Alex was worn out beyond words. The lantern had done something nasty to him. While the aftermath had felt like a bolt from the blue and a fall from on high, the original sensation from the light of his soul being peeled and consumed layer by layer. He was roasted completely and truly.
Alex lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. His hands rested on his chest. He lay there in bed for who knows how long. Alex rested as best he could without sleeping. Suddenly, there was a banging on his door. Alex shot up to stare at his door as someone on the other side pounded like they were having an emergency. Alex rolled out of bed with a very human groan and shambled up to the door. He braced against the doorframe with a propped arm and flung the entry wide.
Sin staggered through and fell across the floor. He had braced himself against the door. Sin’s left arm was missing, and blood gushed across the carpeted floor. “Gah!” Alex shouted as he reflexively leaped back, away from the mess of man and gore. “Dude! Not in my room!” Alex shouted as he scooped Sin up under one arm and hurried into and down the hall. Alex stopped in front of Sin’s room and tried the door to find it locked. “Sin. Where’s your key?”
Sin gave a one-armed shrug. “Lost the lousy thing.”
“Gah!” Alex snapped in sheer frustration before kicking in the door and dragging Sin inside. The Soulforged threw the Immortal onto his own bed. “Bleed on your own sheets, bastard.” Alex snapped as he stormed to the door, swinging the splintered sheet of wood to slam against the burst frame.
Alex did not have time for the Immortal’s shenanigans. He just wanted to rest. What he really wanted was sleep. To fall into a coma for a solid week and wake up after a nice, long dream of women and food. As Alex pushed through the cracked door into his own room, he gave a longing groan at the thought of such a glorious dream.
He stepped into the dark room, the light from the hall shining a beam into the space. The light revealed the mess of equipment Vex had left scattered across the floor. As Alex entered and closed the door, he passed a bare table. Halfway into his bed, Alex realized the bathroom door was cracked open. The rat must’ve left it open after his piss.
With an irritated grunt, he rolled out of bed and quietly latched the door shut.
Alex rolled back into bed and stared at the ceiling. He was so done with this job. He’d only just been woken from a stasis, and was not eager to get put back into corpse storage. Alex just wanted to get back to living a good life. Instead, he was shuffled into a deck of schizos. Architallis had crossed a line; Alex couldn’t deny that. Trying to drug Vex was a step beyond the pale. But Vex had flown off the rails when she retaliated, escalating warfare style. Alex and his order brothers had pulled escalating pranks on each other to the point of near-madness. He’d even almost died from a few of those pranks, but what Vex had done wasn’t to be funny or get a juvenile victory over someone. That was an outright attack on Architallis, even if she did hurt Alex and Trouble in the process. She was compulsive. She was dangerous. The whole situation dissolved out of hand so quickly.
Alex lost track of things so fast. He remembered trying to stop Vex, but he’d frozen, curious of the Alchemyst’s past. Once he’d seen Architallis’s reason for imprisonment, he’d seen enough. Alex hadn’t seen what his shadow spoke to; he was a bit preoccupied with having his soul flayed. However, he was semiconscious enough to catch the instant of Trouble’s shadow. That momentary nightmare. A flash of teeth coming for his throat.
Alex turned over onto his side, resting his hand under his head as he glared at the wall. His gaze roamed his field of vision, landing on the table. The table where the lantern had been. The lantern he had never moved. The lantern that was now simply gone.
“Oh, dreck…. Oh dreck. Oh dreck! Oh Dreck! Oh Dreck!!” Alex’s curses grew in volume with each repetition. He fell out of bed in a sprawl before clambering to his feet. “It’s gone,” Alex muttered to himself. He hurried over and flung the bathroom door open. Within the space was a chair in the tub, surrounded by a severed coil of rope. “He’s gone!” Alex snapped at himself.
Alex flung himself out of his quarters to splatter across the door opposite his. He threw himself against the hall wall. Alex pounded on one door after another with a closed fist, the doors each denting under his force. “Emergency!” Alex shouted. “Emergency!”
A door down the hall flew open, and a bleary-eyed, green-skinned orc stumbled out into the space. “Keep it down, dreck head!”
Alex turned and stomped up to the half-awake man, his fists clenched at his sides. As Alex closed the distance, the Orc’s eyes went wide at the sight of Alex’s skull. The Soulforged stormed up to the man and gripped his nightshirt in both hands before lifting him onto his tiptoes. “We are having an emergency,” Alex said in a dangerously quiet tone. The orc’s face grew several shades paler before Alex set him back on his feet and calmly smoothed the man’s shirt of wrinkles. “Word of advice, friend. Go back to bed and forget this ever happened.”
