IN COLLABORATION WITH- okay this is getting annoying...
I OWN NOTHING IN THIS FANFICTION EXCEPT FOR MY OCs. I DON'T OWN MUCH OF ANYTHING WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT...
This chapter opens with a bird's eye view of the circular capital city of Planeptune. Briefly showing the geometrically impossible shapes of the massive mostly glass skyscrapers and their flawlessly standing structures, as they T-pose their dominance over anything shorter than them. It also showed how obscure some of the roofs were.
Ignoring the massive Basilicom at the centre, many of the buildings had slanted or coned rooftops instead of the more rare flat tops most would be accustomed to. Not too sure what the advantages of such designs are. but I'm gonna assume it helps with things such as wind and earthquakes, outside of just looking cool that is.
After nearly twenty seconds of panning through Dubai- I mean Planeptune, we pause on one of the flat rooftops. There we spot nothing in particular.
Until the camera pans in further down to the rooftop enough to sit at around eye level for the average person. Then, we still saw nothing but an empty roof. Bland of anything to even waver your attention from your phone to it.
This was precisely what a certain grey-haired individual wanted. The same individual who was right in front of where the camera panned to.
The only reason he wasn't seen was simply that he didn't want to be. And thanks to the dome of screens he sat in, that was what happened.
Right in front of the camera, sat a dome. A dome of grey screens that all floated in grey rain flies(this is referring to those white specs that dance across the screens of those old big back TVs) that made up the areas that weren't the monitors themselves. All in the same language that we saw in the hologram projected from the orb IV. held in his hand a couple of chapters ago. Except for this time, it's not one orb producing these holograms, instead, they all seemed to exist without any source of the sort.
And seated in an RMB Crit 500 gaming chair, an old-looking man in hooded red robes was at the dome's centre typing on nothing. Only his nose and lips were shown through the shadows on his face provided by the hood he adorned, yet his grey eyes were still visible enough to show the concentration he was using as he sent them dashing in all directions to track what his monitors displayed.
As the glyphs ran through the screens, the man's eyes would follow faster than a simp subscribing to the newest Only Cans account he saw. Whatever he was doing looked mighty impressive. With how he was effortlessly changing targets of interest and spinning on his chair occasionally to face the right monitor, he's made it clear that he was doing this for years. And was going to continue for quite a while.
"!" That was until just now when something out of nowhere sapped his attention from his monitors for just a second.
A wave of surprise washed over the man as a sound played in his head.
* Beep!*
The second he heard the noise his expression soured and a sigh was made. A moment later he reaches over to his right ear and pokes it with a finger. Looking way less concentrated and a lot more constipated as he did so.
* Beep!*
"What is it RYDER?" He asked after hearing the slightly lower-pitched beep.
"It seems they've entered the compound." A stern voice replied with a kind of static from the speaker in the receiver's ear. Sounding anywhere between barely eighteen and just over twenty-six in age.
The older male gave a face of "Are you fucking kidding me?" But refused to say the phrase in question. He instead decided on responding with a slightly annoyed tone.
"Took them long enough" He stated as he went back to dashing his pupils all over the place and dancing his fingers on an invisible keyboard.
"But it's only been thirty minutes though, Informer" RYDER deadpanned.
Again, The Watcher of screens decided on biting his tongue. 'I'm too old for this shit...' he mumbled internally instead as he sifted through an assortment of screens. Before focussing on one in particular, which looked to be a live camera feed of a hallway. A grayscale, tight corridor.
The place looked empty aside from the darkly dressed figure that stood a little ways away and an open doorway to which the figure faced. There wasn't much else to see aside from those. Probably thanks to the bank-level camera quality making the place look like a 1980s action film.
"They're only like this because I'm currently fighting for control over whether or not I can freaking see them..." The Informer informed the audience as to why his L setup was sucking mad pixels as he continued his silent struggle.
