Chapter 27, Enforcer's Discovery
Murex flipped the matte card over in his hands idly as his lieutenant continued.
"Yeah, the visit wasn't much help. No one there seemed to know all that much outside of the normal hearsay rumor garbage that's always floating around." Greene leaned back and waved his hands in exaggerated fear. " Y'know, 'it's Atlas doin' evil experiments! Or it's the newest drug outta the Mistral drug pits' or whatever. Pretty standard crap."
Flo rolled her eyes and picked up where her crocodilian companion left off. "What Dr. Rosewood's assistant did have on hand were a few patients who had injured themselves while on Boost. Apparently, it increases strength past the point that the body, or their Aura for that matter, can properly cope with. And there was one patient who had apparently overdosed."
Greene shook his head. "Nasty stuff. You ain't gonna be catching me or Flo using that Boost stuff anytime soon, Boss."
"Describe it." Murex said.
Flo started before Greene could. "It was a huntsmen who had been working along the perimeter wall. Apparently, it's beginning to make its rounds there as a stimulant. Understandable to a point; you make more money if you can clear bounties faster than anyone else. This huntsman had taken three doses in twenty minutes. When it wore off he went catatonic. He keeps switching from flush to pallid, with his temperature anywhere from over 100 to nearly 87. Rosewood says he's never seen anything like it."
"And get this: whoever's selling this crap ain't selling the same thing to everyone." Greene fished around in his jacket and pulled out several silver cylinders, which he handed to the enforcer. "Each one of em's getting a different dose. Same stuff, different amounts."
Murex stashed the card in a vest pocket and looked at the cylinders. Each was an injector just like the one that he had taken from Glint, but each varied in size. Some were pencil thin, others were more stout, although the length of each injector was the same. None of them were the same size as the one Glint had taken. They weren't even close.
Why?
"None of these are even close to the original I have." Murex began. Each cylinder had a small glass or clear poly reservoir where the drug was held, and engraved on the material was a small notation in drams. The largest of the cylinders was marked up to a capacity of 5 drams. "Largest here is about a third of an ounce, which is about what Glint took. This doesn't make sense. If someone overdoses on their own accord, that's one thing. But they've also handed out a big enough volume to cause an overdose on hit one. The entire drug business relies on getting people addicted, not making them catatonic. We're missing something."
"It's reasonable to assume you're correct, sir." Flo said, arms crossed and head tilted in thought. "Although it's hard to imagine what that detail is."
"The men that Rosewood was supposed to send to meet us at the Club, what happened to them?"
"Well, they had those tracker thingies in their Scrolls, when we looked 'em up they were somewhere in the bay. Paints a pretty complete picture right there, don't it. "
"Someone, it seemed, didn't want you to meet with them."
Murex scowled. Rosewood operated an independent clinic set in one of the more destitute locations of the city. His prices were cheap and his work was decent, which made him very popular with the poorer demographics of the city. And with the criminal elements, who he was willing to patch up without reporting any suspicious activity to the cops. For a fee, of course. Still, the man had proven his worth more times than Murex could count, and had even helped set the enforcer's bones on more than one occasion at the beginning of his career.
That said, his men weren't fighters. They were medical staff, either down on their luck or hungry for higher pay than their hospital counterparts. For someone to off them, and off such valuable members of the underground was tantamount to suicide if they were discovered. The fact that someone risked it at all meant that someone didn't want Murex learning something that Rosewood knew.
"Rosewood was at least smart enough to send proxies in his place." Murex mused. Incredibly lucky, in fact. If Rosewood had left his shop personally, then even now he would be bobbing in the waves of the Autumn Bay, picked down to his bones by fish or worse. "Damn shame our mystery party got to him first."
Despite the loss of his staff, despite the effort to make contact with Murex, Rosewood had refused to talk at all with either Flo or Greene. For the doctor to have completely shut his mouth when approached meant that someone very high up the criminal food chain had sat him down. Thankfully, it seemed that the blackout placed on Rosewood wasn't total, as he was more than willing to share what he knew about Boost, but not its producer of any of its movers.
Hell, even Murex's own men were turning up empty handed from their own respective shakedowns. They had found plenty of independent dealers of the drug, but no one who was either able or willing to discuss where they were getting it. Frankly the fact that the dealers were becoming so easy to find was worrisome. It all hinted at a massive push to get as much Boost out onto the streets as possible in as small an amount of time as could be done.
Murex pocketed the card once more. "It's a dead end, and not worth alienating Rosewood over. His services are too valuable to the Syndicate."
"Understandable. I'm assuming you have an alternate plan then?" Flo asked
"I do." Murex said. "Something a little more old fashioned."
Three hours later Murex and his lieutenants found themselves in a decrepit pit of a bar called Boot Hill, a place infamous for cheap beer, foul smells, and bad clientele. A few pointed questions was enough for the patrons to overcome their initial hesitancy at having a Syndicate enforcer walts in, and one and a half minutes was more than enough time to remind them why they were hesitant in the first place.
The place was never clean to begin with. The usual dirt and peanut shells were embedded in the floor alongside new additions such as smashed furniture, broken glass, and loose teeth. Flo was dusting the sleeves of her suit coat with a cleaner than usual rag. Greene was perched on a bar stool with some lowlife ganger pinned underneath, taking dainty sips of beer out of a broken mug he had found somewhere. Scattered across the busted tables were a dozen or so bodies, most still moving, all still breathing. Murex scanned the bar one last time, checking that every potential threat was down for the count.
No point in killing these people if he didn't need to. He left the butchery to the Butcher.
With his backside confirmed to be as secure as it was ever going to be, he returned his attention to one of the last few patrons left conscious, a faunus man pinned up against the wall by his neck.
"So, Murex began, returning his gaze to the man he had pinned, "did that memory of yours get any better?"
Three minutes later they were back in their car and taking an on ramp onto the highway. He still didn't know who his targets were working for, but he knew what they were currently up to. Boost was for the time being a dead end, but that was not the only angle worth looking into. Hakke, and by extension the mysterious organization he had to be part of, had been looking for a trio of mercenaries first and foremost. Why that was was fairly easy to ascertain; mercs were basically huntsmen that specialized in dealing with people more so than Grimm. But that alone didn't explain the doggedness of the pursuit. The mercs had to have either done some damage or taken something of importance to have had agents dispatched to find them.
