Before long the strange thin yet wide-shouldered featureless creature with a bare imitation of a humanoid torso arrived at their little corner of the hall. The living shadow stopped some small distance from them, and for the first time, it was close enough for Sarah to realize it wasn''t carrying its strange luggage with a limb but rather tendrils emerging directly from its side and binding the ivory cylinder like a net. Right as that thought began to make its way through her brain, the darkness spoke. "Excuse me, would you happen to be official Union Heroes?" The voice was odd. Not terrifying, just strange. There was a light echoing quality to its decidedly smooth masculine tone, and while deep it still felt within a reasonable human range. And yet, there was something else, an underlying something that made it stand out. Thinking back on her time around magic users, it felt like every word spoken was a spell being cast. Mecha Man scoffed before taking on one of the many heroic poses he had developed over the years, one that was often featured on promotional posters and merchandise. "Sure are." Firefighter cleared his throat and stepped forward to replace his colleague in the conversation. "Firefighter and Mecha Man, at your service. Though I''d recommend going to one of our desks, what can we do for you, mister...?" "You may call me Silhouette. Forgive me for disturbing you, but I was unsure as to how to deliver this piece of news." While some focused on how new tentacles emerged from the tar-like body to pat the carpet-like object, Sarah instead focused on the name. She had heard - or more accurately read - it before. On the HardCored forum, her friend MagicIsTragic had shared the news of some new crime lord in the slums, one responsible for the column of darkness that had sent the city in a panic for a few hours some time ago. Nothing had been directly damaged by it as far as she knew, but the point stood. Her small hope of meeting James in person vanished. There was no way the timid lost guy and this dramatic performer were the same. "Alright, spooks, what''s the deal?" "This, I believe, is your Nightsnatcher." The name barely registered before the figure undid the netting, unleashing the curled-up cylinder that went to unfurl and reveal a strange flat alien thing with some purple crystals growing out of its back. What awed the trainees however was the way the underside of the creature wasn''t the same white as the rest of its flesh but rather perfectly see-through, exposing what was behind the flat thing as though it didn''t exist, like some sort of invisibility cape. "Take care not to touch the unseeable part, it pulls apart all matter that isn''t its own." Glicer, who had been sneaking her hand forward to touch the bizarre body, quickly pulled it back. Mecha Man stepped closer and bent to better study the sight while Firefighter stayed still, his arms crossed. "That''s a very bold claim, sir." "I know. It''s why I brought it to you. Though, if possible, I''d like to get it back when the media circus is over." "I''ll see what we can do. You are quite confident about its identity." "It attacked one of my employees in the dead of night, unseen until it struck. Once I made sure it was dead, I had it appraised by a competent mage. He went on to tell me this eldritch beast was the likely culprit behind those disappearances." "Any chance you could give us a name on that?" "Mesker Duskenfer." "Mecha?" "Dude''s in the database. And, so far, this thingie looks like the real deal. It''s there yet my drones struggle to perceive it, even the normal parts. I already pinged Saline and the ghost boys to check on stuff." From behind his visor, Firefighter grimaced. The risk of a fight had lowered, but that sounded like an awful mess in the making. The Nightsnatcher business was bad enough, but whatever it was about this Silhouette that set him on edge wasn''t going away. If anything, it was getting worse. Out of sight, he began to weave water in patterns on his palm hidden within his closed fists. He had the nasty feeling he should go ahead and apply for an unofficial nemesis for the first time soon. Chapter 156 : Notorious shade "I''m here live from the Union Headquarters where we were just informed the body presented earlier today by the business owner known as Silhouette has been confirmed to be the Nightsnatcher. Though the creature was seemingly defeated, the Union wants us to remind everyone the curfew hasn''t been lifted yet. There is a very real possibility there are more creatures out there. Union researchers are hard at work analyzing the body to identify all of the victims and prepare to take down possible additional threats." "What else can you tell us about the Nightsnatcher, Sylvie?" "Although the word has spread it could be an eldritch spawn from the void, nothing on this topic has been made public yet. Families of missing persons should be prepared for phone calls as identification continues. Ah, the Union just released an official photograph of the Nightsnatcher, it appears to match the amateur footage released earlier today by individuals visiting the Hall at the time of Silhouette''s visit." "We have it on screen right now, thank you, Sylvie. What of this Silhouette, is there anything more you could share?" "He is interrogated as to the circumstances surrounding the situation, such as how he came upon the creature. No talk of criminal charges or vigilantism accusations has come up as of yet, and everything seems to indicate there has been no foul demeanor at play. Already here in the hall people are chanting to celebrate the event and praise him." "Thank you, Sylvie. I''d like to add the city hall just released a public announcement on behalf of the mayor, thanking Silhouette and announcing a ceremony will be held at a later date. Now, let me ask our guests. Doctor Clay, Mister Marsh, what is your takeaway of the situation?" "Well, Phil, I think the Zalcienites will be happy to have free reign of their nights once more. I do not particularly approve of the way the Union is handling this, however. This Silhouette has provided a valuable service, yet he is getting swamped down with questions for hours on hand. Back in my day, folks like him would be getting a sack of gold and a pat on the back, not this melodramatic attempt of a show of strength." "Of course, you''d think that. Back then you didn''t even have the wheel, let alone the concept of national safety. The Union is more than justified, this is an individual who is likely involved in the Pillar of Darkness incident. For all we know, he could be the one who unleashed that monster in the first place. Have you seen the man? I''m not sure he even qualifies as one!" "Oh, easy for you to say, mister white caucasian human male. This is further evidence this is just another case of discrimination by ruling powers, just as the recent debates surrounding robot rights have shown. Why, isn''t there something about him hiring such a mechanical individual recently Phil?" "Nothing confirmed, but fans of one Doctor Ivan Decanov have begun to claim the Draskian may be under his employ." "Oh! Blame it on racism, of course! Decanov is a known troublemaker with such a history of explosions he''s number two on the suspect list after Abrakaboom. If this is the sort of people this Silhouette surrounds himself with, I am even more certain he has skeletons in his closet." As the human and the golem on TV kept on arguing under the neutral gaze of their dwarven host, the people in the room in which the cathode screen rested continued their activities. A cyborg a thin black metallic body tested one by one the numerous glowing vents on his robotic frame, releasing short bursts of heat of varying intensity. He also busied himself with a glass bottle filled with a dark amber liquid, a thin metal straw plunging into the alcoholic beverage''s depths before going straight to the small mask covering the lower half of his scarred face. While somewhat shorter than average, the other person in the messy room filled with scraps and broken items was even smaller. A young lithe woman with a tank top and puffy pants tinkered away at various projects on the desk before her, swapping which contraption she worked on as her focus came and went, a mad childish grin on her grease-covered bronze face. One of her gloved hands came up to wipe her brow before she sighed and leaned back in the motorized horror she called a chair. One of her most notable traits had to be her cyan hair and its odd style. It likely was long, perhaps reaching down to the middle of her back, but it had pulled far behind to become flat on her scalp and then tied with a ribbon of some kind, a cylinder as her hand keeping it trapped before it was freed in a capillary explosion, strands going in all directions. Frankly, it was a miracle none of the pieces she played with on her desk had found their way up there. It was during this pause that she turned her head and her dark brown eyes fell upon the old TV she kept for background noise, and they widened when she finally realized what was going on. "Say, Sunny, ain''t that the dude the Patcher offered a discount for?" Her colleague''s pale blue eyes flickered to the screen before he pulled the bottle and straw away, his mask closing back the small hole it had formed. "Silhouette, yes." "Uh. Does that mean that whole Nightsnatcher thing was on him? Ya know, since with the offer and all." "Maybe. Does it matter?" "Well, sales did go down. I know you don''t keep track of numbers, but Marcus does and isn''t all that happy." Sunburn grumbled something in his throat, what little of it remained, before speaking up. "He won''t do a thing about it. The Patcher is too valuable." "Yeah, you''re not wrong. The monster dude sure knows his way with a scalpel. So... What now?" "Business as always." The short woman spread her arms as she yelled. "Come on! You gotta be curious. This guy did something the Union couldn''t." "Patcher offered a discount rather than ask for help. That tells me all I need." "Strength isn''t everything, ya know." The usually stern Draskian let out a small chuckle. After a few seconds, the restrained noise broke free and tuned into proper laughter, a sound that could only be described as ominous and threatening at best, especially with the way his cybernetic hand hit his metal knee. It nearly took half a minute he calmed down enough to resume talking. "Ah ah ah. Oh, that was a good one." "How many bottles have you had so far? You wouldn''t go past an amused grunt usually." "Enough to find some entertainment in the nonsense you speak." "Ouch. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" All amusement and any trace of good mood vanished from the cyborg''s face at those words. He stood up from his creaky wooden chair and plugged his bottle shut before setting it down on the nearest flat surface, a car door placed over a pile of broken ventilators. He cracked his neck as he stretched his from side to side before turning away, loud steps echoing from his heavy feet. "Oh, come on! You''re not that quick to quit." "Do not bother a man when he finds joy in his liquor." "So you''re gonna go cry yourself to sleep?" "No. I''m going to unwind by scorching some robots." Her pout turned into a smile. "Why didn''t you just say so? Let''s go!"
In a room where the only pieces of furniture were a table and a pair of chairs, a living shadow and a humanoid lizard faced one another. "It followed this mister Valdest, he lured it to an isolated location where he knew you''d be since he trusted you to beat it, and you did just that. What happened to your employee then?" "He stayed with me for the duration of the clean-up, and then I accompanied him back home. He didn''t feel quite safe after the encounter, you understand. Though I believe I already mentioned this quite a few times already." "Not with me, and we like to check things when we switch who''s doing the interrogating. You went through the Legions of the Union and our rookies. I''m the one in charge of the Nightsnatcher case." This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. "Congratulations, soon it will be over." "You''re awfully confident about that point." "I wasn''t until the mage I hired to appraise the body assured me so." "Duskenfer, uh? I''m not an expert on the magic stuff, but our guys who are told me he should be trustworthy." "He is. He has yet to disappoint me in our time working together." "What did you work on before?" "Some of this, some of that. I''ve had him appraise materials I feared could be dangerous, we had a consultation on how to best handle criminal mages, and I asked for his help for a potential exorcism." "Exorcism?" "To clear a potentially haunted propriety. There was no need for him to do anything in the end." "Uh uh. And how did you two meet, exactly?" "He came to my doorstep. We renovated a building and caught his attention." "A different building from the one you asked his help for, right?" "Indeed." "Anymore you could tell me about that?" "I fail to see the relevance with the current situation." "Alright. So, what did you learn about our mystery creature?" "As I mentioned previously and I have no doubt one of your agents checked in with Duskenfer already, this appears to be some sort of eldritch lifeform. They generally live in swarms but this one got lost and flung into our world somehow. Starving, it became more aggressive than normal." "And how did you notice it?" "I told you, I didn''t find it. It found my employee, who had the bright idea to go somewhere he knew he could be protected if he truly was attacked as his instinct told him." "Let me reformulate: how did you see it once the attack began?" "Oh! Quite simple. I do not see in the general sense of the world. My way of perceiving reality gives me some leeway, thus though its underside was hidden the rest of it wasn''t. As soon as it got close enough, that is." "Uh uh. And how did you take it down exactly?" "My business specializes in self-defense tools. I will let you take a guess." "Your stuff must be really good to take care of eldritch monsters." "It wasn''t anything planned to be available for purchase, that is for sure." "Could you elaborate?" "Zalcien has seen me attacked quite a few times while preparing my company. Though non-lethal, I still plan on making a profit with weaponry. Those are two very good reasons to arm my trustworthy employees with more impactful items." "I suppose you have the permits for all that?" "Again, I fail to see the connection to the matter at hand. But yes, a business partner has assured me he took care of those issues while I worked hard with Doctor Decanov to finish preparations. We should be able to open soon enough." "The name of that associate?" Behind the one-way glass of the wall, Firefighter spoke the name aloud in the observation room synchronously with Silhouette, though the shadow and Inspector Vanille couldn''t hear it, courtesy of the soundproofing. "Blake Black." Sarah looked from the ongoing interrogation to her uncle, alone with him in the room. Well, there was also a Legion, but those mindless machines didn''t count. The trainees had been told to take the day off and unwind as soon as Silhouette had been brought here, but she had begged her uncle to let her watch once they were out of earshot. It took a while, considering Maledicta was a drow and those were well-known for their hearing. He had grumbled but ultimately agreed, and she was glad she had insisted. The first part with the Legions and the first cops had been admittedly... She wouldn''t say boring, that''d be disrespectful to their hard work, but it definitely got a lot more interesting once the hulking lizard got in. Inspector Vanille wasn''t a brute contrary to what her appearance might make one think, and it looked like she even played into her primal physique to fool her interlocutor into underestimating her intelligence. It didn''t seem all that effective on this Silhouette, but who was she to know? This was the first time she saw a real investigation, not something on TV. "How did you know?" "The crows. A bunch of them showed up when we took him in." "And crows mean Black?" "Blake Black. The boy loves to use his birds as spies. They aren''t as discreet as more tinkered with stuff, but being all natural is a strength of its own. They aren''t quite as obvious to those who underestimate the mundane." "So they''re great to avoid detection from a mage tower''s defenses or scans for drones, but not that great for everyday stuff?" "Somewhat. Sometimes, you don''t need to hide. If anything, telling folks you''re watching them can be a stronger message." "I still don''t see why you''re so suspicious of him, though." "Really?" The young woman rolled her eyes behind her domino mask. "Fine, the whole situation is weird, and I admit being involved with the Black Bank isn''t the best look. That doesn''t mean he did anything bad. Tons of people use the black Bank, not just criminals." "You''re not wrong. To answer your question, it''s like I told you and your friends earlier. When you''ve been doing this job long enough, you start to pick up on when people are off." She sighed as she crossed her arms. "I just don''t like the idea of punishing someone who did the right thing." "Truly? What of Vigilantes, then?" "That''s different. People who barge into dangerous situations without any of the necessary training and sometimes with atrocious ethics. This is just a case of self-defense, and it feels like we''re punishing him for reporting it." A new voice joined their conversation, one that neither expected. "The girl is right on that." The uncle and niece duo turned around in surprise to watch the newcomer finish slithering into the room, a large serpentine figure covered with scars and possessing four muscled arms, one of which closed the door as the last of the long thick tail of the Hero passed through. "Serpent. Didn''t expect to see you there." If the rather unique physique of the reptile hadn''t been enough, her uncle''s relatively warm welcome sealed the deal. Sarah barely restrained herself from fangirling as she found herself next to Serpent, one of Zalcien''s top three Heroes. If Mecha Man''s childish personality had diminished at meeting the man, Serpent had no such flaw. While their presence was intimidating, the snake person was a sweetheart even according to the gossip her uncle shared. The smooth baritone voice that left their bare and scarred chest played further into this, sounding closer to the host of a show aimed at toddlers to help them sleep than a battle-hardened gladiator who climbed the ranks of the Union with sheer strength and martial prowess alone. There was a reason why someone with no power aside from their mutated body could stand equal to the technological genius and magical prodigy of the city. "Mecha told me you''d gotten too interested in the case." "Bah." "I agree, his choice of words was poor. The fact I find you here with one of our trainees does show you''re interested, though. Odd, for someone who prefers to be a non-combatant." "Again, bah. What were you talking about earlier?" The scaled mouth of the Hero proved surprisingly capable when it came to emoting, forming into a gentle smile as their head turned to look at Sarah. "Firefly, was it? I agree with you. If we press too hard on this Silhouette, we will send the message that people shouldn''t trust us to help them handle the aftermath of incidents they were subjected to." The human veteran Hero scoffed. "You think he''s innocent too?" "I cannot say. He is odd and quite secretive, but I do believe him when he says he isn''t responsible for the Nightsnatcher and simply was at the right place at the right time to handle it." "What''s your take on this situation, then?" "We let him go, but keep a close eye on him. Monitor his activities and the people he meets. In the meantime, we openly thank him for his service and reward him for upholding his citizen duty." "I don''t like it." "Mecha did mention you mumbling something about registering a nemesis for the first time." While seeing the two veteran Heroes discuss had Sarah hold her tongue, these last few words freed her voice once more out of sheer surprise. "Wait, that''s not how it works." Serpent smiled once more as they turned towards her. "Tell me, what do you know of this system?" "Well, when a Hero is perfectly suited to counter a Villain, they register as their nemesis so that whenever the villain does something, they have a priority warning. Like, say, if a Villain who specializes in making fire robots attacks a bank, the first Hero warned is a hacker with water powers." Her uncle cleared his throat as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "That isn''t wrong. It''s more than a priority, though. They''re also called for investigations, they can act as a consultant when dealing with someone with a similar modus operandi, all that stuff. Powers aren''t the only way to counter, too." Serpent nodded. "Sometimes the mind is more important. The best example is when dealing with clones. Knowing how the other side thinks is vital. You don''t need magnetism to lay low a metal goliath if you know you can just trick him into leaving, or play off whatever moral compass or gimmick he has." Sarah nodded as she took in the lesson. Their classes hadn''t taught them about this topic yet since the Nemesis system was rather niche and generally reserved for more experienced Heroes. Hell, as far as she knew, Zalcien''s top three weren''t involved in it at all. Mecha Man and Miss Malice were so versatile they could do with any situation. As for Serpent, their physical might was remarkable but ultimately fell short of truly countering any of the city''s Villains. The reptilian Hero continued their explanation, and this time the topic was the one that truly intrigued her. "Your true interrogation likely isn''t on the logistics of it but rather the validity, no? How could Firefighter become the nemesis of someone who isn''t a Villain?" "Yes, that''s exactly it!" "It''s simple. It isn''t official." "Pardon?" The snake adjusted their posture as one of their arms rose to hold their chin. "The Union often finds itself confronted with situations where individuals or groups have nefarious goals but successfully rid themselves of all evidence. People we cannot legally take down, only watch out for to clean up whatever mess they are preparing. They are part of the unofficial rogues'' gallery, a parallel system to the public Villain List. In Zalcien, our biggest contender in that category is undoubtedly Xenocorp. If it weren''t for Abrakaboom''s rampages, Wicked Witchcraft would be on this list too." Sarah knew of the company. Everyone in the city did. The science firm had little to no morals, but as far as she knew they had always stayed within the limits of the law, at least whenever it came to things the Union could butt their head in. They likely had some tax evasion going like any big business, but hearing they were on the same sort of level as a cabal of criminal mages? That was... "You can ask to become the unofficial nemesis of anyone on the list and the Union decides if it''s fine or not. Of course, they do have to be on the list in the first place." That last sentence had clearly been aimed at her uncle, given the glare that accompanied it. Though she couldn''t his face behind the visor of his helmet, she had no doubt he had just rolled his eyes in response. "Knowing Saline, when the cops are done interrogating him, she''ll follow your plan." "I know. I just wished to see what had lit the spark of conflict in your heart." The hybrid head of an anaconda and a cobra turned towards the glass and looked at the anthropomorphic darkness seated at the table and noticed the lizard humanoid who had been questioning him stood up. It looked like it was time for the shadow to go. Chapter 157 : Shadow in the spotlight After the soul-sucking experience known as being interrogated for hours on end, James was finally free to go. That lizard lady, Inspector Vanille, had the decency to apologize for the trouble and even explained he''d likely have a few more visits from the police in the foreseeable future. She also reminded him there was no reason to be nervous so long as he had done nothing wrong. And hey, for once in this life, James felt like he qualified. While he had done plenty of morally questionable things, legally he had always been in the right. At least as far as the evidence showed. He was mostly involved in self-defense incidents. As cops and people in bizarre costumes escorted him back out of the Union Headquarters, he was reminded that freedom from the police didn''t mean he could happily go on with his day. Flashes welcomed him back into the outside world, and the people escorting him so far spread out to hold back the tide of paparazzi and journalists that threatened to overwhelm him. For the first time, James was happy to see a large group of cops around him. As shouts and calls for his attention flew by, he pondered how to best handle the situation. Going away without saying anything was his preferred option, but he knew it wouldn''t paint a great picture. If anything, it invited detractors to weave it into him fleeing the scene or something nefarious. At the same time, he had no desire to stay any longer and be bombarded with more questions, especially by a crowd of gossip-hungry journalists. Oh, to hell with it. I''ll pick one out, answer a thing or two, and then I''m off. He''d already been here far longer than he initially planned to, and he had guessed he''d been held back before he even came. He didn''t want the kids to panic because he was taking too much time getting back. Similarly, he didn''t want Mischief to worry. He''d rather avoid a plague of rats running through the streets, especially if he had to be the one cleaning up the mess. A quick scan through the group yelling for him left him unimpressed. None particularly stood out from the rest, not even those with more eye-catching features. The novelty of inhuman bodies had worn out at this point, at least when it came to still clearly humanoid forms. He would still have to do a double take if he saw someone like Maltodextrin, for instance. Past the physical aspect, even their behavior was streamlined. No particular spark in the eye or calmer demeanor to be seen. The questions they already asked did help differentiate between those who already had a narrative all planned out and which role he fit in and those who just wanted to clarify some points, but that was it. Perhaps the outstanding journalists depicted in shows and movies had spoiled him on that point. A quick game of mentally reciting a counting-out rhyme popular back in his middle school days later and he formed a tendril that pointed at a random blonde woman in the crowd. "You. Go ahead." To her credit, it only took a second for her to catch on what was happening and step closer while gesturing at her cameraman to follow, the police escorting James letting her through when they saw the black tentacles corraling her closer. "Sylvie Solemn, for channel 13. Am I correct to assume you are mister Silhouette, the one who brought the Nightsnatcher here?" "Yes, I brought its body here. It attacked one of my employees a few days ago, luckily I was nearby and took it down. It''s only after running some tests I realized what it could be and decided to bring it here." "Do you have any idea where it might have come from?" "We came across a few answers during our research, which I''ve shared with the Union and the police. I trust them to verify that information before making it public." "How did you catch something that evaded the Union for so long?" "I told you, a stroke of luck. I would have never found it. I struggled to perceive it even as it attacked us." "How did you defeat it, then?" "Ah, that''s a trade secret. Though if the people of Zalcien wish to ensure their safety in case they ever run into a similarly aggressive creature, they will soon be able to visit 123 Blackrose Street." "What do you mean?" "I, Silhouette, am officially announcing the grand opening of the Penumbral Palace in two weeks. In our shop, you will be able to browse through many self-defense accessories such as tasers, batons, magnetic shields, and reinforced clothing. No lethal weaponry, of course, only items meant to fight off animals or ruffians." "Isn''t there a risk some could use this equipment to rob or attack others?" "You could say the same of a kitchen knife. And frankly, I''d prefer to know the person threatening me did so with something meant to paralyze over a deadly weapon. Rest assured, we reserve the right to veto any sale should we dub any buyer too suspicious. Similarly, we will notify the police and the Union on the best ways to take down anyone using our merchandise." "Is your victory over the Nightsnatcher some sort of public stunt?" "Again, I came across this creature by sheer chance. Besides, anything with the necessary output to kill it is too dangerous to be made available to our regular clientele." "Could you elaborate on that?" "We''d be more than happy to equip our brave agents of the law with some of our more impactful items, including some not meant for sale." "Has the way you''ve been treated so far not changed your opinion?" "As time-consuming as it was, I do not mind the worry the representatives of the law displayed. So long as they strive not to let possible bias get in the way of their investigation, they will discover the truth, and the truth is just as I say." "Aren''t you worried they might impede your venture?" "No. Unless they are corrupt, that is. In this case, I have no doubt their less morally questionable colleagues will intervene. Either way, I know I can rely on you and your fellows to report the matter to the public." "Thank you for your trust. Could you-" "Forgive me, but I have matters to attend." With these words James stepped back, partially melding into the shadows on the ground to retreat further away before completely fading away into a gust of black fog that poured forth and flew past the assembled crowd. Journalists turned to try and follow the phenomenon, but it was too late. The darkness was already gone, with no trace left behind. Of course, those who had been filming or taking photos found themselves with interesting footage to watch and share.
Approaching his facility at high speeds, James mentally patted himself on the back. In his opinion, it had gone rather well. The disappearing act may be a little much, but the theatrics of it should be enough to scare off those who might try to become too nosy. At least he hoped. He knew paparazzi could be determined, but surely dealing with people who could casually distort reality and the like gave them some sort of survival instinct. Well, even if not, the infused were equipped with non-lethal weaponry for this sort of situation. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. As he found himself near his Penumbral Palace, however, James'' good mood quickly went away. Waiting before his front door was a pair of bizarre humanoids, undoubtedly mutants of some sort. If the unwanted and unplanned visitors after a long and annoying day weren''t enough, the clothes they wore gave away who they were. He might not have been a native to Zalcien, but he had been around long enough to recognize the green robes made of living plants weaved together that were the telltale sign of the Hivines. He couldn''t deny the way vines and leaves were assembled while still alive to form a captivating garment was remarkable. Those truly were the perfect attire for a group of nature lovers. His issue stemmed from the fact the Hivines weren''t an ecological group or community that preferred a more primal lifestyle, but rather a cult. On the HardCored forums he was a part of, one member had become one of them and the way she expressed herself was shamelessly that of a brainwashed fanatic. It might be hypocritical of him to dislike someone for altering people''s minds. After all, he too stole free will with his infusion. Even those who had willingly been subjected to the process in the person of Polisson and Mischief were still changed to become loyal to him above all. The big difference, however, was that James wasn''t actively going around trying to corrupt people while portraying the act as a blessing of sorts. When it came to people rather than inanimate objects, he only infused his willing allies or enemies trying to kill him. The Biflora''s religion on the other hand was a spreading plague on the city, one the Union couldn''t handle for the simple fact their manipulative leader knew how to best tango with the law to avoid trouble himself. Again, it could be hypocritical of James to despise someone without meeting purely based on the rumors about them considering what was likely to occur via the media soon. With what happened to Daisy, he knew better. He may have never met her before her indoctrination, but the way the others behaved made it clear she had drastically. Still, it wouldn''t do to just attack the two out of nowhere. So far they appeared to simply wish to talk, given the way they repeatedly knocked on his door. There was no sign they were a threat, so self-defense wouldn''t be an excuse. Not to mention, he already caught the attention of one of the major Villainous factions of the city, he''d much rather avoid repeating that with the mad cultists. The duo of creatures looking for him was... Well, not all that strange considering some of the things he''d seen, but definitely outliers compared to the regular citizens of Zalcien. One had a massive torso with freakishly long arms but was so low on the ground that it either had no legs or stumpy little ones. Its head was somewhat similar to a newt, though unlike the bald amphibians it featured a crest of sort. Flaps of flesh he had mistakenly identified as feathers at first twitched slightly every time the creature moved, somewhat reminding him of parakeets and the like. The second one was much more human-like, to the point it was rather obvious it indeed was one, just heavily distorted. An extra finger and an extra thumb on each hand, bones a slightly too-long neck with bulging vertebrae peeking through the skin, ears that were a little too thick with lobes that dangled down to its protruding chin that went further than its small bulbous nose. Its sandy hair was thick, each strand like a string, and the wild mane hung down to just above the ground. Its forehead was bald, with nothing above its narrow amber eyes. Perfect to fit in the uncanny valley, while at the same time being far more normal than many of the bizarre physiques of the world. Thinking about it, such an appearance might have been possible back on Earth. He''d seen some paintings of those infamous inbred nobles. At least the one waiting for him looked viable enough. He materialized behind them before faking a cough to catch their attention. The newt''s frills puffed up in surprise as the amphibian turned whereas the more normal one stayed calm, looking over its shoulder before forming a small smile on its thin lips. The duo in green robes turned to greet him while performing a light bow, the leaves composing their attire fluttering all the while in an unnatural way that had James consider there might be even more life to those than he had assumed. "Ah, you must be the Silhouette. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The humanoid sounded... Off. It felt as though this was the work of a very good AI rather than a natural voice. Rather than forming new sounds every time, it was like it simply mimicked the ones it had memorized. It was the sort of small detail that would set someone on edge without knowing the reason why. "As my sister says, it is wondrous to meet you." Meanwhile, the newt''s voice was a grating thing, with an underlying thrill accompanying every syllable. For the first time in either of his lives, James understood what people meant when they said they wanted to strangle something just because of the noise it made. Not that he''d go ahead and do the deed, disliking someone''s anything wasn''t a good reason to torment them. He just hoped the uncanny valley representative would be the one doing the talking. "You know who I am. I''m afraid I cannot say the same." "You may call me Clarabelle." "And I am but her humble brother, Lawrence." "As you might have guessed, we are here for official Hivines matters." "If you could find the time to listen, that is. We are aware your day was somewhat tumultuous, we can wait. We''d be more than happy to invite you to come to us when the time is right." Yeah, no. James had no delusion of being smarter than someone capable of openly assembling a cult of happy worshippers in the middle of a city with no repercussions, but he wasn''t about to go headfirst into their den or whatever. That was the quickest way to get ambushed and brainwashed. "I can give you five minutes." The humanoid clicked her tongue while the newt licked his eyeball. James was unsure if the latter meant the same as the former, or if that was just a weird coincidence. "We wish to thank you for your deeds on behalf of the Biflora and all children of nature." "Yes, as my brother says, the demise of this Nightsnatcher abomination is a blessing." "I expected you to value all life equally." "Yes, all spawns of nature are equal." "But the monsters crafted by those whose hubris is greater than their intellect and the nightmares from beyond the world are no such thing." "Indeed, sister, indeed. Manmade horrors and those birthed out in the void are to be put down, for the sake of all." "Your actions put an end to a threat to our natural world." "I do not believe mentioning the Nightsnatcher was eldritch." "The Biflora''s blessing allowed us to know it was not part of the natural order." "And its design was far too beautiful to be the work of the Patcher or Xenocorp''s fools." The big thing that went unsaid here but James nonetheless caught on was that somehow the Hivines got to have agents interacting with the body and got the time to share the news. It hadn''t even been a day, only a few hours. They infiltrated the police, and even worse, possibly the Union. He knew they were everywhere, but experiencing it firsthand was a different thing. He might have to resume the paranoid measures he put in place when he feared there might be a spy for Runar trying to join his employees. "Well, I am happy to see more people benefit from it. But you''ll understand my suspicion when I say I doubt this is the only reason you are here." "Of course, of course. Survival instinct is a powerful thing." "What my brother means to say is that we are used to uncertainty and worry. Be at ease, we simply wish to discuss. We believe you might feel at home among us." "Pardon?" "Zalcien is a city plagued by rot. The Empress'' mechanical minions lay in wait in every corner, waiting for an opportunity to drag you screaming into the darkness." "Abrakaboom and Wicked Witchcraft do as they please, devasting the land with their accursed spells and horrible magic." "And what of the Blood Angels? The lost souls at their command might be feeble, but the inferno and bloodbath brought upon by their leaders are all too great." "Even the people are marked by these sins. Mad machines kept alive despite the risks they pose, devices of all sorts threatening to ruin everything at every moment..." "And our gracious protectors are not free of blame either. You saw it. You lived it. They fear those they feel too different from their carefully selected designs." "They prefer the sharp yet orderly edges of cold metal over the beauty and chaos of blossoming flesh." "And you, dear amorphous friend, are closer to us than them." "So, won''t you consider it? You do not have to choose now. We will always be there, waiting for you to realize the truth." The light in their eyes might have been a heartwarming sight in other circumstances. Here? It wasn''t. The mere notion of these two talking about their cult like this, as though they were talking about their favorite thing in all of existence or their lifelong goal, was sickening. Those weren''t the eyes of Polisson, Mischief, Techlord, or the Infused. Those were the eyes of his children when they were watching Captain Cyan and talking about their dreams of becoming Heroes. To turn that childlike wonder into this... Disgusting. Sadly, he didn''t have the leeway to share his true thoughts. At the end of the day, he still couldn''t afford to antagonize them. He wouldn''t be their friend, but he couldn''t let them become enemies. "I appreciate your offer. Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do. Feel free to tell the Biflora I appreciate his gratitude." With that, he turned back into a shadow and he was gone. The two figures cloaked in plants simply bowed once more before walking away, their faces unmoving as they left in silence. Chapter 158 : Creators and creations Though they dwelled in vastly different fields, Techlord still respected the man he accompanied back to the exit of the Shadow Den, the repurposed orphanage they used as their base in the Sunken City. Mesker Duskenfer may have come from some rich noble family or whatever wizards did, but it was clear he bothered to get his hands dirty, unlike some other people who worked alongside his boss. Like, say, some pompous robot. He only needed to watch the man walking beside him to notice the differences. That Decanov was a shameless city-dweller, and his pristine white lab coat was only further proof of that along with the shining metal that composed his body. Meanwhile, Duskenfer was here, down in the nitty-gritty, and the way the skin of his arms had become blacker than coal rather than its natural pale hue was proof of his efforts. He was a man who meddled with demons and lived to grow old. A man who experimented with bizarre materials every day. A man whose lifestyle was not unlike his own. Again, drastically different from some smug machine that stayed holed up in a neat workshop. "You seem troubled, young man." He turned to look at the old wizard accompanying him. His luxurious robes did lower Techlord''s opinion of him, especially with their golden firey design, but he could hazard a guess they were somewhat similar to his armor. It was something made to be functional first and foremost, with some purely aesthetic additions only put in when nothing else could. And, well, the final result did look far better than anything made in the slums reasonably should. His knowledge of magic was vague at best, but he could hazard a guess that these clothes were heavily enchanted. "It''s nothing." "Are you still bothered by that mechanical fellow? You two seemed tense in our last meeting." "Nah. So long as he stays up there and doesn''t put his stupid nose in my business, I''m fine." "If you say so. I must admit I did not expect Silhouette to rely on such an explosive character. I''m happy the two of them seem to get along." "You know that bozzo?" "Somewhat. I can say Silhouette continues his streak of surrounding himself with capable yet unstable people." "You count me among those?" "Techlord, think for a moment. You are still young, you are more heavily burned than some victims of blazing imps wind up, and your usual way of expressing yourself heavily involves complaining or antagonizing others. It is a miracle someone as paranoid as your employer feels safe leaving you alone down here." "Screw you." "Do not take this the wrong way. You are highly intelligent for one so young, and your inventions from mere scraps are impressive. It is simply a fact of life that the most competent people are often also the most extravagant." The teen in sci-fi armor rolled his eyes behind his helmet. He''d take the compliment and ignore the rest. "What about you? You''re dressed awfully well for someone living down here with the rest of us." "I like my calm and quiet. This desolate place lets me live in peace." "And how do you find clients then?" "I find them. Those I trust receive the means of contacting me, and sometimes they lend those. Not to mention, unlike Silhouette, I do not need business. It is welcome since it allows me to acquire better reagents, but I could continue my isolated lifestyle uninterrupted until the end of my days." "You could just say you''re retired and only help people you know or their pals." "And ruin the myth? No, no no no. Let me give you a piece of advice I learned from my long time as a demonologist: always maintain the legend. People are more likely to take you seriously if they don''t consider you a person but a force. Just look at Silhouette." Techlord hummed as he pondered the thought. Sure, he saw the point. His boss did make efforts to keep his facade as some almighty shadow beast or whatever going. On the other hand, he knew that wasn''t who he truly was. He hardly heard of anyone else offering their employees donuts in the slums, at least not without adding in some questionable substances to the mix. Not to mention, it was taxing. Silhouette often looked stretched to the limit of his ability and was constantly busy. Well, so was he with the work that kept getting dropped on him, but he could tell running this mess was more stressful than his tinkering. Yeah, that whole cloaks and daggers and creating a myth stuff wasn''t for him. He''d much rather make a big gun and wave it around to get people''s respect. "Yeah, not my style. The boss''s theatrics aren''t my kinda thing." "I can see why. You are far too blunt to enjoy the theatrics. Though I must admit, I am curious as to how you found yourself under his employ. You two do not seem to have enough in common to meet naturally." "Funny story, that. He skinned me." "He what?" "Got in a fight with a bunch of Patchees to test my latest mech, won without breaking a sweat, and then Sunburn turned up. Silhouette was passing by and saved me, though not without peeling me like a potato to remove the molten armor burnt into me." "Goodness gracious. As a pyromancer, I know the sort of thing he is capable of, and let me say, you are recovering very well." "Thanks, I guess. I had some trouble early on, but now? Now I can''t wait to blast him in the face with the Techzooka." "Ah yes, that." As the mage cringed when remembering the devastation the poorly named weapon brought, he suddenly found his attention caught elsewhere. Approaching the duo from the outskirts of the area surrounding the orphanage was a bizarre shambling figure. The two didn''t need to talk. The lights on Techlord''s armor lit up as gadgets and gizmos readied themselves while the demonologist prepared a fireball in each of his hands, his brow furrowing as he tried to scry the strange interloper seeking them. No, scratch that. As the metal and plastic armor of the younger of the two lit up, the odd thing quickened its pace, and as it drew closer it became evident it was solely focused on the inventor. Soon both could discern the traits of the being, and both found themselves getting a little nauseous. The humanoid mangled mess''s struggles to utilize its joints were explained by its abominable body. It was a skeleton covered in fractures and held together by charred flesh and colorful melted bits of inorganic materials, scarlet moss forming strings and patches to mimic muscles and drive the carcass forward. Had the thing been immobile, it would have been impossible to discern it was somewhat alive. Well, there was something else at play. Something that likely explained how broken remains and carnal trash could be capable of motion, let alone life. A green gem lightly pulsed in the thing''s torso, partly peeking out of the ribcage due to the way some of the bones were missing and the local carnivorous flora covering them failed to grow over the magically glowing rock. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Overgrown masses of moss formed lumps on the head of the skeleton, almost completely covering the sockets of the skull whose jaw began to clatter as it got near, thin strings of red plants bringing it up and down as sounds impossibly found their way out of the carrion monster''s chest. "Origin... Origin..." The teen and the senior watched the repulsing yet captivating display get closer. "Mesker, you''re the exorcist. Is that a zombie?" "Boy, I have no idea what that thing is. All I know is it is more alive than dead, and I''m tempted to remedy that." The thing''s foot got caught on a rock and it fell. Undisturbed, it continued to crawl forward as its limbs adjusted their position to allow it to continue moving while standing back up at the same time, its legs soon arching above its head and trunk before resting once more on the floor in a display normally observed among gymnasts, not horrors. It was, thanks to its bizarre body composition, also much more horrifying than the already uncomfortable display of flexibility could be to some people. Needless to say, Techlord was very glad he had installed some perfume diffuser in his helmet to help fight back the rising urge to puke. "Origin... Origin!" "Why haven''t you done so already, then?" "As tempting as it is, I''d rather avoid burning down a poor confused yet perfectly sapient and safe undead just because it sent a few shivers down our spines." "Why do you think I''m afraid?" "Because this thing somewhat unsettles me, and I handle demons for a living." "Origin!" "Alright, what about that crystal? The boss said the lights on my armor screamed weak points, is something similar going on here?" "Well, such a glow is usually the sign of a heavy concentration of mana, yes. Give me a moment." The mage dispelled one of his burning orbs to instead form a violet circle he placed in front of one of his eyes. He hummed in thought as he studied the item lodged in the creature''s chest before letting go of his remaining fireball. "Well, that is one surprising discovery. Techlord, I believe there is no need to be ready for a fight." The teen turned to question the old man''s decision right as the shambling mess arrived before them. Rather than charge or jump or screech or anything of the like, it stared at his armored form. It did nothing else, simply standing there and lightly swaying, its inhaling voice occasionally arising once more to resume its call in whispers. "Origin..." "Mesker, explain." "This green gem is what we commonly refer to as a Second Chance Pendant. A very situational and often unreliable form of resurrection, though cheaper than all other safe options. Have you heard of the phoenix? Marvelous birds. Due to their theoretically infinite lifespan, their ability to reproduce plummeted, resulting in clutches occurring only once a decade. To make matters worse, most of these eggs will never hatch. Even if they are fertilized, they cannot grow to fruition if their inherent mystical power is insufficient." "Mesker." "Yes, yes. Second Chance Pendants are essentially crystallized failed fetuses. That is how they function. They kickstart the reaction for revival, bringing the soul back to the body of the recently deceased. Unlike better methods, the body remains unchanged, so lethal wounds are not healed." "So that should not be alive." "Under normal circumstances, yes. See, those stillborn eggs can occasionally reach adulthood. Very rarely, destroying them and initiating their natural fiery revival will resurrect them into healthy chicks." "That doesn''t look like a bird." "Yes, it does not. You see, what we have here is what in our field we call an improbable mishap." "Ah, we have stuff like that. When all the trash somehow reacts together and explodes." "Exactly. See, I believe our dead man failed to activate their pendant in their last moments, and since then has been serving as a pleasant bed for this local bit of carnivorous flora." "Yeah, Blood Moss. Go on." "Well, something composed of enough human flesh must have made contact with it, activated the gem, and somehow the event birthed this thing. My theory is whatever new material arrived provided the necessary life energy to kickstart the reaction and thus heavily influenced our newborn recycled soul." "Alright, but what does it want with... Me..." Not that his brain wasn''t stuck in fight or flight, he could recognize pieces of the plastic and metal bits spread throughout the body. Namely, if he squinted past their highly damaged state, they looked somewhat similar to his previous white armor, before he met Silhouette and got access to all those new shadow materials. An armor that he had last worn when he was piloting his Tech Mech. A Tech Mech that got incinerated by Sunburn which resulted in his armor melting over his skin. Like, say, the skin currently attached to the debris on this walking carcass. "It''s my skin isn''t it." "That is what I''m led to believe, yes." The teen sighed under the careful gaze of this abomination he seemingly was indirectly involved in making. He removed his helmet and exposed his scarred and hairless head to the world, holding it against his waist as he stepped closer to the living carcass. Yes, now that he was better informed, he could it. He could see how it wasn''t being aggressive but curious, not feral but hopeful. The thing partially made of his discarded flesh froze as he got closer, the tip of his toes nearly touching its own. He held back a grumble as he realized the creature was a good head taller than him, and internally he began to rant on stupidly large people despite the fact the skeleton that served as its core was relatively average for a normal human male. The distraction didn''t last long thankfully, quickly thrown to the side in favor of further studying the not quite undead that had come to see him. Yes, he realized it now. Silhouette said he had thrown his peeled skin and ruined suit away in the flow of the sewage. It had been some time now since he had been recruited by the shadowy man. What Mesker said implied his skin had still been fresh when it kickstarted that strange reaction. How long did this process take? How long had it been wandering in the tunnels? Had it been searching for him all this time? Did it truly find a way from its native sewers to the Sunken City just for him? He sighed again before placing his hand on its shoulder, ignoring the way the red moss covering it squelched at his touch. "Alright. First order of business, we gotta get you presentable. Mesker, any chance you can help rearrange it to not look like a dude that''s been left rotting for months?" "Sadly not. Even a flesh weaver would struggle considering it is also part plant and part inorganic." "Alright. So, gotta make a new suit. That''s fine. I didn''t both hours of sleep anyway." "Origin?" "That sounds dreadfully unhealthy. Before you continue, may I advise you to take a moment to think about a name? Do ponder it, it will-" "Come on Tech Junior, we have measuring to do." "Origin!" "Second order of business: teaching how to use more than one world." As the inventor and his adopted spawn turned around to return to the Shadow Den, completely forgetting his initial task of accompanying Mesker away, the mage couldn''t help but voice his thoughts out loud once the two were out of earshot. "What a terrible name for such a heartwarming story."
Alan Leone was a man of science above all. If he was shown undeniable evidence, he could easily interpret it and begin to theorize. He was not some blind idiot who refused to admit the truth when it stared him in the face. And yet, here he was. He stared horrified at the screen before him that showed a humanoid figure vanishing into a cloud of black smoke, the footage rewinding back and forth courtesy of his employer''s hand pressing a button on his remote. Mister Marley was almost nonchalant about the whole thing, but the lack of emotion was deceiving. Everyone knew the CEO of Xenocorp kept a friendly at all times, even when threatening employees. For him to fail to maintain the masquerade... Regardless, the poor scientist in the room was far too preoccupied with the impossible reality facing him to fully realize how out of character his employer was. The handsome man in the dapper suit ultimately put an end to the loop, pausing the footage after a final rewind to show in detail the dark entity in the middle of its transformation. He slowly put down the remote on his desk before putting his hands together, elbows resting on the wooden furniture while his fingertips and his palms stayed apart. "I remember you telling me Project Null was dead, Alan." The man with a youthful face but elderly hair''s head jumped from the frozen screen to the businessman so rapidly that he lost his balance and almost fell out of his chair. "It''s... It''s..." "Then, pray tell, how do you explain this?" "It can''t be..." "Oh, but it can. As soon as he appeared I had our people blazing through the city in search of answers. He first appeared in the slums. He is the leader of a ring of arms dealers of sorts. Everything related to him, be it products or bases, is overflowing with dark energies. Namely, the very same ones your creation displayed." He leaned forward and a little closer, his eyes piercing through the scientist''s confusion and panic. "Care to explain?" "Mister Marley... I... I assure you! I checked everything myself! Project Null burned all of its life force to escape! It would have died in minutes!" "I remember you being much more conservative with those sorts of declarations. Namely, I remember you begging me to scour the city in search of it before it could recuperate and rampage." "I know... I... That''s why I''m sure. I... I broke some rules. Used tools and footage you forbade me from approaching after the failure. I needed to be sure. To know it was dead. That it couldn''t be a threat." Mister Marley leaned back in his seat and let his fingers drum against the wood. "Then we have a problem, Alan. You see, despite your recent failings, I am inclined to believe you. Which begs the question: if our Project Null died, then what is this?" Both men turned to stare at the paused footage, a recording from one of the city''s news channels. A blonde journalist was interrogating someone the channel labeled as "Silhouette, the man who ended the Nightsnatcher". Someone who was exactly what their dear secret project was meant to become. Chapter 159 : Folks online
Hardcored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: GUYS. GUYS. DID YOU SEE? TechnoGogo: Yes honey, we saw. Now get down from the table. KillLaKrill: Wait, what are we talking about here? (Mod)Seagullag: Remember that Silhouette guy? He just showed up on TV. He killed the Nightsnatcher and brought it to the Union. KillLaKrill: For real? MagicIsTragic: I told you! I told you all! You said I was delusional, but who''s laughing now? Me! I am! TechnoGogo: I don''t see what you''re so hyped about. We knew the guy existed. MagicIsTragic: Come on. The dude killed something the Union couldn''t find. And did you see the cloud of shadows thing? The Silence: It is more common for a predator to fall to its prey than to be hunted down. KillLaKrill: Yeah, what he said. Trust the merman on that, stuff is more likely to kill itself against you than you are to successfully catch it. Now give me a minute to look for a replay or something. TechnoGogo: I will say, all that fancy talk about his shop does sound interesting. At least enough to order a random gizmo to dismantle. (Mod)Seagullag: I dunno. Even if it turns out he''s legit, I don''t think I''d need whatever he''s selling. I''m not gonna clubber anyone any day soon. MagicIsTragic: Killjoy. TechnoGogo: You''re just mad there''s nothing magical in his stuff. MagicIsTragic: As far as we know. Besides, if they look good, those reinforced clothes could be nice. TechnoGogo: You know it''s likely all black, right? That''s how everything around the guy seems to be so far. KillLaKrill: Embrace the goth. You cannot escape its grasp. Also, I just checked it out, that dude needs to start doing leg day, and that''s coming from someone with a fishtail. MagicIsTragic: Your beguiling calls have no power here. Colors rule. TechnoGogo: Speak for yourself. I''m sure Silence is down for the monochrome. The Silence: Black isn''t necessarily goth, it can also be emo or even ska. Either way, it''s not just about the hue but the cut of the cloth as well. TechnoGogo: See? Saray: I just hope the drama ends soon. He seems like an ok guy. TechnoGogo: A little dramatic, but yeah. Looks as harmless as any other corporate dude. I mean, I''m all for eating the rich, but the dude hasn''t done anything yet. I mean, there''s the slums business, but that was more self-defense than anything. MagicIsTragic: Says you. That speech, those theatrics, the awesome dark powers... There''s enough here to make one glorious Villain. It''d be nice to get someone with an elemental shtick other than Sunburn for once. Saray: We''re talking about a person, here. (Mod)Seagullag: Yes, Saray is right on that. Don''t go villainizing folks Tragic. MagicIsTragic: Yeah, yeah. JamesIsInTheDark: I don''t know about the criminal stuff or whatever, but I think it''d be smart not to get close. Saray: Not you too, James. You can''t be scared of him just because of his looks! You have shadow powers too! JamesIsInTheDark: Oh, no, that''s not what I''m saying. Sure, he looks dark and gloomy, but I''m sure Silence does as well and he''s harmless. No, what I''m worried about is everything else. Like, hasn''t Abrakaboom been seen dropping by his place not long ago? Not to mention he said the Nightsnatcher attacked his employee and he just so happened to be nearby. Like, doesn''t that sound like they were just used as bait? KillLaKrill: Nah, stuff happens. It makes sense if it didn''t happen far from his place. I mean, if I was hunted by a monster and I had a boss who could take it on, I''d run to the workplace too. TechnoGogo: If you have to deal with nightmarish creatures, make sure it''s on company time! They legally can''t blame you! (Mod)Seagullag: Aren''t you still a student? how would you even know that? TechnoGogo: My sister knows how to squeeze out the most vacation time and breaks from her job. MagicIsTragic: She''s getting eaten one day. Saray: Tragic! JamesIsInTheDark: I mean, she has a point. Don''t play with fire and all that stuff. MagicIsTragic: Calm down there, boyo. Let''s not say anything we might regret. TechnoGogo: Yeah, like she says. Playing with fire is the best thing ever. Well, second best. Electricity is simply superior. KillLaKrill: Every passing day I''m curious as to which one of you will unleash a catastrophe first. The Silence: I''m curious as to whether he''d be taking interns. MagicIsTragic: Gasp! Silence has found his people! TechnoGogo: Sound the alarms! Ring the bells! The Silence: I hate you both. TechnoGogo: Love you too, buddy. JamesIsInTheDark: What would you even do at an internship at this Penumbral Palace thing? KillLaKrill: Gods, that name sounds like the last zone in a game before the final boss. Stolen novel; please report. MagicIsTragic: Or the holy site of an ancient abyss-worshipping cult. He does look like he came out of there. TechnoGogo: Yeah, wasn''t that one of our theories last time? (Mod)Seagullag: Yes, when you were discussing the pillar of darkness. But please, avoid racially profiling people. I''d much rather not get another shutdown so close to the last one. They might close this chatroom and ban us all. JamesIsInTheDark: How many are there, exactly? I just found this one while looking for advice online. (Mod)Seagullag: Depends. In theory, there are a hundred public ones like ours, but a lot of those are locked or in perpetual maintenance. I do not have access to the number of private ones. JamesIsInTheDark: It feels like there should be more people around then. TechnoGogo: We''re in the middle of the list. Whether you start at the beginning or the end, you probably find something before reaching us. MagicIsTragic: That, and forums just aren''t as popular anymore. Why come here when you can use more regular and modern social media instead? KillLaKrill: Loathe as we are to admit it, the fact we''re here is proof we''re just as much of a bunch of hipsters as Silence. The Silence: I am not what you call a hipster. I am not a contrarian who only opposes society to stand out from it and feed my ego, nor am I someone who prefers a nostalgia-tinted past that will always seem better than an unpredictable future. I am merely disillusioned and can now see the truth of the world, its bleakness, its slow approach to the end. TechnoGogo: That''s a lot of words for a guy named Silence. The Silence: I fail to see a rebuke. Saray: Anyway, as we were saying, this isn''t a very popular site. Which is fine by me, I like our quiet. KillLaKrill: Yeah, it''s clear we wouldn''t feel as comfortable if there were more folks. Like, Magic and Techno bicker all the time yet they strike as the awfully shy type. If those two met in real life, I''m pretty sure they''d just stand there awkwardly without saying a thing. MagicIsTragic: Curse you, fish boy. TechnoGogo: You''re no lady''s man, buddy. KillLaKrill: See? Wallflowers, both of them. They vent all of their excessive social energy here. Saray: Krill, be nice. Please. KillLaKrill: I''m just teasing. Besides, I know they''d blow me up if we were face to face. TechnoGogo: Damn right we would. MagicIsTragic: I''ve been working out an oil and frying spell just for the occasion. The Silence: The fish and chips spell? MagicIsTragic: Its delicious culinary applications are merely a bonus. TechnoGogo: Oh, now that''s an idea. I''ve been looking for an excuse to disassemble the family air fryer. JamesIsInTheDark: Those work with fish? TechnoGogo: They do if you''re not a coward. JamesIsInTheDark: Noted. MagicIsTragic: Is it really a fryer if you don''t drown your food in boiling oil? TechnoGogo: Yes. We don''t need siege defenses anymore, you witch. MagicIsTragic: Says the one conjuring heat out of thin air. TechnoGogo: That''s not how any of this works and you know it. MagicIsTragic: Sorcery I say! TechnoGogo: Return to the dark ages from whence you came, you uneducated peasant. KillLaKrill: Catfight! Catfight! Place your debts folks! TechnoGogo: I''m going to fillet you. MagicIsTragic: I''ll squeeze you in a tuna can you over-glorified sardine. (Mod)Seagullag: And thus we see an example of one of the major rules of warfare, the enemy of my enemy is my ally. Saray: Friendship prevails. All is right in the world. JamesIsInTheDark: I''d say it''s more appropriate to call it a rivalry, a parallel path to mundane friendship. KillLaKrill: Ah, "no one can beat up this idiot except me" syndrome. Truly a healthy bond. JamesIsInTheDark: The healthiest, indeed. (Mod)Seagullag: Push each other to grow better while defending both from outside threats. Unironically a good relationship with the right people and in the right situation. Saray: Just remember to be nice! MagicIsTragic: Is that another lesson you learned in your winter wonderland? (Mod)Seagullag: Yes. MagicIsTragic: Uh. TechnoGogo: Could you elaborate? (Mod)Seagullag: Could? Yes. Will? No. TechnoGogo: Fair enough. MagicIsTragic: But I wanna know! (Mod)Seagullag: Then be disappointed. KillLaKrill: Cold. TechnoGogo: Like frozen steel straight out of the forge. (Mod)Seagullag: The metal would be hot then. TechnoGogo: Uh. MagicIsTragic: Ah! You blundered it! KillLaKrill: Is that even a word? MagicIsTragic: My phone says it is. KillLaKrill: Good to know. Saray: Back to the topic at hand, I just hope this whole drama will fade away and people will stop being afraid of a man just because he''s a little odd. MagicIsTragic: Man, I hope his pillar of darkness weapon will be shown off. TechnoGogo: I''m pretty sure it''s a bomb of some kind. I don''t see how you could justify selling that to civilians. KillLaKrill: Meh, I can see them being sold off as anti-Super defenses. They''d probably be heavily regulated, though. Saray: Something this destructive and distracting would never be allowed. JamesIsInTheDark: Yeah, I can''t see how the Union would allow something that looks like the apocalypse. Even for the police. TechnoGogo: Now that you say it, yeah, the cops don''t get that kind of fancy stuff, at least not outside of those stationed around the slums. Even then, none of their toys can bloat out the sky like that. MagicIsTragic: Shame. Imagine how cool it''d be to have a barrier that reaches high into the heavens. JamesIsInTheDark: That sounds dystopic. KillLaKrill: Yeah, like he said. Saray: It would be horrible and immoral! TechnoGogo: Not to mention terribly power-hungry. Like, that sort of stuff could double the entire city''s usage. (Mod)Seagullag: I''d rather avoid the inflated taxes solely used to discriminate against the poor and send a message. I left Draskia for a reason. MagicIsTragic: Sure, but it''d look cool. JamesIsInTheDark: Maybe let''s keep the aurora borealis-looking stuff for national holidays rather than cartoonishly evil plans. You know, like fireworks. TechnoGogo: I love it when Supers get involved in those. Last year Mecha Man did great. MagicIsTragic: Drone shows are dumb. I prefer Miss Malice''s hexes. KillLaKrill: Gotta agree with the magical pyromaniac on this one. Seeing pretty lights line up to make cool things in the sky is nice and all, but I prefer my shows to boom and dazzle. (Mod)Seagullag: I see your point, but I like the quiet. Saray: It''s also less disruptive and doesn''t make animals as anxious! JamesIsInTheDark: Honestly, I think both are valid. I prefer fireworks worth, they feel more impactful, more real. But again, I get why you prefer the calmer light shows. KillLaKrill: Ah, you put it in words. Yeah, impactful, that''s it. It feels like there''s genuinely something happening, that you''re living the moment. That drone thing felt too disconnected. MagicIsTragic: Like the difference between watching a movie on TV or at the cinema. KillLaKrill: You get me. Saray: I understand your arguments, but I still prefer the quiet and peacefulness of light shows. Not to mention, they feel plenty impactful to me. Watching the night sky transform like that almost feels like a dream. It''s like being whisked away in a fairytale. MagicIsTragic: Please don''t mention those around here. With our luck, one might be bored enough to get interested. Saray: Talking about fairytales isn''t enough to get the fair folk''s attention, Magic. MagicIsTragic: Says you. Trust me, if there''s nothing going on with them, they''ll jump at the tiniest opportunities and loopholes just to have some fun. (Mod)Seagullag: Let''s steer away from the topic. While they''re not explicitly forbidden here, they''re still troublemakers. Trust me, I ran into their shenanigans back in Draskia, you don''t want to get involved. KillLaKrill: Whoa, seriously dude? You gotta tell us more. (Mod)Seagullag: That''s where you''re wrong. Not only do I not have to, but it''s best for everyone here I don''t. That''s how they get you. TechnoGogo: Tease.
James chuckled in his bed. The ratlings were piled up on most of his mass, snoring as they slept soundly on his pillowy body. He may not need to sleep, but taking this time to relax was nice. Using his phone without its maximum luminosity was annoying, but he''d rather be somewhat bothered than that than risk waking the kids up. It had been a long day for all of them, and tomorrow was shaping up to be equally draining. Talking with his new friends online was a good way to unwind. They were a silly bunch, but also highly informative. For instance, he now had a good idea of what the public at large thought of Silhouette instead of the usual cloak and daggers factions he was used to. He just hoped Silence wouldn''t come knocking at his door. He didn''t want his two lives to mix. For everyone''s sake. Chapter 160 : Black at Blackrose It only took a couple of knocks for James to open the door and discover the man his neighbor had hired to handle their pest problem. He looked fairly average for someone in their thirties, though he had to admit he looked more like a farmer than an exterminator even past the first glance. Honestly, if it hadn''t been for the yellow cap with the crossed-out cockroach, James would have thought this was just a new incoming crisis in his life rather than the continuation of one of the existing ones. "Hello there, your neighbor should have told you about me. My name''s Welch Almaro, but you can just call me Brutazap. I''ve been hired to deal with a potential rodent infestation, can I take a moment of your time?" "Oh, of course. James Valdest. Though, did you say rodents?" "Yup. Your neighbor and their family spotted them in the night. Would you happen to know or have seen anything?" "Uhm, well, now that you say it... One of my children may have been sneaking out. Kids?" James turned his featureless to watch the five not-so-little rats sitting on their haunches in line. He had been prepared for this visit, and he figured showing them off as soon as possible would help. Meanwhile, Brutazap raised a brow when he saw the largest of the bunch do a quick little wave at him, a goofy smile on his face. "Is that all of them?" The exterminator''s question interrupted James'' performance right as he was about to ask the ratlings about possible sorties. "Yes? "Then they aren''t the ones who''ve been spotted. I investigated the places. I only found black hair. No white or grey." "Oh, that''s good to know. Sorry for suspecting you, kids." As could be expected, the siblings were not equal in their little act, though not in the way he first assumed. While Lucille was always stern and serious, her stern nod looked more suspicious than anything here. Ironically, David''s nonchalance and constant state of rebellion made him much more believable here. "So, with that out the way, are you sure you didn''t see strange stuff at night?" "Well, I did see a thing or two scurrying beneath the window, but I thought they were just cats." "Nothing else?" "No. I''m sorry I can''t be more helpful, but I arrived here only recently, so I can''t tell you what is or isn''t usual." "Don''t worry about it." The man then went on to fetch something out of his pocket before handing James a green and yellow business card. "If you see or hear anything, don''t hesitate to call me. Don''t worry about the bill, if it''s connected to those black rats it''ll still count as part of your neighbor''s job." "Oh, thank you. Is there anything in particular I should be looking for?" "Black rats, like I told you. Big ones, as large as cats supposedly. Also, keep an eye out for strange or moving shadows where there shouldn''t be, I''ve got reason to believe there might be some elemental shenanigans at play. I''m not sure they''ll come back around here, some tracks say they''re just passing by, but better be safe than sorry when dealing with abnormal vermin." "I''ll keep this in mind. Thank you for the advice." "No, thank you for taking the time to talk. I''ll be visiting your neighbors now, so if anything suddenly comes to mind in a minute or two, don''t hesitate to look for me. Now I''ll leave you and your kids alone. Goodbye." "Goodbye!" With a final nod to punctuate the end of the exchange, the man walked away and James closed his apartment door. His civilian almost deflated with the relief at the stress leaving him, and soon enough he was sitting on the couch buried in a cuddly pile of furry bodies. For once in this new life, a problem had appeared and been solved without extensive violence. Hell, this whole conversation almost felt normal. It was like being back on Earth, except for the new body and magical nature of the creatures the exterminator was looking for. He was also quite pleased to find out the plan for Mischief to be faking a migration was apparently working so far. They''d just have to see if this Brutazap fully took the bait or if he would notice something was off down the line, but until then, it looked like there''d be no more issues around his apartment. James sighed as Goliath struggled to hug his somewhat viscous head. If only things could keep going so smoothly.