Speaking of shitty cameras and setups, there was another monitor that wasn't utter tartar in terms of what one could see on it. A display showing yet another empty hallway, unfortunately without a doorway or guard. Or any type of movement.
* Zoom! *
Well, that was before the sudden rush of black sped -I mean speed- lines did the race across the second-mentioned monitor. It lasted for only half a second in a smooth 23FPS, grabbing the Informer's attention (possibly) without even knowing it.
"Gottem." The male spoke simply, a crack of a smile appearing on his face when he said notified his supposed partner for the chapter.
"Where are they?!" RYDER asked inquisitively and almost immediately.
"..."
The questionee wasn't as quick to respond as the questioner. Saying nothing, the Informer merely observed in silence.
He watched closely as the black lines danced from the second monitor to the foremost-mentioned one. Pausing for only 12 frames behind the darkly dressed figure before knocking out the person. He then spent another 6 gently resting the unconscious figure on the ground and vanished into lines with the weapon once held by the now downed victim.
It wasn't a very long increment of time, but the speedy assailant had stopped long enough to reveal what he wore. his red hooded robes.
The Informer wanted to answer RYDER as instantly as he was asked. But he made a requirement to ensure to be right on the money first try. So he read the markings on the originally shown screen in the bottom right corner before responding.
/The Boss Of The Currently Stormed Building's Room/
"Shay, we've got company!" Another older gentleman exclaimed as he burst into the aforementioned location of this damned jumpcut.
The double doors he suddenly barged through banged as they hit the wall they rested on with a violent THUD! Taking the attention of this Shay person away from whatever he was doing.
"Finally, Monro."
Dressed in a dripped out white outfit that looked straight outta the 1780s British America, Shay Cormac kept a neutral expression as he sat in his office chair. He sounded like a 1780s Brittishman as much as he looked the part. His closed overcoat was a luxurious powder white that hid his deep red undershirt entirely, but not the popped collar. He also had silver arm bracers that each ran from his elbow to the wrists, and a pair of white gloves that covered his hands completely
"What could they be here so early for?" The older male asked with a hint of RYDER's inquisitivity, and a dash of concern, "We're yet to execute operation JailBait..."(No, it does not involve CFW trick fap material.)
So did the older male both sound and look like he grave-robbed Arno Victor Dorian if he was born way earlier. Save for his fixation for red and black instead of red and white, as carbon black made up most of his fit. The darker colour replaced where Shay's white would've been, but it did not make him any less fly with it.
"As a 'Criminal Organization', we attract those who don't want our congregation or assembly, George," The Cormac droned with a pointed finger and a suppressed smile.
You'd think it would be a given that those who indulge in illegal activity would be apprehended for such. But by the manner Monro was speaking, it sounded as though he was surprised by the not-so-friendly visit from VI. and IV. Now back to curious George over there.
"Watch your tone, boy," Monro play-scolded with a stifled snort, "Besides, we're more like a vigilante group than anything else..."
"We literally steal, hospitalize, and murder. Does that sound like we're on the right side of Jhonny law?" The dark-haired male said sarcastically.
"..." Monro deadpanned in silence from that, choosing to cease his self clowning session while he was still ahead. Allowing a nearby fan to blow his ear-length white hair for emphasis.
"Thought so," Ezio's distant half-great grand cousin folded his arms in amusement, "Anyway, let's see how long it takes them to get here!"
Shay sounded a wee bit too enthusiastic about all of this...
Even so, Monro only shook his head and took a seat in one of the four presumedly guest chairs in front the white man's desk.
"They're yet to kill any of our men so far," The white-haired of the two rationalized mostly to himself.
ALRIGHT!
I is are done, hope yall enjoyed it! This chapter felt a little weak in substance for me, then again it did show what I needed.
So if I add more chapters and see some errors that need fixing or some foreshadowing wasn't done, expect this chapter to suddenly double in words out of nowhere.
Anyways.
Ciao~
