Torg Eternity – Dead Legion
The Ghost Lives
Later today, early tomorrow, sometime next week…
…the world began to end.
Cairo – Nile Empire
Gunshots in the distance. It was a regular thing in downtown Cairo. The distance from the seat of Pharaoh Mobius's power seemed to encourage a very active criminal underworld into springing up. Part of him absently thought, trying to place the particular sound. If it was from the gats used by gangsters, or MK-40's from shocktroopers fighting gangsters, or shocktroopers fighting Mystery Men.
Another part of him asked if he should be out there helping Mystery Men.
How long it had been since the Mystery Men came from Terra, to stop that world's greatest villain from making his greatest conquest of all time? How many of those storied heroes had spread out all over Egypt to battle the pharaoh's forces?
How much difference had they actually made?
He was still trying to remember when a dark shape swung down from above and kicked him in the chin.
His world turned into a blur of colors as he was knocked off his feet from the terrific blow and landed on a wooden chair, flattening it. Instincts took over, and he somersaulted to the middle of the apartment and got to his feet. Just in time to see his black-clad assailant swing into the apartment and charge him. They took a punch at his head but he juked to his right and slammed his own fist into the intruder's face.
They staggered, giving him the few precious seconds he needed to grab his attacker by the lapels and throw them over his head. Into the shelves fastened to the wall, smashing them to bits.
Suddenly the intruder seemed to recover and kicked him hard in the stomach. A strangled gasp of pain was squeezed out of his lungs by the impact, and before he could get his breath back the shadowy assailant had him in a sleeper hold. The edges of his vision were starting to darken but he let out a fierce cry and slammed his elbow into the intruder's side. Their arms roughly unwrapped from around his throat and he twisted with all his might to get free. The intruder tried to grab him into the sleeper hold again but he managed to throw them off and nipped to the side of the room.
His attacker was between him and where the guns were hidden, but there was a telltale glint of metal out of the corner of his eye, over where the smashed shelves lay as a heap of kindling. Suddenly he feinted one way, his attacker moved to block him, and he threw himself at the remains of a wooden box and grabbed an ornate curved dagger there, its handle made of silver and studded with obsidian and pearls.
"You've still got that little trophy of yours, huh, Ghost?" his attacker chuckled.
It didn't even take him a second to place the voice. "Damn it, Hakim…" he cursed.
The dark-clad assailant pulled of his hood, revealing a ruddy-faced Arab with a long black mustache. "They say we remember our first time the most fondly," Hakim went on. "And I heard the Dagger was a pretty tough customer. Would've taken a tough hero to deal with him."
Ghost picked up his cigarette packet, knocked off the night table and apparently stepped on in the struggle, and put a bent cigarette between his lips. The lighter flickered twice before catching, and he sighed while he lit the tip of his cigarette, adding having to get more lighter fuel to his endless list of things he needed to do. The first puff went right into Hakim's face. "A tough hero did deal with him."
"You know that's not who I mean, Ghost," Hakim replied, calmly waving the smoke away from his nose.
Ghost didn't seem to be listening, slumping down on the bed, the Dagger's dagger still clutched in one hand and the cigarette in the other. Eying the infamous blade, Hakim kept his distance. Still, he raised his voice, "Forget the jokes. Something very dangerous is on its way to Cairo. We need someone who can sneak past the pharaoh's troops to get it. With a power like that thing has, there's no telling what kinds of twisted things the pharaoh might do."
"Is that as specific as you're gonna get?" Ghost retorted, puffing on his cigarette again, but not blowing into Hakim's face.
Hakim raised an eyebrow, but answered. "It's a jewel. A search party of the pharaoh's found it in an old manor in the middle of Orrorsh-dominated territory. They say it beats like a heart, and it sucked the life out of the royal wizard leading the expedition when he activated it, thinking it would give him power."
"What was the pharaoh doing sending a search party into Orrorsh?" Ghost mumbled. "I thought these…" he gesticulated with his cigarette for a second, searching for the right term.
His conversation partner gave it to him. "High Lords."
Ghost grunted in affirmation. "…High Lords, were supposed to be buddies. But the pharaoh's spying on one of them."