That was when Vex flung her own door open. The Witch looked like she hadn’t slept well, her armor and hat worn askew, her hair a worse mess than usual. “This had better be good, Tin Man,” Vex growled. “I swear, if this was just because you couldn’t sleep, I’d take that skull off your neck and bat the bone into a busy street.”
Alex scampered up, gripping her arms. “They’re gone.” He whispered.
“Who’s gone?” Vex asked, rubbing the sleep from one eye.
Alex shook Vex like a bag of popcorn. “They are gone.” Alex hissed. “Drake and the lantern.”
Vex’s foggy eyes cleared as she caught up to Alex’s words. The Witch focused on the Knyght. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Alex said with barely controlled panic as he released Vex’s shoulders. “Had an emergency with Sin. Drake must’ve slipped out while I was handling him.”
“And you didn’t stow the lantern like I told you, did you?” Vex asked, suspecting the answer with a challenging glare.
“I…” Alex started, but paused in frustration. “Can we talk about this later? Drake’s getting away.”
“Point made,” Vex said as she pulled her hat off her head. She handed it over to Alex. “Grab my gear from your room. After that, snatch Archi and clean up his room too.” Vex peered down both sides of the hall they stood in. “You said the Immortal was back, right?”
“I…uh… yeah,” Alex replied as he numbly took the hat. He was still processing what was going on. Everything was moving so fast. Vex had snapped into action mode as if she’d just been readying for a fight and not just woken up. Alex had never really had the battle-ready snap reaction. Even when he was running missions with his old Knyght Order, he always needed a few moments to ready himself before a massive brawl.
“Great,” Vex said, snapping Alex out of his thoughts. “I’m snagging the idiot, and we’re going to the Adventurer Vehicle Rental shop. Turning in the van for something… beefier.”
“Wait,” Alex interjected. “We already know where they’re heading. Torrin settlement. That’s like, what, three hours north of here. Shouldn’t we fly there to head them off?”
Vex rolled her tongue piercing in thought. “Damn it,” she muttered. “You may have a point.” Vex visibly thought the problem over for a few moments. “Hey,” she shot at Alex. “Instead of standing there, waiting for my decision like some grade schooler waiting for their teacher, why don’t you get to cleaning up my equipment?” Vex turned away and walked down the hall. “I’ll get Trouble to give you a hand.”
Alex grumbled, eager to act. He’d screwed up and lost the Omen and their hostage. He needed to make things right. But he knew Vex was thinking more clearly than him. A crazy change of pace from the night before. Alex did as he was told, hurrying back into his room to start collecting Vex’s mess of tools she flung around his room. He picked up the scattering, piece by piece, dropping them in the hat like the pocket space was a trash bag.
Alex couldn’t wrap his head around that Vex woman. She seemed insane at times; over-eager to jump into action and just as eager to start a brawl. But at other times, she was calm, level-headed, and collected. Alex couldn’t figure out her buttons. The torturing thing was something she’d kept close to the chest, and that much Alex understood. But flying that far off the handle. Vex could’ve left the room, separated herself from the situation while Alex talked with Architallis about what he’d done. The Alchemyst had taken things too far before Vex, so maybe Alex should focus on talking with him instead.
Alex heard Vex banging on Trouble’s door to wake the poor guy. From the display on the holo-window in Alex’s room, showing a full moon over a sea of wheat, it couldn’t be anywhere near morning. For the hundredth time, Alex wished he could use a therra, like in the old days. He wanted to check the time, browse the LSN, and pull up stupid videos while the rest of the lance was arguing like a convening of the Elven subspecies. Even if Alex wasn’t the leader, he still saw the mess this lance was. Architallis and Vex butted heads all the time. Trouble and Vex played favorites with each other and treated the rest of the lance as second-best. Or, at least, Vex did. Trouble seemed to be kind and thoughtful to everyone unless ticked off, like with Archi. Watching Trouble lift the hulking Alchemyst off his feet was a shock. That brought to mind that flash of Trouble’s sin. Teeth. Alex shivered at the thought.
That was when Trouble walked into the room. He was disconnected from the bleed feed to keep his lung empty. Alex took that as a good sign. However, the bags under the Neoform’s eyes spoke to another story. Trouble’s posture was slumped, tired, and in pain. Trouble looked around the floor of the room with his weary eyes before shaking his head. “Sister,” Tro chided to himself.