There were too many missing details for his liking.
That said, the bar had provided at least a few answers. Once he had refreshed their memories, the bartender had admitted to seeing the trio of mercenaries exiting a particular district more than once over the past few weeks. Specifically from a series of rough, dilapidated apartment buildings that most people tended to stay away from. It smelled like a front for a different Family, a possibility that would barely slow him down. He was well known in the underworld, even among the rival Families. If he was helping stop a threat to the Handshake, then even they would allow him passage.
If they didn't, well, that spoke volumes alone. Once his Mission was accomplished, and his findings handed over to the leader of the Syndicate, Umber Wedge, then it would only be a matter of time before he called for a meeting of the Families to deal with the guilty party. The combined force of all four, or even three Families would be enough to take down damn near anything.
The car began to approach the district. Even if it turned out it was Umber Wedge, or one of his Lieutenants, Murex knew what needed to be done. His loyalties lay with the Syndicate of course, but even above that they lay with the tenets of the Handshake. He had seen what crime unrestrained led to in the city of Kuchinashi, or in Mistral as a whole. That level of degradation could not be allowed to start or spread in Vale.
Finally, they parked. Within a few minutes of questioning locals, they stood at the entrance to a large red brick building with sandstone highlights. Murex took the lead and entered the main door into a simply decorated lobby space. It looked like a modest medical clinic, with plenty of sterile whites and smooth tilework. A touch dirty, which was to be expected of the area it was located, but not nearly as bad as it could be.
Their entrance was not unnoticed. A guard in basic ballistic armor over a white uniform removed himself from the wall he had been standing at and put himself in their way, holding out a hand for them to stop.
"Hey hey, y'all got a reason to be here?. I'm going to need names and who you're here to see. It's that or I'm gonna need to ask ya to leave."
Murex leveled his gaze at the man. "The name's Indigo Murex, and I need to see whoever's in charge here."
"Unless you have an appointment, that ain't gonna happen now Mr…" The guard paused, a dim understanding making its way across his face. "You… you're not that Murex, now are you?"
Behind him, Murex heard Greene mutter something under his breath in an amused tone, followed by an unhappy sound from Flo. "Depends on what you mean by that."
"Well, I mean. Y'know." The guard looked behind him, one hand nervously rubbing the back of his beneath his starched collar Murex caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his neck. Two curved saber hilts complete with knuckle guards, their blades crossing somewhere below his collar, and an oddly shaped sword bisecting the two. Some variety of heavy chopping blade, pitted and nicked along its blade. The tattoo vanished as the guard turned back and continued in a light whisper. "The one running with the Families."
"In that case you would be correct."
The guard nodded. " Alright, I'll put a call in to the boss, see what he's got going on. I wouldn't hold your breath though. He's a very busy man, even if it's Family business."
Well, that would be less than ideal. He would rather put a pin in this side of the investigation personally, whether that meant abandoning this line of inquiry, or continuing on to the next clue. At the same time that tattoo gave him an idea. He was familiar with most of the gang tattoos in Vale, especially ones for the gangs or groups that meant something. The sort that could afford a building like this. The guard's tattoo was unfamiliar to him, but the sword motif led him along far enough to make an educated gamble.
He reached into his vest pocket and retrieved the card that Sable had given him. "Is it the same answer if it's Society business?"
The guard stopped and stared at the card. "That it does, actually. Boss is a busy man, but he's never too busy for that. Had ya pegged wrong, sir. Follow me."
The guard began waking off towards a side hallway, bending his head lightly to talk into a small communicator built into his ballistic vest. Letting the guard move ahead a bit, he began walking close to his two lieutenants.
"Society business, sir?" Flo asked. "I'm unfamiliar with that group."
"I am as well, for the most part. Sable described it as a group dedicated to dealing with problems the Handshake isn't flexible enough to deal with. The guard has a neck tattoo, three intersecting swords."
"Bit of a leap there, boss." Greene added under his breath. "I don't like this one bit. Guy smells off."
"Still, it got us inside. It's worth seeing where this leads." Flo said.
"Agreed."
The guard led them deeper into the building and into a side door that led down a nondescript flight of stairs. At the bottom they were me with a large steel door embedded into the concrete wall. The guard swiped a keycard against a small holographic scanner and punched in a code in a keypad next to the scanner. With a pneumatic hiss, the door opened followed by a second steel door at the far end of a short metal corridor.
"That's a bit much." Murex heard Greene mutter, before their party walked through and emerged into the other side.
It was like they had walked into another world. The upstairs had been mostly vacant outside the guard they had been following. Here, men and women, both human and faunus, bustled to and fro the shiny black floors carrying either mechanical equipment, notes, or metal cases. There were more guards as well lined along the segmented blank white walls, all of which openly carried sleek Theon made rifles. He eyed their magazines warily. They weren't standard by any definition. They looked to be made of dark brown wood. Or bone.
The surface guard flagged one of the standing guards down, and briefly informed them as to what was happening before returning through the doors and heading back upstairs. The new guard, a faunus woman with square pupils and small ram horns.
"Mr. Murex, please follow me. You two companions are welcome to wait in that side room." She said, indicating a door along a far wall.
"We don't split from the boss." Greene said, his sharp teeth beginning to bare. Something had him on edge, alright.
Murex held up a hand to his subordinate. "That will do. Greene, Flo. Wait here."
Flo nodded, and Greene complied, but just barely. They were herded by another guard towards the indicated room, Greene glancing around through his sunglasses the entire time. Murex watched them for an extra moment. Greene had good instincts. They both did. If he was feeling off about something down in this subterranean lab, then there was something worth being wary about.
Beyond the obvious, that is.
Traditionally, fantastically maintained labs fully staffed and hidden beneath a mediocre building was something to take notice of. The scope was the thing Murex was specifically taken aback by. Even from this 'lobby' he could see passages and hallways stretching off and out of sight. A place like this would have taken an incredible amount of Lien to create, and even then, the level of movement needed would have attracted attention.