"You know the pharaoh better than to think he has friends as powerful as he is," Hakim retorted. Ghost shrugged, then looked at Hakim with a glower. Hakim went on, "That jewel must never make it to the pharaoh's laboratories."
"I suppose you heard the route they're taking when you were listening through that keyhole of yours."
With a nod, Hakim answered, "Yes, and you know the desert better than any of those Mystery Men. All the times you chased villains to secret hideouts out there."
A wave of Ghost's hand cut off his heavy-handed attempt to remind the hero. "That's not a compliment," Ghost groaned. "But fine, I'll do it if, it'll shut you up. One jewel and a couple shocktroopers? Kid stuff." He started to get up, then stopped himself. "Tell you what, get the boys and meet me by the Red Pony in two hours."
"As long as you're not going to ask me to buy you a round."
Ghost shook his head. "It's just a landmark. I've got a plan I'll tell you boys after you meet me there," he answered. Then added, "You're crazy if you expect me to walk all the way out to a hideout in the middle of the desert." Without even needing to turn and see it, he reached onto the remains of the shelves by the door and picked up his trademark grey fedora then put it on. Inwardly, Hakim was relieved to see this response. He'd been afraid his friend would've been sucked into a bottle after what he'd just been through. But when duty called, Ghost had to answer.
Swinging himself out of bed, the adventurer started going from side to side in the small apartment, picking up pieces of equipment. Binoculars from the bookshelf. A Colt .45 from a secret compartment under a floorboard. Another pistol from an innocuous niche in the corner of the ceilng. Hakim cleared his throat.
"Yes?" Ghost asked over his shoulder.
"I don't care what the rest of those Mystery Men who came with you say. I don't blame you for what happened," Hakim said, quietly and solemnly.
Ghost stood in the middle of the apartment without saying a word for a minute. Then another. Then another. He walked back over to the bookshelf and opened his copy of Pharaoh Mobius's biography, two full clips falling out. He loaded both of his pistols and got a belt with a holster on each side out from under the sofa.
Lastly, a grey mask from under his pillow.
"I know," Ghost said.
With a last look back, Hakim slipped out of the apartment to let Ghost finish his preparations.
A roar from its rugged engine, and the jeep peeled away into the desert. No-one tried to stop it, since most of the military camp's personnel were rushing over to see where the cloud of smoke and loud bangs were coming from. Hakim and his brothers were already scattering into the shadows, their vital job of creation a diversion done with some carefully-placed bombs.
Once he was sure none of the swarming shapes from the military camp were coming after him, Ghost faded back into view in the driver's seat. Shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, once white but permanently stained brown with all the dust he'd picked up on his adventures. Grime-caked khaki pants, scuffed leather boots, black gloves and his trusty fedora. The only thing he wore that wasn't decorated with the dirt of twenty different adventures was the grey mask that covered his eyes.
Maybe it was a stupid thing to do, turning invisible to hijack a military jeep. How many people in Cairo could turn invisible? Wouldn't that make the Ghost the immediate suspect of a military vehicle driving off by itself? On the other hand, Egypt had become a very strange place under Pharaoh Mobius, and Ghost was sure he'd run into an actual ghost one of these days. He hoped it didn't try to kill him when that day came.
But he had enough to worry about without thinking of the future.
Parking behind a high dune, Ghost unfolded the map Hakim had passed him and took a look at it to make sure he got it right the first time. The route marked in red ink showed the expedition he was supposed to intercept going past the ruins known locally as the Fingers of Isis, after the idol of a regal woman which was one of the few things still mostly intact there. No-one knew who she was supposed to be. When Doctor Mobius and the other High Lords had invaded Earth, his Nile Empire formed over Earth's Egypt. And strangely, that combination had the effect of relics from versions of Egypt unknown to either world appearing in the sands. The Fingers of Isis ruins were one of them.
He knew the location; it'd been where he and Angel had tracked the Claw. They'd chased a few villains into hideouts into the desert like that, actually. It was usually the mark of a low-level mastermind, Angel had explained to him.