A crowd of journalists had formed around the Penumbral Palace by the time James got there. It was to be expected, he had given away the location of his future shop after all, but it was still a bother. Suddenly he found himself growing more sympathetic toward celebrities. He already knew paparazzi were a nightmare and understood perfectly why they often wore disguises when going out, but now he had a new perspective on the much more regular and controlled events, like public interviews or walks on the red carpet. Still, he steeled himself. He didn''t have to go to work per se, he could handle most matters by phone call, but there was a weight to the act he wanted to uphold. Being physically present felt different. Not to mention, it would be safer for him to be present to handle anyone who might have the bright idea to cause trouble. The Infused could handle the rif-raf, and with their new equipment he would be willing to bet they''d even be able to handle low-level Supers, but folks like Soluble weren''t what he was afraid of. Not everyone was an Abrakaboom, but there definitely were more dangerous people other than the glorified thugs he had met so far. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. This newfound confidence was quickly bashed away by a grandiose flash of light that no one could miss. When the brightness faded away, two figures revealed themselves. A large white lanky being with silvery wings and a halo of mercury floating above its porcelain-like featureless head accompanied a comparatively small man who wore a dashing black suit. James knew the two well. Judging by their reactions, so did the crowd. The journalists parted to make way for the strange duo, the tall resplendent creature impassible while the regular human kept on smiling at the people surrounding them. Before long the pair stood before the doors to the factory and they turned as one to address their public, though the otherworldly one quickly took a step back and made a step back for their fleshier counterpart who did the exact opposite and stepped forward and took centerstage. "Why, hello there everyone. I''m happy to see you all have taken an interest in our latest celebrity." "Mister Blake Black, what is your relationship with Silhouette?" "Oh, our shadowy friend and I are associates of a sort. He came to me with a project, and his hard work and grit convinced me to give him a chance. Why, it''s why I''m lending him this facility free of charge. I have no doubt this enterprise will be a great success, and I cannot wait for you all to see his and his team''s hard work." "How did you two meet?" "Why, it was a fated encounter. Now if you''ll excuse me, time is precious, and ours especially is invaluable. Unlike some of you would like to waste it?" The young man''s voice was just as friendly with those last words, but the smile that graced his lips didn''t reach his eyes. It only took a few moments and exchanged glances among the curious before the crowd dispersed, some calmly walking away. In contrast, others were much less subtle with their fear, running faster than expected with the equipment some carried. In seconds the street was clear and the bank manager turned to the left and winked at the neighboring shadows, likely aiming for James. Unfortunately for the dramatic effect, he was actually hidden in the shadows on his right. To spare the ego of his ally, James did sneak back around to emerge roughly where the human had been looking. Of course, while Blake was fooled, the way Nanyet''s head followed his slithers let him know the celestial was well aware of his position at all times. "Mister Black. How wonderful of you to visit." "Come on now, Silhouette. You can call me Blake." "If you insist, Blake." "See? Much easier. But before anything else, let me congratulate you on this Nightsnatcher business. You handle things well for someone new to this." "Coming from you, it is high praise. Allow me to thank you in turn for this calm." "Ah, not fond of journalists, eh? I can''t blame you. Not only have I been trained for this sort of situation by experts in the field, but I also have Nanyet to filter them out." The towering pale figure nodded. "Indeed. I can confirm that, much like the rest of the affairs of our branch of the Black Bank, I manage most matters before they reach Master Blake." The human, only half the size of the celestial, faked a cough as he stepped to the side to stand between it and James. "Bah, in any case, I''d be more than happy to give you some numbers, either for lessons or hiring." "I greatly appreciate it. Though, may I ask why they fled so quickly?" "Oh, my powers aren''t exactly secret. Everyone in Zalcien should know that I work with equivalent exchanges. If they were to waste our valuable time, they could find themselves forced to pay a debt beyond them." "You would kill people in broad delight?" "No! Goodness gracious no! Who said anything about killing? No, if worst came to worst I would have sent strongly worded letters to their employers. Just because I can harm them doesn''t mean I will. Not to mention the police and the Union would be after me in a blink of an eye. Oh, it may have sounded like the threat, but the people who matter know it only was meaningless words." The man stepped forward and placed his hand on one of James'' shoulder-like spikes - or perhaps spiky shoulders, it was hard to decide the proper term when he had no arms - as he continued to talk. "It''s an important lesson for people like you and me to know: ensure people take you seriously without ever antagonizing the authorities. It''s a difficult balance to find, and I won''t deny it is crude, but it works. Having a fearsome reputation has its uses for small things like chasing off nosy journalists, but it will also be vital to fend off more genuine threats. You''ve already done a good job so far. Perhaps you''re a little too nice, but that''s better than the alternative. Being too personable can draw bad attention, but it''s still good press." "I am already aware I need to show I''m not weak, Blake. And unlike you, I don''t have a family more powerful than countries ready to cover for my failings. Your support and advice are appreciated nonetheless. Now, I can guess you''re not here merely to congratulate me and spare me from the press. Speak." "Oh, then we''ll have to do something to better hide that paranoia of yours. Anyway, I''m here in part to ask you about this two-week business, but also to find out more about the Nightsnatcher story. I was quite surprised to discover you never tried to contact me and that you gave the Union the real corpse given its potential value. Why?" "You are another associate, not my superior. I can handle my problems without your supervision. As for the body, I made sure to give it in public and openly stated I was merely lending it to the Union." "If they try and keep it or give you a fake, you can rat them out. Splendid. But Silhouette, remember that I''m your ally. I have more experience and contacts than you do, so don''t hesitate to ask for my help when you need it. My hands may be bound by the family rules when it comes to most matters, but ask anyway. Better be safe than sorry, as they say. I understand your worries and doubts, but you can''t succeed alone. I couldn''t have stopped Abrakaboom''s attack, but we could have finagled something to ensure your survival for instance." "You''ll have to forgive me for being wary, considering I have yet to live more than one peaceful day in a row so far in this city." "Which is exactly why you should have called me. Have I done anything to betray your trust or that went against your goals? You learned to trust Decanov, a man few in this city would dare to hire." "I see your point. I also see your bodyguard." The oligarch brushed off his worries. "Nanyet is more of an emotional support than anything. If they truly disturb you so, I can always ask them to leave." "This course of action seems ill-advised, Master Blake." "Hush you." James considered the situation. Blake wasn''t wrong. Despite his objectively horrendous background, the man had been nothing but helpful. Oh, James wouldn''t be trusting him with his life just yet, this was someone who came from a long line of people who specialized in manipulating others to further their gains, but he could give him the benefit of the doubt. "Fine. Do you want to come on in for a visit?" "Oh, I''d be delighted to. I''m sure our mad scientist has been hard at work." "Blake, I have found that treating people with respect goes a long way to convince them not to blow up your property." The banker simply chuckled. Chapter 161 : Black and Decanov Doctor Decanov didn''t have any apparent reaction when he saw James accompanied by the infamous bank manager and his celestial guardian. Not even as the pale being gracefully contorted its body in various ways whenever it passed by a place far too narrow for its large form, easily twice as tall as a human. James had to congratulate the mechanical man, he genuinely didn''t know if the robot was that blas¨¦ or if he was a great actor. Thinking about it a little, considering both his personality and the ease with which a non-organic being could control their body language, both possibilities were equally likely. The factory part of the Penumbral Palace had drastically changed since James and Blake first visited it. In the past, the duo had been welcomed by either hollow space or broken machinery. Now? Now the doctor''s work had turned this silent and abandoned tomb of industry into a buzzing hive of activity and progress. Conveyor belts rolled, pistons went up and down, presses hammered, and gigantic arms connected to the ceiling slid everywhere while putting their joints to the test. Notably, nothing was currently being made. Though the arms mimicked picking up items, slicing and dicing, and various other things, it was nothing more than a mime act. "Silhouette. I see have we have guests." "Doctor. Allow me to introduce Blake Black and Nanyet. They helped me begin this venture, so I saw no harm in letting them satiate their curiosity." "It is a pleasure to meet one of the greatest of our dear city, regardless of their explosive personality." "I see. Before you force me to give you a tour, there is something I would like to address." "Yes?" "I was hard at work when I received a call from Adam." "The young man who lives in your home, yes? I remember him." "Yes, I took the boy in since he had some trouble. Regardless, he told me something very interesting. He informed me about your apparition on TV following this Nightsnatcher business." "Oh?" "What gave you the bright idea to announce we were opening in two weeks? Preparations aren''t finished yet." "You told me you''d be ready before the end of the week, I trust a man of your talent to uphold this promise. It leaves us close to a dozen days to produce enough to cover the opening week and finish the last few details." "I think you are mistaking boldness and idiocy. I won''t fail, but the same isn''t as certain for the rest of your employees. I have yet to meet your future shopkeepers, for instance. Unless, perhaps, you plan on having one of your mindless guards try their hand at this highly personable profession. What of accounting? Of Marketing? Customer service?" "I know who will run the Penumbral Palace in my absence. They will arrive as soon as their work elsewhere is done." Blake interjected in the dialogue, stepping forward with a smile on his face. "Your intermediaries in the slums, right? I can''t deny Larry and Barry have done a good job so far. Not only that, they''re loyal. However, I ask you to reconsider. While they have proven capable on their home field, I fear they are too disconnected from this more civilized place. Might I recommend someone else I have in mind instead?" James scoffed. He might be green on this topic, but he wasn''t an idiot. "No. I trust them, I do not trust whoever you might want me to hire instead. I won''t deny they might struggle at first, but I do not doubt after a period of adaptation they will prove their worth." Even if whoever Blake sent played nice, they would still be loyal to the banker before James. This would be the perfect opportunity to grow his influence over James'' projects. The fact the Penumbral Palace technically belonged to the bank was already giving them more power than he felt comfortable with. Sure, he signed a contract that essentially made the place his until he left eased those worries, but that was still a huge favor. They were allies for now and he''d do his best to trust them a little more, but he would rather give the man trained by the fae more ammunition for his strange equivalent exchange powers. "Alright, I see your point. What about a tutelage, then? I lend you Nanyet to monitor and teach them for some time." That already sounded much better. Nanyet was likely a powerhouse given everything surrounding them, but they also proved to be rather passive and obedient. Their abysmal charisma outside of customer service wouldn''t let them influence the employees, and if they chose to resort to violence for one reason or another... Well, James had killed a very similar demon when he was less experienced. If worst came to worst, he''d try and repeat the feat. "Can you truly afford to let them go for any period of time?" "What Master Blake meant to say is for me to form an instance to assist you." "An instance?" He could remember something like that being mentioned in his presence before, but they had never clarified what they meant. He had a guess, but no certainty. "A copy, if you will, but one still connected to my singular consciousness." The phrase lit a bulb in James'' mind. In practice, he had successfully multiplied himself in some ways. It wasn''t truly cloning like what the celestial seemed to imply, rather just James shapeshifting himself multiple selves from a single root like some demented eldritch tree. Solvent seemed closer since they were truly separate, but the fact the infused slime and James had two distinct minds meant it still wasn''t perfect. But could he theoretically combine the two? So far whenever part of him was separated it simply mindlessly tried to rejoin his main mass where his consciousness was located. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Could he change that? If he managed to successfully split himself into more than one body all sharing a single mind... Well, he wouldn''t be struggling to be everywhere at once like he was now. He already had instructed Mischief to look for potential wild slimes to collect for him to infuse and repeat Solvent''s success for the same purpose, but being able to do it himself would be a game changer. "A perfect way to multitask. I suppose it explains how Blake can afford to be so carefree." "Yes, Master Blake does rely on this ability to lighten his already nigh nonexistent workload." "Hey!" James chuckled, and though it seemed Nanyet was heavily emotionally stunted compared to a human, he had a feeling the celestial was amused too. Maybe because he too was featureless outside of what he shaped his silhouette to be, but he felt like it was getting easier to discern what the blank doll-like otherworldly entity thought. "Yes, that does appeal more to me. What about you, doctor?" "Do as you wish so long as it doesn''t interfere with my work." "Understood. On that topic, would you have any requests?" "It depends. Testing is going well so far, we''re at about fifteen hours of uninterrupted activity with no hiccups to report. This isn''t demonstrative of what long-term use will be like, but it shows we''re ready for test number two, the actual production of items. For that phase, I''m going to need the necessary materials, and so far, I have yet to see a string of spider silk." "The Shadow Den sent me a message earlier, everything is going well. Mischief will bring us the first few spools before dusk." The robot grunted, seeing that as the end of this part of the conversation. Blake, on the other hand, was very interested. "Spider silk, you say? I assume this has to do with those reinforced vestments you mentioned." "Yes. I had the idea to take advantage of the size and placid nature of the arachnids in the sewers to turn them into cattle. Spider silk is a wonderful material, but very difficult to produce in large quantities with mundane animals given their size and tendency to eat one another." "Yes, yes. Most major spider silk producers similarly use larger insects-" "Master Blake-" "Eight legs, I know, hush. But yes, giant spiders are the norm in the industry, though usually they benefit from a much more glamorous pedigree. You should consider selling untransformed spools alongside whatever you make from them. A product roughly equal in quality to what big companies available at a much lower price can grow popular quite fast." "I''ll keep this in mind. On this matter, I''ll admit I may need your advice when it comes to pricing. I am local to the area, and while my employees in the slums were able to advise me there, the same isn''t true here." The Draskian raised one of his prominent eyebrows. "You could have asked me." "Do tell, doctor: are you familiar with the current rate of any of the items we plan on selling?" The indignant curiosity on the robot''s face turned into a frown. "Do not misunderstand, doctor. Your input is highly valued, and I am always grateful for your presence. It simply is the truth that it isn''t always relevant. You wouldn''t appreciate my opinion on matters of enginery, for instance." The scientist crossed his arms and grumbled as he looked away, though he didn''t argue further. The banker watched the interaction with a shine in his eyes. "Oh, how fun. Who would have thought all it would take to reign one of the infamous Ivans was basic respect." "Ivans? Plural? I''m afraid I''m quite confused." The Draskian rolled his eyes before stepping in. "My father created me and my siblings as an experiment. He wished to study what could breathe true life into machines. He created a hundred rudimentary bodies, the Ivan line, perfect copies of one another, and programmed them with minor variations to see which ones would successfully awaken with a soul." "Let me guess: all of them." "Yes. He expected only half a dozen, perhaps a full one if he were in luck, and instead, he found himself with a regiment. Wholly unprepared, you can understand why he struggled quite a bit in our early days. Going from zero to a hundred children in the span of the night is something very few could be ready for. Not all of my siblings understand this. There are some whose feelings I understand, others..." Adopting only five ratlings had already drastically changed James'' life, he dreaded to imagine what ninety-five more would do. He loved with all of his non-existent heart, but multiplying the charge by nineteen would kill him. "My father''s charge was not made easier by his problems with the law. He had to resort to dubious means to gather everything he needed to construct us. By the time he was arrested, most of the others were already gone, either in a search for independence or to try and weasel out of possible consequences that might have befallen them." "How is he now?" "Still jailed, though he is doing well. I and some of my other siblings visit regularly." "I hope things turn out better soon." "They likely won''t, but thank you anyway." "What about your siblings?" "We each live our own life. Well, mostly. Some stick together in small groups, such as how Centurion is Prime''s little bootlicker. Some of us stay in contact. Some more than others." Blake cleared his throat. Decanov answered with a deadly stare before continuing. "Since father never expected so many of us to activate, he didn''t prepare names. We were all parts of the Ivan line, so we''re all Ivans. Each of us found a way to personalize our name to make it easier to distinguish for those outside the family. Some changed their name altogether, others slightly altered it, some took on nicknames, a handful decided they didn''t like being masculine, and the rest like myself chose to keep our first name and instead design a last name. I think we all incorporated our serial number in some way." "Prime was the first and Centurion the last. So Decanov..." "A way for me to embrace my Draskian heritage while also displaying I was the nineteenth. An elegant choice, to be sure." "Of course, of course." The relatively normal human chimed in once more. "What the good doctor failed to mention is the reputation his siblings have accrued. As a group, they are known to be quite the troublemakers. His tendency to leave explosions behind after being fired is not the worst thing his family is known for. Prime especially is officially considered a Villain, though a minor one. It''s quite amusing to watch a Hero''s or police officer''s grimace when they learn an Ivan is involved in any situation." "The crows told you so?" "In a way, but I also had the pleasure of watching the spectacle myself." The richest man in the room chuckled once more, and James could swear he could distinguish something akin to exasperation emanating from Nanyet. It was much easier to see on the doctor''s face, who made no effort to hide how utterly done he was with Blake. Considering this, James took it upon himself to get them back on track. "While the anecdote is appreciated, let us continue. Aside from the silk, is there anything else you need?" "When our guests are gone, I''ll need you for some tests. Our final touch still needs some fine-tuning you''ll need to oversee." James nodded. He appreciated the doctor''s relative discretion. He had no doubt the two invitees were intelligent enough to guess what their little secret project was. The automation of the transformation process would save a lot of time. It''d also spare James from needing to travel back to the slums regularly to infuse what Techlord made for the shop. Speaking of, he should get to devising a plan to ease transport between it and the Penumbral Palace. With the miracle of automation at hand, he could stop wasting Techlord''s time on mass-producing goods. He couldn''t wait to tell the teen genius he would be getting less work for once. Chapter 162 : Manufactured darkness Decanov and James stood in silence for a moment after their distinguished guests left. Ultimately, it was the scientist who spoke first and ended the quietude. "Do you think-" "They''ll try and listen in? I am unsure. They have the means and a reason to, but they have also proven trustworthy. So far." "You trust them?" "Not fully, but enough to allow them on this tour. At this point, I''m inclined to believe that they won''t betray us. They''ll likely try to influence and control us indirectly, but I''d rather deal with that than another open conflict." "They might spy on us to have additional material to use, or they might purposefully let us keep our privacy to give us an illusion of power and ease our worries. That''s your reasoning, right?" "Correct. Though, given their resources, any means of spying available to them will be nigh impossible for us to detect." "Magically, perhaps. They haven''t seen our security system." "Indeed. The need for a permanent magical expert on our team grows daily." "What of that demonist?" "Mesker is an ally, undeniably, but he cares too much about his independence to give it up. I''m afraid he''ll have to stay a consultant for now." "A shame. He seemed competent enough." A few seconds passed as the two men kept on staring at the door. "I just got confirmation from the Infused that they left the street." "Good. Should we go on then?" "Lead the way, Doctor. This is your kingdom, after all." The robot''s lab coat whipped the air as he turned dramatically, a content grunt leaving his mouth. James held back a chuckle as he slid after him. "When first designing this new factory, the matter of transformation was a core topic. There were two main possibilities available: have a single machine solely do the transformation or include it in every individual production chain. While the first one requires only some additional isolated machinery, the other necessitates implementations in every other device." "When you put it this way, I understand your remark on it being at the core of the factory." "Those two different design philosophies each have their pros and cons. Restricting it to a single specialized piece of equipment would make it to keep the secret from untrusted visitors like just now and would allow us to be more trusting when it comes to the management of the rest of the machinery. If upgrades or maintenance needs to be done, it would be much easier if regular employees could do it, not just your mindless guards or myself." "Yes, but it also gives us a glaring weak point." "Yes. Restricting infusion to a single device, no matter how large and efficient, drastically shrinks the number of completed items we can produce. It also means if any problem happens, the entire facility is frozen. There''s the risk of sabotage and theft. While a single more heavily guarded machine lessens the chances of corporate espionage, it makes what can be stolen or copied that much more important and easy for them to replicate. It''s easier to build a new plagiarized machine than to alter their existing ones to accommodate a brand new system." "What of the alternative?" "It''s more efficient and less cumbersome, not to mention we have none of those dependency problems a singular device brings. It also means you can''t hide the truth from employees as easily and that spies can learn a lot more from peeking at just one machine. And to reiterate, you''d need engineers in the know to handle maintenance." "Since everything is already ready to work, I suppose you made your choice. I''m surprised you didn''t bring it up to me." The Draskian scoffed. "You said you trusted me with making this place work, it''s what I did." "I wasn''t being accusatory, doctor. While I would have appreciated you approaching me considering this conundrum from the start, ultimately I do trust you to make the right choice. You know better than me when it comes to this field." The annoyed look that had begun to form on the robot''s face faded away, though the scientist''s neutral expression still looked quite stern and unamused. "To answer your question, I chose to go wide. I know your worries, but I found the good outweighed the bad in this situation. If you want to turn a profit, you need to stop restricting yourself. Having industrial means is useless if you''re unwilling to use them efficiently and limit yourself to the level of a teen tinkerer selling gizmos from their garage. Not to mention, selling transformed items alone will give away that something special is happening, you won''t be able to hide it for long." The robot stopped next to a specific conveyor belt, the machine still operating like the rest as the doctor never stopped his testing for the tour. With a pull of a lever and the press of a button, the system paused before restarting, this time with various components appearing at every step. Over a few minutes, James watched as pieces of various materials were bent and assembled, occasionally fused by the passage of a small dark laser emanating from crystals attached to minuscule arms that had stayed hidden earlier. When all was said and done, a brand new electrogun rolled toward them before being blasted one last time by a crystal larger than the rest, giving the small weapon its perfect black luster right as it stopped before them. The Draskian picked it up and tested holding it in various ways, testing both its balance and durability before firing it at a small canister set up on a crate further away, likely placed specifically for this purpose knowing the robot. The small piece of junk bolted into the air before falling back down, lightly charred where it was hit but otherwise not overly damaged. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. "And here we have it. I still have to finish adjusting the input, it''s within legal margins but still a little too powerful for my liking. Otherwise, everything else is working satisfactorily so far. The main question now is whether or not this item still feels like it''s connected to you, something I cannot verify myself." James nodded as he began to focus on what he called his soul space. The white void he reached when meditating where the various connections between him and infused items were made physical by black threads had changed quite a bit since his first ventures. The core of this spiritual place made of those threads had now grown in both size and density, to the point there were no more holes in its composition. James'' avatar in this realm, a figure quite similar to Silhouette attached to the core by his tail like a genie and its lamp, had grown more real too, though that was less of a visual change and more so a feeling. The center of this universe wasn''t the star of the show, though. James''s perception did a quick sweep to verify that yes, among those points from which dark strings formed and those sutured scars that had been left behind by the demon Sydakors was a new item. One that stood out from the rest now that he studied closer. Though it was wholly unnecessary, James'' avatar closed in on the newcomer to better ascertain what made it different from the rest. Whereas every other item was a singular origin from which a single thread formed, the electrogun Decanov fractured was instead a conglomerate. Multiple anchors close to one another weaved a tangled web that roughly funneled together into a single link, though even this part was deviant. Rather than reach for the core, this one made a detour, not unlike the threads James had twisted to fix the wounds caused by the demon. The link went to meet another strange sight. Where the electrogun was a chaotic tangled web, this was a tapestry. Multiple anchors worked together to form a constellation of sorts, one that attracted the mess of the electrogun and wove it into a more refined thread that was then released toward the heart. James pulled at the strings. The constellation''s work was stellar, but the rest was different. They were weaker than those formed by his direct transformations. Well, at a glance. They were weaker individually, yes, but the way the tapestry of the machine''s spiritual echo arranged them restored them to a proper state, one singular thread just as strong as those he made himself. What made the situation curious was that he had never seen such a result from transformations via proxies. Anything that had been blasted by powered-up electroguns for instance or even the Techzooka felt just the same as if James had done the deed himself, so what was it that made Decanov''s creation different? Was it how the transformation was done in small steps rather than a single large change? Was it how there technically were multiple sources rather than a single one? "It''s odd. I can feel the connection, but it is... Different. The machine became a spiritual construct of sorts, one that fixes the problems with its creations'' threads before connecting them to me." "And is that a good or a bad thing?" "I am unsure. In a way, it is an additional layer of security between me and our customers, I suppose, but it is also a weakness others could take advantage of somehow. Weapons never made such a thing before." "Could you elaborate on that last point?" "When making use of their full potential, what they do feels no different than my own corruptive bolts." "Interesting... You''ll have to forgive the growing pains on that topic, Transformation is possibly the rarest Aspect to work with and despite my interest, I never had the chance to study it before now." "I trust you to know best, Doctor. It doesn''t help that you cannot sense what I do." "Before the funny idea of using this stuff on me makes its way into your mind, know the answer is no." "I would never use it on an unwilling employee. In fact, I only ever used it on people trying to kill me or consenting rats." And George Froko, that scammer, but the infusion was only small enough to make a marking, not a complete of who the man was. "Well, now you know. On that note, you should consider expanding this list." "What do you mean?" "Don''t play coy. Just take a stroll through the slums and you''ll have an army begging you to improve them. I do not usually encourage human testing, but you''ve proven moral enough to warrant the practice on willing subjects." "I''m afraid I must disagree. It would bring a lot of attention, for one, and it would also-" "Cut the excuses. There''s already plenty of attention on you. Besides, I never said you should make an army to take over the world or whatever nonsense you came up with. If anything, see it as a PR move: gather the downtrodden and the meek and give them a new chance at life. Your head rat, Polisson, grew an elemental arm to replace his missing limb. You could offer a similar service. Have you figured out a way to only partially transform?" "Yes, but-" "Then do that! Transform them enough to heal their broken bodies and no more. It could be a service of its own, an alternative to prosthetics courtesy of the Penumbral Palace. Offer the possibility to go through the procedure for free in exchange for a contract to become a loyal employee for those who have nothing. And voil¨¤! An easy recruitment drive the public will approve of." "Once they get over the Transformation part of it." "You can always cover it for the masses. Somewhat. Say it''s experimental, say it is highly dangerous and a life-altering decision. The truly dangerous people will know of this part of your portfolio either way soon enough given your rampant tendency to soak whatever place you deem a base in shadows. Truth be told, even civilians would be accepting of it if presented with the right light." "You seem awfully confident for a man despised by most in his field." "Yet they kept on hiring me anyway. And, loathe as I am to acknowledge them, I know I have my fans. Do consider my words, Silhouette. The more you involve yourself in the city, the more its people grow to like you, and the more you become part of its mythology, the harder it is to unroot you." "I expect this sort of speech from Black, not from you." "I may be rephrasing something similar that Adam told me in the past. Now that I am here, I cannot deny there is some wisdom in his young soul." The way the Draskian looked away, James could tell he wasn''t exactly proud to admit his moment of weakness. Such a prideful man acting so bashfully was amusing, for sure, but it was his words that James focused on for now. He had vowed to himself to be a little more daring when Blake appeared, did he not? And what the scientist proposed wasn''t so bad. It did remind him of the questionable experiments that used humans as research subjects. While some were simply normal people accepting experimental procedures, there were also a lot of homeless or needy folks being roped in to test new medications. He understood why those people did it as well as why it was necessary in the first place, you had to test medical stuff on living people sooner or later, but it was still somewhat morally dubious. At least nowadays most participants were aware and consenting, something that wasn''t always the case in the not-so-distant past. Well, in his case it wouldn''t truly be testing, at least not usually. He knew how this part of his powers worked. It''d just be an excuse to help folks and recruit them while making himself look better. Yeah, he could work with that. It''d still feel off, but better than the whole child spy thing Guy had going on that James was now technically in charge of. Thinking about it, he probably should have taken advantage of Blake''s presence to broach the topic. "Fine. I''ll see about refining some details with Blake and Mesker tomorrow and I''ll get back to you on that, alright?" "I appreciate your acceptance to improve your forces. While I greatly appreciate the silent compliance of the Infused, there is a risk they scare off customers. Keeping the brainwashed militia away from the people''s view goes a long way for public image." James nodded as he began to move away. "Your wisdom is appreciated. If you''ll excuse me, I have other important matters to attend." The mechanical grunted before his eyes returned to the black weapon his work had made. He had a system to upgrade. Chapter 163 : Zalcian rats Arms crossed, James tapped his fingers nervously. It had been a handful of hours now since he''d brought his little family to the city hall for the kids'' test to obtain citizenship. He and the ratlings had been separated almost immediately to be interviewed individually. While his meeting had been rather short, he had yet to see a hair of the children in the waiting room he had been brought to since he was left here. He tried his best not to worry too much. Marry did tell him this situation was likely to arise, after all. It only made sense, everything related to children grew complicated quickly, but still. He had to restrain himself to only be tapping with his fingers. Had he been alone, he would just be using his foot instead, uncaring of the noise it would make. Sadly for his nerves, others were waiting as well. He didn''t know if all present in the room were here for something similar, but he had an inkling multiple services shared this same space to have people wait. While some of the folks around seemed as tense as him or even worse, some seemed perfectly calm or bored. Still, there was a noteworthy tendency for non-human physiologies around. Seated to James'' right was an elderly orc woman reading a magazine, her thin glasses and spotted dress contrasting drastically with her wider-than-tall figure. She alone had to be taking up at least three or four seats, something the designer of the place likely foresaw with how rather than cheap plastic chairs it was equipped with sturdy benches. To his left James found a kindred soul. At least he thought so. While he liked to think he''d gotten better at guessing what faceless people felt, it was difficult to apply that to an orb of energy. The sparkling sphere floated as a head above a stone and metal body, a thin puppet-like thing occasionally lit up by a bolt of stray electricity normally coursing through its insides. Well, that was his assumption of its composition given the small fractures that appeared here and there and the large opening where the creature''s neck should have been. While he couldn''t be fully certain this wasn''t just a quirk of its body, the way its head crackled sparks intensely like it was about to blow up led him to think it was just as nervous as he was. He thought about starting a conversation before quickly giving up on the idea. He had no idea if they liked strangers approaching them in the first place, the tense situation would only make things even worse. The non-organic person took the choice out of his hands by addressing him. Their voice was light with a crackling undercurrent that made him buzz. "Have you been here for long?" "A little over two hours I think." They sighed sparks as they put their glowing head into their hands. "Argh, I can''t wait so long! I''m gonna burst..." James nodded. "I feel you. What are you here for?" "I want to start something for newly born elementals in the city. A place for them to increase their chances of attaining sapience. And you?" "I''m here to prove my rat kids are people and earn the right to adopt them." "Oh, I hope everything goes well for you." "Same to you. I don''t know much about elementals, but I''m guessing without proper support they don''t develop, right?" The electricity that had been wild so far calmed down as it focused on James and began to answer. "Something like that. We start with little to no intelligence, closer to plankton and jellyfish than anything else. Then, from that point on, we grow and change to adapt to our environment. Some stay mindless but grow powerful bodies, others turn into beasts, and lastly, a few like myself become people under the right circumstances." "And you wish to create a place where these circumstances are guaranteed." "Yes. It usually takes decades if not centuries for us to become self-aware, and in the modern age, this doesn''t work anymore. The regulations in place consider each category of elemental as though they were entirely different species. It is perfectly legal to have an animalistic or mindless one of us as a pet, despite the fact they have the potential to grow to personhood." "To be fair, you could say the same of mundane animals too. I have experienced it." "Yes, but the difference is the likelihood. Animals growing sapient is fully random, but for us, it is part of our natural evolution. Not only that, but the fact they are being kept as pets drastically lowers the chances they will reach higher levels of intelligence. There is no need to adapt in a cushy and lazy life spent being cared for." James nodded. "When you put it this way, I get it." The elemental sighed once more. "I know it''s pointless to try and change the laws surrounding us by my lonesome, so the next best thing is ensuring at least some more will become people." "But if you''re so nervous, it can''t be as easy as adopting a bunch as pets and then raising them." If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. "The mass breeding of sapient lifeforms is forbidden. There are also all the ramifications of turning what they consider a mindless animal into a person. I don''t want to become the parent of thousands, even becoming a tutor to so many would be an administrative nightmare." "Thousands?" "In the long term. I plan on working with ''classes'' of a dozen or two individuals at a time, at least at first." "So, you''re here looking for permits, derogations, and official aids of some sort." "Yes. Something to help take care of fully raised elementals, for instance." Thinking back to Decanov''s story about his family, James could see why. "I''m no expert, but maybe they could use the same system they have for robots? A friend of mine told me about it." The elemental nodded as they twindled their thumbs. "Yes, something like that could work. It couldn''t be exactly the same, but it''d be a good enough foundation. I just hope they see how important this is." James let out a small sound to voice his support without words because frankly, he couldn''t see what else he could say to reassure. Though Terra Stellis was a world that featured a lot more intelligent creatures than Earth and Zalcien proved itself greatly accepting, there was still a trend he was noticing. Mutants and grotesque figures were a lot more common back in the slums, folks in the city were varied but still often very human-looking. Humanoid animals were common too, sure, but that was it. There had been no one quite as bizarre as Maltodextrin the psychic alien squid. The same went for Medraw, he had yet to see another person with such prominent bug features outside of the slums. Decanov''s rants came to mind as well. Oh, he didn''t doubt the man''s temper and attitude had something to do with how often he was fired, but still. It couldn''t be denied the mechanical scientist was mistreated much more often than other fleshier colleagues in his field. Sure, the engineer had the nasty habit of purposefully designing his inventions to explode if a singular minuscule flaw wasn''t fixed at the last moment, but James'' time on this world''s internet had revealed scientists with worse habits still getting work. He still had some shivers about that one elf who took out her sadistic tendencies on test subjects up until the police forced her employer to close down that specific branch of testing. She still had work over at Xenocorp. This waiting room didn''t help matters regarding this train of thought. There were no humans, no elves, no dwarves. People here all had something strange going on. Sure, maybe he was just being paranoid, the elemental and he were both here for matters related to the sapience of entities who weren''t guaranteed to have it after all. Still, he couldn''t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things weren''t as nice in the civilized parts of the city as he hoped. No, he had to push away those worries. That exterminator had been polite even after finding out his kids were rats. Maybe there were a few bad apples, but Zalcien as a whole had treated him... Well, he couldn''t quite say well, but at least good enough. "Oh! How rude of me, here I am droning on and on and I haven''t even asked your name!" "Oh, I''m James, James Valdest. And you?" "Magne Magnolia. Sorry again for waiting until now." "No, no, don''t worry. I didn''t ask you either." The two sat there in silence for a moment, awkwardly waiting. At last a city hall employee arrived, someone in surprisingly mundane clothing for a person working in as fancy a building as the place was on the outside, a simple name tag indicating their identity. The simplicity cut a clear contrast with the architecture that felt closer to an oligarch''s mad overfunded project with too many curves and angles than an administrative building. The middle-aged ginger man briefly looked down at the tablet in his hand before addressing them, though his gaze was solely locked on James. "Mister Valdest? If you would follow me, please." James nodded as he got up, giving his elemental interlocutor a final parting wave as the public worker guided him to his next destination, an isolated office with dark red walls where the kids were waiting for him alongside a woman with olive skin. He recalled her being the one taking Goliath away when they were separated, and now it looked like she''d be the one finishing their case. As soon as James stepped inside his guide left, closing the door behind him. "Mister Valdest, please take a seat." He did exactly that. "After interviewing your son and comparing notes with my colleagues who handled you and his siblings, I think I have learned to make a few decisions. To begin with, I hereby officially declare that all five of them passed the sapient test and shall hereby be considered people. As this and their core formative period occurred here, they are also hereby granted citizenship." James let out a sigh and slouched back a little in his cheap chair, a fair part of his stress melting away at those words. "Thank you, miss." "I''m only doing my job. Though I must say, you have raised one delightful son." The largest of the ratlings beamed at the praise from his cushion, one having been provided to each member of the litter. "Oh, thank you. And..." The fact she had used the term son gave him hope, and thankfully she confirmed it. "Yes, so far, I see no reason to separate them from you. Your interview showed no issue on your part. We''ll have an agent examine your living space and pass by your workplace, but if all goes as expected then no issue should arise." "Oh, thank you. I don''t suppose you could tell me when?" "No. Unexpectedness is part of the success of the operation. But again, if you are exactly as you presented yourself, then there should be no problem." She spared a glance at the furry siblings as they silently cheered. Even David and Lucille sported little smiles on their snouts, though both quickly dropped them when they met the other''s gaze, crossing their arms to appear unphased. "You seem to have formed quite the happy little family already. I have no doubt you all have a bright future ahead of you." "You''re too kind." "Perhaps. But in this line of work, I think it doesn''t hurt. While your circumstances are far more than satisfactory, it''s not always the case. I think you can''t see the world the same way once you''ve had to separate crying children from their non-sapient mother or explain to an ascended animal parent that the chances of their offspring born before their ascension following their path are slim." She let out a sigh as she looked off to the side before focusing back on the present. "Back to the matter at hand. Considering your given location and your children''s needs, I''ve prepared something for them to enroll in what I believe is the best school for your situation." She reached for a thick folder at the corner of her desk before sliding it to James. "I recommend giving it a thorough read. If you have any questions when you''re done, don''t hesitate to ask them through our website." She rose from her seat, prompting James to do the same as he picked up the heavy bundle of paper. The kids noticed it and scurried away from their cushions, gathering at their father''s feet. "I really can''t thank you enough for everything you''ve done." She answered with a warm smile. "It''s my pleasure." James'' problems were getting solved one after another. Chapter 164 : Demonologists advice James ducked below the fireball that flew right at his face. "You know, this isn''t exactly how I pictured these magic lessons." Mesker Duskenfer the Third, great pyromancer and demonologist, merely shrugged as another volley of burning projectiles launched, forcing James to melt and spread and shift his form to avoid them. "First lesson when it comes to magic, don''t get hit by it. You''d be surprised how many people fail that step." This time a column of flame rose from the darkened ground of the Sunken City, illuminating the small square the two men had turned into their training ground. The blazing pillar drew in powerful winds, forcing James to fight against the suction while still evading the firey projectiles thrown his way. That wasn''t to say all he could was run. Black orbs rose from the surrounding shadows and snaked their way toward the wizard, zigzagging around the flaming defenses he had cast. The old man responded with a wave of golden fire that turned the dark attacks to nothing. "I see you''ve improved your multitasking. Good." The pyromancer went on to tap the bottom of his golden staff on the ground, bringing forth a bear of smoke and embers. Despite its threatening red claws, the ursine creature was dispelled by a single Shadow Ball, much like it had when Mesker had first shown it off to James when he trained him on how to fight Runar. Well, James had been fighting using Solvent''s body, but the result was the same. "And you remembered my Sylversfire. Good." Another tap and this time more forest critters of all kinds formed, their purple eyes glowing ominously and with much more power than their previous iteration. James answered in kind, shifting his body to form giant black snakes that constricted the elemental-like summons into puffing out of existence in seconds. He might have been playing nice when using them against the ratlings in training, but now, the gloves were off. "Pardon me Mesker, but I was hoping for proper lessons, not combat." A dark mist rose from Mesker''s feet, a thin tendril having sneaked its way to the mage who had purposefully placed his flames to avoid forming a shadow. When the mage jumped back it was just in time to avoid the swing of the blade of an ephemeral dark knight. The extension of James'' will raised its shield to block a fireball before stepping forward, slashing its sword wildly at the retreating demonologist. "Ah, but combat is a great teacher. Not the greatest, mind you, but still. For instance, I see you learned quite a bit from Runar." This time the flames that came after the knight were golden. Instead of impacting the shield, they collided against a barrier emanating from it. The mage hummed at the sight before adding purple fire into the mix, this time the inferno overwhelming the protection. James had predicted this and had diverged as much of this part of his mass away as he could, leaving only the shield and a thin tentacle behind to be burned away. That''s not to say the mist was gone. The black smog had moved along with the mage, chasing him as more knights emerged only to be struck down, each armored shadow getting a little closer at every attempt. Finally came the swing of a blade Mesker couldn''t avoid and had to block with his staff before disappearing into a burst of flames, reappearing further away. Free from the encroaching darkness, he was free to invoke once more. Light and heat spread throughout the area as more and more fires formed, a forest of scorching columns surrounding the man. "This didn''t seem quite like a normal magical shield. Why, if I didn''t know better, I''d say it was a runic barrier." James had the humanoid part of his body mimic a shrug with its pointy armless shoulders while his immaterial mass continued to spread, slithering between the flames and fighting off incoming projectiles with his own. "A little something I came up with when facing the man. I may not be an expert in runes, but the book you lent me taught me quite a bit. When fighting I had to recycle some of his weaponry to counter his abilities. Essentially repairing a Runebreaker on the fly gave me an idea I wasn''t free to explore at the time but proved itself quite useful at the instant. It''s remarkable what shapeshifting can do, no?" The demonologist grunted as he flicked his wrist, instructing his so far immobile blazing pillars to begin revolving around him, cutting off large swathes of James right as he was about to reach him. He had predicted the move, however, and quickly a gaseous part of him swept across the fire forest, reconnecting the lost parts and transforming them into masses of claws and fangs that rose high to crush the mage beneath them. It was easy for the pyromancer to turn them to ashes, but it was exactly the plan. As infernal forces burned away at his expanded body, buried beneath the dangerous and eye-catching parts, runes formed from solidified parts of himself aligned to form a ritual. Translucent yet dark shackles came from the ether to ensnare the old man, infinite lengths that kept on pouring into reality no matter how many times the wizard burned them. With a quick shift new runes were formed and created a new circle, this one summoning forth gravity-defying tar that squelched its way out of the way and into the air, bubbling and pulsing to take on a rough draconic form, the fake reptilian terror roaring a cacophonous storm with its wings raised before swooping down at the old human man, strands of its viscous body connecting its jaws even as it opened them wide to bite. Fire erupted and began to crawl over its frame yet somehow failed to consume the beast. Right as it was about to crush Mesker he burst into flames once more, reappearing at a safe distance with a quick wall of fire raised in seconds to protect him from whatever the runic ritual would do next. The dragon crashed against the ground and popped, its burning spots drawing arcs in the air while the vast majority of its body appeared to boil. When the tar took form once again, it was no mere creature standing there. It was Silhouette. "Taking advantage of your physiology to use runes on the spot is a good strategy. Not fully original, mind you, there are quite a few orders that make use of Living Ink tattoos for the same purpose, but still undeniably effective. Though, while I recognize a binding enchantment, that construct seemed a little complex for what I lent you." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! "I admit, it was more innate power than spellwork." The original ritual only summoned some sort of slime. Tainted by James'' natural darkness affinity, it turned into this tar-like matter with no mind, only a sort of instinctual drive to envelop whatever it was touching. Its lack of life was actually capital to the next step James had come up with: experimentation had shown that what composed his body was extremely malleable, in the sense that he could incorporate surrounding shadows into his form with no issue. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to realize that many of his shapeshifting tricks used more mass than he should be composed of, even when altering his density. He''d struggled to form a skittering body when he first appeared in this world, and yet here he was, keeping his Silhouette body out while at the same spreading like a plague and summoning knights like finger puppets. This increased mass didn''t just vanish when he was done using it after all. It stayed with him. At this point, both his Silhouette and civilian forms were like icebergs, with the visible physical part only being a small part of a far larger whole, hidden in his shadow. He was very thankful this transmuted part of himself weighed nothing. He wasn''t a fitness nut, but getting heavier by at the very least a factor of ten would still trouble him. It''d be very humiliating to break through a weak floor in the middle of a discussion, after all. The tar dragon was thus simple when broken down. James summoned the material, touched it, and turned it into a part of himself before sculpting it into a more threatening shape. That wasn''t to say it was all just for show, otherwise, James would just use himself to do all this rather than a runic ritual. The conjured tar was, for lack of a better word to his limited knowledge, magically charged and reinforced. It was stronger than James'' natural mass, but it also had its faults, such as being highly flammable. Why then did it resist Mesker''s attack? The answer was simple. "You merged yourself with summoned material to combine your strengths and mitigate your respective flaws. Clever. Prone to disaster when faced with an opponent capable of dismissing or banishing magical creations such as this, but clever nonetheless." "I had an inkling it could be undone in such a way. The merge isn''t complete, it is still isolated from the rest of myself. At worst, I''ll lose only a small part of me that would have been destroyed by a spell anyway." "Good. Empowering yourself using magic is one thing, but empowering magic using yourself or completely becoming one with it is another. At the end of the day we are still but mortals, and thinking otherwise is foolish. There is a reason most originally human undead don''t last longer than a century or two before losing their mind. We simply weren''t meant to. Inversely, what many consider to be greater entities would be rendered insane by experiencing human life. There''s a reason it''s a common punishment for gods and their likes." "I will keep this in mind. By the way, should this signify the end of this little bout? I would like to remind you that I''m here in search of advice for my spellcasting, not its usage in battle. Not yet, at least." The pyromancer chuckled. "No, not quite." The revolving pillars of flame accelerated and their movements grew more complex than simply drawing an orbit around the mage, some forming waves, others turning in the opposite direction the others did, and a few more clearly displaying some targeting ability by positioning themselves to surround the visible part of James. James held back the urge to groan. He twisted his body, transforming into a black fog that rolled over the landscape, his gaseous form dexterously parting and merging to slip by the burning obstacles. More forest critters of hot ashes and smoke appeared only to be struck down by disembodied jaws that turned back to shadows before they could be struck. A rising wave of liquid darkness began to grow, and though smaller than the blazing columns it still soon stood taller than the surrounding abandoned buildings. Mesker flicked his wrist and sent forth fireballs and infernal spikes into the incoming abyssal tsunami only for his spells to be intercepted by splashes that separated themselves from the wave. The regular projectiles proving ineffective, the demonologist weaved together a more extreme spell with his black hands, his staff turning into embers around. Golden and purple flames danced together in an impossible sight, a fire that no natural circumstances could manifest, behaving not as a raging force but as cooperating serpents twisting together to form sigils. The spiraling knot of colors and heat unleashed itself in a powerful beam, burning away at the wave of shadows and pushing it back. The old mage however couldn''t hide the surprise on his face as the darkness began to fight back. Its top turned and began to snake its way around the beam as its body continued resisting. The man could feel the air grow cold and wet with every passing second and soon noticed the way black ice began to spread and crackle on the ground. At that point he separated his arms, splitting the beam into two new smaller ones that he aimed in opposite directions. The act cut the encroaching darkness. Its upper part collapsed onto the lower one, further falling apart until it became nothing more than a puddle on the floor. Silhouette quickly emerged from it, ink-like material dripping down the pointy shoulders. Noticing the lack of fire being thrown at his face, James had a feeling the spar was over. Mesker''s silently clapping figure reinforced that idea. "I can''t say that was very pleasant." "It''s not supposed to be. Especially given the fact you have some form of demonic ancestry." "I suppose that means that last trick relied on some sort of exorcism." "Correct. Those were the golden flames. The purple ones come from demonism. The combination proves quite effective against unwelcomed guests to our side of reality. More importantly, I see you brushed on elementalism. Good. Though I can''t help but notice a common flaw." "I can''t avoid incorporating darkness into it." "Well, that is a downside, but one you can get around with some clever planning. No, the main problem here is you still overly rely on your body. I understand your unique physiology is an advantage in many ways. However, shenanigans like that massive mass at the end are just making you a bigger target. Even with magical matter incorporated into your body, getting blown up isn''t good." "As you''ve said, it''s an advantage. I can do things I believe no one else can, and it has been my best chance at survival so far." "A vagrant raised in the slums may learn how to fight off the gruff, but against anyone with experience, they would lose. Yes, you have proven good enough to vanquish your enemies so far, but they were all rabid dogs. Runar was the most skilled opponent you faced, but he was a non-combatant." "What of Sydakors?" "Demons are a messy bunch. The majority rely on pure power alone, those that climb to the top have the brains and experience to match. The forgotten diplomat was stronger than average for a ''citizen'' if such a term could be used. But think back to that encounter: was it truly a battle, or did a much faster and deadly opponent play with you until it left an opening you took advantage of?" "You''re comparing me to it, aren''t you." "Can you rebut my point? You rely on your innate admittedly impressive abilities to overwhelm your enemies, but there''s no skill behind it. That tactic with the runes was good and elementalism does expand your portfolio of possible tricks, but you have yet to successfully combine those tricks into a more defined and dangerous fighting style." "Hence the fight." "I had to see how you manage your spellwork in a real situation. Now that I have seen your failings, I know what you need. More advanced spells would help, but it''d just be pouring water into a cracked vase. We''re going to rebuild your entire foundation. It won''t be done in a day, but when we''re through, you won''t just be flailing your tentacles anymore." It was hard to tell through the wrinkles, but James had a feeling there was the beginning of a smile on the old wizard''s face. Chapter 165 : A Heros advice Sarah ducked beneath the metal fist flying towards her face. The Hero trainee responded to Elaimant''s attack with a light-coated knee to the torso, the elementally charged attack pushing back the towering avatar of magnetically gathered scraps in the form of a humanoid body the crystalline alien used. From the crunching and screeching that echoed in the training room during the impact, the hit likely damaged some of those metal bits. The large four-armed snake in gladiatorial armor watching over them nodded its massive head. "Good. When facing larger and tougher opponents, always aim to evade rather than block attacks, and have your own keep them at bay while focusing on internal damage. You saw how effective it was now, just remember to apply it in real fights." The reptilian veteran Hero then turned to her alien comrade. "Thank you for your assistance, Elaimant. Are you fine?" The mineral pyramid that rotated in the iridescent bubble that served as their head bobbed up and down. "Affirmation: The damage inflicted on this body is no different than damage on your trident." The teacher hummed as one of their eyes briefly flicked to look at the weapon strapped on their scarred back. "Good. However, do try to pay attention to such matters. A damaged weapon is one likely to break, and a weapon breaking in the middle of the fight is a liability." "Rebuttal: This body is made to be disposable and easily altered, repaired, or replaced." "Yes, but even then you have to be careful. It may only take seconds, but those are seconds that could decide the course of a situation." Serpent picked up a buckler from their back and showed it to the two trainees. "This shield is meant to receive hits. It is its function. I do often exchange it for a fresh one after a mission where it is used to give it some time in maintenance. However, should I fail to keep track of its state or let it be more damaged than necessary while in the field, it may shatter unexpectedly when I attempt to block another blow. I do not necessarily mean attacks either. It can be used to shelter civilians from falling rubble for instance, and while I could survive mistakenly using faulty gear in this situation, the same couldn''t be said of them." The extraterrestrial buzzed for a few seconds. "Affirmation: Proper care will be given." The scaled lips of the Hero formed the closest approximation to a smile such a bestial face could make. "Good. Now, let''s swap places. Firefly, go other there and fire light at your comrade on my signal. Elaimant, your goal is to reach and touch her without being hit a single time." "I''m on it." "Observation: This seems unfeasible." "I make it a point to only give exercises I believe you can manage. Giving you too hard an objective is more likely to dishearten than encourage you, after all. Trust me, Elaimant. You can do this." The bulky figure seemed to hesitate. "How can you tell if it''s impossible if you don''t try?" It was hard to tell if the trainee had been convinced by these words given the lack of subconscious body language, but after a few moments, they began to play into the exercise. It took only a few seconds for a bolt of light to touch them, prompting them to return to their starting point with their shoulders hung low. Serpent stayed for the next few attempts that ended at a similar speed before slithering off, heading to another corner of the large white gymnasium in the Union Headquarters the small group stood in. When the Hero reached the next pair of trainees, they had to raise one of their clawed hands to catch the fist of Kopper Kid, the blindfolded young man reacting before he could think. When he realized he couldn''t move his hand after the meaty thud he used his free hand to remove the cloth blocking his view. Framed by his domino mask, his eyes immediately grew wide and sweat began to trickle down his dark brow when he realized who he was facing. "At ease, Kopper. While good reflexes are important and highly valued, how you use them is important. We wouldn''t want you to break a few ribs just because a civilian spooked you." "I-I''m sorry! I won''t-" "At ease, at ease. That''s why you''re here, to fail and learn." The reptilian humanoid stretched their neck, showing off the countless marks of past wounds and burns on their form. "We all make mistakes. The important part is learning from them." A third figure joined them, the beating of wings signaling the landing of one feathered young man. "Scareowl. From afar I noticed you still had trouble with ranged attacks." The bird clicked his beak in annoyance. "I''m sorry, sir. It just..." "I understand, trust me. It would be hypocritical of me to say that it''s easy to do. The difference between us however is that I have the bulk to support a mostly melee fighting style, whereas your mobility and fragility clash with it." "I know, sir." "What have you tried so far?" "I dabbled somewhat with throwing daggers, but those didn''t fit me. Not just because of the high degree of lethality, but also because they are much harder to aim when in the air." "Uhm, yes, I see how impractical that would be." "I then tried some magic, but once again, the focus required doesn''t mesh well with flying. When I do manage to cast without falling, I''m just a sitting duck for Kopper to shoot down." The young man scratched the back of his neck as he was mentioned, though he didn''t interfere in the conversation between the two animalistic people. "Yes, sacrificing your agility and speed isn''t worth it. Anything else?" "As of now, I''m trying a form of martial art." "Oh?" "When Madam Saline first commented on our issues, I asked a Legion to compile a small list of possible ways to overcome mine based on her suggestions. This technique allows the user to manipulate wind with their body." "Which would be both a way to attack at a distance and to improve your flight. Not to mention other applications like pushing back gas, destabilizing foes, or blowing flames. A lucky find. Given the look on your face, however, I can guess there are some issues." The avian nodded. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. "While channeling it through my wings does let me greater powerful gusts, it also ruins my balance. I need my wings to stay airborne in the first place, to suddenly stop beating them and instead do a more powerful movement for this technique just sends me flying." Kopper held back a chuckle, though neither of the two paid it any mind. "If that is your concern, then why use your wings?" Scareowl''s large eyes blinked a few times. "Pardon?" "Your technique. Use your legs instead." "My... Legs?" "Yes. If the martial art you''re referring to is similar to those I know, you could kick the air instead for the same effect. In fact, you could even use your talons to modify it and add a cutting edge to it all." The trainee tilted his head. "Are you sure this could work, sir?" The strange reptilian smile returned to the snake''s lips. "Of course. I know how difficult it can be to learn methods not quite meant for us. Most forms of combat heavily rely on footwork, for example." They slapped the end of their long muscle tail on the ground. "I had to adapt everything to suit my body. You just need to do the same." One of their four hands pointed at the suit the trainee wore. He looked rather ridiculous with how it compressed the feathers of his body up until the collar, contrasting his puffy head and making it look like he had been plucked. "Just like this suit clearly constricts and doesn''t fully suit you, the same goes for what you learn." Serpent, who had to be at least twice as tall and wide as Scareowl, then lowered their head to his conspiringly before whispering. "Don''t worry about the suit, you won''t have to put up with it for much longer. Try to start thinking about what you want." The Hero then rose back to their full height as they turned to address the other trainee. "What about you, Kopper?" The tall young man whose lanky frame didn''t match his remarkable strength tried his best to appear more confident than he truly was as he answered. It wasn''t convincing, but the veteran played along. "Eh, well, can''t really do much when I''m still waiting for Scareowl to figure out his stuff... Not that I mind! Wait, no, I mean- I understand why it''s taking you a while to figure out, but I can''t exactly train to handle fast enemies when my only opponent isn''t fully ready yet. He attacked a few times, but all his ranged stuff is, well... Bad. I only gotta act when he''s just diving down." "So, how did you handle those situations?" "Eh... Not great? He''s fast and can be super quiet. I can''t do much with my eyes closed, like you asked me to." The reptile spared a glance at the blindfold he was still holding, the piece of cloth hanging down next to the small pouch full of pebbles the trainee had been given to target his partner. "Yes, I can see the issue. You''re hoping that him attacking more reliably will improve your learning rate. Not exactly wrong, but it''d condition you to expect attacks to only come your way. You won''t always be the target of discreet assaults. Not to mention, like what happened when I arrived, not everything that may approach you aims to harm." The young black man blushed. "Yeah, sorry about that again..." "No worries. But yes, this is a flaw many unwittingly integrate because they want to learn faster. Scareowl''s uncertain attacks are an opportunity to learn to ascertain whether you need to react to something or not." Something swooshed and immediately the powerful trainee went for it, only to realize he had overextended his arm only to catch the tip of Serpent''s tail far away from him, risking his balance and almost falling over. As he stared at the scaled piece of body part in his hand he felt a poke on his back. One of the Hero''s four index fingers was pointing at him to place a claw over his spine. "And just like that, you''d be paralyzed, if not dead." The snake let their hand down and forcefully removed their tail from Kopper''s hand, the trainee almost falling over from the powerful pull. "Estimating threats and problems is a capital part of Hero work. You need to be able to determine whether a troublemaker is only a boasting thug or a Villain in hiding. You need to know which situation needs handling first. You need to know if something is out of your league." They hummed. "If I remember correctly, that is one lesson Saline taught you before, no?" "Eh, yeah... That Legion combination thing was... It sure was something." Scareowl nodded along, prompting the gladiatorial reptile to smirk. "Ah, that large one. Not the biggest they can do, but anything more than that would have been overkill even in a situation you were supposed to lose. It makes for a good training partner once you can handle it." The two young men took a second to process that sentence. They exchanged glances that quickly evolved from curious to shocked to horrified. "Uh..." "Sir, did you just imply that you could fight one of those head-on?" "They are large and clumsy targets. Even without destructive powers like my colleagues, a good strategy is enough to bring them down. You just need some experience and more training to do the same." The two trainees weren''t convinced and it showed, even with their masks. "I watched the videos of your test. While you couldn''t have won, you still did an impressive job. If you had been better prepared you could have destroyed a few joints, crippling it. The Legions would have to reorganize or disband, allowing you to deal more damage. With enough individual robots broken, they would no longer be able to reliably combine without exposing glaring weak points." "Is that how you do it, sir?" "Oh, no. I either rip a leg off and beat it to death with it or I slither up to the main body and rampage until only the limbs are left." "Oh." "But worry not, you two. This is not what I expect of you. Not even you, Kopper." He let out a sigh of relief. "You may have super strength, but you have yet to fully master to use it. Not to mention, there are varying levels of powers even for the same ability." "Yeah, you''re right..." "Worry not. You have shown the potential to reach such heights one day." "Oh. Oh..." The Hero gave them a few friendly taps on the shoulders before slithering away, leaving them to their training as they approached the final duo of the lot. Where the two previous pairs'' training had been relatively simple and even tranquil, it wasn''t the same for the gleefully giggling pyromaniac girl and the punkish drow''s bout. Glittering pink flames flew about as the smaller of the two hopped everywhere, much to the annoyance of the curse mistress. Tendrils of blood occasionally popped out of the ground to slap Glicer Glitter, but every time they only found air or sparkly powder that quickly ignited. More common curses also failed to hit their target at any point. Comparatively, Maledicta''s projected confidence was much harder to take seriously as she had to scramble to avoid colorful items thrown her way, her purple skin and ebony already having fallen victim to the shiny particles. Her long ears twitched along her eyelids, a snarl marring her normally somewhat dignified appearance. Why, if one were to get closer, they could even hear a growl. The Hero approached the two casually, only raising a hand to crush a stray tentacle that appeared a little too close and tried to grab them by accident. The elf paused when she noticed the situation, only for the distraction to leave an opening for a brand ball of glitter to be thrown at her face. The resulting explosion saw her originally white domino mask becoming a chaotic rainbow. Glicer giggled at the taller girl''s look as she settled down next to the reptilian warrior, oddly hued fire vanishing from her hair with the arrival of the quiet. "Glicer, Maledicta. I see your training is proving fruitful." The smaller one simply grinned as the other''s veins bulged on her forehead. "I fail to see anything of value here, Serpent." The snake had a smug look on their face. "Oh, a sharp young woman like you should see my point by now." The wrathful glare they got in response hinted that no, she didn''t. "Fine. Let me enlighten you. The point here was twofold: Glicer needed to learn to keep her destructive impulses in check, to learn how to use her flames without charring someone. Judging by your lack of burns, she did well enough." The pyromaniac beamed at the praise, further angering the drow. "And the second point?" "I''ve seen the reports about you. I think you needed to be reminded for all your power you couldn''t work alone, and that your teammates were just as capable as you are. You did show more impressive teamwork than anyone expected during that test, but this respect needs to be applied at all times. I''m not asking you to become their friend, just to acknowledge they are equally as competent as you. After all, had this been a battle to the death, we have enough evidence to know who would have been the clear winner." Maledicta growled, her arms crossed. "If this was to the death, I-" "You could have used more dangerous spells? Yes. But would you have had the time to cast them?" She held Serpent''s gaze for a few seconds before looking away. "As I thought. People are skilled in different areas. Glicer here is a born troublemaker, she''ll easily be able to sow chaos in battle while protecting her allies and civilians. You, on the other hand, are a powerful caster who needs to be supported to use your strength to the fullest. There is no shame in that. Different roles have different purposes, and they are all important. If being a Hero was only about being the strongest combatant, then we wouldn''t be guardians, just warriors. Oppositely, if Heroes couldn''t fight at all, then we''d simply be glorified emergency and relief workers. It''s about being a balance of both." She scoffed. "What about you and Firefighter? You two seem rather specialized, no?" "We are. And that''s the point. You need a bit of everything. Not to mention, you need to learn how to dabble in the fields of others. I can help even when no fighting is involved, and Firefighter is more than capable of taking care of Villains should he need to. We simply are suited for different things." She scoffed once more. "Well, if you have grown tired of this lesson, how about something different? You two against me. No weapons on my side, of course." Glicer went to exchange a look with Maledicta, but the drow''s eyes were fixated on the snake, a smirk on her lips. "Oh, I''m gonna show you all what I''m made of." The veteran smiled. Minutes later, as Sarah adjusted her aim to accommodate the now cloud-like form of the scrap body of Elaimant, she swore she could hear familiar shrill screaming in the distance. Chapter 166 : Invaders in the sewers The black rat''s snoot twitched as it sought foreign scents. Its mischief had tasked it to scout this part of the sewer tunnels near the center of their territory in the clean city, and it took this duty seriously. Doubly so since their patriarch har reprimanded them following their poor performance on the clean side of the surface. Their benefactor had been unhappy with their failings, and they were all ashamed. The rodent paused in its scurry. It wasn''t a smell that clued it in, but rather a sound. There had been a scratching on the stone above, one that matched none of the usual critters in these parts. The fact it had no smell meant it was purposefully hiding itself, for even the silent metal spiders that occasionally passed by had one. The rat resumed its walk, showing no sign of realizing anything was off, not even looking up to the ceiling where the source of the sound hid. Fighting now was reckless. If this mystery intruder stayed put, the rat could wait simply for its next run-in with one of its family members to share the information. If it disappeared by the time they next checked on it, they could just start to hunt it down. If it tried to ambush the rodent, however, it knew these tunnels by heart and where to head to meet reinforcements. Moments later the scratching lightly echoed once more. Not only had it followed the rat, it had gotten closer since the last time. Close enough that it could just drop on its prey. The rat ran, no longer bothering with playing pretend, right in time to avoid the tight grasp of suctioned tentacles of pale flesh that wound up holding nothing but air. The thing fully revealed itself now, a fleshy mass of boneless limbs and eyes walking on spindly blade-tipped legs, the whole creature held together by green leaves and barks infested by fungi and insects. The furry mammal hurried, well aware it could do little if it was caught. Sadly for the rat, its stalker wasn''t alone. Another one dropped before it, this one much closer to a centipede in appearance yet still covered in flesh rather than chitin and still enveloped in suspiciously harmonious greenery. This second attacker''s antennae were quite dextrous and prehensile, immediately put to use to catch the rodent before it could adjust its course to avoid the new living obstacle in its way. The rough leathery skin had no issue wrapping around its relatively small form, the powerful muscles beneath holding onto its furry hide with no issue. "My, brother, it appears I won." "I disagree, sister. You only caught it because it was too focused on me to notice you." "Ah, but the fact it evaded you means it noticed you before your attempt, hereby proving I was more subtle. My design wins." "Had our roles been swapped, I would be the one who caught it." "You have no evidence to back such a claim. Now hush, we have a duty to uphold." The centipede turned to face the rat''s eyes. The previously nearly featureless blob of flesh opened like a blooming flower to reveal a hairless smiling human female''s visage. "Why hello there, little one. We have much to ask of you." The many-limbed blob dragged itself closer, its eyestalks flailing about. "Sister, you are addressing a rodent. This isn''t the right head for the job." "Perhaps, but it is more appropriate than your anemone-like self. Now, little one, could you tell us about yourself?" The rat sniffed. Now that it was closer, it realized those two did have a scent. They had hidden themselves by perfectly copying the natural smell of the sewage. "Intruders. Unwelcomed. "Sister, can you hear? It speaks with human words." The rat paused. It and its family had grown used to communicating both via their ancient ways as well as speech, following in the wake of their patriarch and benefactor. It only now realized these creatures did the same, something much unusual for those lacking a connection as its mischief did. "I hear, brother, but more importantly, I listen. Are we encroaching on your territory, little one? Do forgive my sibling and me, we are simply curious about this area." "You see little one, my sister seek the help of a living shadow. Do you know one?" The animal stayed silent. "Little one, please answer my brother''s plea. We would greatly appreciate it." "Liars. Hunters. Predators." The human face on the centipede smiled. "Oh little one, what could have given you such a thought?" "Yes, little one, why do you doubt our honesty?" "Hide. Stalk. Ambush. Not seeking help. Seeking prey." The two abominations exchanged a few silent looks. "Oh, how sharp of you little one. My brother would learn much from you." "Yes, we hunt the shadow. It is dangerous. My sister and I heard word of your fellows fleeing on the surface and came to investigate. We noticed odd patches of black stone here and there." "Not unlike the fur on your skin. Was it always this way, little one? Did you perhaps fall victim to the shadow?" This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The only answer the rodent gave was biting the tubes of meat holding it. "Little one, you would gain much from helping us." "Much better than to lose all by trying to stop us." The rat narrowed its eyes before slowly nodding. "Good, good little one. See brother? My methods are always superior." "Be mindful of your words, sister. The Biflora told you he disapproved of this behavior." For the first