He followed the guard, who wordlessly led him through a set of double doors, past more corridors and deeper into the facility. The further he went, the fewer people milled about. The halls were almost empty, the silence punctuated by the echoing of voices from the occasional side room and the clicking of boots on the sleek floors.
Finally, the guard stopped outside what felt like a random door. Murex had been carefully keeping track of the twists and turns he had been led down. He was confident he could find his way back to the entry room if he had to, even if the route seemed illogical and needlessly looped. He figured that may have been the point, there was no way this place was as big as was suggested by the length of the walk. Still, it was hard to tell when every hallway was a mirror image of the other.
The guard opened the door for him and gestured inside. "Mr. Rymer is inside."
Rymer. Not a name that Murex knew. He knew the names of most of the competition's higher agents, but there was always a chance that someone knew had been brought aboard.
Murex nodded to the guard and entered the room. The first thing he noticed was a drop in temperature, a slight tinge of refrigeration. The sort of slight cold someone would find in a bio-lab. The second thing he noticed was the lack of the sheen that permeated the outside halls. In here, the walls and floor were made of a similar matte grey metal, with black fatigue pads lining various work tables built into the floor like islands, complete with beakers, flasks, burners, and all sorts of other chemical equipment. He walked past the first workstation, before heading down a small staircase to the main work zone. Even with the elevation drop, the ceiling was low, barely seven feet off the floor and covered in pipes and electrical conduit. A large sheet of glass lined a side wall, tinted to a mirror sheen. He surmised it was some variety of security or monitoring room. He didn't see any logos or other identification for the equipment down here, but all of it had to have been Atlas made.
He didn't even recognize some of the equipment, like the large mechanical drums stacked neatly under the large mirror along one wall next to a small automatic forklift. Must have been custom built for whatever was happening in this place.
At the far end of the room was the obvious centerpiece to the lab, a large, complicated machine taking up most of the far wall. Innumerous pipes exited the main bulk, reentering the device or one of the walls, with various monitoring stations built directly into its mass. The entire thing seemed to be built around a single massive chamber, easily eight feet tall and four at its base, completely covered in sensor equipment and various control gauges.
At the base of the machine stood the room's sole occupant, a well kept human man who stood with his back to the door, flipping what looked like a playing card between the fingers of one hand. As Murex's footsteps echoed lightly through the space, the man turned to greet him.
"Ah! If it isn't the illustrious enforcer Indigo Murex, finally making an appearance on Society grounds." He began making his way over to the enforcer. "I must say when Sable said he was considering bringing you into the fold I was ecstatic! You have made quite the fearsome reputation for yourself. Ah, where are my manners? The name is Varney Rhymer, but you can call me Varney."
Varney held out a hand which Murex took. He pushed out with his Aura slightly, a small trick he had learned from a Vacuoan some years ago to see if someone had their Aura activated or not. If his Aura brushed against something it was, if it didn't it wasn't. He felt nothing, and saw no hint of a reaction on Varney's smile. A slightly weaker grip, but that was expected of those without Aura. The Society man nodded enthusiastically through the shake, the ends of his waxed mustache bobbing slightly, and the action threatening to topple his round spectacles off his nose. He was rail thin, with his wiry frame covered with a standard looking set of dress clothes, a checkered earth tone vest, and a black and red polka dotted bow tie.
"Did he?" Murex questioned, which Varney answered with a wry smile.
"Well, not quite yet. You don't strike me as being initiated quite yet, and I know for certain I would have been told if you'd made Logician."
"Logician?"
"It's what we call ourselves, it'll make sense eventually. Now, what can I help you with?" He asked. "Assuming you're here on business, that is. I'm assuming a man like yourself wouldn't just roll in unannounced like this unless you were on the clock, so to speak."
Murex nodded slightly. "Straight to the point, I can respect that. I'm looking for some people. A couple of mercenaries that I believe work for, or at least work here. Word on the street is they've been in and out of this neck of the woods more frequently than not. Three mercenaries, specifically. Go by Doc, Sage and Ajax."
Varney's eyebrow raised as he thought, sitting on one of the islands. "Doc, Sage and Ajax… The surface facility has a surprisingly large number of employees running through it at all times of day, I wouldn't be surprised if they were part of that operation. But those sorts do not end up down here; the equipment and what we're doing is far too fragile for every knuckle-dragging thug we have on parole to rampage through. Would you mind if I ask why you're looking for them anyway?"
"Syndicate business."
"Ah ah ah! Syndicate business is Society business. It's the entire point of the organization, to operate past Family lines, after all. Now I'm wracking my brains trying to figure out what good they'd be to a man dedicated to eliminating threats to the Handshake. Coming up blank, I'm afraid."
"I may have been offered an invite to this Society of yours, but I still know very little about it. Not enough at least to share my assignments with. Besides, it's like you said, I'm not part of your group fully, not one of your 'Logicians,' so this is still Syndicate business." This wasn't helping him, and he was beginning to find this Varney character distinctly grating. "That said, it sounds like you know them."
"A passing familiarity, nothing more. From the handful of times I've had to be up there."
Murex hummed. "It sounds like your surface facility is a better option to find them, so I think I'll take a look up there. Good meeting you, Mr. Rymer."
Murex turned and began heading towards the door before Varney spoke up again. "I take it you're looking for them because a certain someone else was looking for them first?"
He stopped. Turned. Varney was still leaning against the metal island, several cards flashing in his hands.
"Thought so. Indulge me for a second. You say you know little about the Society, so let me show you the surface of what we are hoping to accomplish. Do you know what this place makes, Indigo?" He grabbed a small metal cylinder off the island and pulled out a thin glass rod with a light pneumatic hiss. Murex locked eyes on it's glowing green content.
"Is that-"
"Boost? No. Brothers above, no. This is something special." He spun the vial through the air, deftly catching it and pointing at the enforcer. "This is the real deal, not that… runoff."
Murex took a few steps towards the Society man. "So Boost is a knock off of whatever your making down here. Then you're the one responsible for this mess."