Tough criminals have hideouts in town, she'd whispered as they lay on the dunes overseeing the ruins. The city has other gangs, royal troops, heroes. If a villain hides out far away from all that, it means he's afraid of getting raided by someone more powerful than he is, she said. Ghost nodded along, knowing the sense it made better than ever now.
He caught himself nodding along to Angel's old words and shook his head hard. Ghost had to focus on right now. Not back on the days with Angel. Angel was gone.
As impossible as it still was for him to believe.
With the ruins being on a high hill and with some walls of an ancient temple still standing, it was a good defensible spot. The expedition he was going to intercept would probably stop there for the night for that reason.
And Ghost would be waiting for them.
The sky was turning a deep orange as the mighty orb of the sun sank over the horizon, Ghost drove in a long arc toward the Fingers of Isis instead of straight there, to try to avoid being seen in case the expedition was already at the ruins. Even if the trip back from Orrorsh had whittled down their numbers like Hakim said, Ghost wanted some idea of what he was up against before he acted. Colonel Cairo would probably drive straight up and start smashing everyone in sight with that ball and chain of his…but they'd asked someone with a more delicate touch.
He stopped as soon as he had a decent view of the temple. A covered troop truck was parked there already, and even before he got out his binoculars Ghost could see people milling around the site. Once he did, their rifles and the unmistakable combination of sandals, loincloth and striped headdress identified them as Nile Empire shocktroopers, the pharaoh's rank-and-file fighters. Two of them were patrolling in a circle around the truck. Ghost was already sure the jewel was secured inside.
Another hour or so and it would be dark, and his powers would be most effective then. Ghost pulled back the slides on his .45's so they'd be ready when he needed them, lit a cigarette, and settled back to wait.
Rows of drummers on both sides of the walkway pounded at their instruments in perfect, maddening synch. Between them walked the priest, clad in a hooded red robe and holding up his sacrificial knife. The handle was a menacing green, etched to resemble the open jaws of a crocodile at the base of the blade.
And tied to the altar at the end of the walkway was a blonde woman in a white mask and costume, drugged into silence.
Angel.
"Mighty Sebek," called the priest.
"MIGHTY SEBEK!" echoed the cult.
The priest spun the knife in his hand, casting reflections of the torchlight all over the chamber. One shone right into Ghost's eyes in his hiding place, and he almost let out a gasp that gave himself away.
But he held it in.
"Open your jaws," called the priest, "that we may offer the soul of a mighty enemy!"
"DEVOUR YOUR ENEMIES!"
A devilish grin formed on the priest's face, and his followers gave a howl of bloodlust that echoed around the room. Ghost had to cover his ears while he watched for an opening. Nothing had presented itself; there must've been fifty cultists in that room. Even the bravest of Mystery Men would've called that suicidal.
Ghost might've too, if he hadn't heard footsteps behind him and turned around to see a pair of muscular cultists coming up fast. He got in the first punch, knocking the closer one off-balance. But the second cultist got in a much harder punch right into Ghost's stomach and squeezed the air out of his lungs like a bellows. The masked adventurer managed to stay on his feet and kicked the second cultist as hard as he could. By then the first had recovered and put Ghost in a half nelson from behind.
Throwing his arms wide, the priest turned in place, letting all of his followers meet eyes with him. He turned back to where Angel was trapped, and called out, "Grant your favor to us, your faithful!"
"WE ARE THE FAITHFUL!"
While the one cultist held Ghost the other punched him in the stomach again and brought back his other fist for another attack. At the same time he threw his punch Ghost twisted his body and spun the cultist holding him into the one taking the punch. Both slammed into the wall, and Ghost didn't bother checking to see if they were still conscious before he ran out into the main ceremonial chamber.
He was already too late. With lightning speed the priest plunged his sacrificial blade into Angel's heart. She was so deeply sedated she didn't even move as her life dribbled out of the wound.
That was when the horrible cry of victory went up. All the cultists screamed and shook their arms toward the ceiling at the death of one of the masked heroes. One by one they fell silent in confusion at a louder scream overpowering theirs.
"MURDERERS!"