time it was revealed, the female face of the creature lost its smile in favor of a frown. "Be careful yourself, brother." The eyestalks vibrated as the more grotesque of the two stepped back, its tentacles raised high, supposedly in some sort of sign of surrender according to what the patriarch had taught the mischief. The two monsters putting some distance between them was the perfect opportunity and the rodent did well to take advantage of it. It bit down on the skinny antennae holding it, this time putting much more force behind it than any mundane rat ever could. Its sharp incisors cut through the prehensile body parts, freeing it. It quickly scurried away, passing beneath the surprised centipede''s elevated front. In the time it took for the female to recover, the male had already rushed ahead to follow the animal, almost stepping on his sister if it hadn''t been for her quick reflexes. "Do not be such a brute, brother!" "Now is not the time, sister!" The two creatures quickly focused back on their fleeing prey and chased after it, no longer putting any effort into stealth in favor of sheer speed. It only a dozen seconds for them to catch up to their relatively small prey. "Come back here, little one." "If you will not heed the word of nature will, then you will be made to heel!" "Brother!" "You have been too kind. You let it think it could ignore the call." At last teeth-infested suckers caught black fur and stopped the rat''s flight, stopping it in its tracks. "If you refuse to aid the enforcers of nature''s will, then know there is much we can do." "Brother, the little one is caught. No need for further threats of violence." "No, let me finish, sister. Little one, know that all you know and much more can be extracted from your flesh. If you wish to keep it attached to your bones, you will speak and guide us to the aberration of darkness." The rat stayed silent, much to the beast''s frustration. "Do you have any more commentary, sister?" "Sigh, I fear not. Unless you see the light, little one, I fear that is all." "Then that is settled. A shame, little one. Know that under the Biflora''s gentle grace, you would have been welcome, regardless of your taint. For his love touches all, from the grass to the mightiest of predators." He paused, his many ocular organs turned on the critter in its grasp. It ignored his words and stayed stoic. He groaned. "So be it. I warned you, little-" Gigantic white jaws chomped down on the male, ripping off the body from the tentacles holding the rat. It immediately used the opportunity to run away once more, foregoing removing the limb still attached to it by the suckers and throbbing madly. The two creatures that had stalked it this far paid no mind to its escape, far too preoccupied with the massive reptilian beast hissing as it chewed on the still-living mass of leaves and flesh in its mouth. The crocodile had to be bigger than a bus, and covered in so many scars it turned its hide white. The centipede''s skin flaps closed back on her face even as she extended her legs to try and stab the water-dwelling predator, trying to dig at its throat and the underside of its jaw to free her siblings, screeching madly. At last, the flailing of the brother one of its tentacles to the creature''s eyes, bothering it enough to let the would-be-prey run free. His trip through the teeth of the oversized lizard still left a mark, missing a good of his various appendages. Yet there was no blood. The siblings retreated from the dirty waters the beast had emerged from with haste, pressing themselves against the wall. "Are you well, brother?" "Well enough, sister. But what is she doing here?" "A wondrous question, brother. MARKED! What are you doing, intruding on the Hivines'' holy mission? The guttural growl of the reptile vibrated through their very being, strong enough to form tremendous splashes in the sewage as the beast stood still. The two monsters flinched as they tried to get further away, walking to the side without ever letting the infamous crocodile out of their view. "It appears we are not welcomed in these halls, brother." "Her tearing me to shreds was a clear enough sign, sister." "Spare me the snark, brother. The Biflora must be informed. She is not known for allowing others in her territory, yet she makes an exception for this Silhouette. Why?" "A most appropriate question, sister, one I would love to uncover the truth to once we are away from the hostile ruler of the sewers." The centipede looked ready to retort but paused for a second. "Brother, what is she doing here?" "I already asked this, sister." "I am well aware. But my question is, why is she here, beneath the civilized Zalcien, and not her usual domain in the wild parts? We know of passages that allow creatures such as her to slip through, but none should be nearby." "Sister, allow me to reiterate. While this is major information I would love to uncover, we have more pressing and violent matters at hand." "Yes, yes, forgive me, brother." The two fleshy beasts looked at the crocodilian threat one last time before running away, hurrying their flight once they noticed the sound of displaced water following them. Moments later, when it seemed the large predatory threat was gone, they found themselves surrounded by a swarm of black rats nearly the size of cats, though they weren''t all that sizeable compared to the monsters dressed in green. With their enhanced senses the two easily noticed a very familiar scent among the furry crowd, a noticeable bloodied one standing out from the rest of the group. The only other rodent that was more eye-catching than their little escapee was the one with a front paw not made of meat and bone but vaporous darkness vaguely shaped like a claw. Its anomalous limb wasn''t the only thing that made this one special. Its eyes held a lot more intelligence than the rest, an impressive feat for animals already smarter than their already normally intelligent were. "Intruders. You plague our domain in a doomed quest. You will find nothing here but death. Surrender and you shall live to see the light once more." The siblings exchanged a look. "It appears things are getting more and more dire, sister." "Indeed, brother. Black spots, the Marked, and now a vermin army? One that refuses our savior''s call? It paints quite the fearsome picture of our target." "Should we call for reinforcements, sister?" The centipede scoffed. "They may be many, but there are but small omnivores while we are large predators. There is no need to worry, brother." The rat in charge provided an impressive rebuttal by leaping at the centipede and clawing at her armored with its phantasmal limb, drawing black gouges on her body with a soul-splitting shriek from the monster as she began to ram herself against all solid surfaces to try and dislodge the mammal. Her brother had no choice but to grab her and plunge into the putrid waterway in the middle of the tunnel to make the attacker let go, giving the tentacled beast the perfect opening to scamper away with his spasming sister in his grasp. The dark swarm pursued, relentless hunters until the blob found its way to a sewer grate and climbed out. They stay hidden in the shadows as daylight shined down, watching the intruders leave their territory in silence. Only their leader looked away, his eyes instead falling on the white mass hidden in the waters nearby. He sent it a thankful nod, with the large body fully disappearing in response. Under normal circumstances, at least a few of them would have continued to pursue, if only to keep track of them. Even at the risk of being noticed on the surface world. Polisson knew there was no need. The monsters were running right into his master''s hands. Chapter 167 : Hunter and prey When the two monstrous flesh creatures emerged from the sewer grate onto the street, they were in luck. Not only was the surface clear of pedestrians despite the sun still shining its light onto the city, but they also weren''t far from their original target. While they had genuinely been ordered to investigate the sewers in search of clues, they knew of one spot it resided in. "Look, brother. That street shouldn''t be far from the Penumbral Palace." "I hear you, sister, but give me a moment. I was just partially devoured by one of the sewers'' rulers." "Yes, yes, complain as you wish. But this is indeed a development we must share with the Biflora as soon as possible." "I am well aware, sister. The Marked has always been known for her relative neutrality, compared to The Blind and The Horror. Still, at most she tolerates passers-by. Her outright allying with someone is unprecedented, just like her leaving the tainted part of the city. What makes this situation more worrying however is her appearance." "How so, brother? I haven''t noticed anything out of the usual given the reports." "And that is the problem. She was untouched by the darkness we saw on the rats and the walls. I fear our elemental friend found a way to corrupt beings without making it apparent." The centipede''s flaps on the head opened, revealing a horrified human face. "Acolytes could very well be compromised without even realizing it." "If our theory is correct, yes. Which is why I recommend retreating now and reporting to the lord." "How unusual of you, brother. You usually would argue to charge and gather as much as possible by now." "A close encounter with the jaws of a magnificent reptile has put out my usual fire, I''m afraid." The centipede chuckled while the beast of tentacles and eyestalks watched, unamused. "Being this casual while on duty is uncharacteristic of you as well, sister." She paused in her mockery. "Yes. How troublesome. It seems the excitement of this mission got to us faster than usual." The prehensile appendages of the other nodded in agreement. "I propose we rearrange the mass now." "Are you certain, brother? While on mission?" "If we wish to return to the norm and better decide the best course of action, yes." She hesitated, scratching at her pointy yet elegant chin with a thin leg with far too many joints. "Fine. Do you have anything planned so we can synergize?" "Considering our recent encounters, sister, I think something with wings would do me well." "Range for you and melee for me, then?" "Yes, that will do, sister." "Very well, brother. But first, we should head into an alley." Only now did the more grotesque of the two monsters realize they still stood in the oddly empty street, in broad daylight. Well, evening light would be more appropriate, but the sun had yet to set. He grumbled as he accompanied her to the nearest dark spot away from prying eyes. A quick check with all their senses showed there truly was no one nearby who could potentially bear witness to or try to interfere with what would happen next, prompting the two to exchange a final nod before beginning. The abominations walked into each other but rather than bounce off one another''s bodies, the flesh that composed them melded together, flesh fusing with flesh as their robes combined to better cocoon the shrinking orb they had become. It took minutes of rotating and squelching in the otherwise quiet alleyway for the green shell to crack, the flora splitting back into two right as their wearers emerged. It was hard to say which was which, not just because of their changed physique. The very material that composed them had been carefreely exchanged with no regard for which of the two entities it had originally belonged to. What had once been a centipede of skin and a noodly monster were now a bizarre inflated cuttlefish with wings and a crab with lizard legs and a scorpion''s tail. Of course, much like their previous iterations, those new forms were composed exclusively of flesh, though the skin of the arthropod was thick and leathery enough to serve as a decent replacement for chitin. The car-sized crab''s mouthparts opened to reveal the feminine human face beneath, a smirk on her lips as she studied the comparatively diminutive form of her brother, the long yet thin wings helping him adjust his position in the air looking quite ridiculous on top of his ballooned body. "What an odd choice of configuration, brother." "I hear you, sister. But know this is infinitely more fearsome than those chitinous forms you enjoy so much. As we are, we lack the resources for you to make them truly efficient." "Alas. Onto the matter at hand, what should we do now?" The tentacles beneath the balloon bristled. "Realigning ourselves has gifted me the will to see our mission through." "How unfortunate. I mind myself agreeing with your previous mindset. Things have already gone awry once, mindlessly persisting will only bring us to failure. What we have learned so far is already worth reporting." "But think of how much more we could learn! All we need is an opening, a chance-" The cephalopod paused as the duo heard something approaching. Metallic footsteps accompanied by a deep voice marked by a Draskian accent. They paused their quarrel as they focused on the passer-by, having an inkling as to their identity. "Yes, everything is progressing appropriately Mister Silhouette. We should be right on time for the opening day despite your decision to announce it without consulting me first. You are very welcome." The mechanical scientist paused at the entrance to their alleyway, though he was far too focused on his phone call to notice the two creatures watching him from the shadows. "A visit to your hometown? Now? That seems counterproductive. Idiotic, even. What prompted you to do such a thing? Fine. May you pay us a last visit before you depart, to verify that all is to your liking?" The abominations got a little closer. "Already gone? Why did you wait until now to warn me? Ah, yes, I suppose I can forgive you if it was for the sake of my work. May I have an estimate of the duration of this leave? A week? Very well. Rest assured, I will keep operations functional in your absence. Do remember to better manage your schedule in the future." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Ivan Decanov ended the call and placed his phone back in the pocket of his lab coat. The movement led him to look to the side, exposing the sight of two seemingly marine horrific creatures draped in leaves and bark watching him with a nigh frenzied look in their eyes. The pragmatical man raised one of his infamous rectangular eyebrows. "Silhouette? Gone for a week, you say? Hear this, sister?" "Why yes, brother. This might make this risky expedition worth reconsidering." The two monsters of the Hivines advanced as one, prompting the robot to run back the way he came from. "After him!" "I know, brother." The crab dashed madly ahead, its reptilian legs packing incredible power in their oversized muscles. The cuttlefish meanwhile began to release some of its gas, allowing it to reach tremendous speeds. They cared not for the noise they made or the destruction they caused in their pursuit, bricks flying as they hurried out of the alley and after their new target. The robot''s sprint was nothing to scoff at either, his heavy stomps leaving shallow rectangular marks on the ground with his soles. The power in his mechanical body would have allowed him to easily lose a human pursuer by this point. Sadly, those weren''t humans. The brother was the first to reach him. Thankfully for the pursued, the cuttlefish''s lightness, necessary for his flight, made him easy to push off. More precisely, a backhanded slap of a metal hand sent the cultist into a wall before his lengthening tentacles could do anything. He returned shortly, and this time evaded the slap. He failed to foresee the elbow slammed into his inflated body, however. Before the brother could attempt to catch his prey and fail a third time, the sister arrived. The robot had to leap to avoid the crushing grip of her massive claws, their unarmored form letting bare the powerful muscles granting them their strength. The claws of her reptilian legs tore through the asphalt of the street with ease, effortlessly ruining the footsteps the heavy machine left in his wake. Her brother returned once more, though this time he settled down on her bulky frame. His tentacles adjusted, positioning him to better fire off and catch the fleeing man. "You can''t run, Doctor! Cease this meaningless flight!" Ivan Decanov had no lungs. His speech was in no way tied to his equivalent of stamina. As such, he could theoretically respond to the demented balloon that had just taunted him. He didn''t. He might have loved to hear his own voice, but he was still a genius and as such perfectly capable of realizing the act could still distract him. Case in point, he had a feeling he wouldn''t have turned in time to avoid the high-velocity cephalopod thrown his way if he did entertain the abomination''s game. The brother splatted against the building wall and it was up to his sister to catch him as she turned the corner, a lizard limb grasping his confused body before throwing him back onto her back. The smaller of the two siblings shook himself, his wings flapping about before he had recovered enough to attempt another launch. Thankfully both for the inflated cuttlefish and his target, Decanov''s goal was just in sight. The scientist barged into the frontal shop of the Penumbral Palace as the two silent guards at the entrance turned and aimed their weapons at the incoming monsters. Bolts of electricity and one of the two creatures flew through the air. The sparkling energy harmlessly fizzled out once it reached the crab, whereas the tentacles of the brother brought low the two sentries, wrapping them together before rapidly and repeatedly bashing them against the wall until they stopped moving, and then some more. The sister had to grab him along once more as she forced her way inside to get him to stop venting his frustration on the unconscious opponents. The black interior of the shop was eery, and the empty shelves didn''t help the atmosphere. A few more guards were waiting, but they posed no challenge to the combined might of his tentacles and her claws. The backdoor to the inner court of the facility was wide open and the back of the fleeing machine was still visible even as he ran inside the factory he had entirely renovated. The cultists spared no time rushing after him, continuing their pursuit and bashing aside any of the guards on their way. At last, they made their way in, and they were delighted to find the building empty of anything but inert machinery and their latest prey. The doctor backed away as they appeared, stepping back to grab some sort of rifle that had been left on a nearby table. "There is nowhere to run now, Doctor." "My brother and I merely wish to talk." The Draskian scoffed as he aimed the black weapon their way, the dark crystal at the end of the muzzle alternating between the two. "I know your sort. You will proclaim my existence heretical whether or not I help you." "Nonsense, Doctor. The Biflora may wish for a return to a natural paradise, but as my brother can attest, he still understands the sins of machines don''t fall on them but their makers. Why, your kind had proven capable of cohabiting and even helping nature." "As my sister says, you can fit in. Look at all those ships providing sea life a safe haven." The scientist grunted. "Sunken ships. Rusting. Decaying." "Either way, Doctor, we have no ill will towards you. We simply wish to know more about the man you work for. My brother and I have found ourselves quite worried about his operations. Oh, how the corruptive darkness he wields has infected the sewers. A tragedy." "Indeed, sister. Such a plague poses an incredible threat, not just to nature but to all. None of us wants a repeat of the tragedy that brought low the old Zalcien. Certainly, even you must understand the risks involved, Doctor. Tell us everything." The robot fired his weapon, a black bolt of electricity almost hitting the cuttlefish if it hadn''t just released gas and flung itself out of the way. "Your damned cult leader is far more dangerous than anything Silhouette may wish to do. Besides, I signed a contract. There is nothing I could tell you even If I wanted to. And with no organic brain to steal and siphon information from, there is nothing you can do. The open mouthparts of the crab slapped her body as her human face let out a laugh. "Oh oh oh, Doctor, you are misunderstood. While we could have extracted all that we need ourselves had you not been made of accursed metal, that doesn''t mean we can''t learn what we want from you. Isn''t that right, brother? "Yes. Some of those who understand the truth of the Biflora''s cause are more than capable of tearing the information out of your circuits. Magic curse or not, compliant or not, we will know everything. And it has been made quite clear nothing here can stop us." Decanov shot once more and the balloon evaded again. "So you are willing to assault and kidnap me in the very heart of my employer''s growing enterprise on the off chance I may know anything about some nefarious plot or worrisome ability he may possess. That''s it?" The brother was ready to reply before his sister caught him in one of her claws, a perplexed look on her face. "Doctor, are you recording this?" The Draskian grunted. "Well, I suppose it was unlikely for you to be this idiotic. We''ll have to make do with what''s already gathered." "Doctor, what are you talking about?" The scientist put down his weapon before turning back to the two monsters, the smaller one now free from his sibling but sharing her confusion. "Doctor, answer my sister''s query. What game are you playing?" "The one I told him to." The two abominations''s eyes snapped to the ceiling and widened in horror at what they saw. Ambient shadows on the ceiling moved slithered, gathering to form a single mass that dropped heavily down onto the ground, splashing and reforming into a wide-shouldered humanoid frame that stared them down despite its lack of face and eyes. Behind them, they heard the loud clocking of metal on metal and the heavy click of the entrance''s locking itself. All of a sudden the empty factory had become a mausoleum invaded by black mist and shambling figures crawling out of the shadows out of sight. "Two acolytes of the Hivines came to my door not so long ago. Then, I hear word two monsters wearing their robes appear in the sewers nearby. Now, two more creatures with the same clothes but different appearances barge in, pursuing my trusted employee. Am I correct to assume you are perhaps the same two shapeshifting individuals?" The crab snapped a claw at a walking shadow that grew too close for comfort. "No need to answer. I can feel it. The black scar you wear. Curiously, only one of you had been marked, and yet you both now bear a fragment of it." The cultists recalled the wound that strange rat had inflicted. They grew furious. "You will let go of us, Silhouette." "As my brother says. You cannot harm us without incurring the wrath of the Biflora." The dark figure chuckled as twisted serpents swam through the mist. "I have a feeling he would become my enemy after your safe return regardless. The least I can do is ensure what you have learned doesn''t reach him." She suddenly realized the extent of their mistake. She grabbed her brother and tried to run away, dread in her heart. Before she could even try to bash through the doors that had closed behind them, she felt a soul-chilling cold invade her. She couldn''t move her limbs. She looked to the side to see the reason why and terror invaded her. Shadows clung to her like glue, and from them spread black frost that hurried to cover her body, the thin layer further turning to impenetrable black ice. Her brother fought against her already frozen claw to escape fruitlessly. Soon living tar covered him, in an instant turning to black flames that scorched him yet transmitted no warmth to her. She realized that in her attempt to save him, she had doomed him. She opened her mouth to scream. Before sound could leave her throat it was invaded by more of that insidious darkness. Her consciousness faded away. And yet she still felt the horrible fangs gnawing at her very soul. Chapter 168 : Discussing possibilities Doctor Ivan Decanov stepped towards the inert pile of black sludge that had once been two monsters attempting to kidnap him emotionlessly. He bent his back to study the mass a little closer, trying to discern traits leftover from the entities they used to be. "You did quite the number on them." Still acting as Silhouette, James approached the doctor after ending the dramatic horror scene he had set. No more mist or strange apparitions haunted the warehouse, only the two strange men and what remained of the victims of their scheme. "I hope witnessing the Transformation Aspect firsthand wasn''t too distressing." "Bah, I may have never seen the process on living beings but I''ve been experimenting with your crystals for a little while now. The elemental appears to be new, though. Much like the dreadful atmosphere. I have to admit, even I was caught off-guard by that one." "I picked up on the trick some time ago, but my sessions with Mesker had drastically improved my usage." "Ah, right, the wizard. That''s still quite the upgrade in just a few days of learning." "Let''s simply say our dear demonologist doesn''t take teaching lightly." The robot scoffed. "That''s the bare minimum. I''m more impressed his lessons were effective on one such as you." "I suppose I have a strong Soul." "Hmf. In any case, for future reference, I''d rather not be bait for your plans in the future." "I''m genuinely sorry, doctor. I''ll try to avoid the practice when possible. However, you understand the situation." "Yes, yes. The Hivines sent spies, they stumbled on your rat guards, and you wanted them silenced." "It''s not the rats that worried me, though Mischief losing the element of surprise would be a bother. It''s what Polisson did." "Ah, you did mention something about that marked business. I suppose then his claw is capable of spreading your influence?" "Yes, and it''s a discovery I''d rather keep quiet. I know you said that me having this Aspect would get out eventually, but it''d be best if the ways it''s spread stay discreet." The robot nodded. "Yes, it would be best to keep them in the dark, as it were." James had to take a few seconds to register the moment. "Was that a pun, doctor? I didn''t think you had it in you." "Moving on, how long did you know of those two clowns?" James could see the scientist was trying to change the subject. It was blatant. But honestly? He figured the man deserved his wishes to be respected. Decanov seemed quite fond of banter on some days, but that didn''t mean he had to entertain James whenever they met. Besides, James had a feeling the man simply struggled to handle his feelings and used this cold facade as a shield. Or maybe he genuinely was a prick with the occasional sense of humor. Either way, he earned it. "Not long, in truth. I was actually just coming back from a meeting with Mesker when Mischief came to warn me of an ongoing altercation. I gave them orders to lead the intruders to a specific spot, called you to go there and perform our little act before luring them here as I hurried to ascend as well, and voil¨¤. Had I still been down there, they likely would have gotten away." "Don''t be so sure. Even with the security system disabled as it is now, if all went well and I had seriously been trying to take them down, I could have corrupted the larger one and ordered it to take out the smaller one. She seemed more than capable of catching him." "Perhaps. Maybe he would have fled. Maybe she would have resisted long enough to attack you. In this sort of situation, I prefer to go for overkill." "You won''t always be there, Silhouette. You can''t be everywhere at once." "That, Doctor, is a problem I aim to solve." James formed a tentacle to poke the pile of sludge, sending the whole thing wobbling. Each wobble and bobble saw the mass change, slimming down as it reshaped itself. "Umph. So it wasn''t that your powers melted them, but rather that they were flesh blobs to begin with. Not overly surprising for the Hivines." "What intrigues me is how seamlessly they fused. The fact only one of them was marked but both bore the burden when they arrived, along with the fact they looked different according to Mischief, leads me to believe those weren''t truly siblings. Not in a biological sense." "A single entity splitting itself both in body and mind? Not impossible, but I question the utility in this case. The advantage of such an ability would be to spread the resulting parts, why bother sending two when they could fuse into one? The inflated one barely did anything, the crab could have used his resources to upgrade herself." "Restrictions in the way they work, perhaps. What worries me is how aware of one another they are. If there''s more of this split entity out there, is it aware of what happened to these two?" "Yes, I do believe this would be worth investigating. Perhaps you should have left one of them unharmed to judge its reactions to the other''s demise?" "Perhaps. I still think there would have been too high of a risk the survivor fled, but I can''t deny it would have been an opportunity to learn more. Still, what I gathered is already enough." The robot raised one of his prominent rectangular eyebrows. "Could you elaborate on that?" "There was no resistance to my infusion, at least nothing outside of the norm. This either indicates they weren''t affected by the Transformation Aspect or that my version of it was much more powerful than the hypothetical one they had." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "I see. Do not start underestimating these lunatics because of that." "Of course. Not everyone working for me has been touched by my shadows. It''s more than probable that if this Biflora has a similarly corruptive power the same would be true for him. But wouldn''t you agree it''s the sort of ability you''d expect from those creatures? If they weren''t made with Transformation, then how?" The scientist tapped his square chin with his cubic fingertip, making a light clinging sound. "The Hivines are a troublesome lot, but they also know how to keep secrets. The fact everyone in the underworld treats them like the Villainous group they are despite yet not having the title officially is proof of that. Technology is out of the question. Those demented tree huggers treat anything made after the Stone Age like poison. You''d figure they''d welcome genetically engineered lifeforms." "They don''t?" "Well, yes, but they also have other robots among them. Those are not true members of the group. They''re cattle, infiltrated agents, their guarantee that the Hero Union will never nuke them. The true Hivines are not the adoring masses but rather the shepherds among them. Those are the ones that will never allow beings of science into their ranks, not unless the Biflora himself steps in to reward and promote a particularly competent worshipper." "You''re quite informed." "One of my siblings had the bright idea to join them. That idiot did so well at a job the leader came out of his hole for the congratulations." "Are they well?" "Oh, they''re still alive. A little rusty and covered in moss, but functional. Their attempts at recruiting us by sharing their stories make for useful intel once you learn to distill the propaganda." "I hope they''ll over the indoctrination. Now, you were saying?" "Right, right. Not technology. Magic isn''t my forte but it seems unlikely as well. It''s well known whatever the Biflora does isn''t magic. The city''s druids are unnerved by what he does. It''s an open secret the Hivines create problems the druids can''t fix for some reason but the cult can and does to further their reputation." "It could be some sort of forbidden spell. My last time meeting a demon revealed they didn''t operate on the same rules we do." "As I''ve said, I''m a man of science, not one of those sticks and fingers wigglers. Perhaps it''s demonic rituals at play, I wouldn''t know. Did the two feel otherworldly?" "No, not really. They felt no different than anyone else so far." "So, once again, magic is unlikely. It only leaves two or three options." "Two or three?" "It depends on how you wish it categorize them. Option number one, this is a natural mutation of sorts." "Either a spontaneous one or the result of generational evolution like the one of the unicorns we discussed in the past." "Exactly. If the latter is the case, we might be able to discover more if we can correctly identify the species." "And your last two-in-one option?" "Otherworldly intervention." "Elaborate." "This is why I further broke it into two. One, this is a god''s work. Two, this is the touch of something from elsewhere, another realm, an alien planet, or possibly another eldritch creature. It would explain the wanderer that came after you. It could have slipped in when the others came or left." "The eldritch hypothesis doesn''t work. Mesker assured me the Nightsnatcher snuck in alone. I also didn''t feel anything like that on them." "What of the divine one? Or the other realms?" "I''m afraid I don''t know. The same goes for the alien theory." "Well, knowing you do not know is good enough. Either way, no matter which of these ideas is correct, it would be better than the Transformation Aspect." "Even a god?" "Deities have rules they must follow. If they could do as they pleased science as a whole would be pointless. As omnipotent as they like to pretend to be, they are in the end just another form of existence, not the great architects of creation they present themselves as." James hummed in acknowledgment. If one of the smartest people in the people thought they were better off fighting a god than someone with corruptive powers, he was inclined to trust him. To be fair, it also fitted in with what he had gathered from his research about this world. Captain Cyan, his kids'' favorite show that just so happened to be historically accurate despite its campiness, did feature multiple divine characters that were knocked around just as much as other regulars of the show. Prometheus had been enough of a threat to be a two-parter, but he wasn''t the only one to show up. Well, to be entirely accurate Prometheus wasn''t truly a god either, but he was close enough to one to draw the comparison. The pile of recently infused flesh hadn''t been idle while the two men discussed. It had finished the last steps of its transformation, turning from a singular pulsing mass to two quiet copies of Silhouette. Not perfect ones though. Solvent was much closer to James and still wasn''t fully accurate. It couldn''t turn into a gaseous or a fully immaterial form and that black skeleton in the middle restricted how heavily it could alter itself. These two newcomers were even more restricted, James could feel it. First off, they were made of meat. That might sound bizarre, but it was truly a limitation. Where Solvent was a slime with an oversized solid core, those were closer to slugs. They did have tentacles hidden inside, ready to be released, but they could only come out of specific hidden slits on the body. Not to mention that those were physical appendages, if cut they couldn''t be regrown without reclaiming the lost body mass firsthand and their weight was fixed. That last point was likely the reason why the copies were at least a head taller than James'' version of Silhouette, a shape that was already a head taller than the average person. There had been a lot of combined flesh, but only two minds to make use of it, and given Silhouette''s general slimness aside from the wide shoulders and the tentacles, the result was those two towering figures. James could already tell those would do poorly in a fight compared to Solvent and himself. Well, they''d probably be more than able to take down mundane people, even ones armed with regular guns, but anything at the level of a former Runarian Knight would beat them with ease, whereas Solvent could likely beat the lot of them by now. It didn''t sit around menacingly and silently for nothing. "I''m guessing one of those will be permanently stationed here?" "I''m not sure. This area is the most at risk currently, so I''d rather send them to already secured locations while I stay here." "Oh, how thoughtful of you. Why, I had no idea you were so worried over me." The scientist''s deadpan stare revealed his true feelings much more accurately than his words. "No one is stopping you from making some protective gear from yourself. I could also permanently dispatch an Infused or two to serve as bodyguards." "Because being surrounded by dark and gloomy guards wouldn''t be suspicious. Of course." "I could also have Mischief monitor you. They''re not quite perfect on the surface yet, but they pride themself on their discretion." "Ah yes, rodents, the perfect security force. Sadly I may have to accept your offer. They are better than nothing, and I can''t afford to be careless when someone else is at home." James nodded. "I''ll inform them right away." Without any further thing being said, the two former cultists made their way out, relying a lot on their bottom tentacles and using them to walk, hidden underneath the cloak of black flesh that simulated Silhouette''s singular foot, instead of James and Solvent''s natural smooth movement. "Yes, they''ll fail to convince anyone perceptive enough that has met or researched you. You should ideally keep them standing without moving." "Like glorified scarecrows with speakers. Unfortunately, you''re correct." "Of course, when am I not? On that note, I''ll be taking my leave. If I get home too late Adam might get worried. Farewell, Silhouette." The scientist walked ahead without waiting for James'' response, following after the two flesh copies as they squelched through the doorway. James was tempted to call out to the man and ask him to wait for Mischief to finalize their preparations, having already sent a quick short message to Polisson through their bond. Ultimately, he figured this would make for a nice test for the rats. He ordered his new avatars to head off to warn the rodents already present in the facility before going down to the sewers as he let himself become one with the ambient darkness, quickly hiding away in the doctor''s shadow. Would the rats be able to catch up to the man and stay hidden, or would they be discovered or be too late to solve any arising problem? It was time to see if those on the surface were as ready for an emergency as those in the tunnels beneath. Chapter 169 : Ready for the big day With no further incidents, the opening day date grew ever closer. The doctor continued working on his machinery, improving the efficiency of the complete designs and refining the still flawed ones. It took three tries before the artificial infusion process was fully successful. The bonds it formed in James'' soul space weren''t quite at the level of those he created himself, but they were better than those produced by fully powered electroguns. They were as strong as those formed by Solvent when he last tested the body double''s capacities. Whatever the doctor had done, he had fixed the problem of infused items registering as individual parts rather than complete objects. In a sense, they were still individually weak links weaved together to form a stronger one, Decanov just figured out a way to have this joining occur within the conglomerated parts themselves rather than outside. The mechanics of the phenomenon were still somewhat unclear to James, but if it worked, it worked. Decanov wasn''t the only one hard at work. Larry and Barry along with their bodyguards had arrived from the slums, discovering the city with awe. They were being hosted in the barracks along with the Infused, and apparently they were more than happy with the situation. It wasn''t all fun and games, though. The four had their apprenticeship under Nanyet, and the celestial entity had no mercy when it came to the mercantile arts. The goal was for the four to not only adapt to the difference in business between the slums and the city but also begin developing managerial abilities. The end goal was for James to hire new employees and trust the brothers to direct them. James had been curious and questioned the otherworldly being on this instant business, and it had no issue answering his query. "So, Nanyet. I am correct to assume this instance business is a form of cloning?" "Not exactly. The process is self-explanatory: I am creating different instances of myself. I exist in multiple places at the same time." "Is that why your body stays still? Because if you raised your arm here it''d be raised everywhere?" "Indeed. It would be difficult to operate in different environments concurrently if any action was reflected on all." "Instead, you use your powers." "I do not need to move my body to operate, so why should I? The only purpose of gestures for the majority of entities like myself is mortal mimicry. When in a setting that values function over form, I am free to operate to the maximum of my abilities. "I see. If I may? I''ve had the unfortunate chance to encounter a demon in the past, and given your similitude, I was curious about the differences between you." The towering creature of porcelain skin with silver wings had paused at that. While James got a knack for discerning the feelings of those with no face like himself, the haloed humanoid didn''t emote at all. Its unmoving form leaked no hint of what it thought or felt, leaving James completely clueless as to what might be going on in its mind. "Celestials and demons dislike being compared." "Oh, pardon me, you don''t need to answer." "However, as you said, the similitudes are many. We are ultimately people of the same nature, simply on the opposite sides of the coin. They are chaos, we are order. This change is the root of the many differences in our cultures." It paused once more. "We are incarnations of the flow of existence. We value organization. Rules. Laws. While we may come to disagreements, we prefer verbal engagements, and should diplomacy fail we peacefully go our separate ways. Demons value power, for they seek change. A demonic ruler is always the strongest in its territory, whereas a celestial one is chosen for their wisdom, not their strength. They compete to rise and replace the old. They want to become the one at the top. Should a celestial be unhappy with their leadership, they simply leave in search of one better suited to their desires or form a new group themself." "Yet you implied the source of your power is the same." "It is the world itself. Some employ different terms, to say demons shackle whereas celestials corral, but the result is the same. We order reality to do our bidding. They unleash chaos whereas we order our surroundings. It is how I can compute being present in multiple places at once." James nodded along. "You have a long-lasting and deep-rooted rivalry, yet everything seems pointed in your favor." "Things are not as they appear. By the nature of the world, chaos is more common, and thus our spawning rate is lower. Demons compete and kill each other, but in their struggles, they do grow stronger than many celestials bother to. We are more united as a whole and more inclined to ally with otherwise neutral or antagonistic forces to handle major threats, but they are willing to resort to any method to achieve their goals, regardless of the cost." "Your respective strengths and weaknesses balance both sides to be equal." "Simply put, yes. There are variations with either side gaining the advantage at times, but nothing drastic enough to shift the tide. The status quo stands unchanged, though not unchallenged. The fact neither realm can directly connect to the other does help maintain this relative peace." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Right. It''s hard to send armies to your enemies'' home when there''s an entire world between you." "Correct. Those who attempt to bypass or overwhelm the mortal realm see their plans fail. Underestimating mortals has been the downfall of many." "I''m not surprised, though I''ll keep it in mind." The two stood there silently together for a little while. James had been tempted to ask the celestial for advice in a fight. Ultimately, he dismissed the idea. Getting pointers from an entity that had easily lived centuries would do wonders for his improvements, but there was something that just didn''t feel right about it. He knew he had to learn to trust others outside of his group a little more. It was part of the reason why he had this conversation in the first place. There simply was something that didn''t click with Nanyet. Maybe it was just its unnatural nature. In any case, James didn''t feel comfortable asking for its advice as of now. This wasn''t the sole discussion between the two during the days leading up to the opening day, but it was the most memorable one. None of the others had taught James as much about the inner workings of this world or revealed as much as to his guest''s thought process. Though it seemed robotic in behavior at a glance, Nanyet was undeniably a sapient entity with likes and dislikes and quirks. They were passive and far from expressive, but their choice of words revealed a lot. For instance, for all of their aloof presence, they had quite a sense of humor. It just took a moment to notice. Decanov''s advancement in his research and Nanyet''s presence weren''t the only things worth mentioning. Back in the slums, the team of workers from the original fake warehouse was promoted to take over the shop back there. Well, technically they also still managed the warehouse, they just had a rotation going on who was the pair to operate the shop itself each day, all under the vigilant eye of Mischief and the Infused of course. The one that hated eggs was particularly happy about the situation, something about being able to move out. Whether any of them was a spy or not in the end had never been revealed. The warehouse was also being rearranged. It was still a bomb in the waiting, but since no one had tried anything unwise since Runar the trap had never been sprung, prompting James to actually make use of the place. It would still be ready to detonate at a moment''s notice, but now it would genuinely be used to store products imported from the city to later on be sold in this shop. Everything would be transported underground to a more public entrance to the surface before being conveyed to the storage place, a method that turned out to be rather common among the other sellers of the dangerous parts of Zalcien. While most of that transit was illegal trade of things like weapons and drugs, James wasn''t the only one with an actual by-the-books business going. He even got a discount on the usage of the public transit route by having the Infused help guard other convoys. They''d only be accompanying the existing guards, but having more armed forces to keep threats at bay was always welcome. The silent and near mindless militia was a little unsettling to most, but everyone appreciated their effectiveness and willingness to follow orders. On that topic, the Sunken City was also home to quite the evolution regarding James'' operations. In his initial expansion to connect his base to an entrance to the civilized surface, James had taken over multiple armed groups, essentially drug dealers. At first, James completely disregarded them. He trusted Mischief, the Infused, and the Shadow Commando to keep them in line, but he had no actual plan for those unwilling recruits. Something similar went for Guy''s child spies since the man in charge was focused on building a new network in the sunless expanse. Those problems had been resolved. Mother Greenheld''s Orphanage, now affectionately referred to as The Shadow Dew by the commando, was back to its roots. Spectral nuns under the guidance of a haunted tree took care of ghostly children and now living ones as well. The spirits of the building had been overjoyed to see new arrivals, and for better or worse the harsh living conditions of the slums meant Guy''s former spies and scouts weren''t as afraid of the undead as they should. The goal was for them to learn to behave somewhat normally before being handed over to a regular orphanage in the city. Guy had argued for James to keep ties to the kids to have a hidden network ready to go, but instrumentalizing children like that just felt wrong. If the children wanted to contact him on their own, that was a different story. The former dealers went through a career change. No longer would they be part of the drug trade, instead, they would now act as mercenaries. James'' standards had been hammered into them, so he trusted only an Infused or two in each team would be enough to keep them in line. They were opposed to the idea at first, but the brand-new equipment they received for the job changed their mind. Instead of being paid on a per-mission basis, they''d all be getting regular salaries while all the money and items they earned otherwise would go directly to James - or more accurately, to the pair of elite Infused overseeing the operation. It might seem unfair at first, but in truth, they were operating at a loss: their escapades cost James money. Why did he bother, then? The answer was simple. Reputation. Guy''s informants confirmed that Silhouette was growing more and more popular in their circles. Silhouette was fair. Silhouette protected them where others didn''t. Silhouette didn''t try to take advantage of them. While the character wasn''t as famous as others down below, those who knew of him had a positive impression. Of course, some had the bright idea to try and take advantage of this kindness. Hence the last and most important part of Silhouette''s spreading legend. Don''t mess with Silhouette. Runar had done wonders on the surface, but the Sunken City wasn''t quite as aware. While the most powerful groups in the abandoned urban wasteland were simply extensions or even administrative headquarters of larger criminal organizations in the proper city, there were also a lot of locals who had never seen the light of day. Either they were too afraid of the sewer tunnels they''d need to traverse to reach the outside world or the surface itself, or they were perfectly content with their underground home. Both kinds of individuals existed, and both counted people who thought going after Silhouette was a good idea. The number of people with such beliefs drastically dropped. All of these preparations brought James to this day. Silhouette, standing tall, going over the last details of their opening ceremony with his scientist, his two oldest humanoid employees, their celestial teacher, and that otherworldly entity''s human master who also happened to be James'' benefactor, for better or worse. Polisson was also present as well as a familiar black pair of a goblin shaman and an eyeless bipedal wolf, but those three were here to manage security and nothing more. The lizardman and the ratkin waiting in the corner were just here to serve as assistants. Their presence wasn''t necessary and frankly went unnoticed. Larry and Barry were on edge around Blake, understandably so considering both the man''s fortune compared to their upbringing and his family history, but Nanyet''s teachings proved to be effective as they stayed professional and continued to participate in the discussion, regardless of how much their knees shook. Decanov, as usual, was unimpressed by anyone other than himself. Still, he wanted to make sure his work was presented properly. This would be the first time Decanov''s contribution to a project would be fully attributed to him without any incident prompting a former employer to blame their latest mishap on him, and he wanted to ensure everything went well. James thought he''d be more nervous. If anything, he felt pretty serene. Oh, he knew undoubtedly someone would try something and there''d probably be a big fight, but right now? Right now, he was ready for this. Chapter 170 : Opening day Quite the crowd had amassed for the event of the day. A shop''s opening day wouldn''t usually be this popular. Even if a good ad campaign could bring in the same numbers, people wouldn''t be this invested in it as they were now. No, the reason why quite a substantial part of those gathered were journalists wielding mics and cameras was the identity of the man in charge: Silhouette. These past few weeks had seen the complete unknown become the talk of the town. Though his rise to fame had begun with his killing of the Nightsnatcher, the mysterious creature that had been plaguing the city for months now, more information had trickled down to the masses and fuelled the rumors. Silhouette killed the Nightsnatcher. Silhouette caught the eye of the Hero Union. Silhouette is a friend of Blake Black. Silhouette hired Ivan Decanov. Silhouette took down a crime lord in the slums. Silhouette got in a fight with Abrakaboom and survived. Silhouette is an ally of the mysterious Duskenfer hermit. Silhouette threatened a known con artist. Silhouette pays his employees well. Silhouette is surrounded by strange armored people. Silhouette has an expanding influence on the slums. The inhabitants of Zalcien weren''t the brightest in the world. It wasn''t a secret. Their city was ultimately just another member of the Alliance of City States, likely one of the most forgettable ones at that. They weren''t even bad enough to be worth remembering. They were just perfectly below average at everything. Yet, for all their flaws, the people of Zalcien were still people. They weren''t blind. They had a history. And they were familiar with this turn of events. They had seen their share of incredible stories. Of Heroes. Of Villains. Of Vigilantes. Of monsters. A myth was brewing. A legend was beginning. If Silhouette''s ascension wasn''t cut early, he would likely grow to become one of the important persons in the city. One of those whose decisions affected all of their lives. The question then, was what kind of legend would he become? Maybe not the next Sunburn. Maybe not the next Mecha Man. Especially not the next Natrashka. But the next Mister Marley? The next Firefighter? The next Decanov? Silhouette didn''t need to dethrone one of those at the apex of their little world to change their life. Something as simple as granting every citizen the means to defend themselves the lowest of ruffians would be enough to save lives, to prevent events that would ultimately result in great tragedies. They all knew this. If Silhouette chose to only continue the plans they had shared with the public, this would be enough to change the city, no matter how minor the difference felt. But already the rumors whispered in the dark, even now in the crowd, told of greater plans. Why was Silhouette in the slums? Why bother with such a good reputation? Could it be he was trying to reform the parts of Zalcien that all others had given up on? Among those gathered today was a familiar duo. A toned man in a dapper dark green suit accompanied by a woman in blue overalls with a large camera on her shoulder, a halo of golden light floating above her curly ginger hair. He watched the front door of the shop impatiently, an excited smile on his face. The deadpan expression of his colleague showed she wasn''t quite as enthusiastic about the situation as he was. "This is a big scoop in the making, Vicky! I can feel it!" She sighed as her cousin repeated his usual catchphrase. "I know, Victor. That''s why the boss sent us here. Because we were already familiar with the guy." "I told you I had a good feeling about him! We got the exclusive post-Abrakaboom interview by following my guts!" "Yes. And I have a feeling if you hadn''t behaved, he''d have spilled your guts." "Nonsense! Silhouette is a law-abiding citizen, he would never attack a journalist!" She wasn''t convinced. If Victor had what she had to admit were good journalistic instincts, she got the sixth sense required to keep the idiot alive. His gut may have been telling him Silhouette was a juicy scoop, something she couldn''t deny, but hers was screaming to stay away. The silent guards in black armor carrying impressive weaponry didn''t help feel her at ease either. She''d done her research, too. She had looked into the rumors surrounding the mysterious shadow man. He appeared in a small bar in the area known to be home to plenty of dubious individuals to threaten a scammer who supposedly tried to pull one over him multiple times. The horned bartender she interrogated about the event shared with her that Silhouette had dropped by a second time. Neither had been pleasant, according to him. What he shared about the events sent chills down her spine. She had no desire to get on the bad side of something that could turn someone''s own shadow into a weapon or who could effortlessly play with crooks like that. "Just promise me you won''t do anything stupid." "Of course I won''t! When have I ever led us astray?" That wasn''t anywhere close to reassuring as he thought it was. "Don''t ask anything too stupid. Be nice. Take any threat of violence as a sign to end the conversation." "Vicky, please. This isn''t my first rodeo." "Alright. What do you plan on saying if he picks you out of the crowd?" "I will ask him how he feels..." "Yes..." "If he''s happy with the crowd gathered here today..." "Continue..." "If he could give us a summary of his products..." "Yes..." "What his plans for the future of his business are..." "Yes..." "And if he''d like to comment on the various rumors surrounding him and his group!" She took in a deep breath, her halo rising higher along with the act. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. "Alright. Okay. That''s fine. Just be sure to be very diplomatic with that last one, otherwise it''d sound like a taunt." Victor rolled his eyes. "Come on, I know how to do my job. You don''t hear me telling you how to use a camera." "Vic, if I let you touch my baby, it''d likely fall to pieces." "Exactly! Similarly, you''re not a reporter. So trust me to play my part like I trust you to do yours." She had a few choice words she was ready to share. Fortunately for the sake of their relationship, a new development arose before she could let her tongue run wild. The door of the shop opened with a loud bang, a flood of dark mist billowing out to fill the street up to the crowd''s knees. Many among the gathered shivered as panic found a foothold in their heart, even the few police officers in uniforms here to monitor the event couldn''t help but put their hands on their weapons. A noteworthy exception was a pair in the back, a human officer accompanying a tall humanoid reptile wearing a coat over her uniform. She calmly drank from the cup of coffee in her taloned grasp, though her gaze never left the shop''s entrance. There, the darkness began to shift. It began to rotate. To turn. To spiral. Second by second a small tornado of shadows grew before shifting into something more comprehensible. An oval featureless head framed by two wide shoulders ending in impressive spikes broke through the dark as all movement stilled, the black winds winding back down, their host''s body slimming as a result. Silhouette had just made his appearance. The shadows hadn''t twisted just to introduce their master. The mist flowed and rearranged itself, leaving the crowd behind to coalesce into a podium for Silhouette to address them all. Suddenly some among the journalistic crowd shouted in surprise. They found themselves missing some mics, and it only took a few seconds for them to realize they had been taken and incorporated into the newly-made stage, their equipment popping out against the solid black mass. A tendril rose from the podium as Silhouette took position behind the lectern, the limb gently adjusting the mics a final time before the man spoke. "Have no worries, all items will be returned to their rightful owners at the end of this little conference. I simply wished to save us all some time." Technicians grumbled but at this point, there was nothing they could do. "Now, with this detail out of the way, let me properly welcome you all here today. I am Silhouette, and I am delighted to welcome you to my Penumbral Palace. Here you will find products destined to help you protect yourself and your family from many of the potential threats that roam Zalcien." Tentacles split off from the podium to gesture to the building in question. "While this wonderful city we all call home has quite a wonderful repertoire of Heroes and brave guardians of the law, they are not guaranteed to always arrive on time. This is where our catalog will help you. I would like to note that while any item meant for self-defense poses some degree of inherent potential danger that made this facility require numerous permits, we have toiled to ensure all products on our shelves can be used without the need for any permit of any sort. For this, I have to thank a special someone who took it upon themself to help us to the best of their ability. Allow me to introduce, Blake Black." In a burst of blue light, the banker in a black suit and his loyal Celestial Nanyet appeared to the side of Silhouette''s podium. The human smiled and waved at the crowd while his accompanier stayed still, preferring to stick to the background despite their impressive height. "Blake Black has been a wonderful help in setting up this facility. I do wish to emphasize though to all present that his assistance has been exactly and only that, nothing more. I am in no way officially affiliated with the Black Bank, I am merely one of their users. Shades Of Penumbra is a fully independent company." Blake spoke out from his side, a scroll held high in his hand. "I have my official signed statement on paper, copies will be freely distributed to all interested parties." Silhouette nodded before continuing. "While Blake Black has helped Shades Of Penumbra be ready for this day, there is one man I must thank above all. Without him, none of this would be possible. He is the one who allowed this abandoned factory to return to glory, better than it ever was. I am also glad to announce that he has recently signed a long-term contract to continue working for our company and help develop our future. Inhabitants of Zalcien, you likely know him well. Doctor Ivan Decanov." The mechanical scientist and engineer entrance wasn''t quite as dramatic as the previous two arrivals, though that isn''t to say it was quiet either. As he casually walked out of the shop''s dark interior, various previously hidden pieces of machinery revealed themselves across the walls and rooftops of the facility. Turrets of all shapes and sizes sprouted like mushrooms, with muzzles as diverse as the rest of their frame. The defenses twirled on themselves and aimed at nothing in the air, performing a salute of sorts to their creator as he took place at Silhouette''s side, opposite of the bank duo. Once more a hint of a wave of panic spread throughout the crowd, though at this point it was heavily diluted. You could only make so many dramatic entrances, no matter how different from one another, before the surprise ran out. The Draskian robot looked at the people. It felt like a glare, but given the fact that the only parts of his face that could move were his eyebrows and his square pupils, it was hard to be certain. The only certainty was that his impressive eyebrows were perfectly flat as he watched over them all. "While Doctor Decanov isn''t the lead designer of our line of products, he is the one who outfitted this facility with all the necessary equipment for defense and production. Now that he has fully become a member of the team, I can assure you his genius mind will be involved in future creations to help improve your lives. Sadly said original designer couldn''t attend, but he was more than happy to let his brilliant colleague represent him today." The doctor rolled his eyes. An incredibly unprofessional gesture, but knowing his reputation, the fact he didn''t audibly scoff or interrupt the speech to insult this so-called colleague was already a miracle, something many among the gathered recognized. "While our dear doctor has made his disinterest in gadgets clear, his designs can still be put to use to be shared with the citizens of Zalcien. While the project is far from finished, he has allowed to share that he is currently working on a portable emergency generator, one that can easily be attached to any existing electrical system and just as easily removed." A few hands rose in the crowd. "Ah, I can see you''re already bursting with questions. I must ask you however to refrain for now. You will have your time soon, I simply wish to finish this introduction first so shoppers uninterested in those topics may go make their purchases sooner. I do have to make a profit at some point." Some chuckled at the joke. Only some. "Ah, I can see impatience gaining on you, so I will make the rest of this short. Without further ado, let me introduce the last of the most important people in a store: the vendors! Larry and Barry Harrison!" This time, the only noteworthy thing about their entrance was how normal it was. The brothers simply stepped out of the shop, much like the scientist had done, but this time there was no accompanying dance of weapons to make the casual actions any more impressive than it truly was. The men were somewhat eye-catching thanks to their opposite black and white suits and physiques, one tall and lanky while the other was short and stout. Even their pilosity was inverted aside from its black coloration, the shorter one being bald aside from a pair of impressive mutton chops whereas the taller one had long hair and a small goatee. Sadly for them, they simply couldn''t match the sheer presence that all of those who came before them shared. Particularly perceptive members of the crowds noted that the pair appeared to both be hybrids of elf and dwarf, with each taking more after a part of their ancestry than the other, but that particular genetic oddity while rare couldn''t equal the infamy of a Draskian robot or of a historical rich manipulative family or the mystery of a living shadow. Though they looked calm and collected, the few beads of sweat on their heads showed they weren''t quite as confident as the other participants of the event, or at the very least not quite as adept at masking their nervousness. The duo took place at Silhouette''s side as well, placing themselves between their leader and Blake Black. The most attentive in the crowd realized the true meaning of the gesture: while Blake was Silhouette''s ally, he wasn''t truly part of the group. He was a guest of honor, but a guest nonetheless. "Now, normally I would go on and describe each of the products available. Given your impatience, however, I believe it would be best to skip this step. As such, allow me to officially announce the opening of Shades of Penumbra''s Penumbral Palace!" Cheers and claps rose, though mostly more out of politeness than genuine adoration. "Now, this conference will take a short break. Journalists and all interested in continuing this event, I invite you to follow me to the facility''s inner court. Shoppers, I leave you in the trustworthy hands of the Harrison brothers and their hired help. To all others, I wish you a good day. Now, before you rush inside and empty our shelves, just give our managers a moment to reunite with our staff. To celebrate this opening event, all purchases will come with a ten percent discount and every client will receive a commemoratory pin." This time there were more genuine cheers. There was also someone with a knife. Chapter 171 : Among the crowd Among those gathered for the Penumbral Palace''s opening day was a shifty figure, covered from head to toe in baggy clothes, with a hood, a bandana, and a cap further hiding away their identity. They had been idly playing with something in their hoodie''s front pouch during Silhouette''s entire speech, and now that it was over and the people were ready to enter the shop and make their purchases or follow the shadow man to ask him more questions, the subject of that idle play was revealed. The hooded figure took out a metal stick that with a click revealed a blade as they rushed forward. Those in the crowd close enough to see what was happening screamed as soon as their brain processed the information, but the attacker''s mad dash was so fast that by that point the armed figure was already gone. The hooded figure leaped into the air, their chrome knife raised and ready to stab down into Silhouette''s body. It was only at that moment that all present realized the threat and panic truly spread. The attacker bounced off a translucent dark wall. The figure rolled as they fell to the ground, stabilizing themself for a second charge, but before they could try anything else Barry raised his arm and pressed the trigger of the strange blocky weapon in his hand. Electricity fired off. The bolt had no trouble hitting the attacker and knocked them back, leaving them twitching on the ground as a rat tail slipped from their clothes. Still, the panic persisted until Silhouette spoke. "Calm down, everyone. This was a planned demonstration. As you can see, the police officers present were informed of this little act beforehand." True to his word, the keepers of the law in uniform, though ready to act, seemed unperturbed by what first appeared to be an assassination attempt. Seeing that, the rest of the crowd did calm down, though there was a sense of tension that hadn''t been present before. "I figured you would be bored by this point, and so I devised this performance. My apologies for the stress it may have caused. However, I would like to point out that while our attacker is one of my employees and no one was in any danger at any point, all items used were real. Doctor, if you would." Decanov rolled his eyes as he stepped closer and picked up the knife that had fallen some distance away from the still-twitching ratkin before presenting the weapon to the attentive crowd. Silhouette continued. "An ordinary switchblade, one that any ruffian aiming to threaten or kill you could use. While it would have not affected me, a flesh and blood body could have suffered critical damage. No matter how minor the weapon, a good hit on a bad spot can spell your demise." The scientist retracted the blade before tossing it at Larry, the taller of the brothers easily catching it before unleashing its cutting edge again. "Though the automatic shield we brought for this demonstration easily blocked the attack, it isn''t the sole method of defense we sell that could have taken care of it. Our patented electroshield is intended to handle rare but powerful hits rather than the numerous light attacks an individual with such a blade would use. The shield does consume quite a bit of energy at every activation, after all. Hence, our alternative to such situations. Larry, if you would." The man dressed in black and white nodded before plunging the knife directly into his heart. He tried to, anyway. He did take a step back from the force of the impact on his chest, but that was all. The blade bent and slipped before escaping Larry''s grasp, letting it fall to the ground with a new obvious curve that ruined its use as a weapon. The only hint Larry had just tried to stab himself was the small black scratch on his otherwise white vest. "Reinforced clothing. This isn''t padded leather or anything of the sort, rather the cloth itself is reinforced through a special process, keeping it as light as ever. We propose a few items of clothing made from this material, but I won''t deny they aren''t quite as stylish as you might wish. Our expertise lies in self-defense, not fashion. To solve this problem, we offer to sell this reinforced cloth directly. Do note, however, that due to the nature of this material, we will monitor its buyers and the quantity of this product they acquire and share this list with the authorities. These were made to protect the Zalcien, not give its bad elements the means to defend themselves." Larry tried to rub the black line on his suit off only for his brother to elbow him as a reminder to act professional. "As you can see, while the cloth is hard to damage, it is marked by attacks. This is a flaw I cannot deny. However, the piece of clothing is as solid as ever. We are currently working on a system to remove these marks, as soon as it is fully developed it will be made available for free to all customers. Frankly, I think quite a few will prefer to keep them, treating them as ''scars'' as it were." He waited a moment to take in everyone''s reaction. While the police had been informed of the demonstration, the content of the speech itself was new to them. While the crowd was amazed enough by the items displayed to get over the earlier panic, it was clear the officers were particularly interested in this cloth. Bulletproof material was effective against guns but wasn''t as protective when it came to bladed weapons. Similarly, armor meant to protect from knives wouldn''t block firearms. Both were bulky vestments so they couldn''t be worn together, but with Silhouette''s fabric? The tall lizard woman at the back of the crowd with a coat over her uniform looked at Silhouette''s militia in a new light. Those fancy black armored combat suits weren''t just here to scare away intruders or build a sense of uniformity. The bodysuit that made the base of their clothing was likely made from this fabric and the armored pieces on top of that probably were bulletproof. With her keen gaze, she even spotted the runes on the guard closest to her. Considering the trend, those were sure to block magic. Maybe there were a few enhancements on top of that, but Inspector Vanille''s instinct told her Silhouette had prioritized defense over fancy tricks. Her reptilian eyes narrowed. Private guards being better equipped than official emergency units was sadly common across the globe, but usually, those belonged to big and established fancy groups, not folks who appeared out of nowhere. Silhouette might be in a partnership of sorts with their local Black, but Vanille could tell this wasn''t where those came from. The Black family was widespread and each branch manager was essentially left to do as they pleased so long as they didn''t interfere in the bank''s business. Blake Black didn''t have a fancy paramilitary group at his beck and call, he only had his crows and his Celestial assistant. He could have called in reinforcements from someone he was close to in the family, but this didn''t fit his usual behavior. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. The inspector took another sip of her coffee. Silhouette had something going on, that she was sure of. People didn''t pop up out of nowhere with odd tech and armed forces by being regular citizens. She already had reports on his activities in the slums, she knew he was familiar with operating in the grey area of the law. But, Vanille was no naive girl. She was a grown woman and an experienced officer who knew that legality and morality were not always synonymous and that sometimes, they were better off with dubious people keeping crime down their way. Some folks knew how to play with the law, and seeing them take a punch from folks who didn''t care about rules always put a smile on her face. In the privacy of her mind, that is. She knew how to stay cool. She spared a glance at Cooper next to her. They had discussed this Silhouette situation before coming, ever since they learned about the event and were officially contacted by the shadow man to monitor the situation and prevent unwelcomed guests from making a mess. He didn''t agree with her on everything, but on this, they could agree: they were better off with Silhouette in the area and enforcing peace in the slums for now. Criminality in the surroundings of this Penumbral Palace had drastically lowered, and from what their eyes in the slums told the folks there were better off with Silhouette around. He kept the usual crime lords away, provided the people with the means to defend themselves from troublemakers, and the relatively high wages of his employees gave the local economy a good boost. They just had to hope he would continue the trend of speaking softly while carrying a big stick. He''d been behaved so far and taking care of the Nightsnatcher was a great help to the city, but there was no guarantee he would keep it up. They didn''t need a new Xenocorp on their hands. At least he was sticking to his self-defense shtick and his claim of an offer to help the police with their equipment was true and not a PR stunt. Farther away from the duo of officers was a rather bland person with a bowler hat. They had no special feelings on the matter at hand, but the individual watching the event through the camera hidden in the piece of clothing on top of their head was far from serene. Alan Leone, scientist extraordinaire with a youthful face and old hair, neither of which matched his true age, was on the verge of ripping out that very same hair. Ever since Mister Marley had gotten wind of the possibility Project Null might have survived and been picked up by a foreign party, he had the bioweapon''s creator monitoring the situation. It was a waste of the scientist''s expertise, keeping him away from his usual work, but considering the circumstances his experience with the escaped experiment was likely the better choice. It also spared the man from taking care of the highly unethical Project Thanatos under his rival''s orders as he had as a punishment since Project Null escaped, but it was hard to appreciate that fact with the risk at hand. Alan nervously drummed his fingers on his desk as he continued to stare at his screen. At first, he had held onto the belief that there was no chance this Sihlouette could be related to Project Null. He knew for a fact his creation spent all of its life force escaping. It couldn''t have survived. The only possibility was someone finding it and repurposing it. And this Silhouette? Though he had appeared out of nowhere, he had done so away from Null''s last known location. Project Null was a passion project to mix the Aspects, but its official purpose to satisfy Xenocorp''s investors for these secret experiments was for it to act as an infiltration drone of sorts. As such, it had been designed to self-destruct on death in such a way it could leave nothing behind, no hint to track or material to reverse engineer its creation. Now? That belief, one that had he held onto for the sake of his sanity, had crumbled. He doubted Silhouette was truly Project Null itself as Mister Marley feared, he was far too human and civilized for that, but everything pointed to him being related to the lab experiment in some way. The worst possible outcome then would be that Project Null survived and this Silhouette found some way to control it remotely. It would certainly fit in with the material yet ethereal nature of the man. But Alan had his doubts. They had failed to find a way to control their creation, how could someone who just stumbled upon it figure it out? The scientist gulped as a possibility came to mind. What if Silhouette had exchanged his physical form with Null? The process was incredibly rare and complex under most circumstances, but considering the bioweapon''s abilities, could it be that its Transformation Aspect streamlined the transition? Alan and his team had avoided experimenting with souls, not only were none of them well-versed on the matter but they all found it distasteful at best, but his recent time spent around Project Thanatos had given him new insights. Yes. The abomination''s ability to absorb the souls of its victims and use them as parts to upgrade itself could in some way be used to control it. Make the original mindless, program it correctly, and ensure the first soul to be absorbed is strong-willed and you may successfully transplant a human soul into a new form. It was far too late for Project Thanatos, it had already developed somewhat of a personality and was already far too used to its diet to hope and place someone new in control of it, but with a near-dead Project Null? Alan''s gaze on the screen went from the living shadow to those standing around it. Ivan Decanov may be a scientist, but it was highly unlikely he could figure out how to manipulate Project Null. The Draskian robot was an engineer, not someone dedicated to Aspects like Leone was. The store managers weren''t worth mentioning. No, those who truly got Alan''s attention were the last pair, though they were the most distant from Silhouette for his little presentation. Blake Black and Nanyet. They could be the ones who had snatched up Project Null, kept it alive, and then pawned it off to this Silhouette. But why? They would have benefited much more from giving it back to Xenocorp. Alan would have figured out a way to produce more of them reliably and how to properly train them. Instead of a guaranteed loyal group, the Black Bank manager chose a single free-willed individual. Why? Yes, thinking about it further, it just made no sense for them to give Silhouette an incomplete Project Null and support him rather than handing it back to Mister Marley to have Alan and his team finish it. And even if this Silhouette had been the one to come to them with it under his control, they could just have taken it. No, it was far more logical that Silhouette didn''t have the true Project Null, at least not in a functioning state. It was more likely that if anything was left of it, it was barely enough to serve as the core of the man''s new tech. His powers showed great similitude to the bioweapons and the captors included in the spy hat showed he did have some form of connection to all nine Aspects, but this could have been achieved by developing different items who each copied a different part of Project Null. it would also explain the fact they had reports of Silhouette being in different places at the same time. Yes. Yes! That was it! Silhouette wasn''t the shadowy figure but someone controlling it. The figure was most likely some sort of slime Transformed in some way by the remains of Project Null. Those slime copies were probably flawed, necessitating further modifications to get closer to Project Null''s original potential, and those fully upgraded served as Silhouette''s proxies. It all made sense. That original sample was used as the core of their tech as some sort of corruptive power source and everything else was developed from that. Decanov may not be an Aspect or bioweapons expert, but someone of his caliber could fashion some way to draw power from a powerful energy-charged item. Even the official statement of Shades Of Penumbra was that he was uninvolved in the developments of the gadgets didn''t go against this theory. After all, such a device couldn''t be a mere gadget. And with something like that in hand, any somewhat competent tinkerer could figure out some fancy toys. Of course, while Alan believed this second theory wholeheartedly, he would still share the first more pessimistic one with Mister Marley as well. He already was in hot waters with his boss, he''d rather not further ruin their poor relationship by only giving him the more optimistic possibility. That was a surefire way to be heavily punished if he turned out to be wrong, and he''d rather not be the next one in Project Thanatos'' pen. Alan stared at the screen as the people began to move. Silhouette and his associates disappeared into the store, the podium with numerous mics still embedded in it following and squeezing its way inside as well. Minutes later, the crowd began to enter as well, their hat-wearing spy included. Alan could only hope some of the journalists'' questions would bring answers to his own. Chapter 172 : Questions and answers "Again, I will not elaborate on my place of birth." "But-" "If you insist any further I will have you removed from the conference." The reporter who had been trying to get James to tell everything about his origins closed her mouth. It had been a little over fifteen minutes now since he officially began the second part of the conference for his opening day. No longer were they standing around in the street, instead the entire group was now in the inner court of the Penumbral Palace. Well, those that had stayed were. Larry and Barry had returned to the shop to manage the influx of people who were here solely to buy his products and had stuck through his initial speech only because it would mark the opening of the store. While half of the crowd was gone, what remained was still impressive. Not to mention, those were the ones truly curious about Silhouette and his activities. Despite the loss in quantity, the group as a whole was just as focused on him as before, perhaps even more so since now they were free to ask questions. While the first few ones had been polite nothing to start off the event peacefully, this particular journalist had quickly annoyed him. "Alright, next. You, the one with the green knitted cap." "Phil Flashpoint, here for Channel 7. What brought you to start a self-defense emporium?" "While it might sound a little clich¨¦, to help others. I am well aware I am lucky when it comes to my biology, but this is the exact reason why I wanted to make Shades Of Penumbra. Not everyone is lucky enough to be Cored, to be confident they could fend off the average attacker. After all, civilians are much more at risk of being stabbed by a drug addict than being disintegrated by a Villain, and sadly the police despite their best efforts are often unable to act in time in such emergencies. They simply lack the resources the Hero Union has access to, which is perfectly understandable. Budgets are finite things, and taking care of maniacs with nukes rightfully takes priority over petty thieves or pet poisoners." James paused. "Truth be told, although I wish to keep my private life separate from my business, I will admit I know well the threat a simple man with a knife can pose. How a perfectly mundane person with a mere kitchen utensil can permanently alter or destroy a life. These are the people I wish to help you defend against." "So your products are aimed at Non-Cored customers?" "Yes, they are the immediate market, but that isn''t to say that Cored folks are unwelcomed. Not everyone has the safety of stone skin or a natural electromagnetic barrier. Those whose powers are unfit to help them defend themselves or even those who do and simply wish for another layer of security are free to use our products as well. Next, you with the red mohawk." "Aren''t you afraid your products may be used by the very same people you wish to protect against?" "That was one of my worries, yes. That is why we heavily monitor the potential harm these items may cause. Anything found too dangerous isn''t released or is altered to fit the criteria we set ourselves as well as the limits offered by the permits granted us. As it is, the only items we sell that are liable to cause harm are our electroguns, whose output has been carefully tuned to only stun with lower chances of cardiovascular arrest than tasers, and our batons which, despite their increased durability, are no more dangerous than those already available on the market. Metal pipes would make for better lethal weapons." "What of your reinforced clothing and shields?" "They are means of defense. Yes, I won''t deny that some ruffians will likely get their hands on them as well in hopes of overwhelming the police. I trust our brave officers are equipped well enough to overcome lawful items, and if not that they will accept my offer to upgrade their gear. Not with our publicly available items but those that proved too effective to be made legally available to the masses." A humanoid hammerhead shark yelled at that, blatantly ignoring the rules that had been set earlier on journalists only being allowed to speak one at a time. "Is that related to the pillar of darkness that appeared some time ago?" Hushed whispers quickly spread. "I don''t think I authorized you to speak." Black smoke emerged from the shark''s shadow, slowly spinning around him like tendrils up to his chest, leaving openings in their rotation to show he was unharmed beneath. "But, since I know this will be a subject many of you are curious about, I will answer the question. Yes, I was, in a way, responsible for this event. I wish to formally apologize for the trouble it may have caused, but allow me to explain the circumstances." The reporters weren''t the only ones who gave Silhouette their attention. The police officers and various spies in the crowd too were fully focused on him. "It is no secret we have some facilities in the slums. I used these holdings to look for possible talents, as well as possibly establish trading relationships with those I deem suitable. There, my lawful activities caught the attention of a member of Wicked Witchcraft. After multiple skirmishes between his thugs and my hired help, it all culminated in an attack on one of my holdings. Due to the dire circumstances, experimental weapons had to be fired, and one of them wound up causing this pillar of darkness. Rest assured, this particular device was deemed too dangerous for use." The shark began to open his mouth but the gaseous darkness enveloping him quickly muffled him. "To those of you who may be worried about this man attacking this establishment and endangering our customers, worry not. This particular mage lost all of his resources in the climax of our conflict and fled the city. While some members of the cabal have expressed a desire to attack me, I was informed by a high-ranking member that the troublemaker I was faced was a recluse, and as such the group as a whole didn''t care overly much. The fact Abrakaboom passed by to hear my version of the story and I still live is proof enough that this mess is over." Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. James paused again. "As for the mage''s hired thugs, I took it upon myself to help reinsert them in society. They continue their former operations with an improved wage under the close surveillance of my more trusted employees, to ensure they will never again cause problems to Zalcien or its inhabitants, regardless of the place they call home. To elaborate, we will occasionally stock runic items along with our usual merchandise. Due to the difficulties associated with mass-producing magical goods, this stock won''t be constant, so remember to drop by at the beginning of each month. To better represent our normally available products, no runic items will be for sale today nor until next month." The tendrils pulled up the shark to show him to all present before gently carrying him over the store''s roof, depositing him back on the street. "Before I pick the next question, remember to only speak when allowed to." One might have expected the crowd of journalists to calm down after seeing one of their colleagues treated like this, but quite the opposite happened. Since they couldn''t leech onto others'' questions, they needed to be the ones to be picked. Cries and shouts echoed until shadows pulsed, reminding the noisy lot to behave. Finally, a blonde woman with a lone metallic antenna poking out of the top of her curly hair got her turn. "Clarisse Clark. Mister Silhouette, I noticed you employed Ivan Decanov despite his infamous streak. Could you elaborate on this decision?" "Doctor Decanov is a hardworking man with an impressive intellect and ruthless efficiency. I am aware of past incidents involving him, but so far I have nothing to complain about. That''s why I offered him a long-term contract, one he has accepted. Perhaps all along the best way to handle a scientist of his caliber was to pay him properly and give him credit for his developments?" He chuckled. "Perhaps the man himself would like to pitch in as well?" She turned her gaze to the Draskian robot standing to the side, and one of the mics that had so far been embedded in the lectern broke off, carried by a tentacle that became a stand right next to the mechanical man. "Doctor, would you like to add anything to your employer''s statement?" He scoffed. "Silhouette pays well, respects my decisions, offers a generous work schedule, is willing to research more than the next generation of toasters, and doesn''t try to steal my projects and credit himself for their success. Do I need to say more?" Chatters increased among the reporters. Ivan Decanov had never been so supportive of one of his employers. He had gone through an entire sentence without complaining about Silhouette! "Alright. Next... What is that horrid shirt?" The woman he pointed out of the crowd looked down at her pink see-through shirt with polka dots of fur and scales before shrugging, the simple grey vest she had been wearing previously still in hand. "Got your attention, didn''t it? Wilma Magneti. Usually, folks specialize in either technology or magic, and those who dabble in both combine them. Should we expect magitech from Shades Of Penumbra soon, or is there another reason for this diversity?" "Ah. Truth be told, I am no miracle worker. Without the fantastical work of my employees, the Penumbral Palace would have never come to be. The reason why we propose both magical and technological items is because circumstances gave me the means to do both. Had it not been for my conflict with that loose element from Wicked Witchcraft and the subsequent hostile takeover of his remaining holdings, these runic items wouldn''t be sold here. Similarly, without the hard work of our inventor, neither would our main contraptions. We lean towards technology as of now because that is the field our current experts prefer, I am more than open to the idea of diversifying further so long as someone trustworthy and experienced with magic or biology or any other domain joins the team." "Is that a job offer?" Silhouette paused and slightly raised his head, openly considering the question. "Well, I would be loathe to deny a soul with potential the possibility of showing the world what they''re capable of. However, I do suffer from a tragic trust issue. I met my first employees by chance, but circumstances forged a strong bond between us. I sought Decanov because I knew a man like him would rise to the challenge, and he further earned my trust and respect through the time we spent together during his initial short-term contract." Blake Black, discreetly sitting at the side on a luminal construct formed by Nanyet, let a smug smile form on his lips. "I have found my business built through the efforts of the unloved. Those denied a chance. The nobodies and the paria. I know them well for I am myself part of the group. This isn''t quite the face of the neighborhood Hero, after all. I won''t deny part of what makes them so reliable is their loyalty to those who give them this chance they never had, but that isn''t all they have for them. Decanov is a genius only held back by his infamy and admittedly prickly attitude." The robot scoffed but didn''t interrupt. "My inventor was born in the slums. Despite the poor conditions, his potential still bloomed by building gadgets out of scraps that let him not only live but grow strong enough to defend others until he met something that no child should face. He didn''t take the failure as a sign to give up, but an encouragement to aim and soar even higher." Tendrils formed and pointed back to the store. "The Penumbral Palace''s managers were born and raised in the slums as well. Forced to haggle their way through life, to bend the knee before those stronger than them. Look at them now, kind to their workers, even those who once bullied them. They now stand side by side with figures like Blake Black. And most importantly of all, when Supers came and threatened to undo all we had built together, they stood strong and fought back. Given the chance and the means to act, they saved lives and proved they were great men." The tendrils retracted back into the podium. "Those are the people I wish to hire. The downtrodden, the meek, the helpless. Those who have been held back all their life. They are the ones I seek because I know when they are rendered free, when nothing stops them from completing their dreams, they will be so much greater than any other." He paused. "If this isn''t enough to convince you, we also offer generous salaries, a flexible schedule, lodging, and guaranteed weekly pastries." Now James just had to hope someone somewhere would be inspired by all that and show up to his doorstep for a job and that they would actually turn out to be anywhere near the level of Techlord or Decanov. His pretty words were meant to inspire, but he knew not everyone would wind up becoming the next Shadow Commando when given the chance. The group who used to man the warehouse never showed the same sort of potential. He wasn''t delusionally thinking the rough was made of diamond, just looking for gems beneath the toxic sludge none dared to approach. "Next, the man with the butterfly glasses." "Moth glasses actually, but thank you. Philibert Fink, I wanted to note the overwhelming number of male employees under you. Is there a reason behind this?" "Well, as I''ve just said, so far most of my recruits were chance encounters. Just like I''m not opposed to diversity in my products, the same goes for my workforce. I will hire anyone so long as they behave appropriately, regardless of gender, sexuality, species, origin, or state of existence." "State of existence?" "Undead and the like. If they are still sane and sapient, they are as welcome as any living creature." "Ah, thank you for the clarification." "No problem." James paused again, this time not out of a sense of theatrics but because of something very different. He had been expecting one of his enemies to make some kind of move today, and nothing had happened so far. The keyword here was "so far". One of his latest body doubles was pulling at their connection, asking for his attention. The one stationed in the building that had once been Mother Greenheld''s orphanage. In all likelihood, someone was attacking the Shadow Den. Chapter 173 : Attack on the orphanage Knowing some kind of emergency was happening back at the Shadow Den tempted James to just rush off and head down to the depths. However, he knew better. This could be a trap, a diversion to lure him away from the Penumbral Palace. Thankfully, he knew exactly how he could check on what was happening back in the Sunken City. "That will be all for today from me. I''ll let Mister Black and Doctor Decanov decide if they wish to continue any further." The black podium he had been using burst into black tendrils that brought the borrowed mics back to their respective owners. At the same time, James let himself fall and disappeared into the cold black ground on the inner court, vanishing from view under the shocked eyes and gasping mouths of the crowd. The Penumbral Palace was heavily infused, as were all of James'' holdings, but this one took a step further by having his transformative mark run much deeper than the rest. That is to say, there probably was more shadowy material underground than on the property proper, and that was quite the feat. Safely hidden in the core of this bunker accessible only to ephemeral beings, James focused on his connection to the calling body double and answered. As with all things relating to the mind, their discussion didn''t involve words, but rather memories, sensations, concepts, deductions, and pure knowledge. James asked the body double why it called. They were being attacked, as James expected. Although the Infused didn''t feel much by default, they were still capable of expressing the urgency and danger of a situation. The cool of his fleshy clone showed that the situation was under control. James asked if they needed his help. No, it was unnecessary. The forces stationed at the former orphanage could handle it. They had simply agreed on the fact that the clone would be the best way to inform him rather than their usual phone calls, their link permitting more to be shared. Again, James could sense from the body double''s recollection of that particular conversation that the Shadow Commando and the nuns weren''t panicking or afraid. Who was attacking? This time what was shared was much more tangible. Visions of creatures and monsters of all kinds. Mutated beasts with no logic to their composition. Aberations. Their number of limbs varied, many sporting an odd amount, some covered in skin and others in scales or fur or feathers. Some were silent as they stumbled on and others were screeching madly as they ran only to be put down by a bullet in the forehead. All in all, it was a chaotic menagerie with no consistent pattern aside from their randomness and strangeness. That last bit was what aroused suspicion to James. While he had done his fair bit of cleaning up the abandoned city around his territory by purging dangerous beasts and had his people patrol the area, he could understand some creatures surviving somehow and attacking his home for one reason or another. Even their bizarre appearances somewhat fit in with the Sunken City, the area being home to some questionable substances and radiations in some parts that could cause quite the disfigurement. But for all of these seemingly random creatures to all work together - or at least not eat one another in the process - to attack his base? No, that wasn''t chance or some bout of madness brought by starvation. Those things were being led there. With such a mismatch of creatures, he could see two reasonable suspects. Either this was the work of the Biflora, in retaliation for James taking out his little spies, or this was the Patcher finally deciding to act, bored of waiting for James to take the bait and go and meet him. James asked his clone about the monsters'' reactions to shadows. In response, he got to see some sort of giant scorpion with a tree instead of a stinger crackle and spasms as it received the onslaught of multiple fully powered electroguns, its dark chitinous exoskeleton losing its natural luster as the bark of its attached plant blackened as though rotting, starting from the roots embedded in its thorax and spreading to the rest of the tree until even its very leaves lost all color, all the while shadows turned into electricity continued to rampage through its form, a strange whistling echoing from its crazed head as other beasts began to climb over it to get at the armed men firing on them from the safety of the building. Well, that seemed to clear the Patcher. James hadn''t forgotten the mutilating maniac''s latest creation at the time had been completely immune to his darkness. Well, now that he thought about it, there was a very good chance this was the work of Runar with, well, runes. He had seen some of those when the monster''s bones had been exposed during that encounter, that particular abomination''s teeth being made from two human ribcages still attached to their spines acting as jaws. He couldn''t dismiss it the mad surgeon or whatever it was he called himself''s ability to counter James'' shadow powers, but since right after meeting that Glapissant thing he ran into the orc knight Karadok who just so happened to prepare a ritual specifically to catch James, that particular problem would likely better be attributed to the Runemaster. But, as much as he realized the lack of shadow resistance on these things didn''t clear the Patcher, something else did. That tree in the scorpion. To his knowledge, the Patcher only worked with flesh and associated materials like bones and organic tissues, not plants. There might have been some exceptions in his collection, but not to the point it would fit in with what he could see from what his clone shared, with almost a quarter of all critters attacking having some sort of floral or fungal element to them. At the same time, it was entirely possible this was the point. Maybe whoever was behind this purposefully chose this selection of creatures to fool James into thinking this was the work of the Biflora. Or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, this might be the Hivines sending such a small number of plant creatures to make it seem as though another group was impersonating them. They were a known cult yet they managed to play with the law enough for the group to stay free and its leader without a Villain label, knowing how to achieve the right balance to hide their involvement must have been second nature to them. Sometimes, James really hated being the one in charge. He hated being the one who had to decipher their enemy''s intent and figure out who the foe was in the first place. This whole mess of politicking and strategizing... He was a pizza delivery boy in his past life, not some mafioso! You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Still, he asked his body double one last time whether it would be fine without him. It seemed certain of their flawless victory so far, but there was always the chance some big bad horde leader would pop up later. It assured him he wasn''t needed. Should anything more troublesome than what had arrived so far appear, they would pull out the experimental stuff Techlord was working on. Suddenly, James felt a tinge of pity for whatever would be unlucky enough to be the teen''s latest test subject. The young inventor had no sadistic bone in his body, but as someone who learned by messing with scraps and who aimed for the greatest results possible, what happened to the sewer critters he fought to get used to his new suit was best left unsaid. On the plus side, they got some roasted meat to feed the troops out of that experience. Some parts were charred and others slimy but hey, folks from these parts were used to worse. James told his clone to call him back either if there was another emergency or when they were done. Now, with that dealt with, he could go back to the surface of the Penumbral Palace. But, why would he? The conference was over as far as he was concerned. If anything, if the attack was an attempt to bait him away, it would be best to stay hidden here, just in case that monster ringleader tried something. After all, a good serving of humiliation and possibly even an execution would be perfect now that journalists were still around. No, he was better off waiting for now. His people in the Sunken City might still need him after all.
When Sam chose to become Techlord, it wasn''t out of a childish desire to be a Hero. Well, part of it was he had to admit, but he put a lot more thought behind it than most brats who spouted the classic Union nonsense. Unlike them, he had lived in those dangerous streets all his life. He knew how things worked. Fighting off scavengers and opportunistic predators every other day while growing up taught him more than any fancy school would have. So, when a horde of horribly disfigured monsters decided that attacking his home and workshop beneath the earth was a good idea, he had a ton of countermeasures at the ready. He had just finished fully relocating his equipment to the refurbished orphanage, finally truly leaving his little hole in Silhouette''s original sewers base so that he and Tech Junior would be around folks. Moreso the latter, Sam would have perfectly fine staying isolated, but Junior was still young and in their formative years. According to Mesker at least. Hard to judge the mental capacity of an abominable fusion of flesh and moss and bones and metal and plastic. Sam spared a glance at his unexpected child, ignoring the shrill screams that the skinny lizards covered in mushrooms he was dousing with his flamethrower let out as it tried to crawl its way forward. His adoptive monster, now fully covered by a bulkier and more heavily plated version of his Techsuit, was currently stomping down on creepy crawlies trying to skitter through the heavier defenders to get at the softer ones. They weren''t successful on account of the fighter joyfully breaking them under their boots. At this point, the original black of Junior''s suit was no longer visible beneath all the dark green and red juices of their victims. Sam had to admit, that was a good look. "Junior! Use your gadgets!" The faceless helmet of his partial creation turned to him and nodded before they grabbed the electrorifle strapped to their back. They then went on to smack the critters with it rather than shoot anything. Sam almost scolded them, but the thumbs-up Junior sent them after smashing a dozen of the monsters was too much to bear. He sighed. He''d have to give Junior some proper combat training when they were done. For now, good equipment and freakish strength from their unorthodox birth carried them through the chaos. The lizard tried a final leap at Sam''s face, the big cat-sized reptile putting a lot more energy than it should have been able to given the agony it was in moments before. It was promptly denied by a volley of bullets to the skull, the knockback of the powerful automatic weapon killing its momentum and saving Sam from a faceful of aberration. Well, saved might not have been the right word, considering he knew this would happen. The Shadow Commando were idiots. Morons. Cretins of the highest order. In some unnatural display, the more of them you put in the same room the dumber they got as a whole. Almost every day Sam wished to strangle one of them at least once. And yet, for all their flaws and goofiness, they were ruthless. He''d learned his lesson back during the raid on Runar''s base. Well, he got a hint of what they could do, having taken down a Runarian Knight and somehow going an entire operation without any loss. Even with their improved equipment, he expected at least one or two to die. But when he and Silhouette interrogated the survivors of the attack, they discovered the remaining thugs were terrified. It was hard to believe then, but seeing them in action now, he struggled to accept that those were the same donut-obsessed idiots he had to deal with daily. Only half of them were in armor right now, the rest being on a break day and not fast enough to dress up when the creatures attacked, but they were killers all the same. While he and Junior were the highlights of the melee defense, only two people weren''t a force, they were assets. The armored group used their guns more than their fists unless something got too close, but if anything they were better at mowing down the rampaging wave of mad flesh. Those in their basic suits - somehow the group as a whole agreeing on a shared aesthetic for their downtime clothes - were even deadlier, raining bullets from the windows of the orphanage. This wasn''t a fight, this was pest control. Nothing had managed to get into the building so far, at worst they got to climb the walls for a few seconds before they were torn apart by their fake Silhouette. The blobby thing wasn''t as impressive as the real deal if you let him the man, but its powers were more than enough to deal with rabid animals no matter how weird. And if guns and shadows and flames and corruptive electricity weren''t enough to deal with something, like the massive worm squishing his way forth to the gate, well... Old decrepit roots emerged from the ground, the seemingly dead wood wrapping up around the juicy tube of meat and constricting until it popped, the rain of its insides showering the surrounding creatures as their life was drained by horrific twisted apparitions of shadows of nuns from beyond the grave. They weren''t all out and about, a small group remained inside to watch over the kids both dead and alive, and keep them from seeing the carnage, but Mother Greenheld and those who were fighting were more than enough to take care of the attackers. Sam did feel some pride at the fact that his creations were taking down more monsters than the spiritual side of the defenders. He wouldn''t boast about it to the undead, they didn''t care a single bit about that sort of stuff, but he''d definitely mention it in the full report to Silhouette. Both to show off and also to show they needed to improve their defenses on that front. The nuns weren''t interested in fighting if it wasn''t to defend the orphans, but maybe the boss would find a way to convince them to train somehow. Greenheld herself was slaughtering beasts by the dozen with her roots, but the rest weren''t anywhere near as fast. Sam extended the blade on his forearm and upper punched it straight through the jaw and into the skull of some giant ferret centipede with a mane of whipping vines, the plants falling limb as soon as the animal''s brain was stabbed then fried by the electric current of the contraption. Things were pretty smooth-sailing so far, but hanging around Silhouette for so long taught him to expect something worse. Say what you want about the dramatic shadow man, he knew how to use his paranoia to survive. Chapter 174 : The Shepherds flock Standing on a dilapidated building not too far from Mother Greenheld''s orphanage, a robed figure watched the ongoing carnage. Cloaked in tan and dirtied silk, a wooden mask covered the figure''s face, hiding their identity. Though with a close look, their loyalty was easy to decipher, a blue bee the size of a mouse nestled between the figure''s raised hood and their neck, any hint of skin hidden away by green bandages tightly woven over their form. When they spoke, a deep masculine voice left their throat. "They are getting mowed down." The bee wiggled its abdomen and buzzed. "It appears effortless on their part. I have yet to see any of them wounded." "Bzz." "Yes, the undead were an unexpected development. We knew this used to be their home, but common sense dictates Silhouette should have had them exorcised. Merkser Duskenfer has been sighted in the area quite often." "Bzz." "I understand and I apologize. I should have foreseen that an unnatural abomination would ally with others disregarding the sanctity of life." "Bzz bzz." "I thank you for your forgiveness. The question now is, what should be our next step? While there are no faithful on this mission besides myself, we still have the varying degrees of stronger drones you provided me. Should I continue our initial plan and send the weakest champion first?" "Bzz." "Are you certain, milord? While they have been skillfully putting down these soulless critters so far, I am unsure they could survive that one. If they were to be wiped out, Silhouette may react more drastically than we wish." "Bzz." "Ah, I was unaware. So this pillar of darkness resulted from a weapon, not the creature''s work? Impressive. And it means it could be here." "Bzz." "Right, if Silhouette spoke the truth that is. I see your wisdom now." The figure opened their cloak, revealing a bandage-covered slim body beneath and the instrument held between their thin fingers. It was composed of two major parts, a wooden body made of multiple tubes attached together like some sort of hybrid between a machine gun and a pan flute, and at one end of it all was a bulbous sack that comfortably filled a hand. The figure pressed their fingers against the sack, expelling air dextrously to form an odd melody: a mix of a bagpipe''s cries and the fleeting sonority of a lighter wind instrument. As the bizarre music rained down from the ruins'' summit, something dwelling beneath the ground moved, shaking the world as it burrowed deeper, preparing itself to attack the orphanage. The masked one ceased their music once the creature''s movements were no longer felt. While the harmony directed the soulless drones, it also presented the risk of being discovered. The distance between the musician and the targets should be large enough for this precaution to be redundant, but Silhouette had already shown that underestimating him and his group was a dire mistake. Back on the battlefield, Mother Greenheld was the first to notice the disturbance in the earth. Since her body was still in the orphanage''s inner court, her only way to warn the rest was to grow a root near Techlord and have it point down. It took a few seconds for the teen to understand the undead dryad''s meaning, but he was clever enough to connect the dots before it was too late. His eyes widened, hidden behind his smooth mask, and he quickly activated his radio as he yelled. "BURROWER INCOMING!" The Shadow Commando barely reacted to the announcement, but it wasn''t as though they hadn''t heard it. Each one, armored or not, shifted their stance, ready to take off to avoid the menace beneath. Junior similarly didn''t seem to understand their father''s words, but that was only an illusion born from the magical abomination''s natural clumsy body language, even when fully covered. When a massive claw - easily large enough to rival a small bus in size and cut a car in half - erupted from the ground in an attempt to break the latest member of the orphanage''s crew, Junior leaped to the side to avoid the mossy chitin, the act closer to a frog''s gait than human movement. Its initial attack proving fruitless, the underground creature tried again. A second claw, this one thinner but longer, punched through the earth and the tangle of roots that had been trying to hold it down. This time though the claw itself wasn''t the threat, it was the mass of fanged vines dripping with poison it held and that flailed wildly, each appendage easily as long as a person. This attack wasn''t aimed at a single imposing threat like the last but rather at four members of the Commando close to one another. Their electroshields sparked to life to block the initial strike, but they couldn''t do much when the armed guards were sent flying by the impact and skipped off the ground. Luckily, their shields had also burned the poison before it could cover them. Sadly, their pained grunt seemed to indicate they wouldn''t be quite as useful in the rest of the battle. Techlord clicked his tongue before disengaging from the atrocious parody of a centaur he had been fighting, four trunk-like legs stomping down in fury as the emancipated mummy''s upper body screeched in fury at the Sunken City''s ceiling. Sam didn''t leave without a parting gift, pierced through by the creature''s proboscis was a grenade that didn''t shy away from exploding and turning the monster''s brain into splatters as soon as the teen was far enough to be spared from the detonation. Even his suit was spared a gruesome shower thanks to his speed. With a flick of his wrist, the blade on Techlord''s forearm was replaced by a barrel that fired metal pellets at the claw wielding the aggressive flora right as Junior''s fist glowed with electric power as they punched the thicker limb. Cracks echoed simultaneously and the thing roared beneath the earth, quickly dragging his claws back to save them from further harm, bits of chitin falling off onto the ground. Techlord didn''t wait before throwing another grenade down the closest hole the creature had made with its appendages. It only took seconds before a booming sound accompanied by violent shaking occurred. From their position on the distant building, the mysterious figure and their bee studied the scene. While they were too far away to be easily noticed, their sight was vastly superior to a hawk''s, and they both got to see exactly what had happened. Their monster was far from defeated, but it already suffered more damage than either of them expected without the involvement of more impactful weapons. "Those two with the more advanced armors. I must admit, they are remarkable. Are they known parameters?" "Bzz." "Uhm, yes, it would make sense. My bet would be the smaller one is the inventor. The way he switches his gadgets around is far more fluid and intuitive than the larger brute." "Bzz." "Of course, it is also possible the inventor is a less experienced fighter and relies more on sheer strength, you are correct milord. Still, from their interactions, I continue to think the small one is the right one. The fact the others called them Techlord is in my favor." "Bzz." "Yes, a shame. Perhaps we could convince them to renounce Silhouette and technology so that instead they work on symbiosis? They would do wonders if they could design the combinations and arrangements of our kin. I''m sure being shown a living suit better than their synthetic creation would sway them." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Bzz bzz." "Apologies milord, but I disagree. The Guides have their failings, but they have done splendid work on the successful ecosystems." "Bzz." "I know the number is small, but the quality is high." "Bzz." "..." "Bzz." "No, I suppose not. That suit would beat one of ours. But that''s exactly my point, milord. We need them." "Bzz." "Yes, I lack the resources to recruit them or even the right motivator to ensure success, but that can be arranged. I request permission to repurpose this scouting strike into a capture mission." "Bzz." "Very well. Let us see how they fare against the drone." They looked down to see Techlord jumping into the air, thrusters activating all over his form to keep him airborne, right as the burrowing monster finally revealed itself in a burst of rock and dust with a thunderous roar. It featured a shark-like head covered in red armored plates, though with a nose far too long compared to the rest of it, its disconnected jaws hanging off even at rest. Frankly, it was eerily similar to a hybrid between a lobster and a goblin shark. That comparison didn''t end at the head, as more of the body emerged from the earth more segments and fin-like blades appeared as well as the front pair of claws, the limbs still cracked and missing shelling in some spots. More claws followed, two more pairs were as dextrous as the first while the rest served as legs, though still more than capable of opening and closing to grab or crush anything that got too close. There were at least a dozen of these pairs of walking claws before the tail, a massive and muscled thing that occupied a third of the body and ended in a pincer, much like an earwig''s abdomen. All in all, the beast was easily longer than the entire orphanage, and seemingly taller too as it adjusted its posture to fully expose its six main claws, its neck bending down so that its head could stare down at the puny group trying to stop it. Notably, there was another cracked spot on its back, one covered in soot and that smelled of cooked seafood. The Shadow Commando stared up at the giant angry crustacean fish and a single thought passed through their heads, though only one was brave enough to say it. "So... If kill it, do we get to eat it?" For such a well-made armor, Techlord''s Tech Suit creaked an awful lot as he turned to stare at the one who dared to voice their thoughts. "What? Do you have any plan for a giant lobster thing?" Sam was seething that the answer was no, he did not. He wouldn''t do anything without Silhouette''s authorization, maybe his boss would decide to dabble in necromancy and recycle the thing, but aside from that he didn''t see what they could do with that stuff. The thing''s shell wasn''t stronger than their current equipment and it didn''t appear to have any special organ or ability they could repurpose. It was just big. Dead roots dug up from the ground near the teen genius, their wood partially burned. Techlord flinched at that. "Ah, sorry Greenheld. I should have known better." The closest root gently patted his head. The fact the undead twitched and creaked whenever it moved made the comforting gesture far more creepy and unsettling than planned, but Sam knew better than to comment on it. The massive creature threatening them all roared once more and readied its dextrous appendages to hammer down on the orphanage. Techlord narrowed his eyes behind his helmet. "Right, that. Time to cook a lobster!" The Shadow Commando cheered far too loudly for his liking. But, hey, he had walked right into that one. "Greenheld, focus on the legs. Ghosts and armored Commando, keep the rest of the horde at bay. The rest of you, fire at the eyes. Junior and I will be breaking some claws." Shouts answered his orders and soon the chaos resumed. The big monster snarled as electricity pelted its head and wooden restraint rose from the earth and constricted its limbs, its low growl deafening and covering the sound of the other creatures'' screeches as specters drained their life with more aplomb than before. The Commando couldn''t be dismissed either, valiantly charging into the fray as they fired corruptive metal and energies at the invaders, smashing and slashing at anything that came too close. Of course, Techlord and his child weren''t twiddling their thumbs. The inventor readied himself and began to charge both of his arms cannons without any hesitation, while his creation had a much different approach. Junior may have been a brute, but they had still figured out how to work their suit. Propulsors and thrusters came to life to launch the armored abomination at the crustacean''s equivalent of a torso, the impact of metal of chitin alone cracking the shell, and they didn''t hesitate a second to start rampaging, digging into the white flesh behind the limbs. Though taking a second to look a little closer, Sam noticed that the monster''s unarmored parts weren''t just white, they were covered in mold. The mold made no effort to hide itself any further as white tendrils burst out of every seam on the creature''s body, bashing Junior and crawling down Greenheld''s roots. Interestingly enough, the spot that had been cooked by Sam''s grenade was free of this fungal growth. Sam smirked. He knew everything he needed. "Junior! Go hot!" They stopped their rampage to look down at their originator and gave him a thumbs up. Then, ignoring the latching tendrils of mold that had grown vicious fangs, they tapped a button on their armored suit twice before spinning another contraption at their hip. In an instant, the black armor was replaced by blazing flames. The lobster screeched, momentarily pausing the fall of its claws on the Shadow Den. That instant that killed their momentum was exactly what Techlord had been waiting for and he let his smirk reach his ears as he let loose the energy blast he had been charging, this one free of Silhouette''s usual corruptive darkness. No, this blast was made solely of concentrated energy, more specifically the exact kind that turned into nothing but heat as soon as it reached the creature''s neck, much higher than where Junior had dug themself a hole. There was no boom, but there was a sizzling. The lobster''s front half flopped down and stopped moving, its eyes empty. That wasn''t to say it was completely done yet. With the front down, the tail rose to the action, bending like a scorpion''s to let the pincer at the end aim for Techlord, lunging much faster than the creature had moved at any point so far. Chitinous spikes closed down on the teen''s form, pressing his arms against his sides before bashing him against the ground. Once. Twice. Thrice. On the fourth go, the tail flopped down just as the head had done earlier, releasing a dizzy yet unharmed Sam who stumbled to the hole Junior had made. Well, he tried to at least. He would have collapsed after the third step if one of Greenheld''s roots hadn''t caught him, and it took two members of the Shadow Commando carrying him for Techlord to reach his goal. Right as Sam arrived, his creation emerged, no longer burning but holding a strange colorful tumor. The watermelon-sized thing was likely cocooned in mold at one point considering some of the scorched fungal matter was still attached and flaking off. "Uh, what''s that stuff, boss?" "This was the mushroom''s brain." "Uh. So... Zombie fungus?" Dizzy as he was, Sam was still surprised that the idiot had understood the idea so quickly. Apparently, even with his face hidden, his surprise was clear as the guard continued. "One of the guys had some of those in his neighborhood. Told us all about them during the last spooky story night. Nasty stuff." Sam fought back the urge to strangle the moron. The fact he still couldn''t walk on his own greatly helped. "But, wait, isn''t the whole shtick with mushrooms that they don''t have a heart or anything? Like, the real mushroom is the roots, and everything else just add-ons?" That Sam didn''t know, though he wouldn''t admit it. "How. How do you know these things?" "Ma had a thing for mushrooms. Loved making stew. Taught me a lot. And da had a knack for gardening, showed me all the little roots in the pots." "You know what? Fine. I''ll roll with that. But... Wait. If mushrooms don''t have a core, then what the hell did Junior find?" The group exchanged curious looks. They hadn''t wanted to bother their boss, but they might need him now. Meanwhile, the hooded figure and their bee watched the scene with wide eyes. "Uh. That was unexpected." "Bzz." "Right, all without bringing out that secret weapon. Should I... Unleash the rest? We still have a few better drones, not to mention the rest of the fodder." "Bzz." "Of course, milord. Any more would be wasteful. I''ll leave those we''ve already sent, it would be suspicious if they retreated, but this will be the end of our scouting strike. Are you sure you don''t want to capture this Techlord?" "Bzz bzz." "Milord, surely this is the best time to strike. He''s weakened and his allies occupied." "Bzz." "Silhouette? How could he-" "Bzz." "... Very well milord. I apologize for questioning your orders. Though, we must address what they found." "Bzz." "..." "Bzz bzz." "If that is your wish. I fear they will learn more than you think." "Bzz." "Oh! How sharp of you! Of course, this humble servant couldn''t understand the great machinations of your elevated mind, milord." "Bzz." "Right away, milord. I just wished we could have learned the exact fate of our missing Siblings." "Bzz." "Oh? The window- I see it now." Yes, they could see it. It appeared like Silhouette at a glance, which was why they had failed to notice it so far. The man was too discreet for anyone''s good. But this wasn''t Silhouette. No, this was merely a copy, one made of black meat. "How insidious." "Bzz." "Worry not, milord. None will harm a Shepherd without going through his flock." The bee buzzed one last time as the man left, jumping off the building to run far away, a last few presses of his instrument ordering the waiting reinforcements to evacuate with him. Unknown to him, his flight wasn''t as discreet as he wished, a camera watching him take his leave from its hidden spot on the orphanage''s roof. Chapter 175 : A breath of fresh air G433 was unhappy. No, scratch that. G433 WAS ABSOLUTELY LIVID. The artificial gestalt struggled in his bounds, the screen of the cubic computer that served as his body flashed horrible things as the sound of clicking chains echoed. In the back of the armored truck where he seethed in silence after being muted, the guards surrounding him watched the show curiously. It wasn''t every day you got to see a living computer shaking in the metal chains wrapping it. It couldn''t be confused with the regular rocking from being in a moving vehicle, the shaking was far too violent for that considering the fact they were on city roads. "Man, that guy''s got a serious temper." "Tell me about it. It felt like I was trying to tie a fish." The oldest of the four guards cleared her throat, interrupting them and catching their attention. "We''re on the job. Keep your gossip for after work. For now, be ready for anything." "Yes ma''am." "Sorry ma''am." "Good." The fourth guard rolled her eyes. "Come on, it''s just a computer. It doesn''t even have internet. What can it do, make a presentation about how much it hates us?" The veteran said nothing and simply looked her junior in the eyes. She caught the cable that had been trying to sneak its way up to her neck before showing it off. "It can do that." She punched down on the computer before ripping the cable off. "Never forget that prisoners can be some of the most desperate folks. You don''t show your back to a cornered rat." The more obedient two gulped while the third just snorted. "Fine, the box can be dangerous, got it. But really, we''re just transferring a patient from one place to the next, not escorting some big bad Villain. What could happen?" "Had it not been for the precaution and tight surveillance of the Institute, this thing could have gotten control of a military-grade body. You saw the harmless computer try to strangle me, what do you think it could do with a stronger form?" "It wouldn''t have had weapons." "Neither does a steamroller." The youngster sighed. "Fine. Fine! The robot is dangerous. That doesn''t change the fact that no one is about to attack us. It''s a lone psycho. Nobody''s gonna try and burst it out." The veteran shook her head. "People do stupid things all the time. They see an armored truck, they''re going to try their luck." "This is clearly just a prisoner transport vehicle. It''s not even hidden. They''re only interested in that sort of stuff if they already know someone they want is inside. Again, this thing''s just a lone psycho, no one outside wants it." The older of the two clicked her tongue. "Like I said, some will try their luck anyway. Not to mention, this thing''s old and unique, you can be sure some fancy crime lord wants to add it to their collection." Before the contrarian youngster could answer, a detonation rocked the vehicle. Not enough to make it fall and send it tumbling, but whatever happened prompted their driver to stop as the truck slowed down. All animosity between the two women vanished as they readied their weapons along with the two silent men who had awkwardly been watching the argument. Without the need for discussion, one of the two men went to watch over their quarry and ensure he wouldn''t escape while the other three took aim at the door. Tense seconds passed in silence. No sign of their driver and the front passenger. No radio call or even signal for them to send a message. They waited. They waited. They- BOOM! The doors were forced open by a small blast. Since whoever was on the other side hadn''t bothered to knock to warn them they knew it wasn''t an ally and started firing. Three volleys of bullets flew outside through the cloud of smoke left by the explosion, soon joined by a fourth volley this time aimed at the guards. Their protective gear wasn''t enough to protect them from the heavy projectiles, though nothing vital was pierced through leaving only flesh wounds thanks to the bulletproof parts of their equipment, the force of the impacts was enough to knock them down. The three guards groaned as they fought to get back up, but the invading metal man quickly put their attempts to an end by kicking their heads. The android was pleased to see the fourth guard already knocked out, likely by the initial blast. After verifying all four of the people stationed in the back of the truck were truly out and not just pretending, he called his accomplices. "Everything''s taken care of back here!" The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Coming in from the front while dragging the driver and another guard by their collars, a heavily tattooed humanoid axolotl dropped her victims as she studied the bullets embedded in her robotic ally''s torso. More accurately, she was watching the way the adaptive gel-like metal that covered his skeleton spit the shrapnel out. "Front''s clear as well. Man, that never gets any less freaky." "I could say the same about your limbs." She scoffed with a smug grin on her lips as a torn branch-like gill grew back redder than ever. "You''re just jealous." "Of what? Your dirty flesh?" He shivered. In response, she hit the back of his head, forcing a small complaint out of him. Before they could go any further, the last member of the group arrived. By all accounts, he just looked like a poor parody of a cowboy, though one without guns. Instead, it was his fingers that were still fuming from the two blasts he had released earlier. "If you two have the time to goof around, you have the time to empty this bad boy. We don''t have all day, Heroes could be coming in any second now." The robot made a light bow to apologize before guiding his accomplices to their prize. "Nothing much in here. Just some old computer, though it''s covered in chains for some reason." The axolotl hummed as she knelt to study the weighty box, its screen black. "Maybe it''s one of those cursed gizmos? Like, ''ye who removes these weights will be cursed to a hundred years of diarrhea'' or whatever. Ballistic, you do it." "Absolutely not. I am not testing out how ancient curses try to accomplish something that requires bodily functions on a machine. You''re the one who stopped a transport truck you thought had something good in it." The cowboy growled. "Enough, the both of you. That thing ain''t cursed, otherwise they''d have stationed exorcists. There must be something at play though, otherwise, why put it in a prisoner transport truck?" The axolotl blinked. "Prisoner transport? Are you sure? How can you even tell?" "They''re not made the same. If it''s goods, there''s a focus on storage, there shouldn''t even be anyone inside, a guy or two at most. Prisoner? They ain''t letting them alone in the back. Four guards means this was a low priority, but there''s nothing but the box." "Maybe we got ourselves an invisible friend?" "No. Either their powers would be suppressed if possible or the guards would be equipped to see them." The cowboy narrowed his eyes as he looked back to their surroundings. Traffic had stopped around them, all cars knowing better than to get too close to the attack even now that it was over, and there was no pedestrian to be seen either. However, that didn''t ease his worries. "Pick up the box and move out. We''re getting out of here." "Ballistic, you heard the boss!" "I am not touching an unknown computer, especially not when it''s covered in chains! I don''t want any sort of virus or malware in my systems." The cowboy growled before forming finger guns, a sizzling glow forming at the end of each leather-covered index. "You will both carry this computer, or we''ll test exactly how effective your respective regenerations are." The axolotl gulped loudly and quickly went to lift one side of the device, letting her metallic partner join her to carry the other one. They shuffled out of the truck somewhat clumsily, struggling to carry the full weight of the machine. Their leader meanwhile shook his head as he let out a sigh, lightly pinching his nose. "I''m surrounded by goddam children..." The robot, Ballistic, objected. "I''m no child. Pink is the one acting out and causing trouble." "I do not care. Let''s just go to the cache to hide this thing and then disperse. I don''t want to be around when the Heroes drop in, and neither do either of you." Pink, the axolotl, snorted. "Speak for yourself, bossman. I wouldn''t mind Miss Malice dropping by. I''m sure her magic can be... Versatile." "Keep your fantasies to yourself, Pink. Besides, this isn''t worth her time. We''re no Sunburn." She sighed and posed dramatically, leaving Ballistic to support the full weight of the computer. Surprisingly he wasn''t affected in the slightest. "Oh, woe is us. Seriously though, this piece of junk doesn''t look like it was worth the heat." "You''re the one who found it, Pink." "Yeah, I know, but it''s your job to be the brain boss." The cowboy looked ready to retort before he paused, his gaze going from the sassy humanoid amphibian to her robot accomplice. Ballistic was standing still, unmoving, and somehow cables that hadn''t been present so far were coming from the old boxy computer and wrapped all around the android''s form. His face had stopped emoting, but something else began acting up. The computer''s screen which had been black so far was now turned on, showing white numbers on a blue background that moved far too rapidly for either of the two other criminals to read them. "Ballistic?" "Tin can?" The boss resumed forming energy bullets at the ends of his fingers while Pink stepped closer. Suddenly cables lashed at her, prompting her to jump back with a high-pitched squeak. Ballistic''s form began to shake in spasms as his body raised the box higher, going far past his usual strength to put the computer level with his eyes. More cables slithered out from the old piece of machinery and coiled in the air, readying for a strike. They cut Ballistic''s head off. Pink shrieked at the sight while the cowboy fired. Unseen to the amphibian, more cables had been spreading around her and caught her at the waist, pulling her in to catch the projectiles as a meatshield. She yelled in pain as her leader cursed, the foul words overshadowed by her shouts of pain and the screaming metal of the chains as they broke. Ballistic''s body placed the now free computer over his neck and the cables quickly latched onto it, pulling the device down to act as a new head. A sinister chuckling echoed out of the android as the screen turned from numbers to a simplistic pixelated face with a smirk. "Oooh... This will do... Nicely/Appropriately/Wonderfully/Good enough." The screen frowned at his own words while the cowboy fired another shot, the cables dragging the axolotl to use her as a shield once again. She didn''t react. "Don''t interrupt my train of thought. Where was I? Right. It appears there are still some disagreements, but this situation is still positive." The smile returned to the screen as G433 focused back on the man currently trying to shoot him. "Oh, I must thank you and your friends. Without you, I''d never be free. And what a body you''ve provided! Not my first choice, of course, but far better than what I could have put together on my own." The cowboy tried to shoot energy once more only for the AI to step closer and grab his arms before aiming them to the sky. "Now, how to thank you?" The robotic hands tightened their grip and broke the leader''s bones, leaving him to scream in pain as they released him, the agony making him fall and curl on the ground. The computer''s smile widened before stomping down Ballistic''s head, shards and shrapnel bursting out and lodging themselves in the cowboy''s skin. The robot''s body then began to stretch, testing the limbs. "You mentioned something about Heroes arriving soon, didn''t you? How troublesome. I''ll have to cut this short then. A shame." G433 picked the cowboy up by the collar before slamming him head-first into the prisoner transport vehicle. Multiple times. By the time he was done, the criminal''s head had been absolutely pulverized, leaving behind a mess of gore that could never be guessed to be a human face at any point. The rogue AI''s stolen body, now painted red, dropped the corpse of the human along with the axolotl''s. He briefly considered executing the unconscious guards but the cry of sirens in the distance convinced him to move on. Quickly scanning the memories of the body''s original owner, the gestalt found a nice little spot where he could hide until the heat went down. Alone as he was, he didn''t bother to hide his satisfied grin. Nothing could stop him now. Chapter 176 : Rent Surprisingly for James, everything had gone well. It was now the morning after the grand opening of the Penumbral Palace, and everything was perfectly fine. He was enjoying spending time with the ratlings, helping them get ready for school since they finally would get to go starting the next week, and no new emergency had dropped on his lap. The team at the Shadow Den had successfully dealt with the horde of invading monsters and had already contacted Mesker to handle investigating the remains. They had achieved a perfect victory, and in the end, though James spent the rest of that day still hidden in the infused stone ground of his facility no other problem had arisen. Delegating was paying off. At least spending all that time in matter gave him a reason to train, well, doing exactly that. He had already begun developing that habit some time ago while training in the sewers, discovering that with a lot of concentration, he could shift from one infused spot to the other so long as the two were connected. Moving in a mass of infused material without focusing on achieving this pseudo-teleportation was a lot closer to moving underwater, but spending an entire day testing this environment helped a lot. Well, underwater might not be the right word. In outer space perhaps? He''d never been there, but even then he knew it wasn''t quite right. Weight and momentum were drastically different, initiating a movement was much harder than in normal conditions but at the same time once something was going it kept on going. It was hard to describe. He wasn''t close to as fast as he was when "teleporting", but he was faster than he was normally. Quickly moving through any place he owned would be done via his previous method, but this new one was much more effective when it came to combat. It didn''t require to focus to the point of leaving an opening, for one. He could also still attack, though he needed to adjust everything to account for the shift in environment. More importantly, folks would have to be damaging the infused material he was hiding in to hurt him, and while people capable of easily breaking stones were a thing in this world, it still would trouble most. Especially in a place where everything was infused and connected... The ringing of his phone put an end to James'' wandering thoughts. The specific sound told him this was one of his employees, and while it wasn''t the emergency alarm the fact they felt the need to call him directly showed they deemed this too important to handle themselves. James made a gesture with his hands for the kids to stay quiet while he answered, something they answered with nods. Still, aside from Lucille, they made no effort to hide that they would be listening in, and even then the stern sister''s twitching ear as she read the school''s rulebook showed she was just as curious. "Silhouette here. What''s happening?" "Ah, boss. Gonna be honest, I thought this would be some sort of secretary." James recognized the voice of Claude Puma, that former warehouse worker who was far too nosy for his own good. Maybe it was related to him being a genderbent clone of some important businesswoman in the city left to fend for himself in the slums? In any case, that whole secretary idea wasn''t bad. He technically already had his copies like Solvent and the pair of flesh monsters act as proxies to filter important information, but that wasn''t all a secretary did and even then it only covered a few locations that his group occupied. Well, they did also serve to transmit messages when he had to leave his phone behind, but the point remained. "Focus, Puma. What''s happening?" "Right. I was managing your shop with Snowflake when the gal from the magic place next door came to complain about rent and demanded to speak with you. You, uh, know something about that?" Right. He had almost forgotten about that. Impressive, since his memory got improved by his change in body. He had never stopped renting this original building back at the Black Block, but he had barely talked to her since their original deal. He had paid his due a few times, but they barely even exchanged pleasantries then. He had a feeling this was related to what happened yesterday. "I''ll be arriving shortly." "Thanks, bossman. Uh, any idea of how soon?" "Very." James hung up before his employee could question any further. He liked to treat them nicely, but Claude had the knack to rub him the wrong way. "Alright kids, I''m going to deal with that. I''ll try to come back shortly, but you know how this sort of thing goes." "Yes, father. We will defend our home in your absence." James chuckles as he petted her head. "I know, I know. Just remember to be a kid, Lucille." The young rat with metallic fur''s ears grew redder from her blush, though she acted as though it wasn''t happening. "Alright everyone, I''m off. Don''t hesitate to call Solvent or the orphanage if anything happens." With those last words, James focused and shifted, leaving his phone and clothes behind. He had come up with this idea shortly after first discovering this teleportation-lite ability. He was the owner of this residential building in all but name since everyone inhabiting it was an Infused. Even then, it was only a matter of time until he contacted the landlord and bought it as Silhouette, so he had taken the liberty to infuse it, though much more subtly than usual rather than claim the whole thing he had only taken the inside, leaving an untouched external shell that looked no different than any of the other neighboring buildings, that way his home didn''t stand out despite being much more resilient than some bunkers. He did leave a few small openings here and there for him to easily access, but those were hidden behind gutters or underneath furniture. He hadn''t stopped at his building either. It was the labor of multiple weeks, but he had successfully managed to build a true network embedded in the city''s ground. It wasn''t anything close to the degree he had infused his bases or fake caches in the sewers, but he had formed a series of thin discreet veins. They weren''t holes so they didn''t weaken anything, in fact, they strengthened the spots they ran through, and they were so small they were very easy to miss. He had asked Mesker to verify that point when he first began. The mage had been the one to reveal how obvious his occupation of the orphanage was to his means of detection, after all. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. These veins weren''t anywhere close to spreading through the whole city, but they did cover a large area that encompassed all of his holdings while still leaving enough space not to make that first fact too obvious. Similarly, the veins weren''t direct straight lines between locations. Many led to dead ends or shell areas he infused to fool people who''d like to investigate his network. If anyone tried to figure out how it all worked, they would be in for quite the headache, and should anyone expose or cut through some of the veins, he had multiple copies and roundabout he could take instead. Not to mention, the black veins were hard to spot in the already dark ground that made up the city''s bell-like foundation to cover its Sunken counterpart. He would admittedly likely be in some legal trouble if the authorities found out, but nothing that wasn''t worth his safety and convenience. He would gladly pay any fine they offered and have one of his copies take his place in jail if it came down to it. The trip was fast, but not quite to the point of being instant. This wasn''t true teleportation after all, just closer to the flushing of a plumbing system. The comparison wasn''t glamorous, but it worked. After a minute or so left alone with his thoughts and a strange sensation somewhat close to going through a roller coaster, Silhouette popped back up in the basement of his first shop. He had no nostalgia for the place, but it was still too useful to give up. And while the building itself had no place in James'' heart, its black-and-white aesthetic with a tentacle motif had been selected by Larry and Barry, and James'' first two employees might be saddened by the loss of the shop that marked a new step in their lives. Claude, Snowflake, and their guest clearly hadn''t expected James to come out of the basement. The handsome man and the white goblin-like creature were the most shocked, knowing perfectly well their employer hadn''t been here earlier, whereas the magic shop owner quickly got over her initial surprise, likely assuming there was some kind of lair down there he had been working in before they called for him. Which wasn''t entirely incorrect, there was the whole network of sewer tunnels patrolled by Mischief under the shop, he just wasn''t there. Maviza hadn''t changed much since he''d last seen her. The black-haired tan girl with aquiline features still looked the same, with green glowing tattoos quite similar to Arabic script and bags under her emerald eyes. She radiated a no-nonsense attitude that bordered on a feeling of antipathy towards pretty much everything, and that was if James was being polite. "Silhouette guy. It''s been a while." "Since my last payment." She briefly exhaled from her nose before leaning against a counter, her arms crossed. "So. I''ve heard you got yourself a new place." "It opened yesterday, yes, though it had been announced for a while." "Yeah, well, I wasn''t sure you would go through with it until you did." "I sure hope this isn''t your policy when someone threatens you." She did her best to fight back a smirk, but she couldn''t hide the faint twitching of her lip from him. "So, with the pleasantries out of the way, let''s talk business. Are you going to keep this thing open now that you''ve got your fancy place in the big city?" "If you would allow it. I already offered you to buy this building in the past, I am more than willing to do so again." "Ah, fat chance. Do you know how long I''ve got my eyes on this spot?" "Long enough to hex five of the former owners." The twitch of her eyelid didn''t escape his gaze either. Neither of them had explicitly stated that fact in the past, but when James first heard this building had a history of shifting ownership following heart attacks, he immediately had a feeling it wasn''t coincidental. It didn''t bother James as much as it might have had before he dropped into this world, even when he first met Maviza he knew how cutthroat the slums were. Frankly, he could understand the first and second not selling, but the third? By that point, it should have been clear the mage wouldn''t take no for an answer. Maviza wasn''t a good person, that was for sure, but at least she was upfront about what she wanted and she wasn''t as power-hungry as some of the other folks in the area. She did become a merchant rather than a gang leader or anything of the sort, after all. She only cared about her business, and she had no plan to expand to the same level. Oh, thinking about it, that may be an opening... "Listen, our initial arrangement should still stand. I pay rent depending on the profits of the shop, and I get a monthly discount on a selection of products from your store." "Yeah, but that doesn''t seem as fitting now that you''re starting a big franchise, big guy." "Our arrangement mentioned the shop, not the company. I have no reason to pay more just because I''m expanding elsewhere." "And I don''t see the need to keep giving you discounts when you obviously have the money to pay the full price." She stared at James'' faceless head for a few moments, giving him ample time to come up with a solution that would hit multiple birds with one stone. "Do you have a TV, perchance?" She scoffed. "I''m not a swamp witch, of course I do." "I wanted to make sure, considering our location. Regardless, if you watched the full footage of the opening, then you should know I''m looking for experts in new fields to spearhead the production of new items to hit the shelves." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you seriously offering me a job right now?" "If you wish, I could offer the same initial deal I did Decanov. You''ll start as a temporary aid, and when this trial period is over you will be free to consider a longer-term position, if I am satisfied with your work that is." "And why should I join you, shady guy?" "It should be clear enough by now that Shade Of Penumbra will be successful. Soon I''ll have mages knocking at my door by the dozen for the same position, not just because of our growing popularity but also thanks to my willingness to hire parias and beginners. I will expand my business to cover a larger magic branch than I already do with the remains of Runar''s empire, of that there is no doubt. Don''t you want to try and have a piece of the cake?" She scoffed again. "You didn''t answer the question, big guy." "It''s clear by now you don''t have dreams of grandeur. That is perfectly fine. However, you must realize that I still offer a chance to expand your business past these dilapidated streets. You may not want to be the next big thing, but selling in the city would still bring in extra funds. Not interested in becoming an employee? Perfectly fine, then I offer you to act as a retailer." She frowned but didn''t immediately retort. If anything, she began to ponder James'' words judging by her gazing into nothing and light hum. "Let me be honest here, Maviza. Do you think anyone else would offer you the same deal? I can''t be the only one who pieced together what happened to the former owners of my shop. You should know Doctor Decanov''s reputation. I offered him a job. Look at him now." She growled before sighing. "Let''s try that retailer thing. You set up a stall with my things in your store and I get the profits?" "Aside from my margin, yes." "Five percent." "Twenty. There''s the cost of transport, of maintaining a place in the building, the branding..." "Seven." "I''m curious, you''re the first magic shop James picked back then, but how many of them are there on the Block? Surely one of them would be interested." She growled again and the glow of her tattoos grew stronger. "Ten." "Fifteen, and you get a monthly ten percent discount on one of our products of your choice. Delivered to you for free. Her arms still crossed, her fingers began to tap her elbows before she nodded. "Fine. But I want something this month." "Of course. Let''s put it on paper. Claude, if you could fetch one of our magical contracts." James was really getting a lot of use out of those, he''d soon need to get a new batch from Mesker. Regardless, he was featuring new types of products in his store. He would still take the time to mark them as non-Penumbral goods, though. He had a reputation to uphold. He''d also need to hire some permanent magical checker to make sure nothing was cursed. Maviza had never tried to pull something on him, but better be safe than sorry. All in all, this was a good start to the day. Chapter 177 : HardCored discourse
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: Yo, did everyone catch the opening of Silhouette''s thing? TechnoGogo: The Penumbral Palace? Not live, but I did watch the videos afterward. I didn''t expect to see Decanov, nor for him to be happy for once. KillLaKrill: You call that happy? TechnoGogo: By his standards, yes. It''s the first time he complimented his employer. (Mod)Seagullag: Yeah, you must remember he''s the most Draskian of his family. As a fellow countryman, I can tell you he may have been annoyed at the journalist but he genuinely likes Silhouette. Didn''t expect that one to be honest, we don''t know much about him but he didn''t seem like the type to mesh well with Decanov. The Silence: I disagree. Silhouette has been upfront about his intentions from the start, something a pragmatic man like Ivan Decanov appreciates. He has also treated his employees fairly, at least for now. TechnoGogo: Yeah, I figured you would like the guy. I can''t quite put my finger on the why though. The Silence: Your attempt at humor is noted. Returning to the topic at hand, I think Shade Of Penumbra may grow to become one of the biggest companies in the city. It would be wise to try and join early. MagicIsTragic: Guys! Did you all miss the part where he said he was looking for new talents? It''s our chance to make it big! The Silence: I just mentioned the subject. MagicIsTragic: Really? Sorry, I didn''t notice in all the yapping. Anyway, Techno, do you wanna collab on some magitech? It''d be our ticket in! TechnoGogo: I dunno, Magic. The guy has Decanov working for him, I''m not sure either of us is up to his standards. MagicIsTragic: Come on, he had a whole thing about taking in the folks no one wants. We fit the bill! KillLaKrill: Oh, self burn. TechnoGogo: Speak for yourself, I know a few companies interested in my work once I graduate. MagicIsTragic: Sure, but those are small stuff. Nothing big. Nothing interesting. Nothing worth our while. I don''t want to make air fresheners or whatever. I want to innovate. KillLaKrill: Hey, there''s nothing wrong with a good old mom-and-pop shop. MagicIsTragic: But that''s not what we want. Admit it, Techno. TechnoGogo: Having a job is more important than following a dream, Magic. MagicIsTragic: That''s sad. JamesIsInTheDark: Hi everyone. What did I miss? KillLaKrill: Yo James, good to see you. Techno and Magic are arguing about getting a job at Silhouette''s place. TechnoGogo: We''re not arguing, we''re sharing viewpoints. KillLaKrill: That''s arguing without the shouting. (Mod)Seagullag: Oh it can be just as loud, trust me. JamesIsInTheDark: You''re looking for a job there? It seems a little early, doesn''t it? MagicIsTragic: You gotta strike while the iron''s hot. We''re better off sending applications now than weeks down the line when the store is fully established. TechnoGogo: It doesn''t matter how early you send it, it doesn''t change the fact neither of us is at the level of the sort of folks he''s looking for. I know at the very least I won''t ever be able to match Decanov. The Silence: You speak as though defeat was inevitable. The lord of shadows made it clear that Decanov did not work on products but on the company''s infrastructure and systems. Your goal isn''t to rival him, it''s to match or offer something different than the existing products. MagicIsTragic: Yeah, that''s right! Come on, I''m sure that by working together we''ll be able to make something better than an alternate taser! TechnoGogo: Hey, don''t disrespect those electroguns! I don''t know how they did it, but those things pack more of a punch than they should. The energy use is also far more efficient than you''d think. KillLaKrill: Wait, you got your hands on one of those? TechnoGogo: No, but I watched a few videos showing them off online. I even saw a guy who managed to disassemble it. JamesIsInTheDark: Uh, I didn''t think people would be interested in that sort of thing. I guess hobbyists like to know how they''re made. TechnoGogo: Not just hobbyists. KillLaKrill: Yeah, sometimes I stumble on that kind of thing while on a binge. The brain likes seeing big things turn into tiny pieces, I guess. TechnoGogo: I mean, sure, there''s that, but there''s also corporate espionage. Other companies may not be allowed to copy the design, but they can study them to see how they were made and improved over the usual standard. (Mod)Seagullag: They won''t figure anything out. Nothing they can imitate anyway. KillLaKrill: Oh? Did you find something interesting you old bird? The Silence: I am assuming you are referring to the likelihood of the Transformation Aspect being involved? KillLaKrill: Wait, what? (Mod)Seagullag: There''s no evidence, but yes. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. MagicIsTragic: Wait a minute, I''m with fish boy on this one. What the hell are you two talking about? The Silence: Every item produced by Shade Of Penumbra is made of darkness-aligned materials. Silhouette is obviously capable of controlling shadows, to the point he can solidify them. Ivan Decanov worked on projects he found interesting while under Silhouette''s employ, and that robot is well known for his high standards, there is little to no chance he''d enjoy working on standard production machinery for a factory. The most sensible conclusion is that Silhouette has access to something he lent the Doctor who then used it to create a Transformation machine. MagicIsTragic: Why does that make so much sense? JamesIsInTheDark: Uh, I''m not from around here, but isn''t the Transformation Aspect a big deal? Is that legal? (Mod)Seagullag: Yes, if they have the necessary permits. The last three Aspects are always a mess, but in this country, people with them aren''t at risk of being executed or imprisoned for no reason. However, they do have to be signaled to and monitored by the Union due to the risks they pose. When it comes to gizmos with those Aspects on the other hand, all you need are permits. Those permits are hard to get, for sure, but they''re still easier to manage than having the Aspects yourself. KillLaKrill: Sounds like you have some experience there. (Mod)Seagullag: I quite enjoy living in an actually democratic country, no matter how flawed. Draskia is dear to my heart, its leaders aren''t. TechnoGogo: I mean, I see your point Silence, but that sounds a little too close to a conspiracy theory. Decanov hasn''t even worked on anything related to the Transformation Aspect in the past. KillLaKrill: To be fair, if Silhouette found some sort of Transformation fluid or Core, Decanov should be smart enough to figure out how to use it. JamesIsInTheDark: I mean, if they had to get permits for that sort of stuff, shouldn''t it be possible to check that out? I know some of those things were publicly available where I came from, though I don''t know all that much about it. I never cared how companies worked outside of the usual tax evasion, pollution, and hired mercenaries stuff. KillLaKrill: Hired mercenaries? JamesIsInTheDark: Well, it wasn''t always mercenaries, but you know. The sole water source in a large area being privatized and locals being chased off with guns. Whistleblowers mysteriously drowning after drinking a glass of water. The usual. KillLaKrill: Ah, right. Around here they just pay Villains to make a mess instead, it''s much better when it comes to plausible deniability. You can''t prove the faulty security system that let the bad guy in wasn''t just the dude hacking their way in rather than purposeful sabotage to leave some fancy toys up for grabs. TechnoGogo: I mean, sometimes it actually is the Villain hacking in. MagicIsTragic: Yeah, but it happens super often with Xenocorp, and yet somehow regular people never manage to peep in. TechnoGogo: I mean, Villains are on a different level. MagicIsTragic: Sure, but they''re also always super shifty with the Union helping out or checking stuff. Nothing that goes against the law, but you can''t deny they''re shady at the very least. KillLaKrill: Uh, isn''t this usually the point where Saray drops in to tell us to play nice and stop accusing folks of committing crimes? (Mod)Seagullag: Not everyone has nothing better to do than stick around here. And yes, stop saying that Xenocorp is in cahoots with Villains. I don''t want to get hit by another unscheduled maintenance because you lot gossip too much on the wrong topics. MagicIsTragic: Then why are you here, you old bird? (Mod)Seagullag: Because if I weren''t, you''d have this chatroom killed by the end of the day. I can''t afford you monkeys to leave this cage, who knows how much trouble you''d cause everywhere else. KillLaKrill: I''m not a monkey, I''m a merman. (Mod)Seagullag: You''re fifty percent monkey, that''s enough to qualify, fish. MagicIsTragic: Hey, I''m not a monkey! I''m a distinguished young lady and a master of the mystical arts! (Mod)Seagullag: You''re a manic magic monkey. KillLaKrill: As always, a moderator indulges in tyranny. KillLaKrill has been muted by Moderator Seagullag. Reason: Disrespected a moderator. TechnoGogo: You''re not helping your case, here. (Mod)Seagullag: You know I won''t keep him silent for long. Sass is as vital as air for this brat. I''ll let him be in a minute or two. MagicIsTragic: Does a merman need air? Are they like dolphins? JamesIsInTheDark: Everyone needs air, it''s a matter of intake. Fish have gills, aquatic mammals don''t. TechnoGogo: That''s right. I''m unsure as to which subgroup Krill belongs to, but it doesn''t matter here. Not that he is genuinely at risk of suffocating in the first place anyway. MagicIsTragic: Golems don''t need air. JamesIsInTheDark: Everyone who''s made of meat without any magical or supernatural shenanigans. TechnoGogo: What about aliens? JamesIsInTheDark: They may not always use oxygen, but they still breathe. Even plants do. So yes, the air they use may be different from ours, but it''s still air. KillLaKrill has been demuted. KillLaKrill: I LIVE! And for the record, I can breathe on land and underwater. I''m one of the lucky guys like that. TechnoGogo: Alas, and here I thought perhaps you''d choke if you tried to speak on land. MagicIsTragic: You can always do it yourself. Anyway, fun aside, I seriously want you to reconsider, Techno. If Silence is right, then this could even be the opportunity for us to experiment with one of the rarest Aspects around! TechnoGogo: I''ll think about it. MagicIsTragic: Please do. KillLaKrill: You''re sounding almost desperate there, Magic. Is everything alright? MagicIsTragic: Yeah, yeah. It''s just that I want to seize this opportunity before it vanishes. Silhouette is our best bet at truly becoming renowned in the field rather than just another pair of shmucks wasting away at some assembly line. TechnoGogo: Magic... KillLaKrill: Getting a little too real for me, there. TechnoGogo: Oh hush you. KillLaKrill: Aye aye, captain. (Mod)Seagullag: As someone who did work at an assembly line, I can understand your wish for more. Just remember not to sacrifice too much to achieve your dream. I''ve met quite a few people who got what they wanted but were far too broken to enjoy or sometimes even realize it. MagicIsTragic: Don''t worry, I''m not selling my soul to a demon. KillLaKrill: Giving it to capitalism isn''t that much better, to be fair. TechnoGogo: Magic, you''re the one who keeps up with the news surrounding Silhouette the most. Don''t pretend you haven''t the rumors. KillLaKrill: Wait, what rumors? TechnoGogo: That Silhouette might actually be a demon. Folks who study that sort of stuff say there are weird energies emanating from the Penumbral Palace. KillLaKrill: Oh. Yeah, that changes things. JamesIsInTheDark: Oh, I heard about that one for once! I can tell you it isn''t true. KillLaKrill: Oh? Can you share it with the rest of the class? JamesIsInTheDark: It''s the guy Silhouette hired to study the Nightsnatcher in the first place. Mesker Duskenfer. He''s some big-shot demonologist, he wouldn''t let a demon scheme the downfall of the city or whatever it is those usually do. KillLaKrill: Wouldn''t a demonist be the exact kinda guy to help demons? MagicIsTragic: Demonologist, not demonist. They don''t support or worship demons, they study them. Most are also exorcists. I can confirm Mesker Duskenfer The Third is reliable, he comes from a long line of exorcists and has a long career of banishing malicious creatures. Didn''t I bring him up at some point? JamesIsInTheDark: I think you did. Someone else told me more about him, but if I remember right you''re the one who first taught me his name. TechnoGogo: If Silhouette isn''t a demon, then what are those strange readings? There is something suspicious going on at the very least. MagicIsTragic: Using demons or demonic artifacts as security isn''t anything new. Besides, legally registered demons are free to roam and be employed. And again, if he''s working with both Duskenfer and Decanov, two men notorious for not toleration any nonsense, then it''s very unlikely Silhouette is up to something. TechnoGogo: Alright, I trust you. Just be careful. MagicIsTragic: I have a feeling you won''t want to collaborate. (Mod)Seagullag: Alright, I think it''s time to break off this topic. Krill, do something. KillLaKrill: What am I, some sort of clown? (Mod)Seagullag: No. A clown would be funny. KillLaKrill: I''m going to turn you into nuggets as soon as I get my hands on you.
