My name is Wilson Pink.
"… Forgive me, for I have sinned. I would have come for confession earlier if I had not been so busy. Another sin, for which I need to be absolved, brother."
"I am glad that you are strong in your faith brother. But this is a tailor shop."
I knew that, so I slipped off my ring and slid the metal band across the smoothed surface of the wooden desk, for the scrutiny of the man sitting curiously behind it. A man dressed in a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing a rosary strapped around a forearm corded with iron muscle. A rosary bearing the image of a shrike bird stamped onto a coin dangling off the end of the beads.
"Oh." The man in the blue shirt said, before nodding and pushing the ring back towards me, "please, come this way."
Slipping the ring back onto my finger, I stepped aside and allowed the man to slip out from his seat and lead the way into the back of the shop. Through racks of jackets, a cluttered corridor, and finally through a set of red double doors, I stepped out of the musk of freshly sewn cloth, and into the rosemary tinged warmth of a busy soup kitchen.
"You know, brother," the man said to me as we pushed past a pantry and breakroom, "the chapel's entrance is on 2nd Fleet Street, half a block up. This here, where the tailor shop is? That's 1st Fleet."
I know that. Now. Still.
"Just wanted to get to know the area. I would have been down for services earlier. But things have been … hectic."
"No doubt, Wilson Pink;" The man said, to my astonishment, "taking down White Fang's 3rd best assassin during the Picture Town fire? The gunfight at the ferry terminal? The Hierarchy has thought that you had given up your ring, though. Swearing off the light of the Covenant for the rest of your days."
"The rumors have been greatly exaggerated," I clarified, adjusting the ring in question on my finger. "Just took a bit of a vacation, that's all."
"And you are, as they say, back in action?"
The man in blue stopped as we turned a corner and approached a plain, brown door.
"Eh," I said by way of reply.
"I see," The man noted, peering through the window set in the office door. "In any case, go right in, please. Father Bell Lin will see you."
Nodding, the man turned and disappeared the way we came as I knocked. And pushed through as a rough bass bade me enter.
"Hospitaller Wilson Pink; the Chapel of the Barbed Star has had word of your arrival in Vale. I knew it was a matter of time before we would finally meet."
The first thing I noticed about Father Bell Lin was the badge pinned to the collar of his grey, checked shirt. An iron disc, stamped with the image of a winged stallion. The second thing was the weathered masculinity that cloaked the lean, labour-hardened pastor; identified by the white collar that encircled his neck, hidden slightly by the magnificent beard trimmed along the iron bar that served as Father Lin's jaw.
"Father-Hussar Bell Lin," I recited as the man walked over from an overladen bookshelf and extended his hand palm down, which I grasped and kissed as I continued.
"My respects to one who leads with the Covenant's favor."
"And I offer sanctuary for one who serves the will of the Covenant." Father Lin replied. "You have made quite an impression in Vale, Wilson Pink. Enough to catch the eye of a General with an iron heart, and work with a criminal. An interesting predicament, for which you have come seeking … guidance? I assume?"
"You are well informed, Father Lin," I stated with some degree of surprise, which Father Lin caught on, judging by his reply.
"The Covenant connects all things, and those who actively tap into it can be tracked through the Web if one knows how. That is my duty, as both a member of the Hussars Chapter, and Chapel-Master of the Hierarchy's affairs in Vale after all."
My impression of Father Lin changed then; Tapping into the Covenant is a taxing experience, even for someone conditioned over decades to the energy's intensity. Yet to access the Web so extensively as to oversee all parties to the Covenant in any given area. And further having that area consisting of an entire city.
"Not to mention having an extensive network of informants through all walks of life in Vale." Father Lin added thoughtfully, "they are useful, spies. If deplorable in some cases."
Father Lin chuckled then and strolled over to lean against the fold-out work table occupied by a pile of papers, and an open laptop set to a screensaver of a black tabby cat.
"But that's enough of that; you're here to ask for aid. And as Chapel-Master, I am duty-bound to offer whatever aid I, and the Chapel, can offer within reason."
No need to stand on ceremony then, I thought before reaching into the breast pocket of my casual blazer, pulling out a green bullet and tossing it over to the Chapel-Master.
"Interesting," he said, "Barring the obvious fact, of course, is that this is a bullet."
"A bullet that can cut my access to the Covenant. Got shot with this a couple of weeks ago, I could not access the Covenant to heal until it was taken out of me. Even then it was hours before the Covenant's power acted to stop the blood loss. And two nights for me to recover fully. "
Father Lin's expression took on a thoughtful pallor.
"A weapon that can neutralize the Covenant's power. Who, or what, fired this bullet?"
"An android belonging to one James Ironwood. The 'General with an iron heart,' as you called him."
"Please! As if General Ironwood has the vision, or the capability to devise such a weapon." Father Lin countered, relishing the contempt in every word. "However, he may have access to Third Parties who may have helped him develop this bullet. That would coincide with the reports of increased heretical activity within the city limits these past months."