He was aiming mainly at the priest but the lesser cultists formed a human wall, gladly dropping dead so their leader could live. It wasn't an opportunity he wasted: the priest seized a golden amulet with a hieroglyph engraved into the front and yelled something Ghost couldn't hear over the angered shouting of the cult.
Yet the effect was unmistakable. The massive stone idol of a crocodile-headed man crouched behind the altar stood up with a horrific rumble and stomped toward Ghost's forward. Sebek's likeness crushed a few of "the faithful" under its massive feet, its dark gem eyes focused only on Ghost.
Who froze in terror as he realized the tomb was protected by one of the dreaded Walking Gods. Not for the first time in his life, Ghost wished he could just disappear.
But for the first time, he actually did.
The Walking God statue stopped and looked around, bewildered by the masked intruder suddenly vanishing in front of his eyes. Ghost jumped to the floor and just when he felt like he was about to burst he became visible again. The Walking God swung a giant stone fist but before it could make impact, Ghost disappeared from sight again. Its punch shook the walls, making the cult yell in fear and try to climb over each other to escape.
Ghost reappeared on the other side and the Walking God took another punch at him. Just before Ghost was about to be smashed, he vanished and the idol's fist punched another crater in the wall.
Which made half the ceiling crumble down on top of the idol of Sebek.
The terrified screams of the cultists filled Ghost's ears as he ran up the stairway to the surface, escaping the collapsing tomb in the nick of time.
Leaving Angel to be buried along with her killers.
Suddenly Ghost's eyes snapped open from pain shooting up his arm, causing him to grab for his gun, sure he was under attack. Instead he was only looking up at a starry night sky. No schocktroopers had their guns pointed at his face. His cigarette had fallen on his arm and his shirt was still smoking. That was all.
He grabbed his binoculars and aimed them at the ruins. He counted all five shocktroopers in a matter of seconds and let out a sigh of relief. Two were still guarding the truck, confirming to Ghost that was where the cargo was secured. The other three were gathered around a lantern, shooting dice on a board they'd laid down on the sand.
Time to move out. He stepped out of the jeep and vanished from sight. Against the darkness of the desert he was undetectable while he ran to the encampment. When Ghost got to the bottom of the hill he dropped and leopard-crawled up the side on his belly. Guided by the glow of the soldiers' lantern he got behind what remained of a column and peered around the side. The three shocktroopers at the dice game were still in easy view of the ones guarding the truck, but after a few minutes one of the truck guards snapped at them.
"Enough playing around, you three! Sweep the perimeter again!"
Nile Empire shocktroopers were just like any other bunch of goons, Ghost chuckled to himself. Unless someone scarier was looking over their shoulder, they'd do whatever amused them. With them splitting up to check the ruins, he had the chance he needed, and got up as one of the soldiers walked by the column where he was hiding.
Looking around, the schocktrooper of course didn't see anything suspicious. After he was sure they were out of sight of the other troops, Ghost jogged up behind the one in front of him and pistol-whipped him on the back of the head. The masked adventurer became visible again as he lunged forward, one hand covering the shocktrooper's mouth to silence the groan he made, and the other arm looping around his chest to keep him from falling down and making any noise.
One down, four to go, Ghost thought as he stashed the insensate shocktrooper in the shadowy corner of a ruined wall. Slowly he went around the edge of the wall, scanning for the route of the next shocktrooper, and Ghost was a little surprised to see his target coming around the outside corner. As soon as the shocktrooper passed the edge of the wall, Ghost sank his fist into the soldier's stomach. A soft gasp was all the pharaoh's loyal soldier managed before Ghost knocked him flat with a surprise punch to the face, then dragged him into the darkness next to his comrade.
For a few seconds a weird feeling filled Ghost, and he realized he was actually feeling proud of the work he was doing. Why should that seem unfamiliar? Had Angel's death affected him that much?
All of a sudden he stopped, hearing footsteps against the sand. The third shocktrooper, who'd been patrolling and was coming up the other way to meet the one Ghost had just knocked out. An effort of will was all it took and he turned invisible again.