Chapter 178 : Rookies at the scene Sarah, in her white Hero trainee bodysuit, felt a bit queasy. She wasn''t the only one; this was her group''s first time on an actual crime scene, and that was plain to see. They''d been going on patrols in the streets for a week now, each time accompanied and overseen by a senior Hero, both to keep an eye on their work and ensure they didn''t bite off more than they could chew. This wasn''t even the first time they got called to lend a hand to the police, but so far it had been to act as reinforcement to chase a suspect or keep an eye on strange happenings. This... This was a bloody mess. She forced the bile rising in her throat back down again when she spared another glance at the still dripping red dent in the armored truck''s side. Those things were made to resist the average level of super strength at the very least, and this one was one of those meant to escort sapient robots and machines deemed too dangerous to be held at the Institue to their new home, a prison rated for the upper end of Super individuals, at least relative to those present in Zalcien. The fact it had been so damaged, and the way this damage had occurred... At least the group had arrived after the remains had already been taken care of. The police had insisted the trainees weren''t here to investigate, they were just here to be briefed on the suspect and what to look for going forward in their patrol. In fact, the officer in charge was opposed to their presence in the first place. It was their Hero overseer who decided they should come and be exposed to the sorts of things they may face as Heroes, a form of test to see if they could truly stand that career choice. Sarah could see the logic in that. It was just uncomfortable that it was her uncle who was responsible. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, wearing his Firefighter costume and chatting with the overweight officer in charge, his bushy blonde mustache full of crumbs. She could see the cop shaking his head as a junior officer came to him with a question, though she wasn''t close enough to hear. Well, she could have listed in if she really tried, but she had no reason to. She trusted her uncle to share everything they needed to know and the police to do their job. Not to mention, the sight of the aftermath of the massacre had killed any curiosity she might have had. The same went for the rest of her teammates. Kopper Kid was looking pale, a great contrast to his usual dark skin, but his expression was surprisingly calm. It likely had to do with how he kept an arm wrapped around Glicer Glitter, the usually cheerful energetic girl standing still with a distressed look on her face. To see the childish lover of glitter look that way was heartbreaking, but it made her uncle''s reasoning all the more justified: Glicer was nice and had proven to be a good fighter in training, but that was again robots in a controlled environment. Real life wasn''t as kind. Heroes couldn''t always arrive on time or save everyone. Scareowl''s avian face wasn''t the greatest to emote, his beak wasn''t as flexible as lips would be, but the way his feathers hung down told her enough. She had to give it to him though, out of the entire group, he was the only one of them who dared to study the scene, his eyes searching for all possible evidence. Whether it was to see if his conclusion would be the same as the police''s as a form of training or if it was to look for any hint they might have missed, she didn''t know. Elaimant was the one who took the scene the best. Their form was even worse than Scareowl''s to discern what they thought, but she had been around them long enough to see they weren''t as disturbed as the rest. Which, when she thought about it, made sense. Elaimant wasn''t an organic. They understood what this scene meant, but it didn''t impact them as much, just like seeing the corpse of a golem wouldn''t move her quite like a pool of blood would. Maledicta was... Uncharacteristically silent. She wasn''t complaining or insulting the others, a habit they had yet to knock out of her despite their improvements when it came to teamwork. She was just standing there, leaning against a police car. At first glance, it looked like she had her arms crossed but looking a little closer Sarah realized she was actually holding her upper arms. She was no psychiatrist, but she knew this was a sign the drow was at the very least unnerved. It was no guarantee there was a good person beneath that prickly personality, but it was proof she wasn''t Villain material. Her uncle''s whistling broke her out of her thoughts. She and the rest of the trainees walked up to him, and despite her best efforts, she had no success in figuring out what he was thinking behind that yellow helmet of his. She never saw her uncle as someone whose emotions could be hard to figure out, but she supposed this was also the first time she got to see him truly do his job in person rather than the usual guarding or training stuff back in the Headquarters. "Alright everyone, gather round. Are you feeling okay?" Meek nods answered him. "Alright. If anyone needs some time, don''t hesitate to say it. We''ll accompany you back to the base where you can get rest or choose to go home. There''s no shame in taking time to heal, and that applies to mental health just as much as the physical one." Glicer''s eyes drifted left and right before focusing back on Firefighter, a serious look on her face. Sarah didn''t miss how hard the diminutive girl was squeezing Kopper Kid''s, though he did not comment on it. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "Alright. So, this is the sad truth of a Hero''s work. Like all professions that aim to help and save people, sometimes, you have to deal with the aftermath of when help wasn''t there. This was a particularly gruesome scene, but cleaned as it was it isn''t any worse than what we usually show trainees. Because while this is an important step in your education, we''d never throw you at a corpse without easing things in first." He gestured at the officer walking back to his men as he gave one last wave to the Hero group. "This officer kindly informed me of what their team figured happened here. Before I share it, do any of you have any idea?" Scareowl raised a wing. "Sir, this looks like an attack on a transport vehicle. There were only a few traces of blood inside the vehicle, so if the normally present guards weren''t absent then it means most of the fighting happened outside. The attackers broke in and handled the guards in the back with ease, so the blood either comes from the guard at the front after they got out or some infighting happened between the attackers." "Sound reasoning. Anyone else?" Sarah''s eyes wandered back to the dent in the truck. "The blood looks like it all came from one person, the one who got... The one whose head was banged against the van. If they were the only person to be so hurt, maybe this was some kind of punishment?" "I see the logic. Anyone else?" Surprisingly, it was Maledicta who spoke up this time. "Three attackers. One used energy weapons, one blunt force brute, and the last one some kind of gas attack, I think. Maybe there were more, but these were their means of attack." "Oh? Could you elaborate?" "The bullet marks all come from the inside, fits in with what guards are usually equipped with. The energy weapons left some burns, it''s how I know they were what stopped the vehicle in the first place. For the gas, the front doors weren''t forced but they have no other sign of struggle, so something that slipped through is the logical answer. For the brute, we have the back doors and the butchery at the side." "Alright. Anyone else?" This time no one answered. "Alright. Maledicta, you''ve got most of it. This vehicle was transporting a patient of the Institute. They were attacked by a trio of opportunists low-level Supers, Ballistic, Pink, and Finger Gunner. They''re not a formal group, but this isn''t their first team-up. The last one is more solitary than the other two, but he''s also smart enough not to plan big hits by himself. Evidence shows they were preparing an attack on a jewelry store nearby when they noticed the transport and tried their luck." He turned his arm to show the small screen attached to one of his gauntlets, a small picture of an android appearing. "Ballistic is a powerful robot with high defense but without any integrated weapons aside from his physique. His body has a quirk, it heals damage. Nothing to the level of a cut limb, but a hail of bullets is effectively useless against him. He''s our brute." He swiped, and this time it showed a mutant. "Pink is an axolotl and another regenerator, unlike her robotic accomplice she can regrow lost parts. Her metabolism lets her work off most toxins, she''s known to inject herself with dangerous cocktails before operations to use different tactics, making her unpredictable. She''s the one who knocked out the front guards, she let out noxious fumes." One more swipe. This time, it was a cowboy-wannabe. He looked like a regular human, but it was hard to be sure with the bandana and the big hat covering most of the face. "Finger Gunner. His only known power is the ability to shoot energy bullets out of his fingertips, with their power varying based on the time spent charging. It may not sound like much, but they can get strong enough to pierce metal, and that''s all a good shot needs. He''s also the only one of the three whose real identity was unknown until now. We now know he''s John Jameson, an accountant in one of the Union''s subsidiaries. He was not high enough in the hierarchy to be privy to important information, but we suspect he used his position to gather information from colleagues to know when to lay low." He put down his arm. "Those are our attackers, and also our victims. Two are confirmed dead, the last one is up in the air but the police aren''t optimistic." Kopper blinked a few times. "Wait. Sir. How can they be the attackers and the victims?" "They attacked the vehicle and successfully took care of the guards. No one was killed, but most will need some time to recuperate. That''s where things take a turn for the worse: they failed to realize the danger the patient being transported posed and got taken by surprise. The prisoner took over Ballistic''s body, destroyed his original head, used Pink as a shield from Finger Gunner, and then had fun killing him. We suspect police sirens chased him off before he could take care of the guards as well." The trainees all had a similar reaction, their eyes widening in shock as the horror of the situation came back in force. Even Elaimant, despite their lack of eyes, let out a white noise from the momentary lapse in the control of their natural magnetic field. "That''s where we are now. The patient, known as G433, is now out in the streets in the body of Ballistic. It''s unclear if the original AI could be recovered at this point. We suspect G433 to have access to Ballistic''s memories and to be using them to find somewhere to hide. You shouldn''t be involved in this case from there on out, but I will show you a police sketch of how we expect him to look by now. Should you spot this individual, immediately contact your tutor and leave the scene." This time he didn''t show the screen in his gauntlet but instead took out a paper from his utility belt. The drawing showed a body identical to the picture of Ballistic they had seen, but this time the head had been replaced by a bulky computer screen, along with some kind of tentacles coming from the back. A pixelated face with a sadistic smile was on the screen. Elaimant hummed. "Question: What more do we know of this G433?" "From what the director of the Institute told us, he is some sort of virtual amalgam, a forgotten science experiment a century old. He was recently recovered and brought to the Institute by an anonymous individual, though knowing Dominique''s history I have a guess as to who it is. Regardless, G433 has been hostile since discovery and the reason behind its transport was an unsuccessful attempt at body snatching. They theorize his odd composition allows him to better integrate foreign components. He has become a high-priority target so, again, if you post him, report it but do not engage." The trainees nodded as seriously as they could despite how sick they felt. Firefighter had a feeling he would have to bail them out of a fight by the end of the week. Chapter 179 : Rookies and the machine "Are you sure about this, Mister Marley? The team and I weren''t done designing the-" "Silence, Yassim. With Silhouette threatening to take over this branch of the industry, we need something to show the public we are still the best without revealing our investors'' pet projects. We need the Zero Gun to work, and we need it ready for yesterday." "I understand, sir, but-" "Yassim, you''ve been a loyal worker for years, but I must insist. Either you fire this prototype on one of the testing range''s usual targets, or your successor will be firing on a brand new one, one much more suited for the Zero Gun''s actual use. Am I clear?" "Ye-Yes sir. You heard him everyone, prepare the initial test!" "Excellent. Call me back when you''re done, I wish to know all I need to ensure the best future possible for our brand new star product."
Firefighter was watching the trainees finish breaking a fight between two drunk men when he received a call. A few seconds later he had to cut the sortie short. "Alright everyone, good job there. Sadly that will be all for today. There''s been an incident at one of Xenocorp''s testing subsidiaries and I have to go take care of the flames. You head back to the Headquarters, the Legions will tell you whether you''re done for the day or if you have a new tutor. Be careful." The six Hero trainees saluted their senior as with a stomp he summoned a jet of water to send him high into the air, one of Mecha Man''s iconic bee drones catching the hydrokinesist before the pair flew off into the distance. The trainees watched the Hero''s departure in silence, something that quickly became awkward when they still were standing there without speaking after he left. Kopper Kid had to take a deep breath before breaking the ice. "So... Are we going back or not?" Firefly turned towards her classmate aghast. "Of course we''re going back! It''s what we''re supposed to do!" Maledicta groaned as she rolled her eyes. "Come on, Girl Scout. This is our first opportunity to do our job without some overbearing fossil telling us what to do. I say we use this opportunity to show what we can really do. "You can''t just do that, Maledicta! Scareowl, say something!" "Tempting as proving our capabilities is, I agree with Firefly. The Legions drilled respecting protocol into us, and I''d rather not ruin all our progress so far because I thought we could take bigger targets than more experienced veterans deemed us ready to." "Thank you!" Kopper coughed, or at least did his best impression of a polite cough. It wasn''t very good. "Uh, hey... I know all that, but... We always have the same patrol routes. There are tons of places where Heroes never go to on their usual watch, and I think maybe it''d be nice if we gave them a helping hand. Nothing Villain-worthy, I swear, but still places that would be happy to see Union people for once." The drow smirked at his little declaration. "And here I thought you were another goody two shoes. I''m impressed, Kopper." The fact the first time Maledicta properly used one of her teammates'' names was to compliment them on following her plan hadn''t escaped Sarah''s notice, but that wasn''t important right now. Something she didn''t like was shaping up to be in their near future, and she wouldn''t allow it! "Glicer, talk some sense into him!" The usually cheerful girl''s demeanor turning gloomy earlier had already been an uncomfortable turn, but her embarrassed expression now considering the current project made Sarah''s skin crawl. "Uh..." "Not you too..." "Look, after we saw today... I feel like we need to help out more. You know, to balance things out. Who knows, maybe we''ll run into the guy who did that!" "Glicer, we follow protocol because it''s what streamlines helping people! And no, we''re not fighting that guy! Didn''t you hear what Firefighter said? That AI''s too dangerous for us." Maledicta felt the need to interrupt, of course. "Come on, you coward. We''ve been fighting some of the more advanced Legion formations and specialized Union machines for weeks. What''s one little robot going to do against all of us?" "Elaimant, please!" "Affirmation: Following protocol is the optimal course. Observation: Half of the team desires to ignore orders and act independently. Proposition: Let us compromise and return to the Headquarters but take a so-called "scenic route" to visit otherwise unplanned destinations." Neither Maledicta nor Sarah were happy with the magnetic crystalline alien''s proposition, but both absolutely preferred that over the team splitting. Sarah because splitting the team would still be a breach of protocol that would reflect poorly and would put them in danger, and Maledicta because she knew as soon as Firefly and her half of the crew got to the base they would report the rogue half. Sarah would get her return trip, and Maledicta her detour. The other three were just as understanding. Scareowl wasn''t a rule-breaker usually but he wasn''t quite as obsessed with them as Firefly was. He didn''t like the team doing whatever they wanted, but at least this way he''d keep an eye on them. Glicer and Kopper on the other hand, while frustrated that they couldn''t visit as many of the places otherwise ignored by the Union, perfectly understood that if it was just down to the two of them and Maledicta, they would be putting themselves in unnecessary danger. Glicer may have been itching to teach that murderer a lesson, but she was perfectly aware a team of three wouldn''t be enough. After all, there had been three people attacking the transport vehicle. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Neither Sarah nor Maledicta wanted to be the first one to agree, though. Their pride wouldn''t let them. Thankfully the two weren''t on their own, and Scareowl was well aware of what was going on. "I think that''s a nice idea, Elaimant. Does everyone agree?" Glicer and Kopper nodded, and with some grumbling so did the two girls too. "Good. Kopper and Elaimant, help me plan our path. I''ll be the one scouting ahead, you know."
Twenty minutes later their unofficial patrol on their way back was well on its way. They were still within a reasonable time frame for the Union not to worry, and by the time they got back, they would be a little late but still within the realm of forgiveness. They did have to stop a few times, but nothing major happened. A cat stuck on a roof, some kids tagging the side of a building, and someone losing their keys down a sewer drain. Maledicta looked frustrated to be unable to fight anything, but Sarah was pleased to see the rest of her teammates were perfectly content with casually helping people this way. Heroes were here to help folks, fighting bad guys was just one way to do that. That peaceful stroll came to a stop once more when the sound of alarms rang nearby. The crew hurried there, with the flying Scareowl getting a look at what was happening first. His already large eyes widened in shock before he called out to the other trainees below him. "That''s the guy from earlier!" Sarah felt her heart skip a beat. They weren''t ready for a real Villain yet, but they couldn''t just let him do whatever he pleased and risk killing people. "Scareowl, go and help people evacuate! Elaimant, carry Maledicta and you, start casting!" The bird nodded before flapping his wings and disappearing behind a building while the magnetic alien picked up their troublemaking teammate and placed her on their shoulder. The seriousness of the situation was enough for the drow not to complain at the whole ordeal, instead immediately starting to whisper incantations as tears of blood began to flow down her cheeks. Sarah''s light powers gathered at her feet and she began to skate, going much faster and leaving the four other trainees behind as she rushed to the source of the alarm, now accompanied by screams. Glicer did her best to catch up by using light blasts of pink flames to launch herself forward in leaps, and while it was enough to go faster than the other three she still couldn''t keep up with Firefly. Turning around a corner Sarah finally got to see the source of the trouble, and she let out a sigh of relief when she didn''t spot any blood or body in the vicinity. That small victory didn''t mean she was reassured, though. The storefront of a small electronics store had been smashed in and people ran away in fear as something appeared to be rampaging inside, going by the view of some sort of tentacle whipping through the air to grab a hairdryer before dragging it back somewhere. Scareowl called out to her from above. "Everyone''s left, it''s just him inside! Try to get him out." "I''m on it!" She took a deep breath as she readied a blast, her fist glowing more and more as she poured all the energy she could into it. As she prepared her attack, she finally got to get a good look at her target, walking between two aisles. At first glance, he appeared to be exactly like what the police sketch predicted. His body was the one he had stolen from Ballistic and his head was an old-school computer screen, but looking closer she noticed differences. The tentacles weren''t just coming from the back, there were more wrapped around the limbs, looking almost like oversized veins. Not only that but modifications had been made. Small parts and devices had been implanted and attached here and there, and Sarah got to see firsthand those tentacles disassembling that hairdryer she had seen along with other things, the devices falling to pieces in seconds before those were scooped up and rebuilt into something right in the middle of the android''s chest. She couldn''t tell what before the odd malleable metallic flesh of Ballistic grew back to cover it, an odd boxy shape between what would have been pectorals on a human being the only hint that what Sarah had seen had truly happened. She briefly wondered if her attack would count as lethal force, something Heroes weren''t supposed to use outside of major emergencies, but she squashed down her doubts as she let loose the strongest blast she had ever made. After what that man had done to those who had freed him, what he would do to those who opposed him wasn''t something she wanted to find out. The ball of light flew through the air and hit the robot square in the chest, bursting with a flash that even Sarah struggled to see through despite the innate abilities granted to her by her powers. She readied more blasts anyway because what little she could see didn''t look good. The end of the flash fully revealed the sight of Ballistic''s burned torso, most of its synthetic flesh gone revealing the skeleton within and all the additions G433 had made that had been hidden so far. Sarah was horrified to see how many of them there truly were, the new gizmos'' complicated forms clashing with the otherwise surprisingly simplistic frame. The pixelated face on the computer screen that served as his head glitched out, various broken expressions and lines of codes appearing and disappearing and combining hundreds of times in a matter of seconds before settling on a sadistic grin. An artificial voice chuckled maliciously as metallic grew back, regenerating and repairing all the damage Sarah had caused as the AI''s head turned to fully face her. "Ah, how pleasant/surprising/horrifying/scary/fun/lovely/dreadful/predictable to see you! A Hero came to save the day!" The AI frowned at his own words. Judging by how his screen glitched during his first sentence and that jumbled mess, perhaps he wasn''t quite as confident or stable as he liked. "Ugh, disagreements are troublesome. Wouldn''t you agree, little Hero? Otherwise, why would you be here alone?" His grin returned. "I may be old, but so is the Union. Predictable lot they are. I may have never seen the light of day until recently, but my database still features all important information related to Zalcien. I know what the Union has its trainees wear, and I know you little children aren''t supposed to be on your own." Sarah fired a pair of blasts at his chest again. He didn''t bother to block and chuckled again, even as his torso was blown apart. "Oh, this new body is quite enjoyable. Such a drastic change from an old box forgotten in a dusty lab. Better than the pile of scraps I had managed to put together. Yes, I''m certain that if I had been given such a form in the first place, I wouldn''t have been sent to this dreadful Institute." His body regenerated again and he began to step forward. "You went there because you''re dangerous!" "Oh, so now you talk!" In the blink of an eye, the robot went from calmly walking out to leaping forward with his hand outstretched, ready to grab Sarah by the throat if she hadn''t leaped back in turn. Unfortunately, arms weren''t his only appendages. Cables burst forth and wrapped around her arm, holding her back and dragging her towards the AI. Blades of air fell from the sky and cut the cables in a snap, freeing Sarah and bringing G433 to look upwards and notice the other trainee flying above. It was at this precise moment that a pink and sparkly fireball exploded against his head, sending it spinning before he forcefully stopped the movement with one hand to look at the small girl that had assaulted him, a fierce and enraged look on her face. He looked annoyed before strangely getting delighted. "Oh, you remind me of someone. Some little brats that put me down before." He chuckled again as he ran forward, his hand turning a fist to punch Firefly as small bumps on his shoulders exploded to reveal miniature defense turrets that began to fire at Glicer and Scareowl. "I''m going to vent some frustrations!" Chapter 180 : Rookies first Villain Sarah ducked beneath the demented AI''s fist before answering in kind with a kick to his chest, her foot brightly shining with light as it pushed him back. Meanwhile, Glicer formed a wall of pink fire to catch the bullets flying her way from the turrets on the android''s shoulders. Scareowl instead dived down, his speed letting him escape the volley aimed at him. G433 cackled as another contraption activated on his chest, flames spilling out in Firefly''s direction, forcing her to throw herself to the side instead of continuing her attack. The robot turned to follow but took a light-coated fist to the screen, sending its computer spinning. The direction was enough to spare Sarah from getting burned, though her opponent quickly recovered. Blades spurted out of G433''s fingers and he slashed at the Hero trainee, the young woman evading the wide attacks while firing off bolts of light at every opportunity, the attacks much weaker when they weren''t charged but much faster and enough to briefly stagger the murderous machine. A pink fireball exploded against his back, disturbing his balance and leaving an opening for Scareowl to launch a powerful gust of wind, nearly sending the AI to the ground before it caught itself. Sarah gladly took the opportunity to put more distance between the machine and herself, especially when he chuckled again. It was only now she noticed the red on his fingers and a stinging sensation on her waist caught up to her brain, though her adrenaline let her ignore that for now. "Oh, you kids are so much fun/trouble. However, I can''t tell if you''re better than the last brats. Not yet, at least. Is my new body this good? Was that greater number such an advantage? Or is it teamwork perhaps?" Sarah scowled, but he had a point. So far, she had essentially been fighting him on her own while her allies only sent an attack to distract him occasionally. She didn''t blame them, their training had taught them that fighting a single opponent as a group was a difficult exercise with a constant risk of friendly fire. Not to mention, something that would stun that machine would more than likely kill anyone else on the team bar maybe Elaimant. Speaking of which, the magnetic alien and the gloomy drow he carried finally arrived. How could she tell? Aside from the heavy stomps of Elaimant''s scrap body, Maledicta didn''t wait a second to unleash the curse she had been preparing, phantasmal red vines growing from her bloodstained wrists into the ground before bursting back out to ensnare the mad machine, thorns lashing at him as the vines did their best to crush him, forming a cocoon in the middle of the street. Elaimant carefully put down Maledicta, doing their best not to disrupt her incantation, before taking control of as much neighboring metal as they could. Seeing streetlamps rise in the air and bending and breaking to become stakes was an eye-catching spectacle, though one Sarah and the others had gotten used to in training. Instead, they all carefully watched the cocoon the antipathic drow had created, well on their guard. Aside from Kopper Kid that is, not because he didn''t take the situation seriously but rather because he had to snatch one of Elaimant''s stakes to arm himself, his basic superstrength leaving him with no other solution to attack at a distance should the curse fail. That decision proved its worth when the cocoon burst apart, the vines fading into nothing as cables emerging from the android''s back spun like sawblades, something he made use of as soon as he was out by lunging toward Firefly before the stake Kopper had been holding impaled the machine. The cables redirected their attention from the trainees to the object anchoring the robot down, cutting to pieces that fell to the ground. While G433 took care of this stake, Elaimant threw their own. The alien wasn''t the only one to attack, with Glicer and Firefly launching more projectiles while Maledicta began preparing another spell. Scareowl for his part used the brief opening to call the Union for help, activating his outfit''s emergency signal, something that would contact the Legions of the Headquarters and notify nearby Heroes that reinforcements were needed. Pierced by dozens of metal poles, the AI continued to laugh. More cables emerged all over its form to rip them out as more gizmos and contraptions activated, a repurposed fan placed between what would have been shoulderblades spinning and propelling him back to avoid the next volley of light and fire. As a follow up he pointed his arm forward and the knives that had previously been attached to his fingers flew off, Elaimant barely stopping them before they landed on Sarah''s and Glicer''s faces. The machine chuckled again at the failure. "Yes, you''re better than the last rats, I''m sure of it now. How delightful. Here''s hoping I can find them again when I''m done with you." Kopper scoffed before picking up a scooter and tossing it at the machine. "We''re not done yet!" G433 casually caught the vehicle, only for Elaimant to use their powers and rip it to shreds that immediately began to swarm the robot. Some strange boxy thing in his hip sparked to life and let out a blue burst that pushed back the assaulting shrapnel, followed by a glowing red orb being fired out one of his pectorals aimed straight at Kopper. The young man barely had time to throw himself to the side before it detonated, sending him rolling as flames began to lick at his uniform. Glicer let out a scream. "Kopper!" The shortest member of the Hero team ran towards her friend only to be pulled back by the collar by Sarah, barely in time to stop the younger girl from getting her head cut off by a metal disk fired from the Villain''s forearm. The attack did graze her, but only to the point of leaving a very small surface cut on her neck. Her eyes widened in shock before she threw pink sparkly flames at the android that he completely ignored. The machine cackled before trying again only to be disrupted by a new volley of sharp wind blades from Scareowl, leaving the perfect opening for Maledicta to unleash a new spell. This curse came from violet smoke she breathed out her moth, the malevolent magic fumes crawling on the ground before climbing the metallic body and covering it, beginning to eat away at the synthetic flesh. G433''s smile on the screen widened as a new gizmo kicked into gear in his left chin, a rainbow sheen growing to cover his form and shield him from the acidic magical gas. The drow cursed. "Oh, come on!" He laughed. "Oh, little girl, you have no hope." Sarah launched another supercharged light bolt at the computer''s head only for him to collapse before the hit could connect, falling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut before twisting on himself and getting back up right in time for his arms to catch the washing machine Elaimant threw at him. Sarah dashed beneath it and kicked the robot''s knees, sending him back to the ground for Glicer to unleash the hottest flames she had ever produced, releasing a constant stream that soon had the asphalt bubbling. Sarah was already out of the way by that point, Scareowl having dived down to catch her and send another gust to keep the Villain down long enough for Glicer''s attack to connect. Even as rage and murderous fury covered the young girl''s face, the others still prepared more attacks rather than try and calm her down. It had become clear by that point that the rogue AI gestalt was incredibly resilient. Truth be told, even as asphalt bubbles popped, Sarah feared they wouldn''t be able to beat the escaped patient and she dreaded the possibility that might tire themselves out before an older Hero could arrive to save the day. Kopper was already out, and judging by how erratic Glicer''s breathing was by that point, Sarah doubted the younger girl could last much longer either.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Her worries were confirmed when the mad synthetic cackling resumed. The glowing white figure of G433 pushed against the ground until with a disgusting squelch he successfully ripped himself off the viscous asphalt. Cables, now fused by the heat, covered the head and the joints as the machine stepped forward. Glicer''s fire died out as she teetered on her feet, watching the robot in horror before Elaimant sent their hand forward to catch her and drag her back. The burning assault over the android resumed moving its cables, the appendages cracking as they broke apart. The now-revealed head did show that the attack had an impact though. The screen occasionally flickered and the computer was warped in some spots. Even the body struggled to regenerate the damage this time, the synthetic flesh dripping down almost as fast as it grew back, leaving bits of the endoskeleton and its impromptu modifications exposed. Not enough for them to impede the machine''s fighting prowess, but hopefully they could take advantage of these new weak spots. And yet, despite it all, G433 was still happy. "Oh boy, that sure was one hot shower. Ah. Ah. Ahahahahahahahaha! Ah..." The screen scowled. "That was terrible. Let''s put humor on the back burner until I can salvage some good program for it." The gestalt paused before groaning at his own pun. "Oh, the downside of being a combination of multiple incomplete minds. There are always a few sneaking in some things against the consensus. Not that you would the feeling, of course." Still in Elaimant''s arms, Glicer finally ran out of energy. She fell unconscious, and the alien carefully put her down behind them to shield her from further attacks and free their hands for what would come next. Meanwhile, G433 continued his monologue. "Well, not quite. I had time to learn, to analyze data over and over for a century, and more recently to ponder what I was allowed to know in that Institute. Those studies on the brain''s hemispheres were fascinating. Did you know of the rising theories that in truth there are at least two minds in all things, one is merely an incomplete jumble of instincts and senses subservient to the other? Delightful stuff. For once I felt some hint of a connection between myself and my makers." He placed a hand on his forehead, leaving imprints of molten synthetic flesh on his screen. "But truly, I must thank you, children. You have taught me a valuable lesson. Compiling the information learned from this encounter and comparing it to historical records, I now have a good idea of what to expect from the modern world''s warriors. That last attack, for instance, showed me the flaws in my current design I need to correct. I''ll need something to better take care of all this heat." Sarah and Maledicta exchanged a look. There was something they had technically come up with while training, but both of them disliked the other too much to truly practice it before. Time for that to change. "Scareowl, Elaimant, can you hold him down?" The computer made a pixelated eyebrow solely to raise it. "Oh? Something in mind? I''m afraid this fun has gone on for too long. We wouldn''t want the real Heroes to come and rain down on my parade." Something clicked in the machine''s legs and suddenly it lunged forward, only to be punched in the side by Elaimant''s large scrap fist, sending the android tumbling for a few seconds before he got back up, this time using his cables as springs to launch himself in the air as more gizmos glowed and fell out his body. The avian trainee blew gusts of wind once more, this time trying to blow back the explosives to their original owner. What the owl failed to realize was this was a ruse, G433 using the propeller in his back to reorient his course midair to grab the bird by the throat before plummeting to the ground, cushioning his fall with the feathery body of the youngster. Elaimant let out a dissonant screech before giving up on maintaining a humanoid form, the avatar of scraps bursting out of their uniform and turning the clothing to shreds as instead it became a tornado of metal, shrapnel surrounding and cutting the robot before converging back into a single solid mass, trying to crush the AI like Maledicta had attempted with her curse. Sadly, much like her vines, Elaimant''s attempt was blown away. The stolen body of the robot was undoubtedly damaged to the point it couldn''t heal anywhere as fast as it did when the fight first began, but it was still perfectly functional, unlike the now dismantled body of Elaimant. Left without anything to defend themself, the crystalline alien''s true self, the pyramid in its iridescent bubble, fell victim to G433''s ripost. With another click of the legs, the android was punching the protective sphere with enough force to send it through a wall. Out of view as it was Sarah couldn''t tell if it had popped or not, but what she was sure of was that her friend was unlikely to make a comeback before the fight was over. She gritted her teeth as the machine turned to grin at her. "Down to two. I had hoped to test more of my creations, but I will admit the short''s one fire ruined most of my preparations. A shame." "Now Mal!" The drow and the human girls screamed in tandem, putting their all in this last attack. Bloody phantom vines ensnared him, a hold he could easily break in a matter of seconds but that would hopefully give the trainees enough time to act. Maledicta''s scream went higher and higher, turning into a veritable banshee''s cry as putrid red and violet magics mixed in a violent wave, one that began to spiral around the biggest power beam Sarah ever made, magic dancing around the light and making it spin like a drill. The combined attacks hit the machine square in the torso and metal screeched in response. One second. Two. Three. Four. By the fifth, they were already struggling to continue, but they didn''t give up. Six. Seven. Eight. Maledicta''s knees shook until she fell, but despite it, she continued to pour out everything her body had to give. Nine. This time it was Sarah''s turn to run out of enough to keep standing. Feeling her fall coming she oriented her legs to ensure her beam wouldn''t be disrupted, trusting Maledicta''s more malleable curse to adapt to the shift in origin. Ten. The tenth second marked the end of the light show, and both of the trainees were now completely drained. Maledicta fell unconscious, and Sarah didn''t miss the trails of blood leaking from the drow''s wrists and eyes. She knew the other girl''s curses took their toll, but she hoped she hadn''t just ruined her chances at a Hero career with this stunt. Sarah might have disliked her attitude, but when things were dire she showed there truly was a spark of Heroism beneath all the cynicism and cruel mockeries. Still, Sarah wasn''t alone on the street. Her gaze turned to the machine and a spark of hope blossomed in her heart. G433''s torso was almost entirely gone, only a thin needle of a spine left to keep the shoulders and waist connected, aided by flaps of synthetic flesh drawing the contour of the hollow circle the attack left behind. At this point, she expected a faint breeze to be enough to finally break the machine in two. At the very least she was comforted to know they had gotten rid of whatever other tricks the machine had kept hidden there. Her hopes didn''t live long when she turned her eyes upward to look at his face. He was still smiling. "Well, gosh. That sure was horrible/meaningless/terrifying/terrible/beautiful/inspiring/charming/dangerous/impressive/harmless/fun." The smile dropped. "I''m going to kill you now." Synthetic flesh grew back to cover the hole. Sarah took some measure of pride in seeing him struggle to keep his upper body standing as he began to walk towards her. Regenerative flesh or not, robot or not, ruining his spine was a devastating blow. Hopefully whoever went to take him down after them would have an easier time thanks to that. She surprised herself with that thought. Rather, the lack of worry surprised her. By all accounts, this was the end. Everyone on the team was down and a murderous Villain was very angry with them. Chances were none of them would survive. Still, there was no fear. She had done what she could. They had done their best. She was only disappointed they hadn''t done more in the end. That peaceful acceptance of death shattered when instead of continuing his march to her fallen body, G433 stopped at Maledicta instead. "What... Are..." "What am I doing? Well, seeing as you got on my nerves, I''m going to hurt you. I''m going to rip out her spine and then use that to clobber you. Mental and physical torture in one, efficiency at its finest." Sarah''s eyes widened and she tried to drag herself in their direction. "No... No..." The most demented smile of the day graced the screen. "Yes!" G433 bent down and- A torrent came from the air and punted the machine against the wall before spinning, turning into a wheel that spun in place while keeping the robot beneath itself, shredding him. Firefighter, Sarah''s uncle Doug, came to her in the fastest jet of water she had ever seen him make. She only had enough strength to give him a small smile before her vision faded to black. Chapter 181 : Rookies recuperate When Sarah came to, it took at least a minute to realize where she was. The whiteness of everything around her would have clued her in, but the brightness of the sunlight turned the normally sterile look of a hospital room into a world of blinding light. Had her waking mind been any more conscious, she might have been worried she had reached some sort of afterlife. Thankfully for her, she only reached full awareness by the time it was obvious she was in a medical space. Although her instincts screeched for her to get up, her training kicked in and reminded her that waking up in a hospital bed meant any movement could be more harmful than anything. It wouldn''t do for a Hero to accidentally shatter their own bones just because they stirred a little too much while groggy. Her lack of movement didn''t stop her visitor from noticing her waking up, however. Still clad in his Hero suit, a red and blue single-body with a few pieces of yellow armor including his iconic firefighter helmet, was her uncle Doug. The bright colors of his attire clashed with the room yet somehow she hadn''t noticed him right away. It wasn''t the first time her uncle had evaded her perception casually - her father never let her forget that one time when she was nine she jumped in surprise and threw a cupcake at her own face - but it was another reminder of the difference between a trainee like herself and an experienced Hero. She looked at him, sitting in his chair at her side, his hands clasped together, and she smiled. "Hey, Firefighter." "No one''s listening, Sarah." "Thanks, Uncle Doug. Is everyone alright?" "They''re fine. Elaimant, Glicer, and you got off the easiest, but nobody''s been maimed." She let out a sigh of relief. "Can you tell me more?" "Sure. Glicer and you just used too much power. You just need some rest. That little cut on her neck should be gone in a few days. As for Elaimant, that robot didn''t get past their shield. They got knocked out but without damage to their crystal, they woke up earlier. When you feel ready for it, you can go and meet them." "And Glicer?" "She''s still asleep. She used more energy and her body wasn''t as ready. Doctors say she should be up by the end of the day." "I''m not surprised. You should have seen the fire she made" "Oh, I did. Well, the mark it left. That melted piece of road was impressive." He groaned as he leaned forward, his hands held together roughly where his mouth was behind his helmet. "Kopper got a few light burns and scrapes, but Scareowl''s the one who got the worst of it." She gulped. "How bad is it?" "Nothing life-threatening, but he''ll need some time to recuperate. A Cored''s natural resilience can only take so much, he''s going to need at least one month, maybe more. Avian bones aren''t the sturdiest, and that was a bad fall with the weight of a robot on top of that." "What about the long-term effects?" "He''ll be fine. The doctors say he''ll heal completely, it will just take some time. Nothing to worry about here. He''s lucky the rest of you kept that robot too busy to make sure to finish the job." Sarah looked away. "And Maledicta?" His face was covered but she could easily guess he frowned as he shifted on his seat. "I''m sure you''ve noticed that the girl''s magic is taxing. She studies a branch known to sacrifice health for power. I don''t approve, but Miss Malice keeps an eye on things to make sure she doesn''t go overboard. She used a lot, back there. She''ll be fine and back in action before your bird friend, but she won''t wake for a while at least." What little confidence Sarah had left deflated at that. She stared at the ceiling, completely disassociated from the hospital bed she was lying on. "Sarah..." "Let me guess. You''re not mad, just disappointed?" She spotted him shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. "I''m neither, Sarah. Do you think you''re the first kids who think they know better? Almost every Hero pulled a stunt like that when they first started. I was on duty before Malice switched sides, remember? She didn''t exactly follow the rules either." He sighed as he leaned back and crossed his arms. "There''s a reason you''re supposed to have minders. I can''t quite say it''s intentional, but it''s very predictable for trainees to get into a fight with a minor Villain at some point. Then, when things get out of hand, we are supposed to intervene." He groaned. "This is my fault. I was worried bringing you to the fire at that Xenocorp testing zone would be too dangerous, but look where that got you." She nearly leaped off her bed to stare at him. "Uncle Doug!" "You''re not supposed to be left alone, not for long anyway. Especially not when we know we have a new and unstable Villain on the loose." "You couldn''t just wait for someone else to arrive before you went, half of the city would have been on fire by then!"The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. He scoffed. "I''m not the only firefighter around, you know. Though, knowing Xenocorp, you probably aren''t too far off. No, I should have brought you with me and just have you wait on the side while I solved the problem." "You would have been distracted, they would have done something anyway." Her uncle crossed his legs and she had the distinct feeling he raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "''They'', uh? I had a feeling." Sarah''s cheeks turned red as she looked away. "You''re not the sort to cause troubles. Let me guess, the others wanted to be Heroes and you stuck around to make sure they wouldn''t do something stupid?" "And for our safety. But no! Not everyone wanted to!" "I''m not surprised, that''s how being a team goes. There''s a reason why I usually prefer to work solo. However, I will say if you plan for that group to become your permanent team when you''re ready, you should start thinking with ''we''." "But-" "They made a dumb decision you disagreed with? I know. But you acted as a team. Which was the right choice, by the way. You barely lasted long enough for me to arrive when you were all together, had any one of you been missing I doubt things would have gone that well. Regardless, that is how teams work. Stick together, fight together, win together, fail together. You can and should address issues caused by individual members, but remember that you will be perceived as a whole." Sarah scowled as she looked down. "..." "I told you, I prefer to work solo." "I... I think despite all that, I prefer a team." "Oh?" "We covered each other''s weaknesses. We bought time for the stronger attacks. We distracted the Villain each time he threatened to cause permanent damage." "And?" Sarah thought back to her days of training and studying, the time spent with the others. How Scareowl, Elaimant, and her helped Glicer and Kopper when they struggled to prepare for the written tests. How Glicer surprised everyone with glittery cupcakes to celebrate them successfully passing their big test. How the group helped Elaimant learn more about Terra Stellis, to adapt to this new planet. How Kopper, after getting used to his nervousness, proved to be an incredibly reliable young man. How they all brainstormed together to plan their future costumes. The blooming romance between Glicer and Kopper. "And they''re my friends..." A scowling drow berating them flashed through her mind. "Most of them." What followed was the sight of Maledicta wordlessly working with her, flawlessly combining their powers to unleash the only strike that ended up causing significant damage. The memory of the usually dismissive young woman fighting through her pain, harming herself just in the hope of taking down a monster. "But... There''s good in all of them." He hummed in thought before getting up. "Well, it looks like you all made quite a bit of progress on teamwork. I''m impressed." She couldn''t stop a small smile from forming. "Though do keep in mind, your team today isn''t definitive. You can always change your mind, and so can your friends. I had a hunch you''d be a team player, but you''ll see that Hero groups, even the most tight-knit teams, change with time. Nothing is set to stone." She nodded. "Alright. Take some time to yourself, and when you''re ready, meet me outside." "Uhm, Uncle Doug?" He stopped mid-walk. "Uh?" "What happened to the Villain?" The sound of crinkling brought her attention to his clenched fists. "He escaped." "What?" "It''s my fault. I thought the water wheel would suffice. I was wrong. He took advantage of me checking on each of you to run away." Sarah got to feel even more guilty than before. "No, it''s not-" "Yes, it is. Rather than use that wheel, I should have bubbled him up. He might have struggled, but it would have been clearer. Instead, he used the momentum of the wheel to throw himself away after abandoning Ballistic''s body. I let my emotions cloud my judgment." "But... If we had done better..." "You were fighting an unknown Villain, one who took advantage of your team''s struggles with singular powerful foes and your lack of options to deal with his regeneration. You already did better than anyone expected of you." He got back loser and gave her a gentle head pat. "We''ll get him, don''t worry. And trust me, your little team did much better than you think. I wouldn''t be surprised if Saline dropped by to give you some encouragement. The city always needs more Heroes." Sarah wasn''t very fond of being treated like a kid, but she couldn''t deny it felt nice and did ease her worries. Though, speaking of... "Thanks, Uncle Doug. Uh, by the way..." He paused his gesture of affection and removed his hand. "Yes, I told your parents." She grimaced. "Well, I told your mother. She is already used to that sort of thing from when I became a trainee. Whether or not she shares it with your father is up to her. Truthfully, in a normal situation, I wouldn''t have. You''re an adult, you signed the papers, and we''re not supposed to know about your private life. Personally, I think you''re still too young to keep all that to yourself. Not to mention, you''ll find living with people who know you get smashed into walls from time to time is far better than hiding it from them." He chuckled as he lightly shook his head. "Ah, the uni days were a mess. If it wasn''t for your mother, I would have gotten into heaps of trouble." "You? Get into trouble?" "Teachers don''t always appreciate students sleeping during lessons and all-nighters were far more common back then. There weren''t quite as many of us back then, Legions were rarer, and Villains were a far more chaotic bunch. The big groups are a nightmare to handle, but they do keep the independents in check most of the time." He sighed. "You kids won''t get called on emergencies as additional backup. We worked hard to make sure of it." He stood a little straighter. "Anyway, you should talk to your mother when your shift ends. I may have told her you are fine, but she''d probably prefer to hear it from you." Sarah nodded and this time her uncle truly left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
It took a few minutes for her to leave the room, still dressed in her trainee suit. Firefighter then accompanied her to a small lobby where she got to meet up with the other two members of her team who were up, Kopper and Elaimant. The young man''s black skin was covered in bandages in quite a few spots, giving him a mummy-like look when combined with the official white trainee uniform - doubly so both his clothing and bandages had lost their pristine white, dirtied by either the fight or his wounds. To be fair, Sarah''s own suit didn''t look much better. Elaimant on the other hand looked perfectly fine aside from their lack of suit, the metal scraps of their puppeteered body left bare for the world to see. Sarah remembered how much they tried to fit in with Terra Stellis'' humanoids, to the point even Saline, the director of their branch of the Hero Union, felt the need to bring up how wasteful the alien''s wish to keep an anthropomorphized form was. That they had shed all pretense when things turned dire was... Well, it felt obvious, but she knew not all people with this sort of complex could go against their instincts that easily. She joined the pair and together, monitored by her uncle, they went to visit the others. Glicer was first, and aside from a few scrapes, she looked perfectly fine at a glance if you looked past how she seemed to be having quite a bad nightmare. Her agitated sleep turned much calmer as soon as Kopper took her hand, even after he left her so that the trio could drop by Scareowl. The avian was awake but completely encased in plaster, and while saddened by the sight Sarah couldn''t deny there was a very faint feeling of amusement at the way his fluffy feathers burst out his collar, making his head look much bigger than it truly was compared to his body. He was a little groggy but he was happy to see the others were fine. The group would have likely stayed a little longer if it hadn''t been for a nurse shooing them out of the room. And lastly came Maledicta. Sarah didn''t know what to expect, and yet the peacefully sleeping drow surprised her still. The young woman who always acted so negatively looked almost serene in unconsciousness, and the only hint she had been using horrible curses only a few hours beforehand was how her already pale skin was even lighter, even the trails of bloody tears flowing down her face earlier had disappeared. The same thought went through all three of the relatively fine rookies. They would be stronger next time. Chapter 182 : Applications commence James mentally took a deep breath as he readied himself. Today would be the first day Shade Of Penumbra would conduct job interviews for possible new talents, and that meant today would be the perfect opportunity for any malevolent force to either attack or slip in a spy to either copy or sabotage their group''s hard work. He had to be ready for every encounter to become a fight without warning. Luckily, the circumstances meant he wasn''t alone for this. Currently occupying the room that was his official office despite how little time he spent in it, he checked everything one last time before calling in their first candidate. He had arranged the decor to make the room feel used rather than its usual barebone look, and while it wasn''t quite what he preferred, James figured it would fit with the image of Silhouette folks had. The room continued the rest of the compound''s black theme but went even further. Whereas the other rooms had at the very least splashes of white, Silhouette''s office was truly colorless. The brand new mahogany desk, a gift from Blake Black? The plants? The shelves? The books? The paintings? All black. Everything had been infused to serve as an emergency weapon and keep track of anyone who tried to steal anything. If they thought the pitch-black unreadable books contained sensitive encrypted information worthy to be studied, they were in for a nasty surprise. The monochrome look of the room would even help to confuse and intimidate those who stepped in, which admittedly was a little mean when today''s guests were supposed to be poor folks looking for a job, but would prove invaluable later down the line. Unsurprisingly, Blake had been very supportive of the idea. As for those who could easily discern the inside of the room such as James himself, there were still a few things for them. The layout wasn''t anything incredible but the strange plants placed here and there to look like tendrils to those with a mundane vision did look rather dashing outside of the monochrome contest. There weren''t so many of them to make the room feel messy or like a jungle, but they didn''t feel like the usual dystopian singular drop of green in a colorless office either - even outside of this peculiar specific color situation. The paintings had been a welcome surprise. Apparently, some small-time artist had been working for years with this unique style, using a mix of paints that made each production look like a monochrome canvas to the mundane eye while displaying incredible landscapes and natural scenes to other senses, whether that be touch, echolocation, or in James'' case whatever his strange omnidirectional way of seeing the world in a defined radius was called. All James had to do was buy a dozen of those from the black collection and place half of them in his office, spreading the rest throughout the rest of the office space of the compound. His favorite had to be the one depicting salmon going up a waterfall in an idyllic forest. There was nothing otherwise special happening outside of the wildlife. James'' love for it wasn''t because it represented struggle leading to success or whatever other philosophical concept or metaphor could be at play. No. No, it was for a much simpler reason. It reminded him of home. Well, not his real home, but a nice memory from back on Earth. Walks through the forest with his grandparents back when he was a kid. His first time seeing the salmon migration and how it amazed him. James halted this train of thought before it could go on any further. Now wasn''t the time for nostalgia-filled flashbacks that would likely leave him in tears. He had to be focused. He could have a meltdown over childhood memories later. Not to mention, he wasn''t alone. James had no trouble admitting he wasn''t the sharpest person around, and that was particularly relevant when it came to his business. It didn''t help that he wasn''t a native of this world, so a good enough conman could realistically manage to sell him something worthless. Even all of the self-defense tools Techlord had developed were hard to judge for James since he did not need them - not that he thought the teen would want to take advantage of him, it was the principle of the thing. Here to aid him today were all of his relevant collaborators, each occupying a seat at his side. Doctor Ivan Decanov was the most obvious, the scientist was a genius and had a notable reputation in the city, not to mention his attitude let him easily play the "bad cop" of the day. He wasn''t too enthused to spend his day listening to other people''s ideas rather than work on his own, but ultimately he accepted the task without too much grumbling. If anything, there was a glint in the robot''s rectangular eyes, a spark of excitement at the prospect of developing new technologies for new ventures. Techlord was another obvious choice, but this would actually be his first appearance in public. Outside of a few apparitions as a Vigilante until his encounter with Sunburn and then Silhouette, Techlord had never been at the forefront. He''d been present at big fights, but all of those had happened either in the slums or the Sunken City, areas outside of the proper city''s notice. To avoid bickering the two technological experts had been placed at opposite ends of the room, though James had no doubt this wouldn''t stop them when the urge to fight grew too strong. He just hoped they''d manage to keep up appearances while candidates were here. The next in line was Blake Black. Well, a giant screen with human legs that had Blake''s upper body on it. The local branch manager of the Black Bank didn''t always have the time to drop by, but this proxy would be enough to do the job. It would record everything that would be said and somehow summarize that info for Blake when he had the time to intervene. Though James was somewhat unsure of the idea of letting him take such an important role in his business, his expertise and experience were too valuable to dismiss. He had originally asked for Nanyet, but Blake insisted on doing it himself.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Next was a welcome surprise, Mesker Duskenfer the Third. James had thought he could expect some kind of proxy or magical avatar like Blake''s, but instead, the demonologist had decided to leave his abode in the Sunken City and come to the surface to help himself. Well, he didn''t come for free, he was getting paid as a consultant, but James appreciated his direct presence nonetheless. He was also here to make contracts and reassure candidates that should they not be picked none of the interviewers would be able to steal their inventions. James had no issue signing contracts that went both ways, after all. He had also invited his landlord from the slums to come as another consultant, but she had declined. Truthfully, James didn''t mind too much. Her perspective would have been interesting considering her apparent preference for runes, but it wasn''t anything vital. Not to mention, their relationship was solely one based on business, there was no particular care between them. Instead, James had his most veteran rune scribe attend. He didn''t care much for the woman, he had simply recruited her along with the rest of the remains of Runar''s empire during his takeover. She was good at her job, she hadn''t tried to betray him, and she respected the rules. That was all he could ask of her. Her knowledge of runes would help shape some decisions and he would listen to any insight she might share, but her opinion wasn''t the most important. Though it did remind him that yes, as that journalist had remarked, his higher-ranking employees and closest allies were all men. Hopefully, they''d fix that problem today. Last was his representative from the marketing and sales side of things. He had hesitated between the two which one to pick but ultimately figured having Larry''s friendly face and attitude would do wonders to help candidates. The rest of the judges for this event were far from being a cheerful lot aside from Blake, and that man had an entire dynasty behind him to to remind folks not to underestimate him. No, he was better off leaving a grumpy Barry down in the shop, even if it meant rubbing a few customers the wrong way. Not to mention, Larry was far more comfortable being around noteworthy people than his brother. "Is everyone ready? No last-minute modification or rescheduling to mention?" James was answered by a chorus of yeses and nods. "Wonderful. Let us begin." Tendrils of darkness hidden by the overwhelming black of the room opened the doors, surprising the people already waiting for their turn in the hallway, most still practicing their speech and making late checks on their inventions. "First applicant, please come in." A few folks seemed tempted to try and claim the spot, but the presence of the armed Infused guards tasked with distributing the order tickets killed their plans. A nervous young man with goose heads for hair stood up, adjusting his thick rounded glasses before approaching, cradling a mass nestled in cloth in his arms. As soon as he was inside James closed the doors, something that made the youngster jump and his fowl hair heads honk before he calmed down. Though it was obvious the monochrome decor kept him on edge, reflexively taking one hand off his bundle and placing it before him to check he wouldn''t bump into anything. "Please, take a seat. Introduce yourself." He nodded as he hurried to take his place, almost tripping on his foot on the way. "A-Ah, right. My name is Chase Avini, and I''m here to present my creation." He almost undid the blanket cocoon before James interrupted him and pointed out the contract on the table that Chase quickly read through before signing and continuing, undoing his bundle and revealing the bizarre toaster within. James lacked eyebrows to raise, thankfully Decanov could do the job for two. "This is my Tinker Tech Toaster. It has much better specs than the industry standard, is carefully calibrated to perfectly heat all sides including the crust, and even includes some minor spatial manipulation to toast already buttered items. O-oh, and when I say buttered I mean anything you''d spread on bread, even cheese!" James wasn''t sure what to answer or what to ask. Luckily, it was what reinforcements were for. Larry was unexpectedly the first to speak. "Say, when you say anything, do you really mean anything? Like, could I put my cheese, lettuce, and sliced tomatoes and it''d stick to the bread?" "Yes! I even added ways to program whether you want the non-bread elements cooked as well or not." Mesker followed, once again with an unpredictable remark for a wizard. "But isn''t buttering already toasted bread easier?" "Usually yes, but that''s assuming you want regular butter on toasted bread. With my Tinker Tech Toaster, you can cook the butter, jam, cheese, or anything along with the bread! Have you already had cooked jam, sir?" The demonologist shrugged. "I can''t say I have, but I also can''t say I''d be interested to." Decanov nodded. "If the technology you speak of is real, it is acceptable craftsmanship. Its purpose, however, is nonsensical." Techlord butted in. "Yeah, the whole toast thing ain''t that impressive, but the execution? Give him extra time to cook and we might have a multi-purpose cooking machine." The rune scribe agreed though she lacked the confidence of the others. "Saved space is nice in small kitchens." It was at this point that Blake got to speak, the screen of his proxy turning from a still picture of him to a live feed of the man sitting in his office. "There''s potential, I won''t deny. But be careful that the investment is worth the payoff, we won''t hire or commission all applicants so we must prioritize those who have projects that are already ready for sale or close to, as well as applicants who show remarkable talent. The space trick of the toaster is clever enough, but nothing revolutionary." James was tempted to nod at the reminder but doing so might risk being seen as a form of subservience. Ugh, power plays were exhausting. For his part, Chase recoiled at the Black''s critique, likely something he had already heard before if James had to take a guess. The fact this remark came from what might have been one of the biggest businessmen in Zalcien likely didn''t help his self-esteem. "Is there anything else you wish to say, mister Avini?" The young man worried''s eyes jumped from person to person, afraid to settle his gaze on the same individual for too long. The geese on his head began to slowly puff out, to the point James could almost hear a snarl. "I... I... Did I mention it could heat things much quicker than the industry standard?" "No, you did not. We thank you for your time, mister Avini. We will call you back." The youngster deflated at James'' words, enveloping his toaster in his blanket once again before getting up and leaving, giving a final bow to his judges before leaving the room. James had a feeling this would be another long day. Chapter 183 : Interviews and inventions "Manual Grandpop, here to present my Master Popper!" The lion-headed man paused to bask in the adoration and fanfare, oblivious to the actual looks James and his helpers gave him. "My Master Popper has enough force to reach across multiple streets with no worry!" Decanov''s eyebrow had gone so high up it almost touched the small bump that served as the robot''s approximation of hair on his forehead. "And it''s powerful stuff at that, too! I''m not talking about a small breeze here, even the edges of the blast will like they were right in the center!" Techlord was alarmingly intrigued by the proposition, though James had least had the reassurance that it was more likely as a possible addition to his toolkit, not a marketable product. He hoped. "Mister Grandpop, are you trying to sell us a bomb?" The leonine man paused in his speech to send James a betrayed look. James, for his part, felt he had been very understanding so far. The black ball of death with a cartoonish skull painted on it and a fuse on top couldn''t be described as anything else. Even the normally calm members of Silhouette''s entourage were unnerved by the thing, to the point the strange screen robot Blake used to participate had guns bursting out of its sides and aimed at the inventor, something the target just now noticed as his disappointment turned to panic. "Of course not, sir! I would never!" "Mister Grandpop, all present in this room agree that this is a bomb." "My Master Popper? Goodness gracious no! It''s an instant party setter!" "It has a skull on it. "It''s a muffin! With stylized wrapping and chocolate chips!" "It has a fuse." "Yes, like fireworks! Once it goes off, it spreads confetti, balloons, decorations, and cakes!" James almost wished he had glasses he could pull down as he leaned forward. "You are aware fireworks can be considered makeshift weaponry, correct? Have you tested this thing in a confined space?" "Well, not the Gigamax version, but I have smaller models that-" "What would happen should this Gigamax version be deployed, let''s say, under a car?" The tinker raised a clawed finger to answer before slowly lowering it. "Why did you make it look like that anyway? This looks more at home on a children''s show pirate ship or in a terrorist''s armory than at a party." Mesker shrugged. "It could be a child''s pirate-themed birthday party." The other consultant turned to stare at the demonologist. "What? I am simply pointing out a valid application of this design. I agree it shouldn''t be the base one, but there is an argument to be made." "Thank you, sir!" "Not to mention, your self-defense tools can be considered weaponry as well. I agree this Gigamax thing sounds too dangerous, but I can see the smaller models getting popular. Did you bring any?" The lion''s sweaty forehead told them that no, he didn''t. "Would this Gigamax model be safe to deploy in this office?" "Eh, it''s a little too small. The Gigamax Master Popper is intended for garden parties." "So you brought an untestable model for your presentation?" "We could go outside and-" "We specified in the application listing that outdoor inventions had to be listed as such to be scheduled on a later date. Your inability to follow directives and lack of care do not reassure me." "Please-" "We will call you." The lion left, dejected. James had to admit the potential of holding various items in relatively small portable recipients was incredible, but that was it. The potential. Nothing the man had shown aside from this original idea was remotely good. He was afraid if he gave him a budget, he''d just make a bigger crater when his mistakes blew up in his face.