"Not quite. You see, Boost was an accident, albeit one that is spreading a touch faster than anticipated. You have to admit though, an Auratic steroid has far reaching possibilities, especially if the more negative side effects can be brought under control. But at the end of the day it is a drug, and all drugs have risks attached." Varney got off the island and approached, holding out the vial. "And besides. It wasn't quite what we were aiming for."
Slowly, Murex took the vial. Now that he could get a closer look at it, it definitely wasn't Boost. While green, the hue was off; it was a slight green so pale that it was almost white. He turned it, watching the faintly glowing substance shift inside its glass container. The strangest thing was that he could feel it, detect it with his Aura as if there was something alive in his hand.
"What is this?"
Suddenly Varney was right in front of him, pointing down towards the large machine at the end of the room. "It's a lot easier if we showed you. Words don't quite do it justice."
Varney held out his hand, and Murex eventually handed back the vial before slowly making his way down to the machine. Half of his focus was on his semblance, waiting for the faintest tickle of danger from the man behind him.
He had him. The man behind Boost. With him in hand he could present his case to Umber Wenge, and from there a meeting between the Families could be called to deal with what Boost had made it onto the streets before violence started to spread. Still, he doubted that the Society would be pleased with his decision to essentially declare he wanted nothing to do with them, but he could tolerate that fine.
If the Society and their Logicians were behind the production of Boost, they needed to be brought to heel. Sable should have known better than to throw his lot in with them, even if their goals were attractive. Hell, that may have been what had brought him aboard to begin with. The road to hell and all that.
Murex stopped in front of the machine. He was no engineer, but it looked like every pipe and wire was feeding into the component directly in front of him. Readout needles twitched and various dark liquids sloshed beneath plexiglass viewports as it operated, doing whatever it was designed to do. It was surprisingly loud, now that he was in front of it; a deep thrumming with a rhythmic thumping sound as a large amount of liquid turned and flowed throughout.
"The panel to your right controls the viewing port." Varney called out helpfully from behind him, the sound of cards being shuffled underlying his words.
Murex studied the panel for a moment. A basic interface that didn't take long to navigate to the right section. A few taps on the old fashioned glass touchscreen, and with a hiss of built up pneumatics, the front of the machine split open, spilling a dim orange light out onto the surrounding floor. Murex stepped in front of the shutters and stared at its contents.
He didn't know what to make of it.
Suspended by thin metal cables was a mass of dark, tar like growth, gently twitching to some unknown stimuli. Solid shapes were embedded within it, half covered by a snarl of solid pipes and plastic tubes that stabbed into the thing almost at random. Some of the solids emerged from the mass; a strange and malformed thing bent in the middle. As soon as it appeared it vanished back into the tar.
Slowly, his eyes drifted to the sources of light in the tank. Strange, angular runes of some sort were lining the walls of the tank, all softly glowing. Every one of them is slightly different; reminding him of those primitive cave drawings that the archaeologists sometimes found in odd corners of the world. The strange lights were being diffused through the liquid in the tank, leaving the orange glow.
Something else emerged twitching from the tar, and Murex stared at it until it slowly resumberged. Three thin, dirty, ivory colored extrusions with thin red lines running their length. Slightly rounded tips, and with three identifiable joints. He looked back at the control panel, realizing that there were controls that rotated the thing in the tank. Hesitantly, he touched one of the buttons and watched as the thing agonizingly turned to face him.
"By the Brothers above."
It was a body. An upper torso to be exact, the ribs bare and poking through a thick, writhing mass of tar. The black sludge wormed its way in and through the exposed bone and past the remaining flesh. The same three ivory extrusions twitched, and Murex realized they were fingers. A metal cap had been bolted to the bottom of the torso, where the legs should have been, completely covering what was there and fed by thick metal cabling. Worst of all was the face, thin and emaciated, with strands of wheat gold hair drifting lazily on top of the head.
The worst part however, was far simpler. Eventually, after the initial shock began to give way to a muted horror, Murex realized he recognized the skeletal face bobbing with open, vacant eyes in the tank. It was that thug of Magenta's, the one who had overdosed on Boost. The man he had sent to Sable's doctor. It was Dandelion Glint.
Glint's eyes snapped to look Murex dead in his. Medical sensors embedded in the tank began to beep aggressively, responding to its occupant's accelerating pulse. He stared back, rooted to the spot. Glint, despite the lack of and proper movement, managed to convey everything with his look.
Pain. Panic. Fear. Desperation.
All aimed at the man who unwittingly sentenced him to this.
Murex took a carefully controlled step back, and pulled Arbitrator from its holster. "What have you done?"
"Interesting. Had a feeling you'd react like this." Varney's voice called out from behind. With a shudder, the mechanical door closed back over Glint, trapping the young man back in his pod. "I could always explain exactly what it is the Society is having me do down here, but something tells me that's not your concern right now."
"We're getting him out of that thing. Now." Murex demanded, his fist clenching the hilt of his weapon as it shifted out into its claymore form. Something pneumatic snapped behind him, Murex turned to see Varney lowering the vial he had previously been showing him down to the island countertop. It was empty.
He began approaching Varney slowly, on edge, watching his every move. He'd drag the man out of here and throw him to the Families to tear apart.
Varney was shuffling the same deck of cards idly in his hand. Oddly stiff cards, Murex belatedly noticed. "You're worry touches me Indigo, it really does. But I think you should be more worried about yourself right now."
With a sly grin on his face, Varney slashed up, the deck of cards lightly clicking and connecting along their corners to form a curved blade that sliced through the electrical conduit running on the ceiling. There was a shower of sparks; the last light as the lab was plunged into utter darkness.
"So tell me, what's the pay like here? These guys are equal opportunity employers or what?" Greene asked, leaning against the wall as he continued his one sided conversation with a very drained looking security guard. Both Greene and Flo were in a comfortably furnished waiting room lined with suede couches and small wood and glass coffee tables. Arranged on top were a variety of natural history magazines and assorted pamphlets. Flow was currently seated on one of the couches, back ramrod straight as she read a copy of City Life Digest.