Silently he stepped out of the moonlight and into the darkness. After a minute another shocktrooper stepped between some of the old pillars, moving slowly and looking around suspiciously at not seeing his partner coming to meet him. Quickly Ghost moved forward and threw a punch at the back of the shocktrooper's neck to silence him.
It might have been a bit too quickly. The invisible adventurer's fist hit the shocktrooper but the solder rolled with the impact and spun around, training his machine gun at the source of the attack. His finger pulled back on the trigger but it never fired. An unseen foot slammed into the shocktrooper's stomach.
"Show yourself, devil!" the soldier wheezed. His opponent did, not a devil of the sands like he might've been expecting, but a grim masked foreigner flickering into existence in response to his wish. The soldier tried to aim his machine gun but was just a second too slow. Ghost was on top of him and clenched both fists together as he slammed them into the shocktrooper's jaw with a blow so powerful it actually lifted him off the ground.
Which unfortunately carried the soldier into the ancient wall Ghost had hidden the others behind. The end of it cracked and collapsed with a noise that could be heard all the way across ruins.
"What was that noise?!"
There went the element of surprise.
Out in the desert a robed traveler on horseback spied the ruins through a battered brass telescope. They watched the last two shocktroopers guarding their truck run around to the same side, sweeping their guns through the area looking for a target. Neither moved away from the truck but they'd left it unguarded on one side. With a whistle the traveler started their horse toward the ruins.
By the time a winner had emerged in whatever battle was taking place inside the ruins, they'd have the Heart and be gone.
"Show yourself! There is no hiding from the eye of Pharaoh Mobius!"
"Alright, they asked for it." An invisible finger squeezed the trigger of an invisible Colt. He aimed for the soldier with the more decorative headdress, figuring him to be the captain. It seemed there was a reason he was the captain, however. As soon as he heard the pistol fire he grabbed his subordinate and held the unlucky shocktrooper in front of him. A strangled gasp of betrayal marked the end of the soldier's life.
Ghost fired two more times, sending up pillars of dust when the bullets hit the ground just behind the captain as he ran. The soldier scrambled into the armored cab of the truck and slammed the door behind him. He leaned out the window and sprayed bullets of his own into the darkness. "The prize will never be yours!" he shouted, then fired blindly again.
Bullets only glanced off the half-tumbled wall Ghost was using for cover. Still, if he showed himself, he was as good as dead. And with how fast the shots were coming, invisibility might not help much. If only…
If only he had another way of sneaking up on the last soldier than just going straight across the yard. What about the last time he'd been out there?
Another salvo of bullets tore across the ruins, digging pock marks that would've give any archeologist fits. The last shocktrooper wasn't worried about what the stuffy academics in the pharaoh's court would think about a few bullet holes. His thoughts were on the living hells Pharaoh Mobius would send him to if anything happened to the artifact. What else could their attacker be after?
The empty magazine went spinning out the window to land in the sand. With all the speed his training had given him the soldier loaded another and cocked his weapon. Which was why he didn't hear the cock of the .45 over his shoulder before it shredded into his own weapon. The MP-40 was torn off its shoulder strap and smashed itself into a pile of shattered junk against the door. Gunsmoke and the heat from tip of the barrel against his neck warned him not to try anything.
"You're going to be reasonable and open the back for me, and we're not going to have any more trouble," Ghost informed him. "Get your hands up and don't try anything funny, or I'll just open it by myself. Am I perfectly clear?"
"Perfectly."
"Good," Ghost answered. "Now move backward and step out of the truck on my side, and I'll be a lot more inclined to let you keep your head where it is."
Muttering mental curses on this infidel's ancestors, the shocktrooper captain slid backward as he'd been ordered. "How did you get around this truck, anyway? I had a view of the entire square."
"You're not the first lowlife to hide out in this temple," Ghost grunted, and the captain saw a trapdoor in the ground next to the door truck. "The Claw had a hideout in the tunnels underneath here." He waved his .45 menacingly and the captain let Ghost lead him around to the back of the truck. "Now get the keys and open it up," Ghost said and took a step away to give him room to work.