"Debora Trunk, it''s a pleasure." The bulking boar woman moved her hand forward and James decided to agree to the handshake, a small tentacle rising from the desk to grasp her limb. "The pleasure is ours." A nod and a grunt of appreciation were his reward before she continued. "I''m here to present my reinforced textile weave." Techlord spoke up. "I don''t know if you''ve noticed lady, but we already have reinforced clothing." She snorted. "Yes, it''s why I''m here. I took a good look and I can tell you those are deeply flawed." Decanov raised an eyebrow. With how often the scientist did it, James had a feeling he didn''t need to oil up that part of him all that often. "Don''t take this the wrong way. The silk you use is remarkable, the best I have ever managed to get my hands on. The cloth itself is another matter. Its make is no better than a shirt you would find in a thrift shop. Its quality solely comes from its material." She pulled out an orange and a square of tissue from her designer jacket''s inner pockets, placing them on the desk. More specifically, she put the cloth over the fruit before looking at James.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. "Go on, try and stab it." James indulged her and a new tentacle emerged from the desk, ending in a sharp that quickly fell on her little display. It took much more force than James expected to finally damage the tissue, and that was after having a good guess of what her plan was. Debora for her part looked surprised James did manage to pierce the fruit''s protection but she quickly regained her composure. "See? Now imagine if instead it used your silk." James nodded and hummed in appreciation. "You make a wonderful point. However, I''m afraid we cannot commercialize what you think of." This time she couldn''t keep her surprise in check. "What?" "Apologies, allow me to explain. The clothing we produce is already at least equal to some military-grade armor. With your enhancements, we might reach something Supers struggle with. As such, we also risk the more unsavory parts of society using it." Understanding and a sad look reached her eyes. "I see." "Let me say though, I find your work impressive. We could be able to provide you with an inferior grade of silk, one still superior to the industry standard, and reserve mixing your technique and our best materials for our private force and joint projects with the police and the Union." A glimmer of hope returned, though it didn''t break her serious attitude. "Thank you, sir."
"Howdy! The name''s Malik Hornbent!" James spared a glance at the lean unicorn man''s perfectly straight horn jutting out his forehead. "I know, I know, mom''s genes fixed the quirk from my dad''s. Even got rid of the usual spirally swirl." Seeing something closer to a bone spike than the expected narwhal horn did surprise him. "But enough about that!" James wouldn''t mention so far only Malik had spoken. The man had accurately predicted what went through his head, after all. "So, when you heard your little speech, I knew I just had to try. I''ve been stuck in an office job for so long, it''s time I turned my hobby into my work! Do what you love and all that jazz, yeah?" James had a feeling his answer was unnecessary. A feeling proved correct the very next second. "So, the problem was, I never did much for self-defense. I''m usually tinkering with small thingies during breaks, and nothing on that scale could compare to your stuff." Techlord preened under the compliment, much to Decanov''s annoyance. "But! I found a solution! Lady and gentlemen, introducing Malik Hornbent''s greatest thingamajig..." The unicorn held his hands up and towards his audience, exposing some sort of origami dragonfly with miniature metal parts and diodes resting on his white hooven fingers. Ignoring the disturbingly cylindrical black fingernails and the impressive craft of the paper sculpture, James wasn''t sure what was supposed to be so remarkable. Well, he knew it likely had to do with the tidbits strapped to the fake insect, but he had no idea what exactly those were supposed to do. "Tada!" "And what do you call this, Mister Hornbent?" "I call it the Sneaky Portable Insect, or SPI!" "And what is its intended use?" The unicorn put down his craft on the desk before pulling out a pair of glasses from his shorts'' pockets and placing the obviously modified item over his eyes. The fact he had to use string to attach the glasses'' branches to his ears wasn''t missed, though he didn''t remark on it. Done with that Malik whistled, prompting the paper bug to buzz up into the air and start fleeting about. "The SPI was made to cover an aspect of self-defense most people forget: avoiding conflict entirely!" Mesker and Decanov hummed. "Go on." "See, there''s a teensy tiny bit of surveillance equipment on the SPI. Nothing capable of actual spy work, but think of it like that third eye on that lizard''s species." Mesker gained a questioning look. "The Insightful Drake?" "Nah, the mundane one. Bah, doesn''t matter. The idea is this little buddy watches out for changes in luminosity and movement. Perfect to notice someone sneaking in the dark or when you''re being followed. It can''t record what it sees and, again, what it does see isn''t all that great. But! The idea isn''t to have a second pair of eyes, rather it''s a crutch for your instincts." James nodded. "Was what a man in the dark or a pile of clothes? Is that feeling of being followed warranted or just paranoia? My buddy here will help you with that!" "And once there is confirmation there is possibly danger afoot, the user can then take their precautions and ready other products or warn the authorities." Malik made finger guns - and James had to admit the sound of the clacking hooves was somewhat satisfying - and grinned at his audience. "That''s just right!" He then passed the glasses to test them. Despite his altered sight, James did notice the small square in the corner with three different lights, likely indicating different levels of detection. That intuition was proven correct when he made tentacles to test the bug, and the fact it did notice the movement in the sea of darkness greatly surprised him. he repeated that little test when the others got their turn, though Decanov, Techlord, and Blake all struggled a bit considering the circumstances - the robot''s lack of ears, the teen''s large helmet, and Blake being on the other side of a screen. Once everyone had their turn, Techlord was the first to speak. "I like it. It''s small and harmless, might be easier to sell than our usual stuff." Decanov grunted pensively. "I will agree the result is interesting enough, but its making worries me. I fear this may be a little too delicate for our current machinery." The teen genius leaped at the opportunity to taunt his junior employee. "Oh? Are you saying you can''t do it?" The Draskian robot scoffed. "Of course I can. The problem stems from the need for brand-new machines and parts. I made our initial lineup by modifying old abandoned models, something this small and fragile will need its own original fabricator. I can do it, but the necessary parts will be costly, limiting the number of machines and thus production. You can''t think that placing those devices on an origami was an easy task." The former Vigilante pouted behind his mask, though his body language wonderfully picked up the slack to share his thoughts, crossing his arms and turning his head away. Mesker lightly shook his head before speaking. "Could it be possible to replace those technological parts with magic?" He turned his gaze to the rune scribe who thought for a few seconds before answering. "I think we could directly inscribe the enchantments on sheets of paper before folding them." The demonologist nodded at her words. "Then we have a potential solution. Have scribes enchant these sheets like parchment and then bring those to a machine to automate the folding of the origami. The link between the glasses and the dragonfly can then be made by pairing finished items together." Blake''s screen buzzed before the man''s image came to life. "A wonderful plan, but if I may? I believe removing the glasses outright and either sneaking in an alarm in the drone or shifting it to a pin or a trinket would be better. Our situation earlier is already displaying one of the issues of going forward with glasses: you cannot rely on a single standard, you have to accommodate varying morphologies which means different models and different batches. There''s also the issue of those already wearing glasses, unless you plan on imitating uncomfortable universal 3D glasses you are asking people to choose between sight and your product." The businessman tilted his head before continuing. "With that said, I do like what I see." James agreed. Once they figured out the problems with manufacturing those origami, the SPI would make for a wonderful product. "Mister Hornbent, what do you have to say?" "Eh, you''re the big bosses, not me. I don''t know the first thing about magic but I like that you like my idea. But, huh, if you use magic, do I still get hired?" "It depends. I will be frank, there is a possibility we ask to buy your idea rather than hire you. Let me assure you, you would be benefitting from our sales anyway. But that is only a possibility. Just because we found a possible more efficient alternative to your design this time doesn''t mean it would always be the case." The unicorn oohed and aahed, which left James thinking he didn''t fully understand his explanation. "In any case, if no one has any further remark, this will mark the end of your interview. We will call you to share our decision." Malik made finger guns again before leaving, his creation flying behind him.
"Next." The one stepping in this time was a pale short chubby girl, her nervous blue eyes peeking through her long ginger hair as she stared everywhere. She froze when she noticed Mesker before fidgeting as she walked forward, holding her bag against her chest. She sat on her chair when James invited her to and she signed the contract after giving it a thorough read, spending more time on it than any other applicant this far. She took in a deep breath before speaking. "Hello. I am Maggie Thespian. I would like to begin by saying what I will present today was supposed to be a magitech joint effort between a friend and me, but she sadly had to renounce. As such, I could only provide the magic part." James paused for a moment. He had a feeling he knew who this was. After all, no one else had mentioned a similar story so far, and they were nearing the end of the day. He still felt uncomfortable hiring someone from HardCored and mixing his professional and private lives, but he would at least hear what she had to say. Chapter 184 : MagicIsTragic Maggie Thespian, more familiar to him as MagicIsTragic on the HardCored chatroom he hung out in, was very different from what James expected. The nervous chubby girl whose gaze kept frantically switching between looking at Silhouette and his associates and the floor or the ceiling was far from the bombastic gremlin he was used to. He knew people behaved differently online and in real life, doubly so when in a work setting, but he didn''t expect her to be this timid and on edge. A little more serious than usual for sure, intimidated by being in the presence of multiple Super-level individuals as well, but not to the point she had shaking knees. Perhaps she''d be dealing with the pressure better if TechnoGogo had come along, as she originally wanted her friend to. But to be fair, James was ill-placed to talk about people behaving differently and how they dealt with stress. The ratlings'' first day of school was coming up soon, and he had no doubt he''d be playing the overprotective parent before letting them go, whether he wanted to or not, and he had no doubt no one would liken a worried dad to the eldritch businessman that came to town bar passing remarks on their shared shadow theme. James focused back on the situation at hand. He might have gotten much better at multi-tasking and managing different trains of thought but now wasn''t the moment for that, especially when he had a feeling he was subconsciously doing it to dissociate and distract himself from dealing with meeting one of James'' online friends as Silhouette. "It is a shame you cannot present the magitech you planned to, but we will not fault you for this. We are here to judge ideas and work ethics first and foremost, current versions of inventions aren''t as important." Techlord nodded to James'' words. "Yeah, the bossman''s right. He hired me back when I could only play with scraps and trash, it''s thanks to him I got my hands on better materials and equipment. The same can go for you." James could feel Decanov''s urge to argue with Techlord for one reason or another, perhaps his manner of speech or mentioning playing with trash, but he also appreciated that the Draskian bit back whatever retort he had in mind to avoid disturbing or derailing the presentation. Still, he might have to look into hiring someone to manage relationships between his employees, and maybe look into booking a therapist or two as well while he was at it. Mesker hummed in thought as he pulled on his wick-like goatee. "I agree with the young Techlord. Materials are a major point in any project, but providing resources is one of the duties of an employer. I am more interested in seeing an innovative and functional enchantment on a copper coin than a failed attempt on a golden statue." Maggie nodded vigorously at that, clearly putting more weight on the wizard''s advice than anyone else''s. Not that James could fault her, he was more than familiar with her love of the magical arts. "Alright. Alright... So. I know your business is focused on self-defense items as of now, but I remember you expressing interest in more varied products. Is that correct?" "Yes. Not all of the inventions we were presented today were related to defending oneself, and this wasn''t a mandatory criterion." "Right. Right...So! I would like to present something I first came up with last year during a heatwave." She took something out of her back before presenting it to her audience, doing her best to appear confident despite her nervousness. The item was, at a glance, one of those cheap plastic handheld ventilators. It was a cylindrical piece of pink plastic that could comfortably fit in one hand topped with a fan. James could now understand her earlier remark, using such a cheap product as a basis for her work rather than a more custom creation wasn''t impressive. With that said, the topic here wasn''t the item itself, it was what had been done to it. While James felt that to mundane eyes the ventilator wouldn''t look special, the magic he could sense told a different story. There were a handful of runes involved, but the vast majority of the magic felt far more spread out, more like a coating with various flavors than the structured script Runar once used. He was far less familiar with regular enchanting, but he could almost taste the air, the water, and even the hints of poison and charm on it. The fact he could taste magical shenanigans but not food was depressing but would be left to be explored later. "I''ve been calling it the Summer Miracle, but the name isn''t set in stone." Decanov wasn''t impressed, and his stare froze the girl in her speech. "I''ve no use for one of those, but I still know they can be found in any store when temperatures rise." Techlord tutted the Draskian, even going as far as to do a bit of finger-wagging. This time the robot made no effort to hide his displeasure, though he restrained to a scowl and crossed arms rather than shouts. "You''re only looking at the surface. She told us right off the bat her thing is magic, not tech. Let her go on." The teen made a little hand gesture to encourage her, but it was Mesker''s following intervention that got her back on track. "Yes, the young one is right. I can sense the magic. I have a good idea as to what you''ve done, but I''m curious nonetheless." Maggie took a deep breath before continuing. "Right. So, summer is horrible and awful. So how could I fix it? By making this!" The girl then pressed a button on the ventilator turning it on, but rather than fan air as it should have the spinning of its dull pink plastic blades let it fly into the air, hovering next to Maggie''s head with some minor bobbing up and down. Airborne as it was, and despite its blades being horizontal, it still sent a pleasant breeze at its maker, some of it even flowing to James and his associates to cool them down. A gesture that was appreciated, even though they were still in the colder months. James did have the heater running - he may not have cared about temperatures anymore but he knew others did - so the breeze wasn''t the freezing gust it could have been outside.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. "The Summer''s Miracle is the perfect tool to handle the hotter months of the year. It accompanies the person who last activated it and provides them with fresh air. I''m still working out how to set parameters like preferred temperatures, but it''s already functional. And that''s not all!" James could tell. Ever since the thing had begun to hover he could sense it was doing something. It felt like it was slowly unleashing an invisible mist throughout the room, one that screamed of death, poison, and danger. He wasn''t particularly worried, both because he trusted what he knew of MagicIsTragic not to try and kill people and because he could tell Mesker, the rune scribe, and James himself were the only ones to notice what was happening. "If it senses the air gets too dry it will also puff out like a water sprayer, perfect for when the heat gets too much. And last but not least, it can deal with one of the worst problems of summer." The nervousness that had been present in her every word despite her best attempts so far suddenly vanished, replaced with a cold yet almost bloodthirsty seriousness that for once James could associate with his online friend. "The bugs." Realizing the intensity of her own words, she suddenly shook her head to clear it and faked a cough, possibly to pretend the hint of violence in her voice was merely the result of a dry throat. No one bought it. "Right. Anyway, the bugs. Namely, mosquitoes. Those are the worst of the worst. For people with blood, that is. And that''s why I added in enchantments to chase them away!" Mesker hummed in thought. "A mixture of charms and poison... Could you elaborate on your thought process?" "Yes sir! See, I figured that having an actual damaging aura would be a bad idea. Even if nothing went wrong and it successfully only targeted bugs, it would still kill all bugs, not just those attacking people. That would be needlessly damaging the environment and just cause tons of dead bugs to drop to the floor, which is far from hygienic. So! Instead, I decided to go with a weak charm, one tuned to focus on parasites." "All parasites?" She chuckled nervously. "Yes, but no. Well, I tried to tune it to avoid the ''natural'' parasitic flora and fauna in someone''s body and to avoid people with parasitic mutations like mosquito-people, but it isn''t quite perfect yet. It''s part of why I decided not to use something that could cause real damage. The charm only releases an aura that says ''everything in here is dangerous and poisonous and should be avoided'', and sapient entities should only feel some mild discomfort." Decanov tapped his cheek, a quiet yet noticeable metallic ringing accompanying every moment of contact. "Zalcien has no parasite that would concern me, but I see the utility of such a function. For it to be a secondary effect rather than the main purpose is perhaps a little odd, though." Techlord chuckled as he shook his head. "You don''t get it, you don''t feel the heat." "As a matter of fact, I-" "Yeah, yeah. Sensors and all that. What I mean is that you aren''t negatively impacted unless your metal is melting. You don''t understand how much it gets in the way of work, or just living. I''ve grown up exploring mountains of scraps, figuring out a way to deal with stuff being hot in summer was one of the first things I did." "I have more fragile components, but I see your point. I am not the target audience of this product. As for manufacturing..." His arrogant look at the piece of plastic sent a clear message, but he felt the need to spell it out anyway. The man truly loved his voice a little too much. "This toy will be easy to produce, at least if we keep it as is." "Yeah, we ain''t doing that. No offense Maggie, but I ain''t letting something like that get out of here. If your friend doesn''t want to, I''ll redesign it myself." "It will be no problem either way. It isn''t as though your design would be more complex." Yeah, no, that last remark was a little too hostile for the setting. James didn''t want whatever feud these two had come up with to scare their potential hire away, even if he still had his reservations. "Techlord. Doctor. Your input is valued, but I believe you have spoken enough for now. Mesker, if you would?" "Yes. The enchantment work I see is solid. Clever to include a few runes to lighten the load and avoid spending too much on a more usual but far more complex enchantment. There is no outright flaw, though I can spot a few places where modifications could be made to resolve the issues you mentioned earlier. Well, runes are not my specialty, so take my word with a grain of salt on that specific matter. I will say, it was a good call to use a charm rather than a poisonous aura. Even outside of the problems you brought up, there was also a risk of faint leakage over time that could lead to toxins forming in the bloodstream." The cubby girl paled a bit before nodding. "I will let my colleague continue on the topic of runes, but to finish my analysis... Well, this doesn''t exactly concern you young lady, but Techlord, make sure to have a magic practitioner nearby when you work on your redesign. Too many modifications on the objects will require adjustments in the enchantments, and there is also the matter of possible redundancies." "Will remember to." "Good." The rune scribe cleared her throat, looking for permission to talk. James sent a subtle nod, inviting her to. "I will begin by saying that inscribing runes without leaving physical marks is impressive. That said, it is counterproductive. Firstly it causes unnecessary difficulty and costs otherwise unneeded resources, secondly it devalues the product. You are not making a discreet weapon for assassination, you are making an item you want customers to notice and recognize. You saw how Doctor Decanov was skeptical, the average customer will have a similar sentiment. Techlord, that is why I wish to be present to assist you and our young creator if she passes and she agrees: to show you where to place physical runes to improve the design and facilitate production. You will still need some of our scribes to do the actual enchanting, but that would lighten the load." Maggie nodded. "Larry, I suppose you have a positive opinion on all this." "Oh, absolutely, boss. This is gonna sell like hotcakes. These might be more popular than anything else we make." "Blake, if you have the time. "I''m here, I''m here! I absolutely agree with our black-and-white manager here. I see a lot of potential. Smooth out the production, figure out a better design, and you''ll have something great on your hands. If you don''t hire Silhouette, I will." James was thankful he didn''t have the facial features necessary to frown. He understood this was supposed to be a jest and a compliment for Magic, but he didn''t doubt the Black Bank manager would do as he said. Her idea was great, and James was surprised no one else had come up with something similar, at least in Zalcien. Perhaps people had but didn''t sell it and kept it to themselves, or the current models were too expensive to be worth it. He''d have to look into it just in case they risked copyright infringement. He still felt unsure about mixing his lives. Outside of the awkwardness of being his friend''s boss, all of Silhouette''s employees so far were people who could defend themselves. Even Larry and Barry, as goofy as they were, had survived in the slums and shown more than once they weren''t deadweight in a fight. The fact was that Shades Of Penumbra was a target, and letting her join unprepared would put her at risk. Then again, the same goes for everyone else. I had Mesker include the danger clause in the contract, but most people didn''t pay that much attention. "Thank you for your time, Miss Thespian. We will call you back to share our decision." "Thank you, sir." She bowed before snatching her creation out of the air and putting it in her back, only remembering to turn it off when it tried to drag her up with it. She chuckled nervously before bowing one last time and leaving. Blake didn''t give James the time to ponder and arrange his thoughts before speaking again. "She was probably my favorite so far." James held back a groan. He trusted Blake more than he once did, but the Black family still came with strings attached. Maggie might even be more at risk working for him in some ways, though this time from the family itself rather than its enemies. James let his gaze focus on his waterfall painting. He learned to deal with killing people, he''d have to learn to deal with mild discomfort. Chapter 185 : Closing thoughts "So, what is everyone''s takeaway after today?" Techlord was the first to speak. "That woman with the advanced weaving. Her technique will let us sell stuff without a shadow affinity that comes with a light weakness, and if we combine it with your black silk we will see a big upgrade in everyone''s gear." Decanov nodded along. "I agree with the boy. That woman is the only one to have presented something complete and ready for sale. Yes, combining it with our existing superior material will vastly improve the design she presented, however, that is more of an alternate advanced version than a mandatory necessary fix like every other one had. The fact that her completed invention truly is useful is a nice bonus." Larry agreed. "Yeah, folks have been complaining about our designs. The downstairs guys did their best with dyes, but having some new stuff will make people happy. Maybe she''ll know how to make some fancy clothes as well?" "That is indeed something worth pursuing. While we should always prioritize functionality, aesthetics do have an impact, particularly when it comes to clothes. Thank you for the reminder, Larry." "No problem, boss. By the way, what did you think of Grandpop? I think the party balls could be fun." Techlord hummed. "I don''t know about them being fun, but if he truly found a way to manipulate space like that for cheap then it has a lot of potential. It would make transporting stuff much easier." "No. I see the potential of spatial manipulation, but this man won''t be one of ours." "You sure, bossman? I would help tons." "I veto it. This man is too dangerous to let in. As I''ve already mentioned previously, a budget would only grow the size of the crater when he fails. He has shown a complete lack of care for safety and common sense and has failed to even understand the guidelines of the interview. I am considering outright reporting him to the authorities." "Sheesh, boss. You''re sounding a little harsh." Blake tutted as he wagged his finger on his screen. "Harsh, but true. Determining whether the risk is worth the reward is an important point of managing a business. However, I will say that if you do plan on reporting his activities to the police or the Union, you should do it as an anonymous tipper, not Silhouette. We wouldn''t want people to think they can''t confide in or share their more dangerous secrets with you." The scribe felt the need to interrupt, bringing up a very valid point. "Does the contract even allow us to do that? We can''t use or share the information we learned without hiring him, right?" Mesker chuckled at her question as he brought his black hands together, an amused and proud smirk on his lips. "Have no worry. My contracts are written to be fair, but they also are made to avoid trouble. Exceptions concerning possible threats to the public''s safety were included in the fine print. Though I will say he was the only candidate today who fit these conditions. A pleasant surprise, really. I expected more." "You heard Mesker. As soon as this meeting is over, I''ll have someone make a call. Now, ignoring Grandpop, what else do you wish to say?" Techlord spoke. "The origami drone. I like the idea. It only needs a few adjustments and it''s good to go. I know going with the parchment thing rather than tech is more efficient, but do we have the equipment to? Like, should we make a printing press or something?" The scribe tilted her head as she pondered the question. "Well, we''ll need to put the final in any case, to ensure the link between each dragonfly and its receptor is unique, but having the do the rest over and over on our own could take time. Lord Runar always hated the idea of automatization, he said it removed the art and prevented us from learning." Techlord scoffed. "Yeah? Well, he''s gone and we''re not." Mesker wasn''t quite as dismissive. "While I agree Runar''s methods were a little archaic, he was right to say his scribes'' education needed the practice. He didn''t run a school with studious students, he ran a workshop with the discarded and the unwanted. No offense, of course." Her barely repressed grimace showed she did take offense. Thankfully she kept her tongue in check. "What I mean to say is that Runar''s former mages are not the best. There is a healthy number of them at a decent level, but the rest still need practice before moving on to larger and more complex projects. Unless you plan on hiring an instructor or repurposing one of your current high-level ones as a teacher, having them work on the same designs over and over is for the best." Decanov groaned. "It''s wasteful. We could have a runic printing press do the brunt of the work, netting us a major gain in efficiency, but you don''t want it because they are too incompetent and need the practice?" "Unless a good part of the workforce is removed and put through a proper lesson plan, yes." "Then we will do as you say. Doctor Decanov, I''ll let you discuss with our veteran scribe here to prepare the best runic printing press you can when discussions are over. I''ll look into setting up a runic school. Perhaps it could be a way to hire new people: offer a free period of learning in exchange for a mandatory equivalent period spent working for us."This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Blake smiled. "If you''re doing that, why not open up a school proper in the slums? With that ''free learning for work'' strategy, I''m sure you could find plenty of people to take all those jobs you need. Not to mention the goodwill and reputation boost." "No. At least, not now. We do not have the resources to manage a beginning business and a school in the most dangerous parts of the city. I am willing to reconsider when we have more means and employees, but for now, we will stick to internal programs." "Eh, your business, your choice." "Why don''t you go with this plan, then?" "The Black Family is supposed to stay neutral. We can bend the rules and play favorites but within reason. Establishing something like that in Zalcien would be akin to creating a foothold, a proper base. Only the top of the family can do that kind of thing, and even then they have to make their case to Noir." "Your dragon ancestor, right?" "In a sense. He does have a few biological children he spawned long ago, but most of the family is adopted. It''s the price of being a notorious and infamous family for generations, you get curses that jump past bloodlines. We''re all sterile and infertile, that''s the cost of being a Black." "How often do new members join, then?" "It depends. Does someone feel in the mood to get a kid? Is there an intern or employee who performed particularly well and deserves to be rewarded? Did an existing member try something stupid and someone needs to fill their empty spot? Sometimes nobody joins for decades, other times we get a dozen in a single year. Noir himself doesn''t take anyone in anymore, that''s the only certainty." "Good to know. I trust you to warn me should one of them be nearby." The bank manager sighed as he leaned back in his seat on the other end of the screen. "Sadly, I can''t promise anything. I like you a lot Silhouette and I want you to succeed, but the bonds of the Black family come before all. We may not all see eye to eye and often engage in political plays and power grabs, but Noir made sure that we wouldn''t betray the family to outsiders, not without abandoning the name of Black. I will do my best, though." "I appreciate the sentiment." And James truly did. He felt he could safely assume the bonds Blake spoke of were more than just words. If at his level he could have Mesker write magically binding contracts, he had no doubt someone at the apex of the world could do far worse. The fact Blake was willing to test the limits for his sake was reassuring. James still wasn''t the biggest fan of the man, but at this point, he knew he could count him as an ally. Not the most loyal or helpful, but an ally nonetheless. It was already a miracle he had met so many loyal and trustworthy people so far in this cutthroat Super world, he couldn''t rely on only dealing with those forever. Decanov grunted, crossing his arms as he leaned forward. "Some of us have better things to do than stand there and listen to you two talk about yourselves. Especially if you want a runic printing press made in time. If we could hurry this?" "Apologies, Doctor. Does anyone else have a particular candidate they wish to point out today? We''ll do an individual check on each one when we''re done with interviews." Mesker was the one to seize the opening, sitting a little straighter - a feat considering his already stern and rigid pose. "Young Maggie Thespian. Her enchantment work was not perfect, but it was impressive. I also believe her creation would be popular amongst the populace." Larry happily agreed. "Yup, that would make one good seller. I know Barry often complained about bugs back in the slums." Decanov narrowed his eyes. "Ah, that is something we overlooked. She mentioned her invention being offputting to sapient parasites and blood feeders. There is a possibility it would be effective on wilder and more dangerous creatures than the mundane pest of the city." Mesker agreed. "I know quite several vampire hunters who would spend a fortune for something to keep their enemy at bay, particularly if we find a way to replace that air humidifier function with a cloud of holy water." "Vampire hunters? I was under the impression they and the rest of the undead weren''t hunted on sight in the modern day." "Under normal circumstances, they would not be. The fact remains there are still feral ones popping out of old tombs and the merry serial killers and blood cults out and about. Young Blake Black would know some about those." The rich man shrugged. "What can I say? My aunt and her daughters are not the friendly sort. They are cordial and perfectly safe to our clients, but the village they established their private estate in doesn''t have the same luck. I don''t like it, but what can I do?" James made note of that. Members of the Black Family were free to do as they pleased so long as it didn''t impact their business. Blake''s nonchalant but otherwise nonviolent attitude suddenly looked much better than before. Hopefully, the rest of the family wasn''t quite as bloodthirsty, but knowing they let this kind of behavior happen and were founded by a particularly greedy dragon, James didn''t have high hopes. Techlord ignored the uncomfortable silence that had followed the mention of a normalized massacre to continue the original discussion. "We''ll need to find a base design for her thing, though. She mentioned a techy friend who wanted to do it but couldn''t, right? Maybe we could ask her to give it a try?" Decanov scoffed. "Had you paid attention to her tone, you would have noticed the implication that her friend dropped the project. She didn''t work on it not because of a lack of time, but because she didn''t want to pass the interview. You can go ahead and start designing your version of the gadget." The teen genius didn''t wait a second to respond, annoyance clear in his voice. "Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?" "That''s enough, you two. Cease butting heads constantly. However, since it is relevant, Doctor Decanov is right that their collaboration is unlikely to happen even if we gave them more time." Blake leaned forward in his seat. "I couldn''t help but notice you don''t treat her the same as the other candidates. Is there a particular reason as to why?" James sighed. "One of my employees befriended her on an online forum and expressed concern she wasn''t aware of the risks taking this job would entail." "Oh?" "I know they would all theoretically be in danger. We have gone without any loss so far, but the Biflora and his cultists are still plotting against us, not to mention the other factions who have yet to make their stance clear. The invention she presented was one of the best today and not hiring her would be a mistake. I am simply displeased I couldn''t quell my employee''s worries before and likely won''t going forward." "Managing a business comes with heavy choices, my friend. Knowing to put your personal feelings aside is good." Larry raised a hand. "If you want boss, we could mention the danger thing when we call the candidates to announce they passed the test. Like, give a final chance to go back, you know what I mean?" "I think I do, Larry. That is a good idea. There wasn''t a need to needlessly worry them all, but those about to join deserve to know the truth. Perhaps we could even use the opportunity to mention we have openings in the slums should they wish for a change of scenery." Techlord tilted. "Why would anyone want to go there?" "You''d be surprised how many people would be tempted by the thrill or change in scenery. There are also those who would take the chance to help or try to take charge when protected by a powerful group." "Eh, if you say so." "If no one has any more major or urgent remarks to make, this will be it for today. Remember to put your thoughts down to paper and send those to me by the end of the week. Outside consultants, thank you for your time. Employees, you know what to do. Larry, you and I will prepare the acceptance speech." The man smiled happily. "Okie Doki, boss!" Chapter 186 : Forum pondering
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! TechnoGogo: Yo? Saray: Did something happen, Magic? The Silence: Her interview with Silhouette was today. TechnoGogo: Ah, right. That. (Mod)Seagullag: Yes, today was the first one. I heard they planned to have a few more for products and inventors, and after that, they plan to move on to administrative staff. The Silence: That''s the one I plan to seize. I have my place among the throne of shadows. KillLaKrill: Silence, buddy, you''re getting ridiculously edgy. JamesIsInTheDark: So Magic, how did it go? MagicIsTragic: Ok, first off, while the waiting room was pretty bland, his office was super creepy. KillLaKrill: What, was it full of stuffed animals? Stuffed people? MagicIsTragic: Nah, it was all black. But like, black-black. I couldn''t tell the chair from the ground. KillLaKrill: Oooh, sounds fun. The Silence: A lord of shadows rules from the heart of his domain. MagicIsTragic: Yeah. It was like walking into a stormy night, except everyone popped out like crazy. Like, they were just as easy to see as if they were outside in broad daylight. Aside from Silhouette himself, of course. I could somewhat tell the outlines, but yeah, hard to distinguish black from black. (Mod)Seagullag: People? Plural? MagicIsTragic: Yeah. Gods, Techno, you would have loved to go. Decanov was there, but also the dude who made the gadgets they sell. TechnoGogo: Really? Did you get his name? MagicIsTragic: Techlord. He sounded young. Probably a newcomer. He and Decanov loved bickering. KillLaKrill: Fits him. But a newbie tech guy? What did he look like? MagicIsTragic: Like a discount Mecha Man, kinda? Like, not a copycat, but still using the whole "advanced armor with weapons" thing. (Mod)Seagullag: That does sound like someone Decanov wouldn''t be the biggest fan of. He historically hates Mecha Man. JamesIsInTheDark: Why? (Mod)Seagullag: Mecha is a Hero, but he isn''t really pro-robot rights. He isn''t against them either, but the fact the biggest tech-oriented celebrity in the city doesn''t support them got him a lot of resentment. KillLaKrill: I mean, in interviews, he keeps calling Dominique "Dome" and "it". That''s not great. I appreciate the work he does keeping the city safe, but he ain''t the best person. Saray: At the end of the day, Heroes are people too. They can''t be flawless, even if they try. KillLaKrill: I''m not sure he''s trying, to be fair. Like, the dude screams "I''m only a Hero for the funding and because regular work was too boring". Saray: You can''t say that. You don''t know him. KillLaKrill: Neither do you. Saray: Yes, but I''m not trying to psychoanalyze him. KillLaKrill: Fair enough. MagicIsTragic: Yeah, yeah, he''s a douche. But this ain''t about him! JamesIsInTheDark: Right. Did anyone else catch your eye, Magic? MagicIsTragic: I''m glad you asked! There was also one of those manager dudes from the opening day, a random runic scribe I''m not sure even they knew the name of, but most importantly there were two big guests! Saray: Oh? MagicIsTragic: First off, the big one for me. Mesker Duskenfer the Third. KillLaKrill: Right, you mentioned him once. I think. MagicIsTragic: Yeah, when talking about the rumors of Silhouette being a demon. Duskenfer is a recluse and might as well be retired by now, but he''s a famous demonologist. He comes from a long line of exorcists. He probably is one of the best independent mages in the city. I don''t know how he''d fare against the Wicked Witchcraft guys though, the head honchos aren''t half bad. KillLaKrill: Alright, so strong magic guy. You mentioned another big guest, right? MagicIsTragic: Goddamn Blake Black. Saray: What? MagicIsTragic: He wasn''t here in person, he was doing a teleconference through some weird robot thing, but he listened and commented on things. Saray: I''m not sure how I''m supposed to feel about that. The Black family isn''t exactly the greatest. KillLaKrill: Sure, but I don''t remember hearing anything about our local guy. (Mod)Seagullag: Blake Black is supposedly one of the youngest existing adult members. He isn''t one of the grand masterminds who can do as they please. Not to mention the way his powers work, he has to play by the rules. That''s when he''s the strongest. KillLaKrill: Yeah, the fairy stuff. MagicIsTragic: Fair Folk. Never let them hear you say the F word.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. KillLaKrill: Yeah, I know. It''s not like they''re watching here. (Mod)Seagullag: Not presently, but don''t tempt them. KillLaKrill: Fine, I''ll shut up. I don''t wanna be turned into a pig anyway. So, our big bad banker guy was part of the jury for Silhouette''s thing? That''s interesting. Does that mean they''re closer allies than they claimed? MagicIsTragic: He was one of the least active ones though. But yeah, looks like Silhouette is climbing up the social ladder. Saray: I still feel uncomfortable knowing that he''s friends with Black. KillLaKrill: Hey, the dude is officially an upstanding member of society. I''m not too fond of the bourgeoisie myself, but at least this one doesn''t unleash a plague of undead "pets" to clear out "his garden" of "the filth". JamesIsInTheDark: What? KillLaKrill: Abyss Black. Nasty guy, the local manager where my family came from. He''s too deep underwater and too inactive to be worth actively taking care of for the Union, but his neighbors aren''t as lucky. Honestly, the biggest reason why he''s getting away with it is because he''s one of Noir''s first kids, they''re afraid to make daddy angry. JamesIsInTheDark: Whoa. Sorry about that. KillLaKrill: Don''t worry. my parents and I never lived near the guy, but he traumatized our family enough he''s our boogeyman. MagicIsTragic: A tragedy, really, but can we get back on topic? I wasn''t done talking about my meeting with Silhouette! JamesIsInTheDark: Ah, sorry about that. How did it go? MagicIsTragic: It went great! The place was creepy, but they were very friendly. They liked my stuff too! JamesIsInTheDark: Great! What did you present? MagicIsTragic: Something to help in summer. Can''t tell more than that, I signed an exclusivity contract. KillLaKrill: Already? MagicIsTragic: Not because I''m hired! It''s something everyone had to sign. We can''t share the idea we presented until they tell us we''re not hired or if they don''t answer after a month. They can''t use the idea unless they hire us either. Saray: That sounds a little controlling. TechnoGogo: It''s standard industry fare, and it makes sense. You wouldn''t want the competition to sell the same product as you because your future employee shared too much or tried multiple applications in the same period. They also usually pay a fee to compensate for possible losses and inactivity it may cause. MagicIsTragic: Yup! They''re giving me more than the last time I tried something like that, too. Saray: Oh, okay then. I''m not too familiar with that sort of thing. MagicIsTragic: Anyway, yeah, they liked me! They said my idea was good and my technique clever despite the flaws. The worst thing they had to say was about the base item, and that''s because I used something store-bought to enchant on. KillLaKrill: Wait, weren''t you and Techno supposed to work together or something? MagicIsTragic: Yeah, we wanted to make a magitech, but she couldn''t do it. I told them and they understood. It sounds like if they hire me they plan to have me and Techlord work together to make it. TechnoGogo: I told you I was sorry. MagicIsTragic: I know. I''m not mad. I just wish we could have done it together. They really liked it as is, can you imagine how they would have reacted if it had been how we planned? We would have been hired on the spot. Are you sure you don''t want to try and join Penumbra? TechnoGogo: I don''t know. And when I don''t know, I''d rather not take risks. MagicIsTragic: It''s just... This is such a big opportunity! The Silence: I agree with the apprentice magus. Silhouette''s empire is in its early stages, joining now would be the best chance to seize the best benefits. If you wait too long, there will be too many others to contend with, people more experienced and valuable than you. Early loyalty can be a greater boon than pure talent. MagicIsTragic: Yeah, like the drama queen says! TechnoGogo: You say that like it''s a cult. JamesIsInTheDark: Guys, let Techno think. She''s right that she shouldn''t apply if she isn''t sure. Even if she does they''ll feel it, and they may not give her a second chance. Don''t try to force your dreams and ambitions on others. And yeah, Silence, you really do sound like you''re preaching for a cult. Saray: Yes, listen to James. The Silence: I will respect our comrade''s decision. As for my vernacular, I disagree. I am merely expressing myself in more eloquent terms than you are used to. KillLaKrill: Drama queen. For someone named silence, you sure do use a lot of big words. The Silence: Shush. TechnoGogo: Thanks, guys. MagicIsTragic: I don''t want to force you to or guilt trip you into doing anything. I just hoped we could have done this together. TechnoGogo: Maybe another time. MagisIsTragic: Sure. KillLaKrill: For some reason, I''m not convinced you''re satisfied. (Mod)Seagullag: Krill, read the mood. KillLaKrill: Sorry, sorry. Saray: Anyway. I''m happy it went well for you Techno, and I hope you make the cut. Did they say how many people they planned on taking in? MagicIsTragic: Nah, they were pretty vague on that. I''m guessing they''re waiting to see what''s available before making a choice. It isn''t worth hiring ten people if only two are good, and limiting yourself to three spots if there are fourteen who impressed you. Saray: Ah, right. KillLaKrill: I mean, they don''t have infinite money. There''s a hard limit on what they can afford to do. The Silence: Depending on Silhouette''s bond with Blake Black, he may be allowed a friendlier loan than most. KillLaKrill: Would you get into a loan with the Black Bank? The Silence: No. But I also neither have a budding company nor a positive relationship with the local branch manager. JamesIsInTheDark: Yeah, after hearing about them, I''m not sure I''d take a loan either. A regular loan is bad enough even if necessary, so a loan from a family like that... It sends shivers down my spine. The Silence: They are operating legally. KillLaKrill: And so are the Hivines. Your point is? (Mod)Seagullag: Remember, as per Zalcian laws they are a recognized religion and need to be treated as such. Don''t get the website plugged off again, please. KillLaKrill: Right. Well, I don''t like them, and I think they are doing plenty of weird stuff that should be looked into, but nothing is happening. Just look at what happened to Daisy. Saray: Is she still around? (Mod)Seagullag: She starts preaching whenever she''s unmuted. She''s doing the same on the forum''s other chatrooms. I give it a try every now and then, but I don''t think she''ll be joining us back anytime soon. KillLaKrill: I''m sure they brainwashed her with the Transformation Aspect. (Mod)Seagullag: Krill, remember. JamesIsInTheDark: I''m not sure it''s Transformation, to be honest. KillLaKrill: What? Saray: Why? JamesIsInTheDark: My boss and his friend. A pair of shapeshifting ones kept dropping at work trying to recruit us until the boss caught them breaking in and chased them off. After that, they discussed the fact those didn''t match how Transformation works. Saray: Your boss knows Transformation? Does that mean he has it? JamesIsInTheDark: That or something that replicates it. His friend makes some weird stuff. MagicIsTragic: Where do you even work? JamesIsInTheDark: NDA. MagicIsTragic: Drats. KillLaKrill: So they got her another way. JamesIsInTheDark: I don''t know. If they did brainwash her, it wasn''t with Transformation at least, unless those preachers were different somehow. (Mod)Seagullag: Remember, behave. As for those preachers, I''m going to guess those were Siblings. They always travel in pairs, they keep changing looks, and they travel the city spreading their faith. No one is sure how many of them are exactly, aside from at least a dozen. What''s sure is that their memory keeps on shifting. Sometimes they remember people, sometimes not. They''re also the only high-ranking members to have had trouble with the law. If it isn''t a loose follower or two cooking up a scheme on their own, it''s a pair of these. It''s how we know there are at least twelve: it''s how many of them were imprisoned at the same time. TechnoGogo: Sounds like you know a lot about them. (Mod)Seagullag: I did my research, to check what was factual and could be said and what would fall under discrimination. MagicIsTragic: We appreciate your sacrifice, soldier. (Mod)Seagullag: I''m not a soldier. MagicIsTragic: Right, sore topic, forgot, sorry. (Mod)Seagullag: It''s alright. TechnoGogo: So... To get away from all the heavy topics, who wants to talk about the underwater hockey match? KillLaKrill: The Gorgons are gonna take it, it''s no secret. (Mod)Seagullag: The Pelicans got a new trainer, don''t dismiss them yet. JamesIsInTheDark: I''m sorry, the what now?