One corner held a solid oak table with a water cooler next to it, and a coffee machine percolating a fresh pot on top, alongside all the amenities needed for visitors to make themselves a cup. Cheerfully generic pictures of natural vistas lined the two tone walls, reminding Flo of a family clinic more than an underground… whatever this was.
They hadn't been there long, no more than a few minutes before Greene had inevitably gotten bored and began verbally barraging the unlucky guard who had been asked to stay inside the room with them. Flo was convinced it was just his way of working off his nervous energy. As pleasant as the waiting room was, it still didn't remove the nagging feeling of how weird this place was. A fully staffed subterranean hospital or research facility was not what one expected to be buried deep underground like this.
Still, she had her limits. "Greene, can you please stop harassing the man? He has a job, just like we do."
Greene turned to her, letting his head exaggeratedly roll along the way. "There you go again, interrupting this very pleasant conversation I've started, all because you, I dunno, hate fun."
"I do not hate fun, I just think you would be better served trying not to fill every single silence with meaningless jabber." She said, flicking to the next page.
"What, so I should try to…" he swirled his hand vaguely, before adopting an Atlesian accent, "broaden my horizons by the consumption of edifying facts?"
"Goodness, no. It would do you well to at least reconfirm you're literate every now and again."
"Low blow, Flo. Low blow. You know I have that eye condition that makes me allergic to being pompous. You know what I'm saying, right man?" Greene turned his attention back to the guard, who responded with a deep sigh. "He gets it. I mean, look at him! Bet he's never had a literate thought in his life."
Flo rolled her eyes and refocused on her magazine. It was as vapid as any other tabloid, but it could at least pass the time better. And it didn't take up too much of her attention, if any at all. Off by the door, Greene kept harassing the guard, until the man's comm crackled to life. Without changing her position, she focused on what was being said.
"Proceed. Aiat." The comm stated, the voice crackling with static.
"Aiat." The guard replied.
"Ayat? Whose yacht?" Greene snarked.
Flo began to shake her head when she heard the distinct sound of someone pulling a gun out of its holster. Instantly, she was on her feet drawing her own weapons out. Greene meanwhile had also reacted immediately, and she could see him pinning the guard's arm while simultaneously throwing powerful hits into his gut and throat.
Her weapons drawn, a custom built and highly accurate target pistol braced against her off hand with a extending knife in it, she waited for an opportunity to assist her partner with the guard. Not that he seemed to need it.
Greene had already managed to get his own weapons out and was currently attempting to beat the life out of the guard. His punches brought a crackle of Aura out with each hit, punches the man was ignoring. Greene's brass knuckles were more like the front half of a gauntlet, covering his fists as he slammed the man over and over. It didn't seem to be doing much, up until he began unloading the built in shotgun into the man as well.
She focused beyond the pair, seeing helmeted figures appear in the doorway they were currently blocking. She didn't need to wait for them to make the first move. She opened fire, sending shots just past Greene and his guard and into the armored figures gathered there. One man cried out, clutching his eye and stumbling out of sight, his Aura flashing. She kept shooting until a clatter of rifle fire changed things drastically.
Greasy tracer trails flooded the room, punching through the walls and perforating everything in their path. Greene's Aura flared painfully, the alligator faunus gasping out as the bullets slammed into him, only barely stopped by the now dead guard they had shot through to get at him. He collapsed, taking the dead man down with him as a basic shield. While he lay there and fired shotgun shells from his knuckles.
Flo sprinted to the back of the room and slid under the table with the coffee machine, and flipped it over, spilling hot coffee over herself in the process. She ignored it, focusing on putting as many rounds in the clot of guards currently trying to enter the room. One man, the same one she had hit in the eye, stormed in before three rapid shots broke his Aura and blew his helmet off his head. He crumpled as Greene threw his makeshift shield off himself and into the growing crowd, using the opportunity to unload the last of his shells into them.
Another guard fell, blown off his feet with a shotgun blast as Greene ran to Flo's redoubt. She slammed a fresh magazine into the pistol and continued encouraging the guards to keep their heads down. He vaulted over the table, which seemed to be holding up surprisingly well under the staggered fire they were receiving. Now behind cover, he took a moment to catch his breath and readjust his sunglasses before reloading the shotgun component of his knuckles.
Outside of the roar of occasional gunfire, it was silent.
"Well, this ain't going well!" Greene laughed.
"For once we agree!" She yelled, her shots forcing another guard to retreat, the woman clutching her shoulder.
"Hey, don't get hit either."
"You don't think I know that?"
"I ain't joking. I don't know what they're packing, but it damn near tore clean through me."
They hunkered down, sending deterrent shots downrange only to have the same sent at them. She could understand why. At least four of them were on the ground not moving, with a fifth dragging themselves back towards the door. It was an impasse. The guards couldn't get in to kill them, but they couldn't rush the door without their strange tracer guns shredding them to ribbons.
From outside the door they heard shouting. "Bring it up!" Followed by more shouting.
Flo and Greene exchanged looks. If they had a heavy weapon, or some explosives, they're little retreat would turn into their grave rapidly.
Flo swallowed. "Battering ram?"
Greene grit his teeth. "Battering ram."
They each grabbed the topmost leg on the table and lifted. So far it had held up fairly well against their opponents gunfire, with only one or two spots where a bullet had penetrated. It should hold up for this. As the guards shouted and shuffled about, the two Syndicate lieutenants braced themselves and charged the door, the table held in front of them like a shield.
As they closed the distance the sound of something charging with power began to roar from the doorway, and with a discharge that sounded more like a Grimm roar than a gun, the middle of the table exploded in purple flame. The two gangsters stumbled as the table split in half, but the sudden eruption was not enough to break their charge. Greene threw himself through the door, letting the remains of his half of the table smash through the guards gathered there. Flo dropped her half of the table as it burned with that strange purple fire.
As she opened up with her gun and threw herself into the fray, she saw what must have been the weapon that had destroyed the table, a strange amalgamation of brown bone, intricate wire work, and the chassis of a light machine gun, all in the hands of a man in a white lab coat.
As she slammed her knife up to the hilt in the chest of a guard, she glimpsed several more people in lab coats rapidly approaching. All were armed with blades of some sort. Once again, she found herself agreeing with Greene.