“Um…h-hey, buddy,” Alex said nervously. “How-how you feelin’?”
Trouble knelt down and picked up some tool Alex didn’t recognize before dropping it into the Witch hat Alex held. “Rough,” Trouble said, sounding bedraggled. “Lantern messed up internals.”
“Oof,” Alex winced in sympathy. “That’s pretty rough. I feel you, my man.” Alex picked up another tool between thumb and forefinger, as if it were something disgusting.
Architallis stepped into the room with a beastly yawn full of teeth, and his arms stretched over his head, brushing the ceiling. “We need to hurry,” the Alchemyst said as he joined in cleaning up. “Miss Vexxenna told me the situation. Mister Stehling, do you know how long ago our Drake guest left?”
“Um… about maybe two hours ago. If my guess is right, that is,” Alex answered, scratching his skull.
“Troubling,” Architallis said as he carefully set another device into the hat.
“Hmm?” Trouble asked.
“Not you, my friend,” Architallis clarified. “I find it deeply disconcerting that you failed in such a way, Mister Stehling. I heard Miss Vexxenna give you clear orders to hide the lantern and not leave your quarters.”
“Come on,” Alex said with a sigh, his posture sagging. “Cut me a break, Mister Genius. I didn’t leave my room until there was a Sin beating down my door and bleeding all over the floor. I had to get him into his own room before he ruined more of my space.” Alex shook his head as he looked at the floor. “There’s zero chance of us getting our security deposit back between all the blood and the door I blew open.”
Architallis gave Alex a patient but knowing look, like some old and experienced instructor hiding a switch behind his back to slap the disappointing student. “If I were you, I would be less concerned about our security deposit than the more immediate fallout of letting our guest escape with our target device. Now, we must track him down again and re-collect the device. However, Shadow Saber will be on alert for us now. They will be watching for our return. We may very likely need to terminate several of them, if not all of them.”
Alex stared at the Alchemyst and gave an audible gulp despite not needing to swallow. He quickly dropped his gaze as the Soulforged knelt to collect the last piece of the mess. As Alex thought about his response, he quietly led the way over to Architallis’s room. He picked up several beakers and tubes from the room’s table before he spoke again. Without looking up, Alex said, “I don’t want to kill anyone. Monsters I can slay, no prob. Bandits, I can put down if they’re causing trouble.”
“Hmm?” Tro asked again.
“Not you.” Alex clarified. “But like I was sayin’. I don’t feel right putting down just random guys that are just doin’ their own jobs,” he dropped the glass and plastics into the Witch hat blindly before turning to face the other two in the room. “We’re the ones stealing from them, ya know. Like, I’m chill taking the lantern, maybe even roughen’ em up a bit…maybe. But I’m not cool with just wiping the whole lance like a ravening of ghouls. It’s fine and all to hate the corp, but what about the field guys? These are just some dudes, doing what needs doing to make a bit of clat to pay bills.”
Architallis had collected his backpack and was carefully stowing plastic containers of components and packs of completed devices. “You are painfully naive, my mechanical friend. While there are those within the corporate machine who simply need the career to keep themselves and their kin fed, that does not mean every simple grunt is faultless.” A hard edge entered Architallis’s tone as he almost slammed a container into his pack. “There are plenty of individuals who knowingly perform dark, treacherous, and even heinous acts in the name of that dear parent corporation. You need to realize that those individuals are the source and origin of that beloved term ‘corp-rat’. If the corporation is issuing insidious actions to such people, it is best to sever the hand intending those acts and break it down into a slime of fundamental components.”
“Morbid,” Trouble said without looking up from helping Architallis package components.
“And disturbingly specific,” Alex commented as he finished cleaning the table. “Now, Arch, I think we need to talk about yesterday.”
“Please. Not you as well.” Architallis half pleaded as he pinched his brow. “I’ve already burned enough beakers, having a heart-to-heart with our intrepid leader. The woman has drained me of patience.”
“Dude,” Alex warned, placing a hand on his hip. “You owe everyone answers for that scene. And I’m not just talking about the shadow.”
“Is it truly necessary?” Architallis casually pleaded, a headache clearly setting in. Alex didn’t get headaches anymore, and that was at least one thing he could be thankful for.
“We need to clear the air,” Alex said before turning to Trouble. “You agree?”
Trouble gave as energetic a nod as he could muster. “Need answers. Reasons. Was bullying. Then drugging. Very bad.”