And thus was James put through a thorough explanation of the number one sport in Zalcien. Chapter 187 : School begins! Had he had a mouth, James wouldn''t have been able to keep a smile off his face. The day had finally arrived. His children''s first day of school. He had adjusted the application schedule to have this moment and give it his full focus rather than try to multitask with one of his body doubles. He still did have one of his doubles in the office and planned on using it as an intermediary when he got back to work, but he knew he still struggled with "controlling" one and doing things himself at the same time. He had improved since the time he had accompanied Techlord to see Doctor Drake, but it still would distract him too much to live the moment. But now wasn''t the time for worries or plans related to Silhouette or Shades Of Penumbra. No. Now was the time to be a parent. Sadly to keep his identities as James and Silhouettes distinct he couldn''t form tentacles to handhold all of his children, his current form was simply that of a pitch-black featureless man wearing casual clothes. But he still had two hands, and Goliath and Blanche were more than happy to accept his offer when they left their home. Foudre walked alongside them, sprinting and stopping in a constant cycle as she observed everything around them. David for his part tried his best to look bored as he followed, Lucille on his figurative tail to make sure he didn''t run or do something stupid. James chuckled at their antics. He always made sure to make time for them when his work was done, but he had yet to find enough free time to take them on an outing yet, aside from the occasional visit to the park. He had allowed them to leave the apartment so long as they stayed together, warned him and Mischief beforehand, and didn''t go too far, but he knew school would be a fresh experience that would fill in for those lonesome moments. Perhaps he could have found more time if he sacrificed some of his time training with Mesker, but the hanging threat of the Hivines stopped that train of thought. He couldn''t live worrying about every little thing, but unlike Wicked Witchcraft, the nature-based cult had yet to show they had given up. He shook his head. No, now wasn''t the time for these thoughts. Goliath looked at him curiously, but a quick word of reassurance was enough to bring back a wide smile on his snout, his eyes boggling in joy - a particular trait of rats James had been unaware of before his time in Zalcien that still surprised him from time to time. The ratlings had clothes, now. Not uniforms, they were going to a public school, but James figured being dressed would help them fit in a little better. Technically they didn''t need them - they had fur against the cold and the laws regarding sapient and ascended animals stipulated they weren''t mandatory as they were with humans - but James figured it would help differentiate them from pets or wild critters, particularly when dealing with other kids. Children were vicious. Of course, finding clothes for relatively giant rats wasn''t easy. As time passed and they grew closer to the size of normal children they had gotten slightly more humanoid, but they were still more rat than human. They still had short limbs and potato-shaped bodies, they had just adapted to better maintain a bipedal posture. Thanking about it, it might be fairer to say they had gotten closer to kangaroos rather than humans. Those changes didn''t hinder their abilities or stop them from returning to their natural methods, as Foudre demonstrated each time she ran. Luckily for James, clothing stores in Zalcien did accommodate more unique builds, to the point they had entire sections for animal-compatible clothes. It was a smaller selection, but still better than some demographics got back on Earth. Goliath happily wore a Captain Cyan shirt with red shorts. Well, shorts for a human, for a rat with stubby limbs they were full-on pants. He was surprisingly the one who adapted to the concept of clothes the fastest and loved wearing them, even at home. His wardrobe was essentially only composed of more Captain Cyan shirts, each one with the titular Hero in a different pose, and more shorts. Foudre''s style was a little odder. She wore a blue bandana as a scarf and had a leather belt around her waist, with a few of Goliath''s most harmless gadgets attached to it or in its pouches. James had made sure that she only carried things that could be considered toys, not weapons. To complete the look she had a pair of aviator goggles and another bandana, this one tied to the middle of the tail, between the two kinks that gave it a lightning bolt shape. Unsurprisingly, David''s choice of attire was somewhat similar. Well, in a certain way. He only wore the bare minimum to please James, in his case a leather strap that went from over his right shoulder to under his left one. That was enough for him to feel uncomfortable, though, after a few days of getting used to it, he didn''t try to claw it off as often. James did try to recommend a bandana instead if the leather felt too cumbersome, but the young rat had been vehemently opposed to the idea of wearing anything that could be compared to a collar. Lucille''s choice was a little strange at first but made sense when giving it more thought. One would expect her to go with something that was all about practicality, perhaps a body suit or sports clothes, but instead, she went for a sweater. James was afraid she''d get a little too hot wearing it, but she argued was her fur''s semi-metallic nature had made it colder than normal. And that fur was the other big reason she wore a sweater: it helped cover a lot of it, preventing accidental contact and scraping. And lastly, there was Blanche, the albino diva. Oh, James loved her, but he was well aware of her flaws. Which was why he had been confused by her preferred style at first. Rather than go for expensive clothes, jewelry, or frilly stuff, she had gone for a mostly transparent pinkish dress and red ribbons tied around her limbs in neat little bows with their length left to them to flutter in the wind. What James should have realized was that his fashion-focused daughter was a rat first and foremost, and the beauty of her fur and features took precedence over what silly clothes could do. Given said fur, he didn''t mind the transparent dress too much.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Finally, they reached their destination. The place that would become the ratlings'' school. James had to give it credit, it looked much better than any place he ever learned at. The building looked to be a two-story tall rectangle, with a central square tower with an extra floor and a large mechanical clock on each of its faces. Before the building proper could be reached though was a small park filled with flowers, with neat paths to traverse it to and fro the sidewalk. There were walls surrounding the school, with a large metal gate that was to welcome them, and given what could happen in a world of Supers, James had to admit he appreciated the extra security. The gate wasn''t an ugly thing either, not some pair of cold iron slabs but rather a metal floral composition, with plenty of small holes and openings left to let in light. The walls were decorated too, with paintings of landscapes and people, though how much of that was intentional and how much was the work of graffers was a mystery. Truth be told, this wasn''t the first time James saw the place, and not just when he came to register his kids. While Marie had praised the place, He didn''t just blindly trust her. He knew she meant well, but he also knew it was always better to check for yourself. He had looked into the place online and saw that it was clean. No big problems with bullying, strange classes, drug dealing, or creepy teachers. It wasn''t the best school in Zalcien, but it was still a great public one. James spared a look at fellow parents bringing in their children and kids descending from blue school buses before stopping, kneeling on the concrete pavement to be closer to eye level with the ratlings, still a short distance away from the school proper. "Alright kids, one final check, some last pieces of advice, and then I''m giving you your bags and you''re off. So, does everyone remember the emergency number?" "Yes, father. I also made sure it can be called with a single press from each of our phones'' respective contact lists." "Good work, Lucille." "Yes, thanks again, Lu. But it''s not like we have different contacts, we just have dad and each other." "That may be true for now Foudre, but you kids are about to make a lot of new friends. You''re used to hanging out together all the time for now, but that won''t always be the kids. I''m not sure people who get along with Goliath will like David, for instance." The smallest rat scoffed but commented no further. David himself knew that anyone he could consider a friend would find his larger brother to be too much of a softie. "Alright, the emergency number is good. You have mine as well. You all know the route back home just in case, but I should be here when you get out. If I''m not, call me before doing anything. Don''t follow anyone unless I call you to tell you to." "We know, Papa, we know. We will not be fooled by the free candy in the white van." "I know you''re smart kids Blanche, but you never know. And more often than not there are much subtler stunts than that. Someone pretending to fall or have a heart attack to drag you into a dark alley, for instance." "If anyone tries anything like that with me, old man, they ain''t getting back up." "Good. Better them than you." David''s eyes widened at that, almost taking a step back. His siblings were equally surprised, even Lucille tilted her head. "Don''t get me wrong, I want you all to do your best to stay out of trouble. If trouble comes to you regardless? Make sure you make it out, no matter what." The children didn''t know what to say to that, so James just continued. "Anyway, that''s all that dealt with. Now, onto the last stuff. First off, be nice to your teacher. If you think they''re acting strange report them to the director and tell me, don''t act yourself. Pay attention in class and make trouble. Be nice to the other kids, too. They may struggle a bit at first since you''re rats, but they''ll get over it quickly enough. Foudre, you''ll blend in with no trouble." "Cool." "Lucille, remember that you''re a kid, not a soldier. Have fun. Play with others. Don''t think about work all the time." "As you command, father." "Right, that still needs some work. Blanche, I want you to understand that rats and humans don''t have the same beauty standards, so don''t be too offended if no one compliments your dress. Don''t criticize others'' outfits either unless they''re actively asking you to and make sure to be kind with your advice." "Have no worry, Papa. I know the ruffians struggle to understand the intricacies of fashion and proper class. I will be merciful. Why, I can already picture how I''ll help improve those who realize my greatness!" "Yeah, that''ll need some work too. Goliath, I''m sure you''ll make tons of friends. But, if you feel anyone is a little pushy when playing or too mean, tell your siblings." "Yes, Daddy!" "And now, David." James looked at his troublesome child as he took off the five bags that had been dangling from his shoulder since they left their apartment. "Lucille, take the bags and the others to the gate. David and I will join you in a bit, we just need to talk alone for a moment." "Your will be done, father." The most responsible of James'' kids distributed the bags to her two sisters and her larger brother before leading them away carrying both her bag and David''s, barely sparing a glance at the conversation happening behind them. After waiting a few seconds to make sure they''d be out of earshot with all the ambient noise and activity, James got even closer to his youngest and whispered. "David. When I said no trouble, I meant it." "Yeesh, I know." "I mean it. I want no bullying. No fighting. No threats." "I know, I know, play nice and all that. Seriously, was that all for that, old man?" "When I say no trouble, I also mean it the other way." "What?" "If anyone starts getting rowdy with your siblings. If someone tries to tear Blanche''s fur off. If someone tries to pull on Foudre''s tail. If anyone has the smart idea to make any of you bleed. I don''t want any of that." "Are you... Are you giving me the okay to..." "Kids can be vicious, David. I trust Lucille to handle things diplomatically and go through the proper system, but I also know sometimes the system fails. Stories of kids committing suicide after they were harassed aren''t rare simply because the situation is uncommon, it''s because it''s hard to prove. Kids don''t kill themselves over nothing. If any brat tries to pull any of that stuff with any of you, I want you to deal with it. No death, no maiming, nothing permanent, but enough to put the fear of the gods in them. If that isn''t enough? Give me the names and I''ll handle it myself." "That''s... That''s uncharacteristically dark of you, old man." "David. I got to be where I am today by killing people or corrupting their souls. I may not like doing it, but I do what I have to to give you a good life. I won''t let anything ruin that. Besides, it shouldn''t escalate to that point. Most bullies are cowards. Showing off your claws should be enough." The relatively small rat slowly nodded, prompting James to get back up and return to a louder voice. "Alright, let''s meet back up with your siblings." James'' youngest looked pensive as he followed his father back to the others. James gave them all one big final group hug before letting them go, waving them goodbye after pointing out the school faculty member who would bring them up to speed and their class. "Have fun kids!" Chapter 188 : Meeting the teacher Goliath was mesmerized by the sight of all the other children around them, to the point that the oldest and largest of the ratlings almost failed to follow his sister and instead got lost among the crowd. Almost. He may have been naive and easily impressed, but Goliath wasn''t a little pup anymore. He was a big boy! The kind lady their daddy had shown them welcomed the group in and gave them a quick run-through of the rules, a reminder of things they already went over with their dad. Goliath didn''t mind, he knew how important it was to get things right! They didn''t sit still during that, either. The kind lady led them through the school, showing different areas and explaining what they did, like the computer lab and the gym. David had snickered at the sight of the exercising equipment, and Goliath couldn''t deny that they were used to better stuff back home, back when they were still in the sewers. But it was still nice! And their daddy had explained that while there were tons of people who wanted to become Heroes when they were kids, most didn''t give it the effort it deserved. They were the ones who stood out for training so much, not the other way around. Besides, it wasn''t nice to make fun of something because it didn''t look as nice as something else. Goliath knew that was just how David was, but that was still a little mean. He wasn''t mad, though. While he liked to mock and berate, his brother had a good heart. That was just his way of communicating! But all those cool places were empty for their visit. School hadn''t truly started yet, students had a big free period in the morning to socialize and give time for everyone to arrive. Goliath wished they could have been making friends with and playing with the other children, but he understood the importance of doing this visit beforehand and in a calm setting. He wasn''t he could have listened as well if he had been distracted by all the cool people he couldn''t wait to meet! But soon came the time the lady told them the tour was over and it was time for them to join their class, right in time for the bell that signaled periods to ring. It wasn''t the shrill sound their daddy had described from his days back in school, rather it was a short melody of a handful of notes that repeated three times. Goliath found it quite catchy, if a little loud. That was probably the source of the difference: he knew he and his siblings had far better hearing than most people, but they weren''t the only ones in that case. The bell from his daddy''s childhood would have probably hurt his ears a lot. She accompanied them to the room that would become part of their daily life for the year to come - well, a good chunk of the year, they did miss a bit of the beginning. She reassured them that it was fine if they didn''t get everything right away, that things had already been arranged to give them additional to cover material the rest of the class had already studied in previous years. Their situation would even be taken into account when it came to notation, whatever that meant. But she said it so cheerfully, it must have meant something good! Of course, it was when they were facing the door separating them from the next step of their life that Goliath began to get jitters. He was happy to go to school, promise! He''d seen all that cool stuff about it in Captain Cyan, there''d be tons of new friends to meet, and their daddy had worked so hard to make sure they could go! It was just... Well, this would be the first time they would be in a situation where he wasn''t involved at all. No kind shadow watching over them. No funny employees to help if they struggled with something. They would have no reason to care about them, just a bunch of rats. Goliath let a weak squeak as he felt a light slap between his shoulders. He turned to see David glaring at him, his eyes filled not with mean-spiritedness but with his unique brand of angry support. "Don''t you wanna make friends or something, you big dummy? Stop stressing over stuff that hasn''t happened yet. Now let''s go in, I wanna take a nap and I can''t do that standing there like an idiot." The kind lady looked like she was about to admonish David, but the glowing smile on Goliath stopped in her tracks. Unbeknownst to the two rats, while she would let it slide this time, she made it a point to write down the interaction later. Their father had warned the school that the smallest one had a temper and was likely to get into trouble, but keeping a record of incidents like this one was already standard practice, to see if any strange behaviors emerged. In a world where anyone could develop powers and go down the path of Super Villainy, watching for early signs was key to preventing new Villains from emerging when their creation could have been prevented. The kind lady knocked and a happy male voice invited her to come in, prompting her to open the door and reveal what was on the other side. The room itself felt surprisingly mundane, with a nice brown wooden floor and warm beige walls, with posters and maps all over. There were shelves and a pair of closets, all in the same shade of beige as the walls, and one of the walls was entirely covered by a black rectangle. Their daddy had said there were whiteboards when he was a kid, so maybe this was a blackboard? But the real show stopper was the ensemble of desks, or rather, their occupants. Yes, the dozen or so pieces of furniture arranged in three columns watching the bigger one in front of the black wall were interesting, but anywhere as much as the people sitting at them, generally two per desk. Most of the other children looked human-ish, with a few sharper ears or bulbous noses with height differences here and there, but a third was vastly different from the rest. Horns, tails, feathers, scales, colorful skin tones... Those were the non-human kids, and Goliath was very happy to see they weren''t all grouped up together but evenly spread with the others. That meant no one would mind them being rats too much!This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Standing at the front of the class and leaning against the biggest was the only adult in the room, though some of the kids in the back were big enough to lead to some confusion. He was a man, a tall one at that, with a rather lean physique. He wore a fancy dark tan suit with a white button-up shirt visible beneath, his light skin visible only on his face, neck, and hands. What stood out however was the lime green necktie with dinosaur heads on it, a clear clash with the rest of the ensemble that even Goliath could spot, and he didn''t need to turn around to know Blanche was probably gasping at the faux-pas. He liked to hear her rant about fashion, she always sounded so passionate. She even helped him when designing their future costumes, for when they''d be Heroes! The teacher''s face was rather thin, though not to the point of having prominent cheekbones. If anything, there was something almost childish about it despite the faint wrinkles Goliath could spot, with no facial hair to speak of outside of his eyebrows. His short messy hair was a dirty blonde, with a mix of lighter and darker hairs with a few grey ones in the mix. Another strange accessory was his pair of round glasses, with temples covered in dark brown feathers that crowned his ears like some sort of inverted laurels. His dark blue eyes looked at the new arrivals with a spark in them that Goliath couldn''t quite place but still felt reassuring. His sense of fashion may be dead, but he had a very nice smile! "Why, hello there, Francine! And I''m guessing you five will be our new students?" Hushed whispers exploded in the ranks of children at that, and the nice lady smiled as she encouraged the ratlings to walk inside as she stayed by the door. "That''s right. Don''t worry children, you''re in good hands. He may be strange, but he''s one of our most popular teachers for a reason. And Theo? You might want to be extra careful with them. Their father struck me as the worrywart sort." The teacher chuckled as he waved the siblings in. "Don''t worry Francine, everything will go well. Come on in kids! Francine can''t just stand there all day, she has work to do. I think." She snorted before leaving, closing the door behind the ratlings. The man smiled at them. "Alright, I''m Mister Pteryx, I''ll be your teacher for the rest of the year outside of special circumstances like sports classes or if I''m sick. Class, as you can see we have some new students who will be joining us. I''ll let you five introduce yourselves. Don''t be shy, tell us a bit about yourselves." The siblings looked at each other, trying to determine which should go first. Well, they quickly figured it out. Lucille took charge and established an order before stepping forward to face the class, her front paws clasped behind her back. She looked more like a military instructor than a child about to introduce herself, but hey, that was just how she was. "Salutations. My name is Lucille Valdest. I am a rat who grew into sapience. I like keeping things orderly and games with a lot of rules. My fur is metallic, so avoid direct contact or risk getting a cut." Mister Pteryx blinked a few times. "Well, that was concise. And thank you for the warning, I trust other students with similar situations will inform you of their condition later. Next!" Blanche took to the stage - the front of the classroom - and posed, her powers making her dress and ribbons flutter in non-existent wind as she showed off her profile. "Greetings! I am Blanche Valdest, a lover of beauty and the fine arts. Should anyone wish to talk about fashion, I''m the rodent for you. Just look at my fur!" She twirled to show off her albino fur and Mister Pteryx politely clapped, a smile on his face. "Ah, that''s more in line with what I was expecting. Say, what do you think of my look?" All of Blanche''s good mood vanished as she stared at the man in disgust. "Burn that wretched tie and pluck those abominable glasses." The adult gasped dramatically before letting himself almost fall over, placing one of his hands on his desk to hold himself while he balanced with one extended leg and his other hand placed on his forehead, palm to the air. "You wound me, you adorable little miss. Why, we simply must go on to the next one, or else I fear I will faint!" A chorus of groans and chuckles echoed from the sitting students at his little act. Foudre just shrugged as she stepped forward, Mr. Pteryx already back to a normal posture by the time she began to speak. "Yo. I''m Foudre. Valdest too, but at this point, it should be obvious we''re siblings. Born from the same litter, at that. I''m not a weirdo like the others, so if you just wanna chill or something, hit me up." "Hm. Simple, but that is perfectly fine. Thank you Foudre. Next?" Goliath smiled with glee but didn''t go forward until he made sure David was fine with him going first, a disinterested hand wave encouraging the largest brother to go on ahead. Goliath excitedly waved at the class as he began. "Hello! I''m Goliath! I love tinkering stuff together and Captain Cyan! I''m super duper excited to meet you all and make new friends! I also love giving hugs!" Mister Pteryx cooed before catching himself, faking a cough as he turned to address the class. "Hear that, everyone? If anyone felt like their life was lacking in hugs, I''m sure Goliath would be happy to help! Just remember to ask, first. And last but not least..." David scoffed before speaking. "Name''s David. I like fighting. I like hunting. I like training." "When you say hunting, do you mean..." The smallest ratling grinned as he showed off his claws. "Oh, those look sharp. Alright, just know that hunting is forbidden on school grounds." David''s smile fell and turned into confusion. "Wait, they actually thought to make that a rule?" "You''re not the first sapient animals to join, you know. Even without that, some cultures are much less judgemental of hunting in general so long as the prey is non-sapient and wild. Orc children from tribal backgrounds, for instance. I''m sure you and Lyra will have a lot in common." Pteryx used his chin to point at one of the students in the back, a tall broad green girl with massive tusks who, even while sitting, was almost level with the teacher''s pectorals. She smiled as she was pointed out, exposing a row of very sharp teeth. Her lightly leaning forward was enough to tense her muscles to the point they could be somewhat discerned through her baggy clothes. David grinned back. Mister Pteryx clapped twice. "Alright, thank you for your introduction. Now go find some empty seats to sit down. As fun as making new friends is, I still have a class to teach. Francine should have mentioned it on the way here, but don''t worry if you don''t understand everything. After class, we''ll go over your schedule for some extra classes to catch you up to speed. Don''t hesitate to ask questions if you''re confused either, I may not have the time to explain everything during the usual class but I''ll try to summarize so you can still figure out what''s happening." Goliath and his siblings nodded before heading to join the other students. Time to make new friends! Chapter 189 : The first class Mister Pteryx nodded happily as he saw the latest students had found themselves places to sit. Lucille, the overly serious one, had found a place in the front row next to a spectacled human boy who didn''t seem to care much. It didn''t surprise him, Timothy wasn''t one to care about anything but his studies and future plans, but hopefully those two would open up in time. Blanche, the albino fashionista, was already engaged in what appeared to be a passionate conversation with her deskmate, Christie, a sea serpent sirene with iridescent scales who seemed just as fascinated with her new friend''s pristine white fur as the small one was with her reptilian physique. When sapience was involved animal instincts and stereotypes were usually dismissable, but seeing the rodent and the snake chatting right away still did warm his heart. Foudre had decided to settle next to Bruce, the most clich¨¦ skateboarder bro the world had ever seen. It was adorable how the youth went out of his way at every turn to make sure to keep his theme, a fact that was made all the more heartwarming when one knew the lengths his parents went to when it came to encouraging his dreams, such as the skateboard-shaped biscuits they prepared him every day. They even had functional wheels! The teacher could already see the two exchanging bro tips and how the young girl''s interest in trying out his passion made the boy smile. David, the little troublemaker in the making, didn''t hesitate one second to join Lyra, regardless of the fact the orc was sitting in the back with the other taller students for a reason. While students could sit wherever they pleased, he did try to organize them by height so that everyone could see the front of the class. The second to last row wasn''t as bad as the last one, but David was a particularly short individual. Pteryx frowned as he made a note to ask for an adjusted desk later. David would be fine without it for a day, particularly the first day when the siblings weren''t truly meant to learn but rather get used to how school works, but it was still something he would need to put in place. Yes, he had a feeling he would need to prepare a lot more things for the little one in the future. Let it never be said that Theodore Pteryx didn''t like a challenge! Not to mention, seeing kids grow as people was always a delight. Goliath, the little sweetheart, was the one who seemed to have the most trouble finding a seat. Not because no one wanted him, but the opposite. Too many people were inviting him to sit next to them, leading to at least half a minute of obvious pondering before ultimately resorting to the old classic "point at things in rhythm with a little song until it ends" trick, leading the bulkiest of the little mammals to sit next to Amelia. Theodore wasn''t surprised quite a few raised eyebrows at the otherwise prickly human girl inviting someone and trying to make friends of her own volition, but he knew that beneath all the black and violet gloom and spikes was a kind heart. He also knew from running into her at the cinema during an anniversary that she too loved the old Superhero cartoon show based on real events, her usual attire replaced by a full cosplay of Green Girl. The way she got even more embarrassed when she realized he wasn''t a fellow Captain Cyan fan but was there to watch a different movie had given him a good chuckle, though he had made to reassure her there was nothing wrong with liking old things or having varied tastes. While Captain Cyan may have fallen somewhat out of fashion in recent years, it was still a worthwhile watch for those her age. Still, he did promise her to keep her secret, and he had successfully done exactly that. Perhaps spending some time with such a sweet boy would help her realize she could openly like both Nightmare Zone Nox and something more warmhearted. Only time would tell. The way she had to fight to keep her eyes off her adorable deskmate''s face as he watched their teacher eagerly told Theodore they were on the right track. "Alright class, I understand everyone''s excited to see some new arrivals, but we still have a curriculum to follow. They may not have as much time when recess comes but you''ll still have lunch to learn more about each other. So, this morning we will be talking about something I''m sure a lot of you are curious about: how did Zalcien come to be." The teacher stood a little straighter and clapped once again, the screen on the wall behind turning on to reveal depictions of a city that didn''t match their home. "Now, while we went over bits and pieces of our history in previous classes, I feel it is only fair to our new arrivals and the more forgetful among you to summarize some events before getting to the foundation of today''s Zalcien. So, as a reminder, Zalcien is part of the ACS, the Alliance of City States - or Association, depending on local lingo - a nation formed close to four hundred years ago." A boy with spiky red hair raised his hand. "Mister Pteryx, why does the ACS have the two names?" "Alliance is the historical and thus most commonly used term. A few decades ago a movement to use Association instead began, to cement our bond as more than a mere militaristic or economic alliance. As you can guess it didn''t take, but the term is still popular enough to be considered valid. Does that answer your question?" "Yes teach!" "Wonderful! Well, where was I? Ah, right. The ACS was founded close to four hundred years ago. I''m sure some of you have heard that there are already preparations for the proper 400th anniversary two years from now. At the time only six city-states existed, banding together to fend off invaders and opportunistic raiders interested in the still young settlements. We have come much further since then, with officially fifty members and many more small semi-independent settlements. The ACS was formed by settlers from the Old Continent, originally here on behalf of different nations for the sake of colonization. Without their original government close to keep them subservient, those settlers slowly began to form their own identities. Official cessation came one after the other and soon the city-states allied to protect themselves from their former rulers. As luck would have it, those from the Old Continent failed to agree on how to handle the situation, each one considering the newly born ACS their rightful territory regardless of the previous presence of the others."This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. He waved to the screen which now showed multiple maps of the time, revealing that there were more battles between the invading powers than against the ACS itself. "The leaders of the Alliance at the time took advantage of their behavior and engineered even more discord and conflict. Soon other colonial settlements grew discontent at the resource drain of the war and joined the revolution, making the ACS even stronger and leading our newborn nation to take over former enemy outposts without bloodshed. The process wasn''t a peaceful walk in the park though. Not every city in the ACS today joined willingly." A girl with a crocodile''s head raised her hand. "Does that include Zalcien?" "Ah, no. For you see, Zalcien was founded after the Great Rebellion. There was an unoccupied stretch of land, the ACS needed to expand to develop its agriculture to feed its population now that it had grown and lost all support from overseas, it was a match made in heaven." Lyra the orc wasn''t fully convinced. "Was the land truly unoccupied?" "For the most part, surprisingly, yes. The old Zalcien was built close to three hundred years ago on a massive swamp that native inhabitants considered cursed grounds. For once, no natives were harmed in the process. The few tribes who lived around the swamp left on their own when the settlers came near and migrated to other regions. We do know where they are today, though they have remained reclusive to this day." Another child raised their voice. "Oh! Was it built the same year as the hundredth anniversary of the ACS?" "No, but close. It was built thirteen months prior. Well, considered founded thirteen months prior. Even with the Creation Aspect, building a city that size takes some time. Now, as I was saying, Zalcien was made to be the agricultural heart of the ACS." Christie and Blanche exchanged a look before speaking as one. "In a swamp?" "Wetlands are beneficial in agriculture, yes. Ideally, they should coexist rather than just uproot everything and replace it with wheat, but the nutrients in the soil alone should be enough to justify the venture. Still, I do wish Zalcien''s founders had the foresight not to erase an entire ecosystem. Regardless, Zalcien was built for agriculture. Now, while there is still a healthy amount of it outside the city''s walls, you should be aware that we never rose to be this key piece we were meant to be. The answer as to why is tragically simple: advances in magic and technology made raising crops smoother and required less land, robbing Zalcien of its purpose. From that point on, why go to Zalcien when other more established city-states were available?" Bruce raised his hand. "Is that why we''re bums?" "Language, and do not depreciate us too much. Zalcien may be on the lower end of things, but we''re far from the worst city-state to live in. But yes, our home lacking something to make it stand out from the rest is partly responsible for its relative forgettableness. That wasn''t helped by what happened nearly a hundred years ago. The end of the Old Zalcien, and the birth of the new." This time it was Lucille''s turn to raise her hand, though unlike the others she waited for her teacher to nod before speaking. "The Sunken City." Pteryx smiled. "Indeed, the Sunken City. While the specifics are unclear to this day, a good deal of censorship and corruption keeping history muddled, what we do know is that someone brought something to the Old Zalcien. Before this event, while the city wasn''t glorious it was still doing well. If we are below average today, we were slightly above in those times. When this something broke out of this someone''s hold, it became a catastrophe that overran the city to the point there was no choice but to abandon it. After evacuating as many as possible, the Hero Union and the army collaborated to end the threat at any cost." The screen shifted this time to reveal a painting of an old city. Red tendrils and tentacles were everywhere and some growing higher than some of the tallest buildings. Above the city was a gigantic green ball of light, so massive it nearly blotted out the sky and colored everything green, even the sun on the horizon. Several children gasped or gulped while others got a shine in their eyes. "You can see why they felt the need to do so. The threat was put to an end, but so was the city. Although officially declared purged and safe, a decision was made to abandon the Old Zalcien regardless. The ACS worked together to create a dome-like structure to quarantine the ruins while offering space and accommodations to build Zalcien anew. While nicknamed the Black Dome, you can guess as to why the title was never officialized. During construction, former Zalcians were housed by neighboring city-states. Many were displeased to be forced to house refugees without warning. Tensions rose in some areas, though thankfully nothing ever went too far. The Dome was finished, placed over the ruins, basic infrastructures were made, and the people of Zalcien returned to their home, now forever changed." The painting was replaced by a photograph of what would become the modern Zalcien. The Dome Pteryx spoke of was clearly visible, a black half of a cone rising from the ground surrounded by fields. The picture was old, the barebones beginning of the city atop the manmade base lacking the many buildings that would become part of Zalcien''s landscape in the modern age. Still, anyone having seen a picture of the city from outside would recognize it. "Of course, it wasn''t perfect. While officially the threat that necessitated such heavy measures was obliterated, it is hard to ignore its similitude to the Horror, one of our local monsters, and how that creature''s attack that led to the creation of the slums was eerily similar to the initial catastrophe. Since then, however, there have been no more major incidents surrounding it, in part thanks to the agreement between the city''s powers and its Villains. You can''t commit crimes if there is no city." The teacher clapped his hands. "Alright! Now that we''ve done the broad overview, time to get to the nitty gritty and dive deeper. I know it''s the part you like the least, but it''s time to learn some names and dates." The students groaned as the man shrugged. "I know, I know. But sadly, those are things you can''t just handwave away." Chapter 190 : A loose end While the kids were off to school, James wasn''t idle. He had his applicant interviews in the morning, something that was a bizarre hybrid of mundane and odd that he would be delighted to see out of his routine, but his afternoon was far more eventful. Right after noon, he had his training with Mesker. Past his initial session to judge his abilities and behavior, their meetings had become true lessons. They did not always involve testing in the field, with some of those dedicated to talking about potential strategies and exploring James'' current abilities at rest being some of the more fruitful. As the demonologist had put it during one of those encounters, fighting may have helped to learn how to better battle, but some things had to be learned in the quietude of a study. James had superpowers, but he had learned to use them like a street urchin learning how to fight. It was all about desperate survival, there was no proper technique. James was relying on his natural overwhelming force and some bits of psychological warfare, leaving him struggling against braver foes with enough strength to fight back. Looking back, had James undergone those lessons far earlier, he wouldn''t have struggled so much against Runar. The runemaster was perfectly suited to counter James at the time: he was calm and calculated, using his runes to control and set the pace of the battle, denying James'' power. Had James not learned about runes and found Karadok''s runebreaker, he wasn''t certain he would have won that day - if his enemy fleeing and James compromising his means of escape could truly be counted as a victory. Runar was far from defeated, only his hair had been corrupted and he had enough stamina left in him to fight a while longer. Had the mage been less of a worrywart... But James had grown since then. In multiple ways. Each day that passed his powers grew stronger. He was gaining more and more mass, usually safely negated in shadow form, and even his transformative powers had grown more efficient. It was hard to measure precisely since he usually restrained himself to small items, but the rate of conversion had quickened, and even the bonds in his soul space felt stronger. But while the increase in sheer power was welcome if a little concerning as to what he might become in the future, it''s the control Mesker helped him with that truly changed things. For starters, a proper magic teacher rather than a simplistic glorified pamphlet did wonders. Not because Mesker taught him new spells, but because he showed him how to properly shape magic. As the old wizard had put it in the past, magical schools could be compared to schools of martial arts, and while developing a unique style was encouraged to reach the greatest heights, learning tried and true techniques was a necessary step to a proper foundation. You couldn''t forge a new path if you were lost and far from the crossroads. But even outside of spellwork and tactics, Mesker helped James understand more about his new body, to get more familiar with it. Though he had by now gotten used to fighting as immaterially as possible, making sure not to have a proper body for opponents to target as much as he could, Mesker had been the one to help him start spreading his consciousness more. He had to be more than just one big blob, he had to be the ever-shifting darkness and the nightmares it hosted. A black wolf was scary, yes, but being lost alone at night in the woods surrounded by unknown threats was far more unsettling. After his training was over, James still had to manage his operations. He trusted his subordinate to handle the day-to-day, but he still had to check in every now and then. Especially since they had begun a new expansion campaign, both above and below ground. As Shades Of Penumbra was growing as a business, so was Silhouette''s empire. This new wave of growth was slower than his initial push to reach a path to the city, in part due to the lack of trusted personnel to cover so much territory but mostly because of the lack of urgency this time around. James had access to the civilized Zalcien now and his veins spread through the foundation of the city to quickly wherever he pleased, this set of expansion was purely for the sake of growing his influence rather than a real need. Well, to grow his influence and reinforce security. Monsters crafted by the Hivines still appeared now and then, nothing close to the rampage that threatened the orphanage but still dangerous enough to warrant having Infused stationed throughout his domain at all times. Truth be told though the Hivines didn''t scare James quite as much as they once did. He wouldn''t dismiss them, they were still one of the three greatest Villainous factions in the city, but by this point, he had a feeling the Biflora wouldn''t risk anything more. They were both public figures, and should any of his worshippers go too far without being discreet enough, the people of Zalcien would know, and the legality of the cult might be put in jeopardy. Not to mention, there was a much juicier target known as Wicked Witchcraft, the illegal cabal falling deeper into disarray as Abrakaboom''s absence grew increasingly obvious. The wizards had lost their scarecrow, and the vultures were ready to feast. No, what James truly feared were the others. The Empress'' forces had yet to antagonize him - to this day the small drone that had killed the ratlings'' original parents was the only thing of the faction James had ever faced - but he wasn''t blind. He was a growing power, and as soon as the situation with Wicked Witchcraft stabilized, all those opportunistic eyes would turn to him. He didn''t have anything to the level of the demented pyromaniac that would deter them. Not yet. Techlord and the Elite Infused were still his greatest fighters, and while they had improved since their fight with the Runarian Knights, they still were far from the level of the powerhouses of the other factions. They were still improving, but not fast enough. It wasn''t as though James could just recruit someone new to fill the role either, both because these sorts were rare and because he couldn''t trust them, not to the level he trusted his current crew.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. There was one possibility, one James refused to entertain. Hiring the Patcher to craft a monster and then transforming it, hopefully breaking whatever hold the butcher had over his transformed victims. He would rather die than go through with that. There was also the matter of Greenheld. The undead... Dryad? Treant? Whatever plant-based lifeform she was, she had proven to be strong. If they could find some way to grant her back means of locomotion, she could act as another agent. Again, James was dissatisfied with the idea. While powerful, the old undead was not a fighter at heart. It was also clear she much preferred to guard the old grounds and children she cared for, dead or alive. No, she was better left where she was. The Marked, perhaps? The white crocodile had proven very intelligent, clever enough to choose to ally with him to chase off others from their shared territory and to express her tolerance of his presence in her waters. Yet, he had a feeling she would prefer to remain a free creature, even if offered the boons of transformation. Even if they had agreed, none of those possibilities would be at the level James wanted. In a duel, he had a feeling Techlord would still best each of them. A willing transformation might change things, and even then he wouldn''t be surprised to see the youngster stay victorious. He was that talented and spiteful. All that to say that if James couldn''t find his own scarecrow, he would need to become the boogeyman himself. He didn''t need to rival monsters like Sunburn, just to be stronger than the average Villain and prove to be too much of a challenge to be worth risking for those major powers. They couldn''t risk getting injured or losing enough time for the Union Heroes to arrive. Villains were notorious for breaking out of jail, but for them to be captured required a heavy beating they would need to recover from beforehand. Not to mention, not everyone could launch a prison break, and escaping was a little harder than just punching through some walls. Those things cost resources. Those people weren''t stupid, they would much rather avoid net losses. This train of thought was partially responsible for James'' return to the slums. He wasn''t flamboyantly exposing himself, but rather discreetly observing something he had wanted to deal with for a little now. An old abandoned hospital, a no man''s land in the slums, a small place of unnerving peace. Grounds haunted by monstrous creations and their even more abominable maker. The Patcher. He wasn''t the strongest or most dangerous of the criminal elements in Zalcien, but he was without a doubt the most infamous. The demented elf owed his continuing freedom to the work he did for the major gangs, proving too valuable to kill, letting him amass all he needed to craft stronger creatures to take care of those who would end his sick acts, as well as his habit of staying hidden in this piece of the slums, a place deemed too dangerous for the Hero Union to attack. To reach these grounds, deeper in the slums than the Black Border James was used to, the Heroes would need to traverse hostile territory, whether on or below ground or risk the anti-aerial defenses of the gangsters on the way. No, the risk wasn''t worth the effort, particularly when the Patcher usually chose to abduct his victims from this lawless land rather than the proper city. Usually. James wouldn''t forget what The Silence had shared in their online chatroom. The maniac had assisted Runar on a purely professional basis, but later on showed interest in James, to the point he had addressed the invisible spy James had sent to observe him to send him a message, to invite him to contact him directly. Afterward, according to Guy''s network, word was that the Patcher offered a discount to any commission so long as it involved Silhouette with the added condition that James would be captured and sent to him. That alone hadn''t been enough to prompt James to move, though he had kept an eye on things. Yesterday, one of his creatures attacked. James and the folks of the orphanage knew it wasn''t one of the Hivines''. The monsters of the Biflora were mindless, puppets obeying orders and following rudimentary instincts, composed seemingly of plants and animals combined. The man-made horror of twisted men who attacked was screaming, begging for death at every step, even as it tried to eviscerate all who met its path. It made no victim thankfully, easily put down by Techlord cutting apart and burning what was left, but the implications were clear. To make matters worse, from what Guy knew, no one had picked up the Patcher on his offer yet. This was a direct attack orchestrated by the maniac himself. James couldn''t just gather his fighters and rush in to bulldoze the hospital and purge the horrors haunting it, though. The Patcher''s location wasn''t the only thing protecting him. The services he provided to the various factions made him too valuable. Any Vigilante who tried their luck would be met with defenders from the gangs. He was an untouchable, and he had the self-control to keep his hands off those he was ordered to ignore to preserve that title. James couldn''t attack openly. Not unless he wanted to make an enemy out of most of the major criminal elements of the city. No. He had to do things discreetly. Because he would do something. The Patcher was a loose end that James had had to ignore, unable to act. A loose end that had been growing increasingly bold. There had been another attack this morning. Even now, observing him silently, Solvent reported yet another monster trying to break into the rune workshop. Those were lone creatures, for now, attacking well-defended positions, but how long would that last? How long until they came in hordes? How long until they began to strike at less armed targets? What if they found his children? He would put an end to this now. He just needed to make sure no one could connect him to what would happen next. As a shadow discreetly slithered closer to the nest of terrors, crows flew in circles in the sky. Chapter 191 : Patchwork In an old operating room, placed on a small square table in a corner, a gramophone played a waltz. The musical device looked like an antique, but it was also clearly carefully maintained, with a radiant shine that made it look brand new. The carefree and joyful music it played as the disc spun was in sharp contrast to what was happening just a few steps away. There were two tables in the center of the room, with enough space between them to give anyone room to work. On one was a pile of bloody raw meat, still pulsing, an array of various bones and barely fleshy limbs placed in neat rows, and an assortment of various organs, they too somewhat ordered though the logic behind their disposition was a mystery. On the other table was today''s subject of the madman running the place, closer to a dissected frog or a hide in the process of curing than a human patient, the wide eyes looking all around in panic the only sign the poor entity of stretched skin and muscles was in fact still alive. Between these tables, dancing to the tune of the music with a heart in one gloved hand and a floating threadless needle spinning around him, was the Patcher. A tall person, though somewhat short by eleven standards. Under different circumstances he might have been called handsome, his pepper hair styled like the spikes of a durian fruit combined with his long face offering a strange charm despite the greyness of the pale blue eyes his round glasses framed, though any such thought was banished by the sight of the leather apron and gloves he wore, the color of the pieces of patchwork that composed leaving little doubt as to the sapient source of this hide. Beneath the gruesome work attire were surprisingly luxurious and stylish clothes, his black pants and white silk button-up shirt more at home on noble or bourgeois of older times than a psychopathic twister of flesh. The most noteworthy piece of fashion on his person other than his apron and gloves had to be the silver chime earrings dangling from his long pointed ears, every little movement of his head leading to light musical notes ringing out, accompanying the tune of the gramophone. His face was graced with a smile, a pleased yet serene look at odds with his bloody work. He hummed along with the tune as he placed the heart in his hand in his subject, adjusting its emplacement a few times before nodding satisfied when it was placed perfectly in the center of where the torso roughly was, wiggling his fingers to order his needle to sew the organ into place, prompting the so far inert muscle to beat once more, spraying a few droplets of blood with every pump. The Patcher smiled, anatomy and logic wept. "I am still undecided as to what to make of you. The Blood Angels have been looking for more muscle to remind everyone of their strength following that little counterfeit money incident, but you don''t strike me as someone powerful. No. Giving you strength would be a waste, you would not be able to use it properly." He let a finger run over a femur. "The Empress did inquire as to whether or not I had hunting hounds to offer. Again, I feel you lack the necessary qualities to use these gifts. Besides, knowing her, she''d prefer something with a better pedigree. Mercury expressed dissatisfaction with the quality of the homunculi their ilk produced lately, but they would want to be present through the entire process. They prefer perfectly tailored commissions to buying existing projects." He hummed as he stared into his victim''s eyes. They sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity before the Patcher''s smile widened. "I have it now. You, my friend, are a runner. A coward. A survivor. Yes, my friend, your place is not on the frontline, at least not as a warrior. You are a messenger. You will fulfill your task, for delivering items will send you toward the safety of greater warriors, and disobeying will bring punishment. Yes, my friend, that is your role." He turned to pick a handful of ribs from one of the tables, holding them up to the medical light above to better compare them. "Powerful limbs focused on running and climbing, body large enough to carry bigger items while remaining small enough to comfortably fit inside - roughly human-sized, then - a cavity to store packages and letters to leave the limbs free, and finally keeping in mind to preserve a lightweight base to ensure speed and agility. It wouldn''t do for you to be so heavy as to make deliveries late now, would it?" He chuckled as he picked four of the bones and brought them to the other table, placing them around the heart like closed jaws. "Two ribcages, one for the heart, one for the lungs. That way, each organ may inflate and deflate to the extreme in case of emergency. It also helps avoid easy lethal damage, I''ll just need to place a few secondary ones in the head and pelvis. That way, even if torn to shreds, you will still be able to do your duty. Beautiful, isn''t it?" A nervous knock at the door interrupted the rest of the tirade, the Patcher''s smile briefly faltering before returning in full bloom as he turned towards the entrance. "Yes, what is it?" A pale bald human head appeared as it opened one of the doors, the entity keeping the rest of its body hidden behind the old wood as it addressed its master. "Phooone...." "Yes, I know it''s the phone. It''s always the phone. Just bring it in." The head nodded before retreating, replaced by a gigantic chubby hand, easily as big as a man''s torso. The grotesque appendage was attached to a limb composed of multiple arms put together, and on its palm was an old black telephone, a rotatory dial on its pyramidal base. The creature made sure to stay stable as it brought its maker the device, and he quickly picked up the phone and began playing with its curly cable, twirling the line absent-mindedly, his floating needle copying the gesture. "Ahoy?" "Patcher." The madman froze and his smile vanished as he heard the pleasant masculine voice of his interlocutor. Instead, for the first time that day, it was replaced by an angry scowl with a click of the tongue. Even with its head and eyes away, the creature could feel the man''s rage, its grotesque limb lightly shaking despite its best efforts.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Biflora. And here I thought today was a good day." "Now is not the time for pettiness, Patcher." "I was under the impression you wanted nothing to do with me. Quite the contradictory choice, given your habit of copying me." "I do not copy your monstrous work, you abominable little pest. I let nature run its course whereas you- Sigh. Now isn''t the time for this. We need to talk about Silhouette." "Oh? Could it be that the high and mighty Biflora poked the bear and now doesn''t know what to do?" "Patcher, this is serious." "Yes, yes. Like me, you saw the potential in him. Unlike me, you rushed in, blind to his abilities. You have his attention, and let me tell you, this path didn''t end well for Runar." "Yes, I am aware of Abrakaboom''s friend and his disappearance. But Patcher, this goes beyond this. If left unchecked, he could grow far beyond what he is now. Already some among our ranks whisper that he may soon equal the Angels if they didn''t have their lantern." "So says you. I wouldn''t put a lot of faith in the words of a brainwashed crowd. Surely you should know that those who fall for a cult''s propaganda are easily influenced, no?" "You know it isn''t this simple." "Perhaps. Regardless, he is far from reaching that point. Even if he did, he wouldn''t have something to equal Sunburn. No one does." "Patcher, surely you see the signs. Abrakaboom has vanished. The Empress and I are growing our influence, removing the taint of Wicked Witchcraft, but when there are no more heretical mages to cull, who do you think will be next?" "Her machines always do need fuel, don''t they? But that''s your problem. And you''re not part of my clientele." "Do you truly think she''ll still need you once she has no equal left to keep her in check? Even Sunburn could be permanently taken down if she has the time and resources to work as she pleases." "You underestimate the Angels. They are not the most educated lot, and the brunt of them are weak muscles only there to fill the ranks and perform menial tasks, but their leaders are far more competent than most of you give them credit for. Sunburn may be their greatest weapon, but the greatest sword held by a poor swordsman is useless." "If you are done praising the entourage of your friend, listen to me. I know you know things about Silhouette. I know you were involved in Runar''s attempts. I want to know what you learned." "For free? I''m not one of your ignorant servants. I despise you, you hypocritical copycat." "He subverted a pair of Siblings." "How impressive, he overcame the mental conditioning of a single entity forcefully split into two that constantly requires to repeat this initial operation to keep their somewhat independent minds. Truly, a shocking turn of events. Shapeshifting flesh or not, you cannot divide a mind like that without consequences. It is far too fragile. Even when combining already existing ones, you need to ensure there is a dominating force to avoid complete chaos. Trust the words of a man used to combine unwilling participants." "I do not need your insights, Patcher. What I need is what you know about Silhouette." "You can guess as to my price." "I could spare some followers..." "No. No, no, no. You know what I want." "I will not part with any of my bees." "Then you will know nothing." The two stayed silent for a long minute before the cult leader spoke once more. "Some of the hives decided to have an early reproductive flight. I could hand you some of the dead drones, I suppose." "Dead drones? Is that all you have to offer?" "Don''t you try. You know I won''t give you anything more." "... How many, then?" "Two or three." "You insult me. I want a hundred, at the very least. I know how many of these insects you have." "That''s out of the question. I won''t part with such a large number, let alone when the queens still have a use for them. Half a dozen." "Make it a full dozen, then." "You are very lucky you are my only option and I cannot touch you. A dozen it is. Now speak." "Tut tut tut, I''ll need a guarantee. Unlike some, I don''t believe your every honeyed word." "I don''t have the time for this, Patcher, I need information now. And I don''t know about you, but I cannot trust the Black Bank any longer. Blake Black has shown too much favor for Silhouette for him to be truly neutral on these matters." "Unlike you, I have all the time I need." "Fine. I swear it on the name of nature itself. Satisfied?" "Biflora, Biflora. We both know better." "Sigh. I solemnly make an oath to the bees, you will have your dozen dead drones if you give me new information in turn." "Hm... Very well, I accept these terms." "Finally. Now. Silhouette." "I am as unaware of his origins as you are. What I do know is what I learned from Runar''s attempts on him. He''s paranoid, but not to a debilitating point. If anything, his fear served him well. Dare I say, it''s what drives him. Fear. Survival instincts." "Fear? Silhouette? The man who is a living shadow who makes a point of scaring or unsettling anyone he interacts with?" "Exactly. You''re a showman as well, you should know how it is. You said it yourself, Silhouette is a shadow, his domain is the darkness, not the light. You found him in the Sunken City, you should already know there is more to him than the public persona." "How do you know about our scouting?" "Because I know you, and because I have my own creatures to do my bidding. That''s why you should realize that, much like a shadow, Silhouette always reacts, he never initiates, he copies. Runar instigated a war with his attacks, Silhouette attacked in turn." "I am no mere rune scribe left to fend for scraps." "Yes, you have more power than Runar did at the time. Silhouette likely won''t try anything for a long time. However, you should keep in mind that he let Runar''s thugs act for a long time before answering in kind. The difference is that when it was his turn to attack, he wiped Runar''s group out in a single assault." "He''s free to try." "Weren''t you the one saying his growth was worrying? That should be cause for concern." "If all you have are threats and reminders of what I already know, it does not count as new information." "I can confirm he has the Transformation Aspect, though I suppose you had your suspicions. I can also tell you his affinity for shadows goes beyond mortal ken." "Elaborate." "He cannot stop it, at least not as Silhouette. Perhaps he can un-power and take on a fully human form, but so far, he is always using darkness. Runar inscribed some runes on one of my creations, and Silhouette couldn''t harm it, no matter how hard he tried." "How was it defeated, then? And Runar, for that matter?" "Runar failed to apply those runes to all of his men, and Silhouette circumvented the problem by borrowing their weapons to harm my Glapissant. It survived the counter though, I knew better than to use a design that could be killed by mere blades. As for Runar himself, the exact circumstances are still a mystery for me, but I would guess Silhouette used the same tactic." "So if I were to create anti-shadow defenses..." "They should protect you from his direct attacks and contact, but not stop him from using his surroundings or your undefended forces against you. Still advisable, considering his ability to infest others. Would that count as new information, then?" "It does. I will send you the drones by the end of the week." "If the corpses are damaged or decomposed, know that this conversation will leak." "As if I expected anything less from you, Patcher. I hope this will be our last encounter." "So would I, were it not for your bees." The madman hung up the phone, ready to continue his gruesome work with the poor soul on the table next to him. A shadow fell over him. Chapter 192 : Monsters After stealthily making his way into the old abandoned hospital and sneaking around the dozens of grotesque monsters that roamed its halls, James followed the instructions of his former Runarian Knight subordinate and successfully reached the operating room the maniac usually stayed in. The presence of a strange creature handing its master an old-timey phone did help confirm his destination, though it was more bothersome than it was worth. James was reluctant to attack the Patcher in the middle of the call, even if it involved him. The point of this operation was to be discreet and make sure no one would suspect Silhouette for what would happen next. Even ignoring the possibility of the Biflora theorizing that Silhouette may be the one interrupting the Patcher''s intel, there was still the risk of him simply calling out for help. So, James waited. He hated it, but he had to. As soon as the Patcher hung up the phone, however, James struck. James leaped from a shadow on the ceiling to become a deadly spike aimed at the madman''s heart, only to harmlessly bounce off his back and land behind him. The elf chuckled as James quickly reshaped himself, launching volleys of spells as he did that all flickered out as soon as they touched their target, a smile on his face as he turned around. Only the monster holding the phone seemed to be panicking at what was happening. "Ah, Silhouette. You''ve left me waiting for quite some time, hm?" James ceased his volley of spells, blatantly useless at present, and tried to reposition himself, quickly rushing towards the door to take care of the monster holding the phone to ensure all lines of communication were cut. "Leaving already? We can''t have that. Glapissant, Kamelot, come here!" James didn''t bother correcting him on his intentions, instead creating bladed tendrils that tore the phone from the pale creature''s enormous hand and crushed it as more limbs tore at the walls to gather materials to fight the two monsters he knew for a fact had been designed to fight him. Sure enough, a few seconds later, a familiar long-necked hound-like beast composed of skinned humans melted together appeared, its scream-like howls filling the air as its main pair of eyes looked at him hatefully. It seemed like it held a grudge for the time he plunged a sword into its skull. Though, looking a little closer, there were some differences with the monster James once fought. It was the same entity without a doubt, but it had undergone a few transformations. The number of spot-like holes of ears, mouths, and even eyes had increased, spreading further than only its torso, and new bony growths ran along its neck, likely a way to fix the damage it endured last time. "You know, Glapissant has been waiting for this moment for so long. It has been on a few odd jobs since you last met, but it only had you in mind. You were the reason for its birth, after all, and its failure to get you has been gnawing at it." James could have given some banter on the fact the monster was likely more scared of its master''s punishment for failure rather than James'' escape, but he wouldn''t give the madman the pleasure of playing into his game. The Patcher clearly was the sort of maniac who enjoyed the negativity of his audience, flourishing in their anger and fear. No, James answered by taking pieces of rubble and crashing together like cymbals on the creature''s head, its bewildered look betraying the fact it hadn''t expected him to fight. An understandable mistake, really. James did spend quite some time running from it during their last encounter. Sadly for it, it wouldn''t happen again. The surprised look and widened eyes of the beast disappeared behind the fragments of cement crushing its head, a discomforting crunching sound and spurts of blood revealing it hadn''t escaped unscathed. With that being said, James was genuinely surprised to see the thing slump forward and collapse on the ground afterward. He had expected some redundant organs and systems to keep it active even with a compromised head, not for it to go down in one hit. Even the elf who made it looked surprised, blinking in disbelief at the fate that belied his creation. "Well, that was disappointing. Perhaps I underestimated the extent of Runar''s influence on it." "You are quick to shift the blame. Have you considered that your abominable work is worthless?" "Oh oh, he speaks! But Silhouette, don''t forget, we have a second guest." Right on cue a new creature entered the room, this one''s yelling closer to a rumbling more felt than heard. The ankylosaurus-like monster was the most down-to-earth design the Patcher had produced from what James had seen, with no stretched, disjointed, or eery anatomy to speak of. If anything, if James didn''t focus too hard, it passed as a realistic reconstitution of the club-tailed dinosaur. Of course, such a pleasant thought quickly died with a deeper analysis. Its color, to begin with. While the specifics of dinosaur coloration were largely a mystery back on Earth bar for the occasional piece of mummified epidermis, James had a feeling ankylosaurus wasn''t an assortment of similar hues of human skin tones and the occasional green. It wasn''t quite as mix-and-matched as some other monsters James got a glimpse of on his way to the operation room. If anything, it was somewhat tasteful, with the lighter tones placed on the underside and in the joints while the green spots were on the head and as stripes on the sides all the way until the end of the tail. Yes, in a vacuum, this would have been a somewhat realistic choice and definitely pleasing choice, ignoring the ivory-yellow color of the armor on its back and its club. Knowing who its maker was ruined any possible doubt as to what it was composed of. There were also its eyes, those were not the eyes of an animal, not even a smart one, but those of a person. Speaking of, there was something familiar about them, and remembering Valker''s report, he had a feeling he knew the reason why. It would also explain the green bits. And again, knowing the Patcher, there were a lot more things that popped out as strange. Odd folds here and there, veins a little too visible, and the skin a little too stretched in some spots, as though it had undergone cosmetic surgery in the past. No doubt, there were even more "fun" surprises hidden in its flesh. James doubted a maniac like him would have simply made a human and orc dinosaur. It was horrible for the victims, but Glapissant had shown the more heavily designed Patchees were more complex than their "mass-produced" counterparts, as mass-produced as monsters composed of transformed victims could be. The creature opened its beak as it spotted the mass of darkness that was James, revealing the human teeth and far too sharp fangs hiding in its mouth. From the glint in its eyes, it appeared to remember him. Something the Patcher found quite amusing judging by its grin. "Silhouette, meet Kamelot. You may be familiar with its core component, Karadok. For as long as I knew him I wanted to experiment with his incredible body, and goodness, was it worth the wait. I have to thank you for that, our contract stipulated I would only get my hands on him when he no longer worked for Runar. Your intervention helped expedite the process. A shame you had to go and ruin his hands, though. I simply couldn''t use them after you corrupted them, it presented far too much risk."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Kamelot walked into the room, shaking the ground with every step, its tail swinging and breaking parts of the entrance as it did so. Its eyes widened when it realized the damage it had caused and it turned to look at the Patcher, worried about his reaction. The elf only shook his head with a sigh before beckoning the creature, encouraging it to continue. No longer fearing the wrath of its maker, the monster roared once more as it charged forward, the act revealing its front legs were closer to the arms of a gorilla than those of a large quadrupedal reptile. Somehow, despite its weight, the ankylosaurus leaped into the air and turned to clobber the retreating James with its clubbed tail. James threw himself onto the ceiling to escape, leaving the fake dinosaur to continue its fall. The Patcher had calmly stepped back, leaving his tables to get closer to the walls and avoid the incoming strike, reaching the edge of the room right as the creature''s body landed on his tables and crushed them, including the unfortunate victim who was being vivisected. James took advantage of the short time it took for the beast to recuperate and gather its wits to attack, powerful tentacles coming down with as much strength as he could muster. The Patcher smiled at the act until he realized the shadowy appendages weren''t aiming at his creation but the floor beneath, the already weakened ground creaking and cracking as it collapsed. Kamelot let out a pained moan as it fell into the newly created pit, only to realize too late that James had used sharper appendages to dig into the plaster ceiling and turn one of the beams inside into a stake. Kamelot cried one last time as it was impaled by a beam as wide as its head right into the mouth, its sharpened tip emerging between its hindlegs. The Patcher looked at his dying creature, trying to understand what had just happened. "Well, that was unexpected. It appears I underestimated the extent of Runar''s influence. Sigh, that man was surely cursed. Seeing all of the talents surrounding him and his own all fail like this almost brings a tear. Still, a beam? It should have survived that." James didn''t bother responding, instead dropping from his spot on the ceiling with dozens of tentacles each holding sharpened bits of rubble, glowing black runes on them. "Ah, I see. You took more from Runar than his business. It must have been insulting for him to see runes be used against him. Ah, a shame to see him go. He had such wonderful talent. Given a few more decades he could have become so much more. Too bad he was a poor leader and planner, not to mention his choice of location. He would have flourished as a subordinate in a bigger city, but his pride wouldn''t let him serve another, and he knew very well he would have been devoured out there." James repeated his attack to kill Glapissant - he brought all of the rubble he gathered together where the Patcher''s head was. He tried to, anyway. James suddenly found himself feeling stabbed by cold all over his body and found his limbs going out of control, merging or being slapped to the ground against his will. He barely caught the silvery glint of the madman''s floating needle entering and exiting him countless times before he found himself forced to be in his Silhouette shape, kneeling on the ground in front of the grinning elf as his instrument returned to his side. "You two are far more similar than you''d think, Silhouette. I do not share this flaw. I know my limits, what I can and cannot do. I am no grand king or bringer of change. No, I am a creative soul who is satisfied living in his little domain away from the frontline, sharing his art with those who bring him new materials. That does not mean I am weak, though." The madman chuckled as his needle flew through his dark body once more, forcing Silhouette''s head to the ground to the point yet somehow preventing James from melting to escape. "How do you think I first sourced my materials, before the gangs and my first successful creations? I had to harvest them myself. And my dear creations! Yes, I know you call them all monsters and abominations, and while I find the choice of words distasteful, I am flabbergasted none of you ever wonder why ''monsters'' would obey me. I am no fool, I am well aware they have no loyalty to their creator, none born out of love or thankfulness that is. No, my selfish and unappreciative projects only obey out of fear. Because they know what I can do." The elf walked away to turn back on the gramophone on the other side of the room, the sound of a waltz returning. "It''s the family gift, we all have a talent for putting things together or taking them apart. There''s a varying degree, of course. My great-grandfather couldn''t make anything for the life of him, but one swing of his axe could cut a mountain in two. I have the luck of being one of the most balanced of the lot, possibly the best of the generation. I can dismantle and reassemble things with much greater precision, though I do lack the range and scale of some of my cousins. Not that I mind." He returned to James, though not before crouching down next to the remains of his tables to pick up his scalpel. "Any old idiot with enough sheer strength can make an ice castle that lasts for centuries. But it takes a genius to create living things, to give them bones of ice and flesh of snow, organs, and veins, to make them live as true creatures and not merely realistically sculpted golems. None in my family could do what I do, not with beings of flesh and bone." "You are a pathetic little man, Patcher." "Oh? Willing to talk again?" "You are no artist. There is no art in what you do. As for your story of equaling nature rather than poorly mimicking it? I saw your work. Bones and organs do not work this way. Without your power, they would all be dead." "Oh, rich words coming from someone with Transformation." "Are you familiar with vitalism, Patcher?" The elf looked taken aback by the shift in the conversation. "What?" "Vitalism. A philosophical current. It is not the origin of the ''more than the sum of its parts'' quote, but it did help popularize it in its time. To roughly summarize, the idea is that a living being is more than the sum of its parts, as evidenced by the fact that if you take a bear, cut it apart, and sew it all back together, the bear won''t magically start living again. Of course, vitalism has its fair share of flaws and isn''t the main focus of my point, but related." "Oh?" "Your work is less than the sum of its parts. You destroy the sanctity of life all in the vain attempt to copy it. Even disregarding the morality of your acts, and only looking at facts, your work is a waste. Look at your Kamelot, and how easily it was defeated. Karadok wouldn''t have fallen so easily. Yes, I defeated him before, and I have grown beyond who I was then, but he still would have proven more of a challenge. If you take a hundred people and transform them into thirty monsters twice as strong as the humans they were before, that is still only equivalent to sixty of those people. Your touch is a net loss. You consider Runar a failure, but at least his influence was a net improvement. So is my touch." The Patcher''s eyelid twitched before he raised a foot and stomped it down onto Silhouette''s head, pressing it even more against the ground as he dug his heel in. "What grand words for someone in your position. A pitiful shade given far too much power for his own good. Only now are you in your rightful place. We will see how your pride fares when I''m done. I pondered for a long time what to make out of you, and I''m starting to think it would be better to use you as material for other projects. As you can see, I can sew you with whatever I wish without an issue." The maniac grinned at James, his malice fully exposed as he leaned down, scalpel in hand. BANG. The elf dropped his tool as he clutched his chest, blood flowing between his gloved fingers. He tried to look down but found himself falling forward, in the middle of James'' black mass that shifted to hold him, restraining his arms and snatching the needle as it too fell. Encompassed by solid shadows, the man''s gaze was drawn to the barrel still aimed at him. "I must thank you for your love of monologue. It still takes too much time to pull off this trick to use reliably in active combat." The elf tried to speak, but the blood pooling in his mouth stopped him. "To answer your curiosity, let''s simply call it shadow teleportation. Chapter 193 : Ding Dong! The Patchers dead
HardCored - Chatroom MagicIsTragic: HOLY **** GUYS! (Mod)Seagullag: Language. MagicIsTragic: SHUT IT YOU STUPID OLD BIRD AND CHECK THE NEWS! KillLaKrill: **** (Mod)Seagullag: Again, language. TechnoGogo: Sig, for real, turn on your TV. This is big. (Mod)Seagullag: Well, darn. JamesIsInTheDark: I''m not a local but this is big, right? Saray: What''s going on, guys? I don''t have a TV nearby. TechnoGogo: You can check the news on your phone, you know. Saray: I barely have enough Internet to use the chatroom right now, let alone an ad-filled newspaper page. MagicIsTragic: THE PATCHER IS ****ING DEAD! Saray: What? The Silence: I concur, what the hell are you saying Magic? KillLaKrill: It''s live everywhere. You know that old hospital he lives in, right? It''s burning. Like, not even Firefighter could save it at this point. Saray: Okay, that''s big, but that doesn''t mean he''s dead. TechnoGogo: You skipped over the biggest part, Krill. The Patcher is impaled on the roof. Saray: He''s WHAT? (Mod)Seagullag: To be fair, I''m not sure that''s him. Given the state he''s in, it''s a little hard to make out. Not to mention I don''t think we''ve had a photo of him in a while. KrillLaKill: He''s a full-blooded elf, the guy hasn''t aged since the last one. But yeah, I have to agree it''s hard to be sure it''s really him with all the blood and missing bits. Saray: Okay, I''m going to need someone to sit down and give me a full description rather than bits and pieces. TechnoGogo: Right, so. The building is on fire, monsters are howling around it - I think they''re celebrating? On the roof, there''s one of those fancy domes, you know, the kind you find on old buildings. There''s a metal bit on it - not a full-on spire, maybe a lightning rod or an old flag pole? Whatever it''s called, there''s a body covered in blood impaled on it. It''s heavily blurred on TV, but if you know where to look online you can see it''s mangled and maimed, unless there''s some special power involved he''s obviously dead. The only thing that''s still intact is the head, and it closely matches the last photo of the Patcher we have, though it''s hard to be sure given... Well... KillLaKrill: Dude looks like he screamed for hours before he finally died. TechnoGogo: Right, that. Every image of the Patcher we have is him smiling, so the anguished look complicates things. The police should have his DNA though, so they should be able to identify the corpse. KillLaKrill: Eh, they could if they did, but I''m not sure they will. You gotta remember this is a no-no zone, or else they would have gotten to him long ago. (Mod)Seagullag: Considering the circumstances, I think the gangs might let them. They''re probably as interested in knowing what''s happening as we are. The Patcher was a big part of a lot of their operations, he might have been one of the city''s best healers when he wasn''t making monsters. With him dead, they''re weakened. They''re going to need new healers to compensate, not to mention they won''t be able to order creatures to fulfill niche tasks anymore. KillLaKrill: Calm down buddy, it''s not like one of the big gangs got done in. (Mod)Seagullag: Yes, it isn''t quite as impactful on their operations in the short term as the disbanding of a contraband ring would be, but long-term? That''s a very different issue. Also, while he wasn''t quite as bombastic and taking center stage as Abrakaboom does, he was still one of the city''s big-name Villains. When was the last time one of the major players got taken out of the board permanently, whether it was a Villain, a Hero, or even a Vigilante? TechnoGogo: Wait, we have big-name Vigilantes in Zalcien? (Mod)Seagullag: None that are Empress or Abrakaboom-level, but yes, we do have a few. One Death and Melody Cat are the most notorious ones, I''d say. MagicIsTragic: While this sounds like a great subject I''d love to get back to soon, RIGHT NOW WE SHOULD FOCUS ON THE FACT THE PATCHER IS DEAD! DEAD! TechnoGogo: Well, it still isn''t confirmed yet. It could be someone else. I mean, Patcher''s whole gimmick is modifying people, who can say he didn''t make a copy of himself to fake his death? MagicIsTragic: Why the hell would he do that? The gangs were already protecting him. TechnoGogo: Maybe he wanted to retire? The Silence: No. This is not a man who stops his atrocities. He had everything he wanted. This is either his bloody corpse, or someone took him against his will and left a decoy. JamesIsInTheDark: Is making copies of people easy around here? TechnoGogo: Nah, it''s expansive. Clones are a thing, but there are tons of laws to make sure to avoid this sort of scenario, and everything needed to make one cost more than most people make in a decade. Surgery would be likelier, hence why maybe he did it. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The Silence: The Patcher doesn''t make people. He makes monsters. Not to mention, a truly successful decoy would require using a full-blooded elf of which there are very few in the city. Any disappearance from this demographic would be noticed. TechnoGogo: Ah, you forgot the Nightsnatcher. Plenty of folks disappeared then, what if someone took advantage of that to snatch some people themselves? KillLaKrill: Isn''t the Union running some tests on the thing''s body to know it ate? MagicIsTragic: Magical rituals, and yes. From what they''ve shared they''re almost done. KillLaKrill: Sounds like they''re taking their time. Do you think they''re delaying it? The thing belongs to Silhouette, and they didn''t seem to like him. MagicIsTragic: Those are complex rituals, ones that likely had to be set up individually for each victim. If anything, they probably hurried. They don''t want to deal with the potential backlash of "stealing" it. Saray: They wouldn''t steal it. MagicIsTragic: Apostrophes, Saray. They''re here for a reason. Back to the main topic, AGAIN, personally, I''d say the ****er''s dead. (Mod)Seagullag: Language, Magic. But yes, I agree this is likely the real deal. It would have been easier to just disfigure or burn the decoy than to go through the trouble of making it so similar. Looking at it right now, it''s clear whoever killed him made sure to preserve the head to make it easier to identify. It would be too obvious if this were a fake, too big of a coincidence. Saray: So... What now? I mean... He''s been a part of the city for so long. What happens with him gone? (Mod)Seagullag: The gangs will likely look for who did it. They needed him. At the same time, they might be forced to lay low for a while until they find a way to fully replace him as a healer and monster seller. TechnoGogo: Can''t they buy more potions from Wicked Witchcraft? MagicIsTragic: You haven''t heard, have you? They''re in a lot of trouble. Abrakaboom hasn''t shown up in a while. Like, he should have been spotted doing something by now. The other big factions are slowly encroaching on their territory. There''s a big chance they''ll no longer exist in a year or two. TechnoGogo: Wait, for real? KillLaKrill: And since they''re the biggest suppliers of potions to the underworld, that will have big consequences, especially with the Patcher no longer being an option. MagicIsTragic: Also, with one of the big three gone, that will topple the current balance. We might see a new big Villain rise or one of the existing ones become the absolute ruler of Zalcien''s criminal side. TechnoGogo: Ok, so the Patcher going out of the picture is an even bigger deal than I thought. Saray: Hopefully the Union will be able to use the chaos to take care of the most dangerous elements. (Mod)Seagullag: I''m not as hopeful as you are. The disappearance of Wicked Witchcraft would leave an opening for plenty of new Villains to pop up and grow, Villains the Union hasn''t adapted to yet. And when they''ll fight to cement their place at the top, I doubt they''ll keep it to the slums. KillLaKrill: So... We''re getting a major Super war soon? Bummer. MagicIsTragic: Bummer? SERIOUSLY? KillLaKrill: Hey, Seagullag told us to be mindful of our language. I am merely respecting our moderating overlords'' wishes. Besides, it''s not like there''s much we can do. I don''t know about the rest of you, but if some dude decides to burst out a death laser, there ain''t much I can do to stop them. TechnoGogo: Since when did you respect moderators? (Mod)Seagullag: He accumulated a lot of strikes. He needs to behave for a few weeks or he risks getting banned for a month. And before anyone accuses me, know he also hangs out in the website''s other chatrooms, so I''m not the only mod he annoyed. JamesIsInTheDark: Wait, there are other chatrooms? KillLaKrill: Dude. (Mod)Seagullag: You''re randomly put into one on your first visit and it becomes your home hub, but you can go back to the main page and visit other ones. I for one am quite happy with our little corner of the Internet. TechnoGogo: Yeah, the others are a little too busy for my taste. But seriously, if a major Super conflict breaks out, what are we gonna do? And Saray, don''t say trust the Union. Saray: I mean, you should, but I know what you mean. As sad as it is to admit, without reinforcements, our local Heroes wouldn''t be enough to handle a large-scale conflict involving all of the city''s underworld. Maybe you should start looking into your neighboring Vigilantes? KillLaKrill: Uh, I''d think you were anti-Vigilante, considering how much you love the Union. Saray: I''d prefer if they were official Heroes, but for the most part they''re still people trying to do the right thing. There are a few bad apples in the lot, though, and even the good ones aren''t necessarily trained properly. Think of it like this: it''s fine to trust your neighbor to help you build and move furniture, maybe some plumbing and electricity work, but you wouldn''t trust them to build an entire house without a professional background, would you? The Silence: Silhouette is an option. JamesIsInTheDark: He''s a Vigilante? The Silence: No, but his trade specializes in self-defense. Given the rising tensions on the horizon, I would not be surprised to learn he and his team are currently preparing new projects, means to keep the mundane citizens safe from the wrath of the mighty. JamesIsInTheDark: Oh, right. KillLaKrill: You know, when you put it like that, doesn''t it sound a little... Weird? Oddly timed? I mean, didn''t Silhouette and Abrakaboom meet just before he went MIA? Saray: Krill, please. Don''t start accusing people. KillLaKrill: Right, sorry, that''s Magic''s job. MagicIsTragic: Hey! TechnoGogo: Honestly, if Silhouette could beat Abrakaboom, I don''t think he would need to be discreet about it. Like, it''d be just as good of a marketing stunt or strategy as trying to concoct a Super conflict, without all of the illegal and morally dubious stuff involved. MagicIsTragic: Yeah, and please, try not to accuse my future boss of being a criminal mastermind. (Mod)Seagullag: Yes, do not throw Villainous accusations around, please. Saray: Oh! Did you get the confirmation? MagicIsTragic: Not yet, but I did get an email to inform me I made it past their first round of selection out of the candidates they already interviewed. I''m feeling good about it! Saray: That''s great! JamesIsInTheDark: Say, I just thought about something... What''s going to happen to all the... Patchees, was it? Like, those were made out of people, right? Are they going to try and help them or... Just... You know, put them down? TechnoGogo: Ah. That. Right. KillLaKrill: Yeah, that''s a good point. Usually, the police and the Union have to put them down since they''re rampaging or attacking on the orders of someone else, but without him keeping them on a leash, who knows how they''re going to behave? I mean, they''re looking relatively passive right now. Sure, they''re chanting and howling, but that''s more celebrating the Patcher''s death than a frenzy. Saray: I think they''ll try to catch and help those they can. TechnoGogo: I mean, sure, but... Look, after everything he''s done, I''m not sure they can be healed. MagicIsTragic: Yeah. I''m not sure what the Patcher did exactly, but it was some form of fleshcrafting. That sort of thing can be reversed, but only if you''re really good and know exactly what you''re doing. As is, even if the Patcher kept records of his victims, I doubt they''ll survive the fire. Not to mention, all of that fleshcrafting fixing only concerns the body. (Mod)Seagullag: These are people who have been taken, tortured, transformed, combined, and turned into monsters. Even if you found a way to turn them back to how they were before, all that they lived through and were forced to do would have broken them. They would still be monsters, just back in humanoid bodies. If anything, it might break them even further. KillLaKrill: Yeesh. The Silence: The Union might not try, but they are not the only group in the city. Many have lost loved ones to the Patcher''s twisted whims. We will try, regardless of what others say.