Things weren't looking good.
Arbitrator held defensively in front of himself, Murex stood in the black of the now lightless lab. His eyes strained for a glimpse of anything, his ears doing the same for even the lightest sound. He cursed internally. He should have suspected Varney was more than he seemed, that he had a plan up his sleeve. He walked forward slowly, head pivoting from side to side to let his ears gather as much sound as possible.
Suddenly his Semblance kicked in, and Murex spun about and slashed out into the darkness, his blade meeting Varney's in a shower of sparks. Three more slashes came at him, each met with a deft turn of his blade, the face of his enemy briefly illuminated. Like camera flashes, Varney's face was twisted into a savage grin as he attacked; and suddenly he was gone.
He was back to square one. He backed up, still facing where he had been attacked from, his senses stretched to their maximum. He hadn't felt an active Aura on the man, so why was he able to put so much power behind his attacks? From his left, his Semblance screamed warning, and he barely managed to bring the sword up to block as a thin playing card bounced off the blade. It twirled through the air with a whistle before he heard it embed in the floor.
So Varney's cards were his weapon. He could throw them, or connect them to make a blade. Range and close quarters.
Great.
Above! He fell to one knee, parrying a slash as his opponent leapt over him. Left! The two blades hissed through the air before connecting with the shriek of protesting metal. Behind! He twirled, his sword blurring through the air to connect with his enemy's weapon.
Then nothing. Murex forced his breathing to become steady, closing his eyes and focusing on his Precognition. Only his Semblance seemed to be useful right now. He couldn't hear Varney, only sense when he was about to strike. It was apparent that Varney could see him however, and he could strike fast enough that switching to his grenade launcher would leave him open long enough for an attack to land.
He twitched violently as he bumped into a stool, the clattering of its wheels on the smooth laminate floor shockingly loud. Finally, it died down, leaving him with no external stimulus outside of the sound of blood pumping in his ears, the sound of his own breathing. The feel of breath on his neck -
He swung in a large horizontal arc, slashing into and through the metal of one of the islands, the blow producing just enough light for him to momentarily see Varney leaping soundlessly out of harm's way and into the dark. He had been behind him. Close enough to have touched his shoulder.
"What is this?" he demanded, not expecting an answer.
"Thought it was obvious, personally." Varney replied, his voice muffled and off to Murex's left.
"What -" Murex began, but a new sound caught his attention. The hiss of something being pumped into the room, followed by the faint scent of almonds. Involuntarily, Murex coughed. His eyes opened once more in realization.
Gas. The room was being flooded with gas. He turned in the dark, trying to remember where the door was. There were a handful of things that Aura could not help defend against, gas being one of the most common. It could help repair some of the damage inflicted, but not enough to change anything. Alarm ringing in his system, he realized Varney's strategy. In the dark, he couldn't see any exit, and his constant attacks had left him turned around. He didn't know which way led to safety, and any extra movement would mean he needed to breathe heavier, forcing the gas to kill him faster.
Precognition erupted again, and Murex was forced back into a melee. This time Varney pressed him hard, refusing to let up. Forcing him to exert as much as possible. From the sparks he saw the man had a mask on, tubes leading from his mouth and nose to a small tank on the back of his head. Still, the height from their clashes was not enough for him to see where he was, only the most immediate of his surroundings.
Another coughing fit erupted, forcing one hand to his mouth in a vain attempt to protect himself. Varney burst into laughter, and pressed his assault.
"Catch your breath, why don't you?" the man said with a laugh. "The door's sealed. There's no escape. Nowhere to go."
His lungs were burning, another coughing fit nearly forcing Murex to double over. His Semblance cried out, but he was unable to stop the knee that cracked into his chin, or the fist that blew what air was in his lungs out. A final kick threw him over what he guessed was one of the two rows of islands and into the wall, knocking over one of the cages that had been stacked there. He gasped, his lungs filling with poison.
He was dying. Varney was killing him. His mind raced.
He had landed on the cages. The cages were beneath the mirror. He hoped his assumption was correct about what the mirror was. He got up, staggered forward a few paces and assumed a fighting stance. He had to be careful. If he aimed this wrong, he was dead.
The sound of a chair squeaking across the floor ahead of him warned him that Varney was coming. He grit his teeth and thumbed one of Arbitrator's triggers. The mechanism activated, and a charge slammed into a small amount of Gravity Dust. As the Dust cascaded down the blade and began to increase its weight, he pivoted and threw his sword with all his might behind him and up. There was the sound of shattering glass as his sword smashed through, light pouring into the lab.
He pushed his Aura into his legs and jumped at the crack in the glass, grabbing on to the sharp edge. He reared back a fist and crashed through, rolling down a control panel and landing on a carpet of broken glass. He gasped, the air in this section still unpolluted by the gas down below. He hoped it was a heavier variety, otherwise the air here would soon be tainted as well.
Footsteps crunched across the broken glass towards him. Murex rallied himself and got to his feet. Two figures, both dressed in white lab coats, were charging him, strange brown short swords in their hands. His head was swimming, making it hard to tell anything beyond that they were armed and meant him harm. Arbitrator was lying further down the observation room, separated from Murex by the attacking lab coats. The shorter of the two attacked first, thrusting at him with her knife. Murex batted it aside, slamming his fist across their face. Taking advantage of the momentum, he hooked her over his shoulder and threw the person out the window, taking some more glass with her as they fell.
The second figure followed close behind, landing a slash across his back while he was busy throwing the first figure out the window. His Aura held, but by the Brothers it hurt, far more than it had any right to. The next slash gave Murex the opportunity he needed, the blade dashing across one of the consoles, slowing down. He pinned the blade against the console with his off hand, before grabbing the man by his hair and bringing his head down into his oncoming knee.
Still holding his hair, Murex pulled him down low enough to vault over, scooping up his sword as he went. Arbitrator was still covered in Gravity Dust, making its movement harder than usual. And hitting much harder than normal. When the last lab coat wheeled about, the blade was already moving, catching the man in the neck and taking his head clean off.