Architallis stood and moved to sit on the bed. He rubbed the side of one finger along his brow, his head half hung, half cocked. “Fine. Fine.” He snapped, raising his hands in irritated surrender. “I’ve had concerns about Miss Vexxenna since I first encountered her. She draws danger down on us as often as she starts it herself. The woman is aggressive, obstinate, and infuriating to say the least. Every moment I am with her, I feel like danger is lurking just around the corner.”
“Understandable.” Trouble said, nodding his head in understanding.
“I get all of that.” Alex agreed. “The lady can drive me up a wall. But was that really enough to bring you to almost drugging her?”
Architallis scoffed. “Certainly not. I would have weathered her storm like a stone, with patience and dignity. However, after seeing that torture scene from her past… I needed to know her reasons for such terrible actions. I also needed to know if she could do the same to any of us.”
“Well, any of us, but Tro,” Alex said with a laugh.
Trouble gave a tired smile, only noticeable by the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“Well, and Sin too.” Alex laughed again. “Then again, with that guy’s luck, he might wish she could kill him.”
Sin staggered along behind the Witch. He knew from the moment he realized he’d lost his key that Sin was not in for a warm welcome by his lance members. Sure enough, the Soulforged had picked him up like a sack of grist for the mill, broke down his door, and flung him onto his bed. Sin didn’t want to bleed on his bed. That was going to make trouble for the laundress, or whoever was cleaning the establishment’s linens. Instead, he would’ve preferred being dropped in the washing tub. But the inconsiderate ignoramus didn’t think that far ahead. Of course, the thing with cogs for brains wouldn’t think to minimize the mess for others.
Sin’s arm hadn’t even fully healed. While it had once been stripped to the shoulder, he at least had the start of an elbow, and his suit wasn’t far behind. But the Witch cared little for his plight. She seemed in an even fouler mood than when the lance had been ejected from the corporation office. That had been the last time Sin had seen the woman, and she hadn’t shared a scrap of salient news about the events that transpired since his absence.
“Keep up,” the Witch snapped at Sin as he shuffled along in the dead of night. Sin looked up at the stars and moons longingly, as he had countless times before. But no salvation was coming for him. No god from on high would descend to speak on his behalf. He would rather have been smote out of existence and passed on to whatever afterlife waited for him.
Sin hurried to catch up with the Witch as she closed the distance with a Road-Way-Station. “Might I enquire as to what has occurred in my absence?” Sin asked nervously.
“We had the lantern. We questioned Drake. Things went wrong. He escaped with the damned thing. We need to catch up with him before he can screw us more.” The Witch’s words were sharp as razors and clipped.
“Oh dear,” Sin muttered as he fiddled with the tattered edge of his damaged sleeve. “Is that the only source of your foul mental state?”
The Witch spun to face Sin. “Of course it is!” she snapped, but Sin knew a lie when he heard one. The Witch spun away from Sin to stomp toward the Road-Way-Station, her fists balled in her pockets. “Now, shut your hole and stay out of my way,” she said in a much calmer tone.
Sin followed the Witch through the doors into a small brick shack. Within the door, the space was lit with flickering Lumina Myst crystals. Eight feet from the door was a small wooden desk operated by a ceangar. The man was reading a porn magazine while chewing on a toothpick. His sandy brown hair fell in a wavy tussle around his gently pointed ears. When the desk operator looked up, he hurried to stow his dirty magazine under the desk. “Greets. How can I help a lovely couple such as…” the Ceangar trailed off as he finally noticed Sin. “Yourselves.” This last word was said in a disgruntled tone, as if he was already fed up with the interaction.
The Witch slapped her hand down on the desk. “We need a mid-sized to large aerial vehicle. Armored. Plenty of storage. Preferably armed.”
“Okay, okay,” the Ceangar said, casually waving a hand in placation. “Seals and certs, please.”
The Witch pulled up her therra’s heads-up display before flicking her public profile to the man. He skimmed over it before whistling at something. “Lady, you’ve got enough pilot seals to be a ride-or-die junky.” He closed the window and pulled up something on his own therra. Maybe some databasis of his stock, Sin thought. The Ceangar’s eyes skimmed the new document. “Yeah. I’ve got a pair of Falcon Wings, lightly armed, high speed. Or we’ve got a Sky Orca, heavy armor, tons of storage. We’ve a Storm Raven ready to go, mid armor, mid storage, lightly armed. Or, if you can wait a day or two, we have a Fleet Roc due to come in. Plenty of storage and armor as well as armed to the teeth.” The desk man gave a wide grin, clearly hoping the Witch would take the Fleet Roc.