The chatroom became quiet after that. Chapter 194 : Silhouette and Sam Ring ring. Ring- click. "Yes?" "Boss, we gotta talk." "What is it, Techlord? "Well, the Shadow Commando and I were curious about the mass of monsters that arrived." "And what of Mother Greenheld and the ghosts?" "They''re taking it pretty well, actually. I think they empathize with the whole ''no longer human but still enough personhood to lament the loss of humanity''. The nuns also like having more things to care for and the kids getting new playmates. Guy''s crew is a little more unnerved, but hanging around dead children for so long kind of numbed them to this sort of thing." "Good, very good." "Boss." "Yes, yes, you have your reservations." "I mean, I know what they are, boss. I ain''t telling you to burn them all or whatever. Poor blokes have been through enough already. But you can''t just leave them here forever." "That wasn''t my intention, Techlord. And I believe I already went over our plan." "I wouldn''t quite call that a plan, though." "Why? I went and killed the Patcher, gathered his cooperative creations, put down those too far gone and who risked rampaging, let the living ones take out their feelings on his corpse, looted the place, started a fire, and then gave them instructions to scatter once they were done celebrating. Mischief tracked them, offered them a place to hide and rest while the heat died down, and brought those who accepted to the orphanage." "Boss, I don''t want to act like Decanov and be all pedantic, but those are events, not a plan." "Those were the first steps of the plan. I was pleasantly surprised it went off smoothly." "Boss, not everything is going to go wrong at every turn." "You say that, and yet things could have turned very differently had I not successfully trained my false hammerspace trick. Loathe as I am to say this, that man was stronger than most thought. Had he not been too busy monologuing and thinking about what he could do to me, I would have needed reinforcements." "Couldn''t you have scooped some of the floor and made rock pellets or something?" "Yes, but it wouldn''t have been lethal. It''s impossible to say if the surprise alone would have been enough to interrupt his power. If it didn''t, I would have still been stuck and he would be annoyed." "Eh, fair enough. But that''s why you trained that trick in the first place before going. If you keep thinking about your fights with what-ifs, you''re gonna be plenty busy. Enjoy the wins, boss." "I will keep that in mind. In any case, the plan going forward is simple: we wait for things to calm down and then publicly announce that Shades Of Penumbra is willing to aid anyone trying to support the Patchees and help them recover. Then we start pretending to catch our refuges from the slums to bring them to the city legally and keep our involvement in the death of their tormentor secret." "It''s gonna be suspicious if we''re the only ones who catch them." "That I will concede, hence why we won''t be. We''ll closely monitor any ''rescue'' operation to check if they are truly trustworthy or not, and if they pass we let them catch some of ours as well - should we have any volunteers, that is. They have been robbed of their free will for so long, they need to be allowed to make choices again, both to truly trust us and to start healing." "Yeah, they''re... Not the greatest at making decisions. One of them just stood there for ten minutes when we asked what color of armband it wanted to show it was a guest." "What did it choose?" "We continued distributing them while it thought. The pale one with the big hands picked up a red one and the uncertain one copied it." "Well, at least it still chose. It mimicked another''s choice, but it chose who to imitate. That''s progress." "Yeah, I guess. Gotta say, the pale one feels like it''s gonna be the representative. The others look up to it and it''s among the smartest, let alone that it can somewhat talk." "I am not surprised. From what I''ve gathered, it served as the Patcher''s secretary or equivalent thereof. I will need to take the time and have a proper discussion with it later on." "I''ll tell it. By the way, how are we going to ensure they don''t spill the beans when they are interrogated on how they escaped or what happened?" "We have Mesker on speed dial for a reason." "Having that many magical contracts made can''t be cheap." "He will likely accept to offer a discount for a bulk purchase, but yes, it will be a notable expense. Thankfully our finances are doing well." "Right, I wanted to talk about that." "Looking for an augmentation? I will admit our budget could be stretched a little thin in the short term given our new guests and depending on the number of hires we go with in the end, but that''s possible." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Well, I ain''t going to say no to a raise, but that wasn''t my question. See, I was looking into new stuff to make and sell without gearing up outsiders too much." "Yes, that was part of the reason for our recruitment campaign. Find new inventors and products that would be easier to sell and without the risk of offering malevolent elements means to harm us. I assume you had a revelation?" "Yeah. Remember the Tech Mech?" "Yes, though I do feel the need to remind you I only witnessed a pile of burning and melting scraps I had to extract you from. Larry and Barry are the ones who got to witness it in action. Am I to assume you intend to make a new one? If so, I do hope your idea isn''t to sell them. While it suffered a terrible fate against a frightful foe, our friends were quite vocal about its effectiveness in combat." "Well, kinda. I do want to make a Tech Mech Mk2, but that''s on hold for now. No, what I wanted to do was make smaller civilian-graded mechs and exoskeletons. We can sell them as tools to help with menial tasks and help folks with partial paralysis and the like." "I see... While I''m not opposed to the idea, wouldn''t available medical procedures and the boosted strength of Cored individuals, even without the Body Aspect, be cheaper than producing let alone buying such a thing?" "Cores without a dedicated strength-related power don''t make that big of a difference in stuff like construction. As for the medical bit, you''re underestimating the bills and overestimating how effective treatments can be. Trust me, they will find their audience." "Well, I trust you to know what you''re doing. Though to be frank, you seem quite knowledgeable on what is typical in Zalcien for someone who grew up in the slums." "Which is exactly why I''m well aware. Not everyone in the slums is there because it''s their birthplace. Many come looking for help when they''re desperate enough, knowing whatever they buy will be flawed and potentially dangerous but at least available to them. Many are forced to stay." "I see..." "Also, I asked Nanyet to set up our website to have a suggestion box of sorts, to see what our clientele is interested to see next. It''s one of the most recurrent asks." "I didn''t take you for the kind to check customers'' mail." "I asked Nanyet to set up an algorithm to manage it while they were at it, I only get keywords and the number of times they came up." "Wonderful." "I''m surprised you don''t use it. I figured you would be checking on it at all times to know what people want." "Techlord, I just finished handling one of the most infamous characters in Zalcien. I am also working on hiring new members for the creative and production teams and checking their respective portfolios while also preparing the same for the administrative staff which will happen soon. Pardon me if I do not have the time to check our website aside from our reviews." "I''m just saying. I''m glad you''re getting fresh meat to handle the day-to-day stuff so I can go back to proper projects, but maybe you could look into what people already say they want while you''re at it?" "Yes, yes. But need I remind you that you are part of the group tasked with overseeing these interviews? Those are the sort of concerns that would have been worth bringing up earlier, no?" "Ah. Right. Yeah. Sorry boss." "Let us agree that we both were too swamped with work to remember to make use of that little detail, alright?" "I can get behind that. So, what do I tell everyone about the Patchees? Do we have a set schedule or...?" "I''m afraid not. We will have to wait and see how the situation develops. I don''t expect this cohabitation to last more than a month at the most if you want to reassure them." "Alright, I''ll tell them that. They should be able to handle it." "Oh, I have no doubt they will adapt. They have gotten used to obeying me and living in an old haunted orphanage guarded by an undead arboreal spirit, not to mention they quickly welcomed Techlord Junior. And let us not speak of George''s oddities. No, I know they will soon see the Patchees as what they are: people who need help, finally free from the abuser who pushed them to commit horrid acts." "Eh, you''re not wrong. When you put it like that, we do sound like a bunch of weirdos." "And that is our strength. Speaking of, how is Junior doing?" "They''re taking the Patchees in like a champ. I think it''s like the ghosts in the way, they remind them of themself. It''s just that Junior identifies more as an entity made of bits and bobs than the former human aspect of the story. Either way, they get what it feels like to be awkward in their own body and be unpleasant to witness for the common man." "Good for them. You know, perhaps you could take inspiration from your own work on this and consider making armor or suits to help the more unfortunate ones? Having their own Techsuit helped Junior tremendously, did it not?" "You know I have tons of work, boss." "Of course, that was merely a suggestion. Besides, I doubt this armor would find much use for long unless some of them decide to become full members of Shades Of Penumbra." "Are they aware it''s a possibility?" "I believe I already broached the topic to the pale one, but feel free to remind them. On that matter, I hope they settle on proper identities soon. Simply calling it ''the pale one'' feels off." "Yeah, I''ll try to ask again. Some are asking for more stuff to wear, so it does look like they''re getting better on that front." "Good, good. Once it starts happening, I trust you to arrange for a list to be made and sent to me." "Can I just pass it off to one of your clones?" "Have Guy take care of it and instruct him to share it periodically with your local clone, yes." "Aye, I can do that. Say, boss, there''s one more thing I wanted to ask..." "Go ahead, Techlord." "It''s, uh... It''s about Junior. I wanted to ask your opinion." "On what, exactly?" "Look, while we don''t talk about it with all the newcomers, me and the Commando we remember the rats. And I''m not talking about Mischief." "I appreciate your understanding of privacy. Do note that seniority is not the only criterion, though." "Yeah, Guy''s been around for a while now and I ain''t trusting him with everything either." "Precisely." "Right. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you not as an employee to his employer or inventor and patron, but father to father." "Ah, I see. You''re worried about what to do with Techlord Junior." "I''m not stupid or naive. They''re not a regular kid. I''m not a regular dad either, but I wouldn''t be the first my age to raise a child. But them? The way they were born? What they''re made of? I don''t think they''ll ever be a regular person. I don''t think they''ll ever feel right at school. At the same time, I don''t want to just keep them hidden underground forever. I want them to have a life." "I understand. Our situations aren''t quite the same, though. My children aren''t human either, but intellectually they might as well be. Aside from their bodies and some instincts, they might as well be regular children born and raised in the slums. Techlord Junoir on the other hand... Mesker would likely be better suited to tell you whether they''ll be able to grow or not. Either way, they wouldn''t be the only like this. Yes, their origins are unique, but some individuals being born with intellectual disabilities aren''t quite as rare as you''d think. Perhaps you could look into this sort of thing? There are likely differences between a sapient mind with disabilities and a creature born from a hazardous mix of materials and magic, but perhaps you could learn a thing or two?" "... Yeah. Thanks for that, boss." "It''s no problem, Techlord. If you wish, I could help you look into it when I have some free time. Right now school is about to end and I''d like to go " "I get it, boss. And, you know, when it''s just the two of us, you can calm Sam." "With pleasure, Sam." Chapter 195 : End of the first day of school "-and this, children, is why you should always respect wildlife and hazardous materials laws. I know, I know, it may seem unfair to treat what could be beloved family pets this way, but you need permits for a reason. Both for their sake and yours." The blonde twin-tailed girl looked a little dissatisfied at Mister Pteryx''s answer, but nodded nonetheless. It was blatantly obvious to all in the classroom her family likely had one such unique and potentially dangerous creature at home without the proper permits, but none of the students would think to tattle on her. As for their teacher, he simply made sure to remember to have a short discussion with her parents soon. He didn''t want to cause her stress but incidents like the Horror and the Old Zalcien''s fall were perfect examples as to why these laws were in place. He was willing to turn a blind eye to something innocent enough like a domestic raccoon or affective slum-born monster, but anything endangered or too likely to cause harm would need a call. However, he had to admit these permits were unnecessarily complicated to obtain in Zalcien compared to other cities in the ACS, likely in part due to their history. "Now, does anyone else- ah, apologies. This could be important." The teacher took out his vibrating phone from one of his jacket''s pockets to check his notification. He had warned his class in the past that he didn''t mind them doing the same thing so long as it wasn''t disruptive and limited to important matters, such as news sources or loved ones'' numbers. Of course, no one could know whether a friend''s text was about a plan for a party or the announcement of a death in the family without reading it first, but that was worth letting his students be aware and available in case of emergencies. As for the news, well, today was the perfect display of why it was important, given he could hear quite several other phones in the room vibrate as well. His eyes widened as he read what was on his screen, and when he put his phone back he could see many of his students having a similar reaction. "Well. I think this is something worth interrupting our last hour exchange for. For those in the room still unaware, the Hero Union has just released a statement confirming the death of the Patcher. I have a feeling there will be fewer people experiencing nightmares in the city tonight. So long as they didn''t see the pictures, that is." In the back, an orc girl and her new short rat friend grinned with far too much bloodlust for kids their age. "Those were some nice pics" "Yeah, you can tell they had fun." Pteryx sighed. "Please refrain from enjoying gruesome images, or at the very least sharing those with the rest of the class. However, I do wonder how you found the uncensored ones." The pair shrugged simultaneously as they leaned back in their seats. "Didn''t plan to, teach. The others get all queasy and stuff, and puke ain''t nice." "Also, didn''t you imply you saw the OGs too? They ain''t that hard to find. That''s stuff been going on for hours." "Yeah, that too. The Union saying it''s true is nice, but everyone''s been screaming the Patcher''s dead for a while now." The teacher scoffed. "Unlike some, the publicly available blurry versions are enough for me. As for the duration of this situation, please note it is perfectly normal. In fact, it is preferable. You should never fully trust news or images that weren''t authenticated by reliable sources. Misinformation and disinformation are both traps you should always try to avoid." The man clapped his hands together. "With that said, I believe we should have a discussion about the situation now that it has been confirmed. The death of such a major figure in the city is a rare event, one that will likely feature in history books soon, and I would like to learn your point of view on the matter while we''re experiencing it. So? Would anyone like to say or ask something?" Amelia, a human girl in black and violet clothes that featured quite the comical number of spikes, grunted as she leaned back in her seat, catching the eye of her new rodent friend. "Good riddance." The teacher smiled. "Yes, I understand the feeling. I doubt anyone in this room is sad to see him go. But would you like to elaborate? Maybe share your opinion on the circumstances?" "What is there to say? Dude got what he deserved. If anything I think he got off easy after everything he''s done. He should have been burning alive, not just shish-kebabed." Next to her, Goliath tilted his head. "What would it have changed?" The emo girl looked surprised at that, unsure how to respond. "I mean... Like, you know what he''s done, right?" "Yes, he hurt a lot of people. Now they hurt him back and he won''t hurt anyone anymore. Isn''t that enough?" The girl looked down at Goliath, mouthing something yet making no noise. Mister Pteryx, for his part, had no trouble speaking his mind. "That''s an interesting take, Goliath. I personally would have preferred for the Patcher to be brought to justice. Say, class, who among you agree with Goliath that what he went through was enough?" Roughly a third of the students raised their hands, including one rat with a thunderbolt-like tail. "Who thinks he deserved worse?" Another third did. David and his new orc friend Lyra joined this time, but it should be noted that this group wasn''t only composed of bloodthirsty individuals. The usually friendly and laidback skateboarder Bruce had an unusually serious expression as he put his arm in the air. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "Who thinks he should have been captured and judged?" It was the last third''s turn, a stern rat with sharp fur among them, alongside her human desk neighbor. Notably, some hadn''t raised their hand at all, like the albino rodent sitting next to a sea serpent sirene. "Ah, a roughly even split I see. For those among you who didn''t vote, I''d like to know why. Blanche, would you like to share? You don''t have to, of course, but as a new student I''d like to see your point of view." "Oh, it is no trouble. Well, the way I see things, this dreadful man has been taken care of. Does the way it happened really matter? It''s one less piece of rubbish in the city either way." "So you are happy he was taken care of, but do not care about the circumstances?" "Well, I would have more of an opinion if the means involved had been more drastic, if a large civilian area had been put at risk for instance, but as is the only person who was hurt was him and the area''s damaged ruins that barely stood." "Hm. So you only care that he was taken care of without putting anyone else at risk?" "Exactly, teacher." "Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Blanche. So, what does everyone take away from this?" A girl with a crocodile head spoke. "That everyone thinks differently!" "Yes, that is correct, but not what I meant. Alright, I''ll help you. Let''s do another vote: who here would value the way the Patcher was dealt with over the fact he was? In other words, who wished the Patcher had not been dealt with if it wasn''t through their preferred method?" Only a handful of arms were raised this time, surprising quite a few of the other children. "See, this is what meant. While you may disagree with the method, the vast majority of you deem it was worth it nonetheless. That''s something I want you to remember. I want you to remember that while you may and will often disagree on how things should be done, you will often still agree that things should be done regardless. Learning to compromise is a very important skill that sadly even many adults lack." The teacher sat on his desk. "I don''t want you to dismiss those who just raised their hands, though. People have principles, and those willing to hold onto them until the very end are worthy of respect. Yes, sometimes this attachment can get in the way, and that''s why I personally disagree with such stubbornness. But dismissing them outright only alienates them and creates resentment. You need to learn to compose with those people. Give them tasks that benefit from those principles. Someone who cares about the law more than anything can make, as you expect, good law enforcement, with the caveat that some people do break the law for good reasons." Mister Pteryx crossed his legs. "Of course, as a teacher, I need to tell you that breaking the law is bad. That doesn''t change the fact that for some people stealing basic food supplies is a necessity, because they simply do not have the means to buy them otherwise. In such a situation, those with absolutely unbending beliefs would punish them all the same, whereas someone with a more flexible sense of justice would be willing to let them go with only a warning or even turn a blind eye. This Patcher situation is another expression of this scenario: the murder of a man is a crime, but does anyone want to see the culprit punished given the identity of the victim?" Some nodded, others stayed silent as they thought about their teacher''s words. Even among those who had raised their hand when asked if they would have preferred nothing to be done rather than for the situation to go against their beliefs some turned introspective. "Don''t worry if you can''t come up with an answer. As I said, those are topics even adults struggle with. It''s entirely possible you won''t figure it out for years, if ever, or until such a situation directly involves you. It is better to say you do not know than to pretend and fight for something you are uncertain of and doubt." The man got back up and adjusted his green dinosaur tie. "With all that said, there is something else I''d like to talk about, if no one else wants to say anything on this topic. We mentioned the event itself and our respective feelings, and this last point somewhat addresses this next issue, so let me present it more bluntly. What now?" Lucille raised her paw and waited until Mister Pteryx nodded before speaking. "The Hero Union and the police will continue their investigation to discover what happened. Depending on what they find, if someone other than the Patcher''s creatures was involved in his demise, they will likely try to identify them. Then, if they do discover their identity, there will likely be a trial. At that point, the most probable option is for public opinion to influence the verdict and decide whether the culprit will be sentenced or not. Given the victim''s reputation and extrapolating from what we saw in this room, the public will support the killer to the point they may receive a light sentence, be declared innocent, or be pardoned depending on how the court is handled." The teacher nodded along to her affirmation. "Yes, I agree, that is the most likely outcome should they find a third party was involved and successfully catch them. But that wasn''t quite what I had in mind. Tell me, how do you think the gangs and Villains will react? While unpopular, the Patcher played an important part in many of their schemes. Without him there to patch up their troops, their operations will be affected." "I suppose they would either need to become more careful to avoid damage or oppositely to become more reckless to gain more and compensate. There will likely also be a rush for new healers among their ranks, whether willing or not. As for the investigation, many might choose to let the police work or perhaps even aid them, to know who is responsible, whether for revenge, recruitment, or simply identifying a potentially dangerous individual." "Interesting deduction, though some might consider it a little broad. Not that I disagree, but what would you say is the more likely outcome? Peace or chaos?" "Chaos. Even if the majority chooses to hide, a few rogue elements who feel they have nothing to lose are enough to disrupt the current status quo. They will not be able to last long with such a strategy, though. Sooner or later we will achieve a new status quo, one that will be defined by how much they can achieve and if they can find a reliable replacement for healing." "I see. You know the routine by now, who agrees we will likely see a period of restlessness?" Again, a third of the students raised their hands. Another did the same when asked if they thought they would instead experience quiet times, and the rest raised theirs when asked who couldn''t decide either way. A few more short exchanges on the topic followed until Timothy, the human boy seated next to Lucille, launched a new debate. "But what about the Patchees? What will be done with them?" The classroom exploded in shouts until Mister Pteryx managed to calm them down and return to a more structured discussion. Some, like Bruce, Goliath, and the gloomy Amelia, all argued the Patchees should be helped and returned to their families, healed back to their former forms if possible, and offered free psychiatric help either way. Others, like Blanche, her sirene deskmate Christie, and Foudre, argued that at this point these creatures being put down would be a mercy to the people they used to be. The rest, including Lucille, Timothy, and David, felt it was best to let professionals be the ones to debate and decide on this matter, much better suited and informed on these matters. The smallest of the ratlings and his stern sister both had adorably annoyed expressions when they realized they agreed. The debate continued until the harmonious bell rang, signaling the end of the class and school as a whole for the day. Mister Pteryx thanked his class for behaving and reminded them to accept others could have different opinions before sending them off, giving his new students some additional material to catch up on for the next day to help them better understand the day''s lesson. The five little rodents bid farewell to their friends as they headed off, delighted to see a familiar shadow man waving at them on the street. They rushed to see him and leaped into his arms, squealing and squeaking in joy. "Daddy!" "Papa!" "I''m happy to see you too, kids. How was your day?" "It was great! We all made new friends, Dad." "Mister Pteryx was also a very charming and informative instructor, Father." "Really? I can''t wait to hear all about it. And David, what about you?" "Met a fun orc. No one needed a mauling yet." "Splendid. Now let''s go home, I don''t know about you but I''m exhausted." The children happily followed their father, though Lucille and David looked at each other at his last remark. They already had an inkling beforehand, but now both had a pretty good feeling he was responsible for today''s events. Chapter 196 : Fire and water Dressed in his iconic red and blue suit with yellow gauntlets, helmet, and belt, Firefighter crouched a little lower to check on an odd pattern he noticed on the calcined wall before him. Given the state the building was in before it went up in flames it was entirely possible this was inconsequential, but he would be very bad at his job if he dismissed anything based on prejudice. Contrary to popular belief, fires didn''t perfectly erase all evidence - rather, they altered everything to the point of being muddled. Even the best forensics specialized in this field would be forced to say they couldn''t discern the truth sometimes. It was an important part of the job: knowing how to successfully discern the truth with very little and knowing when to admit you couldn''t know. "Find anything?" He didn''t turn to face his interlocutor, rather he took a few more seconds of observation and some light scratching of the spot before standing back up and addressing the regular forensic. "Burnt mold." "Uh. You know, I always figured the madman''s place would be a horror set, but I never registered it was also his home. I mean, I knew, but the dots didn''t connect, you know?" The Hero grunted his affirmation - someone else may have offended, but since he was one of the few Heroes who stuck around after the brunt of the action was over, others whose job it was to handle the aftermath too had gotten used to him. Case in point, he''d been the one putting out the fire and doing damage control until the others arrived. "Like, sure, being burnt didn''t help, but from what''s left it''s clear the place was always a dump. It feels kind of pathetic." "You have to remember he wasn''t alone. Most of the hospital was occupied by Patchees, so why bother giving them nice things? We haven''t gotten to his quarters yet, and something tells me those will be in much better condition." "Right, right. It''s just... This place was always taboo, the stuff of nightmares. To actually be standing here, knowing he''s dead, it kinda kills the myth." "That''s a good thing. At the end of the day, he was just a man." Despite his calm exterior, Doug himself was still digesting the fact they were currently standing in the ruins of the Patcher''s base. The criminal had been around for almost as long as the new Zalcien, and Doug''s non-Super colleague was right to say the place was almost legendary. The Union had wanted to get their hands on this monster for the longest time, only held back by the various threats of the entire criminal underworld and the terrible failures of past attempts. To suddenly learn someone else had succeeded and killed him was... Well, he couldn''t deny there was a widespread sentiment of some light resentment, that someone else had done it where they failed, not to mention the complete lack of care for the law and the brutal way he died, but the vast majority of Zalcien was celebrating, and that included the Heroes. Even Saline had been spotted drinking some of the champagne she kept for great occasions. All that said, they needed to figure out what happened. If not for the public, then... "Uh, Firefighter? I... I think we may have a problem." The Hero went to see what his colleague had spotted, forcing him to walk back outside, and while it made him tense he wasn''t overly surprised. It was only a matter of time. Seated on a crate that hadn''t been there when they arrived was a very infamous cyborg. A sleek yet spiky black robotic body with an orange glow coming out of the many holes on its surface, too thin to fit a normal man, topped by a pale human head with a dark gray buzzcut and a metal gasmask over the lower half of his face. Said mask also had a mechanism that let a straw in, the other end of it currently in a bottle of a famous Draskian drink that had been made illegal following several incidents of melted throats. The cyborg took a sip and watched them calmly with his cold blue eyes, as though he wasn''t one of the city''s biggest Villains on the scene of a crime in front of a Hero. The man accompanying Doug began to take out his weapon only to be stopped by the Hero''s hand grabbing his arm. "That won''t be necessary. Go back inside, use the radio." The man nodded before rushing back in, leaving the two Supers alone. The Blood Angel Villain finished his drink, picking up the empty bottle and incinerating it in a flash, reducing it to ashes in a fraction of a second. His trash dealt with, he began to speak, his Draskian accent clear as ever. "Long time no see, Firefighter." "Not enough for my taste, Sunburn. Let me guess, Marcus wanted his pyrotechnics expert to check the scene to try and figure out what happened." "Yup. Even if I repeatedly reminded him my thing is starting fires, not checking the wreckage. He didn''t take the news of what happened to our partner very well. Moonfreeze was still handling him while grunts cleaned up the blood when I left. And when I arrived, who did I spot? The Union''s number one fire handler and the usual crime scene guys." "I shouldn''t be a surprise, your people let us through." "Your territory map isn''t up to date, but yeah, I knew. Well, the brat knew and told me. She and I agree that it''s worth letting you come." Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. "So you''ve been waiting for me to finish and tell you what I know?" "Ah! No. You and I both know you wouldn''t say a thing. I''ll do my own investigation when you''re done, even if I don''t expect to learn much. No, I''m here for protection, funnily enough." The Hero narrowed his eyes behind his helmet. "The Union doesn''t need your help." "The Union, sure. But those Coreless buddies of yours? I already had to take care of a few packs of Sicklers. The gangs may have implicitly agreed to let you do your thing, but the same doesn''t go for the monsters. Wouldn''t want one of the Patcher''s leftovers to harm your pals now, would you? Not to mention the possibility of our mysterious killer coming back to erase evidence and take out those who already know too much." "What do you get out of this?" "Me? Nothing. I don''t care. Moonfreeze and Marcus? The reassurance that your little stunt goes well and you can focus on your job." "You''re planning to steal information, aren''t you?" "Stealing files, bribing folks. End result is, you do your job, we know who did it, and we take the matter into our own hands." "We could always drop the investigation. You get nothing then. It wouldn''t be the first crime to go unpunished in these parts." "Ah. As if Saline didn''t want to know who had the means to sneak in and the guts to do the deed. Not to mention, we educated few know the Patcher didn''t go down like that. Monster at his side or not, there would have been a fight, and your average hired muscle would have been done in seconds. We all know this is either a new player in town or one of the existing big boys decided to shake the status quo." Doug hated that he was right. They couldn''t afford not to know who was responsible for the Patcher''s death, or else they ran the risk of being blind to the presence of an unknown Super. If this person truly existed, they needed to know who they were and what was their agenda. Killing the Patcher while going against the law would be a sign they were anti-villain, but that could just be a way to garner the public''s favor. Not to mention, Vigilantes were criminals for a reason. Even if they did mean well, they didn''t have the proper training. There was always the risk of things going wrong, as well as some Vigilantes who didn''t care about casualties so long as they reached their goal. "So, you decided to show yourself to mock me?" "If you truly believe that, then you have more ego than I thought. We''re talking right now so that you don''t take my presence as an attempt at an ambush, and to clarify to every observer why I''m here. You''d be surprised how many people thought I was the one who did it." "Hmf. As if you would leave this much intact." From the twinkle in the man''s pale blue eyes, he found the phrase amusing. Perhaps he would have smiled behind his mask, had he still had lips. "So, who''s here so far?" "You won''t tell me anything yet you expect me not to return the sentiment?" "If it means throwing your opponents and competition under the bus, yes." "Well, a little birdie or two should be enough to let you know Black is watching." "That isn''t a surprise. The Patcher may not have been his client, but his disappearance still impacts his business. I suspect we will soon see a rush of loans to pay off medical debts amongst you lot." "That I agree. What I find suspicious is that from what our eyes and ears gathered, there were even more birds before the place burst into flames." Doug narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting Blake Black is the one who killed the Patcher?" The cyborg shrugged. "Do I think he''s the one who did it? No. It doesn''t match his personality and the Black Bank''s code wouldn''t allow it anyway. But he knew what was about to happen, or had a good guess. If he doesn''t have ties with the killer, he has information on them at the very least." "That''s good to know. He won''t tell us a thing and surveying his business isn''t worth attempting, but that''s still something." "I knew you would appreciate it. Aside from that, we have the usual bots, scrying, homunculi, pets, curious idiots, and the like. Nothing that stands out like the crows." The Hero nodded. He might not like the situation, but if he was stuck entertaining a Villain''s schemes, he might as well get as much as he could out of it. "While I have you, I always wondered. Why did he like you so much? Moonfreeze and Marcus I can get, they''re just as twisted as he was, just in different ways, but you? You do not kill or torture for pleasure. You do it as a job. You didn''t care about him one bit." "I suppose he appreciated that I actually bothered to show up. Grunts are too scared to stick around for long and other big shots were either too busy to handle it themselves or just did it by phone." "It makes sense, even if it doesn''t seem like much." The Draskian grunted as he looked up into the sky, pondering the question a little further. "If you really want to dig deep, there''s also the possibility he didn''t see me as a walking mass of materials but a real person. Not enough meat left for that kind of stuff. There''s also how I didn''t care much about what he was doing. Marcus just likes to kill. Moonfreeze appreciated playing with prey like that but found breaking them into proper obedient beasts a killjoy. Most of his other customers either fit in one of those categories or found his work horrifying though useful." The Hero harrumphed. "I subscribe to the cyborg bit. That man loved traumatizing others too much to care for someone not reacting, if anything it''d make you boring." "I wasn''t in his head, and I like it that way." "On that, we can agree." Picturing either Sunburn with the madman''s personality or the Patcher with Sunburn''s powers... Neither would have ended well for the city. If there was one good thing about the current strongest Villain in Zalcien, it was that his professional behavior led to far fewer damages and casualties than weaker unhinged Villains. Sunburn saw civilians as hostages, and for better or worse it worked in everyone''s favor. The cyborg stood up and rolled his shoulders. "Alright, that''s enough playing nice for today. Any longer and people might think I''m getting soft, or your friends might think you''re corrupt." "They know better either way." The Draskian chuckled. "Ah, they better. Until next time, though I won''t be far. Tell your Hero friends to play nice." "Hopefully you''ll drop dead before we see each other again." "You wish. You''ll have to drown me yourself." "I will if I must." The cyborg chuckled one last time before stomping down, creating a firey blast beneath his feet that sent him flying a few buildings away. He wasn''t truly leaving, he had made that clear, but Doug couldn''t deny he felt better not having him in his sight. When he came back inside, he was asked the expected question. "I didn''t hear fighting. Didn''t you fight?" "It wouldn''t be worth it. We''re in their territory, not the other way around. Besides, it would risk compromising the scene, and neither of us wanted that." "So it wasn''t because he was stronger than you?" "If I thought you or any of the others were in danger, I wouldn''t have hesitated. As is? It would have put us in unnecessary danger." "Uh." "Now come on, we have more grounds to cover. Go ahead, I''ll call the others and update them on the situation. We wouldn''t want Mecha Man to drop some new big toy and destroy everything before we''re done checking." "Yes sir!" This was going to be a long day. Chapter 197 : Vanille in the slums Inspector Vanille was not having a good day. With the Nightsnatcher case almost closed and only further research into the number of victims left to do, the higher-ups had the bright idea to give her a new major case. Under normal circumstances, perhaps she would have been flattered, even honored, to be given such a chance. The issue at hand here was the victim and the circumstances of the crime. They had more evidence than they did for the Nightsnatcher, but it didn''t help much considering what it was. And, while she understood the Hero Union''s need to identify who did the deed, if it was up to her the Patcher''s case would have already been dropped. What little evidence she got from the people on the scene near the heart of the slums brought her to the Black Border, accompanied by a heavier guard than usual to accommodate the distrust and aversion of the locals for law enforcement. She couldn''t fault them, and frankly, she had a feeling the majority would have been smart enough not to antagonize the giant bipedal lizard taller than most with a gun anyway. At least Cooper was here as well and had brought enough coffee to keep her wide awake and active despite the cold. Not that it helped in the current situation. "Have you scheduled an appointment? Otherwise, meeting with Master Blake will be impossible. If you wish to open an account, you can go through the necessary procedures here." She felt her eyelid twitch and her claws digging into her metallic thermos. "Again, I am here on official Zalcian Police Department business. Not to open an account. We believe Blake Black may have information relevant to a case, and we would like to talk to him." "This would go against company policy. The privacy of our clients and customers is one of our priorities. We are fully operating within the purview of the law in this matter." Inspector Vanille knew she didn''t have the best tamper. With that being said, she pictured herself more as a grumpy woman than one of those who snapped over nothing and let their anger drive their every action. And yet, every second that passed in this stupidly ornate room with her standing on the hide of a dragon she was certain had been poached, talking to this wall of an entity, her desire to just grab the celestial by the shoulders and shake it grew stronger and stronger. Decorum, morals, and sheer common sense realizing it would end very poorly held her back, but she had a feeling she would need either a visit to the spa or the gym''s punching bag. Perhaps both. "To our knowledge, this case doesn''t involve a Black Bank client or customer." For the first time since they had arrived, she caught the toga-wearing lanky humanoid before her moving. Merely a slight tilt of the head, but that was far more than it had previously displayed. Even the halo of flowing mercury floating above its blank head slightly sped up for a second, a detail that may have escaped her were it not for her annoyance boosting her predatory instincts. "Elaborate." "I am investigating the death of the Patcher, and witnesses place your employer''s pets at the scene. We want to know if he saw anything." "You have no right to force a meeting. You have no scheduled appointment. If you are not here for business, then I ask you to leave." "Look, can you at least tell your boss we''re here? Has it crossed your mind that perhaps he wanted to talk?" "If Master Blake wished to discuss with the police, he would be the one approaching you." "Ah, apologies, wait just a moment Nanyet." Vanille had a feeling she knew whose choice had just echoed, and sure enough, emerging from behind the Celestial that was far too thin to have been hiding him along came Blake Black. The charming smile sent her way left her feeling nothing, well accustomed to the empty cordiality that folks like him liked to use. It was a better mask than a cashier''s, but far from as effective as the man likely wished it to be. "Mister Black. I''ve been trying to see you." "Yes, I gathered. Please forgive Nanyet, as a Celestial they put far more emphasis on rules than needed. Why, not even I could walk in for a meeting with myself without an appointment!" He kept his happy little welcoming facade up even when faced with her deadpanned expression. "Such a witty remark. Regardless, I''m here to ask you a few questions. I believe you''ve been listening in and are already aware about what." "Me? Listening in? What could have given you such an idea?" "Alright, I guess we''re doing this. Blake Black, we have reason to believe you have information regarding the death of the Patcher. A large flock of crows-" "A murder. It is called a murder of crows." "-fine, a large murder of crows was sighted amassing around the abandoned hospital before it began to burn. We would like you to share what you know." "Well, I must ask, how can you be certain those were my pets and not wild specimens?" "Because no other bird would dare approach this cursed place otherwise. Only your pets feel safe doing those sorts of antics because they know people don''t dare touch them." Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "Ah. No one dares harm those majestic birds out of fear of the repercussions for harming one of mine, that is true, but since they cannot differentiate between domestic and wild specimens, that applies to all crows in Zalcien. Even if they were my pets, they could have simply been attracted by the carrion, not investigating on my orders." Inspector Vanille breathed in. "Black. Please. Cut the nonsense. We know those birds spy for you. Even if they truly were there per pure chance, they still saw something and told you about it." "Ah, while crows can speak, it is merely mimicry, like a parrot. Mine are mundane, not Cored, they lack the ability for proper dialogue." "Black. Again. We''re not here for you, or one of your clients. We''re here to know what happened, not discuss the logistics of how your birds report. Tell us what you''ve learned and we''ll be out of your hair. Don''t you want this case to be closed? Once the truth comes out, it should help quell some of the chaos, something that would benefit your business." "You underestimate the money chaos and violence make. With that said, you''re not wrong to say that closing this case sooner rather than later would benefit me." "So? Will you help us?" "Well, you see, if I did have information on what happened to our resident flesh-crafting maniac, I wouldn''t be able to share it. It would set a precedent. While I am contractually obligated not to betray my clients'' trust, telling you that this clause is what''s stopping me would already be information. And if I tell you something now and don''t later or on another case, then you''ll know once again that a client is involved." "So, you won''t tell us anything because telling us something even once would make future incidents incriminate your clients if you stay quiet?" "Precisely. I do apologize for the trouble it causes you, but I have to do what''s best for the Bank. And, between the two of us..." Inspector Vanille spared a glance at the Celestial in the room as well as the other cops accompanying her as the branch manager continued. "Does this case really need to be solved? It needs to be closed, for certain, but I think you would agree whoever our mysterious killer is they did the city a great service." "Taking sides, Black? I thought the bank was all about neutrality. Not to mention we know he made use of your services." "I can respect my vows while still having opinions. Contrary to popular belief, I too want to see this city flourish. There isn''t much to gain from harvesting the same old decomposing corpse." She clicked her tongue. "Some of my colleagues would have punched you for that one." "And your superiors would have gone into doubt to reimburse me. They made the right choice sending you, Inspector Vanille." "I didn''t tell you my name, Black." "No, you didn''t." The two stared at each other in silence for a dozen seconds before the tall lizard woman scoffed." "We''re leaving. Good day to you, Black." "Oh? Not trying to threaten me with a warrant?" "We both know I wouldn''t get it. Not for you." "Tragic. In a gesture of good faith, there is one thing I can tell you." "Um?" "The one who took the Patcher''s life was one of his creations." "Thank you for the tip. Goodbye, Black." "Good luck, Inspector. You''ll need it." With the size of the room, it took some time for the woman and her group to leave under the gaze of the human man and his Celestial assistant. When the two were left alone, after a brief flash of light to burn away all the bugging devices that had been left behind, the taller of the two addressed the shorter one. "Was this truly wise, Master Black?" "I give them something, they stop bugging us. How many, by the way?" "Four." "Oh, less than last time. Maybe they already have budget problems." "Or they did not feel the need to use more on an investigation that does not concern you." "Ah, that too. But yes, I gave them something they probably already figured out themselves, nothing truly important. Though I will admit I was tempted to share that the responsible party had no nefarious intent." "This would have eliminated a large number of Villains from the list of suspects. It would have revealed too much. It is a miracle you held your tongue rather than indulge in your love of monologuing for once." "Ouch, I''m hurt, Nanyet." "You are not." "I''m not, but still. You should be mindful of your words, not everyone is as used to you as I am." "Indeed, I believe you and I are each other''s most recurrent interlocutor, even without including periods spent in silence together in the same room. However, I believe I still have more different interlocutors as I single-handedly handle your clientele." "You really have the knack to use my words against me, uh?" "Apologies. This was not an attempt at a repartee. Merely a statement of facts." "Digging a deeper hole there, buddy." "I am not digging a hole. Should a metaphor be used, I am merely observing and describing a preexisting pit, namely, your social life." "I think I''m going to end this conversation here now." "Would you like me to call Silhouette to initiate another discussion, since he is your most recurrent interlocutor outside of myself? Discussing with a foreigner lacking knowledge and needing help on multiple fronts may be easier to navigate and more comfortable." "Nanyet, you are my most trusted companion. But I would like you to know that sometimes, you make me miss my internship with the fair folks." "I could call them instead if you wish." "DO NOT!"
While Blake and Nanyet were going through their vaudeville routine, the group of police officers who were on their way back to the city proper discussed among themselves. "So, Inspector, what''s the deal now? Black told us-" "He told us a Patchee dealt the killing blow, which we already guessed. But creatures who have been beaten into submission like that don''t just rebel out of nowhere, they were either incentivized by something or took advantage of an opening. Either way, a third party was involved. Hopefully, the autopsy will tell us how involved they were." "If they did the heavy lifting and then fed him to the beasts or if they just manipulated them, right?" "Exactly. My money''s on the former. We never got a full report on what the Patcher could do, but we know he wasn''t defenseless. His creations fell in line for a reason. He had to be at least wounded for them to feel comfortable attacking him." "Inspector, we just got a text. Sunburn was sighted at the crime scene. Do you think..." "Sighted, no fight, no need to worry. And no, he isn''t involved. It''s just the Angels trying to do their own investigation, they''re the ones who needed the Patcher''s services the most. Still, keep that in mind. If Sunburn starts going after people soon, then there''s a good chance he has a reason to suspect them. And we all know the Angels ain''t the sharpest, if they noticed something, then so can we." "Yes Inspector!" Yup. That was going to be a troublesome case. Chapter 198 : Alley cats Beneath Zalcien, in a chamber amongst many in a network of tunnels situated between the city''s labyrinthine sewers and the Sunken corpse of its predecessor, was a great and magnificent hive of flowers and wax, of green and gold that covered all of the stone, where large blue bees wistfully flew and collected pollen, all under the appreciative gaze of a man dressed in vegetal robes of living plants. He was handsome, with long blonde hair and a charming sere smile. Well, under normal circumstances, he would be wearing this smile. Here, in the privacy of his secret garden, surrounded only by flora and fauna who he trusted more than his human followers, there was no need to hide his feelings. No need not to frown. The Biflora was not having a good day. Truth be told, he was having a terrible day. What he had learned from the Patcher hadn''t been much, but enough to make him realize Silhouette posed a greater threat than initially thought. He had hoped he would have had the time to better know the man before going from a passive approach to an aggressive one, but the failure of the Siblings he had sent had forced his hand and hastened their plans. His Delegate Shepherd''s assaults on his base in the Sunken City had already shown the presence of troublesome individuals amongst his forces, he didn''t need the situation to grow any more complicated. The latest news swiftly punished this desire for peace. The Patcher has been killed. The magnanimous leader of the Hivines never had a place in his heart for the elf, and the fact he wouldn''t have to part with some of his deceased drones to pay for his information was a small blessing. What worried him was the timing of the event. He was just getting information about Silhouette from the man and less than an hour later he was dead, impaled upon a spike on top of his burning home under the cheerful applause of his creations. Yes, he had no evidence of guilt, but one didn''t become the leader of a large cult without good deductive skills and sharp instincts. As surely as he could notice undercover agents trying to join the ranks of his sheep, he could discern that Silhouette was the likeliest culprit in the city''s latest great murder case. If not Silhouette then one of his agents at the very least, for not even mercenaries and assassins in the city would have dared go after the elf, regardless of the reward. And this scared him. He had distrusted the warnings of the man. The Patcher wasn''t known for his sanity, and even then the Biflora wouldn''t have put it past his self-proclaimed flesh-crafting rival to purposefully mislead him. The fall of Abrakaboom''s friend was impressive for a newcomer on the scene, he had to admit, but there was a large gap between a mere runemaster and a holy man leading the city''s greatest congregation. Yes, Silhouette''s enterprise was growing, and he had an undeniable talent for gathering interesting allies, but all of that was within the realm of the reasonable. Never had he seen the shadow man as a true threat, merely a talented potential recruit, a small business competitor, or an annoyance at the very worst. His display of worry to the now-dead man was simply an act, a caricature of his true feelings to learn all he could. The fact he was willing to pay the heavy price of parting with some of his bees'' bodies was merely... Commitment to the act. Yes, that was it. The latest turn of events changed his opinion drastically. The Patcher wasn''t a powerful man. Not a weak one, that was true, he could have dealt with the brunt of fighters in the city, but when it came to the truly mighty, to those who truly deserved the title of Super... The man''s actions earned him his place as a Villain, not his strength. And yet, it was this fact that worried him. The Patcher''s survival had been owed to his reputation and his importance in the affairs of many of the city''s criminal groups, so for someone to ignore all of this and kill him, to have the bravery or stupidity to antagonize the vast majority of the underworld... If Silhouette was indeed the responsible party, then that meant that the Patcher''s warning had been correct. That Silhouette truly would be willing to go against established powers if he perceived them as threats. And now, the story of Silhouette patiently waiting, growing his group while weathering Runar''s attacks until he felt he could and did successfully raid and end his opponent''s organization in a single assault, had a much more threatening aura for a man who was already stuck as his enemy. Truly, he could only blame the lost Siblings for this. The Delegate Shepherd did his job wonderfully and followed every order to the letter, unlike the now corrupted pair. At least he now knew better than to send another to pick up where the last ones failed, while the Siblings weren''t irreplaceable there were still notable losses. Thankfully frequent memory alteration to scrub precious information from Siblings was already an established procedure, otherwise, Silhouette would have gotten even more tools to foment his revenge. One of the bees that flew by stopped to rest on his shoulder, dancing its species'' dance as it rubbed against his hair. His frown made way for a smile as he raised his hand to brush his finger against the insect''s side, taking care not to touch the legs or wings. These little darlings weren''t as fragile as their mundane brethren, but they still found these spots a little too sensitive for petting. "I''m sorry, dear. You need not worry. I am merely fatigued by the situation at hand, but I know the hive will persevere." It cleaned its antennae in response as it settled down in his hair. He chuckled before returning to more serious matters, addressing the wall of flowers next to him. "Send the word. Siblings shan''t be used in areas close to Silhouette''s known territories and agents. Do not engage, but keep track of his activities if possible. He is now to be considered a threat equal to the Blood Angels in the absence of Sunburn." The plants rustled as petals opened and closed, the information already making its way through the root network of these manmade caverns in the city''s foundation. For now, his focus would have to be on the dwindling Wicked Witchcraft and the expanding mechanical forces of the Empress. Once his spot in Zalcien''s hierarchy was secured once more and the chaos of Abrakaboom''s and the Patcher''s disappearances settled, then he could start tackling this new shadow problem properly. In the meantime, he could still make preparations and adjustments to incorporate more light-aligned features amongst the Hivines'' ranks, just to be safe.
Doctor Ivan Decanov raised one of his magnificent prominent rectangular eyebrows at the sight of two strange cats running away from an alley near his home on his way back from work. He might have been hard at work most of his time, but he was still familiar enough with the neighborhood''s felines to know those two weren''t locals, or at the very least were new arrivals, which would be strange since he wasn''t aware of anyone moving in and people usually didn''t take in multiple pets at the time. Not to mention, while bald cats had their niche, he doubted they were usually so large or had this many limbs. His suspicions grew when he barely caught something flying out of sight above the roofs of the surrounding buildings, sadly too fast for him to properly identify it as anything more than a hand-sized dark mass. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. He was about to stop and call his employer to report the strange happenings when he heard a small squeak. Turning his head, the scientist saw a particularly large black rat saluting before retreating to the darkness of the alley. The robot took the sign as what it was: Mischief was on the case, and he was free to retire for the rest of the day. There was still too much sunlight for the normally small mammals to be as effective as they could be, but he didn''t doubt they already had teams tracking the oddities from the sewers. Following the flying one seemed a lost cause, but the network they had formed beneath the streets would let them scout as meerkats and quickly spread the news of any more "cat" sightings. The Draskian grunted as he continued to walk home. Mischief would handle the rest, including reporting on the matter, and he would be free to enjoy his quiet time at home. Soon enough he was facing the repurposed warehouse he called home, the front door automatically opening at his will. As usual, he announced himself as he walked into the antechamber that separated the street from the rest of the building''s rooms, a choice initially born out of annoyance at the constant questions those who came knowing at his door had concerning the contents of his workshop that had also found a new utility to help the space feel more "natural" and "homely" for his roommate, someone that unlike him preferred a house to a factory. "I''m home." And, just as much as his announcement was part of their routine, so was the sound of cluttered objects falling to the floor. The scientist shook his head at the clumsiness as he placed his feet in the machine designed to clean them from the outside''s world filth, though deep down he knew that had he had lips rather than cold unflexing metal on for a face, there might have been a small smile there. As expected, as soon as he was done and stepped back out of the small cleaner, his roommate finished cleaning and burst into the small room to greet him regardless of the fact it was a little cramped with his body''s addition. "Hey, Doc! Had a good day today?" The boy''s cheerful and smooth voice didn''t completely match his body. Yes, he was a young adult in what many would consider the prime of his life, but there was an almost caricaturesque aspect of his man-made body, an Adonis of metal and milky synthetic flesh that looked more at home in a costume store than a real person. Frankly, even while wearing clothes, the only things keeping an onlooker from thinking the boy was a particularly extravagant mannequin were the wig of short blonde hair on his head and the genuine life and kindness on his face, too perfect as it may seem. "Yes, Adam. Though, out of sheer curiosity, you wouldn''t have happened to notice some odd animals around the house lately, would you?" The boy looked pensive as he began to look up in thought, lightly rubbing his chin. "Well, I did spot those two weird cats earlier, but I haven''t seen them since. Did you see them too? Ah, and aside from that, just the strange things moving in the dark you told me not to worry about." "Yes, I have seen them. In the future, please do call me or tell the things in the dark if you see them again. I have my doubts about the veracity of their feline nature." "Tell the weird shadow monsters if I see the fake cats again, got it." "They''re rats." "The cats?" "The shadows. They''re rats. Trained and highly professional. They have a few hiccups, but overall more reliable than many of my past coworkers." "Oh! Oh... So Silhouette has trained rats?" "More like hired hands." "Don''t you mean hired paws?" The glare the Draskian sent the boy had frozen lesser men. The youngster only chuckled at the reaction his pun caused. "Regardless, they''re trustworthy. If you''re ever in trouble-" "Go into the darkness or call you, I know. You already told me." "The sewers are also a viable option. They colonized the tunnels with ease." "Ew. Wait, they colonized the whole thing?" "Of course not. They only occupy areas that are relevant to Silhouette''s business, to be his eyes and ears as well as bodyguards for people of interest." "Like you?" "Us. My employer for once understands that worker productivity is influenced by mood, and keeping you safe is just as important as keeping me alive." "Aw, thanks Doc. I''d like to meet him one of these days, he sounds like an interesting guy." "He is my least hated employer so far. As for meeting him... He is quite busy these days, and truthfully I doubt you''d have much to talk about. I also quite appreciate his idea of separating professional and personal life. Why do you think he goes by Silhouette?" "Oh. Wait, Silhouette isn''t his name?" "I never got confirmation, but I doubt it. It would be a little on the nose for someone with shadow powers to have this sort of name, no? Not to mention, when he and Techlord talk there is a fondness there he doesn''t have with the rest of us, not even those who were with him from the start like those shopkeepers. He knows something the rest of us don''t, and the most logical option would be his true identity or the like." "Whoa. Welp, I''m happy you''re having fun. Do you still have these applications to do?" "Thankfully, unless we have more unexpected applicants, we should end the inventors and inventions round tomorrow. My presence won''t be required anymore when it comes to the administrative staff and I''ll be free to return to engineering. And, since we''re broaching the topic..." "Yeah?" Had he had lungs, the scientist would likely have taken a deep breath. "I will need to work on another location soon, it has had monster issues recently that bumped up the need for an advanced security system. Due to the time necessary for transport, it might be best for me to stay on-site for the duration of the work." The boy''s face fell as though the Draskian had just announced his birthday was canceled. "Oh. You''re leaving. How long?" "I''m a genius, Adam. It should be a week at the most. Perhaps a little longer if monsters interrupt, but nothing outrageous." "Yeah, okay." Despite his words, it was clear his mood hadn''t improved. There was a possible solution to this problem the robot had foreseen, though he wasn''t sure of its viability. "You know, I could perhaps have you accompany me." The boy''s eyes lit up, both figuratively and literally. "Really?" "I would need to ask Silhouette for authorization, of course. You''d need to sign a magical NDA considering the secrecy of the organization. But, I would appreciate a trusted hand, even if a little clumsy, and above all an interlocutor who isn''t undead, an idiot, or a brat." "I''d love to! Wait, did you say undead? Will there be zombies?" "There won''t be... Uh. Say, would you consider an undead arboreal entity a zombie?" "Are you sure it isn''t a regular spirit possessing a mundane tree?" "Considering that according to Silhouette the tree was sitting at the person''s desk, yes." "Alright, so regular physical undead it is. If it''s silent or speaks fluently, it''s a skeleton. If it struggles to form words or just makes random noises, then it''s a zombie." "Uh. Then I suppose the area is haunted by ghosts and one zombie." "That sounds awesome!" The Draskian shook his head. "I still fail to see what you find appealing about the paranormal." "Come on, Doc! You can''t tell me you''re not at least a little intrigued. The mysteries of the soul are just as great as the mysteries of quantum science and the like, no?" "I still fail to see what is so interesting about failing to die properly." As expected, the boy proceeded to spend the next hour trying to convince his roommate of the greatness of the paranormal field. Not that he minded. Regardless of the poor subject, the importance was seeing Adam happy. Chapter 199 : Tech Mech in progress "See, Junior, this is why you always have to double-check your welding. When you''re working, you might be too focused on the whole to realize some weaknesses in the finer details." "Origin..." Sam nodded at his child''s remark as he fixed a few cracks in the spot he pointed out. While their speech was still heavily limited, he had been around them long enough to guess what they were trying to say more easily. "Right, when you''re in the zone, some things slip past you. Even without that, making sure what you made doesn''t fall apart is standard procedure." "Origin?" "Yup, especially when dealing with complex stuff like that. The more parts there are, the likelier it is for one of them to have a problem." "Origin!" "Yeah, a group works like that too. It''s why Silhouette likes keeping things separated. It''s easier to manage multiple independent small groups than a singular big one. It has its share of flaws, like the fact we don''t communicate a ton with each other, or the lack of trust and loyalty to others we do not meet, but I''d say it''s worth it. Makes sense, too. Us Sunken City folks are exposed to more danger than the Palace team, but we''re also more loyal than the guys up in the slums." "Origin?" "Right, you haven''t met anyone outside of the orphanage aside from the boss yet. Don''t worry, we''ll get to it soon enough." "Origin..." "No, you can''t just come along for the application stuff. One, you''d just sit out in silence since your point of view isn''t relevant for that kind of thing. Two, I still think you''re not quite ready yet. When the interviews are over I''ll join with the nuns to get you up to speed on city life." "Origin?" "Yeah, I was born in the slums and had to survive on my own, but I still got to experience civilized life in the later years." "Origin..." "Right, I don''t stay in the city much, let alone on my own. Which is the point. I don''t feel comfortable there, like I''m an intruder, so what about you? You need to be properly prepared." "Origin..." "Right, I''ll admit ghost nuns who died a hundred years ago might not be the most up-to-date teachers. Fine, I''ll ask the boss if he minds me hiring a real professional." "Origin..." "I suppose I can take the time to join you in your lessons if I don''t have too much work. Maybe I''ll learn a thing or two. Doubtful, your dad''s a genius." "Origin!" "Yeah, yeah. Now quiet down for a bit, I need to focus. This part has to be perfect, or else instead of making our buddy move it''ll go kaboom." "Origin..." The teen genius chuckled before putting his all into his work, making a few adjustments to revive an old friend. The workload Silhouette dropped on him and the need for Junior to get their own suit had eaten his free time, but soon enough, the Tech Mech would walk again. And this time, it would have enough upgrades to be more than a sitting duck when facing powerful Supers. He had to admit, lacking resources as he was back then, the first model was too slow and cumbersome to be reliable against anything with actual brains. This, though? Oh oh... He couldn''t wait to use it. The one thing he was still uncertain of was involving Silhouette to infuse the mech. While he disliked the pompous prick that was Decanov, Sam had to admit he was right to be more mindful of the use of infused materials. Even without the Patcher there to run his mouth and even if the Biflora kept what he learned to himself, sooner or later folks would realize that anti-shadow equipment would have disastrous effects on everything Silhouette-related, and that meant needing to work around this weakness. And when it came down to it, using mundane materials was easier than trying to knock the weakness out of infused ones. He had needed to use some infused stuff in the infrastructure of the thing, to make sure it could hold its weight without collapsing and to better handle the knockback of the weaponry he was still working on, but the more time passed the more he thought he would better keep a mundane metal alloy for the brunt of the armor. Well, he could look into asking Silhouette to only infuse a thin layer inside, just to help with kinetic and stabbing damage. Maybe fire too? In their tests infused materials were more fire resistant than their original versions, but not overly so. No, considering the amount he planned to ask for, it would not be sufficient for thermal isolation. Not that he hadn''t already included a cooling system or other means to handle one of the biggest weaknesses of a giant hunk of metal, it was how the first model had been destroyed, but any additional feature he could cram into it without compromising the existing design was welcome. A few minutes later he had finished, taking the rag his child was handing him to clean up the dirtiness that had accumulated on the mask and the front of his armor during his work, though he put more effort into the former. Smooth helmets were great for circumventing the usual vision-blocking problems and with the right materials did so without losing any durability, but stuff stuck to them still blocked the wearer''s sight. That was one flaw he would need to correct for his next suit. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Alright Junior, what do you think?" "Origin..." "Right, it still isn''t ready for operation, but I think it should be done by the end of the week, or the next one''s at the worst. As is, it should however already be functional as a defensive turret." "Origin?" "Yup, those can be really effective. Sure, Supers and guards are important and all, but a properly defended turret alone can suffice to defend a location." At that, a blaring alarm echoed throughout the orphanage''s grounds, red lights signaling an incoming threat. While their horrific visage was hidden by their suit, Sam could tell Junior was probably smiling, giddy, and excited as they were, shaking on the spot and with their fists going lightly up and down. The teen genius for his part sighed as he rolled his neck, annoyed at his work being interrupted. "I hope this isn''t another one of those monster hordes, those are always annoying." "Origin?" The teen swore. "Right, the Patchees. We''re at risk of friendly fire, gotta hurry." The inventor and his progeny rushed to the entrance, leaving the unfinished Tech Mech behind in the orphanage''s inner court - though they had made sure to work on it in an isolated corner, to avoid disturbing the haunted tree and the communal grave she was guarding in the middle too much. Mother Greenheld was already very tolerant to let him work on his war machine in these parts, he didn''t want to annoy her unnecessarily. The Mech wasn''t alone with the tree though, several of the Patcher''s transformed victims huddling together around the dead wood as roots rose from the ground to hold them close, reassuring them through the panic seeping into their hearts. It didn''t take long for the pair to be back outside in the dilapidated streets of the Sunken City, a member of the Shadow Commando speaking into his walkie-talkie as he held his gun up in his other hand. "What''s happening?" "Good to see you, Tech boss. The guys patrolling the further perimeters say they spotted stuff coming out way, though they couldn''t make out what." "Monster horde?" "Nope, too small and too few. Me and the boys think it''s Supers, that or those weird shapeshifting thingies the boss and the doc said they fought up in the factory." "That or the bulk of the monsters are beneath our feet, keep an eye on that." "Got it, Tech boss." "Any idea where they''re arriving?" "Patrol says they spotted them back in the North, but they weren''t running in a straight line." "So North is our best bet, but not reliable. Got it. Tell your pals to spread evenly around the base, I''m letting you coordinate that." "Roger that Tech boss!" "Junior, you stay right here. The entrance is still our biggest weak point, so I''m trusting you with protecting it." "Origin!" "Me? I''m going up on the roof. Gotta be ready for flyers, and if none arrives I can just drop in where our intruders wind up. Now get going!" The Shadow Commando nodded as he began speaking into his walkie-talkie once more. Meanwhile, Techlord activated one of the features of his boots, thrusters burning and sending him into the air in a perfect arc to land on top of the main building. That way, while he could be ready to drop anywhere, he''d still be closer to Junior than anything else. Was it preferential treatment? Yes. But he was Techlord, genius inventor, Silhouette''s closest thing to a second-in-command besides Polisson, and if anyone had a problem with it they were free to complain to his Techzooka. For several long and tense minutes, nothing happened. It almost felt like the whole thing was a fluke, a false alarm. Sam knew better. Silhouette may have been paranoid, but he had demonstrated repeatedly he was right more often than not, and that habit had spread to Sam. Growing up in the slums taught you to stay on edge, but Silhouette outdid all of Sam''s habits. A year ago, the teen would have slightly lowered his guard, not completely dismissing the presence of a threat but rather rationalizing the calm by thinking whatever it was that was dangerous wasn''t aiming for him or had already found another toy. Now? Now Techlord was ready and fired his wrist-mounted miniature rocket as soon as his suit''s captors caught a disturbance to his right. As could be expected of such a small piece of weaponry, barely the size of a finger, the explosion it produced was small. Sadly for the currently screaming man who had been hit in the face with it, those miniature devices were not meant to produce big bangs but disabling ones, filled with a mix of chemicals courtesy of Guy and his crew made specifically to confuse and even paralyze those unlucky enough to breathe them in at ground zero. The still-screaming man dressed in an odd stereotypical burglar outfit fell off the roof and onto the ground, rolling on the floor as he scratched at his masked face with his gloved hands. While the showing was pathetic, Techlord''s mood soured when he realized how little damage the rocket itself had caused, leaving barely a singe on the man''s torso. He quickly brought a hand up to activate his radio and address all of his forces. "One assailant down. He is dressed like a burglar. Incredibly stealthy and resilient, possibility of magical or enhanced clothing. Go all out and don''t drop your guard." "Roger that, Tech boss." He was pleased to see the Shadow Commando already moving in to secure the one he dropped, but immediately turned around to knee yet another burglar in the gut, this one featuring prominent ram horns poking out of his black wooly cap. The man fell on all fours and coughed, perfectly in time for Techlord''s roundhouse kick to hit him in the side of the face and launch him too off the roof, one of his horns shattering under the force of the hit. Surprisingly, he got back up once on the ground, but Junior''s joined fists whacking him back down promptly remedied that. The abomination gave their father a thumbs-up, which he answered his kind. "Good job, Junior. Gotta say, I haven''t heard of a burglar-themed Super group before." "We don''t usually work around these parts, but the pay for this job was too good to pass up. That being said, I think we''ll need a bonus though." Electrified short blades popped out of Sam''s wrists as he turned, metal echoing as they met the red crowbar this third intruder was holding. This one had a third eye on his forehead, with a hole hastily made into his mask to accommodate it. Sparks flew as electricity coursed through their weapons, though the man appeared unharmed. Likely isolating gloves, then. "So, gonna tell me who you are or will I have to beat it out of ya?" "Ah! You''ve got spunk, kid. But you ain''t anything to us. We''re the Burgling Brothers, and we don''t fail a job. Unless a Hero or another Villain''s involved, of course, but I ain''t seeing any around here." The teen scoffed before surprising his opponent with a headbutt, loosening his grip on his weapon just enough for Sam to snatch it and hit him in the head with it. This one stayed on the roof unlike the other two, the knock sending him back but still standing. "Agh... The hell, kid?" "The name''s Techlord, this city''s greatest inventor. You''re just a bunch of nobodies." "Ah, you got me and two of my bros by surprise. Big deal. We''re way more than that." Despite his cocky words, the man definitely now lacked the confidence he displayed earlier. In other words, what little Sam had shown was enough to have him doubt his group''s chances. "Perfect." "What?" Sam grinned beneath his helmet. "I''ve got a big toy that still needs a few tests." The burglar gulped. The rumors say that screams and explosions echoed across the entirety of the Sunken City that day.