Stumbling slightly back to the hole in the glass, Murex swapped to Arbitrator's grenade launcher and fired several Fire Dust grenades into the lab. He peered down into the fire-lit darkness, seeing burning equipment, the person he had thrown in choking, and most importantly, no Varney. The main pod holding Glint was still sealed, there was plenty of knocked over material and equipment, but the Society Logician was nowhere to be seen.
He backed up cautiously. His little trick earlier seemed to have completely missed the mark. There was no way the man didn't have an active Aura; he had been too fast, too strong, and far too quiet. Now that there was light again, Murex had a better chance to see him coming and hopefully deal with the man should he attack again. Still, he didn't like the odds. Varney had been playing a very particular role down there, one that seemed to have stopped. He should have been attacked when he was breaking the glass by hand, or when he was taking care of the two lab coats in this room, but nothing had happened. Varney was simply… gone.
He kept his eyes on the dark, jagged hole in the lab and began to leave, only for a coughing fit to force him to brace against one of the consoles. It seemed whatever they had gassed him with was lingering somewhat. He forced his breathing to be steady and carried on. The observation room emptied back into a familiarly designed hallway that led back to the main door to the lab. From there it was a simple matter of recalling which turns he had been led down in this labyrinth of a complex. The whole ordeal was made easier by the addition of gunfire echoing from roughly the direction of the exit.
Closing in on the sound of fighting, Murex ducked into an alcove as a small team of four security guards tore around a corner, heading the same way he had been. He peeked around at their receding forms, taking note of what armaments they had. Basic ballistic vests, helmets, knee and elbow pads all in black with a brown undersuit. SImple, cheap, and effective, looking to be roughly on par with VPD heavy assault teams. Their guns were more interesting. Sleek carbines marred by the addition of brutal looking organic structures built into the bottom and growing around to form some variety of bayonet. He'd never seen anything quite like it before, and was not interested in learning what they could do. At least, not by being target practice for them.
He followed, slowly accelerating to a run, finally turning around a corner and straight into utter chaos. The guards had stopped and begun to fire their rifles into the lobby, specifically the receptionists desk, smoky trails highlighting their bullets path. Several bodies lay scattered motionless across the lobby floor, several more guards opening fire from covered positions. Furniture was smashed everywhere; the results of what looked like a brief but violent melee. Finally, he saw the pristine head of Flo pop over the edge of the receptionist's mostly destroyed desk, her pistol cracking off scarlet Dust rounds at the arranged guards. An office chair hurled out from behind the same desk, slamming into one guard who was approaching bearing a shield, two other guards stacked up behind him.
His footsteps finally alerted one of the guards he was rushing up on, the man turning just in time to catch the edge of Murex's sword with his face. The sword carried through, slamming into the shoulder of the next man and bowling him into the other guards. A grenade launched from Arbitrator, scattering the remaining guards in front of him and launching Murex across the room to smash the shield formation apart.
His lungs burned from the residual gas left there, but he ignored it as he lay into the men around him, his sword a blur as he cut through Aura and armor. His entry into the fight turned the tide of the battle, the security guards letting their steady fire stagger to a near standstill as they tried to choose between Murex or Greene and Flo. Immediately, Flo stood and began to unload accurate shots into the guards still further out and Greene lunged out of cover, batting the rifle away from one guard before choke slamming the man into the floor. Murex continued slashing, his Precognition warning him of incoming fire.
He turned, batting the first two shots out of the air before throwing himself into a slide to the side of the guard. Despite his best efforts, one of the rounds slammed into his Aura, the impact sight leaving a lingering burning sensation, like he had just been stabbed with a white hot poker. He swept the man's legs out from under him with the crossguard, smoothly transitioning the sword back to a launcher and firing a shot into an alcove along the wall where two more guards had taken cover. The fiery blast sent shrapnel and the two guards hiding there flying across the room. Not bothering to shift the weapon back, he swung it in one hand, breaking the Aura and neck of the guard on the floor as he tried to get back up, his body flipping away.
The enemy was beginning to rally, with tromping boots promising more guards inbound. He looked over at his subordinates. Flo was far from her normal pristine self, tie gone, the buttons on her cuff torn out, and with bruising beginning to take form across her person. Greene was not much better, although judging from his wild eyed look from beneath his now broken sunglasses he was enjoying himself more than his partner was. Most worryingly was the trails of red around his mouth.
Greene caught his look. "Don't worry boss!" He flashed a smile that was all sharp teeth. "Blood ain't mine!"
"Disgusting." Flo gasped, reloading her pistol.
"Rally up." Murex commanded. His men raced to the steel door that led outside and began fiddling with the lock. Murex meanwhile cycled the cylinder in Arbitrator to the Ice Dust rounds and fired several solid shot projectiles down various corridors, the Dust erupting into barriers of solid ice. It wouldn't hold them back for long, but just long enough. He opened the cylinder, checking the reserves left before another coughing fit hit, doubling him over and forcing him to shift to the sword for support.
Behind him, the door opened.
"Sir, we have to go!" Flo yelled.
"We're not leaving yet. We have to get him out."
A green arm hoisted him up. The smell of copper wafted over him as he looked Greene in the face. "Terrible idea there, we ain't exactly winning down here."
Murex felt himself be pulled back. "I thought you said the blood wasn't yours."
"Sorry 'bout that, Boss. Most of it ain't mine."
He shrugged off, striding out into the lobby and grabbing one of the strange rifles from a downed guard. He then turned his attention back to his two subordinates. Flo's bruises weren't healing, meaning her Aura was either gone or dangerously low. Greene meanwhile was favoring one side over the other, and ever so slightly favoring one leg over the other. Neither of them were anywhere near ready for another prolonged firefight. As he sucked in another burning lungful of air, he realized he wasn't either. Not until he could clear out whatever they had hit him with.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to put these scumbags down. What had happened to Glint was something he wouldn't - couldn't - wish on his worst enemy. He needed to break the kid out of that thing he was strapped into. He wanted to bring Varney in, have the Families tear him apart like a pack of beowolves, wanted to walk up to Sable and wring his neck, ask him if he knew this was what the Society was doing. Why he though Murex would want any part of this.