Moving slowly so as not to give Ghost a reason to shoot him, the captain nodded and got a keyring off his belt. A twist in the lock and the truck's loading door fell open. He turned to face Ghost, his hands in the air but an evil sneer suddenly on his lips. "You'll never escape if you do this, you know," the captain warned. "The pharaoh never forgets a slight."
Ghost stepped forward and the shocktrooper captain stepped back. "I'm not scared of worthless thugs like you and your little pals," the adventurer retorted.
"The pharaoh's vengeance doesn't only rely on the strength of men," laughed the captain.
That was when the leathery hands wrapped themselves around Ghost's throat.
Evil cackling like Ghost had heard all too many times even in his brief career as a masked crimefighter came from the shocktrooper captain. A ghastly creature slipped around the edge of the truck to stand behind the soldier. It was the size and shape of a man, wearing a tattered brown military uniform and striped headdress. However its face was covered in withered black skin, its eyes were totally white, and it had yellowed claw-like fingernails like the ones pressing into his windpipe. Ghost had heard about these awful creatures, but never seen one himself.
Gospog. The horrible living dead soldiers, whose creation was a gift to the other High Lords from the most evil one out of all those loathsome conquerors.
He didn't have any doubt another one, just as awful, was what was squeezing the breath out of him.
It was getting to be a struggle to breathe, and the captain was cackling and grinning even more fiendishly. A labored cough escaped Ghost's cracked lips.
But suddenly he could see Angel's face, completely impassive after the cult had drugged her.
He threw a punch over his shoulder as hard as he could. The revolting undead's grip on his throat weakened. The shocktrooper captain suddenly stopped laughing.
Ghost turned, grabbed the gospog's leathery wrists and kicked the decaying horror away. The masked adventurer whipped around and fired three shots into the gospog's chest, but it shambled a few steps to attack again so he fired his last bullet into its forehead. Finally the horrible thing went down.
Tossing aside his empty pistol, Ghost drew his dagger and stabbed the compact blade into the chest of the shocktrooper rushing to attack him, screaming a warcry that died in his throat. Ghost kicked the body of the last soldier off his weapon and was grabbing for his other .45 to deal with the second gospog. It lifted its arms to crush his throat like the first had tried.
Without any warning there was the sound of a shot. Something splashed all over the gospog and its decayed body started to burn. Not having any idea what was going on but knowing better than to ignore a break, Ghost jumped into the truck. Inside was a small metal box, strapped to the floor and surrounded by mystic symbols painted around it, probably to hold in whatever power was contained in the box after it killed the expedition's expert in the supernatural.
A few swipes of his dagger cut through the straps and he picked up the box, figuring he'd have to risk the wrath of whatever was inside if another enemy was attacking the gospogs. Ghost had heard of the terrors lurking in Orrorsh, and if one had come to reclaim its treasure he didn't intend to stick around and give it the chance. He drew his other pistol for whatever good it might do as he tucked the box under his other arm and got ready to jump out and make a run for the jeep.
His feet had just hit the ground when Ghost realized there wasn't some slavering beast with a hundred eyes and twelve hands out there like he'd been expecting. Instead it was a human, wearing a long leather coat and holding a shiny rifle with an enormous drum like a revolver near the butt.
A rifle aimed at Ghost's head. "This weapon was meant for slaying monsters, but it'll take a human life just as easily. What is your interest in the Heart?" demanded the person.
First, Ghost aimed his own gun at them before he answered, "I came to stop this from falling into Doctor Mobius's hands. If I have to kill to do that, I will."
"Do you have any idea what you have there?"
Ghost tightened his grip on his weapon enough to make the firing mechanism give off a threatening click. "If a High Lord wants it, that's enough reason for me to make sure he doesn't get it," he replied.
A moment passed, but the mysterious person lowered their rifle. "Then I think your goals and mine might be compatible," she said. Yes, Ghost was a little surprised to recognize a woman, but a woman who'd obviously seen some harrowing adventures. A livid scar ran down one cheek, and a streak of white went through her close-cropped black hair. "To whom do I owe the capture of that evil treasure?" the woman asked.
"I go by 'the Ghost'."