Argyle, and Neo, came to mind when Father Lin brought up the topic of Covenant Third Parties; people who could access a degree of the Covenant's powers. But not being formally part of the Hierarchy they can't perceive the Web, and affect it, like I or Father Lin can.
"Could someone who can't perceive the Web of the Covenant sever my access to the Web itself? Or affect my powers at any level?" I asked.
"Impossible! The only person who could possibly sever your access right now is me. But if I had to do that, I might as well just kill you and save myself the bother."
Yeesh.
"That's morbid. Wouldn't severing my access to the Web be a useful technique for you?"
Father Lin smiled, pushed himself back upright, and said.
"That would be true in theory. However, the connection we share to the Web is a two-way circuit; I could stop your access to the Web, but the power needed to stop the Web's access TO YOU, for any duration of time, would level an entire city block. Easy. There are less destructive ways to put you down if I had to."
That sounds like an avenue for further, personal research.
"In any case," Father Lin continued, "General Ironwood's 'silver bullet' will require further investigation, thank you for bringing it to my attention, brother Pink. Now, is there anything else you need?"
"Yes, well." I coughed, before clearing my throat and pushing forward. "You know that 'working for a criminal' bit you brought up earlier? Well, I have a job coming up, and I need a new suit."
I quailed beneath the force of Father Lin's disapproval as he asked, "Weapons?"
"Oh. I have something tucked away, although I might need your help for that in the future as well."
Father Lin's stare of disapproval continued for some time.
"There is a price for the Chapel's aid, whenever should you call upon it. Is that agreeable with you, brother Pink?"
"Of course, I am at your disposal."
Father Lin's features softened as he nodded once and guided me towards his office door.
"So be it. It is a good thing then that the Chapel had decided to expand into the tailor shop next door, considering your request. Isn't it, brother?"
"William! Hey man, you got a new mask? Love the new suit, elegant cut, especially along the shoulders."
I turned towards the speaker who slipped out from amongst the debris ringing the clearing that was within the storage section of the warehouse I was standing, and waiting, in. A menacingly rugged giant wearing armour over a sleeveless uniform that was as pale as his full-face mask. The giant had slung a huge sword, the threat of the weapon offset by the joviality set in his massive, chocolate-toned shoulders, and the nearly imperceptible skip in his stride.
I thought he had the wrong person until he came closer and raised his hands before him.
"You're the guy who jinxed that truck heist!" I finally recalled as the man chuckled in embarrassment, "you look like you got a promotion."
"Hell yeah I did! Sent six human cop scum to whatever they called gods, and got the goods from that heist back safely. Got promoted to lieutenant last week, with new clothes and all the perks. What do you think?"
"Well," I finally managed to say once the lieutenant walked around once with his arms outstretched, "It looks very intimidating."
"Awesome! Just what I was going for."
Time to change the subject.
"In any case, what's up tonight? There's a stage, a showpiece, and even catering when I came in earlier. Whose birthday is it?"
The lieutenant laughed.
"It's just a little orientation for new White Fang recruits; introductions, re-affirming our commitment to wresting the rights of all Faunus-kind from the human oppressors. Oh! And we have a bit of a raffle tonight actually; celebrating the one-month birthday for the kid of the lady who does our catering. First prize is a weekend cruise around the Cape of the Nesting Isles, down past Menagerie Island, and back into Vale harbour."
Who would want to go to fucking Menagerie of all places? I thought.
Oh, wait. FAUNUS-terrorist raffle. Right.
I was about to respectfully decline when Roman came crashing through; flipping through a set of cue cards and cursing as Neo jogged along behind while brushing his hat.
"Now, I'll be the first to admit, humans... are the worst. Case in point …" Roman read, before whirling on Neo. "I was supposed to start WITH a joke! Not be the BUTT of one damn it!"
Juggling both Roman's hat and her parasol, Neo single-handedly flipped through a series of gestures back at her superior's outburst.
"What the hell is self-deprecating humor?! Fuck it! Fine! We'll go with it, but this is the last time I let you write my speeches!"
Roman then turned towards the lieutenant and me.
"Lieutenant, I want you on crowd control. Mingle, don't be obtrusive, but be ready to move if necessary. Wilson, I want you on the gangways above the stage."
I snapped the headset and radio mid-flight as Roman tossed it to me, before continuing.
"Keep an eye out. And if you spot any trouble, notify either the Lieutenant or Neo. That clear? Good."
Roman then plucked his hat from Neo's hands before brushing past us towards the door leading to the section of the warehouse where I had seen the stage set up when I 'clocked in' earlier that evening.
The lieutenant then said to me, as both Roman and Neo left.
"Well, that's that then." The giant whistled and pointed towards the radio in my hands, asking. "In any case, do you know how to use that, Will?"