"...fine. We're coming back though, and we're hitting these bastards hard." He finally gave in, and marched out the steel door. Flo shoved it close once they were all through, and Murex shattered the terminal on their side before sealing it closed with yet more ice.
As they raced up the stairs as fast as they could manage, Greene turned to his boss. "What the hell did they do down there? I ain't seen you this pissed in forever."
"Wonderful way to phrase that question, you green menace." Flo exalted through gritted teeth. "I must admit I am curious too. Past hits haven't set you off like this before."
He didn't respond, instead bursting out the side door and straight into the guard in the white uniform that had first led them down to the Society lab. Precognition screamed out as the guard got two shots off directly into Murex's chest. With a roar, he smashed his fist across the guard's chin, sending him staggering back. Another punch shattered the man's Aura and nearly sent him keeling over. When he didn't fall, Murex grabbed him by the collar and threw the man down the stairwell, the guard skidding along the metal railing before noisily sliding down the concrete stairs themselves.
They exited the building before Murex finally turned to them. "This whole thing was a setup. Only way it makes any sense. Why the hell would they show me that? Why would they do that?"
"Sir?"
"Glint. The Beacon dropout. They had him in a damn jar. What bits they felt like keeping, that is. I don't even know how he was still alive down there. They -" realization hit him like a truck. Sable's doctor. The so-called Good Doctor had been the one Magenta had demanded he send Glint to that night. He may have been ordered to, but he was the one who had condemned Glint to his fate. He may not have known, but it was his word that had brought the kid here.
"What in the goddamn you trying to say here, Boss?" Greene asked. By now they had reached the car, Flo getting in the driver's seat as she was the one least injured, or at least injured in all the places that wouldn't affect her driving. Murex was getting hit with less coughing fits now that he was outside, proof that his Aura was healing the damage, and Greene was definitely bleeding in his side.
"Brothers." Murex cursed. "The Syndicate's compromised. I don't know how deep, but I can say Magenta and Sable are in on it."
"Azariah Sable? As in the Accountant?" Flo began.
"One of the big three? I know you hate Magenta like any sane person, but really?"
Murex pulled the card out of his vest pocket. "Sable tried to recruit me. Flo. Take us to Wenge's mansion. We can't wait. We have to bring this to him. Start seeing how far this all goes. I'll contact the Merchant. Hopefully she's not part of this madness; we're going to need allies fast."
Flo looked at him through the rear view mirror. "Does this mean what I think it does, sir?"
Murex pulled out his scroll, punched in a code and rang a contact. "Best case, this Society hasn't dug so deep we can't tear it out by the roots and purge the whole organization."
"Worst case?"
"The Four Families become Three Families. You all know what that will look like."
They exchanged glances. The terms of the Handshake said that the Families would covertly consume the resources and assets of any one of their number if they began to break the established tenets. They all knew that in reality, it wouldn't go like that.
"Ah, shit." Greene said, slumping back in his seat.
Murex lifted the scroll to his head, making sure it was an audio only call. "Step on it. We have a war to stop."
Hello, I'm back.
Life got super busy, I had a lot of stuff change over the last 6ish months, most of which has been absolutely great. That said, basically all of it demanded my attention which had me put this on the backburner. Thankfully, I think I'm sorting it all out enough that I can start writing some more overall; nowhere near the breakneck pace I was able to maintain when I started out, but better than an update every 6 months. So here's a longer chapter than usual for ya'll. Think there's at least one more Murex Chapter to go, although it might be one of those two-fers, Idunno, I'll figure it out.
- RangoTango
Hahahaaaaa here we GOOOOO
ThePolishSausageRoaster - It's the world's best kept secret for now, simply because no one has thought to ask Hakke directly. Eventually, this 'secret' will get out, and that'll be a lot of fun.
The Lone Gunslinger - Glad you like it. A real Thorn (the ones wielded by actual Dredgens) would be one of the most horrific weapons Remnant had ever seen. I imagine a weapon that uses paracausal poison would be pretty damn effective against people who use their immortal soul as a shield.
Guest - Murex: "I thought you were dead!"
Hakke: "I was."
The Baz: Warlock Industries, LLC - They're in Florida! And each of the four Titan released chapters would be 300 words written in crayon. Also more like 15 chapters or by now goddam
Mongoose - It just fits, seeing as how Guardians act like murderhobos in the best of situations. I'm thinking about the same. Manton effect is practically a perfect nerf for it.
Guest - They will eventually. It'll be bad for everyone when they finally roll up. I've got ideas.
holandia1103 - Thank ye, pardner. That's the main things I was aiming for, something different and fun. Here's hoping it continues hitting those marks.
jrhenderson - Bruh, that's a compliment if I've ever heard one. Holy moly, thank you.
DarkMegatronXX47 - More Hive lore is always welcome. I have had to rethink Dul Yurnath's master plan a bit, just so it didn't ape some elements of what I think Witch Queen's gonna do. But I could be totally wrong there as well, so we'll see.
ue1 - I am in agreement with all your points. Really hope it keeps going good. Glynda's plot is going to start up again here soon (theoretically that is.) and 100% Light blows Aura out of the water in terms of power. Guardian's already have enough built in BS that I don't think it'll be too big an issue though.
John Blur - Very glad to hear what I'm doing here is working out and is enjoyable. It's been a blast to thanks for the wishes for Vex. That damn thing is still mocking me to this day.
Th1s - Thank you! Also I'm back.
Mirrors Cracked and Broken - Glad to hear it!
SE Mastermind - Currently, no exotic armor. Eventually, he'll make something that'll function as an exotic. So far the lore hasn't mucked up my plans too much, some light alteration, but nothing too crazy. The core is still strong.
Savathuns Bathwater - If either Savathun or Xivu Arath show up, there ain't much story left. They'd wipe the floor with basically everything. That said, cameo appearances of ol' Savathun: that's not out of the question.
Keltoi - Well heck, this is a surprise! I've read most of your stuff and loved it, dang glad you like mine! RWBY's a bit of a mess overall, plenty of good and intriguing ideas, the execution's all over the place.