“I’ll take the Storm Raven,” the Witch said as she unstrapped her coin purse from her hip. “How much?”
The Ceangar winced. “Sorry, Miss, but clat payments are against local store policy. We only accept credits.”
The Witch sneered at her coin purse in irritation. The desk man leaned in and cupped a hand around his mouth as he muttered in a foux whisper. “I mean, I could accept it under the table.”
“No way, schiz-ball,” the Witch said firmly, a note of threat in her words. “I know this scam. You’ll take the coin and report the ride as stolen. I don’t need guard on my ass along with everything else.”
The Ceangar leaned back in his chair and propped his short legs on the just-as-short desk. “Well, if you’re against that offer, I could accept…a favor,” he made a crude gesture with both hands, indicating his intent for sex.
“Dude,” the Witch warned, folding her arms across her chest and giving the man a disgusted and offended look. “My legs aren’t that loose, and I’m not that desperate for the ride. If you were to get anywhere between my legs, I’d crush your head between my thighs like a melon.”
The Ceangar laced his fingers together behind his head as he gave another whistle before turning the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “I mean, if I had to pick a way to go, between a hot chick’s thighs is easily in my top three.”
“You’re a pig,” the Witch spat before turning around and grabbing Sin by the arm. She dragged Sin toward the door as she snapped over her shoulder, “We’ll be back with the coin, sleeze-bag, and I’m bringing company.”
“Remember, only creds!” The Ceangar shouted after them.
Vex roughly tugged Sin along as they made their way back to the Wayward’s Inn. “Why did we leave the establishment without our required vehicle?” Sin asked.
“Because I can guarantee that I don’t have the creds for anything he’s offering,” The Witch explained. “Most of my coin is in deckra coinage, not digital credits. We’ll need your damn sister’s support with this, and we’re burning time.”
“I see.” Sin said as he staggered to keep up with the Witch. “And may I ask why you don’t have the mechanical drone device?”
“Because Sparky’s in my hat. The hat I handed over to Ex to clean up a pair of messes,” the Witch muttered, only barely loud enough to hear.
“Ah,” Sin said. He had more questions. Many more questions. Yet, he would need to wait. The Witch seemed to be in no mood for answers.
“Damn it!” The Witch hissed. “I am beyond sick and tired of this global currency war. Coin or credits bullshit. Gods, I hate corps.”
The pair made it back to the inn with little effort and no misfortune, which Sin took as a boon. What a life he was living to find joy in simply not having something unpleasant happen. By this time, Sin’s arm was regrown down to the wrist, his suit almost whole again.
The Witch stormed through the front doors of the Wayward’s Inn, crossed the common area, and stomped up the stairs with enough force that Sin suspected she was shaking dust to falling along the underside of those stairs. Sin hurried to follow the enraged woman, his steps lighter and more staggering. Once the pair arrived in front of the teams' rooms, the Witch pounded on the Soulforged’s door, then the Vhenari’s door received the same treatment.
The three other lance-mates stepped from the Vhenari’s room. “You get the ride?” the Soulforged asked.
“No,” the Witch groused as she snatched her hat from the metal man. “Damned bastard is only taking credits. Plus, he offered to let me have it if I boinked him.
“Gross,” the Soulforged said with obvious disgust.
“Yeah,” the Witch agreed. “Now we need to head down there as a lance. We’ll need to use the boss lady’s damn creds,” the Witch reached into her hat and pulled out the SP4RK drone and tossed it into the air where it caught itself. “We need to hurry,” she turned to her brother. “Tro, bring the van around. We’re piling in and driving down there to have a chat with that pig of a man.”
The Neoform gave a nod of confirmation before heading downstairs. The Witch watched her brother go before turning back to the rest of the lance. “He won’t be long. Let’s head down and wait for him.”
The group left moved down to the common area, turned in their keys with the receptionist, and stepped outside. The sky had quickly filled with thick and churning clouds, blotting out the stars and moons Sin had only just been looking at not even a full hour ago. Lightning flashed within the churning storm, the thunder a dull, rolling bellow. As if that thunderclap was a signal, the sky began to weep. First a few droplets, then a smattering, then came the soaking downpour.
Trouble rolled around the street corner and pulled up alongside the soggy lance. Vex dragged herself into the lead passenger seat while the other three piled into the back. As Ill Omen made their way to the Road-Way-Station, the lightning streaking through the sky only grew in frequency. Sin knew that this was no normal storm.