She quirked an eyebrow that had the same white streak through it. "A strange name for a man, even a brave one."
"Well, there are a lot of brave men around here who go by unusual names," Ghost replied, lowering his own weapon.
The woman nodded. "I suppose I would not know. I came from very far, to locate the Heart of Drakul, which you have there."
"Who are you? What do they call brave women where you're from?"
An odd look came over her face, and Ghost thought maybe she looked a little self-conscious at the question. "My name is Sophia…Black. Sophia Black," she repeated it, as if assuring herself that was the right answer.
He walked over and offered her his hand, which she looked down at with confusion, so he lowered it to his side again. "Well then, Miss Black, let's get back to town."
Returning to Cairo was much less exciting than leaving it. Once he'd driven the jeep into a seedy part of town Ghost ditched it. A rugged vehicle like that had made the trip into the desert a quick one, but a stolen military vehicle would paint a target on him. He was one who favored a stealthy approach.
Besides that, he was sure he had enough trouble on his hands with the treasure he and his new companion had stolen from the pharaoh's forces.
Following a winding trail through the Cairo slums led them down a short flight of stairs to a heavy wooden door. Ghost banged on it with his fist. Two quick knocks, then a hard one. A slit opened at the top and a pair of eyes peered through. "What do you think you're doing here in the middle of the night?" a gruff voice demanded.
"Dropping off the cargo you sent me into the desert to find," Ghost retorted, indicating the box under his arm.
Immediately the door flew open, and Hakim stood on the other side in his night shirt. "You go it?!" he asked in disbelief. "Come in, quick! Before somebody sees you!" When they entered like he requested, Hakim eyed Sophia. "Ghost? Who's your friend?"
The masked adventurer didn't answer until he sat at the table in Hakim's front room. "Hakim, meet Sophia Black. She's a monster slayer from a world called Gaea."
"How do you do?" Sophia asked conversationally.
"I…do," Hakim replied, eying the formidable-looking woman up and down, blinking quickly like he wasn't quite sure he wasn't still dreaming.
Ghost placed the box on top of the table and popped the lid. Inside was a glowing stone the shape of a human heart. The stone was dark red, run through with blue veins. Every few seconds it throbbed with light and made an unsettling noise, exactly like a heartbeat but seeming to echo as if it were beating for multiple hearts at once. "What is this thing?" he asked.
"It is the Heart of Drakul," Sophia replied. "Legend says it has the power to draw the very life out of living souls. Those with knowledge of the blackest arts could use it to prolong their own lives."
"That's not all it is," said a voice from the top of the stairs. Ghost's hands instinctively went to his guns, considering for just a second that his old friend had led him into a trap. However, he stopped when he saw the voice's owner coming down the stairs from the balcony. It was a man getting into his high-thirties, wearing a tan suit and fedora. His face was unremarkable, decorated only by a short black beard. "That right there's what we call an Eternity Shard. An artifact with energies that embody creation. Life itself, if you will," explained the man.
Hakim stood by Ghost's side. "I'm sorry, friend. For not telling you the whole truth. He's the one who told me to get your help in recovering the treasure."
The bearded man made a dismissive "pffft" noise out of one side of his mouth. "I'm sure there's no need to defend yourself, Hakim. Ghost wants the same thing the Delphi Council does. He proved that when he got straight to work as soon as you told him about the mission."
With a very tired voice, Ghost replied, "I remember that's what you said the first time." He gave the man in the suit as sharp a look as he could manage with a mask on. "Deputy Director Nakatomi."
Hearing he was remembered made the man smile. Just a little, but it seemed to suck the tension out of the room. "Yes, I did. I was hoping you'd considered my offer since last time, Ghost."
Sophia stepped up the intruder, still eying him suspiciously. "Ghost, who is this man? What does he want with the Heart?"
Deputy Director Nakatomi answered for himself. "Miss Black, I represent an organization called the Delphi Council that works to undermine the villains who've invaded Earth. We do that with the help of powerful heroes like yourself, and Ghost here. Because the way things are looking, folks like you are the only thing that'll save this planet from being sucked dry by the High Lords of Possibility."